Drabbles - Kris/Suho
Late Night
Kris/Suho, PG, 1206 words
Joonmyun takes emergency call to his late English tutor.
Warnings: mentioned drunk state.
Takes place after TLP Singapore.
Joonmyun's head is still buzzed with the amount of alcohol he dawned earlier. He doesn't usually drink after concerts, but the way Jongdae lured him into some glasses he guaranteed they wouldn't find in Korea ("I heard it's Singapore's finest, and the company is even paying for us," Jongdae said, wriggling his eyebrows newly trimmed eyebrows and flashing his white teeth.) was too much to deny. Joonmyun was about to give up after two glasses, but Chanyeol came and coaxed him for more. Baekhyun joined in and Joonmyun knew that he was in trouble. Those bastards.
He opens up his phone, realizing how he doesn't have internet connection all the way in Southeast Asia. He walks towards the room's table and finds the password for the hotel's wifi easily. He remembered how Jongin had spazzed briefly about how fast Singapore's internet connection is, though still not as fast as what they have in their own country. He checks the group chat and finds how the boys are still laughing over each other's ice bucket challenge video. Shaking his head, he sends some funny stickers and tells them off to sleep.
Baekhyun's reply is a laughing icon and a text telling him to go to sleep and not to get hangover the next day.
Joonmyun doesn't do hangovers, though. He is a strong drinker; that's what he believes. But the fact that he might have thrown up once or twice in the past should change his pride.
He climbs up to the bed feeling tired. His head is pounding, and Joonmyun just wants to fall asleep and never wakes up because waking up is tiring. It requires getting sober and adapting to the reality.
Squeezing his eyes hard, he tries to come to his senses. Being a drunk, when he is not used to it, is really difficult, he decides. And before he realizes it, his thumb is already pressing a speed dial on number 1.
Joonmyun panics inside. Out of all things he would do when he is drunk, he is least expecting this one. His tiny sober part tells him to press the red button, cancelling the call. But Joonmyun doesn't get drunk very often, and the line is picked up by the sixth ring.
"Hello?" The familiar voice speaks through the speaker, and Joonmyun briefly wonders why Yifan hasn't changed his number yet.
"Hi," his voice comes out slurry.
"Joonmyun? Are you drunk?" Yifan sounds tired, but affectionate.
Perhaps he is just tired, but Joonmyun's drunken brain thinks it's affectionate. Perhaps it's both. Joonmyun doesn't care. It's Yifan. He speaks like they haven't had cold backs to each other for months, like they just talked with each other the previous day. He speaks like they haven't lost each other.
"Yifan," he starts. "I think I screwed up my English today." Because he couldn't think of anything else, and the laughs that were coming from the members' mouth were embarrassing, not supporting.
Yifan chuckles softly, Joonmyun barely catches it. "On the stage?"
"Where else?" Joonmyun whines. "I need to study."
"Then go study; practice with Baekhyun or something."
"I need you to teach me," Joonmyun whispers. His head feels airy; it hurts when he hears loud sounds. "Please," he says, because it's one of English words he knows, and he's desperate enough. He wants to cry.
"Joonmyun, you're drunk and you won't remember this in the morning," Yifan says even more tiredly. "Go to sleep. Are you alone?"
"Yes. No one wants to room with me," he says, still in whispers. "What about 50,000 won per hours?" He tries to get the conversation back to the main topic.
"Might as well make it in dollar, since we are international now," Yifan laughs briefly. "Why does no one want to room with you?"
Joonmyun shrugs, despite knowing that Yifan wouldn't be able to see it. "Because I'm a drunken mess," he admits quietly. He knows that out of all people, Yifan wouldn't judge him. He is awesome like that. That's why Joonmyun misses him.
Yifan hums into the phone; the kind of sound that Joonmyun misses a lot. It feels like it's just the other day Yifan hummed into his ear before they went to sleep. His vocal has improved a lot.
"500 dollar per hour?" Yifan asks, entirely ignoring Joonmyun's confession.
"Why is it so expensive?" Joonmyun lets out a snort, frowning. He turns his position around to lie on his right ribs, and now the pounding of his head is getting worse.
"I don't know." There is a pause, and perhaps Joonmyun could hope that Yifan is at loss for words, too. He could hope that Yifan might feel a little bit of headache, too. They used to share them together, looking for the cure together. They used to be together. "Can I ask something?"
