Round 13: Gin with nothin' else in
Title: Gin with nothin' else in.
Team: Canon/AR
Rating: PG
Fandom: Super Junior-M
Pairing: Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi
Summary: Moments and consequences.
Author's Note: A little bit to pay back the kindness of my team mates. Just a little bit to try out something different.
Prompt Used: Beast - SOOM and both supplementary prompts
There are consequences.
Zhou Mi values a humans happiness over his own career. Hangeng is a close friend, an old friend by some standards. Zhou Mi thinks he deserves to be happy and healthy and treated with respect.
Zhou Mi is the only one who knows. It weighs heavily on him, this secret that is not his to tell. Zhou Mi has given Hangeng his blessing and remembers how much lighter Hangeng looked after spilling all his troubles, his secret plans in harried and hurried mandarin.
Zhou Mi has always had a lot of respect for Hangeng. This will never change.
But there are always consequences.
Kyuhyun knew. Knew that Zhou Mi knew before anyone else. And that, that was unforgivable in his eyes. A betrayal. That Zhou Mi didn't, couldn't do anything that would have made Hangeng change his mind. How Kyuhyun knew, Mi didn't know, but here they were, breaking apart in the wake of cold words.
Zhou Mi looked at him imploringly, tried reaching out only to be knocked back and stared down. Kyuhyun didn't even give him a chance to explain or take the time to understand. Perhaps deep down, Mi can sympathise, but how can this be the time? They could call each other selfish but it would get them no where.
It is the sight of Kyuhyun's turned back. Zhou Mi didn't realise he had moved. The hesitance in sloped shoulders that made time stop.
He didn't release the breath he'd been holding until Kyuhyun started walking away from him.
Zhou Mi knew when to follow Kyuhyun and to give him space. But it didn't stop him wanting.
Super Junior M will disband, is all Zhou Mi gleams from a meeting that comes just in time to scrape wounds raw. Until a later date, SJM, in the eyes of management, is no longer a viable venture.
Consequences.
Zhou Mi sings like he breathes. Music knits his muscle and bone, a compulsion to shift, change and mould himself. He's no dancer but music makes him feel electric.
His voice cracks in the middle of laying a demo for another artist. Twice, then a third time he loses his voice completely, mid scratchy hum.
Three hospitals, two specialists, fourth and fifth opinions over two weeks. Words are bandied about almost a a whim: cancer, you'll never sing again, I'm sorry. None of them are real answers. Mi has lost his smile by the end of the last appointment but forces it for his mother's sake. It's like breathing underwater.
Zhou Mi is not one to feel sorry for himself. There's work to be done, but his hands are tired and his head is pounding and he just wants to speak, to laugh, to sing. Frustrated he smacks his fists hard against his thighs, trying to breathe.
Kyuhyun answers his phone. He hasn't bothered to change the special tone Zhou Mi set for his own number, a tinny tongue in cheek rendition of some Whitney Huston song. He isn't alarmed by the silence at the other end, just takes note of the breathing and talks. It had taken them some time, months to even talk, to become this again, to meet in the middle.
After a while Kyuhyun fell silent but did not hang up, breathing in sync. It wasn't until the last possible moment that Kyuhyun finally disconnected. Now he was breathing on his own again, he wasn't sure what to think.
Zhou Mi can sense things moving on without him. He doesn't like waiting. He doesn't like the silence. Zhou Mi takes his medicine and he can talk and host which keeps him busy. He can still write his lyrics and test his fingers to the piano and maybe hum a little but he opens his mouth to sing and nothing will come out.
He has forgotten how much he loves and hates Korea when he returns to host for a TV show. What he hates, or dislikes or would prefer to do without since hate is too strong for anything he feels, doesn't concern him for anything more than a second. And what he loves is all there, more often than not.
He collapses in the comfort of the dorms, empty, save for the scratching of Yesung's pet turtle and thumps and jumps of delicate cat paws. He wants to be in the same place as them and know he's still welcomed, now that his voice has gone away.
Mi is always made to never feel sure why he worries.
Although his luggage is in Yesung's room, Mi takes root in Kyuhyun's space. Kyuhyun touches Mi's throat, plays his Adams apple in a long line to his collarbones. Zhou Mi hum softly, a soundtrack for each caress.
'What's the diagnosis, Doctor Kuixian?' Mi teases.
'You will sing again.'
'First sure news I hear in months comes from you. It's heartening.'
Zhou Mi kisses Kyuhyun's cheek and clutches his hands tight within his own. Kyuhyun's faith lifts him up.
