Super Junior (AU); The Difference Between Pawns and Kings; [1/__ ]
Title: The Difference Between Pawns and Kings [1/__ ]
Fandom: Super Junior (cameos by Epik High, Dong Bang Shin Ki, etc.)
Chapter Pairings: ShiChul
Word Count: 1419
Rating: R
Overall Summary: The secluded world of South Korea has decayed and it's largest city, Seoul, has fractioned into two seperate halves: the kings and the pawns. Society is different; life is different. People struggle to survive in both worlds, either smothered by the rules of the city or the despair of the slums. The lucky ones managing to balance between the two extreems watch their friends suffer or survive, take or be taken. Still, life churns on, and no matter what hand you have been dealt, you must play the game.
Chapter Summary: Heechul is the one who never wants to be found. Then again, Siwon can never stay away.
Genre: AU
A/N: HAY THAR. So ive kinda been on an unofficial hiatus due to laziness lack of inspiration. It's really sad. I'm still sort of out of touch with fandom (where has my stalking prowess gone?! my mv/variety show updates?!). I swear, fandom is a frickin JOB. and...well i already have another one and that one actually gives me handfuls of cash every once in awhile (its not actually that cool, but electronic bank statements are just as good). Im sounding like a responsible college student, its bizzare, really. Well, this is just a chapter fic, i have no fuckin idea where its going (well, kinda), but i hope it doesnt suck something awful. *siiigh* lemme know if ive lost my touch, okay you guys? dont let me walk around sucking, like people who walk around with lipstick on their face. IM NOT THAT GIRL. This one is for schm0use.
also, Gee is on constant replay in my braaaaiiiin~
**also: chapter updates are biweekly (every 2 weeks♥)
The girl slides down the pole, one leg hooked high around it, head thrown back, long black hair falling over her face, eyes closed. Her dark red heels burn perfectly on her pale skin, and she steps around the stage primly, accentuating her assets seductively every now and then. A man whistles to her and she turns, his five-dollar bill piquing her interest as she slowly makes her way over. Her delicate lips curve into a beautiful smile and she lets her hip stick out, just far enough for the man to slide his fingers up her milky white thigh and tuck the bill into her red lingerie. She pauses discretely, part of her act, allowing his fingers to skim down the back of her leg as she steps away again.
Seductively, she drops to her knees, slowly crawling towards center stage, her hips dipping and rising sensually as she moves her body catlike; as if it were liquid. She takes the tip of the bill held out to her by a particularly greasy man with the edge of her teeth, her red lips twisting up at the corners again. Her eyes flicker as she forces herself to stall, letting the man leer at her barely covered breasts before she slinks away again, searching for the next customer, the next greasy smear to beg to, the next man to make her sick. She turns to her left, stealing a private moment to let the shadow of loathing passing over her face before her eyes flick to the side and she stops. Her graceful face slackens slightly in shock.
She is staring straight into the face of Choi Siwon. And he is staring back as if he’s known her all her life.
***
The sound of something fragile breaking issues from behind a closed door, the paint on the door faded and peeling. A spotted piece of paper taped to the door reads a name. Another smashing sound echoes in the room on the other side. Angry pants are audible through the wood. Siwon bows his head, listening as he reaches up a hand and knocks on the dirty door. The sound echoes in the dim hallway. The room on the other side falls silent.
“…Heechul.”
Siwon pauses, listening still, before stepping back a little as he hears faint footsteps growing closer. Again, silence, as someone stalls on the other side of the door. Neither of the two breathes. Then there’s the clicking of a lock and Siwon’s hope lifts just a little.
The footsteps sound again and fade, and Siwon stands outside for a second more before reaching out and turning the handle, gently opening the door and leaning tentatively inside. The same girl from the stage sits at the dresser, facing a grimy mirror, but Siwon can’t see her face. What he can see are fragments of china on the floor next to the wall, a splash of tea leading to where the cup was thrown and smashed. A second pile of shattered china lies next to it. Siwon shifts his eyes back to the side of the room where the girl sits at her dresser quietly. She doesn’t acknowledge his presence, doesn’t turn around at the sound of the door opening, continuing to brush her long black hair as if nothing has happened.
