Ficlet Dump
Ficlets dump, various short little things I've written for various people while listening to my itunes \o/.
Title: I always meant to tell you you looked best in baggy clothes (I know that’s not usually how it goes)
Fandom: super junior
Rating: pg13
Pairing: kyuhyun/zhou mi
Summary: AU, domestic fluffy loving
“Hey,” Kyuhyun calls through the kitchen window, and Zhou Mi levitates three feet straight up in the air, screeching. “Nice,” Kyuhyun notes.
“Kui Xian you scared me,” Zhou Mi snaps, and glares.
“No really,” Kyuhyun continues, “very manly. Impressive even.”
“Go away,” Zhou Mi says, and flicks water through the screen at him, suds clinging to his fingers, “I’m doing the washing.”
“Well stop,” Kyuhyun grumbles, “I’m locked out, lemme in.”
“Where are your keys?” Zhou Mi asks Kyuhyun kicks his shoes off by the sofa and starts to dig through the piles of mail on the table.
“Oh interestingly enough,” Kyuhyun says, “I know exactly where they are. I just like to lock myself out and then dig through your piles of mess because it’s fun, and being late for work gives me that confidence boost that carries me through the rest of the day, and--” Kyuhyun turns to continue his tirade and pauses. He blinks.
“What?” Zhou Mi asks, and Kyuhyun licks his lips.
“You look...” he says, and Zhou Mi glances down. He’s still in his pajamas, teeth unbrushed, and one of his tank top straps is hanging loose and thready off his shoulder.
“I look gross,” he says bluntly, but smiles widely when Kyuhyun drops his work bag and tugs Zhou Mi closer, hands on his waist and trailing lower. “Oh Kui Xian,” he mocks, “you are a romantic.”
“Maybe I just don’t want to go to work,” Kyuhyun says, and snaps the elastic of Zhou Mi’s pajama bottoms before dipping a single finger below them and scraping his nail across the jut of Zhou Mi’s hipbones.
“Maybe I’m not in the mood,” Zhou Mi tries to say flippantly, but he knows his voice has gone low, and he can see Kyuhyun’s eyes darken a few shades as they follow the bob of Zhou Mi’s throat. Zhou Mi dips his head until he can kiss under Kyuhyun’s jaw.
Kissing Kyuhyun reminds Zhou Mi of striking a match, because there’s the slow increase of the drag until it ignites, and then Kyuhyun is pushing him up against the dining room table and Zhou Mi has his fingers tight in Kyuhyun’s hair, grown out just long enough that Zhou Mi is able to get a grip he uses to pull Kyuhyun up on his toes while he twists his tongue around Kyuhyun’s teeth.
“You’re too fucking tall,” Kyuhyun gasps, and bites at Zhou Mi’s collarbones.
Title: for the longest time
Fandom: super junior
Rating: pg
Pairing: heechul/donghae, hankyung
Summary: graduation AU
“I won’t be seen with with you wearing that,” Hankyung says flatly, and Heechul narrows his eyes.
“You should be honoured to be near me,” he says loftily, and twirls the small tube in his fingers. He pauses. Hankyung takes a large preemptive step back. “You knoww,” he drawls, and Hankyung’s eyes widen in instinctive fear.
“No,” he tries to say firmly, and his voice squeaks. Heechul smiles, and Hankyung eeps in fear.
“Hey!” Donghae shouts, bounding over to them and smiling widely. Hankyung takes the opportunity to flee to the crowd of parents and students, teachers and friends and family. “Congratulations hyung,” Donghae says, and presents what probably used to be candy lei, looping empty plastic wrappers tied together around Heechul’s neck. Heechul drops his stupid square hat on Donghae’s head and snaps a picture with his phone.
“Are you coming to the party later?” he asks, and Donghae droops a little.
“It’s only for grads,” he says unhappily, and Heechul rolls a shoulder carelessly.
“You can be my guest,” he says, and Donghae tilts his head up. Heechul can’t see his face that well because he’s not wearing his glasses --they didn’t go with the outfit he’s wearing under his robes--and Donghae is backlit by the sun, glare obscuring his features. He smells like fresh cut grass, and Heechul remembers when they used to run in the park by his old house and eat watermelon on the front porch, leaning over the railing and dripping juice into the flower beds..
“I’ll miss you, hyung,” Donghae says quietly, and Heechul hesitates. He dips his head suddenly and presses a light affectionate kiss to the curve of Donghae’s ear.
“I’ll be back,” he says, and pulls Donghae over to where Hankyung is trying to hide behind Eeteuk’s car, uncapping the eyeliner and grinning as Donghae moves to hold Hankyung’s arms back.
Title: I will keep the bad things from you
Fandom: super junior
Rating: pg
Pairing: sungmin/ryeowook, hankyung/heechul
Summary: This fits into my hanchul bbyverse. Sungmin and Ryeowook babysit.
“Hey,” Heechul says, opening the door to them and smiling, and Sungmin thinks fatherhood has been kind to him. He looks easier, more relaxed, and Mei-Ha slung on his hip is natural and comfortable, he turns to shut the door easily behind them with one hand, jostling her slightly to make her laugh and giggle. Hankyung comes down the stairs looking faintly harassed, bowtie knotted loosely around his neck and tucking his shirt into his belt, vest flapping undone. Heechul is wearing what looks to Sungmin like a couple of llamas that died a horrible death in a vat of tie-dye, but he knows better than to say anything. He looks around their apartment instead.
It’s cluttered in that lived in way that gives it soft edges, homey without being cramped or chaotic. There’s a script on the kitchen table, and a scarf on the back of the sofa, a clean bib folded in the highchair and a crayon scribble on the fridge held up by the same magnet Sungmin got from Donghae on his trip last year, next to a card wishing Heechul a happy birthday from Yunho and a picture of Shindong’s son. Sungmin feels Ryeowook’s hand ghost over the small of his back and trail over his ribs as Ryeowook slides past him to take Mei-Ha from Heechul, smiling.
