[drabble] 011. rooftops, 1/1
011. rooftops
hangeng/sungmin | friendship/angst | pg-15
just leave me your stardust to remember you by.
challenge masterlist.
Hangeng remembered his younger days-remembered the alcohol, the cigarettes, the drugs, his life falling apart from all around him. And that might’ve been an overstatement, but he was still a high school student-what more did the world want from him?
He also remembered that one boy-in retrospect, Hangeng never knew anything more about him than his name.
Sungmin was an element all his own. While Hangeng was busy smoking weed on the rooftop of the school at night (and it was pathetically hilarious, how he never got caught), he would be sitting several feet away from him, staring out over the city with his earphones plugged in and iPod blasting at the highest volume. Hangeng could always hear his music from where he was sitting, if he stopped breathing for a moment-he was almost constantly listening to Super Junior, this really popular boy band. Hangeng was almost positive that they were all gay.
The first time they ever talked was on February 9th-he remembered because it was his seventeenth birthday-just two days after his mother-his precious, precious mother, finally decided to cut vertically down her arm instead of horizontally. Heechul had noticed that he was particularly unhappy that day, and shared his secret stash of coke with him. Hangeng had never had coke before, but Heechul promised him that it was some of the best stuff around. The funny thing was, Heechul knew exactly why drugs were bad and how they destroyed you wholly and completely, but he did them anyway. That was what Hangeng liked best about him-he never gave a shit.
(He died of an overdose a few years later. Hangeng was almost jealous.)
That night, he carefully arranged the powdered crystals in a line, unsure of how to do this. Just snort it, Heechul had said, but that was easier said than done. That was a little unsanitary, wasn’t it? Just snorting it.
He almost laughed at himself. As if druggies cared about sanitation.
Just as he was about to go for it, he had felt a touch on his shoulder-light, but there. Hangeng looked back, and saw Sungmin with his brows slightly furrowed with concern.
“Coke is bad for you,” he said quietly. “It blocks your dopamine pathways and you get really addicted.”
He frowned. “You never said anything about me smoking weed before.”
“Well, that’d be a little hypocritical of me.” Sighing, Sungmin sat down beside him. “I do weed sometimes, too. Not often, but sometimes. If you do it in moderation, it doesn’t damage your health. But coke-just once, and it could ruin your life.”
Disgruntled, Hangeng said, “It’s really none of your business.” It wasn’t like his life was going to go anywhere spectacular, anyway. His mother was dead and his father would be dead in a few years, if he kept drinking at the rate that he was. Briefly, he wondered if it was bad that he hoped his father would be dead, but then decided that it wasn’t. His father had done enough terrible things for him to wish him dead ten times over.
“It’ll be on my conscience, though,” Sungmin had hummed. “What’s up? Tell me why you suddenly switched from weed to coke.”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing, really. Just a change of environment.” Sungmin stared at him, unbelieving. “Well, my mom’s dead, if that counts for anything. My dad’s a bastard.” He traced his mother’s name on the cold cement ground with his finger.
There was a pause. “Well, I really can’t relate, but my dad yells at me sometimes, too, when I do something wrong or mess up.” And Hangeng really shouldn’t have felt better at that, but he did and it was weird, because he should’ve actually been offended that Sungmin tried to comfort him by telling him his own trivial little problems. Maybe he was smoking too much-maybe it was finally getting to his head. Maybe he should stop.
Hangeng continued to talk to Sungmin after that-he never did do the coke that night. Occasionally, Sungmin would have a smoke with him, but he usually smoked alone, while he talked, or Sungmin talked-or maybe the both of them talking together. If anything, their words flowed together like they belonged, and time always passed faster for Hangeng whenever he was with Sungmin.
Then one day, it all ended. Sungmin had taken Hangeng’s hands in his-warm, scorching, white-hot-with a smile so bright that Hangeng was sure he was looking at the sun. “I got a scholarship.”
He had blinked. “What?”
