SuJu Ficlet featuring Yebum.
Title: Mistake
Pairing: Yesung x Kibum
Genre: Angst, pure angst.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I own nothing, but I wish I did.
Summary: Kibum comes back from his 'hiatus'.
Word count: 1119
Notes: Unbetad, a bit. I looked over it again today.
I'm sorry it's so short. I've been trying to write for days, and I only managed to finish this. Which is really short, I know!
Mistake
Kibum is smiling--wider than a child on Christmas morning--when he returns. It’s as though he’s never left, he realizes, as they rush over to hug and pat him on the back. “Welcome home,” the leader says, stealing a kiss from the young man’s cheek. They laugh and go into the kitchen, hands intertwined. They’ve been waiting for so long; now all they want is to get drunk out of their minds with Kibum back by their side.
Yesung is too busy beaming to realize Kibum isn’t paying attention to him, and is, instead, swallowing as many shots as physically possible to keep himself from blubbering like a baby. He was never a lightweight, they all knew that. Yesung keeps his distance, not wanting to smother him like all the others; he needs time to settle back into the dorm if they want him to stay this time.
He finally has his first drink, somewhat disappointed that Kibum hasn’t come to chat with him yet. Yesung clearly remembers (and he wishes he didn’t) Kibum saying that he is his favorite hyung, and possibly even friend in Super Junior. It had made him blush to the point that he couldn’t find the words to thank the younger man before he disappeared.
But now, with the way he’s acting, he wonders if he had imagined the whole conversation. He sips at the hard liquor, crinkling his nose when it burns all the way down his throat, slipping down his chest achingly slow. Yesung sets the glass down on the table in the living room, watching over the rowdy men in the kitchen.
It isn’t long before they all disperse; drunk, high on emotions and excited for the future projects together. Some of them head back to their rooms to play card games, others go outside for a walk, and the heavy drinkers continue in the kitchen, passing out half way through their lush-filled games. Kangin is left alone, wandering the kitchen for something to draw on their faces with. He finds a permanent marker in a drawer, but (luckily) he passes out while zigzagging across the tiles with it.
Yesung wonders what happened to Kibum, who he can’t see anymore, but lets the thought slip away with each new taste of the strong beverage in his grasp. Moments later, a disheveled and clearly drunk man stumbles toward him, nearly falling onto his lap.
“Hyung!” Kibum calls out.
Yesung forces a smile, still a bit insulted that it took so long for him to come over. “Hey Kibum.”
“Hyung, I’m so drunk,” He burps quietly and leans closer. “I missed you.”
And Yesung feels a pinch to his heart, a stab to his feelings; something wasn’t right with this situation. But Kibum is who he longs for with every pore of his skin. “I missed you too,” The words flow easily because it’s true.
“So, Yesung, I mean Hyung,” Kibum leans his head against the older man’s shoulder. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“S-sure,” Yesung doesn’t realize he’s stuttering until Kibum chuckles and slaps his knee gently.
“I love you.”
And before Yesung can process the words (because he’s already too close to being drunk to think properly), Kibum is on his lap, pushing his tongue into his mouth. Hands travel at the speed of light, not caring an instant that they’re stark naked, and in the living room where anyone can find them.
Yesung knows this is wrong, hates himself for continuing, but can’t seem to shake the feeling that maybe Kibum actually means it. Maybe they can be together, finally. Then he’s being pushed down (see: slammed), his arms pinned above his head with a familiar person, but unfamiliar gaze looking down at him sensually.
Kibum’s lips curve upward when he takes Yesung, hard and fast, scraping his fingers against the fragile skin. Yesung feels disgusting suddenly; this drunken dongsaeng almost seems like he’s doing it for kicks rather than to prove his affection. He can feel the entirety of his back rub against the rough material of the carpet below, sure that he’ll regret most (if not all) of this experience tomorrow.
