80
Here Tonight
Super Junior (CinHan)
663 words. Third person. PG-13. Follows directly after Compliments of.
Heechul weaves unsteadily down the hall, trailing his fingers over the white wall, humming quietly to himself. He pauses in front of the entrance to his room, blinking at the darkened doorway, but keeps walking until he reaches the room at the end of the hall, closest to the bathroom. His fingers press into the molding, and he leans against the door frame, letting his forehead fall against the closed door with a soft thump.
“Hannniieee,” he whines, voice stretching the syllables until they are more vowel than anything else. “Hannie, open your door,” he whines, pouting.
“It’s not locked,” Hankyung says as he pulls the door open, and Heechul stumbles into him, giggling as Hankyung has to take a few steps back to catch him.
“That’s okay,” he says, fisting his hand into the arm of Hankyung’s shirt and peering up at him. “I didn’t check.” He’s leaning most of his weight against Hankyung already, an arm around his waist holding him up, the other on his shoulder keeping him steady. He watches Hankyung’s eyes widen in surprise, and he giggles again the shocked expression.
“You’re drunk,” Hankyung says, like it’s not obvious, and Heechul just laughs at him, leaning in with enough force to cause Hankyung to take a step back or fall over. Hankyung pulls his hands away, but that just causes Heechul to collapse against him, no longer held up by Hankyung’s arms.
“Well, yeah,” Heechul says, pressing his face against Hankyung’s chest, laughing against his cotton tank top, free hand coming up to curl into the hem. “That was kind of the point.” His voice is muffled, and he can hear Hankyung’s sharp inhalation. He wonders if it’s the heat of his breath against Hankyung’s chest, but he doesn’t ask. He just presses his cheek there, and slides his fingers up under Hankyung’s shirt.
“H-Heechul,” Hankyung stutters, trying to step back, but Heechul just follows him, his feet tripping over the carpet. He giggles again, presses his mouth to Hankyung’s rib cage through his shirt and bites down, wetting the cotton with his tongue. Hankyung makes a sound that’s half gasp and half moan, and stumbles backward again, only to run into his bed. It hits the back of his knees and he falls backward, sprawling on the comforter. Heechul tumbles with him, landing on top, still grinning and giggling.
“Hi,” Heechul says, and pushes both of his hands under Hankyung’s shirt. Hankyung gasps, and wriggles, but Heechul throws a leg over his thigh, tangling their feet together.
“Heechul,” Hankyung says again, but Heechul licks a stripe up the center of his stomach, tongue dipping into his belly button, and Hankyung stops talking with a quick breath.
“See?” Heechul says, looking up at Hankyung’s face, his wide eyes, his mouth slightly open, chin pressed to his bare stomach, “it’s no big deal.” His fingers press into Hankyung’s ribs and splay there, like he’s trying to touch as much skin as possible.
“Heechul, you are drunk,” Hankyung starts, but Heechul just bites into his stomach and digs his fingernails in between Hankyung’s ribs. Hankyung stops talking with a wince, and Heechul grins.
“You said that already,” Heechul points out with a yawn, fingers stroking over the crescents his fingernails left in Hankyung’s skin. “And you’re comfortable.” Hankyung’s stomach is warm under his cheek, and Heechul lets his eyes slide closed, Hankyung’s body rising and falling under him as he breathes.
“You’re not falling asleep, Heechul, are you?” Hankyung asks, and Heechul can feel fingers in his hair, stroking, but everything is far away. Chinese words in his ears, unfamiliar but silky smooth, soothing.
“No,” he says, belated, but the syllable comes out sloppy and unfinished, mumbled against bare skin, and he swears the he can hear Hankyung laugh, feel it under his ear, ringing like soft chimes.
“’Night, Heechul,” Hankyung says, fingers still tangled in Heechul’s hair. Heechul mutters something that means nothing, and lets his breathing even out.
Super Junior (CinHan)
663 words. Third person. PG-13. Follows directly after Compliments of.
Heechul weaves unsteadily down the hall, trailing his fingers over the white wall, humming quietly to himself. He pauses in front of the entrance to his room, blinking at the darkened doorway, but keeps walking until he reaches the room at the end of the hall, closest to the bathroom. His fingers press into the molding, and he leans against the door frame, letting his forehead fall against the closed door with a soft thump.
“Hannniieee,” he whines, voice stretching the syllables until they are more vowel than anything else. “Hannie, open your door,” he whines, pouting.
“It’s not locked,” Hankyung says as he pulls the door open, and Heechul stumbles into him, giggling as Hankyung has to take a few steps back to catch him.
“That’s okay,” he says, fisting his hand into the arm of Hankyung’s shirt and peering up at him. “I didn’t check.” He’s leaning most of his weight against Hankyung already, an arm around his waist holding him up, the other on his shoulder keeping him steady. He watches Hankyung’s eyes widen in surprise, and he giggles again the shocked expression.
“You’re drunk,” Hankyung says, like it’s not obvious, and Heechul just laughs at him, leaning in with enough force to cause Hankyung to take a step back or fall over. Hankyung pulls his hands away, but that just causes Heechul to collapse against him, no longer held up by Hankyung’s arms.
“Well, yeah,” Heechul says, pressing his face against Hankyung’s chest, laughing against his cotton tank top, free hand coming up to curl into the hem. “That was kind of the point.” His voice is muffled, and he can hear Hankyung’s sharp inhalation. He wonders if it’s the heat of his breath against Hankyung’s chest, but he doesn’t ask. He just presses his cheek there, and slides his fingers up under Hankyung’s shirt.
“H-Heechul,” Hankyung stutters, trying to step back, but Heechul just follows him, his feet tripping over the carpet. He giggles again, presses his mouth to Hankyung’s rib cage through his shirt and bites down, wetting the cotton with his tongue. Hankyung makes a sound that’s half gasp and half moan, and stumbles backward again, only to run into his bed. It hits the back of his knees and he falls backward, sprawling on the comforter. Heechul tumbles with him, landing on top, still grinning and giggling.
“Hi,” Heechul says, and pushes both of his hands under Hankyung’s shirt. Hankyung gasps, and wriggles, but Heechul throws a leg over his thigh, tangling their feet together.
“Heechul,” Hankyung says again, but Heechul licks a stripe up the center of his stomach, tongue dipping into his belly button, and Hankyung stops talking with a quick breath.
“See?” Heechul says, looking up at Hankyung’s face, his wide eyes, his mouth slightly open, chin pressed to his bare stomach, “it’s no big deal.” His fingers press into Hankyung’s ribs and splay there, like he’s trying to touch as much skin as possible.
“Heechul, you are drunk,” Hankyung starts, but Heechul just bites into his stomach and digs his fingernails in between Hankyung’s ribs. Hankyung stops talking with a wince, and Heechul grins.
“You said that already,” Heechul points out with a yawn, fingers stroking over the crescents his fingernails left in Hankyung’s skin. “And you’re comfortable.” Hankyung’s stomach is warm under his cheek, and Heechul lets his eyes slide closed, Hankyung’s body rising and falling under him as he breathes.
“You’re not falling asleep, Heechul, are you?” Hankyung asks, and Heechul can feel fingers in his hair, stroking, but everything is far away. Chinese words in his ears, unfamiliar but silky smooth, soothing.
“No,” he says, belated, but the syllable comes out sloppy and unfinished, mumbled against bare skin, and he swears the he can hear Hankyung laugh, feel it under his ear, ringing like soft chimes.
“’Night, Heechul,” Hankyung says, fingers still tangled in Heechul’s hair. Heechul mutters something that means nothing, and lets his breathing even out.