RPW(WAMSABAP): Going, Going, Gone (bandfic)

[warmboys]

Fandom: Super Junior
Pairing: Shindong/Sungmin, implied others
Rating/Category: very light R, broken!bandfic essentially
Word Count: ~970
Summary: They send Shindong off to outer space.
A/N: For Rare Pairings Week!



Going, Going, Gone

They say they sent Shindong to space because he’s the most self-sufficient out of all of them. In reality Kibum and Shindong arm-wrestled for it, and Shindong won by relocating all of his weight on his right arm. Kibum claims momentary paralysis afterwards and gets a free pass from guitar practice for the next week. He and Donghae picnic in the dance studio while Hankyung twirls and twirls until the room smells like pansies and sweat. Shindong’s shuttle takes off a couple miles away, and only Sungmin is there to see him off. Shindong presses both hands to the window and watches Sungmin’s smile get smaller and smaller.

Kangin is upset they left him out of the arm-wrestling match, and Leeteuk snaps at him, “If you hadn’t gone and got yourself arrested, you big-“ but stops when he realizes Kangin hadn’t been serious but now his eyes are rimmed red and everyone else is quiet. Ryeowook breaks the silence, suggests that they give Shindong a call to see how he’s doing, and Yesung laughs a little too loudly and reminds him that Shindong isn’t even in outer space yet. He’s probably just beyond the earth’s atmosphere, Kyuhyun calculates from his corner of the couch. “Lucky bastard,” Heechul says and no one is sure why.

Sungmin comes home with an empty bread basket and a handful of music sheets and immediately stalks towards the practice room.

Space, Shindong realizes, is not exactly cold or uncomfortable but sometimes he feels like there’s a vacuum cleaner being pressed up to his head and while it’s switched off for now his entire face could be sucked off at any given moment without so much as a half-second warning. His suit is silver and white and most of the time he bounces around the spacecraft just because he can. For once in his life he’s weightless.

They’ve given him a year’s supply of animal crackers. He opens a bag and they float out like bubbles; he grabs one shaped like a bear and bites off its head. There’s even a tv in here, although he only gets three channels. One of them shows clips of Super Junior-T on repeat, twenty-four seven, seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year. Watching Heechul grin wide and goofy in a sequined pink suit and silver bowtie, he realizes he doesn’t miss home at all.

Back on earth Siwon jokes that Shindong can form a new partition of Super Junior-Super Junior-A, for alien. “Do you believe in aliens, hyung?” he asks Heechul quite seriously afterwards, and Heechul shrugs and scrolls through his cell phone for Jungmo’s number. Donghae wonders why Siwon is okay with God but not extraterrestrials, and he says so to Kibum later, but Kibum ruffles his hair and grins, almost as if he were the hyung in this relationship. “I missed you,” is all Kibum says, and Donghae responds, “I didn’t” because Kibum didn’t answer his question, but Kibum doesn’t take it seriously, he just laughs again.

Because Kibum is back and Shindong is gone, they designate the main rapping parts to Kibum and Eunhyuk now, and occasionally Donghae when he’s feeling angry. Eunhyuk sometimes breaks into tears in the studio, and Leeteuk gets frustrated, and Kangin wants to give him a black eye but refrains because three strikes and you’re out; he seethes in the corner instead, pretends to be sleeping by pulling his cap over his face. “Are you asleep?” Hankyung nearly trips on his leg when he comes in, even though nobody asked him to be there because they don’t have a singing part for him in the new song anyway, and Kangin visualizes an imprint the size of his fist on Hankyung’s face. The anger management classes are clearly not helping. What he really needs is to get laid.

He sneaks into Sungmin’s room that night but forgets that Sungmin is a black belt in Karate, an active member of the Hong Kong Kung-fu Movie Reenactment Club, and can kick a can of beans off Siwon’s head. Within seconds of groping around the floorboards in the dark Kangin finds himself whipped around, his arms forced behind his back in one swift, indiscernible motion, and his shirt, over his head. The flimsy cotton of the t-shirt is pressed against his eyes when he feels a tongue flick over his earlobe: “Don’t speak. Kyuhyun is sleeping.” A second later he’s forced onto the bed, stripped to the buttocks, and Sungmin is pushing up against him, inside him. It takes every ounce of self-restraint not to scream, and it’s Leeteuk’s tired face branded into his mind that keeps him quiet.

They call Shindong the next day, because it’s been a week since he said goodbye, eyes narrowed into smiley slants, and thumped out the door and up away into the sky. His image flickers on the tiny silver screen Kyuhyun stole from the International Space Station, and he looks healthy and fine, self-sufficient as always. “DO YOU MISS US?” Heechul screams because he thinks that being far away from the ones you’re supposed to love is the same as being deaf, and Shindong asks, “What?” as if to confirm his fears. But there’s something playing in the background, something offbeat and weird like-oh, it’s Rokkugo, Shindong is listening to Rokkugo, they realize and their hearts do a collective flip even though they didn’t think they cared all that much-but Shindong disappears off the edge of the screen for a second, the music stops, and he pokes his head back into the frame. “I hate that song, it’s all they play on that channel,” he apologizes. “What were you saying?” and Sungmin, who was going to speak next, bites down on his tongue until he tastes iron.

not sure what this is. i read extraterrestrial fic and wanted to write something weird. instead it turned out angsty D: