작은 거미 (Small Spider) [KiHae, R]
Title: 작은거미 (Small Spider)
Pairing: KiHae
Rating: R
Summary: He’s in a room with no windows.
Note: This is weird and angsty and idek. Inspired a bit by Spider Forest and me being in a weird mood. :\ Started in December, finished yesterday.
It’s nighttime and he can’t breathe. It’s dark and too hot and too cold and he can’t breathe. His eyes stay wide and they can’t adjust to the darkness of the room and he can barely remember where he is, though he knows he’s lying in his own bed, their bed. He can’t see, can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t remember anything except smiling eyes that aren’t there.
-
the first snow of the year and he’s watching donghae twirl around, trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue stretched into the air. he buries his face deeper into his scarf, plain black and a bit scratchy, and watches donghae’s eyes twinkle in the light of the streetlamp, watches donghae’s outstretched arms and fingers as he spins again, watches a pink tint spread over donghae’s nose and cheeks in the cold air.
-
He spoke the least then and he speaks even less now.
-
donghae’s nose is cool against the skin on his neck, his breath warm. donghae sleeps curled around him like a cat, head tucked under his chin, hand clutching the material of his shirt by his hip, legs tangled together. they sleep through the night, borrowing dreams, burrowing under comforters. donghae’s toes are cold pressed against his calf.
-
He’s stands in a forest. Light filters through the leaves and dots on his skin. A figure stands in a group of trees a while away. It’s a young boy with large eyes, but he turns and runs away beyond the trees. He tries to follow but he can’t pick up his feet.
-
donghae is laughing, eyes narrowed and shining, mouth open, teeth white. he can’t help but laugh, too, even if he didn’t hear the joke.
-
There’s a harsh rattling noise and he’s scared. He’s so scared he could die. The dark is so thick and he’s still lying in his bed but he can’t move a muscle, can’t make a sound. The other side of the bed is cold and he just wants morning to come so he can think.
-
his face is hard, mouth drawn to a line, and he tries not to look at donghae and donghae’s tears because he’ll cry too if he does. he clenches fists at his sides and shouts, no coherent words, and donghae flinches and he’s so sorry because he’s not even shouting at donghae, he’s shouting at himself. donghae makes a little hiccupping noise and he can’t take it, can’t keep up this façade, and turns to leave the room. he just barely makes it out the door and around the corner before collapsing, eyes burning with unshed tears, and donghae is on him in a moment, holding his cheeks with cool palms and kissing his eyelids, his cheeks, his lips, until tears fall and fall and dry out.
-
His toes and fingers are cold and the three blankets draped over him aren’t helping to keep out the dark. The rattling noise is still there and he can’t tell if it’s closer, or farther away, or just the same. He tries to blink, to just close his eyes, but he can’t.
-
he slurps up ramen like he hasn’t eaten in months. donghae catches his eye across the table and there’s a little mischievous light to them and now they’re racing: who can finish their noodles the fastest, who can slurp the loudest. donghae loses by just a few stray noodles. he thinks donghae’s pout is adorable but changes his mind when a wet hot noodle is thrown at his face.
-
He’s in a room with no windows.
-
the fire crackles in the fireplace. he sits curled up on the sofa, palm curved around a coffee mug. donghae wears two sweaters and a puffy jacket, gloves covering his fingers, standing on a step ladder to reach the tip of the tree. the heat has gone out but between the fire, his hot chocolate, and seeing donghae struggle not to fall over (donghae’s smile is half of his face), he is warm.
-
He stands in the forest again. He hears a child laugh, the little boy from before, but he can’t see anyone. There’s an old abandoned cottage not far away. He blinks and he’s moved so he’s standing at the door, the wood cracked and dry and splintering. Cobwebs hang on the frame, dead flies caught inside and he feels his stomach turn like he could vomit.
-
“let’s go to the ocean,” donghae says. “the east sea.” he feels like he could melt in donghae’s smile and gives one back of his own.
-
He’s not sure he can make it until dawn. His teeth chatter, finger nails dig into his palms, but he can’t hear it, can’t feel it. His skin is shaking and his eyes are wet and painfully dry at the same time. The rattling noise sounds in his ear. He can’t decide whether to flinch away or try to get closer, but he can’t move either way.
-
“i’m happy,” donghae says. the morning sun filters through the blinds. donghae’s head rests on his arm as they lay curled around each other, stretches back a bit to look at his face. donghae’s eyes sparkle in the faint light, white teeth showing just a bit with his contented smile. he looks back at donghae and his heart aches in the best way possible.
-
He wonders faintly if they can hear that noise in the other rooms, if they can hear his chattering teeth next door. He tries to think of Donghae but all that comes to his mind are the heavy bags under Donghae’s eyes when he’s tired or sick or scared. And the rattling noise gets louder.
-
his hands are shaking. he clasps them together in his lap. maybe donghae won’t see. eeteuk pats his shoulder one more time and turns to leave, shakes his head sadly and shuts the door quietly behind him. “they told eeteuk there’s nothing they can do,” donghae says, trying to smile. “i pretended to be asleep.”
-
He could have sworn he was just wishing for day to come not long ago but now, in this forest, the sunlight filtering through the leaves almost burns his skin. He shivers. His stomach still flips as he reaches out a hand, fingers closing around the cold brass of the doorknob. It is dusty and tarnished and creaks as it turns. A piece of wood pokes his finger before he can push the door in. A red drop of blood pools and he can hear his heart beat. It’s somewhere up behind his eyes.
-
he is laughing and dancing and even though it’s heechul standing beside him, he can hear donghae’s “life couldn’t get better~ whoo!” in his ear and that is what makes him smile.
-
The little boy is laughing again. The sound comes from behind the door. Leaves rustle behind him. He can hear himself breathe, long and raspy, trying to release the clench of his stomach. The boy laughs again, longer and louder.
-
they fit around each other like puzzle pieces. his lips mouth the back on donghae’s neck. donghae’s hand reaches back to grip his thigh, fingernails lightly scratching his skin. “hae,” he whispers, palms donghae’s arousal that little bit harder. donghae sighs, clenches muscles around him and they go over together. he doesn’t pull out yet, places little kisses against donghae’s spine.
-
They give him a bit more rice than the others at meals. Two small white pills sit next to his glass of water. His fingers are almost too cold to hold his chopsticks, so he uses a spoon. He’s not sure what the pills are for. He takes them anyway.
-
the sand slips in between his toes. donghae is running towards the water, arms spread open wide. donghae’s laughter reaches his ears. he grins as wide as donghae’s arm when donghae trips over a sand crab and falls face first into the waves.
-
He sees the shape of a person between the leaves from the corner of his eye. He turns to look but no one is there and his tongue is dry and heavy in his mouth.
-
donghae’s fingers grip his, it almost hurts. there’s a fierce shine in donghae’s eyes and he can forget about the gray-tinted skin, the too-sharp elbows, the yellow toenail beds. donghae kisses him until her closes his eyes and forgets.
-
He’s so tired but his eyes can’t close. The pillow is cold on his cheek. He can barely feel his fingers. Shindong swears the heater is on full blast. He wishes he had a fourth blanket.
-
he sits next to donghae and reminds himself to try to look good. the reporter smiles a little too widely at donghae. he tries not to glare at her, winds his arm around donghae’s waist. donghae grins, giggles. donghae answers her question about his ideal type and leans into his shoulder so slightly, no one else can tell.
-
The door swings in, screeching. It hurts his ears. The boy stands there. He laughs again. His eyes are shining, but he is not smiling. His eyes are the same color as Donghae’s, the same shape. There is blood red on the doorframe. He isn’t sure whether it’s from his finger or something else.
-
he looks at donghae’s smile. donghae is joking around with hyukjae, planning pranks, dropping puns. it reaches donghae’s eyes but it’s different. it’s not as good as donghae’s smile for him, not as full. he grins.
-
Hankyung sometimes asks him to set the table when they actually get a chance to all eat together. He puts out thirteen plates. Thirteen cups. Thirteen napkins. By the end of dinner one plate is clean. One cup is clean. One napkin is clean.
-
“please, please,” donghae pleads, fingers threaded through his hair, teeth biting his lip. “just-almost…” he feels donghae’s thighs twitch under his fingers, against his cheek.
-
He can see the outline of a person standing near the closet. His teeth chatter as he opens his mouth. The rattling noise sounds in his ear, shakes his body. He can finally blink but the person is gone.
-
donghae smiles up at him from the white sheets, white blanket, white pillow. he tries to ignore the white walls and red dots of blood on the handkerchief.
