the small words are the hardest words. // shihan
dom små, små orden är svåra ord - kent, "chans"
Eng trans: "the small, small words are difficult words"
the smallest of words
super junior, siwon/hankyung, pre-debut r-rated for heavily implied sex + cursing. this never happened, i don't own anything.
note on language: The whole idea behind the fic was that our lovely Han is new and doesn't know Korean very well so when somebody jumps his bones, he doesn't know how to say "no" (cruel but the scenario amused me too much not to write it). Added to this is the difficulty that in Chinese there is no word 'no', just a few negative expressions you then add to a verb like "bu shi" - is not. If I messed up anything in either Mandarin or Korean, please point it out to me - I'm very prone to errors in these things. Also, not sure about how realistic this is but for the sake of the fic, Siwon doesn't know much Mandarin yet.
Han Geng feels his back hit one of the mirrors of the dance studio, a muffled thud and the other trainee's form pressing against him so he can't escape anywhere. He doesn't think this person even knows he's the new guy, the new Chinese guy for that matter, and that he's had two classes in Korean and can't even read the characters properly yet.
Korean mumbled against his throat in a desperate tone, lips touching his and Han Geng thinks, zhi guai - weird.
A little too weird for him, really, being in the country for just two weeks and being molested after dance class. All he did was dance.
The other boy's hand is very close to slipping inside the waistband of his practise slacks and Han Geng shivers. He better watch his steps if this is what dancing in Korea will get you into. He wants to say 'no' but he doesn't know the word in Korean, can't remember it.
An-something.
“Annyong!” he says in triumph and the other boy just looks at him.
“Annyong,” he answers in puzzlement.
Okay, that's not it. Han Geng slips out of the other person's hold, explaining in Chinese now, hoping some of his expressions will magically translate.
“Wo bu yao.” He doesn't want it. “No offence. This is very friendly of you, I didn't know Korean people were so open but I really don't want...” He trails off. Even in his native tongue he can't say 'a sloppy blowjob at a dusty dance studio' without blushing.
Not that the guy isn't hot, not that it would be a first time for something like this but this is, this is Korea. New beginnings, and he's a bit scared of random sexual encounters in what's technically his place of work. This is one of those chances he'd rather not risk messing up.
“Open?” the Korean guy repeats, the English loan word he apparently understood. Then a wide grin spreads over his face. He takes a few steps back and Han Geng has a moment of relief. Communication succeeded.
Except the over-friendly Korean only walks to the door to lock it.
He tries pulling at the handle to gesture now non-open it is right now and approaches Han Geng again.
Han Geng speaks the worst curse he knows in the entire Chinese language. Sorry, mom, he mentally apologizes immediately afterwards. The fellow trainee's hands find his hips, pulling him back and the kiss is more intense this time around, making Han Geng weirdly dizzy and for a really long moment he forgets about how much he doesn't want this.
**
It's not like Siwon means for it to happen. It's not his fault, in any case. The training is difficult, stressful. And suddenly they decide he's good, but not good enough, and make him have double the dance training, like he's the clumsiest trainee ever. Given, he's not super-talented in the department but the pressures are getting to him.
“Maybe you should practise with the new guy,” the manager tells him. “He's very good. You'll learn from him.”
The new guy doesn't say much. The new guy doesn't say anything, in fact, because he lets his body do the talking, his moves more graceful than in any ballet Siwon has ever seen and even the small amount of hiphop moves he has learned thus far are perfect. The new guy is pretty and lean (but who isn't?), big eyes that shy away from Siwon's every time he looks at them. An awkward giggle when he messes up, a bright smile when he succeeds in the same thing shortly after. He isn't just good; he's amazing.
Siwon hasn't ever fallen in love this fast. This hard, this hopelessly.
It's fucked up and ridiculous, but the need grows each private dance session they do together and by the third one, Siwon can't take it any more.
It's been a week since they first met, and the new guy - Hankyung as Siwon learned his name recently when the dance teacher said it - still hasn't said a word, a single word to him, none at all. Before they wander back to their lockers and showers, after their dance instructor has left, Siwon has had it.