Joonmyun's heart clenches at the tone. Yifan sounds so lonely, so distant and broken. He has heard this tone before, but what makes him hurts more is how he couldn't be there when Yifan needs him, and Yifan couldn't be there when he needs him. He wants to wrap his arms around him, like they usually did. "Yeah?" He asks softly.
"I know you won't remember in the morning, but I'll still remember and that's okay. This is also probably the only way I could get an honest answer from you," says Yifan quietly. Joonmyun closes his eyes, anticipating. "Do you hate me? After all this thing?"
Joonmyun's eyes fly open. "How are you expecting me not to hate you?" He frowns. Truth hurts; his head pounds and his heart aches. "It hurts so much, Yifan, the gap you left here. I can't stitch them together; can't do it alone. I missed you more than I should." He takes a long breathe, trying to easen up the pain on his temple. "That's why you need to teach me English. We might as well making me a proper filler for your empty place, you know? Sajang-nim would be pleased." He babbles, somehow still desperate about English. "I hate you, but I also don't. It's confusing, you know? I don't even know what I am feeling." The alcohol keeps making him telling the truth. He hopes Yifan would understand.
Yifan chuckles. "So typical of you; why did I even ask?" Joonmyun smiles. The words feel familiarly warm. "Fine. I'll even get you discounts. 10 dollar per hour because I'm nice like that."
"You're just saying that so you can end the call," Joonmyun says accusingly. "Are you mad? I'm sorry." He asks, his voice softening down. He kind of feels guilty.
"I'm not. I feel a lot better hearing the truth from you," he says, tone assuring. Though probably Joonmyun's words has hurt his heart one way or another. "Go to sleep, Joonmyun. It's late and you still have schedules tomorrow."
"Okay," Joonmyun breathes, because the pounding on his temples are worsening, begging him to close his eyes. Yifan doesn't have to know. "Okay."
"Good night, Jun," Yifan's voice is soft and warm. Like a lullaby, it lures Joonmyun into the realm of sleep. It assures him safety, the one that he has been missing for months.
"Good night, Fan."
--fin.
Secrecy
Kris/Suho, PG, 444 words
It's getting tired to hide your relationship from your feuding parents.
For ask.fm prompt. Highschool!AU.
"Hey."
Joonmyun turns around a little bit too fast at the tap on his shoulder. He needs to get home fast; his piano lesson would start in half an hour and the trip to his home takes around twenty minutes. He's not furious, no, he's just--why would someone call him when he's in dire need to go home?
But the familiar face he instantly recognizes calms him down. "Hey," he says in a soft voice. "I need to--"
"Piano lesson. I know." Yifan smiles. He curls his fingers around Joonmyun's wrist and tugs him into a secluded corner where rarely anyone passes by it. Joonmyun makes a protesting noise, but he doesn't struggle. He lets Yifan corners him until his back meets with an emergency exit door that is always locked. "It starts at five, right?"
"Yes," Joonmyun sighs. He puts his forehead on Yifan's chest, breathing in the faint musk of the taller's cologne. "And you have stolen two of my thirty minutes." He pouts, playfully jabbing at Yifan's ribs.
Yifan chuckles. He tries to pry away Joonmyun's fingers from his ribs and entangles them with his instead. It's warm. Joonmyun is always warm; like summer. Yifan loves summer. He likes being warm. "I could drive you home instead. It would take shorter time, and I get to spend more time with you."
"Yifan," says Joonmyun in a warning tone. He looks up and puts a serious expression. "My mom is home."
"I'm not my mother, nor my father. Whatever happened between them should not affect us." Yifan leans in to press a kiss on Joonmyun's temple; he has been wanting to do it since he finally found him. He could smell Joonmyun's shampoo. The other boy has never changed it since junior high school.
Joonmyun rolls his eyes, "Remember that time when your father even considered to have you moved to the other school when he found out we're attending the same school."
"That's in the past. We should fix it; we don't even know what makes them having a feud in the first place," says Yifan. "For now, let me drive you home, or at least to the street behind your block so your mother wouldn't find out."
"I'm still gonna smell like your car," Joonmyun pouts, but he doesn't disagree. "And don't drive slowly in purpose just so we could spend more time together. We're still going to Dongdaemun this Saturday, right?"
"Yes, yes. Your wish is my command, my prince." Yifan grins. He manages to duck away from Joonmyun's punch and laughs. "Come on, my car doesn't drive itself." He offers his hand to Joonmyun, who automatically accepts it.