-
The leaves rustle behind him again. He steps inside the house and the little boy closes the door. The boy laughs again but tears slip down his cheeks. They are full and round. The boy has stolen Donghae’s eyes. He wants to get them back and bring them back to Donghae.
-
“let’s make brownies!” donghae says. it’s eight in the morning. he starts looking for the box of batter but donghae pulls out a cookbook. “let’s do it the fun way.” it takes thirty minutes to find all the ingredients. he thinks it worth it when he spots a smudge of flour on donghae’s nose, wipes it off with his thumb.
-
He takes a step toward the little boy. The boy doesn’t move. He stops, shoulders falling slack. He turns and sees the blood on the floor for the first time. A pool of it. He can hear a fly buzz before it gets caught in a spider web. The rattling noise gets louder. He hadn’t realized it was there before. He doesn’t remember when the boy started screaming. He doesn’t remember when he started screaming.
-
he watches donghae dance around the studio, popping, locking, rapping. donghae wears a sweater he snagged from shindong’s closet. it’s huge, hangs half-way down donghae’s thighs. he thinks donghae still looks amazing, strides over to donghae, kisses donghae on the lips. donghae stop mid-step, almost trips over his own toes.
-
He still has goosebumps. Two arms are wrapped tight around him. He faintly recognizes the scent of Yesung’s soap. A crack of sunlight peaks from between the curtains. No one stands by the closet. His eyes are dry and ache. His fingers are still cold. “You were screaming,” Yesung says.
-
he doesn’t cry, watches with blank eyes as eeteuk sobs, hyukjae clutches sungmin’s hand, kangin bites his lip and throws a rose into the opening in the ground. siwon wraps an arm around his shoulder. his hands are in his pockets, balled into fists, fingernails digging into his palms.
-
His skin is dry. There are cuts along his calves where he scratches. He closes the door behind him as he leaves. The boy does not follow him. He walks through the trees, not sure which way to go.
-
he looks down at where donghae leans his head back against the couch. figures flash around the television screen, talking, dancing, laughing. he wraps his arm tighter around donghae’s shoulders, presses his cheek, mouth, against the top of donghae’s head, murmurs words into donghae’s hair.
-
“Life couldn’t get better~” Sungmin sings under his breath. He opens his mouth, tries to breath. It doesn’t work. He can only hear the rattling, scraping.
Pairing: KiHae
Rating: R
Summary: He’s in a room with no windows.
Note: This is weird and angsty and idek. Inspired a bit by Spider Forest and me being in a weird mood. :\ Started in December, finished yesterday.
It’s nighttime and he can’t breathe. It’s dark and too hot and too cold and he can’t breathe. His eyes stay wide and they can’t adjust to the darkness of the room and he can barely remember where he is, though he knows he’s lying in his own bed, their bed. He can’t see, can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t remember anything except smiling eyes that aren’t there.
-
the first snow of the year and he’s watching donghae twirl around, trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue stretched into the air. he buries his face deeper into his scarf, plain black and a bit scratchy, and watches donghae’s eyes twinkle in the light of the streetlamp, watches donghae’s outstretched arms and fingers as he spins again, watches a pink tint spread over donghae’s nose and cheeks in the cold air.
-
He spoke the least then and he speaks even less now.
-
donghae’s nose is cool against the skin on his neck, his breath warm. donghae sleeps curled around him like a cat, head tucked under his chin, hand clutching the material of his shirt by his hip, legs tangled together. they sleep through the night, borrowing dreams, burrowing under comforters. donghae’s toes are cold pressed against his calf.
-
He’s stands in a forest. Light filters through the leaves and dots on his skin. A figure stands in a group of trees a while away. It’s a young boy with large eyes, but he turns and runs away beyond the trees. He tries to follow but he can’t pick up his feet.
-
donghae is laughing, eyes narrowed and shining, mouth open, teeth white. he can’t help but laugh, too, even if he didn’t hear the joke.
-
There’s a harsh rattling noise and he’s scared. He’s so scared he could die. The dark is so thick and he’s still lying in his bed but he can’t move a muscle, can’t make a sound. The other side of the bed is cold and he just wants morning to come so he can think.
-
his face is hard, mouth drawn to a line, and he tries not to look at donghae and donghae’s tears because he’ll cry too if he does. he clenches fists at his sides and shouts, no coherent words, and donghae flinches and he’s so sorry because he’s not even shouting at donghae, he’s shouting at himself. donghae makes a little hiccupping noise and he can’t take it, can’t keep up this façade, and turns to leave the room. he just barely makes it out the door and around the corner before collapsing, eyes burning with unshed tears, and donghae is on him in a moment, holding his cheeks with cool palms and kissing his eyelids, his cheeks, his lips, until tears fall and fall and dry out.