He kisses the new guy just to find out if he has a tongue to speak with, and Hankyung is startled, scandalized but not really fighting it when Siwon kisses him and mumbles long ramblings, peculiar love confessions against the other person's soft skin. He's crazy, he knows, but Hankyung and his dance and his eyes and his smile, that's what drove him crazy. This silent peculiar creature. Siwon wants, needs, loves and - and...
“Hello!” Hankyung says.
Siwon pauses, breaking contact for a small moment. “Hello,” he replies.
Hankyng appears worried and wrestles out of Siwon's grasp. Not knowing what exactly is going on, Siwon lets him go and the reality hits him as soon as his hands leave the unfamiliar skin.
“Wo bu yao,” Hankyung says and launches into a ramble, an apologetic look in his eyes. It sounds like Mandarin to Siwon's ears but he's only learned the characters they had to at school, hardly any of the basics, maybe 'wo shi siwon', 'ni hao', that sort of things - he's never needed more. Somewhere amidst the speech Hankyung speaks an English word 'open'. Siwon grabs hold onto it, Hankyung finishes talking with an awkward look and a blush and Siwon puts two and two together.
The door. They don't want anybody walking in. Of course. He grins at Hankyung. So Siwon doesn't understand him and he doesn't understand Siwon. He didn't have to suffer through Siwon's cheesy and complex love confessions, just the good parts - kissing, touching, the promise of something more. This isn't really him, this sex-crazed bastard who preys on fresh boyband member immigrants, and he wishes he could tell that to Hankyung. This is just what Hankyung does to him.
He kisses Hankyung, and so they don't have a language, but he can teach Hankyung and vice versa, reciprocate back and forth until they know absolutely everything there is to know. He bites at Hankyung's lips and listens to the noises the other boy makes, hisses and gasps. Siwon strips him, careful and teasing, and wants like he's never wanted before, and he tries to make sure - not with words but with actions - that Hankyung knows that.
They leave the studio as sweaty and as exhausted as after the real practise. Siwon appreciates a good work-out but - as dirty as he feels for admitting it - he prefers this to dancing.
Before Hankyung gets into a taxi to go back to his place, Siwon whistles loudly to get his attention. When Hankyung turns, Siwon braces himself.
“Wo shi Siwon!” he yells and Hankyung just stares, offers a smile.
“Wo shi Han Geng,” he says.
Han Geng. Not Hankyung. Han Geng. His Han Geng.
**
The next morning Han Geng has Korean. The teacher is a very nice jie jie - sorry, noona - who's very patient with him and his errors. Today she looks at his arm.
“What happened?” she asks worriedly.
He didn't check for the arms, just threw a peculiar looking shawl around his neck to cover the love bites - goddamn Siwon used him as a chewtoy - so now he blushes, stammering something about having too small a hotel room.
“I keep bumping myself into corners.”
Corners. Finger print sized bruises on his hips, nail marks on his ass. Corners. Right.
“You just be careful, Han Geng. They need you in top shape, you'll have to stay healthy.” She smiles warmly. “You've been exercising through dance every day, though, haven't you?”
Unfortunately, yes. But he can't drown out the small disagreeing voice in his head, the devil on his shoulder, saying the truth about how much he liked it, how much he wanted it, too, how he could've said don't want, no if he really, truly had meant it. How this Siwon was the best he ever had, and how he wanted to repeat the experience, and how Siwon seemed to want it, too.
“What's Korean for 'no, don't want'?” Han Geng asks suddenly.
“Ahh, Korean actually has a word like the English 'no', that denies whatever is being said. It's 'aniyo',” the teacher says. She takes a whiteboard and writes out the hangul. “You see? Nul and A, that's 'a', the ni, and nul and yo. A-ni-yo. Easy.”
Aniyo.
He says it, tasting each syllable in his mouth. He doesn't like it.
“It's better to just agree, though, isn't it?” he says.
Teacher jie smiles. “Ye. Or ne.” Again she writes out the hangul. “You see? This means 'yes'.”
“Ne,” Han Geng says.
It's the one he's going to start using.
----
Ahh language cheese. Jie jie: Mandarin = noona: Korean = older sis, respectable term for older female but I'm sure y'all knew that by know.
Wo shi = I am.. in Mandarin. Again, I'm sure most of you knew but those of you who didn't, now you do!
