Familial Ties: SideStory from Street Fighter
Title: Familial Ties
Author: Sum3r
Pairing: KyuWook [KyuhyunxRyeowook]
Rating: R/NC-17
Disclaimer: Plot is mine. Characters aren’t.
Warning: INCEST. (halfbrotherxhalfbrother), Smex, Fighting
Summary: Kyuhyun has been a Fighter ever since he began finishing High School, having already been decided as the representative in the next Tournament. But when his half-brother shows up in his household, can Kyuhyun continue to live like this?
Previous: (main story): [Part I-Blood Stains and Knives] [Part II-Hide and Seek] [Part III-Training and Answers]
[A/N]: Side Story from Street Fighter, mentioned briefly in part III. I was planning on thinking Yesung for this, but for some reason, Kyuhyun really fit the part.
Familial Ties
The first time Ryeowook met him, it was at his mother’s funeral, the silent boy crying as they put the lid over his mother’s casket, the smell of lilies and the sound of sniffles, of cries echoing in the church, continuously like an unbroken record. He was at the front, his black pants slightly too tight, his shirt slightly too small, tears flowing one after another until he wiped his hands over his eyes, stopping the cascade of salty water in a small, childish manner.
Whispers of ‘Where is he going now?’ and ‘We can’t take him, we already have so many children’ and ‘Look at him-do you think we can take care of a child like that?’ followed him as he walked down the aisle and away, away from his mother’s friends, from his relatives, away from her, when she promised she wouldn’t leave him, that she would always be there to protect him, be with him.
He had always known about him; his mother would often compare him to the other boy, saying how incompetent he was, or how he failed in comparison to him. But Ryeowook didn’t mind, he knew his mother was only saying that out of spite, out of hatred of what she became, what she was reduced to.
He sat outside; on the steps of the church, Ryeowook cried and cried until the last of the tears fell but he was left with no peace. He was about to get up again, but when he looked up from the cobblestones, he meet his eyes, and he jerked, eyes widening, throat closing up.
Thousands of possibilities of when they would meet, of what he would say to him, of what would happen, flashed across his mind, but he never imagined he would be here of all places, at his mother’s funeral when he was pretty sure he didn’t even know he existed.
Brother flickered across Ryeowook’s mind when he looked at him, my brother.
But Ryeowook knew. He had always known about Kyuhyun, known it since he was a child and he mother used to rage about how she was kicked out of the main house, how her son would never be accepted as that bitch’s son would. Ryeowook didn’t mind, however, and filled his head with all these possibilities that when they would both meet, he would tell Kyuhyun everything and the younger boy would smile, smile and say yes he was glad he had a brother and yes they would live together.
But as he stood on the Church steps, a glimpse of a black suit and the smell of cologne brushing past him-father-Ryeowook had finally realized what his mother had been protecting him of all these years.
“This?” said the bored voice, uncaring, “He’s supposed to be my half brother? A bit fat isn’t he?”
An older woman, with grey hair, narrowed eyes and hard lines around her mouth, ushered him into the Church, and Kyunyun walked past him without another word.
Reality, along with the final realization that he no longer had anyone anymore, gripped Ryeowook, destroying whatever hopes he had of his half-brother and the family he desperately wanted to belong to.
He sat down again and wished, as tears fell anew, wished that he had never deluded himself as part of a family that left his mother-and him-without a second look back.
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[13 years later]
“-and tonight too, really Kyuhyun…is it so hard for you to show up once in a while? You are the main son after all and if you don’t start behaving like it then-”
“Then what? You’ll kick me out? Throw me out into the streets?” Kyuhyun faced his mother with the same expression on his face as he always did, bored and uncaring. It was late in the night when he finally returned home, only to find his mother waiting for him, a tense and worried expression on her normally beautiful and carefree face.
He wore his traditional beanie, a pair of old pants that still fit him, and a gray hoodie that was slightly larger on his lax frame. He regarded his mother with the same bland look he reserved for everyone in his family, or anyone else for that matter.
