Super Junior (AU); The Difference Between Pawns and Kings; [3/__ ]
Title: The Difference Between Pawns and Kings [3/__ ]
Fandom: Super Junior
Chapter Pairings: SiChul Hankyung cameo
Word Count: 1949 (party like its 19--okay ill stop.)
Chapter Rating: R
Overall Summary: The secluded world of South Korea has decayed and it's largest city, Seoul, has fractioned into two seperate halves: the kings and the pawns. Society is different; life is different. People struggle to survive in both worlds, either smothered by the rules of the city or the despair of the slums. The lucky ones managing to balance between the two extreems watch their friends suffer or survive, take or be taken. Still, life churns on, and no matter what hand you have been dealt, you must play the game.
Chapter Summary: Heechul wakes up in Siwon's apartment.
Genre: AU
A/N: I KNOW. MY CHAPTER SUMMARIES. SUCK. but i dont want to give anything away~...and i know im posting RIDICULOUSLY LATE im sorry TTOTT i got distracted from schm0use's slut!hyuk. I swear she's going to write me porn one day. (yes its going to happen, schm0use, get over it.) GUH okay im sorry, ill try to be better at posting. also, im considering changing post days to Thursdays, possibly. I dont know. We'll see how this chapter goes. Also, im thinking about doing one-liner requests. Thoughts? Feedback? Lemme know if you would want to request; depending on how many "yes plz do this"'s i get, ill think about doing it. It sounds fun ^_^. AND OMG TWO HOURS OF YOGA I CANT EVEN MOVE TTOTT. who the fuck is at the door. oh its my roommate and her boyfriend. fuck my life, kthanks. >:[ (also, im missing a basketball game i told my friend i would go to. i feel like a bad person (theres more tomorrow, ill go to those) TT^TT
[1] [2]
Siwon remembers the wrenching feeling in his chest as he looked down the alleyway, the pressing sting of hyperventilation as dread gripped his lungs. He remembers running, slowly from shock, at first, and then frantically, arms shooting out to push against the dirty brick walls of the alley to push him just that much faster, that much closer. He remembers stumbling, falling, scrambling to his knees besides the pale limp form. He remembers how cold, how chillingly, terrifyingly cold Heechul’s skin was as he pulled him into his arms, hands grabbing at his face, gripping his jaw and turning Heechul’s face roughly towards his, cradling the other man limp in his arms.
He remembers the streak of blood covering most of Heechul’s face, the cut, swollen, purpling lip and the large bruise under his left eye. He remembers the whiteness of his skin, the damp of his hair as it lay plastered on his forehead, sticky with the heavy scent of blood. He remembers pushing aside the dark locks with his fingers, following the dark red trail stained on Heechul’s cheek up the side of his face, past his forehead, deeper across his skull…
And he remembers the twitch of Heechul’s features, the grimace of pain that shot across the unconscious face.
The heart-jolting realization that Heechul was alive.
Siwon remembers scooping Heechul up into his arms, gingerly getting to his feet and picking his way out from the dark, damp alley. He remembers clutching the tiny body to him, head and chest resting against his shoulder, long legs spilling over his arms at the knees. He remembers the soft tickle of tears on his face, pain at Heechul’s pain, hurt at Heechul’s hurt. He could barely feel them, but he remembers.
Heechul doesn't remember. Heechul doesn’t remember being found, being carried, being held. He doesn't remember the way he jerked and choked out a gasp when Siwon held him too tight, pressing against his ribcage. He doesn’t remember the small cry of pain from his lips as Siwon struggled down the street. He doesn’t remember burying his ruined face into Siwon’s t-shirt, or the incoherent moans and pleads, the flicker of his eyelids as he dreamt.
No…no, please….it hurts…
He thought Siwon was the men who had hurt him. That Siwon was still hurting him.
Heechul doesn’t remember, but Siwon does. That night is burned into his memory.
***
When Heechul awoke, everything was quiet. He didn’t open his eyes at first, reveling instead in the breathy sighs that lingered, warm and heavy in his chest after sleep. The light of the late morning washed over his face and slowly, he opened his eyes.
Suddenly it was like he had been hit by a train. With the light not only came memories, but pain, waves of it crashing into every crook of his body, bringing every nerve on end, throbbing, lighting up in a rush of fire. He gasped silently, shocked, before sucking in a breath and clamping his mouth shut. If Siwon heard…
Siwon.
Heechul’s heart sank with dread as he looked around at his surroundings for the first time. He was laying in a huge expanse of fluffy white comforter on one side of a gigantic, plush bed. The window was open and the sheer white curtains fanned out with each breeze. The walls were a pale blue, Heechul noted, flicking his eyes around the pristine room shrewdly. It was, in a nutshell, gorgeous.
