10 drabbles with song titles.
I used Super Junior, Big Bang and 2pm.
This is actually the first time I've ever written 2pm fiction, so I figured I'd start slowly-- aka drabbles. lol.
Are you the one? (The Presets)
--Kangteuk
Kangin sharpens his mind’s eye, watches silently, appearing to be yet another pawn in play. Eeteuk smiles at the last of the members as they go back to their respective rooms. He pats them on the back lovingly; just to let them know he’s always there for them, even if they might have noticed that his mind is elsewhere.
Eeteuk doesn’t say anything. Kangin says even less. But this is how it is between them; in the quiet darkness they make their way to one another, fingers intertwined if only to keep them from rushing things.
Even if it’s not a permanent ordeal, it’s a sufficient amount of companionship for now. For now, it’ll have to do. Kangin kisses Eeteuk without asking; that’s how the leader likes it anyway.
Mystery (Beast)
--JaebumxJunho
On days when Jaebeom doesn’t call, doesn’t text, doesn’t email, doesn’t send postage, is he still somehow around? On days when Junho doesn’t receive a call, a text, an email, a letter, does he still exist? The other members can’t recall those days for some reason.
It’s either because, on those days, he busies himself with personal chores, works out, or takes long walks-even in the rain. Or, as Chansung pointed out jokingly, maybe he just seeps into the hideous wallpaper; his suffering transformed into even uglier decorations, until he’s covered every wall of the dorm. And all that’s left is to detach his body once again and return among the living.
On most days, he exists. But when he receives nothing, he becomes nothing; leaving the shell of his being behind-traces of him across the walls, along with his fingerprints.
Last Resort (Papa Roach)
--GTop
Jiyong stays up all night again. He tugs at the roots of his hair, hating the day he decided to turn blonde, because no one is this fuckin’ happy all the time.
Yes, blondes have more fun. Yes, blondes are bubbly masses of joy packaged to brighten anyone’s day. But Jiyong isn’t a natural blonde, and it’s starting to ruin his entire persona-what ever’s left of it.
And, now, people who’ve just met him-along with the ones who’ve known him for years-are beginning to see him in a different light. They assume he’s carefree; nothing bothers him, or ever will in the future.
But the fact of the matter is; everything is bothering him, and he’s seriously considering joining a help group for OCD sufferers.
If he’s being perfectly honest, with others as well as himself, this blonde isn’t a style he wants to sport anymore. This blonde is ruining his life in more ways than he cares to recall. It was more of a tool for seduction, one that proved futile, seeing as the man in question has his tongue down someone else’s throat as we speak.
He curses the day he went blonde for Choi Seunghyun.
Tonight (Luna Sea)
--Shinmin
Sungmin peers around the corner; there he is. Shindong reads a Japanese manga (he bought it while in Japan), mouthing the syllables to try and practice the foreign language. Sungmin’s eyes scan the area, his ears twitching in attempt to pick up any sound within a mile radius.
There’s no one else, which means it’s time.
Shindong reaches over to a bowl of popcorn next to him on the sofa and grabs a handful, shoving it into his mouth carelessly. The character in the book has bulging eyes and runs across to the next page, which he flips to.
Sungmin’s eyes widen and he rushes across the room, taking a flying leap and falling onto Shindong’s lap, which, strangely enough, is what the main character in Shindong’s manga did as well. He looks above his manga; Sungmin’s dark eyes are staring back at him, invigorated by the lack of reaction.
“Tonight,” Sungmin starts to say, discarding the book to one corner, t-shirt and shorts to another. And at some point the popcorn gets turned over and lands on the floor-luckily it’s a plastic bowl. Shindong whimpers-mostly for the popcorn-and waits for the rest of the sentence.
It never comes, but something else does, and for that he’s glad to be in Super Junior.
Forever (Drake)
--GTop
Seunghyun walks to the edge of the sidewalk-red light-he stops. His cell phone rings and he searches for it in his coat pocket, fishing it out by the dangling keychain Jiyong gave him for his last birthday. And, as though no one else within his list of fifty phone contacts can dial a number, it ends up being Jiyong.
“Seunghyun,” his voice is hoarse, probably caused by him staying up all night again writing lyrics. “Can you come home, I want to see you.”
Seunghyun smiles against the receiver, nodding as though the precious leader can see him. “Sure, I’ll be there soon.” He snaps his phone shut-green light-he begins to cross the street.