Kibum is moaning, calling Yesung’s name as he bruises his lips with another punishing kiss, his hips ramming into the older man mercilessly. If it weren’t for the pressure, the tension building up inside him, Yesung thinks, he knows, there would be a hole visible above his toned abs. A cavity where his heart was would be that hole in his chest.
A few more aggressive thrusts later, and the younger man is spilling into Yesung. He doesn’t look into Kibum’s eyes, but he knows the man is still staring down at him with that blackened look of lust. He can feel it burning against the side of his face. Kibum smiles and grabs hold of Yesung’s cock, which is only half hard, offering to give him some help.
“No,” Yesung answers dryly. “It’s fine. I’ll do it myself.” And he knows it’s a lie, but Kibum is too drunk to notice his dampened eyes, so he doesn’t feel guilty.
“Okay,” Kibum mumbles something else, but ends up falling over and passing out on the couch.
He only has on his boxers, so Yesung forces his limbs up, shaking as he walks over and grabs a blanket for Kibum. He’s not mad, he tells himself, he’s disappointed, he’s hurt that he let go of his control so easily. Yesung puts his clothing on, snuggling against the carpet he loathes and loves for a myriad of reasons.
The next day, Kibum is still all smiles. He pets Yesung’s hair when he wakes up, whispering a small ‘good morning Hyung’. Yesung turns over, looking at Kibum through narrowed eyes; somehow the curtain of the living room is missing. Kibum rubs Yesung’s arm and feels indentations he doesn’t recall against the smooth skin.
“Hyung, what happened? Your arm and back is full of marks.”
Clearly, he doesn’t remember anything, but Yesung just needs to be certain. He needs to know it was just a wasted night, filled with nothing but loveless sex and rough play. So he asks despite being aware of the answer. “Don’t you remember what happened last night?”
“No,” Kibum’s eyes widen. He seems genuinely concerned. “Did something bad happen?”
There’s no point in holding onto such a wretched night, Yesung decides. “Don’t worry. Nothing happened. Just mistakes.”
It’s better this way.
The end.
Comments are ♥
Pairing: Yesung x Kibum
Genre: Angst, pure angst.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I own nothing, but I wish I did.
Summary: Kibum comes back from his 'hiatus'.
Word count: 1119
Notes: Unbetad, a bit. I looked over it again today.
I'm sorry it's so short. I've been trying to write for days, and I only managed to finish this. Which is really short, I know!
Mistake
Kibum is smiling--wider than a child on Christmas morning--when he returns. It’s as though he’s never left, he realizes, as they rush over to hug and pat him on the back. “Welcome home,” the leader says, stealing a kiss from the young man’s cheek. They laugh and go into the kitchen, hands intertwined. They’ve been waiting for so long; now all they want is to get drunk out of their minds with Kibum back by their side.
Yesung is too busy beaming to realize Kibum isn’t paying attention to him, and is, instead, swallowing as many shots as physically possible to keep himself from blubbering like a baby. He was never a lightweight, they all knew that. Yesung keeps his distance, not wanting to smother him like all the others; he needs time to settle back into the dorm if they want him to stay this time.
He finally has his first drink, somewhat disappointed that Kibum hasn’t come to chat with him yet. Yesung clearly remembers (and he wishes he didn’t) Kibum saying that he is his favorite hyung, and possibly even friend in Super Junior. It had made him blush to the point that he couldn’t find the words to thank the younger man before he disappeared.
But now, with the way he’s acting, he wonders if he had imagined the whole conversation. He sips at the hard liquor, crinkling his nose when it burns all the way down his throat, slipping down his chest achingly slow. Yesung sets the glass down on the table in the living room, watching over the rowdy men in the kitchen.
It isn’t long before they all disperse; drunk, high on emotions and excited for the future projects together. Some of them head back to their rooms to play card games, others go outside for a walk, and the heavy drinkers continue in the kitchen, passing out half way through their lush-filled games. Kangin is left alone, wandering the kitchen for something to draw on their faces with. He finds a permanent marker in a drawer, but (luckily) he passes out while zigzagging across the tiles with it.
