listen to these words, kangin/leeteuk
Listen to these words
Kangin/Leeteuk; fluff, humour; PG-13; ~1300 words
I disclaim.
I'm back from Hong Kong, and I have Kangteuk fluff in my hands! :D Isn't that the best treasure anyone can ask for? /sighs blissfully. I figured we Kangteuk lovers needed this, since, well. :|
-
"Hyung?"
"Youngwoon." Leeteuk rarely calls Kangin by his stage name anymore. He doesn't see the need, since Kangin's stage persona is gone, for better or for worse. Truthfully, Leeteuk doesn't mind. Youngwoon, he knows, will stay forever.
"You free?" Kangin's voice is tentative, hesitant; it is a stupid question, after all. He, of all people, should know how terrible and incredibly busy schedules can get.
"And you're married," Leeteuk says drily, smothering a cough behind his hand. Eunhyuk looks at him worriedly and gestures to a glass of water on the table.
"Well, technically, I am," Kangin jokes, "to you, that is."
A smile tugs at the edges of Leeteuk's lips. "No, I'm not free," he admits woefully, "I have radio, remember? I should be done after that, though." He pauses, before asking carefully, "Why?"
"Oh, nothing," Kangin says lamely. Leeteuk rolls his eyes and Kangin, as if sensing the eye roll through the phone, continues, "I was thinking of having dinner with you. You know. Just the both of us. Mother-father time." Kangin tries hard to cover his embarrassment with a not-very-well-placed joke, and Leeteuk finds his smile growing wider.
"Why not, yuhbo?" He grins into the receiver as Eunhyuk raises his eyebrows questioningly, no doubt asking after Leeteuk's new spouse.
Kangin chuckles. "I'll pick you up, honey.' Leeteuk winces at the word, dripping with mirth and gooey sweetness, but can't stop the laughter from bubbling out. "Usual place?" Kangin suggests.
"Sure," Leeteuk manages, after composing himself with a brief flapping motion of his hand to his face. Eunhyuk starts making frantic hand gestures - Sukira is about to start.
They say their goodbyes, and Leeteuk would be lying if he told anyone that he hadn't floated through radio like a love sick idiot.
-
Kangin, Leeteuk decides, is like a well read book, filled with hidden meanings between well worded lines. A book like the ones he's seen in second hand book shops when he was young, crinkly with it's pages folded, and creased throughout the years. Books like these give off a particularly musty smell that Leeteuk can imagine drowning in; but sometimes he comes across a specific page and reads a certain line over, realises that he doesn't recall having read that line before. Sometimes he rereads a scene and discovers a new meaning behind it, perhaps because he hadn't paid enough attention the first time round. Most of the time, however, it's because the words are strung together in such a complex way that it alludes the original meaning entirely - but one thing's for sure, it's always been there. Spontaneous and familiar and intriguing all the same.
Leeteuk sometimes wonders if he makes sense.
"Why such a... a fancy place?" Leeteuk asks, spearing a fork through the meat on his place. Romantic had been on the tip of his tongue, but Leeteuk figured that using that term would be too weird. The chandelier above them flickers, relying on candles for light, and casts the place with a warm glow. He glances around and wonders how Kangin can afford to have them seated in such a private area, with nothing but the soft jazz music in the background and flitting waitresses to disturb them. Frankly speaking, the atmosphere makes Leeteuk drowsy.
Despite his obvious lack of sleep, Leeteuk doesn't miss the way Kangin's eyes dance in the light, the way his hands play with the napkin as if there is something pressing on his mind that he can't seem to express eloquently.
Swallowing a mouthful of food, Kangin's gaze darts to Leeteuk, his right, left, and back again. Something's fishy. "I'unno," he mumbles around another spoonful of rice he'd quickly stuffed in his mouth, "it's closest to the dorms?"
"It's going to cost a bomb," Leeteuk points out. Kangin nods, shrugging, and takes a sip of water.
"At least it's empty in here," Kangin tells Leeteuk. It's true, considering the fact that it is one in the goddamn morning. Leeteuk would much rather be back home washing the excessive amount of cosmetic product off his face. "Just... you know," Kangin finally continues, fingering his napkin again.
No, I really don't, Leeteuk thinks, and maybe it's just him or Kangin looks even more attractive now, sitting across him. Perhaps it's the years that they've spent together that helps Leeteuk look past the weight Kangin has gained.
"I miss you," Kangin admits quietly. He looks down with surprise written on his face when his napkin finally tears into two.
Leeteuk opens his mouth, tries to say something remotely intelligent. He knows what he should say, I miss you too; everyone does, but for unfathomable reasons, he can't. Reaching a hand out, Leeteuk touches his fingers to Kangin's, a gesture that speaks more than he has the ability to say, even though his mouth has always been his strongest point. He could sweet talk his way out of anything, and no one would know what hit them.
