Lament
Title: Lament
Pairing: Kangin-centric, Kangteuk
Genre: Fluff
Rating: PG-15
Warnings: Mentions of sex
Summary: Youngwooon thinks of all that he misses now that he's in the army.
Youngwoon lay back on his creaky army bunk and kicked off his boots, muscles aching too much to even bother pulling his thin blanket over himself. He resisted the urge to kick the mattress above his as the occupant snored away like a motorboat.
Turning over, he let himself think about what the other members must be doing at home. He wondered if Heechul had gotten over Hankyung yet, and if the Chinese member had won his lawsuit. He'd never been close to either of them, Heechul being crazy and Hankyung being awkward, but Heechul's face when Hankyung left was something he just couldn't forget; and he didn't want to return to Super Junior only to be faced with a bad tempered Heechul.
He wondered if Kibum had come back from America yet, whether Donghee had lost any weight and if Jongwoons turtles had died yet.
And like every night since he left for the army, he thought about Jungsu.
Ever since he'd left for his military service he'd found himself thinking about the older man whenever he had a lull in his routine. Was he ill again? Did he miss him? Was he over-working to make up for his absence? Silly little thoughts and worries making him lose concentration and landing him all too often in trouble with his sergeant.
Needless to say, Youngwoon was stressed. He'd woken up countless times the past few nights; turning over and expecting a thin, warm body to be pressed against his and only finding a cold pillow smelling of sweat and cheap detergent.
Youngwoon let out a sigh, too restless to sleep. He rolled onto his back, eyes lazily staring at the mattress above his; heavily depressed from his bunk-mates weight. He was surprised it hadn't collapsed on him yet.
He let his thoughts return to Jungsu. An image of that characteristic dimpled smile painting its way across his glazing eyes in the dark light, he let himself remember the feel of his soft auburn hair tickling his face as he nuzzled against his neck; arms wrapped around a warm, slim torso.
He remembered the times Jungsu would climb into bed wearing his 'abstinence pyjamas,' as he called them. They never worked, Jungsu had a habit of looking desirable no matter what he wore, because either way, Youngwoon knew he'd be taking it all off again.
And that was how Youngwoon liked him best, leaving nothing to the imagination. There was nothing he could imagine that could be better than the real thing, anyway. It wasn't for the sexual aspect, either, it was how there was nothing to hide between them when they were wearing nothing but skin; pressed impossibly close, just holding each other. Feeling their heartbeats thud against one-another's chests and whispering sweet nothings against soft lips.
Jungsu looked best when he was sleeping, Youngwoon thought. The fake smile he wore all day long would relax its hold on his pale lips, making him look fragile and delicate. The barriers he built around himself to block out the rest of the world wilting away into unguarded dreams, and Youngwoon often lay awake just watching the shadows play across his pretty face, slowly being illuminated as the night wore thin and daylight filtered in through the thin curtains.
He missed the downtime between schedules, the rare days they were both off work at the same time. He'd kick Donghae out of his room early in the morning and climb into bed with Jungsu; a whispered good morning and a soft peck on the cheek before he nuzzled his neck and pulled him tight against his chest, drowning in the other man's smell. Jungsu always smelt like honey; and if warmth had a scent, Youngwoon thought he'd smell of that too. Jungsu smelt like home.
He missed the feel of his soft, creamy skin against his calloused fingers as he absent-mindedly traced gentle circles on his thin hips, and the way they didn't even have to speak, just enjoying the lazy silence of a slow Sunday morning. He loved Jungsu's eyes, gazing deeply into his own, and the way they creased at the edges, pulled up as he smiled. It made his stomach do somersaults every time.
He missed his laugh, high pitched and oozing with all that was Jungsu. The members often told him to quiet down, that it was annoying. Youngwoon never wanted him to stop. Every quirk and imperfection made Jungsu all the more beautiful. All the more special. His Teukie.
