(no subject)
title: three ways kangin and yehsung didn't meet
fandom: super junior
rating: pg
pairings: yehsung/kangin
word count: 895
notes: for sukinohikari, part of the 2008 miracle_ss project.
As soon as YoungWoon learned to crawl, well before he learned to walk, he was warned not to set foot into the shadowy forests just beyond the limits of the village. Games of hide and seek usually brought his adventurous spirit to the edges, but he listened to his mother and stayed away. That is, until late one afternoon, when a stray baseball flew into the woods and he took off after it.
"YoungWoon ah! You're going too far!"
"Be careful!"
"It's too dark!"
"You'll get lost!"
"I'm telling your mom!"
The sound of his playmates' warnings died behind him as he passed the line separating the village from the woods surrounding it. Not that he would have paid them much more heed had they continued, anyway. He wasn't afraid of anything.
"Relax, you guys! I'm not going in that deep!"
But it was after tripping over a root sticking out from the ground that he realized just how far he had gone. He could barely see the clearing that led back into the village, the tall trees making it difficult for the light from the sun to peek through. Scrambling to his feet, he looked around, searching for the ball in case it had dropped nearby.
He couldn't see it, but it wasn't long before he heard it, rustling through the pile of leaves toward him.
It landed by his feet.
YoungWoon bent over to pick it up; as he stood, he came face-to-face with a young boy about his age, hair unruly and eyes dark (dangerous) but curious and maybe even a little shy. For a long minute, neither moved. Then, the dark-eyed boy opened his mouth to speak, eyes lighting up with a hope that went unnoticed as YoungWoon nearly spun himself off balance and darted away in the opposite direction. He never once looked back.
***
This isn't YoungWoon's first time riding the train alone, nor is it his mother's first lecture on how to keep safe - don't talk to strangers, pay attention to emergency exits, never leave your things unattended. Only now he's fourteen, certainly old enough to take care of himself.
His responses are mechanical, head bobbing slowly as he pretends to listen to lines long ago memorized from years of repetition. He is too distracted by the activity on the platform to really pay attention.
As his eyes scan the area, a few faces stand out here and there, the people whose daily schedule brings them to the station everyday. But there are also strangers, people "vacationing" just as he is, who leave at a different time, on a different day, but probably around the same month, every year.
"Yes, I'll call when I get to Dad's house."
He leans in to give his mother a good-bye kiss on the cheek, then hauls his luggage onto the train and finds a seat by the window, so he can wave to her before the train departs. She is already tearing up, as she does every year, and he grins to assure her things will be fine; he's coming back at the end of the summer.
When YoungWoon turns back around, the doors are opening and a boy about his age, with hair erratically styled going in all directions, steps into the hallway. The train lurches forward. His mother had warned him not to speak to strangers, but YoungWoon is fourteen now, certainly old enough to take care of himself.
He takes a chance and smiles at the boy, friendly as usual, scooting over to make some room next to his seat. Dragging his luggage behind him, a small suitcase and nothing else, the boy passes him by without sparing more than a cursory glance.
***
JongWoon likes going to clubs due to the nature of their anonymity. He knows the best places to get a drink, dance with someone, meet a pretty face or a well-toned body for a good night's fuck. He never exchanges numbers, rarely asks names.
SJ-7 is one of the more popular ones, and JongWoon likes it particularly due to its ever-changing guest list. Tonight, however, there isn't much to interest him.
"In a mood?"
KyuHyun, one of the regular bartenders, leans over the counter to shout into his ear. The music is loud tonight, a little too loud. He can already feel a headache forming just behind his temple.
"Not much to look at."
KyuHyun nods, slowly, eyes lifting towards a group of new arrivals. College students, four of them. JongWoon goes back to sipping his cranberry juice, keeping his eyes on them.
They hit the bar first, but are soon back out on the dance floor. It is a little unusual, he notes, that amidst the group of slender, fragile bodies is one that looks like it could belong to a baseball player. Broad shoulders, stocky build, not too tall, but not short either.
"Go get 'em tiger."
"Funny."
JongWoon ruffles KyuHyun's hair as he steps off his stool and steps purposefully onto the dance floor.
It doesn't take much to get the baseball player all to himself, his friends snickering behind their hands as they make their way somewhere else. The kid is a terrible dancer, but he's got a nice body and smiles with the confidence of someone much older.
JongWoon whispers, "Outside. Five minutes."
Outside, five minutes, six minutes, seven minutes later, JongWoon leaves. He's got a headache, anyway. Rounding the corner, he doesn't see the doors open as his dance partner steps out, eyes roving the street for an opportunity lost.
x-posted here and here
fandom: super junior
rating: pg
pairings: yehsung/kangin
word count: 895
notes: for sukinohikari, part of the 2008 miracle_ss project.