Some people have intuition and feelings when it concerns their kids or parents. Other people can sense when something bad is going to, or has happened, to one of their family members. Seunghyun can feel Jiyong.
Even as he’s blocks and blocks away, his skin tingles knowing Jiyong is thinking about him; his cheeks flush as he’s reminded of all the times tiny fingertips slid across them; his lips swell from the excitement, anticipating his return ‘home’ to Jiyong, anticipating that welcoming kiss.
Seunghyun smiles as he makes it to the other side of the street; Jiyong is already one block closer, and that much closer to being back by his side.
Life (Flyleaf)
--ChanHo
Junho pets Chansung’s hair in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon, but mostly in the evening; it all depends on when the younger man decides to finally drift into slumber.
Magnae are meant to be toyed with, he tells himself, why else would they have their own little title, why else would they act the cutest?
Sometimes, when it’s raining far too much to go outside, Chansung will curl up in Junho’s bed with him, intertwining their limbs until they become warmth at its purest form, capable of melting icebergs.
Junho thinks Chansung does it because he’s bored, or he’s cold, or he’s too lazy to cook (or all of the above). But, and Chansung would never admit it to him, he does it for Junho.
He slips into his bed because he knows how much it means to him. He kisses him in the deafening silence, feigning sleep, because he knows Junho is too afraid to take the next step. He hugs him so tightly, no set time for when he might let go, because he knows that’s what Junho needs from him. And that's what he wants to give him.
He’s the youngest, yes, but he’s lived like anyone else, and he knows things.
He knows just how to touch Junho to make him let go of his insecurities; he knows the way Junho sounds when he’s on the verge of giving in, he knows the way Junho’s skin feels when he presses that inch closer; and feels his every curve when he’s finally relaxed.
When he’s ready, Chansung tells himself, he’ll do it of his own accord.
Getting away with murder (Papa Roach)
--ShiHan
Siwon wipes his hands on the white towel, leaning over the sink while turning it on. He waits for the water to warm a bit and scoops some up in his hands, splashing it onto his face; instantly he feels infinitely better.
Hankyung knocks on the door of the bathroom. “Are you okay in there?”
Siwon’s facial muscles tense; panic now boldly written over his face. He sighs and grabs some soap, scrubbing his hands clean and rushing to turn off the tap. He grabs the towel again, but this time he stares at it with disgust.
Hankyung knocks again.
“One second, I’ll be right out honey.” Siwon pulls the towel off the rack and dries his hands with it, using it to wipe the residue from the sink soon after.
“I’m coming in.” Hankyung opens the door and is standing inches away from the younger man. “Are you okay? You’ve been in here for a while.”
Siwon smiles leaning down to kiss Hankyung on the cheek gently. “I’m fine, honestly.”
He pulls Hankyung in with one hand, resting it on the nape of the shorter man’s neck. His next statement is too quiet to hear. Everything is fine.The hand with the towel in it grips it tighter, feeling it slip from his grasp due to the saturation of blood, which is also dripping onto the bathroom tiles.
Wrong Number (DBSK)
--GTop
Jiyong pulls off his shirt, throwing it aimlessly across the room. Seunghyun smirks and attempts to catch it from his seat, but misses because of the restraints keeping him in place. Jiyong winks and walks over to the older man, hips rocking with each new step he takes.
He approaches slowly, purposely; otherwise there would be no point to Seunghyun being tied down.
Seunghyun grumbles a bit, fingers attempting to flail from the handcuffs, but luckily Jiyong can’t see them-hidden behind the wooden chair-or he would be walking slower. Jiyong finally reaches Seunghyun’s lap and plops down onto him roughly, purposely again, as a way to further torment the dominant fellow.
Seunghyun’s cell phone vibrates in his pocket. Jiyong whimpers and pulls it out promptly; who could be the source of the disturbance?
“Hello?” his voice is deeper than usual so the person on the other end doesn’t recognize him.
“Seunghyun? It’s Youngbae.” Jiyong rolls his eyes; of course it has to be his best friend.
Jiyong kisses along Seunghyun’s jaw. “This isn’t Seunghyun.” Seunghyun fights to keep in any vocal sounds.
“Oh? Who is this?” Youngbae’s voice gets smaller, suddenly uncertain and full of insecurity.
“Doesn’t matter. Wrong number, buddy.” Jiyong hangs up and puts the phone on his nightstand. Seunghyun is all his tonight; Youngbae will have to wait until tomorrow.