-
His toes and fingers are cold and the three blankets draped over him aren’t helping to keep out the dark. The rattling noise is still there and he can’t tell if it’s closer, or farther away, or just the same. He tries to blink, to just close his eyes, but he can’t.
-
he slurps up ramen like he hasn’t eaten in months. donghae catches his eye across the table and there’s a little mischievous light to them and now they’re racing: who can finish their noodles the fastest, who can slurp the loudest. donghae loses by just a few stray noodles. he thinks donghae’s pout is adorable but changes his mind when a wet hot noodle is thrown at his face.
-
He’s in a room with no windows.
-
the fire crackles in the fireplace. he sits curled up on the sofa, palm curved around a coffee mug. donghae wears two sweaters and a puffy jacket, gloves covering his fingers, standing on a step ladder to reach the tip of the tree. the heat has gone out but between the fire, his hot chocolate, and seeing donghae struggle not to fall over (donghae’s smile is half of his face), he is warm.
-
He stands in the forest again. He hears a child laugh, the little boy from before, but he can’t see anyone. There’s an old abandoned cottage not far away. He blinks and he’s moved so he’s standing at the door, the wood cracked and dry and splintering. Cobwebs hang on the frame, dead flies caught inside and he feels his stomach turn like he could vomit.
-
“let’s go to the ocean,” donghae says. “the east sea.” he feels like he could melt in donghae’s smile and gives one back of his own.
-
He’s not sure he can make it until dawn. His teeth chatter, finger nails dig into his palms, but he can’t hear it, can’t feel it. His skin is shaking and his eyes are wet and painfully dry at the same time. The rattling noise sounds in his ear. He can’t decide whether to flinch away or try to get closer, but he can’t move either way.
-
“i’m happy,” donghae says. the morning sun filters through the blinds. donghae’s head rests on his arm as they lay curled around each other, stretches back a bit to look at his face. donghae’s eyes sparkle in the faint light, white teeth showing just a bit with his contented smile. he looks back at donghae and his heart aches in the best way possible.
-
He wonders faintly if they can hear that noise in the other rooms, if they can hear his chattering teeth next door. He tries to think of Donghae but all that comes to his mind are the heavy bags under Donghae’s eyes when he’s tired or sick or scared. And the rattling noise gets louder.
-
his hands are shaking. he clasps them together in his lap. maybe donghae won’t see. eeteuk pats his shoulder one more time and turns to leave, shakes his head sadly and shuts the door quietly behind him. “they told eeteuk there’s nothing they can do,” donghae says, trying to smile. “i pretended to be asleep.”
-
He could have sworn he was just wishing for day to come not long ago but now, in this forest, the sunlight filtering through the leaves almost burns his skin. He shivers. His stomach still flips as he reaches out a hand, fingers closing around the cold brass of the doorknob. It is dusty and tarnished and creaks as it turns. A piece of wood pokes his finger before he can push the door in. A red drop of blood pools and he can hear his heart beat. It’s somewhere up behind his eyes.
-
he is laughing and dancing and even though it’s heechul standing beside him, he can hear donghae’s “life couldn’t get better~ whoo!” in his ear and that is what makes him smile.
-
The little boy is laughing again. The sound comes from behind the door. Leaves rustle behind him. He can hear himself breathe, long and raspy, trying to release the clench of his stomach. The boy laughs again, longer and louder.
-
they fit around each other like puzzle pieces. his lips mouth the back on donghae’s neck. donghae’s hand reaches back to grip his thigh, fingernails lightly scratching his skin. “hae,” he whispers, palms donghae’s arousal that little bit harder. donghae sighs, clenches muscles around him and they go over together. he doesn’t pull out yet, places little kisses against donghae’s spine.
-
They give him a bit more rice than the others at meals. Two small white pills sit next to his glass of water. His fingers are almost too cold to hold his chopsticks, so he uses a spoon. He’s not sure what the pills are for. He takes them anyway.
-
the sand slips in between his toes. donghae is running towards the water, arms spread open wide. donghae’s laughter reaches his ears. he grins as wide as donghae’s arm when donghae trips over a sand crab and falls face first into the waves.
