Super Junior/SHINee/f(x) {drabbles}
I felt like just writing something. A lot of what I write has a purpose to it. There's a backstory, a plot, an ending, and a lot of words, so I just wanted to write something quickly and easily, and so I started doing that musicdrabble meme. Cue two angsty Hanchul drabbles and my face looking like :\ THEN A HAPPY HANCHUL DRABBLE. then Apple and Cinnamon by Utada Hikaru came on and I went LOL FUCK THIS and wrote some SHINee on civilized_era's request since we were waiting for the new MV (HOW AWESOME IS THAT SHIT OMGGG) and then I finished a drabble that I started about a month ago AND THEN I WROTE AMTORIA JUST BECAUSE. AND THAT IS THE STORY OF THE PAST THREE HOURS, THE END.
Byul / Kim Ah Joong / Hanchul / 293 words / PG
Later, it ends up being okay. It's not like they forget. They're always going to have each other, always going to be the best friends that they were when the group was alive and real and living, a living entity that they were merely an organ of, the liver, the mind, a tiny part of the beating heart. They'll always be that to one another. They'll always be part of each other's heart, always tied together. Always remembering what it felt like to collapse on top of each other after a long practise and feel their worries fade away in the face of body contact. Always remembering what it felt like to lie in bed on days off, grabbing some much needed rest with arms around each other and Heechul's forehead pressed against Hankyung's temple. They'll always remember that.
But that doesn't mean that it isn't okay, when it ends. It's okay, when Hankyung goes back to china, is introduced to a girl by his parents, a girl with a pretty face and long hair, who can't cook but who makes no apologies for it, marries her in the cliched ceremony and has two sons. It's okay, when Heechul dates for a while before settling down with a girl who doesn't take his bullshit and doesn't care that he's a pretty faced entertainer, a girl who makes himramen and loves him for being him. It's okay. It might not be great, it might not be good, but it's okay, since it doesn't mean they're not friends. Best friends. Always there for each other.
Sometimes they catch each other's eyes as their wives chat together, and they remember, and smile, because honestly, it's okay. It'll be okay, because they still have each other, somehow.
I Don't Care / 2NE1 / Hanchul / Shihan / 282 words / PG-13
"You're a fucking playboy," says Heechul, and the sad thing is, he totally means it. Hankyung can tell, can tell that Heechul is pissed because Heechul just stopped in the middle of a crowded corridor, causing a build up of stylists, most of them not from their company, which means yet another reason for Big Bang to hate the name of Super Junior. Hankyung stares at him helplessly.
"Heechul," he says, in a we've had this conversation thousands of times before tone, because they really, really have, "I am not a playboy."
"You are. Look at you, sucking up to all your little china buddies."
"I have to show respect. They're my seniors."
"Why don't you just get on your knees? You're good enough at it."
There's something in his voice which chills Hankyung to the bone; a pointed statement indeed. "What are you suggesting?"
Heechul snorts. "Oh please. All those late night calls, Siwon just happening to be in your room? All those times your breath caught on the phone? All the whispering and the laughing? I'm not a fucking moron, Hankyung."
Hankyung looks around, at the curious faces, scandalized expressions. "Are we really going to talk about this here?" he asks, and then realises that he never denied it, never said that's not true because he can't lie to Heechul. He can withhold truth, but never lie.
Heechul knows this too, he knows Hankyung well enough to pick up on when he's avoiding a subject. "No, we aren't," he says, and just before Hankyung can heave a sigh of relief, he adds; "because I don't care any longer, Hankyung," and turns around and walks away.
Show Me Your Love / Super Junior & DBSK / Hanchul / 401 words / PG-13
"I demand you stop hanging all over Yunho," says Hankyung, and accompanies it with a real life >:\ face, just to make his point perfectly clear. Heechul, not impressed by a great many things that Hankyung does, remains unimpressed by this show of authority.
"Fuck off," he says flatly, because that's all it takes to deflate Hankyung. He doesn't need witty comebacks or snarky comments, he just needs to not care one jot about what Hankyung's saying, and Hankyung will deflate like a balloon with a hole in it. Which he does, as he crawls onto the bed next to Heechul, jostles the laptop a little as he tucks Heechul under his arm and watches as he taps at the keys. Heechul's fingers astound him so he captures one of his hands and plays with the fingers until Heechul gets sick and yanks it away so he can continue typing.