“Actually, we were thinking about…something else,” said the voice behind him. Kyuhyun’s shoulders stiffened as he recognized the voice. As his father walked into his view, his mother suddenly spoke up.
“Dear, do we really need to do this? I’m sure we can figure out a way-”
“Quiet.” The word silenced Kyuhyun’s mother, slightly surprising the boy. Interest piqued, he waited for his father to continue.
“I know you have no interest, and that I understand. But for you to go around, fighting in the streets like some low-blood commoner, that I do not understand nor accept. If you don’t shape up, then I can simply replace you.”
Kyuhyun raised a brow, one of the few shown facial expressions he had ever given his father. “By whom?” he said coolly, “some bastard from a woman you fucked and then left?”
His father, like him, gave no emotion through his stoic face. “Why not? At least he’d appreciate it more than you would.” His mother pleaded with him through her eyes, trying to make him understand, but Kyuhyun walked away, no longer feeling the anger he usually felt when talking to his father.
When finally reaching his room, he took a few minutes to grab some things here and there and after hearing one of the servants’ footsteps fading away, he opened up his window and climbed out of it.
Bored. Bored. Bored. Kyuhyun slipped through the crack in the wall, large enough for him to go through, and walked into the darkened streets. He never really understood when it started, but he began slipping out of his house, out of the constant rules and regulations of what he can and can not do, when he was around fifteen or sixteen years old, and three years later, nothing had changed.
He was never the one to start fights, but once caught in between, he never backed down either. His body had grown accustomed to the scraps he go into; bruises constantly fading and reappearing on his skin. He thought it would continue to stay that way, until he met a man who called himself Leeteuk, (he never really trusted the names of those he met in the streets) who gave him his card, telling him ‘if you’re that bored, I’ll give you something to sate you more than the weaklings you fight in these streets.’
One assessment and Kyuhyun knew Leeteuk had figured him out.
The only thing he was concerned with, as Kyuhyun walked through the busy intersections, holding the card in his hand as he reached an immense office building, was whether or not Leeteuk truly meant what he had said.
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[Few Days Later]
Ryeowook swallowed as he looked up at the large house, or mansion really, hands clammy with sweat as he stood outside the front door, only one large suitcase behind him.
“Come,” said the woman briskly, opening the door and walking quickly inside, Ryeowook grabbing his suitcase as he rushed to keep up with her. Feeling slightly small as he walked through the large hallways, Ryeowook asked himself for the hundredth time, what am I doing here?
It wasn’t much of a choice really, since he was finally, after thirteen years, left with nowhere to go. When his grandmother had recently passed away, ‘I’ll be fine Ryeowook, I always was,’ the older boy was given less than a day to pack up thirteen years of his life into a single suitcase to take with him to his new home-with his father.
Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would be going back to the same place that had shunned him out for all these years. Yet here he was, walking down the long carpeted hallway full of paintings of people he had no clue about.
“This is your room,” she said, opening the door as she stopped in the middle of the hallway, Ryeowook nearly tripping after her. He regarded her with curiosity, wondering if she remembered the small boy she had seen when she pulled Kyuhyun into the church. But giving no reaction that she recognized him, the caretaker merely said, “You will stay in here until dinner is called or until Sir calls you down.” There were no guesses who sir was. Then bowing slightly with her head, she left him, as Ryeowook shoved his over-full suitcase into the room, room? It’s almost as big as grandmother’s house.
He stared at the large bed, good enough for two or three people at the least, the open, wide windows, the lavish setting of the couches, the carpeted floor, and asked himself, now for the hundredth and one time, what am I doing here?
Ryeowook was unpacking when he heard the creaking of the window. His suitcase was mostly full of clothes, since he didn’t know what to expect when he got here, but there were one or two personal items that he wanted to make sure were safe.
But as the window creaked open, a blue backpack suddenly crashed into the floor, making Ryeowook immediately crawl back in a hurry, heart hammering in his chest as he wondered who it could be. Robber? Burglar? Murderer? flashed through his mind, but as the body crawled through, legs first, and then the head, jumping into the floor, Ryeowook realized that it was not a burglar, but in fact his half brother Kyuhyun, who once again surprised the older boy of his next-meeting possibilities.
