the science of a heart
Fandom: Super Junior, some f(x) and Girls’ Gen
Pairing(s): Heechul/Hankyung, Donghae/Jessica, (maybe sibling!)HanToria
Rating: R
Summary: Heechul spends his nineteenth summer in China. And when it's time to go home, his heart is squeezing itself up out through his throat, bleeding his emotions all around. It sucks.
Word count: 2978
A/N: I've been calling this my HanChul baby in my head since I started it around…two weeks ago? I think so. That's probably because I actually really really like it, and it's one of my favorite HanChul pieces I've done :\ which doesn't say much, lol. It's angst, though. I used the 100 Suju fic challenge for this, theme #100, Regrets. Dedicated to wickedlove13 even though it's sadfic and she deserves better ;____;
the science of a heart
"I know this family that would probably love having you," his mother says, like she's giving him up for adoption. But no one wants to adopt a nineteen-year-old boy with a raging temper (on some days, at least) and a face remarkably like a girl's. And he's too old, second of all. Third of all, she's not really giving him up, but Heechul thinks so for about four seconds because the drama gives him that content feeling in his stomach. Oh, how he likes the drama!
Fourth of all, he's just going to China for a few months. Break from school, he'll catch up on that education later. He's more interested in art, in travel, and his parents know that. When he tells them he wants to go to China for his birthday (which automatically meant the summer, for some reason), they comply and his mother makes arrangements as soon as she can.
"Sounds good," Heechul picks up his sister's nail polish from the kitchen table, thinks about painting his nails the bright baby blue that's inside the bottle. "Who are they?"
"Your uncle's nephew's friend's family."
Heechul blinks. He doesn't need to think about it for too long. He's usually picky but for reasons he can't explain, he'll take anything that sounds good.
"Okay," he says, after a short pause.
The person who comes to get him from the airport wasn't mentioned when his mother described the family. She's holding a sign with his name on it-Korean handwriting's pretty good, Heechul muses to himself as he hikes the bag further up his shoulder-and wearing jeans that outline a set of slim legs most other females would kill to possess.
"You are?" he asks, not bothering with a hello first.
She puts the sign away, folds it up and shoves it into her bag. "Victoria," and she smiles, holds out her hand.
"Heechul," he takes the hand and shakes it. He can smell her, she smells like fruit. Like oranges.
Victoria's presence is still a mystery to Heechul even when they're on the road, in her small bluish-greyish car, and the car smells like peppermint and old leaves. She has these sunglasses fitted over her eyes, and a seemingly permanent smile stretched on her face as she hums along to some Korean song she's playing from a CD. Heechul hasn't heard her speak much, and he's honestly a little piqued.
"You don't have to play this music just because I'm here."
She glances at him as they pull into a parking lot. "It's not specially for you," the right corner of her mouth lifts a little more, she must be amused. "We listen to this music even when the Koreans aren't in the car."
Heechul ponders the 'we' until she parks and rolls her window down, waving towards a guy with natural black hair, two squinting and fascinating eyes, a straight nose, and a graceful walk.
"Victoria, how old are you?" Heechul asks, out of pure curiosity.
"Not old enough to drive, if that's what you were going to ask," she laughs and jumps out of the car. "But Geng-ge's mom just needed me to drive until we hit the studio."
Heechul watches her hand the keys off, to the guy Heechul couldn't really take his eyes off of. He watches the graceful movements between them both and thinks it looks like they're dancing in a way. Victoria slides into the back seat and there's a hand in Heechul's line of vision.
"Hi," the owner of the hand smiles. "I'm Han Geng. You're Heechul?"
It dawns on Heechul that this is his uncle's nephew's friend. Or at least, it seems likely. "Yeah, that's me."
"Nice meeting you," Han Geng's accent is kind of endearing, Heechul thinks. "You'll like it here."
"He should, at least," Victoria chimes in from the back, seat belt over her torso. Yet she's still lounging back there, window open and hair flowing.
Heechul watches Han Geng put on this silly grin and start the car with a lurch forward, and he thinks that yeah, he'll probably like it here.
Han Geng's mother is this sweet old woman who is definitely not old. She's just not exceedingly young. And after only five hours of being with this family, plus Victoria, Heechul discovers that Han Geng is, well, a flat out mama's boy.