Siwon steps fully into the room, pushing the door shut behind him. “Heechul, please.” There is an undertone of sternness in Siwon’s voice that makes it seem as if he is dealing with someone irrational. He knows he is.
The girl at the mirror sets the brush down.
“I thought I told you not to come here.”
Her…or rather his voice is cold, but he can’t keep the quiver out of it. Siwon steps forward, and Heechul turns around, face screwed up in pain and hurt and…hate. Heechul rises from his chair, slim hands balling into fists at his side, clad in a loosely tied, black silk robe. He walks forward, and Siwon waits for him to cross the room. He waits for him to bridge the gap.
“Why have you come here.” This time, Heechul’s voice is barren, steady. It isn’t a question, it’s a demand for all the answers that Siwon can’t give, but he decides to provide the few he can.
“I-“ he starts, but he doesn’t get a chance to finish.
“Why did you have to come here?!” The question isn’t directed at Siwon, although Heechul is staring straight into his face. His voice, just like his perfect face, grows slightly hysterical. “I don’t want you to see me like this!” Siwon closes his mouth and looks back at Heechul, trying to keep the pity out of his eyes.
“I didn’t….” Heechul sinks to a crouch in the middle of the room, his arms coming to wrap around his knees. He stares at the wall behind the other man, eyes blank; staring, but not really looking. Unseeing. “I didn’t want…not like this…”
Siwon reaches out a hand but Heechul snaps up and away.
“Don’t touch me.” He stares at him in disbelief, disbelief that he would even try, despite all the warnings. Siwon doesn’t look at him, instead looking at the amount of space Heechul has already put between them in the small room before he has even said anything at all. Distancing them. Just like always. “You can’t touch me.”
“Why can’t I touch you?” Siwon looks up at Heechul, into his face, and the question is soft like his eyes. Heechul looks back, eyes still wide. Searching. Hoping.
Heechul’s pale face crumbles then, and anyone else would look ugly. Not Heechul. Heechul looks beautiful.
“Please,” he sobs, the tears now streaking down his cheeks mixing with the thin string of saliva on his lip as he disregards everything about the pristine façade he’s supposed to uphold. Suddenly, he looks so frail, so pale, so breakable. “Please, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Haven’t you already?” The whisper is harsher than Siwon intended. Heechul flinches visibly as if he’d just been slapped, face trembling, tears continuing to soak into the carpet at his feet. No, not breakable. Broken. “Please, Heechul, just listen to me, you’re not making any sense, you’re not doing me any favors!” Siwon’s voice rises at the end, almost a shout. He doesn't mean to yell. He just wants Heechul to see.
Heechul looks up at him, and for a moment Siwon thinks he sees a flicker of hope flare again in the glossy sheen of his eyes, but as Heechul continues to stare at him it morphs into the spark of a fever. Siwon sighs angrily, frustration starting to take over.
Heechul doesn’t even see him.
“Heechul-“
“Please.”
Siwon stands alone in the middle of the room, Heechul having backed up into the edge of his dresser. The carpet between them swims, the distance lengthening continuously even as Heechul shrinks into himself. Smaller. Siwon’s face twists and falls in pain. He doesn’t want to leave him.
“Please.”
Siwon looks down at his hands and swallows. He pauses, using what he’s learned from Heechul over the years, painting the composure back onto his face carefully, before he slowly looks up and nods, once. Heechul grimaces with a quiet sob and turns his messy face into his shoulder, the thin fabric soaking within seconds. Siwon turns and walks to the door, pulling it open. He looks back one last time before he steps through, and then he’s gone.
Heechul’s shoulders gently shake as he sinks to the dirty, cheap pink carpet, one hand grasping the edge of the dresser, one hand bracing himself on the floor, and there aren’t any hands left to hold on to reality. Or rather, hope, because Heechul is holding on to reality; he’s holding on to the reality he wants nothing more than to let go of and just slip away. Heechul indulges himself for a moment, touching his forehead to his knees and emitting a soft wail, squeezing his eyes shut against the dirty walls and the dirty room and the dirty world he lives in. He opens his mouth in a silent scream and lets the tears fall.
Siwon stands outside the door, listening to the quiet sobs from inside the tiny room before walking away.
***
The next time Siwon sees Heechul, he’s face down on the ground down a dark alleyway, pale fingers stretched out limply, almost as if they were reaching out towards him.