Eng trans: "the small, small words are difficult words"
the smallest of words
super junior, siwon/hankyung, pre-debut r-rated for heavily implied sex + cursing. this never happened, i don't own anything.
note on language: The whole idea behind the fic was that our lovely Han is new and doesn't know Korean very well so when somebody jumps his bones, he doesn't know how to say "no" (cruel but the scenario amused me too much not to write it). Added to this is the difficulty that in Chinese there is no word 'no', just a few negative expressions you then add to a verb like "bu shi" - is not. If I messed up anything in either Mandarin or Korean, please point it out to me - I'm very prone to errors in these things. Also, not sure about how realistic this is but for the sake of the fic, Siwon doesn't know much Mandarin yet.
Han Geng feels his back hit one of the mirrors of the dance studio, a muffled thud and the other trainee's form pressing against him so he can't escape anywhere. He doesn't think this person even knows he's the new guy, the new Chinese guy for that matter, and that he's had two classes in Korean and can't even read the characters properly yet.
Korean mumbled against his throat in a desperate tone, lips touching his and Han Geng thinks, zhi guai - weird.
A little too weird for him, really, being in the country for just two weeks and being molested after dance class. All he did was dance.
The other boy's hand is very close to slipping inside the waistband of his practise slacks and Han Geng shivers. He better watch his steps if this is what dancing in Korea will get you into. He wants to say 'no' but he doesn't know the word in Korean, can't remember it.
An-something.
“Annyong!” he says in triumph and the other boy just looks at him.
“Annyong,” he answers in puzzlement.
Okay, that's not it. Han Geng slips out of the other person's hold, explaining in Chinese now, hoping some of his expressions will magically translate.
“Wo bu yao.” He doesn't want it. “No offence. This is very friendly of you, I didn't know Korean people were so open but I really don't want...” He trails off. Even in his native tongue he can't say 'a sloppy blowjob at a dusty dance studio' without blushing.
Not that the guy isn't hot, not that it would be a first time for something like this but this is, this is Korea. New beginnings, and he's a bit scared of random sexual encounters in what's technically his place of work. This is one of those chances he'd rather not risk messing up.
“Open?” the Korean guy repeats, the English loan word he apparently understood. Then a wide grin spreads over his face. He takes a few steps back and Han Geng has a moment of relief. Communication succeeded.
Except the over-friendly Korean only walks to the door to lock it.
He tries pulling at the handle to gesture now non-open it is right now and approaches Han Geng again.
Han Geng speaks the worst curse he knows in the entire Chinese language. Sorry, mom, he mentally apologizes immediately afterwards. The fellow trainee's hands find his hips, pulling him back and the kiss is more intense this time around, making Han Geng weirdly dizzy and for a really long moment he forgets about how much he doesn't want this.
**
It's not like Siwon means for it to happen. It's not his fault, in any case. The training is difficult, stressful. And suddenly they decide he's good, but not good enough, and make him have double the dance training, like he's the clumsiest trainee ever. Given, he's not super-talented in the department but the pressures are getting to him.
“Maybe you should practise with the new guy,” the manager tells him. “He's very good. You'll learn from him.”
The new guy doesn't say much. The new guy doesn't say anything, in fact, because he lets his body do the talking, his moves more graceful than in any ballet Siwon has ever seen and even the small amount of hiphop moves he has learned thus far are perfect. The new guy is pretty and lean (but who isn't?), big eyes that shy away from Siwon's every time he looks at them. An awkward giggle when he messes up, a bright smile when he succeeds in the same thing shortly after. He isn't just good; he's amazing.
Siwon hasn't ever fallen in love this fast. This hard, this hopelessly.
It's fucked up and ridiculous, but the need grows each private dance session they do together and by the third one, Siwon can't take it any more.
It's been a week since they first met, and the new guy - Hankyung as Siwon learned his name recently when the dance teacher said it - still hasn't said a word, a single word to him, none at all. Before they wander back to their lockers and showers, after their dance instructor has left, Siwon has had it.