And after five flipping hours of this family (plus Victoria), three more bodies come crashing down the stairs in a loud, yelling, hyper mess. Two boys, one girl. The girl is riding on the back of the boy with chocolate brown hair-probably dyed-and she doesn't look any older than ten. And then a fourth person, another girl but older than the high-pitched little energy ball, comes stomping down the stairs complaining in a sharp voice. In English.
Heechul suddenly wonders where the hell he is. Chinese, Korean, English. What's next, Finnish?
Han Geng is grinning-smug bastard, Heechul thinks-at the confusion on his face. Heechul tries not to let his irritation show when everyone is introduced. They're lined up like the friggin' von Trapp family. Hyukjae, Donghae, Krystal, Jessica. So they have names, they aren't just annoying, screaming teenagers and one baby, they're people.
And Han Geng is still grinning when Heechul raises an eyebrow at little Krystal, who comes running over to him to tell her about the scab on her knee and how it's embarrassing to wear her favorite shorts because it's really disgusting and Heechul really wants to clamp his hand over the kid's mouth. Jessica does the job and drags her off, screeching when Krystal licks her palm. Han Geng's mom runs after them, her tone scolding towards both girls for different reasons. But she's still gentle in every way and Heechul wonders how she does it.
"His mom's like magic," Donghae says, the Krystal-carrier from before.
Han Geng takes him almost everywhere, they don't take the car. He wants Heechul to experience the transportation in China, even if it's not that different from Korea because in a way, it's so different. The air is different, the people are different, everything smells different, the signs are in different languages, and Heechul thinks that not taking the car was actually a good idea. Now Han Geng can point at things without worrying over whether he's going to hit something or someone, he can focus on Heechul, and Heechul loves it.
He doesn't even mind when Krystal wants to tag along, or when Victoria's nearly attached to Han Geng at the hip. Because no matter what, Han Geng is looking at Heechul. Even when Han Geng has Krystal propped up on his side, carrying her around when her feet get tired, Heechul doesn't seem to mind and he hates that he doesn't, in a way, it's so unlike him.
They sit together, closely packed in a small restaurant near the Great Wall. Today, they're with Jessica and Donghae. Hyukjae went ahead with Krystal and promised not to drop her off the edge, to which Jessica glared at him for. Victoria's at a dance rehearsal, and Heechul feels odd, because he kind of misses her presence.
Donghae throws side glances at Jessica as she sips on her water and tries to figure out what she wants. Heechul gives Donghae the I know look when the teenager's eyes meet his again, because he so knows, and Han Geng knows, too-Heechul's sure of it, because would have to be blind to not notice the way the kid looks at her.
Heechul also thinks about how he'll be over her soon. After this summer's gone, Jessica won't mean much to Donghae except the girl he's not related to that he lives with and he kind of had a monster crush on for one summer. That's what Heechul sees, and Heechul is pretty sure he knows everything.
Or most things.
Because he can't seem to figure out why his foot won't stay away from Han Geng's leg. Maybe it's the crowded space, maybe that could be it.
"So do you love it here yet?"
"You've asked me that every ten seconds since we left the restaurant."
"And?"
"I've told you 'yes' every time, idiot," Heechul rolls his eyes and fixes his hat-the hat Han Geng gave him out of his closet because Heechul had taken to it on first sight. They share a room.
Han Geng has this ridiculously contagious grin that he wears about 90% of the time, and 40% of the time, it bothers Heechul. Right now is one of those times he'd fake the annoyance.
"I kind of don't want to leave. Ever," Heechul muses, lifting his camera, but he's not sure what he wants a picture of. "But I can't speak a word of Chinese, I don't know any one besides you, your parents, and the Koreans-and Victoria-and fuck it, I miss Kibum. And Kyuhyun…"
Han Geng's smile fades, but he doesn't look particularly down, or sad. He just looks like he's trying to think, and the thoughts are hard on his brain perhaps.
"Don't worry about that right now," he says, and he takes the camera from Heechul. "Let's take a picture, okay?"
Heechul agrees, of course. Because even though he probably has way too many pictures of himself with this glowing Chinese boy, he thinks he could still do with more. It'll hurt him, once they separate, but for now, it's a beautiful thing.
Their faces are close, pushed up against each other like they're going to turn and kiss any second. Heechul can almost hear Han Geng's mind, gears turning, something crying behind that smiling face in the picture.
Don't talk about leaving. We still have more time.