Sungmin thinks he looks like a natural as he swings Mei-Ha around in a big circle, her soft hair falling into her eyes as he shakes his bangs aside to look at her properly. Ryeowook is the kind of person that makes faces and plays peekaboo with the babies on buses and in lines, who goes out of his way to hold the door open for a stroller and coo in the park. Sungmin is the kind that looks sideways at them, terrified at the possibility of crying. He shakes Hankyung’s hand, nods at the list of emergency numbers and talks quietly with Heechul about upcoming schedules and release dates as Hankyung trips across the room looking for his shoes. Heechul grins at him, blows a kiss to his daughter, and they leave, chattering lightly about the award ceremony. Sungmin can hear Heechul’s mocking and Hankyung’s long suffering replies as they get into their car, and waves at them as they leave the driveway.
“I still don’t understand why I had to come,” he mutters, turning to sit on the couch, leaning stiffly away from the baby. Ryeowook hums lightly and tickles her feet.
“You’re keeping me company, yes you are,” he coos in babytalk, and Sungmin frowns.
“You’re supposed to talk to them properly,” he says, reaching over hesitantly to trace his finger down her face. “it’s how they learn.” She turns big brown eyes on him and blows a spit bubble, and he snatches his hand away before it can become contaminated. Ryeowook laughs at him, and reaches for the remote.
“They’ll only be gone a short while, hyung,” he says absently, “we just have to feed her, burp her, change her and put her to sleep.” Sungmin has a sudden flash of projectile vomiting, leaky diapers and mushy peas everywhere, and he blanches. Ryeowook laughs at him again, and starts singing to the baby. Sungmin watches him, quietly soothed they way he always is when Ryeowook sings. Clearly Ryeowook was lulling him into a safe sense of security because the next thing he knows a baby has been deposited in his lap.
“jhfd noo,” he says, and tries to hand her back, “take it back what if I break it.” Ryeowook rolls his eyes.
“I have to use the bathroom,” he says, and skips off, humming. Sungmin tries to remember the way Ryeowook was holding her earlier, and settles her into his lap. She looks drowsy, and Sungmin brushes her hair out of her face and behind her ears. As he draws his hand back she reaches out and grabs his finger, and the smallness of her nails on his knuckle mesmerizes him.
“Oh,” he says, and is struck by all the ways she is vulnerable to the world. She turns her head into his chest and drools on his shirt, letting go of his finger to suck on her thumb. She smells like baby, powder and footsie pajamas, tiny and warm.
There’s a prickle on the back of his neck, right before lips brush across his temple and drag down to under his ear.
“You’re a natural,” Ryeowook says.
Title: eleanor rigby
Fandom: super junior
Rating: pg13
Pairing: hankyung/heechul
Summary: Remix of umberela’s fic Cyanide, which can be found at her comm along with many other amazing things :D. Set post Heechul’s accident.
The pulsing music pounds through Hankyung the moment he enters the club, assaulting his senses, jarring his bones, twisting into his chest and changing the rhythm of his heart.
As soon as they hit the dance floor Donghae slips away from his side, moving to join the crowd, grinding to fast beats and panting breaths. Siwon is immediately accosted by girls, and Hankyung can see the white of his smile as he declines, brilliantly glowing teeth under the ultraviolet lights. He loses track of Siwon in the fog coming from underneath the stage, thick white vapour that turns the air solid and the lights smoky, the colours swirling like a kaleidoscope, bright and glittering and twisting into each other.
It’s disorienting, and Hankyung stumbles slightly as he turns to scan the room, the flashing strobes messing up his spacial reasoning. It makes the dancers look like distorting statues, gargoyles that move when you blink, and it hurts his eyes as he strains to find one particular person.
Heechul is at the center of everything, or maybe Heechul is the center of everything, dark eyes and cold smile, lithe body and hair like fire. Hankyung moves towards him, sliding between sinuous limbs and around rolling hips and stands still before Heechul. The right combination of light and angles strike his belt buckle like a prism, and Hankyung sees flashes and pricks of colour reflected in Heechul’s eyes.
He steps forward and rests his hands on Heechul’s hips, stilling him, and bends to talk into Heechul’s ear, close and loud against the blaring of the music. You should be resting, he says, and pulls at Heechul’s elbow. Heechul allows himself to be led off the dance floor, but takes a sharp right, surprising Hankyung enough to drag him into a carpeted alcove at the back, where a pay phone used to be.
I almost died, Heechul murmurs, whispers suddenly loud in the muted booth, and pushes his face into Hankyung’s neck, teeth bared. Hankyung’s breath hitches and his pants tighten, even as his brain goes coping mechanism, pulling information from long afternoons curled on the couch, procedurals and reality shows and news programs on the television while he waits for a stamp in his passport. Heechul’s hands slide down his chest, slower and faster to the beat of the bass line.
Do you love me, Heechul chokes, and Hankyung nods, tightens his hands on Heechul’s waist as fingers slip across his hipbones like a paintbrush, fleeting but staining with every touch. I do, he breathes, and Heechul’s body spasms once, like a string snapping, slumps farther into Hankyung. Do you want me, he begs, and Hankyung closes his eyes against the feeling of Heechul’s heart in his hands. You could have died, he echoes, and kisses Heechul once, very softly, an apology in pressure and dry lips.
Title: skin breathing summer sunshine
Fandom: super junior
Rating: pg
Pairing: siwon/heechul friendship
Summary: shihanchul as kids AU
There is a moving van across the street when Heechul knocks at Siwon’s door after school, and after he smiles sweetly at Siwon’s mom and eats Siwon’s cookies and wiggles out of Siwon’s cuddles he drags him across the living room to the front windows and they peer out of the blinds, up on their tiptoes with fingers holding the slats open.
“Mom brought them a welcome basket from the neighbourhood yesterday,” Siwon says, “she says they have a little boy I could play with.”
“I don’t see anyone,” Heechul says doubtfully, “plus you have me already, what else could you want?”
“Only you, hyung,” Siwon says cheerfully, and is unphased by Heechul’s smack, “Oh oh oh, look look. There he is.” They strain to get a better look, and see a boy around their age, sitting quietly on the curb and kicking at rocks with the toes of scuffed sneakers while moving men wheel dollies around him.
