[ Jjanggae ] hs!AU HanChul Pt2
Hanchul
highschool!AU
Part II
Hankyung dutifully came back from China after ten days and Heechul was there waiting for him at the airport with the announcement that he would be staying the night at Heechul’s house. Having no qualms about it, Hankyung nodded and ushered Heechul out of the airport; he was getting tired of terminals.
Later that night the two sat in Heechul’s room, Heechul sitting on the edge of his bed as he inked and finalized a sketch, Hankyung on the floor with a leg of Heechul’s over each shoulder as he massaged the Korean’s calves. They sit in near silence, the quiet only broken by Hankyung softly humming a song Heechul must’ve heard a thousand times by now, but still didn’t know the words to.
When Heechul calls his name, making nervous little hash marks with his pen in the top corner of his sketch book, Hankyung dutifully quiets and turns his head to look at the older boy. When he looks up from his paper to see the other’s light brown eyes watching him, waiting, Heechul thinks that maybe he can’t say this after all.
“Hankyung,” he repeats, trying to find somewhere to start. “How do you . . . if I were-” He stops to take a deep breath. It’s not like he’s actually talking about himself; he’s merely asking where his friend’s beliefs and boundaries lie. Right? “What do you think about gay people?”
When the question finally came out it was shaky and quiet, but Hankyung heard (he always hears). If he were honest with himself, he could probably make a pretty good guess on what Heechul was really wanting or trying to say, but he always preferred to take things at face-value. “Well, they’re no different than straight people, really. Why?” A little push wouldn’t hurt, he thought. Maybe he’d actually be able to find out what was going on in Heechul’s head. “Are you planning on introducing me to a gay friend of yours?”
“N-no, I was just curious,” he was assured. Even as he said it Heechul couldn’t tell if it was a lie or not. The hole he had worn in the thick paper with his pen seemed to tease him, Oh, you’re curious alright.
It was already too far past midnight and Heechul still hadn’t managed to fall asleep; he was too aware of the warm body curled up back-to-back against him. He listened to Hankyung snore quietly behind him as he stared at the wall, trying to make sense of everything that happened so quickly. Heechul was starting to get a headache from being so awake and so exhausted at the same time so he started reading study cards he and Hankyung had thumb-tacked to the wall, trying anything to distract his mind from the teenager behind him.
On his fifth time through the notes, Heechul had the cards all but memorized and was actually pleased to find it was getting increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open. He let them close and sighed, happy to finally get some shut-eye. Just as he was ready to really fall asleep, Hankyung shifted against him, rolling over and throwing an arm over Heechul’s waist with his face nuzzled against the back of his neck. Heechul blinked his eyes open and glared at the wall. Someone, somewhere, must really hate him right now; and they could rest assured the feeling was mutual.
Heechul started reading the notes again with a sigh, this time aloud but under his breath. Sleep seemed even farther away than before and he felt even more exhausted. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping he could force himself asleep. Heechul must have been louder than he thought when he was reading the notes because all of a sudden Hankyung’s hand on his stomach started moving in wide, slow circles as Hankyung whispered hoarsely for him to relax and go to sleep. He tensed under the other’s palm; he hated himself right then for how the innocent gesture made him feel.
Hankyung could feel him freeze up and removed his hand, folding his arm back up against himself, trying not to touch the older boy. He couldn’t help but to feel hurt at his friend’s cold reaction, but respected it all the same. Staring at the back of Heechul’s head, the black hair still neat and smooth, he sighed before humming the same folk tune from earlier. Heechul could feel himself being lulled to sleep by the melody and eventually relaxed completely, slowly slipping into that unconscious state.
That night Heechul dreamt of logarithms being taught by a golden skinned archer with honey colored hair on his way to the moon.
Heechul hated to admit it, but he had been avoiding Hankyung since the Incident, as he refers to it. He was only mildly surprised when the Chinese male practically cornered him in the library one day after school.
“I give up, Heechul!” Hankyung was legitimately angry with him, and Heechul didn’t know what do or say. He bowed his head, not daring to look the other in the eye. Hankyung continued on, “I’ve spent the past two weeks you’ve been ignoring me wondering, worrying about what I could have done to make you so angry, and I still don’t know what I’ve done. Could you please just tell me what’s going on?” Heechul still refused to look up, shaking his head silently.