It's way past midnight and they can hear the world slowing and speeding at the same time. They're sharing the bed, as they always do, although Heechul recalls the first few days in his trip where Han Geng had insisted on letting Heechul have the bed to himself. That proved to be dumb, and a sleeping bag was not enough to keep Han Geng's back from aching against the floor. Heechul had told him to stop being stupid and just sleep next to him, big fucking deal.
Well, it's turned into a big deal, to Heechul. Sort of.
"Part of me loves you," Heechul blurts.
No words settle in, other than Heechul's in Han Geng's brain. It's the epitome of silence, and the volume of it makes Heechul want to reach out and grab him close, crushing their bodies together.
"And the other part?"
"The other part of me loves where I'm from."
Han Geng scrunches up his eyebrows. "You told me you never wanted to leave, though," his voice is reminiscent of a lost child.
"And I told you what would be wrong about me never leaving, did I not?"
Han Geng doesn't nod, it goes without saying.
"Besides, I think I'm just confusing China with you, isn't it weird?" Heechul chokes up a nervous laugh, pretending to be occupied with adjusting the pillow under his head.
"China's a big place, Heechul."
You're big to me, and he means it in the most romantic way. But if it hadn't been for the increasing fear churning in his stomach with the butterflies, he might have said more than just, "Yeah, real big."
Heechul watches Donghae bargain with the vendor, a bracelet traveling back and forth between their hands. Hyukjae is next to his best friend, eyes faded in color.
He's buying a bracelet for Jessica, and Heechul knows it, he knows the signs. He's been where Donghae is. Regrets start to seep in one by one, and Heechul starts to wish he could be brave like he used to be. He's only holding the outer shell, a shield in front that only looks as if he's strong, brave, all that crap.
For a blip of a moment, Heechul thinks about Han Geng, but then he thinks about how his new best friend should probably just stick to that title. He's better off marrying someone like Victoria. When Heechul starts to ponder about how they'd be cute together, he cuts off his own thoughts and almost slaps himself. Since when did he start feeling so resigned?
Time to change that. Move fast, Heechul, you're leaving in a month.
Han Geng jerks out of sleep when he feels Heechul's weight shift-and it shifts so that he's leaning not-so-heavily against Han Geng, and there's a hand up his shirt.
"Heechul-?"
"Shh, just be quiet. Don't make any noise."
Han Geng's tired eyes expand when the hand in his shirt moves south, slipping underneath his waistband. But something tells him to do what Heechul says, to not make a sound. He lets his back arch and after a moment of straining silence, he hears Heechul laugh softly, and he sees what looks like the lovechild of a smirk and a beaming smile on Heechul's face. The look alone almost makes Han Geng let it all go, and he almost spills into Heechul's busy hand. There's almost a noise born between them, but Heechul ushers the idea of speaking into the darkest corner when he kisses Han Geng.
All they have amounts to silent moans, the rustling of sheets, and the quietest murmur of skin against skin. And in the morning, they pretend it was a dream-shared, but make-believe.
Departure is close, and Heechul wishes it could be further away. Or maybe it could just stop existing. No goodbyes, he could stay here forever. He can't figure out what's holding him back-what's clinging to his ankle, ready to drag him back to his homeland in a matter of days.
Heechul hasn't been in love since 2nd grade, but now he's starting to remember what it feels like. Only back then it was less painful. It didn't hurt as much, but love changes when people age. Sometimes it stops being fun.
So he tries to make fun out of the heartache he feels, and when the family-including the Koreans and Victoria, everyone-is out, he pins Han Geng to a wall. That's fun, right?
But when Han Geng turns the tables and uses his hands as cuffs around Heechul's pretty wrists. Han Geng is careful, though. He's found out by now how easy it is to break Heechul. Though, The emotional part of it could forever remain a mystery for him. It probably will, and as Heechul takes Han Geng's bottom lip between his teeth, he thinks he wants to keep it that way.
Goodbyes are uncomfortable. You'd think people would be able to get used to them by now. But Heechul won't let himself believe that he's not an expert by now. He wants to get over the urge for tears faster, the urge to cling and never let go needs to dissolve or evaporate into the air. The urge to kiss Han Geng in front of everyone as if they were all suddenly blindfolded needs to be boxed up and kept under the left side of his chest.
He hugs them all. Little Krystal clings and cries, and Hyukjae cries with her. He holds her hand, and Heechul wants to tell the boy to stop being a crybaby, but the words come out in another hug instead. Donghae, Jessica, they go by quickly but not without meanings to them. Han Geng's mother holds on and tells him to read Chinese poetry when he misses them. Victoria is the penultimate, the second to last hug and Heechul smells the oranges again. He really is going to miss her, the strange and beautiful teenager who drove against what the law said, his first real impression of hospitality in China.