Frankly, it made Heechul want to throw up.
His eyes found the chair across the room and they narrowed as he focused on it, glaring at it accusingly. Siwon wasn't sleeping in it, keeping a frantically worried, ever-constant day and night watch on Heechul like he was obviously supposed to, hasn’t he even seen a drama.
Heechul scoffed. Bastard.
Where the hell is he, he wondered, but a knock on the door made him roll his head to the side, watching as it swung open lightly.
…Jesus Christ.
“Jesus Christ.” deadpanned Heechul.
Siwon blinked at him from the doorway.
“Look at you. God, Siwon, look at you!” Heechul’s brows creased angrily as he frowned at him, his eyes roaming over Siwon’s form, taking in the excessively ruffled apron, flowered oven mitts, and fresh plate of pancakes clasped between one, a spatula and two forks in the other.
“What!” Siwon answered defensively. He held out the pancakes to Heechul. “I made pancakes.”
Heechul rolled his eyes. One of these days he would need to teach Siwon how to defend himself from himself. And buy him a mirror. Heechul glared at him from where he lay in the massive bed, immobile. He hadn’t realized how sore he was. “I’ll survive.”
Siwon shrugged and crossed the room, sitting down on the other side of the bed. He either didn’t notice the edge to Heechul’s remark or he ignored it. Heechul couldn't really tell anymore. Siwon was different from how he remembered.
He watched as Siwon speared a pancake on his fork, half of it disappearing into his mouth in one fluid motion as he munched happily. Heechul stared at him incredulously.
“Ow ahgu feeding?” Siwon inquired.
Heechul continued to stare at him.
“Excuse me, what? I don't understand when you speak in tongues.”
Siwon swallowed thickly. “How are you feeling?” he tried again.
Heechul scoffed and turned back to staring at the ceiling, ignoring him and such a stupid question. Such a stupid, dangerous question. There was a soft clink as Siwon set down his fork, and Heechul could feel his eyes burning into him.
“It’s been three days,” he said quietly. Heechul winced as a twinge struck somewhere in his lower stomach. It felt like guilt. Silence stretched for a short moment. They were both waiting, hoping the other would take initiative to pick up the thread again and finally breach the lines.
“I don't try too hard. To remember, that is,” Heechul answered, referring to the blank stretch in his memory. Siwon continued to watch him carefully. “When I do…it hurts.” Heechul chuckled bitterly and added “then again, everything hurts,” under his breath.
Siwon doesn't try too hard to remember either, for the same reason, but somehow it’s different, because he’s not trying to forget the same thing. There was a longer silence as Siwon looked at his hands, and Heechul looked at the ceiling. Again, they waited, as Heechul tried to remembered how to breathe in the still air.
“They just…came at me,” Heechul whispered. Siwon’s eyes snapped up and watched as a nerve in Heechul’s jaw twitched. “I just….they were all over. I couldn't…I tried-“ he continued, quietly, brokenly, choking down the burning in his throat.
Heechul spun around, snarling in anger and fear at the pack behind him. He opened his mouth furiously-
He lurched forward, shocked, as a blow connected with his stomach, ripping the air from his lungs, before another smashed across the side of his face, his head snapping to the side with the force. He sank to his knees slowly, stunned, eyes wide, falling forward onto his hands. When he coughed, there was the sound of blood hitting the ground.
“I tried. I couldn't do anything. I was down in seconds and then they started kicking and I couldn't do anything, Siwon, I couldn’t-“
Siwon listened as Heechul let the words tumble out of him with a rush before they cut off and his throat worked thickly, trying to swallow the lump of offending emotions betraying him.
“I recognized one of them. The one…with the bat.”
A hand tangled roughly in Heechul’s hair and tugged sharply, the sound of strands being ripped from scalp echoing in the alley with Heechul’s strangled yell of pain. The skin of his throat stretched tight across the smooth line of his trachea as he bent backwards. The man brought his face down inches from his, leering. He was disgusting, greasy skin and a greasy smile, his stale breath fanning into Heechul’s face, choking him with it. Heechul winced, fingers gripping and scrabbling desperately at the hand at the back of his head as his neck stretched to the open air of the dark alley. Still, he couldn't take his eyes off of the long bat grasped tight in the man’s other hand.
“Do you know what my favorite color is?” the man hissed. Heechul didn't need to guess.
He already knew it was red.
The hand in his hair disappeared and Heechul teetered forward, his heart jumping into his throat, before the bat smashed into the back of his skull and his face collided with the grime of the alley floor.