Ryeowook sighed mentally, knowing that by now, his dreams never really come out the way he had predicated they would, and watched as Kyuhyun brushed some dirt of his jacket, back turned to his brother, and grabbed his bag, turning around and finally noticing him. Surprise flickered through his eyes, face almost filtered with shock. But a bland look replaced it, making Ryeowook wonder if he had just imagined it.
“Guess he went through it after all,” he said, more to himself than his brother. Ryeowook stayed mute, back against the bed, watching him warily. He had recognized that face, had seen it so many times through faded photographs, and even now, so many years later, not one ounce of hatred filled him, of jealously or dislike.
Only the need to be accepted as his family filled him, the need to be his brother, his older brother.
Kyuhyun watched him warily as well, bag slung over his shoulders. “Need to change the room I break into I guess,” he said, looking around, “since it’s your room now after all.” He moved away, walking through the door as he heard Ryeowook’s voice from behind him.
“I don’t-” voice cracking, Ryeowook swallowed, before starting again, “I don’t mind, it’s not my room in the first place. You could…you could use it anytime you want,” he finished, somewhat lamely as he went over the words in his head.
Kyuhyun continued walking, and softly opening the door, as so that no one heard him, he said, as the door was about to close shut, “you’ve lost weight.”
Ryeowook stared at the door well after it was shut, and continued to stare at it until it clicked. God gave me a chance to patch things up, and I’m going to take it. He no longer questioned why he was here, and it didn’t matter why his father accepted him after so long-there was reason why he had to stay, and he believed in it.
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Dinner was an awkward affair for everyone involved. The dining table was too long, and with his father at the end, his wife next to him, facing Ryeowook, and Kyuhyun next to his mother, the tension refused to leave so easily.
“So I hear you plan on majoring in music?” she said, filling the empty silence rather than out of curiosity. He nodded, chopsticks stilling in his hands, “I hope to graduate in a few years.”
“I see.”
Silence engulfed the table again as Ryeowook peeked over at Kyuhyun, who was shoving rice down his throat and pointedly ignoring everyone.
“So even Kyuhyun returned home in time for dinner today, a miracle indeed.” Ryeowook puzzled over the words, trying to detect a hint of sarcasm or such, but finding nothing. He had not spoken to his father yet, as he waited for the right words.
“From this day forward,” Ryeowook turned to look at him, as too his wife, and watching him speak, he felt nothing towards the man who was claimed to be his father. He could have hated him but there was little to hate when he didn’t even know anything about him.
“…you will take on the same classes as Kyuhyun is taking. Since you’re in college, you will be given tutors of etiquette, house management, company management, etc. until Kyuhyun graduates high school.”
Ryeowook filled in the rest, then you’ll be left on you’re on. He didn’t mind; he had already been on his own while he lived with his grandmother and after she had passed away, he had expected to get a job to pay for all his fees. Living with his father for a year, regardless of tutors, without any expense on his behalf, was more than he had wished for. He had expected nothing from his father his entire life and was left with only dreams and fantasies of what it would be like to live with him; one year in this house would be far more than enough to satisfy any of his dreams.
“But you can’t be serious about him-” his wife began talking, a worried expression on her face, and Ryeowook realized that it was his time to leave. Murmuring a thank you, he began to pick up his plates but a servant was at his side at once, telling him please, we’ll take it sir, and left him slightly flustered.
He bowed, quickly leaving the room, as interested eyes followed after him.
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Ryeowook loved music. He loved the way small tiny symbols could hold so much power, loved the way it can change, how it could go fast or slow, or high or low, loved the way it can be read like a book, but shown like a theater piece. He tried not to think of his dreams, since reality had shown him that they usually go about astray more than once, but once in a while the older boy would daydream, staring out the window, about his future and his hopes.
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[A/N]: I confess, i have always, always, wanted to do an incest fic. There's something about this that, idk, i really like. I wanted this to be short, but it keeps on growing, so we'll see how it goes ^^~