“Mom says they moved from far away,” Siwon says, “he looks so sad.”
“He looks retarded,” Heechul scoffs. “Come on, I want to watch cartoons.”
Title: hey jealousy
Fandom: super junior
Rating: pg13
Pairing: sungmin/ryeowook
Summary: Ryeowook is jealous of Sungmin, sort of, and Yesung knows all.
Ryeowook is scheduled to appear on Sungmin’s radio show, and they are told to perform a song. Ryeowook doesn’t mind performing because Ryeowook is not bothered by singing. Even before they debuted when their hands shook and their minds froze and the screaming from the crowd drowned out their own voices from themselves, singing is always something that has blocked out all else from him. Ryeowook isn’t good at math or writing or sciences, but musical notes are easier for him to read than hanguel, arranging comes as naturally to him as sleeping, he slips into that headspace and he sings and then he throws up in a backstage bathroom because jesus fucking christ, they just debuted, they’ve made it.
Sungmin has an easy confidence Ryeowook envies. Sungmin can dance to sliding tango music and spin in kicks and forms and twirl weapons and toss pizza dough and make girls disappear onstage and play the guitar and host a radio show and dye his hair cotton candy pink and never feel frazzled. And Sungmin’s English is much better than Ryeowook’s; Ryeowook trips and stumbles, tongue heavy on his teeth as he struggles to form foreign sounds.
They meet once to go over who will sing what when and run through it a few times, but it’s just a radio broadcast and they’re both good enough to wing it. And it’s surprising when Sungmin stumbles, stutters and mutters before starting again, and Ryeowook can’t help the flash of triumph that flares in his eyes after the brief surprise, that he has bested Sungmin, his elder, one of the shadows Ryeowook stands in. After a moment he feels awful about it, they’re on the same side, the same team, and he has more confidence in himself and his abilities than to sink so low and be so petty. And he holds the last note and looks over at Sungmin, a long look of apology and Sungmin looks back, puzzled.
It frustrates Ryeowook that Sungmin doesn’t even understand what just happened, doesn’t even know Ryeowook well enough to realize the significance of the past three and a half minutes. He’d always thought they were close, not close like Jongwoon or close like Kyuhyun, but close. Close-ish, perhaps.
“I have to make it up to him,” Ryeowook says, and Jongwoon murmurs absently, eyes sharp on Ryeowook’s face and Ryeowook’s gaze slides to the side, lowered lashes, head tilted so his bangs fall across his expression. Jongwoon smiles, and hums a snatch of song under his breath, a refrain from the schoolyard, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. Ryeowook blushes and turns away to the sounds of low chuckles and a friendly arm on his shoulders.
Title: sinning my way into your heart
Fandom: super junior
Rating: pg
Pairing: eunhyuk/siwon
Summary: Eunhyuk stalks Siwon, sort of.
A/N I wrote this for a meme and there’s a second part somewhere that I actually think is better but... I can’t find it >.>.
“I’m pretty sure,” Heechul announces calmly one morning at breakfast, “that stalking inside a church is some kind of double-sin.”
Siwon looks puzzled. Kibum looks indifferent. Donghae laughs and then looks confused, wondering what the joke is. Eunhyuk chokes violently on a mouthful of food and sprays little bits of eggs and toast across the table.
“Aish, put this in your mouth,” complains Hankyung, shoving a dish of food at Heechul, “so noisy so early.”
“What are you talking about?” asks Siwon curiously, “Do you want to go to church with me, hyung?”
“Do I fucking look like I want to go to church with you?” Heechul scoffs around his chopsticks. His eyes slide over to Eunhyuk and he smirks, still managing to look evil with rice hanging out his mouth. Eunhyuk concentrates on dabbing the napkin against Kangin’s face, hopes the mess will be gone before Kangin wakes up enough to realize Eunhyuk spit all over him.
Eunhyuk thinks it’s okay that Heechul knows, because somehow Heechul knows everything that goes on, and Eunhyuk has been very careful to be calm, silent, swift. He is a fucking ninja, okay. He dresses in all black and wears a hat and dorky glasses he stole from Yesung and skulks behind Siwon all the way to church. He could just go straight to the church but he likes the way Siwon’s step is lighter when he walks in the church, the way the tension bleeds out of his muscles and into varnished wooden pews, the way peace runs up from the hymm book, impossibly thin pages with faded ink, slides into his fingertips and makes it way to his face.
Siwon’s face is never more relaxed and gentle then it is at church. Eunhyuk loves the way Siwon loves his religion, and it helps him keep still and not wiggle during the sermon. He believes in God, but it’s hard for him to keep still. But he wants to see what Siwon sees in these weekly excursions, so he calms himself and he closes his eyes and he murmurs along softly, his testament to his faith, faded but never forgotten.
Eunhyuk waits, turned sideways and head bowed, waits for Siwon to leave. He mentally pats himself on the back, watches Siwon leaves the church and turn the corner, stands up with a smirk.
“Hey hyung,” says Kyuhyun casually, standing right behind him. “Yesung says he wants his glasses back.”
Title: silly love songs
Fandom: super junior
Rating: pg
Pairing: kyuhyun/zhou mi
Summary: Qmi Office AU, Kyuhyun needs to relax a little.
Zhou Mi sorts the M&Ms by colour in a dish, a gently curving saucer of blue handblown glass with flecks of purple and pink. Blue for Mondays and Wednesdays, yellow for Tuesdays, green on Thursdays, and peanut butter red for Fridays. Kyuhyun sometimes wonders from his desk when Zhou Mi sorts them out and where he keeps the extras, but Zhou Mi is the first one in the office everyday and honestly, it’s more of an idle curiosity than an actual need to know.
Kyuhyun wakes up at seven like he always does, and leaves by seven twenty-five to walk just outside to the bus that comes at seven thirty and arrives two blocks from the office at seven forty-five. He walks to building and is in the elevator by seven fifty-two, at his desk at seven fifty five.