“I couldn’t…”
The circle of men closed around him and buffeted his limp form back and forth like a toy. Grim laughter filled the silent night as Heechul’s hands came up to cover his face in a feeble attempt at protection.
CRACK.
Heechul’s shrill scream of agony shot through him and out of his mouth, stretched wide as he felt his rib snap, flooding him with white hot pain. His fingers crumbled in front of his face, twisting in ways they were never meant to go and he couldn't hear himself scream anymore, he could only hear the rushing of the pain, the roar in his ears…
“I…”
I have to get up.
Heechul’s shoulder hiked as he pushed his chest off the ground, tried lifting his head, but it was too heavy but too light, the low throbbing unbearable. His legs dragged out across the gravel as he pulled himself forward, trying, trying to get up, trying to get out of the alley, out where someone can help him, find him-
Heechul lifted his head slowly, laboriously, and he was so far away. He could see the edge of the alley, he was only a few feet away, but somehow it was too far. The street beyond it was lit, a warm yellow. Someone moved into the mouth of the alley, but they were dark and fuzzy and Heechul couldn't make them out. They paused, and he pushed his broken fingers forward, pleadingly, his vision swimming.
His breathing was shallow, barely there among the gargle of blood in his throat. His chest shook with a broken sob. The alley spun as Heechul’s chest met the floor again, and as his head dropped, whoever it was disappeared as he met the blackness.
***
I thought I was going to die.
Heechul stirred, the soft rustling of the comforter on the breeze.
…What was that?
The cool air met his face, and Heechul listened to the silence.
It’s dark…
Heechul’s eyes snapped open, a jolt of terror running through him. It took him a minute to realize he wasn’t back in the alley. He felt his heartbeat slow back to normal as he stared at the white ceiling of Siwon’s bedroom. He could feel Siwon next to him, sound asleep. It was probably either very late or very early; it was eerily quiet. Heechul lay in bed, a patch of light across his face from the moon hanging in the open window.
And then he slid his eyes to the side, straight at the person crouched on the windowsill.
For a moment, the stranger stayed there, caught in surprise and shock as Heechul watched him calmly. He was beautiful, eyes wide, his body lean and lithe and spry. His face was sharp, matching the cut of his hair. His long fingers wrapped neatly around the gleaming handle of the thin blade in his hand. His toned chest rose and fell gently under his shirt. He was still, he was silent. He was perfect.
And then he was gone.
[4]
Fandom: Super Junior
Chapter Pairings: SiChul Hankyung cameo
Word Count: 1949 (party like its 19--okay ill stop.)
Chapter Rating: R
Overall Summary: The secluded world of South Korea has decayed and it's largest city, Seoul, has fractioned into two seperate halves: the kings and the pawns. Society is different; life is different. People struggle to survive in both worlds, either smothered by the rules of the city or the despair of the slums. The lucky ones managing to balance between the two extreems watch their friends suffer or survive, take or be taken. Still, life churns on, and no matter what hand you have been dealt, you must play the game.
Chapter Summary: Heechul wakes up in Siwon's apartment.
Genre: AU
A/N: I KNOW. MY CHAPTER SUMMARIES. SUCK. but i dont want to give anything away~...and i know im posting RIDICULOUSLY LATE im sorry TTOTT i got distracted from schm0use's slut!hyuk. I swear she's going to write me porn one day. (yes its going to happen, schm0use, get over it.) GUH okay im sorry, ill try to be better at posting. also, im considering changing post days to Thursdays, possibly. I dont know. We'll see how this chapter goes. Also, im thinking about doing one-liner requests. Thoughts? Feedback? Lemme know if you would want to request; depending on how many "yes plz do this"'s i get, ill think about doing it. It sounds fun ^_^. AND OMG TWO HOURS OF YOGA I CANT EVEN MOVE TTOTT. who the fuck is at the door. oh its my roommate and her boyfriend. fuck my life, kthanks. >:[ (also, im missing a basketball game i told my friend i would go to. i feel like a bad person (theres more tomorrow, ill go to those) TT^TT
[1] [2]
Siwon remembers the wrenching feeling in his chest as he looked down the alleyway, the pressing sting of hyperventilation as dread gripped his lungs. He remembers running, slowly from shock, at first, and then frantically, arms shooting out to push against the dirty brick walls of the alley to push him just that much faster, that much closer. He remembers stumbling, falling, scrambling to his knees besides the pale limp form. He remembers how cold, how chillingly, terrifyingly cold Heechul’s skin was as he pulled him into his arms, hands grabbing at his face, gripping his jaw and turning Heechul’s face roughly towards his, cradling the other man limp in his arms.
He remembers the streak of blood covering most of Heechul’s face, the cut, swollen, purpling lip and the large bruise under his left eye. He remembers the whiteness of his skin, the damp of his hair as it lay plastered on his forehead, sticky with the heavy scent of blood. He remembers pushing aside the dark locks with his fingers, following the dark red trail stained on Heechul’s cheek up the side of his face, past his forehead, deeper across his skull…
And he remembers the twitch of Heechul’s features, the grimace of pain that shot across the unconscious face.
The heart-jolting realization that Heechul was alive.
Siwon remembers scooping Heechul up into his arms, gingerly getting to his feet and picking his way out from the dark, damp alley. He remembers clutching the tiny body to him, head and chest resting against his shoulder, long legs spilling over his arms at the knees. He remembers the soft tickle of tears on his face, pain at Heechul’s pain, hurt at Heechul’s hurt. He could barely feel them, but he remembers.
Heechul doesn't remember. Heechul doesn’t remember being found, being carried, being held. He doesn't remember the way he jerked and choked out a gasp when Siwon held him too tight, pressing against his ribcage. He doesn’t remember the small cry of pain from his lips as Siwon struggled down the street. He doesn’t remember burying his ruined face into Siwon’s t-shirt, or the incoherent moans and pleads, the flicker of his eyelids as he dreamt.
No…no, please….it hurts…
He thought Siwon was the men who had hurt him. That Siwon was still hurting him.
Heechul doesn’t remember, but Siwon does. That night is burned into his memory.
***
When Heechul awoke, everything was quiet. He didn’t open his eyes at first, reveling instead in the breathy sighs that lingered, warm and heavy in his chest after sleep. The light of the late morning washed over his face and slowly, he opened his eyes.
Suddenly it was like he had been hit by a train. With the light not only came memories, but pain, waves of it crashing into every crook of his body, bringing every nerve on end, throbbing, lighting up in a rush of fire. He gasped silently, shocked, before sucking in a breath and clamping his mouth shut. If Siwon heard…
Siwon.
Heechul’s heart sank with dread as he looked around at his surroundings for the first time. He was laying in a huge expanse of fluffy white comforter on one side of a gigantic, plush bed. The window was open and the sheer white curtains fanned out with each breeze. The walls were a pale blue, Heechul noted, flicking his eyes around the pristine room shrewdly. It was, in a nutshell, gorgeous.
Frankly, it made Heechul want to throw up.
His eyes found the chair across the room and they narrowed as he focused on it, glaring at it accusingly. Siwon wasn't sleeping in it, keeping a frantically worried, ever-constant day and night watch on Heechul like he was obviously supposed to, hasn’t he even seen a drama.
Heechul scoffed. Bastard.
Where the hell is he, he wondered, but a knock on the door made him roll his head to the side, watching as it swung open lightly.
…Jesus Christ.
“Jesus Christ.” deadpanned Heechul.
Siwon blinked at him from the doorway.
“Look at you. God, Siwon, look at you!” Heechul’s brows creased angrily as he frowned at him, his eyes roaming over Siwon’s form, taking in the excessively ruffled apron, flowered oven mitts, and fresh plate of pancakes clasped between one, a spatula and two forks in the other.
“What!” Siwon answered defensively. He held out the pancakes to Heechul. “I made pancakes.”
Heechul rolled his eyes. One of these days he would need to teach Siwon how to defend himself from himself. And buy him a mirror. Heechul glared at him from where he lay in the massive bed, immobile. He hadn’t realized how sore he was. “I’ll survive.”
Siwon shrugged and crossed the room, sitting down on the other side of the bed. He either didn’t notice the edge to Heechul’s remark or he ignored it. Heechul couldn't really tell anymore. Siwon was different from how he remembered.
He watched as Siwon speared a pancake on his fork, half of it disappearing into his mouth in one fluid motion as he munched happily. Heechul stared at him incredulously.
“Ow ahgu feeding?” Siwon inquired.
Heechul continued to stare at him.
“Excuse me, what? I don't understand when you speak in tongues.”
Siwon swallowed thickly. “How are you feeling?” he tried again.
Heechul scoffed and turned back to staring at the ceiling, ignoring him and such a stupid question. Such a stupid, dangerous question. There was a soft clink as Siwon set down his fork, and Heechul could feel his eyes burning into him.
“It’s been three days,” he said quietly. Heechul winced as a twinge struck somewhere in his lower stomach. It felt like guilt. Silence stretched for a short moment. They were both waiting, hoping the other would take initiative to pick up the thread again and finally breach the lines.
