100 Suju fics
100 Suju fics archive
#9. Coffee, Eunhyuk/Donghae
PG
Too much caffeine, Hyukjae knows, is bad for you. Too much Donghae, he fears, can prove potentially fatal. Or at least pose significant threat to his immortal soul/sanity/peace of mind. Whichever he comes close to losing first.
Hyukjae wonders, with a kind of morbid fascination, if it’s just crossed the line into too much.
“Coffee?” Donghae is oddly cheerful, bushy tailed and bright eyed and too awake. Hyukjae jerks guiltily away from thoughts of his bandmate and tiny grey shorts and why neither of them seem to be hungover at all; reins them in before they can go plunging over the precipice into depths he does not -cannot- explore right now.
“Donghae”, Hyukjae tries, slowly, patiently, “Hae, I live here.”
Donghae shifts uncomfortably, which sets all sorts of alarm bells off in Hyukjae’s head. “I, uh. Wouldn’t go into the kitchen right now.” In anyone else he would write it off as just being circumspect, but subtlety just seems to elude Donghae most of the time.
“Why-”
“So it’s true.” Ryeowook looks horrified, and Hyukjae realizes too late he’s still shirtless. Heechul appears to be torn between smug superiority and mild distaste. “I knew it”, he’s announcing to anyone who’ll listen, even as Siwon plucks at his sleeve plaintively, obviously embarrassed. “Finally. I’m going to have to get Junsu to pay up now”, Sungmin’s telling a too amused Kibum, and that’s the only thing that registers above all the noise, oh dear god Junsu-
“Out”, Hyukjae manages weakly, then raises his voice when he’s ignored. “Out!”
“You think he’d be a bit less cranky after-”
“Shut up,Youngwoon-”
“So”, Donghae begins after an interminable pause once the door closes -in which Hyukjae closes his eyes and prays to wake up, for the world to end, for the strength to resist committing homicide- as he climbs back under the covers, mug clutched precariously in one hand, “coffee?”
Inhale, the heady aroma of the strong brew, the clean scent of soap on Donghae’s skin from the shower, and Hyukjae makes up his mind. Damnit, he’s owed this, after all that, that abuse. “Maybe later”, he tells an all too obliging Donghae, cup left to cool on the nightstand. Coffee, he decides, can wait.
#27. Replacement, Heechul/Kibum (hinted Hangeng/Heechul)
PG
Heechul is a nuisance, more often than not, but even Kibum isn’t blind to the way he becomes more brittle and on edge when Hangeng’s gone, more apt to bite anyone’s head off. It’s like watching an angry housecat stalk the apartment.
Kibum’s learned to read the cues, the body language, the veiled messages. “Help me sort through my fan mail” usually means sitting there letting Heechul talk his ear off, watching Heechul preen over the gushing declarations of devotion, snorting and laughing over the more ridiculous ones, and what Kibum takes to mean as keep me company. “Amuse me”, Heechul might declare airily one evening while Kibum’s trying to read or watch TV on the couch, legs splayed unceremoniously across Kibum’s own knees, entire stance suggestive of indolence, of boredom. Kibum knows better, sees it in the way Heechul fidgets and watches the clock, hands flipping his phone open, closed, open, again and again and again. “I’m starving”, Heechul snaps peevishly when he stumbles home from filming. “Cook something.”
Kibum shrugs and makes instant ramen. It’s just about all he can manage.
Kibum doesn’t mind, not really. Heechul is tolerable, if annoying, and they all have their own ways of dealing. Siwon invites Heechul out for dinner. Donghae invites him over to the other apartment to play video games. Kangin just grimaces at him sympathetically whenever they’re on set. His only real complaint, though, is when he wakes up one night to find Heechul in his bed, bony and limpet-like.
“Hyung”, he groans, “why’re you here?”
“Shut up”, Heechul manages a convincing snarl, even with voice thick and sleep-fogged, “it’s cold”, and that’s the end of that conversation.
They’re both home, for a wonder, when Hangeng returns. “Took you long enough”, Heechul says brusquely, but there’s no heart to it. “Did you get us anything?”
Kibum’s glad it’s his turn to be off the radar for a week or so, now that Hangeng’s back and there’s overseas filming to be done. What he doesn’t expect is Hangeng calling long distance mid-week, sounding oddly strained.
“Come back soon, please”, Hangeng says, faint desperation seeping through even through the connection. “He gets bored easily when you’re not around”, and Kibum offers as much commiseration as he can.
Maybe, Kibum thinks, he’ll call Heechul tonight.