Turning his hand, Kangin curls his fingers, fits them into the spaces between Leeteuk's. Leeteuk remembers the first time they kissed, when their hearts jumped all over the place and pulses raced at double the usual rate. It was scary, terrifying even, when Kangin grasped Leeteuk's hands in his and pulled him close. They'd talked it through of course, but Leeteuk wasn't ready for it - he almost backed the hell away from Kangin. The close proximity left him a little breathless and more than a little excited, nervous, eager to close the small distance between them and taste Kangin's breath on his tongue. Eager to read into the open book that lay in front of him.
So Leeteuk leans forward over the table, unspoken words on his lips. When Kangin kisses him finally, finally - the first time in nearly six months - Leeteuk tastes the words Kangin meant, I love you.
Sucking on Leeteuk's bottom lip, Kangin flutters delicate kisses down the smooth curve of his jaw. He mouths Leeteuk's name under the lobe of his ear, whispering sweet sweet words, before trailing butterfly kisses over Leeteuk's cheek bone. Claiming his mouth again like it is a delicacy, sweet and sensuous, Kangin lifts his other hand to cup Leeteuk's face. Then he bites down, hard, on Leeteuk's bottom lip.
Jumping, startled, Leeteuk runs his tongue over the cut and lets out a muffled ow. They part, Kangin's gaze burning twin holes into Leeteuk's eyes. Leeteuk thinks he can stare into Kangin's eyes forever, curving down at the edges and sparkling in the candle light - like rich, expensive wine.
"I love you," Leeteuk mumbles, hand tightening on Kangin's. Kangin's eyes crinkle at the edges, and a thumb traces a brief heart over Leeteuk's knuckles - something he used to do after they collapsed atop each other, perspiration and each others' names written on their skin.
A cough from Leeteuk's right interrupts the comfortable silence. Instincts kicking in, Leeteuk snatches his hand back and turns to his right with a charming smile. After the waitress is gone, Kangin laughs, a deep rumble that washes over Leeteuk like a wave of electricity. He misses hearing Kangin's laughter in the morning, or at night, or right next to his ear after a day of tiring smiles and laughter and practiced words.
"So," Kangin starts, discreetly reaching for Leeteuk's hand beneath the table, "how are the kids doing?"
-
Kangin, Leeteuk decides, cannot be compared to anything material. Kangin is Kangin, Kangin is Youngwoon, Youngwoon is Youngwoon, and not even the slyest manager or CEO or whoever can change him for who he is.
-
Yuhbo: a term spouses call each other.
DYING FROM THE CHEESE, ROFL.
Kangin/Leeteuk; fluff, humour; PG-13; ~1300 words
I disclaim.
I'm back from Hong Kong, and I have Kangteuk fluff in my hands! :D Isn't that the best treasure anyone can ask for? /sighs blissfully. I figured we Kangteuk lovers needed this, since, well. :|
-
"Hyung?"
"Youngwoon." Leeteuk rarely calls Kangin by his stage name anymore. He doesn't see the need, since Kangin's stage persona is gone, for better or for worse. Truthfully, Leeteuk doesn't mind. Youngwoon, he knows, will stay forever.
"You free?" Kangin's voice is tentative, hesitant; it is a stupid question, after all. He, of all people, should know how terrible and incredibly busy schedules can get.
"And you're married," Leeteuk says drily, smothering a cough behind his hand. Eunhyuk looks at him worriedly and gestures to a glass of water on the table.
"Well, technically, I am," Kangin jokes, "to you, that is."
A smile tugs at the edges of Leeteuk's lips. "No, I'm not free," he admits woefully, "I have radio, remember? I should be done after that, though." He pauses, before asking carefully, "Why?"
"Oh, nothing," Kangin says lamely. Leeteuk rolls his eyes and Kangin, as if sensing the eye roll through the phone, continues, "I was thinking of having dinner with you. You know. Just the both of us. Mother-father time." Kangin tries hard to cover his embarrassment with a not-very-well-placed joke, and Leeteuk finds his smile growing wider.
"Why not, yuhbo?" He grins into the receiver as Eunhyuk raises his eyebrows questioningly, no doubt asking after Leeteuk's new spouse.
Kangin chuckles. "I'll pick you up, honey.' Leeteuk winces at the word, dripping with mirth and gooey sweetness, but can't stop the laughter from bubbling out. "Usual place?" Kangin suggests.
"Sure," Leeteuk manages, after composing himself with a brief flapping motion of his hand to his face. Eunhyuk starts making frantic hand gestures - Sukira is about to start.
They say their goodbyes, and Leeteuk would be lying if he told anyone that he hadn't floated through radio like a love sick idiot.