Almost.
[2]
Fandom: Super Junior (cameos by Epik High, Dong Bang Shin Ki, etc.)
Chapter Pairings: ShiChul
Word Count: 1419
Rating: R
Overall Summary: The secluded world of South Korea has decayed and it's largest city, Seoul, has fractioned into two seperate halves: the kings and the pawns. Society is different; life is different. People struggle to survive in both worlds, either smothered by the rules of the city or the despair of the slums. The lucky ones managing to balance between the two extreems watch their friends suffer or survive, take or be taken. Still, life churns on, and no matter what hand you have been dealt, you must play the game.
Chapter Summary: Heechul is the one who never wants to be found. Then again, Siwon can never stay away.
Genre: AU
A/N: HAY THAR. So ive kinda been on an unofficial hiatus due to laziness lack of inspiration. It's really sad. I'm still sort of out of touch with fandom (where has my stalking prowess gone?! my mv/variety show updates?!). I swear, fandom is a frickin JOB. and...well i already have another one and that one actually gives me handfuls of cash every once in awhile (its not actually that cool, but electronic bank statements are just as good). Im sounding like a responsible college student, its bizzare, really. Well, this is just a chapter fic, i have no fuckin idea where its going (well, kinda), but i hope it doesnt suck something awful. *siiigh* lemme know if ive lost my touch, okay you guys? dont let me walk around sucking, like people who walk around with lipstick on their face. IM NOT THAT GIRL. This one is for schm0use.
also, Gee is on constant replay in my braaaaiiiin~
**also: chapter updates are biweekly (every 2 weeks♥)
The girl slides down the pole, one leg hooked high around it, head thrown back, long black hair falling over her face, eyes closed. Her dark red heels burn perfectly on her pale skin, and she steps around the stage primly, accentuating her assets seductively every now and then. A man whistles to her and she turns, his five-dollar bill piquing her interest as she slowly makes her way over. Her delicate lips curve into a beautiful smile and she lets her hip stick out, just far enough for the man to slide his fingers up her milky white thigh and tuck the bill into her red lingerie. She pauses discretely, part of her act, allowing his fingers to skim down the back of her leg as she steps away again.
Seductively, she drops to her knees, slowly crawling towards center stage, her hips dipping and rising sensually as she moves her body catlike; as if it were liquid. She takes the tip of the bill held out to her by a particularly greasy man with the edge of her teeth, her red lips twisting up at the corners again. Her eyes flicker as she forces herself to stall, letting the man leer at her barely covered breasts before she slinks away again, searching for the next customer, the next greasy smear to beg to, the next man to make her sick. She turns to her left, stealing a private moment to let the shadow of loathing passing over her face before her eyes flick to the side and she stops. Her graceful face slackens slightly in shock.
She is staring straight into the face of Choi Siwon. And he is staring back as if he’s known her all her life.
***
The sound of something fragile breaking issues from behind a closed door, the paint on the door faded and peeling. A spotted piece of paper taped to the door reads a name. Another smashing sound echoes in the room on the other side. Angry pants are audible through the wood. Siwon bows his head, listening as he reaches up a hand and knocks on the dirty door. The sound echoes in the dim hallway. The room on the other side falls silent.
“…Heechul.”
Siwon pauses, listening still, before stepping back a little as he hears faint footsteps growing closer. Again, silence, as someone stalls on the other side of the door. Neither of the two breathes. Then there’s the clicking of a lock and Siwon’s hope lifts just a little.
The footsteps sound again and fade, and Siwon stands outside for a second more before reaching out and turning the handle, gently opening the door and leaning tentatively inside. The same girl from the stage sits at the dresser, facing a grimy mirror, but Siwon can’t see her face. What he can see are fragments of china on the floor next to the wall, a splash of tea leading to where the cup was thrown and smashed. A second pile of shattered china lies next to it. Siwon shifts his eyes back to the side of the room where the girl sits at her dresser quietly. She doesn’t acknowledge his presence, doesn’t turn around at the sound of the door opening, continuing to brush her long black hair as if nothing has happened.
Siwon steps fully into the room, pushing the door shut behind him. “Heechul, please.” There is an undertone of sternness in Siwon’s voice that makes it seem as if he is dealing with someone irrational. He knows he is.