He kisses the new guy just to find out if he has a tongue to speak with, and Hankyung is startled, scandalized but not really fighting it when Siwon kisses him and mumbles long ramblings, peculiar love confessions against the other person's soft skin. He's crazy, he knows, but Hankyung and his dance and his eyes and his smile, that's what drove him crazy. This silent peculiar creature. Siwon wants, needs, loves and - and...
“Hello!” Hankyung says.
Siwon pauses, breaking contact for a small moment. “Hello,” he replies.
Hankyng appears worried and wrestles out of Siwon's grasp. Not knowing what exactly is going on, Siwon lets him go and the reality hits him as soon as his hands leave the unfamiliar skin.
“Wo bu yao,” Hankyung says and launches into a ramble, an apologetic look in his eyes. It sounds like Mandarin to Siwon's ears but he's only learned the characters they had to at school, hardly any of the basics, maybe 'wo shi siwon', 'ni hao', that sort of things - he's never needed more. Somewhere amidst the speech Hankyung speaks an English word 'open'. Siwon grabs hold onto it, Hankyung finishes talking with an awkward look and a blush and Siwon puts two and two together.
The door. They don't want anybody walking in. Of course. He grins at Hankyung. So Siwon doesn't understand him and he doesn't understand Siwon. He didn't have to suffer through Siwon's cheesy and complex love confessions, just the good parts - kissing, touching, the promise of something more. This isn't really him, this sex-crazed bastard who preys on fresh boyband member immigrants, and he wishes he could tell that to Hankyung. This is just what Hankyung does to him.
He kisses Hankyung, and so they don't have a language, but he can teach Hankyung and vice versa, reciprocate back and forth until they know absolutely everything there is to know. He bites at Hankyung's lips and listens to the noises the other boy makes, hisses and gasps. Siwon strips him, careful and teasing, and wants like he's never wanted before, and he tries to make sure - not with words but with actions - that Hankyung knows that.
They leave the studio as sweaty and as exhausted as after the real practise. Siwon appreciates a good work-out but - as dirty as he feels for admitting it - he prefers this to dancing.
Before Hankyung gets into a taxi to go back to his place, Siwon whistles loudly to get his attention. When Hankyung turns, Siwon braces himself.
“Wo shi Siwon!” he yells and Hankyung just stares, offers a smile.
“Wo shi Han Geng,” he says.
Han Geng. Not Hankyung. Han Geng. His Han Geng.
**
The next morning Han Geng has Korean. The teacher is a very nice jie jie - sorry, noona - who's very patient with him and his errors. Today she looks at his arm.
“What happened?” she asks worriedly.
He didn't check for the arms, just threw a peculiar looking shawl around his neck to cover the love bites - goddamn Siwon used him as a chewtoy - so now he blushes, stammering something about having too small a hotel room.
“I keep bumping myself into corners.”
Corners. Finger print sized bruises on his hips, nail marks on his ass. Corners. Right.
“You just be careful, Han Geng. They need you in top shape, you'll have to stay healthy.” She smiles warmly. “You've been exercising through dance every day, though, haven't you?”
Unfortunately, yes. But he can't drown out the small disagreeing voice in his head, the devil on his shoulder, saying the truth about how much he liked it, how much he wanted it, too, how he could've said don't want, no if he really, truly had meant it. How this Siwon was the best he ever had, and how he wanted to repeat the experience, and how Siwon seemed to want it, too.
“What's Korean for 'no, don't want'?” Han Geng asks suddenly.
“Ahh, Korean actually has a word like the English 'no', that denies whatever is being said. It's 'aniyo',” the teacher says. She takes a whiteboard and writes out the hangul. “You see? Nul and A, that's 'a', the ni, and nul and yo. A-ni-yo. Easy.”
Aniyo.
He says it, tasting each syllable in his mouth. He doesn't like it.
“It's better to just agree, though, isn't it?” he says.
Teacher jie smiles. “Ye. Or ne.” Again she writes out the hangul. “You see? This means 'yes'.”
“Ne,” Han Geng says.
It's the one he's going to start using.
----
Ahh language cheese. Jie jie: Mandarin = noona: Korean = older sis, respectable term for older female but I'm sure y'all knew that by know.
Wo shi = I am.. in Mandarin. Again, I'm sure most of you knew but those of you who didn't, now you do!