"And just for the record," Hankyung adds. "I'd like you to stop hanging all over Donghae, stop talking to Kangin, stop sitting in Siwon's lap, and especially stop kissing Sungmin on stage since I don't like the looks he's giving me."
"He probably wants in on this, the whore," says Heechul absently, now in the middle of posting to his cyworld.
"Well, he's not allowed. And you're not allowed to talk to him, ever. Okay? Because I say so."
"You say a lot of things," says Heechul. "I rarely listen."
Hankyung shifts again so that he can pull Heechul, laptop and all, in between his legs and rest his chin against his shoulder. "You know why?" he murmurs, pulling Heechul's hair away with his fingers.
"Because you're a moron?" Heechul asks, still focused on his computer.
"You're not allowed to hang over Donghae or Yunho because you have to hang over me. You're not allowed to talk to Kangin because you have to talk to me. You're not allowed to sit in Siwon's lap, because you have to sit in mine. You have to stop kissing Sungmin because you have to kiss me."
Heechul turns his head to the side so he can do just that, then elbows Hankyung in the stomach. "Fucking possessive prat," he says, and then adds a random line to the end of his cyworld: Hankyung is such an idiot ¬.¬
"There," he says, pleased with his work. "Let the fans work out that one."
Hankyung sighs.
Having a Domestic / Jongkey / Minhonew / 394 words / PG
Minho might not speak a lot but Minho is also bad at understanding non-verbal charades, so Onew twirling his fingers around one another in a wrap it up motion doesn't really mean anything to him. He stares. Onew sighs. In the background, Jonghyun and Key continue screaming at each other, and Taemin cowers in between them.
"It's just ridiculous," yells Jonghyun. "If he doesn't like it, then he shouldn't have to do it!"
"Don't tell me what Taemin shouldn't have to do," screams Key right back. "It's called being a good parent, you moron!"
"You aren't his mother!"
"I'm the next best thing!"
"Mothers don't make their sons do things that they don't like, anyway!"
"I don't know about spoilt brats but some parents do, because they know that their children will grow up to know that the world isn't always a fair place!"
"What the -- did you just call me a spoilt brat?"
"I'll call you a lot worse if you don't get out of my face and let me do my job!"
"I'm telling you, you aren't his mother!"
"Um, hyung?" Taemin pipes up, so low in his seat that his chin is practically on the dining table. "I'll just eat the damn greens."
One moment of silence, then Key rounds on Jonghyun again. "Did you hear that? Did you just hear that? He learnt that from you!"
"What -- oh my god, he didn't even--"
Onew sidles up to Minho standing beside the sink and, while looking like he's bending down to pick something from the floor, drops his napkin full of greens into the bin. Minho notices with a frown, and Onew unfavourably thinks that sure, Minho notices that but not Onew's asking him for help against rampaging dongsaengs. "Hyung," says Minho.
"What?" says Onew, slightly hysterically. "Are you going to turn me over to Key as well and have him yell at me until I'm in tears and then I won't speak to you all night because I'll be too busy snuffling into my collar and then you'll feel really guilty and not be able to sleep and then you'll fall in practise and get yelled at by Key too. Is that what you want?"
A pause. "No," admits Minho.
"Good!" Onew says, and bumps him across with his hip in order to help with the washing up.
face-off / Jongkey / Minhonew / 359 words / PG-13
Minho is pissed, but being Minho, he doesn't really show it. All he says is, "He messed up," and that's enough for them to know he's pissed. With Minho, it's all in the facial expressions, and the tight line that his eyebrows have resolved themselves into proves that he is mad, and you don't really want Minho to be mad at you. Minho can be unpredictable.
Jonghyun, however, doesn't care. He stands, resolute, in front of Key. "It doesn't matter," he says. "It was a mistake."
"It could have risked everything," says Minho. "We could have been caught and then all this would be over."
"But we weren't," insists Jonghyun. "Therefore, it's not a problem."
Minho glances across at Onew, sitting neutral on the stairs. "He should be punished," he says.
"Minho..." Onew says softly.
Key laughs, hoarse and grating, then turns and spits blood against the tarmac over the road. Jonghyun's glance at him is full of fear. "Go on then," says Key. "Punish me. You're right, I messed up." His tank top is stained red where his risky move got him caught by one of the knives of the rival gang that they were infiltrating. He closes his fingers against the wound. "I deserve it," he says softer, more aware, less flippant. He knows that he did mess up.
