(no subject)
untitled | Heechul, Hankyung | G | 500-1000w; a homeless man; languages | AU
It was cold out, colder than it usually was but that was to be expected since it was the nearing the winter season. You pull your coat tighter around your body as if it would help you feel warmer. It helped, a bit. But mostly it just felt like your ribs were being crushed by the heavy clothing. It didn’t help that you were stick thin and didn’t generate enough body heat for yourself to even feel slightly warm. You curse the weather forecast on TV. They never did get it right so what did you expect.
“Jungsu’s going to kill me,” you tell no one in particular. The silence of the streets you were in getting on your nerves. You didn’t like silence. Weren’t used to it anymore as well. Especially with the new kid in your dorms.
You let yourself smile at the memory of the seventeen year old boy covered from head to toe in peanut butter. (“Hyukjae and Junsu tricked me again hyung!” he said with the cutest pout on his lips and you just patted his head and smiled before continuing what you were doing.)
Speaking of Donghae, you remind yourself to ask Yunho about his plans for Christmas.
The wind picks up and you’re colder than ever, shivering under your thick coat and you wonder why the coat isn’t helping in keeping you warm.
You pick up your pace. Wanting to get back to your nice warm dorm which you share with a gajillion other boys that all have the same dream as you. You imagine Jungsu’s nagging voice telling you to wear a warmer coat next time and Youngwoon handing you a mug of hot chocolate. (“Jungsu-hyung’s afraid you might catch a cold” he would say but you know Jungsu didn’t have anything to do with it.) You’d make your way on the living room, hot chocolate in hand, and see Sungmin and Donghee on the couch, gossiping like teenage girls and you’re just a little bit envious of the friendship they share.
You almost trip on something in the middle of the sidewalk and you snap back to reality. Your temper has always been short and before you knew it, you were already cursing the thing on the sidewalk which, as you look closer, happens to be a person.
The man, homeless by the looks of it, just stares at you. The streets were dimly lit so you can’t see the other man’s eyes clearly. You stop yourself from completely exploding in front of the man. These situations mostly led to physical fighting if you went by Youngwoon’s experience. The only difference being that Youngwoon actually stood a chance against the other party while you, unfortunately, did not. You were always better at verbal fights anyway.
You quickly apologize and run as fast as you can in the direction of your dorm. Praying (even if you didn’t believe in God) that the homeless man wouldn’t follow you or mugg you or worse, rape you. (Everyone always said you were too pretty to be a guy.)
“等一下,” the other man calls out. The words were unfamiliar but you can tell it was Chinese.
You run faster.
“Wa-wait please!” he yells in this heavily-laced accent and you stop. Not bothering to turn around to look at him but still wait for him to catch up.
He’s standing beside you in no time (you inch a little further because of the stench), panting, and there’s this small voice in your head telling you to just run away and never go back to this street for the next few years. But never in your life have you listened to that voice so you tune it out and instead, listen to the soft voice of the stinky homeless Chinese man right next to you.
(“My name is Hankyung,” he says and you find yourself addicted to his gentle voice and you listen to him as he tells you his life story in his broken korean that you oddly understand.)
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A/N: should I continue this?
It was cold out, colder than it usually was but that was to be expected since it was the nearing the winter season. You pull your coat tighter around your body as if it would help you feel warmer. It helped, a bit. But mostly it just felt like your ribs were being crushed by the heavy clothing. It didn’t help that you were stick thin and didn’t generate enough body heat for yourself to even feel slightly warm. You curse the weather forecast on TV. They never did get it right so what did you expect.
“Jungsu’s going to kill me,” you tell no one in particular. The silence of the streets you were in getting on your nerves. You didn’t like silence. Weren’t used to it anymore as well. Especially with the new kid in your dorms.
You let yourself smile at the memory of the seventeen year old boy covered from head to toe in peanut butter. (“Hyukjae and Junsu tricked me again hyung!” he said with the cutest pout on his lips and you just patted his head and smiled before continuing what you were doing.)
Speaking of Donghae, you remind yourself to ask Yunho about his plans for Christmas.
The wind picks up and you’re colder than ever, shivering under your thick coat and you wonder why the coat isn’t helping in keeping you warm.
You pick up your pace. Wanting to get back to your nice warm dorm which you share with a gajillion other boys that all have the same dream as you. You imagine Jungsu’s nagging voice telling you to wear a warmer coat next time and Youngwoon handing you a mug of hot chocolate. (“Jungsu-hyung’s afraid you might catch a cold” he would say but you know Jungsu didn’t have anything to do with it.) You’d make your way on the living room, hot chocolate in hand, and see Sungmin and Donghee on the couch, gossiping like teenage girls and you’re just a little bit envious of the friendship they share.
You almost trip on something in the middle of the sidewalk and you snap back to reality. Your temper has always been short and before you knew it, you were already cursing the thing on the sidewalk which, as you look closer, happens to be a person.
The man, homeless by the looks of it, just stares at you. The streets were dimly lit so you can’t see the other man’s eyes clearly. You stop yourself from completely exploding in front of the man. These situations mostly led to physical fighting if you went by Youngwoon’s experience. The only difference being that Youngwoon actually stood a chance against the other party while you, unfortunately, did not. You were always better at verbal fights anyway.
You quickly apologize and run as fast as you can in the direction of your dorm. Praying (even if you didn’t believe in God) that the homeless man wouldn’t follow you or mugg you or worse, rape you. (Everyone always said you were too pretty to be a guy.)
“等一下,” the other man calls out. The words were unfamiliar but you can tell it was Chinese.
You run faster.
“Wa-wait please!” he yells in this heavily-laced accent and you stop. Not bothering to turn around to look at him but still wait for him to catch up.
He’s standing beside you in no time (you inch a little further because of the stench), panting, and there’s this small voice in your head telling you to just run away and never go back to this street for the next few years. But never in your life have you listened to that voice so you tune it out and instead, listen to the soft voice of the stinky homeless Chinese man right next to you.
(“My name is Hankyung,” he says and you find yourself addicted to his gentle voice and you listen to him as he tells you his life story in his broken korean that you oddly understand.)
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A/N: should I continue this?