-
Kangin, Leeteuk decides, is like a well read book, filled with hidden meanings between well worded lines. A book like the ones he's seen in second hand book shops when he was young, crinkly with it's pages folded, and creased throughout the years. Books like these give off a particularly musty smell that Leeteuk can imagine drowning in; but sometimes he comes across a specific page and reads a certain line over, realises that he doesn't recall having read that line before. Sometimes he rereads a scene and discovers a new meaning behind it, perhaps because he hadn't paid enough attention the first time round. Most of the time, however, it's because the words are strung together in such a complex way that it alludes the original meaning entirely - but one thing's for sure, it's always been there. Spontaneous and familiar and intriguing all the same.
Leeteuk sometimes wonders if he makes sense.
"Why such a... a fancy place?" Leeteuk asks, spearing a fork through the meat on his place. Romantic had been on the tip of his tongue, but Leeteuk figured that using that term would be too weird. The chandelier above them flickers, relying on candles for light, and casts the place with a warm glow. He glances around and wonders how Kangin can afford to have them seated in such a private area, with nothing but the soft jazz music in the background and flitting waitresses to disturb them. Frankly speaking, the atmosphere makes Leeteuk drowsy.
Despite his obvious lack of sleep, Leeteuk doesn't miss the way Kangin's eyes dance in the light, the way his hands play with the napkin as if there is something pressing on his mind that he can't seem to express eloquently.
Swallowing a mouthful of food, Kangin's gaze darts to Leeteuk, his right, left, and back again. Something's fishy. "I'unno," he mumbles around another spoonful of rice he'd quickly stuffed in his mouth, "it's closest to the dorms?"
"It's going to cost a bomb," Leeteuk points out. Kangin nods, shrugging, and takes a sip of water.
"At least it's empty in here," Kangin tells Leeteuk. It's true, considering the fact that it is one in the goddamn morning. Leeteuk would much rather be back home washing the excessive amount of cosmetic product off his face. "Just... you know," Kangin finally continues, fingering his napkin again.
No, I really don't, Leeteuk thinks, and maybe it's just him or Kangin looks even more attractive now, sitting across him. Perhaps it's the years that they've spent together that helps Leeteuk look past the weight Kangin has gained.
"I miss you," Kangin admits quietly. He looks down with surprise written on his face when his napkin finally tears into two.
Leeteuk opens his mouth, tries to say something remotely intelligent. He knows what he should say, I miss you too; everyone does, but for unfathomable reasons, he can't. Reaching a hand out, Leeteuk touches his fingers to Kangin's, a gesture that speaks more than he has the ability to say, even though his mouth has always been his strongest point. He could sweet talk his way out of anything, and no one would know what hit them.
Turning his hand, Kangin curls his fingers, fits them into the spaces between Leeteuk's. Leeteuk remembers the first time they kissed, when their hearts jumped all over the place and pulses raced at double the usual rate. It was scary, terrifying even, when Kangin grasped Leeteuk's hands in his and pulled him close. They'd talked it through of course, but Leeteuk wasn't ready for it - he almost backed the hell away from Kangin. The close proximity left him a little breathless and more than a little excited, nervous, eager to close the small distance between them and taste Kangin's breath on his tongue. Eager to read into the open book that lay in front of him.
So Leeteuk leans forward over the table, unspoken words on his lips. When Kangin kisses him finally, finally - the first time in nearly six months - Leeteuk tastes the words Kangin meant, I love you.
Sucking on Leeteuk's bottom lip, Kangin flutters delicate kisses down the smooth curve of his jaw. He mouths Leeteuk's name under the lobe of his ear, whispering sweet sweet words, before trailing butterfly kisses over Leeteuk's cheek bone. Claiming his mouth again like it is a delicacy, sweet and sensuous, Kangin lifts his other hand to cup Leeteuk's face. Then he bites down, hard, on Leeteuk's bottom lip.
Jumping, startled, Leeteuk runs his tongue over the cut and lets out a muffled ow. They part, Kangin's gaze burning twin holes into Leeteuk's eyes. Leeteuk thinks he can stare into Kangin's eyes forever, curving down at the edges and sparkling in the candle light - like rich, expensive wine.
"I love you," Leeteuk mumbles, hand tightening on Kangin's. Kangin's eyes crinkle at the edges, and a thumb traces a brief heart over Leeteuk's knuckles - something he used to do after they collapsed atop each other, perspiration and each others' names written on their skin.
A cough from Leeteuk's right interrupts the comfortable silence. Instincts kicking in, Leeteuk snatches his hand back and turns to his right with a charming smile. After the waitress is gone, Kangin laughs, a deep rumble that washes over Leeteuk like a wave of electricity. He misses hearing Kangin's laughter in the morning, or at night, or right next to his ear after a day of tiring smiles and laughter and practiced words.
"So," Kangin starts, discreetly reaching for Leeteuk's hand beneath the table, "how are the kids doing?"
-
Kangin, Leeteuk decides, cannot be compared to anything material. Kangin is Kangin, Kangin is Youngwoon, Youngwoon is Youngwoon, and not even the slyest manager or CEO or whoever can change him for who he is.
-
Yuhbo: a term spouses call each other.
DYING FROM THE CHEESE, ROFL.