Clubbed to Death (Rob D)
--KhunJae
Jaebum sees a blue sky or is it the sea? It’s bright blue, and when he stares, it brightens, as though calling to him, telling him to come closer. There’s a beating sound, like taiko drums, like his heart when he runs too fast, like an overloaded washing machine, like an army marching over the cold asphalt.
The sky, sea, whatever it is, blurs and swirls, pulling him into it like a black hole of color. The beating doesn’t stop, it continues; taiko drums turning into the sound of a baseball bat, his heart pounding so hard it breaks through his chest, a washing machine that overflows onto his kitchen floor, the army turning to look at him with distorted, darkened faces.
When he finally awakes he can’t calm himself, he can’t stop sweating, but the beating hasn’t stopped and it’s not his heart. (He checked, it’s still safely inside his body.)
It’s the door.
Jaebum tries to regain what little control over his senses he has left and opens the door.
“Jay, come back with me. If you don’t, I won’t go back.” Nichkhun pulls Jaebum in close, his fingers and knuckles scraping over Jaebum’s bare back; bruised and, possibly, broken from having knocked on the door for well over an hour.
Jaebum doesn’t know what to say, but he can’t say no, not anymore.
The Kill (30stm)
-YeKyu
Yesung smiles from the sofa, while kyuhyun is sitting with his feet resting on the living room table. He doesn’t think anything of it. Yesung waves, nervously, Kyuhyun looking up from his DS and nodding to show that he noticed the gesture. There’s nothing to a wave.
Yesung gets up from his spot and starts stretching. Frontward, his hair messes up; backward, his shirt lifts up; side to side, more skin to be seen. Kyuhyun pretends not to see from behind his portable console.
Yesung sighs and pulls his shirt over his head slowly; shaking his hair as soon as the soft cotton isn’t making contact with any more body parts. Kyuhyun can feign disinterest a bit less, but succeeds nonetheless.
The older man finally starts unbuckling his belt. Kyuhyun sighs, saving his game and snapping the console shut. “That’s it.”
He grabs the older man by his shoulders. “Use your words next time.” Kyuhyun pushes him into the nearest bedroom and locks the door behind them.
Comments are ♥
This is actually the first time I've ever written 2pm fiction, so I figured I'd start slowly-- aka drabbles. lol.
Are you the one? (The Presets)
--Kangteuk
Kangin sharpens his mind’s eye, watches silently, appearing to be yet another pawn in play. Eeteuk smiles at the last of the members as they go back to their respective rooms. He pats them on the back lovingly; just to let them know he’s always there for them, even if they might have noticed that his mind is elsewhere.
Eeteuk doesn’t say anything. Kangin says even less. But this is how it is between them; in the quiet darkness they make their way to one another, fingers intertwined if only to keep them from rushing things.
Even if it’s not a permanent ordeal, it’s a sufficient amount of companionship for now. For now, it’ll have to do. Kangin kisses Eeteuk without asking; that’s how the leader likes it anyway.
Mystery (Beast)
--JaebumxJunho
On days when Jaebeom doesn’t call, doesn’t text, doesn’t email, doesn’t send postage, is he still somehow around? On days when Junho doesn’t receive a call, a text, an email, a letter, does he still exist? The other members can’t recall those days for some reason.
It’s either because, on those days, he busies himself with personal chores, works out, or takes long walks-even in the rain. Or, as Chansung pointed out jokingly, maybe he just seeps into the hideous wallpaper; his suffering transformed into even uglier decorations, until he’s covered every wall of the dorm. And all that’s left is to detach his body once again and return among the living.
On most days, he exists. But when he receives nothing, he becomes nothing; leaving the shell of his being behind-traces of him across the walls, along with his fingerprints.
Last Resort (Papa Roach)
--GTop
Jiyong stays up all night again. He tugs at the roots of his hair, hating the day he decided to turn blonde, because no one is this fuckin’ happy all the time.
Yes, blondes have more fun. Yes, blondes are bubbly masses of joy packaged to brighten anyone’s day. But Jiyong isn’t a natural blonde, and it’s starting to ruin his entire persona-what ever’s left of it.
And, now, people who’ve just met him-along with the ones who’ve known him for years-are beginning to see him in a different light. They assume he’s carefree; nothing bothers him, or ever will in the future.