“Okay!” Eeteuk says sunnily at exactly eight am like he always does, “Let’ sell paper!” He makes a flourishing movement with his hands and nearly smacks Siwon in the face like he always does. “Oops, sorry Siwonnie,” he says brightly, and trots to his office door, where he rattles the doorknob for a second and shoves his hand behind his ear sheepishly. “Ah, Zhou Mi, could you call…”
“Sure hyung,” Zhou Mi trills, and picks up the phone. Kyuhyun rolls his eyes, and turns back to his computer, picks up his headset.
“Ah, our Kyuhyun-ah, the maknae,” Eeteuk says, smiling his wide public smile. From customer service over to the left Kyuhyun can see Ryeowook narrow his eyes.
“Kibum is on his way,” Zhou Mi chirps, and goes back to typing on his keyboard, quick flicks of long fingers. Kyuhyun turns his attention back to his own work and doesn’t look up again until lunch.
Kyuhyun eats bimbap on Mondays and Wednesdays, stir fried noodles Tuesdays and Thursdays, and curried fish and vegetables over rice on Fridays, in the third chair from the left against the wall at the southwest corner table in the break room, from twelve-oh-two to twelve twenty-three. At three thirty he takes a fifteen minute break outside the building on the wooden bench under the shade of three trees while he drinks tea and listens to his mp3 player. At exactly five he packs his things and leaves, nodding politely to his coworkers, and catches the five-oh-six bus home. He eats dinner at seven and is in bed by eleven.
Kyuhyun wakes up with one side of his face warmer than the other from the splash of sun his bedroom window spills over his pillow, and yawns, stretching against the mattress. He rolls his neck, enjoying the crackle of pops it yields, and brings his wrist up lazily to check his watch. Then he blinks, and shakes his wrist out desperately. Then he shrieks a little, and flings himself out of bed.
“Oh my god,” he says, “ohmygodohmygodohmygod.” He stumbles to the bathroom and splashes his face and hair with water, fumbling for clothes that aren’t too wrinkled or dirty. He shoves one leg into the first pair of pants he can get his hands on and hops for the kitchen counter where his keys and wallet are tossed on top of his messenger bag. His toe catches in the leg of the pants and he staggers into the wall, smacking his face sharply into the doorframe.
Kyuhyun sprints up the stairs to their floor, wheezing from his dash from the bus stop, and slams through the door into the office. There’s a slight pause in the general noise of people working as they stop and stare at him, and Kyuhyun draws himself up the best he can, smoothing his hair with sweaty fingers.
“Hi,” he says calmly, and fusses with the straps on his bag as he starts to walk to his desk. Eeteuk pats him on the head and tells him to set an extra alarm from now on, and Kyuhyun thinks all in all it could have gone worse.
At twelve-oh-one Kyuhyun reaches into his desk to grab his lunch and frowns as his fingers only find extra pencils and a broken calculator. Then he realizes that his lunch is sitting in his fridge in his apartment, forgotten in his rush. He thumps his head on the desk a few times, and hears Siwon scoots his chair a little farther away.
At twelve twenty his stomach rumbles, and he slumps further into his chair before levering himself up and slouching towards the front desk, with a vague idea of asking Zhou Mi for mercy and one of the bags of M&Ms he must have hidden away in his desk or car or somewhere.
“Hey,” he says, and Zhou Mi looks up at him, flicking his head to get his bangs out of his face.
“Kui Xian,” he says cheerfully, and Kyuhyun is momentarily distracted by the glittery sparkle on his lips, and for a second he can smell artificially scented peach gloss. Kyuhyun shakes his head.
“I, uh, I forgot my lunch today, so I was wondering if I could.” He gestures awkwardly to the candy dish next to the single lily Zhou Mi waters religiously once every two days.
“Ohhh,” Zhou Mi says, and looks appropriately sympathetic. “Oh!” he says, understanding dawning on his face, “oh yeah, of course.” He grabs the dish off the desk and passes it to Kyuhyun. “Here, all my refills are at home.” Kyuhyun opens his mouth to thank him and stops.
“There are brown.” he says, and frowns. “Brown.”
“Yes?” Zhou Mi says.
“It’s Thursday,” he says angrily, “Thursday.”
“Oh.” Zhou Mi says, blinking at him. “Um, sorry?” Kyuhyun glares at him, but takes the candy and turns to go back to his desk.
“Ah,” Zhou Mi says, “Kui Xian?” Kyuhyun rolls his eyes.
“What?” he snaps, and Zhou Mi draws back a little into his chair.
“Your shirt is inside out,” he says, and Kyuhyun looks down. “And backwards,” Zhou Mi adds, and Kyuhyun turns on his heel and walks out the door.
He’s sulking on the stone bench across from the recylcing dumpster in the back alley when long legs appear in his field of vision and Zhou Mi folds himself up to sit on the bench next to him.
“Hi,” Zhou Mi says, and his paper bag crinkles as he pulls out a plastic container and chopsticks. Kyuhyun sulks a little harder at the smell of meat and vegetables that wafts out as Zhou Mi pops the lid. “Here,” Zhou Mi says, and offers Kyuhyun a plastic ziplock bag with eight green M&Ms in it. Kyuhyun looks up.
“You bought this from the vending machine and sorted these out,” he says, suddenly sure that’s what happened. Zhou Mi grins at him, a little shy, and Kyuhyun thinks he’s one of those people that looks boring until they smile.
“It’s Thursday,” Zhou Mi says, and Kyuhyun smiles at him. “Do you want to share my lunch?” He offers, and Kyuhyun turns to straddle the bench so they can sit face to face.
“Yeah,” he says, and doesn’t check his watch, “okay.”
“You know your eye is bruising,” Zhou Mi says, and Kyuhyun laughs, reaching in Zhou Mi’s crinkly brown paper bag for a carrot stick.
“Let’s go out,” Kyuhyun says suddenly, “I’ll buy you dinner. A thank you.” Zhou Mi smiles again, and Kyuhyun has that fleeting thought again, lets himself enjoy the way Zhou Mi’s smile dominates his face.