“I got a scholarship to the my first university of choice. I won’t even have to pay the tuition-it’s all covered. All free.” Sungmin’s eyes sparkled in a way Hangeng had never seen them sparkle before-and he wondered just how much he knew this boy. “Can you believe that, Geng? I’m still in shock!”
“That’s great,” he had said, dazed. He hadn’t even thought about university. He supposed it was too late now-it was already early November.
That must’ve meant that these days were going to end. Sungmin had been implemented into Hangeng’s daily routine-just evenings on rooftops, talking until midnight, or maybe even later. Sometimes even seeing the sunrise together. Super Junior wasn’t actually gay, he had discovered, and their music was actually okay-but only some of it, when it wasn’t all happy and shit. To Hangeng, Sungmin had become the boy on the rooftop-the one who listened when he wanted to talk, who didn’t ask when he didn’t-the one who filled the silence with his own stories when Hangeng just felt too broken to talk. Sungmin had become the one light in his life, no matter how small it was-from a candle to an ember to absolutely nothing at all.
Of course. Why would Sungmin stick around for him?
“You have to do good, okay?” he had said earnestly. Hangeng didn’t know what he was referring to, but nodded anyway. “You have to pick yourself up and promise never to do coke, and you have to keep up with Super Junior and you have got to stop smoking weed every day-just cut it down to once or twice a week, okay?”
“O-Okay.” Sungmin was grinning like the world was going to end tomorrow, and Hangeng didn’t know whether he wanted him to stay or not. “Come back to visit when you can.”
“Of course.”
Hangeng remembered his younger days. He was a little better off now-his father died of liver failure a little while back, and he didn’t spend his days wasting away. He was…almost happy, maybe? Yeah, almost happy.
He remembered Sungmin. He was a nice guy. Hangeng really never knew anything more about him than his name, but-but maybe, a name was enough.
i am in no way promoting drug use. this was a little choppy, but it's been a while since i wrote any angst that included alcohol and drug use. expect a fic not related to this challenge maybe up later today or tomorrow.
also, guys, pray for japan. pray for the world.
hangeng/sungmin | friendship/angst | pg-15
just leave me your stardust to remember you by.
challenge masterlist.
Hangeng remembered his younger days-remembered the alcohol, the cigarettes, the drugs, his life falling apart from all around him. And that might’ve been an overstatement, but he was still a high school student-what more did the world want from him?
He also remembered that one boy-in retrospect, Hangeng never knew anything more about him than his name.
Sungmin was an element all his own. While Hangeng was busy smoking weed on the rooftop of the school at night (and it was pathetically hilarious, how he never got caught), he would be sitting several feet away from him, staring out over the city with his earphones plugged in and iPod blasting at the highest volume. Hangeng could always hear his music from where he was sitting, if he stopped breathing for a moment-he was almost constantly listening to Super Junior, this really popular boy band. Hangeng was almost positive that they were all gay.
The first time they ever talked was on February 9th-he remembered because it was his seventeenth birthday-just two days after his mother-his precious, precious mother, finally decided to cut vertically down her arm instead of horizontally. Heechul had noticed that he was particularly unhappy that day, and shared his secret stash of coke with him. Hangeng had never had coke before, but Heechul promised him that it was some of the best stuff around. The funny thing was, Heechul knew exactly why drugs were bad and how they destroyed you wholly and completely, but he did them anyway. That was what Hangeng liked best about him-he never gave a shit.
(He died of an overdose a few years later. Hangeng was almost jealous.)
That night, he carefully arranged the powdered crystals in a line, unsure of how to do this. Just snort it, Heechul had said, but that was easier said than done. That was a little unsanitary, wasn’t it? Just snorting it.
He almost laughed at himself. As if druggies cared about sanitation.
Just as he was about to go for it, he had felt a touch on his shoulder-light, but there. Hangeng looked back, and saw Sungmin with his brows slightly furrowed with concern.
“Coke is bad for you,” he said quietly. “It blocks your dopamine pathways and you get really addicted.”