But the fact of the matter is; everything is bothering him, and he’s seriously considering joining a help group for OCD sufferers.
If he’s being perfectly honest, with others as well as himself, this blonde isn’t a style he wants to sport anymore. This blonde is ruining his life in more ways than he cares to recall. It was more of a tool for seduction, one that proved futile, seeing as the man in question has his tongue down someone else’s throat as we speak.
He curses the day he went blonde for Choi Seunghyun.
Tonight (Luna Sea)
--Shinmin
Sungmin peers around the corner; there he is. Shindong reads a Japanese manga (he bought it while in Japan), mouthing the syllables to try and practice the foreign language. Sungmin’s eyes scan the area, his ears twitching in attempt to pick up any sound within a mile radius.
There’s no one else, which means it’s time.
Shindong reaches over to a bowl of popcorn next to him on the sofa and grabs a handful, shoving it into his mouth carelessly. The character in the book has bulging eyes and runs across to the next page, which he flips to.
Sungmin’s eyes widen and he rushes across the room, taking a flying leap and falling onto Shindong’s lap, which, strangely enough, is what the main character in Shindong’s manga did as well. He looks above his manga; Sungmin’s dark eyes are staring back at him, invigorated by the lack of reaction.
“Tonight,” Sungmin starts to say, discarding the book to one corner, t-shirt and shorts to another. And at some point the popcorn gets turned over and lands on the floor-luckily it’s a plastic bowl. Shindong whimpers-mostly for the popcorn-and waits for the rest of the sentence.
It never comes, but something else does, and for that he’s glad to be in Super Junior.
Forever (Drake)
--GTop
Seunghyun walks to the edge of the sidewalk-red light-he stops. His cell phone rings and he searches for it in his coat pocket, fishing it out by the dangling keychain Jiyong gave him for his last birthday. And, as though no one else within his list of fifty phone contacts can dial a number, it ends up being Jiyong.
“Seunghyun,” his voice is hoarse, probably caused by him staying up all night again writing lyrics. “Can you come home, I want to see you.”
Seunghyun smiles against the receiver, nodding as though the precious leader can see him. “Sure, I’ll be there soon.” He snaps his phone shut-green light-he begins to cross the street.
Some people have intuition and feelings when it concerns their kids or parents. Other people can sense when something bad is going to, or has happened, to one of their family members. Seunghyun can feel Jiyong.
Even as he’s blocks and blocks away, his skin tingles knowing Jiyong is thinking about him; his cheeks flush as he’s reminded of all the times tiny fingertips slid across them; his lips swell from the excitement, anticipating his return ‘home’ to Jiyong, anticipating that welcoming kiss.
Seunghyun smiles as he makes it to the other side of the street; Jiyong is already one block closer, and that much closer to being back by his side.
Life (Flyleaf)
--ChanHo
Junho pets Chansung’s hair in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon, but mostly in the evening; it all depends on when the younger man decides to finally drift into slumber.
Magnae are meant to be toyed with, he tells himself, why else would they have their own little title, why else would they act the cutest?
Sometimes, when it’s raining far too much to go outside, Chansung will curl up in Junho’s bed with him, intertwining their limbs until they become warmth at its purest form, capable of melting icebergs.
Junho thinks Chansung does it because he’s bored, or he’s cold, or he’s too lazy to cook (or all of the above). But, and Chansung would never admit it to him, he does it for Junho.
He slips into his bed because he knows how much it means to him. He kisses him in the deafening silence, feigning sleep, because he knows Junho is too afraid to take the next step. He hugs him so tightly, no set time for when he might let go, because he knows that’s what Junho needs from him. And that's what he wants to give him.
He’s the youngest, yes, but he’s lived like anyone else, and he knows things.
He knows just how to touch Junho to make him let go of his insecurities; he knows the way Junho sounds when he’s on the verge of giving in, he knows the way Junho’s skin feels when he presses that inch closer; and feels his every curve when he’s finally relaxed.
When he’s ready, Chansung tells himself, he’ll do it of his own accord.
Getting away with murder (Papa Roach)
--ShiHan
Siwon wipes his hands on the white towel, leaning over the sink while turning it on. He waits for the water to warm a bit and scoops some up in his hands, splashing it onto his face; instantly he feels infinitely better.
Hankyung knocks on the door of the bathroom. “Are you okay in there?”