Youngwoon loved listening to him speak. He'd spend his days off work just watching the shows he hosted, pride swelling in his chest as he watched him succeed. He loved catching him rehearsing his lines, or practising gags in front of the mirror, not noticing Youngwoons presence until he crept up behind him and wrapped his strong arms around his torso. 'you're perfect' he'd always whisper into his ear, because it was true, and even though Youngwoon told him every day, he never believed it.
There were things he disliked about Jungsu, too, sometimes he could say he hated them. Like when he'd flirt with the guests on Star King, girls shamelessly throwing themselves at him. He'd apologise and reassure him of his disinterest afterwards, but it still ate at him. He'd always make up for it, though.
He hated seeing him touch the other members on shows and at concerts. He knew it was just fan-service, they all did it, but that didn't change the fact that Jungsu was his. Only his.
He hated how insecure he could be sometimes, locking himself away after a bad day and not letting a soul come near him. Youngwoon didn't understand, because he didn't think there was anything to be insecure about. He'd plead his way into the room eventually, finding Jungsu buried under sheets and pillows, face puffy and red. He hated seeing him cry, but he hated it when he pretended to be okay even more. So he'd hold him, rocking him back and forth in his lap for hours as he sobbed against his chest. Sometimes they'd fall asleep like that, waking up to the members gathered at the door, catcalls and snide remarks filling the room. Mostly from Heechul.
He hated the way he let the fans insult him. He'd never complain, just lock himself away and cry quietly, or just not react at all. He liked Jungsu when he was real, even if that meant a big blubbering mess on his shirt. He gave Jungsu everything, he expected the same back.
But all the things he hated would get lost in the dark recesses of his mind when he'd see him smile at him.
When he felt those soft lips moving against his in the secrecy of his room, the darkness intensifying every touch, every moan echoing in the silence. He'd forget how he hated the thinness of his thighs as they wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, so close. He'd forget how he hated his long nails as they clawed at his back, leaving angry red marks on his tan skin. He'd forget any argument they'd been having before, all the harsh words spat meaninglessly from frustration and stress muffled and lost between sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.
He'd forget it all.
He thought about the future. Would Jungsu still be there when he came back? And what if he left for his military service as soon as he came back?
Youngwoon would wait forever if it meant he'd be the one making him smile.
He remembered the time they were making love, thinking the members were all out on schedules. Jungsu, pushed against the cold bathroom tiles, moaning his name.
It took weeks to cleanse the image from Donghee's head.
And that was a problem he hated the most. Privacy. In a band with thirteen men, privacy was hard to find, even if Kibum wasn't there any more and if Siwon lived at home - though he always seemed to be at the dorms - there were no secrets to be kept when you were constantly around so many people. You couldn't even shower alone, the hot water being so expensive - though that created many wonderful instances with Jungsu, slick and wet and not complaining about cleaning up. Morning sex was best.
One day, when they were too old for Super Junior, Youngwoon thought he'd buy a nice cottage with Jungsu. Even if homosexuality was frowned upon, they could always move to another country. They could marry, not that marriage mattered to Youngwoon, but if Jungsu wanted to, he would. They could adopt, Jungsu had always wanted children. Something they could never have.
Youngwoon thought Jungsu would look beautiful, even in old age. If there was one thing he'd always wish for, it would be to grow old with Jungsu. Even if his hair went grey, if it receded back like a great coming of the tide; even if his face became wrinkled and wise, creased with the wearing of time; even if his skin grew thin, yellowed and mapped out with veins.
Even if he had to watch him die. He'd hold his hand in his to the very end, even as it grew cold and limp, and as the light faded from his chocolate brown eyes, he'd hold on. He'd kiss those pale lips one last time, and he'd close his eyelids, pressing his lips gently against each one. He wouldn't cry, there'd be no reason. Jungsu was happiness, it was only right his last memory should be one bereft of sadness.
Because it wouldn't be a goodbye, just like it wasn't a goodbye when he left for the army.
It was a promise to see each other again, be it in this life or the next.
He knew he'd find him again, even if he'd have to search for eternity.
And he would.