Han Geng. They hug, and they fight any urges they might have locked up in bottles in their minds. It's over too soon, but Heechul doesn't realize until he's through the gate and alone how tight Han Geng's hands had been against his back. Bruises may form, but Heechul doesn't care. He'll hold onto them for as long as he can, the imprints of Han Geng's hands against the smooth expanse of skin on his back, because they'll be the most solid memory. Until they fade.
Kibum is tapping away on the keyboard, and Heechul sort of missed the sound. And he sort of missed Kyuhyun's random snapping at his own computer screen or the TV screen when he wouldn't be getting his way in the virtual world. The swears keep him grounded, they're part of what helps him stay planted to the floor of Kyuhyun's room when Heechul's ready to grow wings and fly back to China.
Kibum is tapping away on the keyboard, but after forty-six minutes, Heechul feels himself wilting. His heart is squeezing itself up and out through his throat when he runs to the bathroom. He bleeds emotions all over the floor in the most figurative way he can manage. And he stays this way, bent over the sink, mouth open but nothing happening except dry heaves.
Kibum stops tap, tap, tapping away on the keyboard and Heechul doesn't notice until Kyuhyun's bursts of profanities come to an end and the two younger boys are at the bathroom door, knocking. Heechul ignores them. He stays where he is, and almost waits for the loneliness to dissipate.
He stops at a bookstore on the way home, picks up a book of Chinese poetry, and reads it on the bus even when the motion sickness is kicking him in the stomach.
He goes home to a room with no Chinese boy, no Han Geng. He goes home to an empty bed and a chattering sister on the other side of the wall-on the phone.
The loneliness digs its talons in deeper when Heechul flops on the bed. All he sees is empty space where someone should be, all he hears is his sister making plans with a friend, all he smells is the detergent his own mother uses.
//…
I love tagging Geng's mama, ngl.
After I finish my stressful school work, I'm going to try to finish my SiHan piece, because since I obtained my Siwonnie, I've wanted to write SiHan way more than usual, lmao.
Should I tag Heech's noona?
Pairing(s): Heechul/Hankyung, Donghae/Jessica, (maybe sibling!)HanToria
Rating: R
Summary: Heechul spends his nineteenth summer in China. And when it's time to go home, his heart is squeezing itself up out through his throat, bleeding his emotions all around. It sucks.
Word count: 2978
A/N: I've been calling this my HanChul baby in my head since I started it around…two weeks ago? I think so. That's probably because I actually really really like it, and it's one of my favorite HanChul pieces I've done :\ which doesn't say much, lol. It's angst, though. I used the 100 Suju fic challenge for this, theme #100, Regrets. Dedicated to wickedlove13 even though it's sadfic and she deserves better ;____;
the science of a heart
"I know this family that would probably love having you," his mother says, like she's giving him up for adoption. But no one wants to adopt a nineteen-year-old boy with a raging temper (on some days, at least) and a face remarkably like a girl's. And he's too old, second of all. Third of all, she's not really giving him up, but Heechul thinks so for about four seconds because the drama gives him that content feeling in his stomach. Oh, how he likes the drama!
Fourth of all, he's just going to China for a few months. Break from school, he'll catch up on that education later. He's more interested in art, in travel, and his parents know that. When he tells them he wants to go to China for his birthday (which automatically meant the summer, for some reason), they comply and his mother makes arrangements as soon as she can.
"Sounds good," Heechul picks up his sister's nail polish from the kitchen table, thinks about painting his nails the bright baby blue that's inside the bottle. "Who are they?"
"Your uncle's nephew's friend's family."
Heechul blinks. He doesn't need to think about it for too long. He's usually picky but for reasons he can't explain, he'll take anything that sounds good.
"Okay," he says, after a short pause.
The person who comes to get him from the airport wasn't mentioned when his mother described the family. She's holding a sign with his name on it-Korean handwriting's pretty good, Heechul muses to himself as he hikes the bag further up his shoulder-and wearing jeans that outline a set of slim legs most other females would kill to possess.
"You are?" he asks, not bothering with a hello first.
She puts the sign away, folds it up and shoves it into her bag. "Victoria," and she smiles, holds out her hand.