“Yeah,” Zhou Mi says, eyes down as he pokes at a dumpling, “I’d like that.”
Title: I always meant to tell you you looked best in baggy clothes (I know that’s not usually how it goes)
Fandom: super junior
Rating: pg13
Pairing: kyuhyun/zhou mi
Summary: AU, domestic fluffy loving
“Hey,” Kyuhyun calls through the kitchen window, and Zhou Mi levitates three feet straight up in the air, screeching. “Nice,” Kyuhyun notes.
“Kui Xian you scared me,” Zhou Mi snaps, and glares.
“No really,” Kyuhyun continues, “very manly. Impressive even.”
“Go away,” Zhou Mi says, and flicks water through the screen at him, suds clinging to his fingers, “I’m doing the washing.”
“Well stop,” Kyuhyun grumbles, “I’m locked out, lemme in.”
“Where are your keys?” Zhou Mi asks Kyuhyun kicks his shoes off by the sofa and starts to dig through the piles of mail on the table.
“Oh interestingly enough,” Kyuhyun says, “I know exactly where they are. I just like to lock myself out and then dig through your piles of mess because it’s fun, and being late for work gives me that confidence boost that carries me through the rest of the day, and--” Kyuhyun turns to continue his tirade and pauses. He blinks.
“What?” Zhou Mi asks, and Kyuhyun licks his lips.
“You look...” he says, and Zhou Mi glances down. He’s still in his pajamas, teeth unbrushed, and one of his tank top straps is hanging loose and thready off his shoulder.
“I look gross,” he says bluntly, but smiles widely when Kyuhyun drops his work bag and tugs Zhou Mi closer, hands on his waist and trailing lower. “Oh Kui Xian,” he mocks, “you are a romantic.”
“Maybe I just don’t want to go to work,” Kyuhyun says, and snaps the elastic of Zhou Mi’s pajama bottoms before dipping a single finger below them and scraping his nail across the jut of Zhou Mi’s hipbones.
“Maybe I’m not in the mood,” Zhou Mi tries to say flippantly, but he knows his voice has gone low, and he can see Kyuhyun’s eyes darken a few shades as they follow the bob of Zhou Mi’s throat. Zhou Mi dips his head until he can kiss under Kyuhyun’s jaw.
Kissing Kyuhyun reminds Zhou Mi of striking a match, because there’s the slow increase of the drag until it ignites, and then Kyuhyun is pushing him up against the dining room table and Zhou Mi has his fingers tight in Kyuhyun’s hair, grown out just long enough that Zhou Mi is able to get a grip he uses to pull Kyuhyun up on his toes while he twists his tongue around Kyuhyun’s teeth.
“You’re too fucking tall,” Kyuhyun gasps, and bites at Zhou Mi’s collarbones.
Title: for the longest time
Fandom: super junior
Rating: pg
Pairing: heechul/donghae, hankyung
Summary: graduation AU
“I won’t be seen with with you wearing that,” Hankyung says flatly, and Heechul narrows his eyes.
“You should be honoured to be near me,” he says loftily, and twirls the small tube in his fingers. He pauses. Hankyung takes a large preemptive step back. “You knoww,” he drawls, and Hankyung’s eyes widen in instinctive fear.
“No,” he tries to say firmly, and his voice squeaks. Heechul smiles, and Hankyung eeps in fear.
“Hey!” Donghae shouts, bounding over to them and smiling widely. Hankyung takes the opportunity to flee to the crowd of parents and students, teachers and friends and family. “Congratulations hyung,” Donghae says, and presents what probably used to be candy lei, looping empty plastic wrappers tied together around Heechul’s neck. Heechul drops his stupid square hat on Donghae’s head and snaps a picture with his phone.
“Are you coming to the party later?” he asks, and Donghae droops a little.
“It’s only for grads,” he says unhappily, and Heechul rolls a shoulder carelessly.
“You can be my guest,” he says, and Donghae tilts his head up. Heechul can’t see his face that well because he’s not wearing his glasses --they didn’t go with the outfit he’s wearing under his robes--and Donghae is backlit by the sun, glare obscuring his features. He smells like fresh cut grass, and Heechul remembers when they used to run in the park by his old house and eat watermelon on the front porch, leaning over the railing and dripping juice into the flower beds..
“I’ll miss you, hyung,” Donghae says quietly, and Heechul hesitates. He dips his head suddenly and presses a light affectionate kiss to the curve of Donghae’s ear.
“I’ll be back,” he says, and pulls Donghae over to where Hankyung is trying to hide behind Eeteuk’s car, uncapping the eyeliner and grinning as Donghae moves to hold Hankyung’s arms back.
Title: I will keep the bad things from you
Fandom: super junior
Rating: pg
Pairing: sungmin/ryeowook, hankyung/heechul
Summary: This fits into my hanchul bbyverse. Sungmin and Ryeowook babysit.
“Hey,” Heechul says, opening the door to them and smiling, and Sungmin thinks fatherhood has been kind to him. He looks easier, more relaxed, and Mei-Ha slung on his hip is natural and comfortable, he turns to shut the door easily behind them with one hand, jostling her slightly to make her laugh and giggle. Hankyung comes down the stairs looking faintly harassed, bowtie knotted loosely around his neck and tucking his shirt into his belt, vest flapping undone. Heechul is wearing what looks to Sungmin like a couple of llamas that died a horrible death in a vat of tie-dye, but he knows better than to say anything. He looks around their apartment instead.
It’s cluttered in that lived in way that gives it soft edges, homey without being cramped or chaotic. There’s a script on the kitchen table, and a scarf on the back of the sofa, a clean bib folded in the highchair and a crayon scribble on the fridge held up by the same magnet Sungmin got from Donghae on his trip last year, next to a card wishing Heechul a happy birthday from Yunho and a picture of Shindong’s son. Sungmin feels Ryeowook’s hand ghost over the small of his back and trail over his ribs as Ryeowook slides past him to take Mei-Ha from Heechul, smiling.