“I don't try too hard. To remember, that is,” Heechul answered, referring to the blank stretch in his memory. Siwon continued to watch him carefully. “When I do…it hurts.” Heechul chuckled bitterly and added “then again, everything hurts,” under his breath.
Siwon doesn't try too hard to remember either, for the same reason, but somehow it’s different, because he’s not trying to forget the same thing. There was a longer silence as Siwon looked at his hands, and Heechul looked at the ceiling. Again, they waited, as Heechul tried to remembered how to breathe in the still air.
“They just…came at me,” Heechul whispered. Siwon’s eyes snapped up and watched as a nerve in Heechul’s jaw twitched. “I just….they were all over. I couldn't…I tried-“ he continued, quietly, brokenly, choking down the burning in his throat.
Heechul spun around, snarling in anger and fear at the pack behind him. He opened his mouth furiously-
He lurched forward, shocked, as a blow connected with his stomach, ripping the air from his lungs, before another smashed across the side of his face, his head snapping to the side with the force. He sank to his knees slowly, stunned, eyes wide, falling forward onto his hands. When he coughed, there was the sound of blood hitting the ground.
“I tried. I couldn't do anything. I was down in seconds and then they started kicking and I couldn't do anything, Siwon, I couldn’t-“
Siwon listened as Heechul let the words tumble out of him with a rush before they cut off and his throat worked thickly, trying to swallow the lump of offending emotions betraying him.
“I recognized one of them. The one…with the bat.”
A hand tangled roughly in Heechul’s hair and tugged sharply, the sound of strands being ripped from scalp echoing in the alley with Heechul’s strangled yell of pain. The skin of his throat stretched tight across the smooth line of his trachea as he bent backwards. The man brought his face down inches from his, leering. He was disgusting, greasy skin and a greasy smile, his stale breath fanning into Heechul’s face, choking him with it. Heechul winced, fingers gripping and scrabbling desperately at the hand at the back of his head as his neck stretched to the open air of the dark alley. Still, he couldn't take his eyes off of the long bat grasped tight in the man’s other hand.
“Do you know what my favorite color is?” the man hissed. Heechul didn't need to guess.
He already knew it was red.
The hand in his hair disappeared and Heechul teetered forward, his heart jumping into his throat, before the bat smashed into the back of his skull and his face collided with the grime of the alley floor.
“I couldn’t…”
The circle of men closed around him and buffeted his limp form back and forth like a toy. Grim laughter filled the silent night as Heechul’s hands came up to cover his face in a feeble attempt at protection.
CRACK.
Heechul’s shrill scream of agony shot through him and out of his mouth, stretched wide as he felt his rib snap, flooding him with white hot pain. His fingers crumbled in front of his face, twisting in ways they were never meant to go and he couldn't hear himself scream anymore, he could only hear the rushing of the pain, the roar in his ears…
“I…”
I have to get up.
Heechul’s shoulder hiked as he pushed his chest off the ground, tried lifting his head, but it was too heavy but too light, the low throbbing unbearable. His legs dragged out across the gravel as he pulled himself forward, trying, trying to get up, trying to get out of the alley, out where someone can help him, find him-
Heechul lifted his head slowly, laboriously, and he was so far away. He could see the edge of the alley, he was only a few feet away, but somehow it was too far. The street beyond it was lit, a warm yellow. Someone moved into the mouth of the alley, but they were dark and fuzzy and Heechul couldn't make them out. They paused, and he pushed his broken fingers forward, pleadingly, his vision swimming.
His breathing was shallow, barely there among the gargle of blood in his throat. His chest shook with a broken sob. The alley spun as Heechul’s chest met the floor again, and as his head dropped, whoever it was disappeared as he met the blackness.
***
I thought I was going to die.
Heechul stirred, the soft rustling of the comforter on the breeze.
…What was that?
The cool air met his face, and Heechul listened to the silence.
It’s dark…
Heechul’s eyes snapped open, a jolt of terror running through him. It took him a minute to realize he wasn’t back in the alley. He felt his heartbeat slow back to normal as he stared at the white ceiling of Siwon’s bedroom. He could feel Siwon next to him, sound asleep. It was probably either very late or very early; it was eerily quiet. Heechul lay in bed, a patch of light across his face from the moon hanging in the open window.
And then he slid his eyes to the side, straight at the person crouched on the windowsill.
For a moment, the stranger stayed there, caught in surprise and shock as Heechul watched him calmly. He was beautiful, eyes wide, his body lean and lithe and spry. His face was sharp, matching the cut of his hair. His long fingers wrapped neatly around the gleaming handle of the thin blade in his hand. His toned chest rose and fell gently under his shirt. He was still, he was silent. He was perfect.
And then he was gone.
[4]