He could feel the rare anger radiating off Hankyung, off his sweet, soft Han Geng. Hankyung turned Heechul’s face up forcefully with a hand roughly holding his chin. His next rant died in his open mouth when he saw that Heechul was crying, his eyes squeezed shut. He recognized the one-sided clench of Heechul’s jaw and shook his head gently with the hand still on Heechul’s chin. “Quit biting your tongue so hard!” Heechul gave a muffled hiccup that may have been a sob and shook his head slightly. “Heechul, let go,” Hankyung moved his hand back, squeezing Heechul’s cheeks in until he could feel his tongue slipping out from between his teeth, his jaw slackening with a choked gasp.
Heechul hated crying in front of people; he rarely cried when he was alone. Crying just wasn’t something Kim Heechul did. Yet there he was, a hiccupping mess in front Hankyung. “Heechul-ah,” he heard Hankyung drawl softly. All of the anger from before seemed to be gone and he spoke quietly, cautiously. Hankyung tsked before gently demanding, “Let me see your tongue.” Heechul sniffed, calming down now that the other was calm. He tilted his head back and opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out. There was a shallow gash and it was bleeding, but it would heal over night.
Hankyung fished a water bottle out of Heechul’s own bag, instructing him to take a few drinks to rinse out his mouth. While Heechul was drinking, Hankyung tried asking for an explanation again. “So are you going to tell me what’s going now?” Some of the hardness was coming back to Hankyung’s voice and Heechul swallowed his drink nervously, avoiding eye contact again. “Heechul, please don’t-”
“I like you,” he cut Hankyung off loudly. He still refused to look at Hankyung, his eyes flickering here and there without ever holding still for more than a second.
Hankyung stilled, studying what he could see of Heechul’s face. “E-excuse me?”
“I said I like you,” Heechul reiterated almost too quietly. But Hankyung heard; Hankyung always hears.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” If he had looked up then, the black-haired boy would’ve seen his junior visibly fighting down a smirk.
But he didn’t, so he repeated himself again, this time louder and even more so embarrassed. “IlikeyouIlikeyouIlikeyouI . . . I think I might love you.” This last part was whispered as if saying it too loudly would make it true. Hankyung stayed quiet and Heechul started fretting and regretting, twisting and crunching the empty water bottle in his hands.
Hankyung gently pried the bottle out of Heechul’s hands and pulled the other in for a hug with a chuckle. Heechul tensed in the hug, confused. Was this a joke now? Or maybe a farewell-hug because, I’m sorry, we can’t be friends anymore now that you’re gay?
The thought made Heechul’s eyes burn with tears and before he knew it, he was crying again into the folds of Hankyung’s hoodie. He felt himself being push back lightly and he rushed to wipe his face with his shirt sleeve. Hankyung just sighed. “I’m not going to just ditch you, ya know. It’s not like it’s a huge deal, anyways.”
Heechul’s heart dropped a little further down his rib cage. What was that supposed to mean? “H-How can you say it’s not a big deal, though?” He calmed himself down with deep breaths and mulled over his next words; he refused to make this about them since Hankyung seemed to be ignoring his confession. “I don’t know what things are like in China, but here, being gay isn’t exactly the way to win the hearts of the masses!” His voice quivered and he cursed in his head before swallowing hard and standing a little straighter. “Maybe everyone’s right, maybe you’re just a stupid jjanggae, after all.” Heechul tried to make his voice sound cold and annoyed, but all he could think about was close he was to breaking down again.
No one told him confessing would be so emotionally wrecking.
“H-Hee-” Hankyung cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the heavy lump there now. “Heechul-ah, you don’t mean that.” He took a half-step forward and reached to touch Heechul’s arm, but the distraught Korean backed up to the table and chair a few steps behind him.
“What if I do?” He tilted his nose up a little, trying to act like he’d seen others do when they realized Hankyung was Chinese.
“But you don’t . . . right?” Heechul caught the shake in his voice and gave up trying to give him up. He all but threw himself down onto the chair, dropping his head into his arms which were resting on the table.
