Title: The Eyes Have It
Fandom: Super Junior M RPS
Pairing: Eunhyuk/Sungmin
Rating: PG
Summary: Sungmin needs some help putting on his eyeliner. Eunhyuk assists.
Notes: Written for the ‘bodies and body parts’ square for kink_bingo. Set after the Golden Show appearance.
The Eyes Have It
Eunhyuk is wandering past Sungmin’s room when he hears his voice, soft and hesitant, call out “Brother?”
Of course Sungmin doesn’t have x-ray vision, can’t tell who’s on the other side of the door, but Eunhyuk’s a little upset that his footsteps aren’t immediately recognisable. Still, he pushes open the door and peeks in. “Yeah?”
Sungmin blinks at him from the chair in front of the dressing-table. “Oh,” he says, and smiles. “It’s you.”
Eunhyuk ponders on all the ramifications of that bland statement. The smile-Sungmin has the sweetest, most honest smile he’s ever seen-plus the ‘It’s you’ is surely a good sign. At least it is until he considers the involuntary ‘Oh’ that preceded it, which could mean that Sungmin is disappointed to see him. Eunhyuk frets a little. Maybe Sungmin has taken to heart all those declarations of dislike on that television show.
Eunhyuk feels guilty. He’s really not very good at Mandarin, and though Zhou Mi exhorts them to learn and practice with all the tender care of a drill sergeant, Eunhyuk prepares for their TV appearances by learning a few stock phrases that he hopes will carry him through the situation. “I don’t like you’ is easy enough to remember. It’s just unfortunate that Sungmin was most often on the receiving end of that phrase.
“Listen,” he says, slouching into the room with his hands in his pockets, “it’s not like I meant it, okay? I do like you.”
Sungmin’s eyes-his pretty, pretty eyes-widen. His lips purse in confusion. “And I like you. What are you talking about?”
“Nothing.” Now Eunhyuk feels like a dork. “What did you want?”
“Is it not obvious?” Sungmin makes a graceful gesture towards his face-no, his eyes-and Eunhyuk stares, and decides that the reason he’s felt a bit uncomfortable since he came into the room is because Sungmin’s eyeliner is wonky, and it’s only around one eye, which makes him look weird.
And then Eunhyuk goes closer and looks again, and he notices the balled-up tissues on the dresser and the open tub of face cream and the pencil sharpener and three different pencil eyeliners plus a liquid liner, and he says “Oh yeah. Right.” He looks at Sungmin’s curled hands, then back at the makeup. Clearly Sungmin is expecting some kind of response from him, but Eunhyuk has no clue what it should be. “You want me to...”
“You’re so slow,” Sungmin says with a sigh, but it’s affectionate all the same. “Help me with my eyeliner. I can’t seem to get it right.”
Eunhyuk bends down. “It seems fine to me,” he says, not wanting to mention that it looks a bit, well, untidy.
Sungmin frowns. “No, it’s wrong. And I’ve irritated my skin by cleaning off too many crappy attempts.” He pouts and gazes up at Eunhyuk in an endearing way. “Please help me.”
“Okay.” Eunhyuk’s proud of how level his voice sounds, how normal. He’s not sure he’ll be able to make-up Sungmin’s eyes, not without his hands trembling, and he has a brief mental image of Sungmin with kohl scribbled all over his face. It’s not the sort of thing to inspire confidence. Eunhyuk clears his throat and picks up the liquid liner. “This one?”
“No, this one.” Sungmin gives him one of the pencils. The point looks wicked. Eunhyuk grunts at it, breaks off the tip with a fingernail. He flattens the point a little, ignoring Sungmin’s muttered comment that he’d only just sharpened that, then takes Sungmin’s chin in his hand and tilts back his head.
“Hold still,” he says. Unnecessarily, as it turns out, because the moment they touch, Sungmin sits very straight and is absolutely motionless.
Except for his eyes. They widen, and the pupils contract-with nervousness, Eunhyuk supposes-and they seem to blaze. Really, Sungmin has beautiful eyes. They’re like the rest of him, all soft curves. Sounds stupid, but that’s what Eunhyuk likes best about him. The curves. The softness. Sungmin usually looks at Eunhyuk with softness, too. But not now. Now there’s no softness, just... watchfulness.