-
He sees the shape of a person between the leaves from the corner of his eye. He turns to look but no one is there and his tongue is dry and heavy in his mouth.
-
donghae’s fingers grip his, it almost hurts. there’s a fierce shine in donghae’s eyes and he can forget about the gray-tinted skin, the too-sharp elbows, the yellow toenail beds. donghae kisses him until her closes his eyes and forgets.
-
He’s so tired but his eyes can’t close. The pillow is cold on his cheek. He can barely feel his fingers. Shindong swears the heater is on full blast. He wishes he had a fourth blanket.
-
he sits next to donghae and reminds himself to try to look good. the reporter smiles a little too widely at donghae. he tries not to glare at her, winds his arm around donghae’s waist. donghae grins, giggles. donghae answers her question about his ideal type and leans into his shoulder so slightly, no one else can tell.
-
The door swings in, screeching. It hurts his ears. The boy stands there. He laughs again. His eyes are shining, but he is not smiling. His eyes are the same color as Donghae’s, the same shape. There is blood red on the doorframe. He isn’t sure whether it’s from his finger or something else.
-
he looks at donghae’s smile. donghae is joking around with hyukjae, planning pranks, dropping puns. it reaches donghae’s eyes but it’s different. it’s not as good as donghae’s smile for him, not as full. he grins.
-
Hankyung sometimes asks him to set the table when they actually get a chance to all eat together. He puts out thirteen plates. Thirteen cups. Thirteen napkins. By the end of dinner one plate is clean. One cup is clean. One napkin is clean.
-
“please, please,” donghae pleads, fingers threaded through his hair, teeth biting his lip. “just-almost…” he feels donghae’s thighs twitch under his fingers, against his cheek.
-
He can see the outline of a person standing near the closet. His teeth chatter as he opens his mouth. The rattling noise sounds in his ear, shakes his body. He can finally blink but the person is gone.
-
donghae smiles up at him from the white sheets, white blanket, white pillow. he tries to ignore the white walls and red dots of blood on the handkerchief.
-
The leaves rustle behind him again. He steps inside the house and the little boy closes the door. The boy laughs again but tears slip down his cheeks. They are full and round. The boy has stolen Donghae’s eyes. He wants to get them back and bring them back to Donghae.
-
“let’s make brownies!” donghae says. it’s eight in the morning. he starts looking for the box of batter but donghae pulls out a cookbook. “let’s do it the fun way.” it takes thirty minutes to find all the ingredients. he thinks it worth it when he spots a smudge of flour on donghae’s nose, wipes it off with his thumb.
-
He takes a step toward the little boy. The boy doesn’t move. He stops, shoulders falling slack. He turns and sees the blood on the floor for the first time. A pool of it. He can hear a fly buzz before it gets caught in a spider web. The rattling noise gets louder. He hadn’t realized it was there before. He doesn’t remember when the boy started screaming. He doesn’t remember when he started screaming.
-
he watches donghae dance around the studio, popping, locking, rapping. donghae wears a sweater he snagged from shindong’s closet. it’s huge, hangs half-way down donghae’s thighs. he thinks donghae still looks amazing, strides over to donghae, kisses donghae on the lips. donghae stop mid-step, almost trips over his own toes.
-
He still has goosebumps. Two arms are wrapped tight around him. He faintly recognizes the scent of Yesung’s soap. A crack of sunlight peaks from between the curtains. No one stands by the closet. His eyes are dry and ache. His fingers are still cold. “You were screaming,” Yesung says.
-
he doesn’t cry, watches with blank eyes as eeteuk sobs, hyukjae clutches sungmin’s hand, kangin bites his lip and throws a rose into the opening in the ground. siwon wraps an arm around his shoulder. his hands are in his pockets, balled into fists, fingernails digging into his palms.
-
His skin is dry. There are cuts along his calves where he scratches. He closes the door behind him as he leaves. The boy does not follow him. He walks through the trees, not sure which way to go.
-
he looks down at where donghae leans his head back against the couch. figures flash around the television screen, talking, dancing, laughing. he wraps his arm tighter around donghae’s shoulders, presses his cheek, mouth, against the top of donghae’s head, murmurs words into donghae’s hair.
-
“Life couldn’t get better~” Sungmin sings under his breath. He opens his mouth, tries to breath. It doesn’t work. He can only hear the rattling, scraping.