“No, no Hankyung, I don’t,” he admittedly a tad loudly. He kept his face buried in his arms and his words came out muffled. “I just thought it’d be easier to-”
“Oh, thank God, because I really like you too and I don’t know what I would’ve done if that’s how you really feel!” Hankyung’s words came out in a rush of breath and Heechul had a hard time understanding. When he finally deciphered the other’s sentence he raised his head, frowning; did he miss something?
Had Hankyung just confessed?
Looking around he realized the younger boy had flopped down in the chair beside his and was currently stretched out with his arms dangling at the side and his head hanging back over the backrest of the chair. Heechul was momentarily distracted by the tan arch of the other’s neck before he gathered enough sense to ask Hankyung to repeat himself, but slower this time.
Hankyung did as he was told, his cheeks a little pinker than Heechul remembers them ever being, and Heechul decides that no, he hadn’t missed anything and yes, Hankyung had just confessed to him. This got Heechul’s heart beating a little faster and he felt like he could run for sleepless days on that adrenaline rush alone.
The Chinese student sat up straight suddenly and scooted his chair closer, leaning forward, his face close to Heechul’s now. “Heechul, are you serious when you say you like me?” Hankyung’s expression was unreadable and Heechul was almost afraid to answer. In the end, though, he nodded since he didn’t trust his himself enough to open his mouth. A couple beats later and Hankyung’s face stretched into a wide grin and he closed the space between them to engulf Heechul into a hug. He pulled the smaller boy up with him as he stood, pulling back with his hands on Heechul’s shoulders.
“Now what?” Heechul questioned nervously, quietly, after a short, comfortable silence. Hankyung drew him back into his arms with a soft grin.
“Now,” he started, pressing his lips to Heechul’s hair. “Now, we kiss.” Hankyung planted a chaste kiss on the other’s flushed cheek before pulling back a little to take in Heechul’s face. “That is, if that’s alright with you,” he smirked.
As Heechul pulled Hankyung back down to his mouth, he thought and smiled about just how alright everything was now.
A/N:: "Jjanggae" is a sort of derogatory word Koreans use for Chinese people~
Ah~~ I'm finally done! And crap ending is crap T^T It feels so rushed and blaaah. I hope I haven't let anyone down, because I feel like the first part is so much better than this junk *--*
highschool!AU
Part II
Hankyung dutifully came back from China after ten days and Heechul was there waiting for him at the airport with the announcement that he would be staying the night at Heechul’s house. Having no qualms about it, Hankyung nodded and ushered Heechul out of the airport; he was getting tired of terminals.
Later that night the two sat in Heechul’s room, Heechul sitting on the edge of his bed as he inked and finalized a sketch, Hankyung on the floor with a leg of Heechul’s over each shoulder as he massaged the Korean’s calves. They sit in near silence, the quiet only broken by Hankyung softly humming a song Heechul must’ve heard a thousand times by now, but still didn’t know the words to.
When Heechul calls his name, making nervous little hash marks with his pen in the top corner of his sketch book, Hankyung dutifully quiets and turns his head to look at the older boy. When he looks up from his paper to see the other’s light brown eyes watching him, waiting, Heechul thinks that maybe he can’t say this after all.
“Hankyung,” he repeats, trying to find somewhere to start. “How do you . . . if I were-” He stops to take a deep breath. It’s not like he’s actually talking about himself; he’s merely asking where his friend’s beliefs and boundaries lie. Right? “What do you think about gay people?”
When the question finally came out it was shaky and quiet, but Hankyung heard (he always hears). If he were honest with himself, he could probably make a pretty good guess on what Heechul was really wanting or trying to say, but he always preferred to take things at face-value. “Well, they’re no different than straight people, really. Why?” A little push wouldn’t hurt, he thought. Maybe he’d actually be able to find out what was going on in Heechul’s head. “Are you planning on introducing me to a gay friend of yours?”
“N-no, I was just curious,” he was assured. Even as he said it Heechul couldn’t tell if it was a lie or not. The hole he had worn in the thick paper with his pen seemed to tease him, Oh, you’re curious alright.
It was already too far past midnight and Heechul still hadn’t managed to fall asleep; he was too aware of the warm body curled up back-to-back against him. He listened to Hankyung snore quietly behind him as he stared at the wall, trying to make sense of everything that happened so quickly. Heechul was starting to get a headache from being so awake and so exhausted at the same time so he started reading study cards he and Hankyung had thumb-tacked to the wall, trying anything to distract his mind from the teenager behind him.
On his fifth time through the notes, Heechul had the cards all but memorized and was actually pleased to find it was getting increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open. He let them close and sighed, happy to finally get some shut-eye. Just as he was ready to really fall asleep, Hankyung shifted against him, rolling over and throwing an arm over Heechul’s waist with his face nuzzled against the back of his neck. Heechul blinked his eyes open and glared at the wall. Someone, somewhere, must really hate him right now; and they could rest assured the feeling was mutual.
Heechul started reading the notes again with a sigh, this time aloud but under his breath. Sleep seemed even farther away than before and he felt even more exhausted. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping he could force himself asleep. Heechul must have been louder than he thought when he was reading the notes because all of a sudden Hankyung’s hand on his stomach started moving in wide, slow circles as Hankyung whispered hoarsely for him to relax and go to sleep. He tensed under the other’s palm; he hated himself right then for how the innocent gesture made him feel.
Hankyung could feel him freeze up and removed his hand, folding his arm back up against himself, trying not to touch the older boy. He couldn’t help but to feel hurt at his friend’s cold reaction, but respected it all the same. Staring at the back of Heechul’s head, the black hair still neat and smooth, he sighed before humming the same folk tune from earlier. Heechul could feel himself being lulled to sleep by the melody and eventually relaxed completely, slowly slipping into that unconscious state.
That night Heechul dreamt of logarithms being taught by a golden skinned archer with honey colored hair on his way to the moon.
Heechul hated to admit it, but he had been avoiding Hankyung since the Incident, as he refers to it. He was only mildly surprised when the Chinese male practically cornered him in the library one day after school.
“I give up, Heechul!” Hankyung was legitimately angry with him, and Heechul didn’t know what do or say. He bowed his head, not daring to look the other in the eye. Hankyung continued on, “I’ve spent the past two weeks you’ve been ignoring me wondering, worrying about what I could have done to make you so angry, and I still don’t know what I’ve done. Could you please just tell me what’s going on?” Heechul still refused to look up, shaking his head silently.
He could feel the rare anger radiating off Hankyung, off his sweet, soft Han Geng. Hankyung turned Heechul’s face up forcefully with a hand roughly holding his chin. His next rant died in his open mouth when he saw that Heechul was crying, his eyes squeezed shut. He recognized the one-sided clench of Heechul’s jaw and shook his head gently with the hand still on Heechul’s chin. “Quit biting your tongue so hard!” Heechul gave a muffled hiccup that may have been a sob and shook his head slightly. “Heechul, let go,” Hankyung moved his hand back, squeezing Heechul’s cheeks in until he could feel his tongue slipping out from between his teeth, his jaw slackening with a choked gasp.
Heechul hated crying in front of people; he rarely cried when he was alone. Crying just wasn’t something Kim Heechul did. Yet there he was, a hiccupping mess in front Hankyung. “Heechul-ah,” he heard Hankyung drawl softly. All of the anger from before seemed to be gone and he spoke quietly, cautiously. Hankyung tsked before gently demanding, “Let me see your tongue.” Heechul sniffed, calming down now that the other was calm. He tilted his head back and opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out. There was a shallow gash and it was bleeding, but it would heal over night.
Hankyung fished a water bottle out of Heechul’s own bag, instructing him to take a few drinks to rinse out his mouth. While Heechul was drinking, Hankyung tried asking for an explanation again. “So are you going to tell me what’s going now?” Some of the hardness was coming back to Hankyung’s voice and Heechul swallowed his drink nervously, avoiding eye contact again. “Heechul, please don’t-”
“I like you,” he cut Hankyung off loudly. He still refused to look at Hankyung, his eyes flickering here and there without ever holding still for more than a second.
Hankyung stilled, studying what he could see of Heechul’s face. “E-excuse me?”
“I said I like you,” Heechul reiterated almost too quietly. But Hankyung heard; Hankyung always hears.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” If he had looked up then, the black-haired boy would’ve seen his junior visibly fighting down a smirk.