Sungmin thinks he looks like a natural as he swings Mei-Ha around in a big circle, her soft hair falling into her eyes as he shakes his bangs aside to look at her properly. Ryeowook is the kind of person that makes faces and plays peekaboo with the babies on buses and in lines, who goes out of his way to hold the door open for a stroller and coo in the park. Sungmin is the kind that looks sideways at them, terrified at the possibility of crying. He shakes Hankyung’s hand, nods at the list of emergency numbers and talks quietly with Heechul about upcoming schedules and release dates as Hankyung trips across the room looking for his shoes. Heechul grins at him, blows a kiss to his daughter, and they leave, chattering lightly about the award ceremony. Sungmin can hear Heechul’s mocking and Hankyung’s long suffering replies as they get into their car, and waves at them as they leave the driveway.
“I still don’t understand why I had to come,” he mutters, turning to sit on the couch, leaning stiffly away from the baby. Ryeowook hums lightly and tickles her feet.
“You’re keeping me company, yes you are,” he coos in babytalk, and Sungmin frowns.
“You’re supposed to talk to them properly,” he says, reaching over hesitantly to trace his finger down her face. “it’s how they learn.” She turns big brown eyes on him and blows a spit bubble, and he snatches his hand away before it can become contaminated. Ryeowook laughs at him, and reaches for the remote.
“They’ll only be gone a short while, hyung,” he says absently, “we just have to feed her, burp her, change her and put her to sleep.” Sungmin has a sudden flash of projectile vomiting, leaky diapers and mushy peas everywhere, and he blanches. Ryeowook laughs at him again, and starts singing to the baby. Sungmin watches him, quietly soothed they way he always is when Ryeowook sings. Clearly Ryeowook was lulling him into a safe sense of security because the next thing he knows a baby has been deposited in his lap.
“jhfd noo,” he says, and tries to hand her back, “take it back what if I break it.” Ryeowook rolls his eyes.
“I have to use the bathroom,” he says, and skips off, humming. Sungmin tries to remember the way Ryeowook was holding her earlier, and settles her into his lap. She looks drowsy, and Sungmin brushes her hair out of her face and behind her ears. As he draws his hand back she reaches out and grabs his finger, and the smallness of her nails on his knuckle mesmerizes him.
“Oh,” he says, and is struck by all the ways she is vulnerable to the world. She turns her head into his chest and drools on his shirt, letting go of his finger to suck on her thumb. She smells like baby, powder and footsie pajamas, tiny and warm.
There’s a prickle on the back of his neck, right before lips brush across his temple and drag down to under his ear.
“You’re a natural,” Ryeowook says.
Title: eleanor rigby
Fandom: super junior
Rating: pg13
Pairing: hankyung/heechul
Summary: Remix of umberela’s fic Cyanide, which can be found at her comm along with many other amazing things :D. Set post Heechul’s accident.
The pulsing music pounds through Hankyung the moment he enters the club, assaulting his senses, jarring his bones, twisting into his chest and changing the rhythm of his heart.
As soon as they hit the dance floor Donghae slips away from his side, moving to join the crowd, grinding to fast beats and panting breaths. Siwon is immediately accosted by girls, and Hankyung can see the white of his smile as he declines, brilliantly glowing teeth under the ultraviolet lights. He loses track of Siwon in the fog coming from underneath the stage, thick white vapour that turns the air solid and the lights smoky, the colours swirling like a kaleidoscope, bright and glittering and twisting into each other.
It’s disorienting, and Hankyung stumbles slightly as he turns to scan the room, the flashing strobes messing up his spacial reasoning. It makes the dancers look like distorting statues, gargoyles that move when you blink, and it hurts his eyes as he strains to find one particular person.
Heechul is at the center of everything, or maybe Heechul is the center of everything, dark eyes and cold smile, lithe body and hair like fire. Hankyung moves towards him, sliding between sinuous limbs and around rolling hips and stands still before Heechul. The right combination of light and angles strike his belt buckle like a prism, and Hankyung sees flashes and pricks of colour reflected in Heechul’s eyes.
He steps forward and rests his hands on Heechul’s hips, stilling him, and bends to talk into Heechul’s ear, close and loud against the blaring of the music. You should be resting, he says, and pulls at Heechul’s elbow. Heechul allows himself to be led off the dance floor, but takes a sharp right, surprising Hankyung enough to drag him into a carpeted alcove at the back, where a pay phone used to be.
I almost died, Heechul murmurs, whispers suddenly loud in the muted booth, and pushes his face into Hankyung’s neck, teeth bared. Hankyung’s breath hitches and his pants tighten, even as his brain goes coping mechanism, pulling information from long afternoons curled on the couch, procedurals and reality shows and news programs on the television while he waits for a stamp in his passport. Heechul’s hands slide down his chest, slower and faster to the beat of the bass line.
Do you love me, Heechul chokes, and Hankyung nods, tightens his hands on Heechul’s waist as fingers slip across his hipbones like a paintbrush, fleeting but staining with every touch. I do, he breathes, and Heechul’s body spasms once, like a string snapping, slumps farther into Hankyung. Do you want me, he begs, and Hankyung closes his eyes against the feeling of Heechul’s heart in his hands. You could have died, he echoes, and kisses Heechul once, very softly, an apology in pressure and dry lips.
Title: skin breathing summer sunshine
Fandom: super junior
Rating: pg
Pairing: siwon/heechul friendship
Summary: shihanchul as kids AU
There is a moving van across the street when Heechul knocks at Siwon’s door after school, and after he smiles sweetly at Siwon’s mom and eats Siwon’s cookies and wiggles out of Siwon’s cuddles he drags him across the living room to the front windows and they peer out of the blinds, up on their tiptoes with fingers holding the slats open.
“Mom brought them a welcome basket from the neighbourhood yesterday,” Siwon says, “she says they have a little boy I could play with.”
“I don’t see anyone,” Heechul says doubtfully, “plus you have me already, what else could you want?”
“Only you, hyung,” Siwon says cheerfully, and is unphased by Heechul’s smack, “Oh oh oh, look look. There he is.” They strain to get a better look, and see a boy around their age, sitting quietly on the curb and kicking at rocks with the toes of scuffed sneakers while moving men wheel dollies around him.