"Heechul," he takes the hand and shakes it. He can smell her, she smells like fruit. Like oranges.
Victoria's presence is still a mystery to Heechul even when they're on the road, in her small bluish-greyish car, and the car smells like peppermint and old leaves. She has these sunglasses fitted over her eyes, and a seemingly permanent smile stretched on her face as she hums along to some Korean song she's playing from a CD. Heechul hasn't heard her speak much, and he's honestly a little piqued.
"You don't have to play this music just because I'm here."
She glances at him as they pull into a parking lot. "It's not specially for you," the right corner of her mouth lifts a little more, she must be amused. "We listen to this music even when the Koreans aren't in the car."
Heechul ponders the 'we' until she parks and rolls her window down, waving towards a guy with natural black hair, two squinting and fascinating eyes, a straight nose, and a graceful walk.
"Victoria, how old are you?" Heechul asks, out of pure curiosity.
"Not old enough to drive, if that's what you were going to ask," she laughs and jumps out of the car. "But Geng-ge's mom just needed me to drive until we hit the studio."
Heechul watches her hand the keys off, to the guy Heechul couldn't really take his eyes off of. He watches the graceful movements between them both and thinks it looks like they're dancing in a way. Victoria slides into the back seat and there's a hand in Heechul's line of vision.
"Hi," the owner of the hand smiles. "I'm Han Geng. You're Heechul?"
It dawns on Heechul that this is his uncle's nephew's friend. Or at least, it seems likely. "Yeah, that's me."
"Nice meeting you," Han Geng's accent is kind of endearing, Heechul thinks. "You'll like it here."
"He should, at least," Victoria chimes in from the back, seat belt over her torso. Yet she's still lounging back there, window open and hair flowing.
Heechul watches Han Geng put on this silly grin and start the car with a lurch forward, and he thinks that yeah, he'll probably like it here.
Han Geng's mother is this sweet old woman who is definitely not old. She's just not exceedingly young. And after only five hours of being with this family, plus Victoria, Heechul discovers that Han Geng is, well, a flat out mama's boy.
And after five flipping hours of this family (plus Victoria), three more bodies come crashing down the stairs in a loud, yelling, hyper mess. Two boys, one girl. The girl is riding on the back of the boy with chocolate brown hair-probably dyed-and she doesn't look any older than ten. And then a fourth person, another girl but older than the high-pitched little energy ball, comes stomping down the stairs complaining in a sharp voice. In English.
Heechul suddenly wonders where the hell he is. Chinese, Korean, English. What's next, Finnish?
Han Geng is grinning-smug bastard, Heechul thinks-at the confusion on his face. Heechul tries not to let his irritation show when everyone is introduced. They're lined up like the friggin' von Trapp family. Hyukjae, Donghae, Krystal, Jessica. So they have names, they aren't just annoying, screaming teenagers and one baby, they're people.
And Han Geng is still grinning when Heechul raises an eyebrow at little Krystal, who comes running over to him to tell her about the scab on her knee and how it's embarrassing to wear her favorite shorts because it's really disgusting and Heechul really wants to clamp his hand over the kid's mouth. Jessica does the job and drags her off, screeching when Krystal licks her palm. Han Geng's mom runs after them, her tone scolding towards both girls for different reasons. But she's still gentle in every way and Heechul wonders how she does it.
"His mom's like magic," Donghae says, the Krystal-carrier from before.
Han Geng takes him almost everywhere, they don't take the car. He wants Heechul to experience the transportation in China, even if it's not that different from Korea because in a way, it's so different. The air is different, the people are different, everything smells different, the signs are in different languages, and Heechul thinks that not taking the car was actually a good idea. Now Han Geng can point at things without worrying over whether he's going to hit something or someone, he can focus on Heechul, and Heechul loves it.
He doesn't even mind when Krystal wants to tag along, or when Victoria's nearly attached to Han Geng at the hip. Because no matter what, Han Geng is looking at Heechul. Even when Han Geng has Krystal propped up on his side, carrying her around when her feet get tired, Heechul doesn't seem to mind and he hates that he doesn't, in a way, it's so unlike him.
They sit together, closely packed in a small restaurant near the Great Wall. Today, they're with Jessica and Donghae. Hyukjae went ahead with Krystal and promised not to drop her off the edge, to which Jessica glared at him for. Victoria's at a dance rehearsal, and Heechul feels odd, because he kind of misses her presence.