Hangeng leaves him messages from time to time. How are you's or Please take care of your-self’s or characters that express his thanks, his gratitude, his support. Zhou Mi is nothing but happy for Geng and all he'd achieved in the months in between. He'll reply to them sometimes, but he's sure Hangeng understands, sometimes he's just too busy.
Zhou Mi sings the morning. Pretending he's rising the sun with his voice, higher than the day before. He will practice until he is sick, until he spits up blood and is forced into silence and coaxed with more medicine. Blood sweat and tears is how this works. A band-aid for something more serious.
Stop singing now or you'll never sing again.
Zhou Mi hates ultimatums.
He's the only one in the dorms at this hour. Meaning that no one has come home yet. Zhou Mi scowls like Kyuhyun just to try it and props himself up with his hands to look around the bedroom through the four am mist of being half awake. He kicks the blankets aside, struggling briefly like a trapped child when his gangly legs wouldn't come free, tangled in the thick sheets.
Finally he presses his feet to the floor, moving them in a jig until he found the fat fluffy doraemon slippers that Kyuhyun owned but never wore until Mi had dug them out of his closet and paraded around the dorms in them at first for a joke, then because he found them oddly comfortable and they belonged (however humiliatingly) to Kyuhyun which was sometimes a comfort in and of itself.
He feels good today. But bad news is the only thing he gets.
'You should listen to the doctors.' Kyuhyun says, as Mi potters about collecting little things in readiness for his flight back to Beijing.
'Even if they don't know what they're talking about?' Zhou Mi scoffs.
Kyuhyun catches at Zhou Mi's hand and pulls him back to the bed, making him sit.
'I know what it's like. It's not the same, it's really very different, but I know.'
It's hard to be in love with someone logical.
Zhou Mi isn't sure if he's happy to be home. He's sure the uncertainty will wear off in the morning and dissipate with the jumbling thoughts that pile like trash in his head, never mind it's three am already and daylight comes early this time of year. Maybe it might leave with sleep but Mi isn't sure that's coming either. His notepads surround him, three thick on either side but he can't see them in the dark. It's his breathing he listens to, the steady rise of his chest and how it sounds falling from his mouth.
He's never really paid attention before.
Poll Round 13: Gin with nothin' else in
Team: Canon/AR
Rating: PG
Fandom: Super Junior-M
Pairing: Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi
Summary: Moments and consequences.
Author's Note: A little bit to pay back the kindness of my team mates. Just a little bit to try out something different.
Prompt Used: Beast - SOOM and both supplementary prompts
There are consequences.
Zhou Mi values a humans happiness over his own career. Hangeng is a close friend, an old friend by some standards. Zhou Mi thinks he deserves to be happy and healthy and treated with respect.
Zhou Mi is the only one who knows. It weighs heavily on him, this secret that is not his to tell. Zhou Mi has given Hangeng his blessing and remembers how much lighter Hangeng looked after spilling all his troubles, his secret plans in harried and hurried mandarin.
Zhou Mi has always had a lot of respect for Hangeng. This will never change.
But there are always consequences.
Kyuhyun knew. Knew that Zhou Mi knew before anyone else. And that, that was unforgivable in his eyes. A betrayal. That Zhou Mi didn't, couldn't do anything that would have made Hangeng change his mind. How Kyuhyun knew, Mi didn't know, but here they were, breaking apart in the wake of cold words.
Zhou Mi looked at him imploringly, tried reaching out only to be knocked back and stared down. Kyuhyun didn't even give him a chance to explain or take the time to understand. Perhaps deep down, Mi can sympathise, but how can this be the time? They could call each other selfish but it would get them no where.
It is the sight of Kyuhyun's turned back. Zhou Mi didn't realise he had moved. The hesitance in sloped shoulders that made time stop.
He didn't release the breath he'd been holding until Kyuhyun started walking away from him.
Zhou Mi knew when to follow Kyuhyun and to give him space. But it didn't stop him wanting.
Super Junior M will disband, is all Zhou Mi gleams from a meeting that comes just in time to scrape wounds raw. Until a later date, SJM, in the eyes of management, is no longer a viable venture.
Consequences.
Zhou Mi sings like he breathes. Music knits his muscle and bone, a compulsion to shift, change and mould himself. He's no dancer but music makes him feel electric.
His voice cracks in the middle of laying a demo for another artist. Twice, then a third time he loses his voice completely, mid scratchy hum.