As soon as YoungWoon learned to crawl, well before he learned to walk, he was warned not to set foot into the shadowy forests just beyond the limits of the village. Games of hide and seek usually brought his adventurous spirit to the edges, but he listened to his mother and stayed away. That is, until late one afternoon, when a stray baseball flew into the woods and he took off after it.
"YoungWoon ah! You're going too far!"
"Be careful!"
"It's too dark!"
"You'll get lost!"
"I'm telling your mom!"
The sound of his playmates' warnings died behind him as he passed the line separating the village from the woods surrounding it. Not that he would have paid them much more heed had they continued, anyway. He wasn't afraid of anything.
"Relax, you guys! I'm not going in that deep!"
But it was after tripping over a root sticking out from the ground that he realized just how far he had gone. He could barely see the clearing that led back into the village, the tall trees making it difficult for the light from the sun to peek through. Scrambling to his feet, he looked around, searching for the ball in case it had dropped nearby.
He couldn't see it, but it wasn't long before he heard it, rustling through the pile of leaves toward him.
It landed by his feet.
YoungWoon bent over to pick it up; as he stood, he came face-to-face with a young boy about his age, hair unruly and eyes dark (dangerous) but curious and maybe even a little shy. For a long minute, neither moved. Then, the dark-eyed boy opened his mouth to speak, eyes lighting up with a hope that went unnoticed as YoungWoon nearly spun himself off balance and darted away in the opposite direction. He never once looked back.
***
This isn't YoungWoon's first time riding the train alone, nor is it his mother's first lecture on how to keep safe - don't talk to strangers, pay attention to emergency exits, never leave your things unattended. Only now he's fourteen, certainly old enough to take care of himself.
His responses are mechanical, head bobbing slowly as he pretends to listen to lines long ago memorized from years of repetition. He is too distracted by the activity on the platform to really pay attention.
As his eyes scan the area, a few faces stand out here and there, the people whose daily schedule brings them to the station everyday. But there are also strangers, people "vacationing" just as he is, who leave at a different time, on a different day, but probably around the same month, every year.
"Yes, I'll call when I get to Dad's house."
He leans in to give his mother a good-bye kiss on the cheek, then hauls his luggage onto the train and finds a seat by the window, so he can wave to her before the train departs. She is already tearing up, as she does every year, and he grins to assure her things will be fine; he's coming back at the end of the summer.
When YoungWoon turns back around, the doors are opening and a boy about his age, with hair erratically styled going in all directions, steps into the hallway. The train lurches forward. His mother had warned him not to speak to strangers, but YoungWoon is fourteen now, certainly old enough to take care of himself.
He takes a chance and smiles at the boy, friendly as usual, scooting over to make some room next to his seat. Dragging his luggage behind him, a small suitcase and nothing else, the boy passes him by without sparing more than a cursory glance.
***
JongWoon likes going to clubs due to the nature of their anonymity. He knows the best places to get a drink, dance with someone, meet a pretty face or a well-toned body for a good night's fuck. He never exchanges numbers, rarely asks names.
SJ-7 is one of the more popular ones, and JongWoon likes it particularly due to its ever-changing guest list. Tonight, however, there isn't much to interest him.
"In a mood?"
KyuHyun, one of the regular bartenders, leans over the counter to shout into his ear. The music is loud tonight, a little too loud. He can already feel a headache forming just behind his temple.
"Not much to look at."
KyuHyun nods, slowly, eyes lifting towards a group of new arrivals. College students, four of them. JongWoon goes back to sipping his cranberry juice, keeping his eyes on them.
They hit the bar first, but are soon back out on the dance floor. It is a little unusual, he notes, that amidst the group of slender, fragile bodies is one that looks like it could belong to a baseball player. Broad shoulders, stocky build, not too tall, but not short either.
"Go get 'em tiger."
"Funny."
JongWoon ruffles KyuHyun's hair as he steps off his stool and steps purposefully onto the dance floor.
It doesn't take much to get the baseball player all to himself, his friends snickering behind their hands as they make their way somewhere else. The kid is a terrible dancer, but he's got a nice body and smiles with the confidence of someone much older.
JongWoon whispers, "Outside. Five minutes."
Outside, five minutes, six minutes, seven minutes later, JongWoon leaves. He's got a headache, anyway. Rounding the corner, he doesn't see the doors open as his dance partner steps out, eyes roving the street for an opportunity lost.
x-posted here and here