round 04, challenge eight: entry #2
Title: if you just smile
Fandom and Pairing: DBSK/Super Junior, Heechul/Yunho
Rating: pg.
Word Count: 1000.
Summary: If anger is the disease, kindness is the cure. Heechul's been taking his for granted for far too long.
Warnings: none.
When Heechul is twenty-three, he almost jumps off a building. He stands on the roof, alone with no shoes and no real reason to be there -but he doesn’t care. He’s drunk and out of sorts and his toes curl around the roof’s edge.
He imagines the jump. He’s going down, down, watching the lights streak by and the stars get further away and the sidewalk fall up to meet him. He can see the details of the concrete, water stains and spider-fine faults, and when he hits the ground he slips through one of those cracks, into dirt and darkness and nothing.
**
Yunho is one of the first people he meets when he joins SM, and he doesn’t even like him. He’d joined thinking he would be a big star -instantly, effortlessly. He certainly doesn’t expect to be the lowest notch on the rope, but that’s what he is. And here’s Yunho, this kid that’s younger yet more experienced, in charge of teaching him, Kim Heechul, how to dance, and has the audacity to grin like Heechul’s a five-year-old who’s still learning how to finger-paint.
It changes, ironically, when Yunho’s being so good it’s ridiculous. A bunch of trainees go out, and as the eldest Heechul makes it his duty to also be the drunkest. When he tries to stand he nearly falls over.
“Easy there,” someone steadies him. Heechul’s head spins. “You okay?”
“Dizzy’n I…” he lurches, the taste of beer and stomach-acid curling on his tongue. “Gonna-”
That someone half-carries him forward and Heechul barely notices, intent on keeping his stomach out of his throat. He ends up heaving into the gutter as a hand rubs his back. Nails scratch in circles and his eye close, the feeling sharp and welcome.
“Thanks,” he eventually says, only to lift his eyes and nearly get blinded by that annoyingly familiar grin.
“Fuck. Your teeth’re too white t’be normal, ’know that?”
Yunho laughs. “Feeling better?” he asks.
“You’ra freak,” Heechul says, wiping at his mouth.
The younger boy just keeps on smiling, eyes telling Heechul that he’s not going to fight. Fuck, even his eyes are too perfect to be normal. “Let’s get back, okay?”
Heechul is nineteen and one day, he’s going to be a big star. Today, he thinks he’s going to give in and actually like this guy.
**
Though, it’s not like he ever had any intention of being nice about it. He takes delight in mocking Yunho, from his slight accent to his goofy-gentle manner. “Who would make you a star? You’ve got nothing on me,” he mocks.
“You’re gonna end up as some big-shot asshole,” he says when Yunho debuts before him, with his new, perfect, impossibly popular band. “Your tiny face will look dumb on such a big head.”
“What do they even see in you?” He says, when Yunho gets so popular he’s got no time for anyone, and Heechul feels old resentment settle under his skin.
He’s Heechul’s verbal punching bag - but, as always, Yunho just shakes it off, like nothing can bring him down.
**
“Someday,” Jay tells him, “you’re gonna regret being such an ass to him.”
“What?” Heechul says, barely paying attention. “No I’m not, don’t say stupid things.”
“Just you watch,” Jay warns, barely being serious. “Something awful is going to happen and you’re going to be sorry.”
**
Something awful happens.
He finds out through their manager and when he does, he goes batshit. He screams in the dorms, rants on cyworld, and dreams of wringing that girls’ neck, hands twitching in his sleep.
He is Kim Heechul and now, he is a big star. Today, his best friend was hurt, was poisoned, and he’s completely helpless.
**
That night on the roof, he doesn’t jump. He takes a deep breath, steps away from the edge and goes down to catch a cab to the hospital.
**
When he first slips into the hospital room, Yunho’s not in his bed and he nearly has a drunken panic attack. It takes a few seconds to notice the small sliver of white from the bathroom door; they’d pumped Yunho’s stomach but he was still feverish - and now here he was, the great Jung Yunho, a shaking mess with no one to help him as he pukes in the middle of the night.
And so Heechul lays a hand on his back, nails scratching a circle right between his shoulder blades. Yunho stiffens for only a second, and then turns - and it’s that stupid, stupid smile, effortlessly perfect. Heechul’s eyes water even as his throat tightens in anger.
Yunho chuckles, but it’s not the same. It’s hollow and sad and Heechul hates it. “Pathetic, huh?”
“Absolutely,” Heechul says. His hand slips underneath the slit of the hospital gown, tracing the bumps of Yunho’s spine - too sharp for his taste. “You fucking dumbass. How could you let this happen, huh? You fucking-” he cuts himself off before his voice cracks, or something horribly undignified like that.
“You’re drunk,” Yunho points out. Heechul nods stiffly and Yunho sighs, twisting so he’s sitting, supported back against cold tile. “Feel any better?”
“No,” Heechul breathes. “Why are you asking me? You’re the one who-”
He raises his eyes to the ceiling. Sterile white-wash is made even more pale by the fluorescent light, fading away the colors of the room. He stares into bright until he can’t take it, and when he closes his eyes afterimages float across the back of his eyelids - like stars, or spilled painkillers.
He wishes Yunho would be angry. Heechul is angry - he’s defensive and upset and tired of being that way.
“It’s okay,” Yunho says. “Sometimes it’s okay to let it go.”
But contrary to his words, his hand reaches for Heechul’s hand and holds on tighter than he thought he could. Heechul can’t help but give in, allowing this kindness. Just this once, he thinks - special circumstance.
“I still think you’re an idiot.”
When Yunho smiles, it’s for the both of them. “That’s okay, too.”