“You can start whenever you’re ready,” Sungmin says.
“Huh? Oh.” Eunhyuk drags his attention back to the task at hand. He lifts the pencil, resting it between his fingers, fingertips close to the blunted point so he can guide it with confidence. “Okay. Ready.”
“Try and-try and get a thicker line at the outside and barely anything on the inside.” Sungmin’s voice has gone all breathy. “I want it sort of Egyptian on the outside.”
“Okay.” Eunhyuk thinks he can do that. “Here goes.” He moves closer and touches the pencil to the underside of Sungmin’s right eye, the one that has the squiggly outline. “I’m going to fix this for you.”
Sungmin makes a soft sound. He focuses his gaze on Eunhyuk.
Eunhyuk strokes the pencil along, angling it so the line widens at the outer edge of Sungmin’s eye, drawing an upwards flick and filling it in. He’s amazed his hand is so steady. He’s astonished by the length of Sungmin’s lashes, by their feathery thickness. He’s aware, very aware, of Sungmin’s soft, rapid breaths. Perhaps Sungmin really is scared that he’ll get poked in the eye.
“Finished,” Eunhyuk says. “Take a look.” He steps back, allows Sungmin to swing around in the chair and study his reflection in the mirror. Eunhyuk’s hands are shaking, and he clenches them into fists behind his back.
Sungmin tilts his head. Smiles. “I like it. Can you do the other eye?”
“Sure.” Eunhyuk waits for Sungmin to settle again before he lifts the pencil. This will be harder, with no guiding lines for him to follow. The angle is awkward, too, with the way Sungmin’s sitting, and Eunhyuk makes three attempts at positioning himself before Sungmin sighs again and shifts the chair around.
“You can sit on my knee,” he offers. “If it makes it easier, I mean.”
“Uh,” says Eunhyuk, and then adds, “Thanks.” He looks down at Sungmin’s lap and imagines the safest way to do this would be if he perched on the side of the chair. He makes a move to sit, but Sungmin tuts at him.
“Not like that.” Sungmin puts a hand on Eunhyuk’s thigh, pats it. “Sit on me. Astride me. Then you’ll be able to see what you’re doing.”
It’s a really good suggestion. Also a really bad one. Eunhyuk takes a deep breath and swings one leg over the chair then lowers himself onto Sungmin’s lap. Sungmin’s thighs tense beneath him.
Eunhyuk worries. “Am I too heavy?” he asks, ready to jump up.
“No.” Sungmin gives him one of those sweet smiles again. “I’m just not used to you sitting in my lap.”
It sounds like a come-on, but Eunhyuk knows Sungmin doesn’t mean it like that. Does he? Confusion rattles around Eunhyuk’s head. He remembers the eyeliner pencil and brandishes it with grateful relief. “I’m going to...”
Sungmin gazes up at him, wide-eyed and trusting and hopeful.
“I-uh-I’m going...” Eunhyuk gets lost in those eyes. “I’ll... Um, I...”
“You’ll finish my makeup?” Sungmin says for him.
“Right.” Eunhyuk pulls himself together. He can do this. He can pretend it’s not Sungmin trapped beneath him on the chair. He keeps telling himself this as he sweeps the pencil around Sungmin’s left eye. After the first tentative touch, he focuses on what he’s doing, notices the slight drag on the skin and the way Sungmin’s lashes flutter, and the smoothness of Sungmin’s cheek beneath the side of his hand, and Sungmin’s soft, caressing breaths against his fingers.
He’s disappointed when he’s finished. Eunhyuk holds the pencil away and leans back to check the effect. Sungmin looks stunning, eyes huge and brilliant and beautiful with the exaggeration of the kohl.
Sungmin closes his eyes, then slowly opens them as if his lids were heavy. He lifts his gaze to Eunhyuk again. “Well.”
“Oh,” says Eunhyuk, “you want the mirror.”
“No.” Sungmin’s smile is slow and wicked. “I don’t need a mirror to tell me how I look. I have you.”