Jonghyun turns and hunkers down beside him. "You need a doctor," he says, brushing Key's hair from his forehead and covering the hand on his wound with his own. He winces, feeling Key's blood against his skin. Key shakes his head.
"I might need one, but I can't see one," he says. "I just need some rest."
Taemin jumps up and runs off into the warehouse that they live in, and comes back thirty seconds later with their highly useful first aid kit. Onew stands up and talks into Minho's ear, feeling the tension in him. "He's been punished enough, don't you think? Scaring Jonghyun, scaring Taemin -- Key won't do that again in a long time."
Minho sighs, touches Onew's waist. "Hyung, you're too trusting," he says, but he doesn't add that he loves Onew for it.
Navigate Me / Cute Is What We Aim For / Amtoria / 290 words / PG-13
Her hands are covered in foam and bubbles from the washing up when Amber's arms slip around her waist and when her mouth attacks her throat. Victoria drops the plate in her hands with a crack against the other plates in the dish, a crack which makes her wince. It's probably broken. Amber doesn't seem to care, as she kisses with teeth. "What are you doing?" asks Victoria, trying to sound like she disapproves of being interrupted in important dish-washing time, but instead sounding like she wants Amber's hands much lower than where they are on her waist.
"You looked pretty," says Amber, muffled against Victoria's skin and part of her hair.
"So that was an excuse to attack me?"
"It's always an excuse to attack you," says Amber. She fastens her hands around Victoria's wrists and pulls her hands from the soapy water, then laughs, her chin on Victoria's shoulder. "I can see down your shirt," she sings.
Victoria flushes and struggles to get her hands free. Amber holds them tight until Victoria falls still. "Pervert," she mutters.
"Come here," says Amber, and she gently tugs Victoria out of the kitchen and into the empty living room. She sits on their sofa and pulls Victoria down beside her, pushes her down onto her back and crawls on top to kiss her, sucking at her bottom lip. Victoria arches her chest up as she pulls away, eyes shut. Amber brushes some of her hair from her forehead.
"Fuck," she says, in English. "You're so damn beautiful."
"Flatterer," says Victoria, recognising at least a couple of words in what she'd just said. Amber smiles.
"Never with you," she says.
"Corny, too," says Victoria, and Amber presses her into the sofa and kisses her for so long that she begins to go lightheaded. She plays with the hem of Victoria's shirt, and knows, just knows, in the very marrow of her bones, that she will never not love the way Victoria reaches down to tangle their hands together.
Byul / Kim Ah Joong / Hanchul / 293 words / PG
Later, it ends up being okay. It's not like they forget. They're always going to have each other, always going to be the best friends that they were when the group was alive and real and living, a living entity that they were merely an organ of, the liver, the mind, a tiny part of the beating heart. They'll always be that to one another. They'll always be part of each other's heart, always tied together. Always remembering what it felt like to collapse on top of each other after a long practise and feel their worries fade away in the face of body contact. Always remembering what it felt like to lie in bed on days off, grabbing some much needed rest with arms around each other and Heechul's forehead pressed against Hankyung's temple. They'll always remember that.
But that doesn't mean that it isn't okay, when it ends. It's okay, when Hankyung goes back to china, is introduced to a girl by his parents, a girl with a pretty face and long hair, who can't cook but who makes no apologies for it, marries her in the cliched ceremony and has two sons. It's okay, when Heechul dates for a while before settling down with a girl who doesn't take his bullshit and doesn't care that he's a pretty faced entertainer, a girl who makes himramen and loves him for being him. It's okay. It might not be great, it might not be good, but it's okay, since it doesn't mean they're not friends. Best friends. Always there for each other.
Sometimes they catch each other's eyes as their wives chat together, and they remember, and smile, because honestly, it's okay. It'll be okay, because they still have each other, somehow.
I Don't Care / 2NE1 / Hanchul / Shihan / 282 words / PG-13
"You're a fucking playboy," says Heechul, and the sad thing is, he totally means it. Hankyung can tell, can tell that Heechul is pissed because Heechul just stopped in the middle of a crowded corridor, causing a build up of stylists, most of them not from their company, which means yet another reason for Big Bang to hate the name of Super Junior. Hankyung stares at him helplessly.