Yesung wonders what happened to Kibum, who he can’t see anymore, but lets the thought slip away with each new taste of the strong beverage in his grasp. Moments later, a disheveled and clearly drunk man stumbles toward him, nearly falling onto his lap.
“Hyung!” Kibum calls out.
Yesung forces a smile, still a bit insulted that it took so long for him to come over. “Hey Kibum.”
“Hyung, I’m so drunk,” He burps quietly and leans closer. “I missed you.”
And Yesung feels a pinch to his heart, a stab to his feelings; something wasn’t right with this situation. But Kibum is who he longs for with every pore of his skin. “I missed you too,” The words flow easily because it’s true.
“So, Yesung, I mean Hyung,” Kibum leans his head against the older man’s shoulder. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“S-sure,” Yesung doesn’t realize he’s stuttering until Kibum chuckles and slaps his knee gently.
“I love you.”
And before Yesung can process the words (because he’s already too close to being drunk to think properly), Kibum is on his lap, pushing his tongue into his mouth. Hands travel at the speed of light, not caring an instant that they’re stark naked, and in the living room where anyone can find them.
Yesung knows this is wrong, hates himself for continuing, but can’t seem to shake the feeling that maybe Kibum actually means it. Maybe they can be together, finally. Then he’s being pushed down (see: slammed), his arms pinned above his head with a familiar person, but unfamiliar gaze looking down at him sensually.
Kibum’s lips curve upward when he takes Yesung, hard and fast, scraping his fingers against the fragile skin. Yesung feels disgusting suddenly; this drunken dongsaeng almost seems like he’s doing it for kicks rather than to prove his affection. He can feel the entirety of his back rub against the rough material of the carpet below, sure that he’ll regret most (if not all) of this experience tomorrow.
Kibum is moaning, calling Yesung’s name as he bruises his lips with another punishing kiss, his hips ramming into the older man mercilessly. If it weren’t for the pressure, the tension building up inside him, Yesung thinks, he knows, there would be a hole visible above his toned abs. A cavity where his heart was would be that hole in his chest.
A few more aggressive thrusts later, and the younger man is spilling into Yesung. He doesn’t look into Kibum’s eyes, but he knows the man is still staring down at him with that blackened look of lust. He can feel it burning against the side of his face. Kibum smiles and grabs hold of Yesung’s cock, which is only half hard, offering to give him some help.
“No,” Yesung answers dryly. “It’s fine. I’ll do it myself.” And he knows it’s a lie, but Kibum is too drunk to notice his dampened eyes, so he doesn’t feel guilty.
“Okay,” Kibum mumbles something else, but ends up falling over and passing out on the couch.
He only has on his boxers, so Yesung forces his limbs up, shaking as he walks over and grabs a blanket for Kibum. He’s not mad, he tells himself, he’s disappointed, he’s hurt that he let go of his control so easily. Yesung puts his clothing on, snuggling against the carpet he loathes and loves for a myriad of reasons.
The next day, Kibum is still all smiles. He pets Yesung’s hair when he wakes up, whispering a small ‘good morning Hyung’. Yesung turns over, looking at Kibum through narrowed eyes; somehow the curtain of the living room is missing. Kibum rubs Yesung’s arm and feels indentations he doesn’t recall against the smooth skin.
“Hyung, what happened? Your arm and back is full of marks.”
Clearly, he doesn’t remember anything, but Yesung just needs to be certain. He needs to know it was just a wasted night, filled with nothing but loveless sex and rough play. So he asks despite being aware of the answer. “Don’t you remember what happened last night?”
“No,” Kibum’s eyes widen. He seems genuinely concerned. “Did something bad happen?”
There’s no point in holding onto such a wretched night, Yesung decides. “Don’t worry. Nothing happened. Just mistakes.”
It’s better this way.
The end.
Comments are ♥