The girl at the mirror sets the brush down.
“I thought I told you not to come here.”
Her…or rather his voice is cold, but he can’t keep the quiver out of it. Siwon steps forward, and Heechul turns around, face screwed up in pain and hurt and…hate. Heechul rises from his chair, slim hands balling into fists at his side, clad in a loosely tied, black silk robe. He walks forward, and Siwon waits for him to cross the room. He waits for him to bridge the gap.
“Why have you come here.” This time, Heechul’s voice is barren, steady. It isn’t a question, it’s a demand for all the answers that Siwon can’t give, but he decides to provide the few he can.
“I-“ he starts, but he doesn’t get a chance to finish.
“Why did you have to come here?!” The question isn’t directed at Siwon, although Heechul is staring straight into his face. His voice, just like his perfect face, grows slightly hysterical. “I don’t want you to see me like this!” Siwon closes his mouth and looks back at Heechul, trying to keep the pity out of his eyes.
“I didn’t….” Heechul sinks to a crouch in the middle of the room, his arms coming to wrap around his knees. He stares at the wall behind the other man, eyes blank; staring, but not really looking. Unseeing. “I didn’t want…not like this…”
Siwon reaches out a hand but Heechul snaps up and away.
“Don’t touch me.” He stares at him in disbelief, disbelief that he would even try, despite all the warnings. Siwon doesn’t look at him, instead looking at the amount of space Heechul has already put between them in the small room before he has even said anything at all. Distancing them. Just like always. “You can’t touch me.”
“Why can’t I touch you?” Siwon looks up at Heechul, into his face, and the question is soft like his eyes. Heechul looks back, eyes still wide. Searching. Hoping.
Heechul’s pale face crumbles then, and anyone else would look ugly. Not Heechul. Heechul looks beautiful.
“Please,” he sobs, the tears now streaking down his cheeks mixing with the thin string of saliva on his lip as he disregards everything about the pristine façade he’s supposed to uphold. Suddenly, he looks so frail, so pale, so breakable. “Please, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Haven’t you already?” The whisper is harsher than Siwon intended. Heechul flinches visibly as if he’d just been slapped, face trembling, tears continuing to soak into the carpet at his feet. No, not breakable. Broken. “Please, Heechul, just listen to me, you’re not making any sense, you’re not doing me any favors!” Siwon’s voice rises at the end, almost a shout. He doesn't mean to yell. He just wants Heechul to see.
Heechul looks up at him, and for a moment Siwon thinks he sees a flicker of hope flare again in the glossy sheen of his eyes, but as Heechul continues to stare at him it morphs into the spark of a fever. Siwon sighs angrily, frustration starting to take over.
Heechul doesn’t even see him.
“Heechul-“
“Please.”
Siwon stands alone in the middle of the room, Heechul having backed up into the edge of his dresser. The carpet between them swims, the distance lengthening continuously even as Heechul shrinks into himself. Smaller. Siwon’s face twists and falls in pain. He doesn’t want to leave him.
“Please.”
Siwon looks down at his hands and swallows. He pauses, using what he’s learned from Heechul over the years, painting the composure back onto his face carefully, before he slowly looks up and nods, once. Heechul grimaces with a quiet sob and turns his messy face into his shoulder, the thin fabric soaking within seconds. Siwon turns and walks to the door, pulling it open. He looks back one last time before he steps through, and then he’s gone.
Heechul’s shoulders gently shake as he sinks to the dirty, cheap pink carpet, one hand grasping the edge of the dresser, one hand bracing himself on the floor, and there aren’t any hands left to hold on to reality. Or rather, hope, because Heechul is holding on to reality; he’s holding on to the reality he wants nothing more than to let go of and just slip away. Heechul indulges himself for a moment, touching his forehead to his knees and emitting a soft wail, squeezing his eyes shut against the dirty walls and the dirty room and the dirty world he lives in. He opens his mouth in a silent scream and lets the tears fall.
Siwon stands outside the door, listening to the quiet sobs from inside the tiny room before walking away.
***
The next time Siwon sees Heechul, he’s face down on the ground down a dark alleyway, pale fingers stretched out limply, almost as if they were reaching out towards him.
Almost.
[2]