--fin.
Kris/Suho, PG, 1206 words
Joonmyun takes emergency call to his late English tutor.
Warnings: mentioned drunk state.
Takes place after TLP Singapore.
Joonmyun's head is still buzzed with the amount of alcohol he dawned earlier. He doesn't usually drink after concerts, but the way Jongdae lured him into some glasses he guaranteed they wouldn't find in Korea ("I heard it's Singapore's finest, and the company is even paying for us," Jongdae said, wriggling his eyebrows newly trimmed eyebrows and flashing his white teeth.) was too much to deny. Joonmyun was about to give up after two glasses, but Chanyeol came and coaxed him for more. Baekhyun joined in and Joonmyun knew that he was in trouble. Those bastards.
He opens up his phone, realizing how he doesn't have internet connection all the way in Southeast Asia. He walks towards the room's table and finds the password for the hotel's wifi easily. He remembered how Jongin had spazzed briefly about how fast Singapore's internet connection is, though still not as fast as what they have in their own country. He checks the group chat and finds how the boys are still laughing over each other's ice bucket challenge video. Shaking his head, he sends some funny stickers and tells them off to sleep.
Baekhyun's reply is a laughing icon and a text telling him to go to sleep and not to get hangover the next day.
Joonmyun doesn't do hangovers, though. He is a strong drinker; that's what he believes. But the fact that he might have thrown up once or twice in the past should change his pride.
He climbs up to the bed feeling tired. His head is pounding, and Joonmyun just wants to fall asleep and never wakes up because waking up is tiring. It requires getting sober and adapting to the reality.
Squeezing his eyes hard, he tries to come to his senses. Being a drunk, when he is not used to it, is really difficult, he decides. And before he realizes it, his thumb is already pressing a speed dial on number 1.
Joonmyun panics inside. Out of all things he would do when he is drunk, he is least expecting this one. His tiny sober part tells him to press the red button, cancelling the call. But Joonmyun doesn't get drunk very often, and the line is picked up by the sixth ring.
"Hello?" The familiar voice speaks through the speaker, and Joonmyun briefly wonders why Yifan hasn't changed his number yet.
"Hi," his voice comes out slurry.
"Joonmyun? Are you drunk?" Yifan sounds tired, but affectionate.
Perhaps he is just tired, but Joonmyun's drunken brain thinks it's affectionate. Perhaps it's both. Joonmyun doesn't care. It's Yifan. He speaks like they haven't had cold backs to each other for months, like they just talked with each other the previous day. He speaks like they haven't lost each other.
"Yifan," he starts. "I think I screwed up my English today." Because he couldn't think of anything else, and the laughs that were coming from the members' mouth were embarrassing, not supporting.
Yifan chuckles softly, Joonmyun barely catches it. "On the stage?"
"Where else?" Joonmyun whines. "I need to study."
"Then go study; practice with Baekhyun or something."
"I need you to teach me," Joonmyun whispers. His head feels airy; it hurts when he hears loud sounds. "Please," he says, because it's one of English words he knows, and he's desperate enough. He wants to cry.
"Joonmyun, you're drunk and you won't remember this in the morning," Yifan says even more tiredly. "Go to sleep. Are you alone?"
"Yes. No one wants to room with me," he says, still in whispers. "What about 50,000 won per hours?" He tries to get the conversation back to the main topic.
"Might as well make it in dollar, since we are international now," Yifan laughs briefly. "Why does no one want to room with you?"
Joonmyun shrugs, despite knowing that Yifan wouldn't be able to see it. "Because I'm a drunken mess," he admits quietly. He knows that out of all people, Yifan wouldn't judge him. He is awesome like that. That's why Joonmyun misses him.
Yifan hums into the phone; the kind of sound that Joonmyun misses a lot. It feels like it's just the other day Yifan hummed into his ear before they went to sleep. His vocal has improved a lot.
"500 dollar per hour?" Yifan asks, entirely ignoring Joonmyun's confession.
"Why is it so expensive?" Joonmyun lets out a snort, frowning. He turns his position around to lie on his right ribs, and now the pounding of his head is getting worse.
"I don't know." There is a pause, and perhaps Joonmyun could hope that Yifan is at loss for words, too. He could hope that Yifan might feel a little bit of headache, too. They used to share them together, looking for the cure together. They used to be together. "Can I ask something?"