Three hospitals, two specialists, fourth and fifth opinions over two weeks. Words are bandied about almost a a whim: cancer, you'll never sing again, I'm sorry. None of them are real answers. Mi has lost his smile by the end of the last appointment but forces it for his mother's sake. It's like breathing underwater.
Zhou Mi is not one to feel sorry for himself. There's work to be done, but his hands are tired and his head is pounding and he just wants to speak, to laugh, to sing. Frustrated he smacks his fists hard against his thighs, trying to breathe.
Kyuhyun answers his phone. He hasn't bothered to change the special tone Zhou Mi set for his own number, a tinny tongue in cheek rendition of some Whitney Huston song. He isn't alarmed by the silence at the other end, just takes note of the breathing and talks. It had taken them some time, months to even talk, to become this again, to meet in the middle.
After a while Kyuhyun fell silent but did not hang up, breathing in sync. It wasn't until the last possible moment that Kyuhyun finally disconnected. Now he was breathing on his own again, he wasn't sure what to think.
Zhou Mi can sense things moving on without him. He doesn't like waiting. He doesn't like the silence. Zhou Mi takes his medicine and he can talk and host which keeps him busy. He can still write his lyrics and test his fingers to the piano and maybe hum a little but he opens his mouth to sing and nothing will come out.
He has forgotten how much he loves and hates Korea when he returns to host for a TV show. What he hates, or dislikes or would prefer to do without since hate is too strong for anything he feels, doesn't concern him for anything more than a second. And what he loves is all there, more often than not.
He collapses in the comfort of the dorms, empty, save for the scratching of Yesung's pet turtle and thumps and jumps of delicate cat paws. He wants to be in the same place as them and know he's still welcomed, now that his voice has gone away.
Mi is always made to never feel sure why he worries.
Although his luggage is in Yesung's room, Mi takes root in Kyuhyun's space. Kyuhyun touches Mi's throat, plays his Adams apple in a long line to his collarbones. Zhou Mi hum softly, a soundtrack for each caress.
'What's the diagnosis, Doctor Kuixian?' Mi teases.
'You will sing again.'
'First sure news I hear in months comes from you. It's heartening.'
Zhou Mi kisses Kyuhyun's cheek and clutches his hands tight within his own. Kyuhyun's faith lifts him up.
Hangeng leaves him messages from time to time. How are you's or Please take care of your-self’s or characters that express his thanks, his gratitude, his support. Zhou Mi is nothing but happy for Geng and all he'd achieved in the months in between. He'll reply to them sometimes, but he's sure Hangeng understands, sometimes he's just too busy.
Zhou Mi sings the morning. Pretending he's rising the sun with his voice, higher than the day before. He will practice until he is sick, until he spits up blood and is forced into silence and coaxed with more medicine. Blood sweat and tears is how this works. A band-aid for something more serious.
Stop singing now or you'll never sing again.
Zhou Mi hates ultimatums.
He's the only one in the dorms at this hour. Meaning that no one has come home yet. Zhou Mi scowls like Kyuhyun just to try it and props himself up with his hands to look around the bedroom through the four am mist of being half awake. He kicks the blankets aside, struggling briefly like a trapped child when his gangly legs wouldn't come free, tangled in the thick sheets.
Finally he presses his feet to the floor, moving them in a jig until he found the fat fluffy doraemon slippers that Kyuhyun owned but never wore until Mi had dug them out of his closet and paraded around the dorms in them at first for a joke, then because he found them oddly comfortable and they belonged (however humiliatingly) to Kyuhyun which was sometimes a comfort in and of itself.
He feels good today. But bad news is the only thing he gets.
'You should listen to the doctors.' Kyuhyun says, as Mi potters about collecting little things in readiness for his flight back to Beijing.
'Even if they don't know what they're talking about?' Zhou Mi scoffs.
Kyuhyun catches at Zhou Mi's hand and pulls him back to the bed, making him sit.
'I know what it's like. It's not the same, it's really very different, but I know.'
It's hard to be in love with someone logical.
Zhou Mi isn't sure if he's happy to be home. He's sure the uncertainty will wear off in the morning and dissipate with the jumbling thoughts that pile like trash in his head, never mind it's three am already and daylight comes early this time of year. Maybe it might leave with sleep but Mi isn't sure that's coming either. His notepads surround him, three thick on either side but he can't see them in the dark. It's his breathing he listens to, the steady rise of his chest and how it sounds falling from his mouth.
He's never really paid attention before.
Poll Round 13: Gin with nothin' else in