He frowned. “You never said anything about me smoking weed before.”
“Well, that’d be a little hypocritical of me.” Sighing, Sungmin sat down beside him. “I do weed sometimes, too. Not often, but sometimes. If you do it in moderation, it doesn’t damage your health. But coke-just once, and it could ruin your life.”
Disgruntled, Hangeng said, “It’s really none of your business.” It wasn’t like his life was going to go anywhere spectacular, anyway. His mother was dead and his father would be dead in a few years, if he kept drinking at the rate that he was. Briefly, he wondered if it was bad that he hoped his father would be dead, but then decided that it wasn’t. His father had done enough terrible things for him to wish him dead ten times over.
“It’ll be on my conscience, though,” Sungmin had hummed. “What’s up? Tell me why you suddenly switched from weed to coke.”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing, really. Just a change of environment.” Sungmin stared at him, unbelieving. “Well, my mom’s dead, if that counts for anything. My dad’s a bastard.” He traced his mother’s name on the cold cement ground with his finger.
There was a pause. “Well, I really can’t relate, but my dad yells at me sometimes, too, when I do something wrong or mess up.” And Hangeng really shouldn’t have felt better at that, but he did and it was weird, because he should’ve actually been offended that Sungmin tried to comfort him by telling him his own trivial little problems. Maybe he was smoking too much-maybe it was finally getting to his head. Maybe he should stop.
Hangeng continued to talk to Sungmin after that-he never did do the coke that night. Occasionally, Sungmin would have a smoke with him, but he usually smoked alone, while he talked, or Sungmin talked-or maybe the both of them talking together. If anything, their words flowed together like they belonged, and time always passed faster for Hangeng whenever he was with Sungmin.
Then one day, it all ended. Sungmin had taken Hangeng’s hands in his-warm, scorching, white-hot-with a smile so bright that Hangeng was sure he was looking at the sun. “I got a scholarship.”
He had blinked. “What?”
“I got a scholarship to the my first university of choice. I won’t even have to pay the tuition-it’s all covered. All free.” Sungmin’s eyes sparkled in a way Hangeng had never seen them sparkle before-and he wondered just how much he knew this boy. “Can you believe that, Geng? I’m still in shock!”
“That’s great,” he had said, dazed. He hadn’t even thought about university. He supposed it was too late now-it was already early November.
That must’ve meant that these days were going to end. Sungmin had been implemented into Hangeng’s daily routine-just evenings on rooftops, talking until midnight, or maybe even later. Sometimes even seeing the sunrise together. Super Junior wasn’t actually gay, he had discovered, and their music was actually okay-but only some of it, when it wasn’t all happy and shit. To Hangeng, Sungmin had become the boy on the rooftop-the one who listened when he wanted to talk, who didn’t ask when he didn’t-the one who filled the silence with his own stories when Hangeng just felt too broken to talk. Sungmin had become the one light in his life, no matter how small it was-from a candle to an ember to absolutely nothing at all.
Of course. Why would Sungmin stick around for him?
“You have to do good, okay?” he had said earnestly. Hangeng didn’t know what he was referring to, but nodded anyway. “You have to pick yourself up and promise never to do coke, and you have to keep up with Super Junior and you have got to stop smoking weed every day-just cut it down to once or twice a week, okay?”
“O-Okay.” Sungmin was grinning like the world was going to end tomorrow, and Hangeng didn’t know whether he wanted him to stay or not. “Come back to visit when you can.”
“Of course.”
Hangeng remembered his younger days. He was a little better off now-his father died of liver failure a little while back, and he didn’t spend his days wasting away. He was…almost happy, maybe? Yeah, almost happy.
He remembered Sungmin. He was a nice guy. Hangeng really never knew anything more about him than his name, but-but maybe, a name was enough.
i am in no way promoting drug use. this was a little choppy, but it's been a while since i wrote any angst that included alcohol and drug use. expect a fic not related to this challenge maybe up later today or tomorrow.
also, guys, pray for japan. pray for the world.