#9. Coffee, Eunhyuk/Donghae
PG
Too much caffeine, Hyukjae knows, is bad for you. Too much Donghae, he fears, can prove potentially fatal. Or at least pose significant threat to his immortal soul/sanity/peace of mind. Whichever he comes close to losing first.
Hyukjae wonders, with a kind of morbid fascination, if it’s just crossed the line into too much.
“Coffee?” Donghae is oddly cheerful, bushy tailed and bright eyed and too awake. Hyukjae jerks guiltily away from thoughts of his bandmate and tiny grey shorts and why neither of them seem to be hungover at all; reins them in before they can go plunging over the precipice into depths he does not -cannot- explore right now.
“Donghae”, Hyukjae tries, slowly, patiently, “Hae, I live here.”
Donghae shifts uncomfortably, which sets all sorts of alarm bells off in Hyukjae’s head. “I, uh. Wouldn’t go into the kitchen right now.” In anyone else he would write it off as just being circumspect, but subtlety just seems to elude Donghae most of the time.
“Why-”
“So it’s true.” Ryeowook looks horrified, and Hyukjae realizes too late he’s still shirtless. Heechul appears to be torn between smug superiority and mild distaste. “I knew it”, he’s announcing to anyone who’ll listen, even as Siwon plucks at his sleeve plaintively, obviously embarrassed. “Finally. I’m going to have to get Junsu to pay up now”, Sungmin’s telling a too amused Kibum, and that’s the only thing that registers above all the noise, oh dear god Junsu-
“Out”, Hyukjae manages weakly, then raises his voice when he’s ignored. “Out!”
“You think he’d be a bit less cranky after-”
“Shut up,Youngwoon-”
“So”, Donghae begins after an interminable pause once the door closes -in which Hyukjae closes his eyes and prays to wake up, for the world to end, for the strength to resist committing homicide- as he climbs back under the covers, mug clutched precariously in one hand, “coffee?”
Inhale, the heady aroma of the strong brew, the clean scent of soap on Donghae’s skin from the shower, and Hyukjae makes up his mind. Damnit, he’s owed this, after all that, that abuse. “Maybe later”, he tells an all too obliging Donghae, cup left to cool on the nightstand. Coffee, he decides, can wait.
#27. Replacement, Heechul/Kibum (hinted Hangeng/Heechul)
PG
Heechul is a nuisance, more often than not, but even Kibum isn’t blind to the way he becomes more brittle and on edge when Hangeng’s gone, more apt to bite anyone’s head off. It’s like watching an angry housecat stalk the apartment.
Kibum’s learned to read the cues, the body language, the veiled messages. “Help me sort through my fan mail” usually means sitting there letting Heechul talk his ear off, watching Heechul preen over the gushing declarations of devotion, snorting and laughing over the more ridiculous ones, and what Kibum takes to mean as keep me company. “Amuse me”, Heechul might declare airily one evening while Kibum’s trying to read or watch TV on the couch, legs splayed unceremoniously across Kibum’s own knees, entire stance suggestive of indolence, of boredom. Kibum knows better, sees it in the way Heechul fidgets and watches the clock, hands flipping his phone open, closed, open, again and again and again. “I’m starving”, Heechul snaps peevishly when he stumbles home from filming. “Cook something.”
Kibum shrugs and makes instant ramen. It’s just about all he can manage.
Kibum doesn’t mind, not really. Heechul is tolerable, if annoying, and they all have their own ways of dealing. Siwon invites Heechul out for dinner. Donghae invites him over to the other apartment to play video games. Kangin just grimaces at him sympathetically whenever they’re on set. His only real complaint, though, is when he wakes up one night to find Heechul in his bed, bony and limpet-like.
“Hyung”, he groans, “why’re you here?”
“Shut up”, Heechul manages a convincing snarl, even with voice thick and sleep-fogged, “it’s cold”, and that’s the end of that conversation.
They’re both home, for a wonder, when Hangeng returns. “Took you long enough”, Heechul says brusquely, but there’s no heart to it. “Did you get us anything?”
Kibum’s glad it’s his turn to be off the radar for a week or so, now that Hangeng’s back and there’s overseas filming to be done. What he doesn’t expect is Hangeng calling long distance mid-week, sounding oddly strained.
“Come back soon, please”, Hangeng says, faint desperation seeping through even through the connection. “He gets bored easily when you’re not around”, and Kibum offers as much commiseration as he can.
Maybe, Kibum thinks, he’ll call Heechul tonight.