“Mom says they moved from far away,” Siwon says, “he looks so sad.”
“He looks retarded,” Heechul scoffs. “Come on, I want to watch cartoons.”
Title: hey jealousy
Fandom: super junior
Rating: pg13
Pairing: sungmin/ryeowook
Summary: Ryeowook is jealous of Sungmin, sort of, and Yesung knows all.
Ryeowook is scheduled to appear on Sungmin’s radio show, and they are told to perform a song. Ryeowook doesn’t mind performing because Ryeowook is not bothered by singing. Even before they debuted when their hands shook and their minds froze and the screaming from the crowd drowned out their own voices from themselves, singing is always something that has blocked out all else from him. Ryeowook isn’t good at math or writing or sciences, but musical notes are easier for him to read than hanguel, arranging comes as naturally to him as sleeping, he slips into that headspace and he sings and then he throws up in a backstage bathroom because jesus fucking christ, they just debuted, they’ve made it.
Sungmin has an easy confidence Ryeowook envies. Sungmin can dance to sliding tango music and spin in kicks and forms and twirl weapons and toss pizza dough and make girls disappear onstage and play the guitar and host a radio show and dye his hair cotton candy pink and never feel frazzled. And Sungmin’s English is much better than Ryeowook’s; Ryeowook trips and stumbles, tongue heavy on his teeth as he struggles to form foreign sounds.
They meet once to go over who will sing what when and run through it a few times, but it’s just a radio broadcast and they’re both good enough to wing it. And it’s surprising when Sungmin stumbles, stutters and mutters before starting again, and Ryeowook can’t help the flash of triumph that flares in his eyes after the brief surprise, that he has bested Sungmin, his elder, one of the shadows Ryeowook stands in. After a moment he feels awful about it, they’re on the same side, the same team, and he has more confidence in himself and his abilities than to sink so low and be so petty. And he holds the last note and looks over at Sungmin, a long look of apology and Sungmin looks back, puzzled.
It frustrates Ryeowook that Sungmin doesn’t even understand what just happened, doesn’t even know Ryeowook well enough to realize the significance of the past three and a half minutes. He’d always thought they were close, not close like Jongwoon or close like Kyuhyun, but close. Close-ish, perhaps.
“I have to make it up to him,” Ryeowook says, and Jongwoon murmurs absently, eyes sharp on Ryeowook’s face and Ryeowook’s gaze slides to the side, lowered lashes, head tilted so his bangs fall across his expression. Jongwoon smiles, and hums a snatch of song under his breath, a refrain from the schoolyard, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. Ryeowook blushes and turns away to the sounds of low chuckles and a friendly arm on his shoulders.
Title: sinning my way into your heart
Fandom: super junior
Rating: pg
Pairing: eunhyuk/siwon
Summary: Eunhyuk stalks Siwon, sort of.
A/N I wrote this for a meme and there’s a second part somewhere that I actually think is better but... I can’t find it >.>.
“I’m pretty sure,” Heechul announces calmly one morning at breakfast, “that stalking inside a church is some kind of double-sin.”
Siwon looks puzzled. Kibum looks indifferent. Donghae laughs and then looks confused, wondering what the joke is. Eunhyuk chokes violently on a mouthful of food and sprays little bits of eggs and toast across the table.
“Aish, put this in your mouth,” complains Hankyung, shoving a dish of food at Heechul, “so noisy so early.”
“What are you talking about?” asks Siwon curiously, “Do you want to go to church with me, hyung?”
“Do I fucking look like I want to go to church with you?” Heechul scoffs around his chopsticks. His eyes slide over to Eunhyuk and he smirks, still managing to look evil with rice hanging out his mouth. Eunhyuk concentrates on dabbing the napkin against Kangin’s face, hopes the mess will be gone before Kangin wakes up enough to realize Eunhyuk spit all over him.
Eunhyuk thinks it’s okay that Heechul knows, because somehow Heechul knows everything that goes on, and Eunhyuk has been very careful to be calm, silent, swift. He is a fucking ninja, okay. He dresses in all black and wears a hat and dorky glasses he stole from Yesung and skulks behind Siwon all the way to church. He could just go straight to the church but he likes the way Siwon’s step is lighter when he walks in the church, the way the tension bleeds out of his muscles and into varnished wooden pews, the way peace runs up from the hymm book, impossibly thin pages with faded ink, slides into his fingertips and makes it way to his face.
Siwon’s face is never more relaxed and gentle then it is at church. Eunhyuk loves the way Siwon loves his religion, and it helps him keep still and not wiggle during the sermon. He believes in God, but it’s hard for him to keep still. But he wants to see what Siwon sees in these weekly excursions, so he calms himself and he closes his eyes and he murmurs along softly, his testament to his faith, faded but never forgotten.
Eunhyuk waits, turned sideways and head bowed, waits for Siwon to leave. He mentally pats himself on the back, watches Siwon leaves the church and turn the corner, stands up with a smirk.
“Hey hyung,” says Kyuhyun casually, standing right behind him. “Yesung says he wants his glasses back.”
Title: silly love songs
Fandom: super junior
Rating: pg
Pairing: kyuhyun/zhou mi
Summary: Qmi Office AU, Kyuhyun needs to relax a little.
Zhou Mi sorts the M&Ms by colour in a dish, a gently curving saucer of blue handblown glass with flecks of purple and pink. Blue for Mondays and Wednesdays, yellow for Tuesdays, green on Thursdays, and peanut butter red for Fridays. Kyuhyun sometimes wonders from his desk when Zhou Mi sorts them out and where he keeps the extras, but Zhou Mi is the first one in the office everyday and honestly, it’s more of an idle curiosity than an actual need to know.
Kyuhyun wakes up at seven like he always does, and leaves by seven twenty-five to walk just outside to the bus that comes at seven thirty and arrives two blocks from the office at seven forty-five. He walks to building and is in the elevator by seven fifty-two, at his desk at seven fifty five.