"Heechul," he says, in a we've had this conversation thousands of times before tone, because they really, really have, "I am not a playboy."
"You are. Look at you, sucking up to all your little china buddies."
"I have to show respect. They're my seniors."
"Why don't you just get on your knees? You're good enough at it."
There's something in his voice which chills Hankyung to the bone; a pointed statement indeed. "What are you suggesting?"
Heechul snorts. "Oh please. All those late night calls, Siwon just happening to be in your room? All those times your breath caught on the phone? All the whispering and the laughing? I'm not a fucking moron, Hankyung."
Hankyung looks around, at the curious faces, scandalized expressions. "Are we really going to talk about this here?" he asks, and then realises that he never denied it, never said that's not true because he can't lie to Heechul. He can withhold truth, but never lie.
Heechul knows this too, he knows Hankyung well enough to pick up on when he's avoiding a subject. "No, we aren't," he says, and just before Hankyung can heave a sigh of relief, he adds; "because I don't care any longer, Hankyung," and turns around and walks away.
Show Me Your Love / Super Junior & DBSK / Hanchul / 401 words / PG-13
"I demand you stop hanging all over Yunho," says Hankyung, and accompanies it with a real life >:\ face, just to make his point perfectly clear. Heechul, not impressed by a great many things that Hankyung does, remains unimpressed by this show of authority.
"Fuck off," he says flatly, because that's all it takes to deflate Hankyung. He doesn't need witty comebacks or snarky comments, he just needs to not care one jot about what Hankyung's saying, and Hankyung will deflate like a balloon with a hole in it. Which he does, as he crawls onto the bed next to Heechul, jostles the laptop a little as he tucks Heechul under his arm and watches as he taps at the keys. Heechul's fingers astound him so he captures one of his hands and plays with the fingers until Heechul gets sick and yanks it away so he can continue typing.
"And just for the record," Hankyung adds. "I'd like you to stop hanging all over Donghae, stop talking to Kangin, stop sitting in Siwon's lap, and especially stop kissing Sungmin on stage since I don't like the looks he's giving me."
"He probably wants in on this, the whore," says Heechul absently, now in the middle of posting to his cyworld.
"Well, he's not allowed. And you're not allowed to talk to him, ever. Okay? Because I say so."
"You say a lot of things," says Heechul. "I rarely listen."
Hankyung shifts again so that he can pull Heechul, laptop and all, in between his legs and rest his chin against his shoulder. "You know why?" he murmurs, pulling Heechul's hair away with his fingers.
"Because you're a moron?" Heechul asks, still focused on his computer.
"You're not allowed to hang over Donghae or Yunho because you have to hang over me. You're not allowed to talk to Kangin because you have to talk to me. You're not allowed to sit in Siwon's lap, because you have to sit in mine. You have to stop kissing Sungmin because you have to kiss me."
Heechul turns his head to the side so he can do just that, then elbows Hankyung in the stomach. "Fucking possessive prat," he says, and then adds a random line to the end of his cyworld: Hankyung is such an idiot ¬.¬
"There," he says, pleased with his work. "Let the fans work out that one."
Hankyung sighs.
Having a Domestic / Jongkey / Minhonew / 394 words / PG
Minho might not speak a lot but Minho is also bad at understanding non-verbal charades, so Onew twirling his fingers around one another in a wrap it up motion doesn't really mean anything to him. He stares. Onew sighs. In the background, Jonghyun and Key continue screaming at each other, and Taemin cowers in between them.
"It's just ridiculous," yells Jonghyun. "If he doesn't like it, then he shouldn't have to do it!"
"Don't tell me what Taemin shouldn't have to do," screams Key right back. "It's called being a good parent, you moron!"
"You aren't his mother!"
"I'm the next best thing!"
"Mothers don't make their sons do things that they don't like, anyway!"
"I don't know about spoilt brats but some parents do, because they know that their children will grow up to know that the world isn't always a fair place!"
"What the -- did you just call me a spoilt brat?"
"I'll call you a lot worse if you don't get out of my face and let me do my job!"
"I'm telling you, you aren't his mother!"
"Um, hyung?" Taemin pipes up, so low in his seat that his chin is practically on the dining table. "I'll just eat the damn greens."
One moment of silence, then Key rounds on Jonghyun again. "Did you hear that? Did you just hear that? He learnt that from you!"
