021.
Ten years down the track, after Super Junior (and Super Junior H and Super Junior T and Super Junior M and Super Junior KRY), Sungmin opens a hair salon. Ryeowook is his first customer.
Sungmin combs his hands through Ryeowook's shoulder length hair, eyes lowered as he brushes the fringe out of Ryeowook's eyes, clipping it back.
"How're you?" Sungmin asks softly, and Ryeowook smiles.
"Good." The sunlight catches one of the cars' on the street, bouncing off the salon's mirror. Ryeowook closes his eyes. "You?"
Sungmin nods, taking a clip from his apron and leaving the bottom layer untouched.
"Alright. You want it short, right?"
Ryeowook nods, minuscule. Sungmin's fingers are soothing.
"How short?" Ryeowook squints, sees Sungmin's hands somewhere around his ear, and he shrugs.
"Whatever. I trust you."
Sungmin smiles before he gets his water bottle, spraying Ryeowook's hair and squeezing out the remaining moisture.
It's a nice silence as the cars rush by, curious passerbys looking in occasionally.
"Is that--" Sungmin hears, but he turns his back to the door, the closed sign swinging gently.
"It can't be, I heard he was in Japan--"
"SHHHH!"
Sungmin looks over and gives them a smile. He nudges Ryeowook, who cracks open an eye and waves before closing his eyes again.
"What've you been doing?" Sungmin asks. "I seemed to have lost contact with everyone after the army." He laughs, and Ryeowook leans back into his touch, liking the sound.
"Alright. Composed a bit before I went back home and helped out a bit. Hung out with Kyuhyun a bit, but I lost contact with everyone as well."
Sungmin hums as he cuts the bottom layer short, his scissors snipping quietly.
"How about Jongwoon? Still talk to him?"
Ryeowook freezes, arms going stiff and his back straightening.
"Jongwoon? No."
Sungmin lets the next layer down, cutting it quietly, thoughtful.
"Did something between you two?"
"No." Ryeowook's answer is curt, short. Almost abrupt, but Sungmin can't help but admit he's curious.
"You sure? Don't want to talk about it?"
Ryeowook nods, eyes clenched and body tense, hands clutching the arm rests under the cover.
Sungmin hums, thoughtful, as he measures the length and lets the next layer down, cutting it thoughtfully.
"How about Henry, talked to him recently?"
A small smile breaks out on Ryeowook's face, and he says, "Yeah, he's a good kid. You know he went back to Canada and studied before opening his own music shop?"
Sungmin knows this -- he's visited the shop. Henry gives him free guitar picks because he brings in the customers.
"Hyung is still so popular," Henry says, laughing.
"Darling~ I'm a whore only for you." Sungmin blows him a kiss and pouts attractively. They take photos with the fangirls, signing guitars and violins, enjoying it the whole time.
"He's a good kid," Sungmin agrees. "Do you want to dye your hair?"
"Just brown."
Sungmin nods before brushing Ryeowook's fringe back down, smoothing it over his eyes.
"Short, right?"
"Short."
It's quiet as Sungmin tries to avoid poking Ryeowook's eye, fringe just above his eyebrows.
"Open your eyes." Ryeowook does so. "Is that okay?" He shrugs and then nods.
Sungmin grabs the bottle again, spraying Ryeowook's right side. He cuts slowly, being careful.
"Jongwoon," he says, and ignores how Ryeowook tenses. "No, what happened?"
Ryeowook's quiet as he counts the silent seconds as they pass by.
"You don't want to know." Sungmin puts his scissors down before going over to the entrance, pulling the blinds back into place. The place is suddenly dim, and he turns on the lights.
"I do. Tell me." He sits in another chair, turning it Ryeowook's way. Ryeowook reaches up and brushes his hair out of the way before facing Sungmin. He clears his throat.
"Remember the last year of promos?"
Sungmin does. It was a rush of training and dancing, singing and recording, performances and little to no sleep and eating.
"Yeah, why?"
Ryeowook takes a breath, looking down at his lap where his hair puddles. He taps it from underneath the cloth, watching as it falls to the floor.
"Jongwoon, he. How do I say this?" Ryeowook frowns. "We were close. You know that and I know that; everyone knew that. But. He changed in that year." Ryeowook shakes his head, and Sungmin creeps forward, taking one of Ryeowook's hands.
"Changed how?" he asks softly.
Ryeowook takes a breath before expelling it. His hair is longer on his left side than his right. "You know we always did fanservice together. Like it was our thing, like you do with, um, everyone."
"Right, yeah. So?"