“Okay!” Eeteuk says sunnily at exactly eight am like he always does, “Let’ sell paper!” He makes a flourishing movement with his hands and nearly smacks Siwon in the face like he always does. “Oops, sorry Siwonnie,” he says brightly, and trots to his office door, where he rattles the doorknob for a second and shoves his hand behind his ear sheepishly. “Ah, Zhou Mi, could you call…”
“Sure hyung,” Zhou Mi trills, and picks up the phone. Kyuhyun rolls his eyes, and turns back to his computer, picks up his headset.
“Ah, our Kyuhyun-ah, the maknae,” Eeteuk says, smiling his wide public smile. From customer service over to the left Kyuhyun can see Ryeowook narrow his eyes.
“Kibum is on his way,” Zhou Mi chirps, and goes back to typing on his keyboard, quick flicks of long fingers. Kyuhyun turns his attention back to his own work and doesn’t look up again until lunch.
Kyuhyun eats bimbap on Mondays and Wednesdays, stir fried noodles Tuesdays and Thursdays, and curried fish and vegetables over rice on Fridays, in the third chair from the left against the wall at the southwest corner table in the break room, from twelve-oh-two to twelve twenty-three. At three thirty he takes a fifteen minute break outside the building on the wooden bench under the shade of three trees while he drinks tea and listens to his mp3 player. At exactly five he packs his things and leaves, nodding politely to his coworkers, and catches the five-oh-six bus home. He eats dinner at seven and is in bed by eleven.
Kyuhyun wakes up with one side of his face warmer than the other from the splash of sun his bedroom window spills over his pillow, and yawns, stretching against the mattress. He rolls his neck, enjoying the crackle of pops it yields, and brings his wrist up lazily to check his watch. Then he blinks, and shakes his wrist out desperately. Then he shrieks a little, and flings himself out of bed.
“Oh my god,” he says, “ohmygodohmygodohmygod.” He stumbles to the bathroom and splashes his face and hair with water, fumbling for clothes that aren’t too wrinkled or dirty. He shoves one leg into the first pair of pants he can get his hands on and hops for the kitchen counter where his keys and wallet are tossed on top of his messenger bag. His toe catches in the leg of the pants and he staggers into the wall, smacking his face sharply into the doorframe.
Kyuhyun sprints up the stairs to their floor, wheezing from his dash from the bus stop, and slams through the door into the office. There’s a slight pause in the general noise of people working as they stop and stare at him, and Kyuhyun draws himself up the best he can, smoothing his hair with sweaty fingers.
“Hi,” he says calmly, and fusses with the straps on his bag as he starts to walk to his desk. Eeteuk pats him on the head and tells him to set an extra alarm from now on, and Kyuhyun thinks all in all it could have gone worse.
At twelve-oh-one Kyuhyun reaches into his desk to grab his lunch and frowns as his fingers only find extra pencils and a broken calculator. Then he realizes that his lunch is sitting in his fridge in his apartment, forgotten in his rush. He thumps his head on the desk a few times, and hears Siwon scoots his chair a little farther away.
At twelve twenty his stomach rumbles, and he slumps further into his chair before levering himself up and slouching towards the front desk, with a vague idea of asking Zhou Mi for mercy and one of the bags of M&Ms he must have hidden away in his desk or car or somewhere.
“Hey,” he says, and Zhou Mi looks up at him, flicking his head to get his bangs out of his face.
“Kui Xian,” he says cheerfully, and Kyuhyun is momentarily distracted by the glittery sparkle on his lips, and for a second he can smell artificially scented peach gloss. Kyuhyun shakes his head.
“I, uh, I forgot my lunch today, so I was wondering if I could.” He gestures awkwardly to the candy dish next to the single lily Zhou Mi waters religiously once every two days.
“Ohhh,” Zhou Mi says, and looks appropriately sympathetic. “Oh!” he says, understanding dawning on his face, “oh yeah, of course.” He grabs the dish off the desk and passes it to Kyuhyun. “Here, all my refills are at home.” Kyuhyun opens his mouth to thank him and stops.
“There are brown.” he says, and frowns. “Brown.”
“Yes?” Zhou Mi says.
“It’s Thursday,” he says angrily, “Thursday.”
“Oh.” Zhou Mi says, blinking at him. “Um, sorry?” Kyuhyun glares at him, but takes the candy and turns to go back to his desk.
“Ah,” Zhou Mi says, “Kui Xian?” Kyuhyun rolls his eyes.
“What?” he snaps, and Zhou Mi draws back a little into his chair.
“Your shirt is inside out,” he says, and Kyuhyun looks down. “And backwards,” Zhou Mi adds, and Kyuhyun turns on his heel and walks out the door.
He’s sulking on the stone bench across from the recylcing dumpster in the back alley when long legs appear in his field of vision and Zhou Mi folds himself up to sit on the bench next to him.
“Hi,” Zhou Mi says, and his paper bag crinkles as he pulls out a plastic container and chopsticks. Kyuhyun sulks a little harder at the smell of meat and vegetables that wafts out as Zhou Mi pops the lid. “Here,” Zhou Mi says, and offers Kyuhyun a plastic ziplock bag with eight green M&Ms in it. Kyuhyun looks up.
“You bought this from the vending machine and sorted these out,” he says, suddenly sure that’s what happened. Zhou Mi grins at him, a little shy, and Kyuhyun thinks he’s one of those people that looks boring until they smile.
“It’s Thursday,” Zhou Mi says, and Kyuhyun smiles at him. “Do you want to share my lunch?” He offers, and Kyuhyun turns to straddle the bench so they can sit face to face.
“Yeah,” he says, and doesn’t check his watch, “okay.”
“You know your eye is bruising,” Zhou Mi says, and Kyuhyun laughs, reaching in Zhou Mi’s crinkly brown paper bag for a carrot stick.
“Let’s go out,” Kyuhyun says suddenly, “I’ll buy you dinner. A thank you.” Zhou Mi smiles again, and Kyuhyun has that fleeting thought again, lets himself enjoy the way Zhou Mi’s smile dominates his face.
“Yeah,” Zhou Mi says, eyes down as he pokes at a dumpling, “I’d like that.”