But he didn’t, so he repeated himself again, this time louder and even more so embarrassed. “IlikeyouIlikeyouIlikeyouI . . . I think I might love you.” This last part was whispered as if saying it too loudly would make it true. Hankyung stayed quiet and Heechul started fretting and regretting, twisting and crunching the empty water bottle in his hands.
Hankyung gently pried the bottle out of Heechul’s hands and pulled the other in for a hug with a chuckle. Heechul tensed in the hug, confused. Was this a joke now? Or maybe a farewell-hug because, I’m sorry, we can’t be friends anymore now that you’re gay?
The thought made Heechul’s eyes burn with tears and before he knew it, he was crying again into the folds of Hankyung’s hoodie. He felt himself being push back lightly and he rushed to wipe his face with his shirt sleeve. Hankyung just sighed. “I’m not going to just ditch you, ya know. It’s not like it’s a huge deal, anyways.”
Heechul’s heart dropped a little further down his rib cage. What was that supposed to mean? “H-How can you say it’s not a big deal, though?” He calmed himself down with deep breaths and mulled over his next words; he refused to make this about them since Hankyung seemed to be ignoring his confession. “I don’t know what things are like in China, but here, being gay isn’t exactly the way to win the hearts of the masses!” His voice quivered and he cursed in his head before swallowing hard and standing a little straighter. “Maybe everyone’s right, maybe you’re just a stupid jjanggae, after all.” Heechul tried to make his voice sound cold and annoyed, but all he could think about was close he was to breaking down again.
No one told him confessing would be so emotionally wrecking.
“H-Hee-” Hankyung cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the heavy lump there now. “Heechul-ah, you don’t mean that.” He took a half-step forward and reached to touch Heechul’s arm, but the distraught Korean backed up to the table and chair a few steps behind him.
“What if I do?” He tilted his nose up a little, trying to act like he’d seen others do when they realized Hankyung was Chinese.
“But you don’t . . . right?” Heechul caught the shake in his voice and gave up trying to give him up. He all but threw himself down onto the chair, dropping his head into his arms which were resting on the table.
“No, no Hankyung, I don’t,” he admittedly a tad loudly. He kept his face buried in his arms and his words came out muffled. “I just thought it’d be easier to-”
“Oh, thank God, because I really like you too and I don’t know what I would’ve done if that’s how you really feel!” Hankyung’s words came out in a rush of breath and Heechul had a hard time understanding. When he finally deciphered the other’s sentence he raised his head, frowning; did he miss something?
Had Hankyung just confessed?
Looking around he realized the younger boy had flopped down in the chair beside his and was currently stretched out with his arms dangling at the side and his head hanging back over the backrest of the chair. Heechul was momentarily distracted by the tan arch of the other’s neck before he gathered enough sense to ask Hankyung to repeat himself, but slower this time.
Hankyung did as he was told, his cheeks a little pinker than Heechul remembers them ever being, and Heechul decides that no, he hadn’t missed anything and yes, Hankyung had just confessed to him. This got Heechul’s heart beating a little faster and he felt like he could run for sleepless days on that adrenaline rush alone.
The Chinese student sat up straight suddenly and scooted his chair closer, leaning forward, his face close to Heechul’s now. “Heechul, are you serious when you say you like me?” Hankyung’s expression was unreadable and Heechul was almost afraid to answer. In the end, though, he nodded since he didn’t trust his himself enough to open his mouth. A couple beats later and Hankyung’s face stretched into a wide grin and he closed the space between them to engulf Heechul into a hug. He pulled the smaller boy up with him as he stood, pulling back with his hands on Heechul’s shoulders.
“Now what?” Heechul questioned nervously, quietly, after a short, comfortable silence. Hankyung drew him back into his arms with a soft grin.
“Now,” he started, pressing his lips to Heechul’s hair. “Now, we kiss.” Hankyung planted a chaste kiss on the other’s flushed cheek before pulling back a little to take in Heechul’s face. “That is, if that’s alright with you,” he smirked.
As Heechul pulled Hankyung back down to his mouth, he thought and smiled about just how alright everything was now.
A/N:: "Jjanggae" is a sort of derogatory word Koreans use for Chinese people~
Ah~~ I'm finally done! And crap ending is crap T^T It feels so rushed and blaaah. I hope I haven't let anyone down, because I feel like the first part is so much better than this junk *--*