Siwon’s facial muscles tense; panic now boldly written over his face. He sighs and grabs some soap, scrubbing his hands clean and rushing to turn off the tap. He grabs the towel again, but this time he stares at it with disgust.
Hankyung knocks again.
“One second, I’ll be right out honey.” Siwon pulls the towel off the rack and dries his hands with it, using it to wipe the residue from the sink soon after.
“I’m coming in.” Hankyung opens the door and is standing inches away from the younger man. “Are you okay? You’ve been in here for a while.”
Siwon smiles leaning down to kiss Hankyung on the cheek gently. “I’m fine, honestly.”
He pulls Hankyung in with one hand, resting it on the nape of the shorter man’s neck. His next statement is too quiet to hear. Everything is fine.The hand with the towel in it grips it tighter, feeling it slip from his grasp due to the saturation of blood, which is also dripping onto the bathroom tiles.
Wrong Number (DBSK)
--GTop
Jiyong pulls off his shirt, throwing it aimlessly across the room. Seunghyun smirks and attempts to catch it from his seat, but misses because of the restraints keeping him in place. Jiyong winks and walks over to the older man, hips rocking with each new step he takes.
He approaches slowly, purposely; otherwise there would be no point to Seunghyun being tied down.
Seunghyun grumbles a bit, fingers attempting to flail from the handcuffs, but luckily Jiyong can’t see them-hidden behind the wooden chair-or he would be walking slower. Jiyong finally reaches Seunghyun’s lap and plops down onto him roughly, purposely again, as a way to further torment the dominant fellow.
Seunghyun’s cell phone vibrates in his pocket. Jiyong whimpers and pulls it out promptly; who could be the source of the disturbance?
“Hello?” his voice is deeper than usual so the person on the other end doesn’t recognize him.
“Seunghyun? It’s Youngbae.” Jiyong rolls his eyes; of course it has to be his best friend.
Jiyong kisses along Seunghyun’s jaw. “This isn’t Seunghyun.” Seunghyun fights to keep in any vocal sounds.
“Oh? Who is this?” Youngbae’s voice gets smaller, suddenly uncertain and full of insecurity.
“Doesn’t matter. Wrong number, buddy.” Jiyong hangs up and puts the phone on his nightstand. Seunghyun is all his tonight; Youngbae will have to wait until tomorrow.
Clubbed to Death (Rob D)
--KhunJae
Jaebum sees a blue sky or is it the sea? It’s bright blue, and when he stares, it brightens, as though calling to him, telling him to come closer. There’s a beating sound, like taiko drums, like his heart when he runs too fast, like an overloaded washing machine, like an army marching over the cold asphalt.
The sky, sea, whatever it is, blurs and swirls, pulling him into it like a black hole of color. The beating doesn’t stop, it continues; taiko drums turning into the sound of a baseball bat, his heart pounding so hard it breaks through his chest, a washing machine that overflows onto his kitchen floor, the army turning to look at him with distorted, darkened faces.
When he finally awakes he can’t calm himself, he can’t stop sweating, but the beating hasn’t stopped and it’s not his heart. (He checked, it’s still safely inside his body.)
It’s the door.
Jaebum tries to regain what little control over his senses he has left and opens the door.
“Jay, come back with me. If you don’t, I won’t go back.” Nichkhun pulls Jaebum in close, his fingers and knuckles scraping over Jaebum’s bare back; bruised and, possibly, broken from having knocked on the door for well over an hour.
Jaebum doesn’t know what to say, but he can’t say no, not anymore.
The Kill (30stm)
-YeKyu
Yesung smiles from the sofa, while kyuhyun is sitting with his feet resting on the living room table. He doesn’t think anything of it. Yesung waves, nervously, Kyuhyun looking up from his DS and nodding to show that he noticed the gesture. There’s nothing to a wave.
Yesung gets up from his spot and starts stretching. Frontward, his hair messes up; backward, his shirt lifts up; side to side, more skin to be seen. Kyuhyun pretends not to see from behind his portable console.
Yesung sighs and pulls his shirt over his head slowly; shaking his hair as soon as the soft cotton isn’t making contact with any more body parts. Kyuhyun can feign disinterest a bit less, but succeeds nonetheless.
The older man finally starts unbuckling his belt. Kyuhyun sighs, saving his game and snapping the console shut. “That’s it.”
He grabs the older man by his shoulders. “Use your words next time.” Kyuhyun pushes him into the nearest bedroom and locks the door behind them.
Comments are ♥