Because there was no Youngwoon without Jungsu.
an: It's terrible, but I still cried. Kangteuk is my fluffy angsty muse ;a;
Pairing: Kangin-centric, Kangteuk
Genre: Fluff
Rating: PG-15
Warnings: Mentions of sex
Summary: Youngwooon thinks of all that he misses now that he's in the army.
Youngwoon lay back on his creaky army bunk and kicked off his boots, muscles aching too much to even bother pulling his thin blanket over himself. He resisted the urge to kick the mattress above his as the occupant snored away like a motorboat.
Turning over, he let himself think about what the other members must be doing at home. He wondered if Heechul had gotten over Hankyung yet, and if the Chinese member had won his lawsuit. He'd never been close to either of them, Heechul being crazy and Hankyung being awkward, but Heechul's face when Hankyung left was something he just couldn't forget; and he didn't want to return to Super Junior only to be faced with a bad tempered Heechul.
He wondered if Kibum had come back from America yet, whether Donghee had lost any weight and if Jongwoons turtles had died yet.
And like every night since he left for the army, he thought about Jungsu.
Ever since he'd left for his military service he'd found himself thinking about the older man whenever he had a lull in his routine. Was he ill again? Did he miss him? Was he over-working to make up for his absence? Silly little thoughts and worries making him lose concentration and landing him all too often in trouble with his sergeant.
Needless to say, Youngwoon was stressed. He'd woken up countless times the past few nights; turning over and expecting a thin, warm body to be pressed against his and only finding a cold pillow smelling of sweat and cheap detergent.
Youngwoon let out a sigh, too restless to sleep. He rolled onto his back, eyes lazily staring at the mattress above his; heavily depressed from his bunk-mates weight. He was surprised it hadn't collapsed on him yet.
He let his thoughts return to Jungsu. An image of that characteristic dimpled smile painting its way across his glazing eyes in the dark light, he let himself remember the feel of his soft auburn hair tickling his face as he nuzzled against his neck; arms wrapped around a warm, slim torso.
He remembered the times Jungsu would climb into bed wearing his 'abstinence pyjamas,' as he called them. They never worked, Jungsu had a habit of looking desirable no matter what he wore, because either way, Youngwoon knew he'd be taking it all off again.
And that was how Youngwoon liked him best, leaving nothing to the imagination. There was nothing he could imagine that could be better than the real thing, anyway. It wasn't for the sexual aspect, either, it was how there was nothing to hide between them when they were wearing nothing but skin; pressed impossibly close, just holding each other. Feeling their heartbeats thud against one-another's chests and whispering sweet nothings against soft lips.
Jungsu looked best when he was sleeping, Youngwoon thought. The fake smile he wore all day long would relax its hold on his pale lips, making him look fragile and delicate. The barriers he built around himself to block out the rest of the world wilting away into unguarded dreams, and Youngwoon often lay awake just watching the shadows play across his pretty face, slowly being illuminated as the night wore thin and daylight filtered in through the thin curtains.
He missed the downtime between schedules, the rare days they were both off work at the same time. He'd kick Donghae out of his room early in the morning and climb into bed with Jungsu; a whispered good morning and a soft peck on the cheek before he nuzzled his neck and pulled him tight against his chest, drowning in the other man's smell. Jungsu always smelt like honey; and if warmth had a scent, Youngwoon thought he'd smell of that too. Jungsu smelt like home.
He missed the feel of his soft, creamy skin against his calloused fingers as he absent-mindedly traced gentle circles on his thin hips, and the way they didn't even have to speak, just enjoying the lazy silence of a slow Sunday morning. He loved Jungsu's eyes, gazing deeply into his own, and the way they creased at the edges, pulled up as he smiled. It made his stomach do somersaults every time.
He missed his laugh, high pitched and oozing with all that was Jungsu. The members often told him to quiet down, that it was annoying. Youngwoon never wanted him to stop. Every quirk and imperfection made Jungsu all the more beautiful. All the more special. His Teukie.