"Fanservice. It was just onstage, in front of the cameras, whatever. But he started getting weird. Like, really weird. He'd go." Ryeowook clears his throat. "'Ryeowookie~ Do you want to practise fanservice now~' when we were home. 'Ryeowookie~ I love you~ Does that sound right, does that sound real?' Like fuck if I know, it's just fake anyway."
Sungmin clenches his hand tight.
"And?"
Ryeowook plays with Sungmin's hand, playing with the fingers gently as he clears his throat again.
"And yeah. Um, it went further. He started groping me a lot, lot more. You know what fanservice is like; it just a hug or a grope for like a few seconds, and then it's done. A peck on the cheek, dancing against each other. Nothing big, just small. But..."
Ryeowook drops Sungmin's hand and crosses his arms, rubbing his arms slowly.
"But?" Sungmin prompts.
"But it went further. More than just that, he'd try to kiss me on the mouth, or he'd dance, no, grind on me during performances. Touch my ass for, for I don't know. I didn't count. But it felt like ages, it felt. Bad. Wrong. Like, I don't know."
Sungmin can see what he doesn't want to say, what he means. Fucker.
"So he, what, he almost raped you?"
Ryeowook pauses, biting his lip.
"It wasn't rape, he didn't do that. But he'd try, you know. He'd try come into the bathroom when I was showering, or if I was alone in the kitchen. You know, I'd try get Kyuhyun to hang around so Jongwoon wouldn't try anything, but, you know, you can't help it in the shower. Or Kyuhyun wouldn't be home, he'd be out doing something or like."
Ryeowook falls quiet, and Sungmin, god, he can't believe Jongwoon had the nerve to do it.
"So he liked you?"
Ryeowook makes a small sound of protest in his throat. "If you can call it that."
"He basically raped you -- why didn't you tell anyone? We could've done something about it."
He shakes his head, fingers playing with the edge of the cloth.
"No, I thought. I thought it was part of my imagination, that I was just being paranoid. It was only a year anyway -- promos would be over, he'd go off to the army, I don't know. I don't know why I didn't but. It doesn't make a difference, right?"
Sungmin shakes his head slowly before he stands and spins Ryeowook's chair back around, facing the mirror. He stands behind Ryeowook, grabbing his scissors and cutting the left side so it's even, before he comes his hands through Ryeowook's hair. Ryeowook watches him in the mirror before he looks up to Sungmin's face.
"It makes a difference, Ryeowook. You deserve better than that."
Sungmin combs his hands through Ryeowook's shoulder length hair, eyes lowered as he brushes the fringe out of Ryeowook's eyes, clipping it back.
"How're you?" Sungmin asks softly, and Ryeowook smiles.
"Good." The sunlight catches one of the cars' on the street, bouncing off the salon's mirror. Ryeowook closes his eyes. "You?"
Sungmin nods, taking a clip from his apron and leaving the bottom layer untouched.
"Alright. You want it short, right?"
Ryeowook nods, minuscule. Sungmin's fingers are soothing.
"How short?" Ryeowook squints, sees Sungmin's hands somewhere around his ear, and he shrugs.
"Whatever. I trust you."
Sungmin smiles before he gets his water bottle, spraying Ryeowook's hair and squeezing out the remaining moisture.
It's a nice silence as the cars rush by, curious passerbys looking in occasionally.
"Is that--" Sungmin hears, but he turns his back to the door, the closed sign swinging gently.
"It can't be, I heard he was in Japan--"
"SHHHH!"
Sungmin looks over and gives them a smile. He nudges Ryeowook, who cracks open an eye and waves before closing his eyes again.
"What've you been doing?" Sungmin asks. "I seemed to have lost contact with everyone after the army." He laughs, and Ryeowook leans back into his touch, liking the sound.
"Alright. Composed a bit before I went back home and helped out a bit. Hung out with Kyuhyun a bit, but I lost contact with everyone as well."
Sungmin hums as he cuts the bottom layer short, his scissors snipping quietly.
"How about Jongwoon? Still talk to him?"
Ryeowook freezes, arms going stiff and his back straightening.
"Jongwoon? No."
Sungmin lets the next layer down, cutting it quietly, thoughtful.
"Did something between you two?"
"No." Ryeowook's answer is curt, short. Almost abrupt, but Sungmin can't help but admit he's curious.
"You sure? Don't want to talk about it?"
Ryeowook nods, eyes clenched and body tense, hands clutching the arm rests under the cover.
Sungmin hums, thoughtful, as he measures the length and lets the next layer down, cutting it thoughtfully.
"How about Henry, talked to him recently?"
A small smile breaks out on Ryeowook's face, and he says, "Yeah, he's a good kid. You know he went back to Canada and studied before opening his own music shop?"
Sungmin knows this -- he's visited the shop. Henry gives him free guitar picks because he brings in the customers.
"Hyung is still so popular," Henry says, laughing.
"Darling~ I'm a whore only for you." Sungmin blows him a kiss and pouts attractively. They take photos with the fangirls, signing guitars and violins, enjoying it the whole time.
"He's a good kid," Sungmin agrees. "Do you want to dye your hair?"
"Just brown."
Sungmin nods before brushing Ryeowook's fringe back down, smoothing it over his eyes.
"Short, right?"
"Short."
It's quiet as Sungmin tries to avoid poking Ryeowook's eye, fringe just above his eyebrows.
"Open your eyes." Ryeowook does so. "Is that okay?" He shrugs and then nods.
Sungmin grabs the bottle again, spraying Ryeowook's right side. He cuts slowly, being careful.
"Jongwoon," he says, and ignores how Ryeowook tenses. "No, what happened?"
Ryeowook's quiet as he counts the silent seconds as they pass by.
"You don't want to know." Sungmin puts his scissors down before going over to the entrance, pulling the blinds back into place. The place is suddenly dim, and he turns on the lights.
"I do. Tell me." He sits in another chair, turning it Ryeowook's way. Ryeowook reaches up and brushes his hair out of the way before facing Sungmin. He clears his throat.
"Remember the last year of promos?"
Sungmin does. It was a rush of training and dancing, singing and recording, performances and little to no sleep and eating.
"Yeah, why?"
Ryeowook takes a breath, looking down at his lap where his hair puddles. He taps it from underneath the cloth, watching as it falls to the floor.
"Jongwoon, he. How do I say this?" Ryeowook frowns. "We were close. You know that and I know that; everyone knew that. But. He changed in that year." Ryeowook shakes his head, and Sungmin creeps forward, taking one of Ryeowook's hands.
"Changed how?" he asks softly.
Ryeowook takes a breath before expelling it. His hair is longer on his left side than his right. "You know we always did fanservice together. Like it was our thing, like you do with, um, everyone."
"Right, yeah. So?"
"Fanservice. It was just onstage, in front of the cameras, whatever. But he started getting weird. Like, really weird. He'd go." Ryeowook clears his throat. "'Ryeowookie~ Do you want to practise fanservice now~' when we were home. 'Ryeowookie~ I love you~ Does that sound right, does that sound real?' Like fuck if I know, it's just fake anyway."
Sungmin clenches his hand tight.
"And?"
Ryeowook plays with Sungmin's hand, playing with the fingers gently as he clears his throat again.
"And yeah. Um, it went further. He started groping me a lot, lot more. You know what fanservice is like; it just a hug or a grope for like a few seconds, and then it's done. A peck on the cheek, dancing against each other. Nothing big, just small. But..."
Ryeowook drops Sungmin's hand and crosses his arms, rubbing his arms slowly.
"But?" Sungmin prompts.
"But it went further. More than just that, he'd try to kiss me on the mouth, or he'd dance, no, grind on me during performances. Touch my ass for, for I don't know. I didn't count. But it felt like ages, it felt. Bad. Wrong. Like, I don't know."
Sungmin can see what he doesn't want to say, what he means. Fucker.
"So he, what, he almost raped you?"
Ryeowook pauses, biting his lip.
"It wasn't rape, he didn't do that. But he'd try, you know. He'd try come into the bathroom when I was showering, or if I was alone in the kitchen. You know, I'd try get Kyuhyun to hang around so Jongwoon wouldn't try anything, but, you know, you can't help it in the shower. Or Kyuhyun wouldn't be home, he'd be out doing something or like."
Ryeowook falls quiet, and Sungmin, god, he can't believe Jongwoon had the nerve to do it.
"So he liked you?"
Ryeowook makes a small sound of protest in his throat. "If you can call it that."
"He basically raped you -- why didn't you tell anyone? We could've done something about it."
He shakes his head, fingers playing with the edge of the cloth.
"No, I thought. I thought it was part of my imagination, that I was just being paranoid. It was only a year anyway -- promos would be over, he'd go off to the army, I don't know. I don't know why I didn't but. It doesn't make a difference, right?"
Sungmin shakes his head slowly before he stands and spins Ryeowook's chair back around, facing the mirror. He stands behind Ryeowook, grabbing his scissors and cutting the left side so it's even, before he comes his hands through Ryeowook's hair. Ryeowook watches him in the mirror before he looks up to Sungmin's face.
"It makes a difference, Ryeowook. You deserve better than that."