"What -- oh my god, he didn't even--"
Onew sidles up to Minho standing beside the sink and, while looking like he's bending down to pick something from the floor, drops his napkin full of greens into the bin. Minho notices with a frown, and Onew unfavourably thinks that sure, Minho notices that but not Onew's asking him for help against rampaging dongsaengs. "Hyung," says Minho.
"What?" says Onew, slightly hysterically. "Are you going to turn me over to Key as well and have him yell at me until I'm in tears and then I won't speak to you all night because I'll be too busy snuffling into my collar and then you'll feel really guilty and not be able to sleep and then you'll fall in practise and get yelled at by Key too. Is that what you want?"
A pause. "No," admits Minho.
"Good!" Onew says, and bumps him across with his hip in order to help with the washing up.
face-off / Jongkey / Minhonew / 359 words / PG-13
Minho is pissed, but being Minho, he doesn't really show it. All he says is, "He messed up," and that's enough for them to know he's pissed. With Minho, it's all in the facial expressions, and the tight line that his eyebrows have resolved themselves into proves that he is mad, and you don't really want Minho to be mad at you. Minho can be unpredictable.
Jonghyun, however, doesn't care. He stands, resolute, in front of Key. "It doesn't matter," he says. "It was a mistake."
"It could have risked everything," says Minho. "We could have been caught and then all this would be over."
"But we weren't," insists Jonghyun. "Therefore, it's not a problem."
Minho glances across at Onew, sitting neutral on the stairs. "He should be punished," he says.
"Minho..." Onew says softly.
Key laughs, hoarse and grating, then turns and spits blood against the tarmac over the road. Jonghyun's glance at him is full of fear. "Go on then," says Key. "Punish me. You're right, I messed up." His tank top is stained red where his risky move got him caught by one of the knives of the rival gang that they were infiltrating. He closes his fingers against the wound. "I deserve it," he says softer, more aware, less flippant. He knows that he did mess up.
Jonghyun turns and hunkers down beside him. "You need a doctor," he says, brushing Key's hair from his forehead and covering the hand on his wound with his own. He winces, feeling Key's blood against his skin. Key shakes his head.
"I might need one, but I can't see one," he says. "I just need some rest."
Taemin jumps up and runs off into the warehouse that they live in, and comes back thirty seconds later with their highly useful first aid kit. Onew stands up and talks into Minho's ear, feeling the tension in him. "He's been punished enough, don't you think? Scaring Jonghyun, scaring Taemin -- Key won't do that again in a long time."
Minho sighs, touches Onew's waist. "Hyung, you're too trusting," he says, but he doesn't add that he loves Onew for it.
Navigate Me / Cute Is What We Aim For / Amtoria / 290 words / PG-13
Her hands are covered in foam and bubbles from the washing up when Amber's arms slip around her waist and when her mouth attacks her throat. Victoria drops the plate in her hands with a crack against the other plates in the dish, a crack which makes her wince. It's probably broken. Amber doesn't seem to care, as she kisses with teeth. "What are you doing?" asks Victoria, trying to sound like she disapproves of being interrupted in important dish-washing time, but instead sounding like she wants Amber's hands much lower than where they are on her waist.
"You looked pretty," says Amber, muffled against Victoria's skin and part of her hair.
"So that was an excuse to attack me?"
"It's always an excuse to attack you," says Amber. She fastens her hands around Victoria's wrists and pulls her hands from the soapy water, then laughs, her chin on Victoria's shoulder. "I can see down your shirt," she sings.
Victoria flushes and struggles to get her hands free. Amber holds them tight until Victoria falls still. "Pervert," she mutters.
"Come here," says Amber, and she gently tugs Victoria out of the kitchen and into the empty living room. She sits on their sofa and pulls Victoria down beside her, pushes her down onto her back and crawls on top to kiss her, sucking at her bottom lip. Victoria arches her chest up as she pulls away, eyes shut. Amber brushes some of her hair from her forehead.
"Fuck," she says, in English. "You're so damn beautiful."
"Flatterer," says Victoria, recognising at least a couple of words in what she'd just said. Amber smiles.
"Never with you," she says.
"Corny, too," says Victoria, and Amber presses her into the sofa and kisses her for so long that she begins to go lightheaded. She plays with the hem of Victoria's shirt, and knows, just knows, in the very marrow of her bones, that she will never not love the way Victoria reaches down to tangle their hands together.