Fandom and Pairing: DBSK/Super Junior, Heechul/Yunho
Rating: pg.
Word Count: 1000.
Summary: If anger is the disease, kindness is the cure. Heechul's been taking his for granted for far too long.
Warnings: none.
When Heechul is twenty-three, he almost jumps off a building. He stands on the roof, alone with no shoes and no real reason to be there -but he doesn’t care. He’s drunk and out of sorts and his toes curl around the roof’s edge.
He imagines the jump. He’s going down, down, watching the lights streak by and the stars get further away and the sidewalk fall up to meet him. He can see the details of the concrete, water stains and spider-fine faults, and when he hits the ground he slips through one of those cracks, into dirt and darkness and nothing.
**
Yunho is one of the first people he meets when he joins SM, and he doesn’t even like him. He’d joined thinking he would be a big star -instantly, effortlessly. He certainly doesn’t expect to be the lowest notch on the rope, but that’s what he is. And here’s Yunho, this kid that’s younger yet more experienced, in charge of teaching him, Kim Heechul, how to dance, and has the audacity to grin like Heechul’s a five-year-old who’s still learning how to finger-paint.
It changes, ironically, when Yunho’s being so good it’s ridiculous. A bunch of trainees go out, and as the eldest Heechul makes it his duty to also be the drunkest. When he tries to stand he nearly falls over.
“Easy there,” someone steadies him. Heechul’s head spins. “You okay?”
“Dizzy’n I…” he lurches, the taste of beer and stomach-acid curling on his tongue. “Gonna-”
That someone half-carries him forward and Heechul barely notices, intent on keeping his stomach out of his throat. He ends up heaving into the gutter as a hand rubs his back. Nails scratch in circles and his eye close, the feeling sharp and welcome.
“Thanks,” he eventually says, only to lift his eyes and nearly get blinded by that annoyingly familiar grin.
“Fuck. Your teeth’re too white t’be normal, ’know that?”
Yunho laughs. “Feeling better?” he asks.
“You’ra freak,” Heechul says, wiping at his mouth.
The younger boy just keeps on smiling, eyes telling Heechul that he’s not going to fight. Fuck, even his eyes are too perfect to be normal. “Let’s get back, okay?”
Heechul is nineteen and one day, he’s going to be a big star. Today, he thinks he’s going to give in and actually like this guy.
**
Though, it’s not like he ever had any intention of being nice about it. He takes delight in mocking Yunho, from his slight accent to his goofy-gentle manner. “Who would make you a star? You’ve got nothing on me,” he mocks.
“You’re gonna end up as some big-shot asshole,” he says when Yunho debuts before him, with his new, perfect, impossibly popular band. “Your tiny face will look dumb on such a big head.”
“What do they even see in you?” He says, when Yunho gets so popular he’s got no time for anyone, and Heechul feels old resentment settle under his skin.
He’s Heechul’s verbal punching bag - but, as always, Yunho just shakes it off, like nothing can bring him down.
**
“Someday,” Jay tells him, “you’re gonna regret being such an ass to him.”
“What?” Heechul says, barely paying attention. “No I’m not, don’t say stupid things.”
“Just you watch,” Jay warns, barely being serious. “Something awful is going to happen and you’re going to be sorry.”
**
Something awful happens.
He finds out through their manager and when he does, he goes batshit. He screams in the dorms, rants on cyworld, and dreams of wringing that girls’ neck, hands twitching in his sleep.
He is Kim Heechul and now, he is a big star. Today, his best friend was hurt, was poisoned, and he’s completely helpless.
**
That night on the roof, he doesn’t jump. He takes a deep breath, steps away from the edge and goes down to catch a cab to the hospital.
**
When he first slips into the hospital room, Yunho’s not in his bed and he nearly has a drunken panic attack. It takes a few seconds to notice the small sliver of white from the bathroom door; they’d pumped Yunho’s stomach but he was still feverish - and now here he was, the great Jung Yunho, a shaking mess with no one to help him as he pukes in the middle of the night.
And so Heechul lays a hand on his back, nails scratching a circle right between his shoulder blades. Yunho stiffens for only a second, and then turns - and it’s that stupid, stupid smile, effortlessly perfect. Heechul’s eyes water even as his throat tightens in anger.
Yunho chuckles, but it’s not the same. It’s hollow and sad and Heechul hates it. “Pathetic, huh?”
“Absolutely,” Heechul says. His hand slips underneath the slit of the hospital gown, tracing the bumps of Yunho’s spine - too sharp for his taste. “You fucking dumbass. How could you let this happen, huh? You fucking-” he cuts himself off before his voice cracks, or something horribly undignified like that.
“You’re drunk,” Yunho points out. Heechul nods stiffly and Yunho sighs, twisting so he’s sitting, supported back against cold tile. “Feel any better?”
“No,” Heechul breathes. “Why are you asking me? You’re the one who-”
He raises his eyes to the ceiling. Sterile white-wash is made even more pale by the fluorescent light, fading away the colors of the room. He stares into bright until he can’t take it, and when he closes his eyes afterimages float across the back of his eyelids - like stars, or spilled painkillers.
He wishes Yunho would be angry. Heechul is angry - he’s defensive and upset and tired of being that way.
“It’s okay,” Yunho says. “Sometimes it’s okay to let it go.”
But contrary to his words, his hand reaches for Heechul’s hand and holds on tighter than he thought he could. Heechul can’t help but give in, allowing this kindness. Just this once, he thinks - special circumstance.
“I still think you’re an idiot.”
When Yunho smiles, it’s for the both of them. “That’s okay, too.”