Joonmyun's heart clenches at the tone. Yifan sounds so lonely, so distant and broken. He has heard this tone before, but what makes him hurts more is how he couldn't be there when Yifan needs him, and Yifan couldn't be there when he needs him. He wants to wrap his arms around him, like they usually did. "Yeah?" He asks softly.
"I know you won't remember in the morning, but I'll still remember and that's okay. This is also probably the only way I could get an honest answer from you," says Yifan quietly. Joonmyun closes his eyes, anticipating. "Do you hate me? After all this thing?"
Joonmyun's eyes fly open. "How are you expecting me not to hate you?" He frowns. Truth hurts; his head pounds and his heart aches. "It hurts so much, Yifan, the gap you left here. I can't stitch them together; can't do it alone. I missed you more than I should." He takes a long breathe, trying to easen up the pain on his temple. "That's why you need to teach me English. We might as well making me a proper filler for your empty place, you know? Sajang-nim would be pleased." He babbles, somehow still desperate about English. "I hate you, but I also don't. It's confusing, you know? I don't even know what I am feeling." The alcohol keeps making him telling the truth. He hopes Yifan would understand.
Yifan chuckles. "So typical of you; why did I even ask?" Joonmyun smiles. The words feel familiarly warm. "Fine. I'll even get you discounts. 10 dollar per hour because I'm nice like that."
"You're just saying that so you can end the call," Joonmyun says accusingly. "Are you mad? I'm sorry." He asks, his voice softening down. He kind of feels guilty.
"I'm not. I feel a lot better hearing the truth from you," he says, tone assuring. Though probably Joonmyun's words has hurt his heart one way or another. "Go to sleep, Joonmyun. It's late and you still have schedules tomorrow."
"Okay," Joonmyun breathes, because the pounding on his temples are worsening, begging him to close his eyes. Yifan doesn't have to know. "Okay."
"Good night, Jun," Yifan's voice is soft and warm. Like a lullaby, it lures Joonmyun into the realm of sleep. It assures him safety, the one that he has been missing for months.
"Good night, Fan."
--fin.
Secrecy
Kris/Suho, PG, 444 words
It's getting tired to hide your relationship from your feuding parents.
For ask.fm prompt. Highschool!AU.
"Hey."
Joonmyun turns around a little bit too fast at the tap on his shoulder. He needs to get home fast; his piano lesson would start in half an hour and the trip to his home takes around twenty minutes. He's not furious, no, he's just--why would someone call him when he's in dire need to go home?
But the familiar face he instantly recognizes calms him down. "Hey," he says in a soft voice. "I need to--"
"Piano lesson. I know." Yifan smiles. He curls his fingers around Joonmyun's wrist and tugs him into a secluded corner where rarely anyone passes by it. Joonmyun makes a protesting noise, but he doesn't struggle. He lets Yifan corners him until his back meets with an emergency exit door that is always locked. "It starts at five, right?"
"Yes," Joonmyun sighs. He puts his forehead on Yifan's chest, breathing in the faint musk of the taller's cologne. "And you have stolen two of my thirty minutes." He pouts, playfully jabbing at Yifan's ribs.
Yifan chuckles. He tries to pry away Joonmyun's fingers from his ribs and entangles them with his instead. It's warm. Joonmyun is always warm; like summer. Yifan loves summer. He likes being warm. "I could drive you home instead. It would take shorter time, and I get to spend more time with you."
"Yifan," says Joonmyun in a warning tone. He looks up and puts a serious expression. "My mom is home."
"I'm not my mother, nor my father. Whatever happened between them should not affect us." Yifan leans in to press a kiss on Joonmyun's temple; he has been wanting to do it since he finally found him. He could smell Joonmyun's shampoo. The other boy has never changed it since junior high school.
Joonmyun rolls his eyes, "Remember that time when your father even considered to have you moved to the other school when he found out we're attending the same school."
"That's in the past. We should fix it; we don't even know what makes them having a feud in the first place," says Yifan. "For now, let me drive you home, or at least to the street behind your block so your mother wouldn't find out."
"I'm still gonna smell like your car," Joonmyun pouts, but he doesn't disagree. "And don't drive slowly in purpose just so we could spend more time together. We're still going to Dongdaemun this Saturday, right?"
"Yes, yes. Your wish is my command, my prince." Yifan grins. He manages to duck away from Joonmyun's punch and laughs. "Come on, my car doesn't drive itself." He offers his hand to Joonmyun, who automatically accepts it.
--fin.