Donghae throws side glances at Jessica as she sips on her water and tries to figure out what she wants. Heechul gives Donghae the I know look when the teenager's eyes meet his again, because he so knows, and Han Geng knows, too-Heechul's sure of it, because would have to be blind to not notice the way the kid looks at her.
Heechul also thinks about how he'll be over her soon. After this summer's gone, Jessica won't mean much to Donghae except the girl he's not related to that he lives with and he kind of had a monster crush on for one summer. That's what Heechul sees, and Heechul is pretty sure he knows everything.
Or most things.
Because he can't seem to figure out why his foot won't stay away from Han Geng's leg. Maybe it's the crowded space, maybe that could be it.
"So do you love it here yet?"
"You've asked me that every ten seconds since we left the restaurant."
"And?"
"I've told you 'yes' every time, idiot," Heechul rolls his eyes and fixes his hat-the hat Han Geng gave him out of his closet because Heechul had taken to it on first sight. They share a room.
Han Geng has this ridiculously contagious grin that he wears about 90% of the time, and 40% of the time, it bothers Heechul. Right now is one of those times he'd fake the annoyance.
"I kind of don't want to leave. Ever," Heechul muses, lifting his camera, but he's not sure what he wants a picture of. "But I can't speak a word of Chinese, I don't know any one besides you, your parents, and the Koreans-and Victoria-and fuck it, I miss Kibum. And Kyuhyun…"
Han Geng's smile fades, but he doesn't look particularly down, or sad. He just looks like he's trying to think, and the thoughts are hard on his brain perhaps.
"Don't worry about that right now," he says, and he takes the camera from Heechul. "Let's take a picture, okay?"
Heechul agrees, of course. Because even though he probably has way too many pictures of himself with this glowing Chinese boy, he thinks he could still do with more. It'll hurt him, once they separate, but for now, it's a beautiful thing.
Their faces are close, pushed up against each other like they're going to turn and kiss any second. Heechul can almost hear Han Geng's mind, gears turning, something crying behind that smiling face in the picture.
Don't talk about leaving. We still have more time.
It's way past midnight and they can hear the world slowing and speeding at the same time. They're sharing the bed, as they always do, although Heechul recalls the first few days in his trip where Han Geng had insisted on letting Heechul have the bed to himself. That proved to be dumb, and a sleeping bag was not enough to keep Han Geng's back from aching against the floor. Heechul had told him to stop being stupid and just sleep next to him, big fucking deal.
Well, it's turned into a big deal, to Heechul. Sort of.
"Part of me loves you," Heechul blurts.
No words settle in, other than Heechul's in Han Geng's brain. It's the epitome of silence, and the volume of it makes Heechul want to reach out and grab him close, crushing their bodies together.
"And the other part?"
"The other part of me loves where I'm from."
Han Geng scrunches up his eyebrows. "You told me you never wanted to leave, though," his voice is reminiscent of a lost child.
"And I told you what would be wrong about me never leaving, did I not?"
Han Geng doesn't nod, it goes without saying.
"Besides, I think I'm just confusing China with you, isn't it weird?" Heechul chokes up a nervous laugh, pretending to be occupied with adjusting the pillow under his head.
"China's a big place, Heechul."
You're big to me, and he means it in the most romantic way. But if it hadn't been for the increasing fear churning in his stomach with the butterflies, he might have said more than just, "Yeah, real big."
Heechul watches Donghae bargain with the vendor, a bracelet traveling back and forth between their hands. Hyukjae is next to his best friend, eyes faded in color.
He's buying a bracelet for Jessica, and Heechul knows it, he knows the signs. He's been where Donghae is. Regrets start to seep in one by one, and Heechul starts to wish he could be brave like he used to be. He's only holding the outer shell, a shield in front that only looks as if he's strong, brave, all that crap.
For a blip of a moment, Heechul thinks about Han Geng, but then he thinks about how his new best friend should probably just stick to that title. He's better off marrying someone like Victoria. When Heechul starts to ponder about how they'd be cute together, he cuts off his own thoughts and almost slaps himself. Since when did he start feeling so resigned?
Time to change that. Move fast, Heechul, you're leaving in a month.
Han Geng jerks out of sleep when he feels Heechul's weight shift-and it shifts so that he's leaning not-so-heavily against Han Geng, and there's a hand up his shirt.
"Heechul-?"
"Shh, just be quiet. Don't make any noise."