Youngwoon loved listening to him speak. He'd spend his days off work just watching the shows he hosted, pride swelling in his chest as he watched him succeed. He loved catching him rehearsing his lines, or practising gags in front of the mirror, not noticing Youngwoons presence until he crept up behind him and wrapped his strong arms around his torso. 'you're perfect' he'd always whisper into his ear, because it was true, and even though Youngwoon told him every day, he never believed it.
There were things he disliked about Jungsu, too, sometimes he could say he hated them. Like when he'd flirt with the guests on Star King, girls shamelessly throwing themselves at him. He'd apologise and reassure him of his disinterest afterwards, but it still ate at him. He'd always make up for it, though.
He hated seeing him touch the other members on shows and at concerts. He knew it was just fan-service, they all did it, but that didn't change the fact that Jungsu was his. Only his.
He hated how insecure he could be sometimes, locking himself away after a bad day and not letting a soul come near him. Youngwoon didn't understand, because he didn't think there was anything to be insecure about. He'd plead his way into the room eventually, finding Jungsu buried under sheets and pillows, face puffy and red. He hated seeing him cry, but he hated it when he pretended to be okay even more. So he'd hold him, rocking him back and forth in his lap for hours as he sobbed against his chest. Sometimes they'd fall asleep like that, waking up to the members gathered at the door, catcalls and snide remarks filling the room. Mostly from Heechul.
He hated the way he let the fans insult him. He'd never complain, just lock himself away and cry quietly, or just not react at all. He liked Jungsu when he was real, even if that meant a big blubbering mess on his shirt. He gave Jungsu everything, he expected the same back.
But all the things he hated would get lost in the dark recesses of his mind when he'd see him smile at him.
When he felt those soft lips moving against his in the secrecy of his room, the darkness intensifying every touch, every moan echoing in the silence. He'd forget how he hated the thinness of his thighs as they wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, so close. He'd forget how he hated his long nails as they clawed at his back, leaving angry red marks on his tan skin. He'd forget any argument they'd been having before, all the harsh words spat meaninglessly from frustration and stress muffled and lost between sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.
He'd forget it all.
He thought about the future. Would Jungsu still be there when he came back? And what if he left for his military service as soon as he came back?
Youngwoon would wait forever if it meant he'd be the one making him smile.
He remembered the time they were making love, thinking the members were all out on schedules. Jungsu, pushed against the cold bathroom tiles, moaning his name.
It took weeks to cleanse the image from Donghee's head.
And that was a problem he hated the most. Privacy. In a band with thirteen men, privacy was hard to find, even if Kibum wasn't there any more and if Siwon lived at home - though he always seemed to be at the dorms - there were no secrets to be kept when you were constantly around so many people. You couldn't even shower alone, the hot water being so expensive - though that created many wonderful instances with Jungsu, slick and wet and not complaining about cleaning up. Morning sex was best.
One day, when they were too old for Super Junior, Youngwoon thought he'd buy a nice cottage with Jungsu. Even if homosexuality was frowned upon, they could always move to another country. They could marry, not that marriage mattered to Youngwoon, but if Jungsu wanted to, he would. They could adopt, Jungsu had always wanted children. Something they could never have.
Youngwoon thought Jungsu would look beautiful, even in old age. If there was one thing he'd always wish for, it would be to grow old with Jungsu. Even if his hair went grey, if it receded back like a great coming of the tide; even if his face became wrinkled and wise, creased with the wearing of time; even if his skin grew thin, yellowed and mapped out with veins.
Even if he had to watch him die. He'd hold his hand in his to the very end, even as it grew cold and limp, and as the light faded from his chocolate brown eyes, he'd hold on. He'd kiss those pale lips one last time, and he'd close his eyelids, pressing his lips gently against each one. He wouldn't cry, there'd be no reason. Jungsu was happiness, it was only right his last memory should be one bereft of sadness.
Because it wouldn't be a goodbye, just like it wasn't a goodbye when he left for the army.
It was a promise to see each other again, be it in this life or the next.
He knew he'd find him again, even if he'd have to search for eternity.
And he would.
Because there was no Youngwoon without Jungsu.
an: It's terrible, but I still cried. Kangteuk is my fluffy angsty muse ;a;