Han Geng's tired eyes expand when the hand in his shirt moves south, slipping underneath his waistband. But something tells him to do what Heechul says, to not make a sound. He lets his back arch and after a moment of straining silence, he hears Heechul laugh softly, and he sees what looks like the lovechild of a smirk and a beaming smile on Heechul's face. The look alone almost makes Han Geng let it all go, and he almost spills into Heechul's busy hand. There's almost a noise born between them, but Heechul ushers the idea of speaking into the darkest corner when he kisses Han Geng.
All they have amounts to silent moans, the rustling of sheets, and the quietest murmur of skin against skin. And in the morning, they pretend it was a dream-shared, but make-believe.
Departure is close, and Heechul wishes it could be further away. Or maybe it could just stop existing. No goodbyes, he could stay here forever. He can't figure out what's holding him back-what's clinging to his ankle, ready to drag him back to his homeland in a matter of days.
Heechul hasn't been in love since 2nd grade, but now he's starting to remember what it feels like. Only back then it was less painful. It didn't hurt as much, but love changes when people age. Sometimes it stops being fun.
So he tries to make fun out of the heartache he feels, and when the family-including the Koreans and Victoria, everyone-is out, he pins Han Geng to a wall. That's fun, right?
But when Han Geng turns the tables and uses his hands as cuffs around Heechul's pretty wrists. Han Geng is careful, though. He's found out by now how easy it is to break Heechul. Though, The emotional part of it could forever remain a mystery for him. It probably will, and as Heechul takes Han Geng's bottom lip between his teeth, he thinks he wants to keep it that way.
Goodbyes are uncomfortable. You'd think people would be able to get used to them by now. But Heechul won't let himself believe that he's not an expert by now. He wants to get over the urge for tears faster, the urge to cling and never let go needs to dissolve or evaporate into the air. The urge to kiss Han Geng in front of everyone as if they were all suddenly blindfolded needs to be boxed up and kept under the left side of his chest.
He hugs them all. Little Krystal clings and cries, and Hyukjae cries with her. He holds her hand, and Heechul wants to tell the boy to stop being a crybaby, but the words come out in another hug instead. Donghae, Jessica, they go by quickly but not without meanings to them. Han Geng's mother holds on and tells him to read Chinese poetry when he misses them. Victoria is the penultimate, the second to last hug and Heechul smells the oranges again. He really is going to miss her, the strange and beautiful teenager who drove against what the law said, his first real impression of hospitality in China.
Han Geng. They hug, and they fight any urges they might have locked up in bottles in their minds. It's over too soon, but Heechul doesn't realize until he's through the gate and alone how tight Han Geng's hands had been against his back. Bruises may form, but Heechul doesn't care. He'll hold onto them for as long as he can, the imprints of Han Geng's hands against the smooth expanse of skin on his back, because they'll be the most solid memory. Until they fade.
Kibum is tapping away on the keyboard, and Heechul sort of missed the sound. And he sort of missed Kyuhyun's random snapping at his own computer screen or the TV screen when he wouldn't be getting his way in the virtual world. The swears keep him grounded, they're part of what helps him stay planted to the floor of Kyuhyun's room when Heechul's ready to grow wings and fly back to China.
Kibum is tapping away on the keyboard, but after forty-six minutes, Heechul feels himself wilting. His heart is squeezing itself up and out through his throat when he runs to the bathroom. He bleeds emotions all over the floor in the most figurative way he can manage. And he stays this way, bent over the sink, mouth open but nothing happening except dry heaves.
Kibum stops tap, tap, tapping away on the keyboard and Heechul doesn't notice until Kyuhyun's bursts of profanities come to an end and the two younger boys are at the bathroom door, knocking. Heechul ignores them. He stays where he is, and almost waits for the loneliness to dissipate.
He stops at a bookstore on the way home, picks up a book of Chinese poetry, and reads it on the bus even when the motion sickness is kicking him in the stomach.
He goes home to a room with no Chinese boy, no Han Geng. He goes home to an empty bed and a chattering sister on the other side of the wall-on the phone.
The loneliness digs its talons in deeper when Heechul flops on the bed. All he sees is empty space where someone should be, all he hears is his sister making plans with a friend, all he smells is the detergent his own mother uses.
//…
I love tagging Geng's mama, ngl.
After I finish my stressful school work, I'm going to try to finish my SiHan piece, because since I obtained my Siwonnie, I've wanted to write SiHan way more than usual, lmao.
Should I tag Heech's noona?