stop looking at me, it's all too real
Title: stop looking at me, it's all too real
Pairing: Hyukjae x Kyuhyun
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 8300+
Note: This was meant to be canon, but the premise is sort of out there. I suppose it could be considered as a slight AU: in which Kyuhyun sketches, and Hyukjae pursues.
Summary: Sometimes, Kyuhyun doodles.
stop looking at me, it's all too real
Sometimes, Kyuhyun doodles.
It's not his first recreational activity of choice, but he's used to technology failing him at the worst times - i.e. when he's bored and actually has free time in between scheduled activities. Someone keeps draining his laptop battery (he's nearly positive it's Donghae, but he's going to need incriminating proof before he accuses his hyung of something so dire) and half the time it's too conspicuous pulling out his laptop anyway. Sketching, on the other hand, is surprisingly easy. So he scribbles on the edges of scripts, across sheets of tissue paper, on the undersides of music scores.
He doesn't really know why he chooses to doodle certain things over others, but he knows they're usually not subjects that people would first pick, nor even notice. He draws the fried chicken wing Ryeowook munches on in the corner, the makkoli passed round and round the dinner table, the comfy armchair Sungmin collapses into after a long day. They’re nothing fancy yet they capture his eye, and that's what matters.
Some of the pictures are attempted realism - re: his Boob Series, sketches of the breasts that have caught his attention over the years - but most of them don't come anywhere close. Then again, drawing realistically was never his intention anyway.
And perhaps that's why doodling works for him. He likes the idea of distortion, likes that when he doodles random stuff there is no need for perfection. No need to judge for errant lines and careless strokes of his pen. The image is up to him to shape completely. He’s finally in control.
It surprises him how stress-relieving drawing can be.
There's something therapeutic in drawing that one fan who camps behind their apartment complex like a mutant bear - not because she looks like one, but because she pisses the hell out of him. Or in sketching Jungsu all sharp angles and fully dominating the space of a whole page, skinniness and meek physical stature blatantly disregarded for the more pressing fact that Jungsu is imposing, overbearing, and sometimes - just sometimes, and he's loathe to admit it - he scares the shit out of Kyuhyun.
So fine, maybe he doodles a little more than the others do, but it doesn't seem like too big a deal. His bandmates have noticed but it’s not like they care. They joke about it, peek over his shoulder as he lazily slides his pen over paper. Most of the time they laugh at his drawings, high-pitched squeals that rattle throughout the room. What the fuck is that supposed to be? Are you sure that's what you meant to draw? is a common reaction, perhaps second only to Kyuhyun, you really suck, don't you? Kyuhyun flashes them glares and his bandmates grin cheekily. And they move on with their lives.
It's not art. It's not even anything worth looking at, really. But it's his.
He can tell that Hyukjae's worried about him when Kyuhyun says yet again that he's going to be staying back even longer. It's in the way his eyes fasten onto Kyuhyun, large and bright; in the way his reedy lips curve significantly downward. Donghae and Sungmin’d stayed back for a little bit as well, but even they had their limits. They flash Kyuhyun concerned glances as they leave. He shakes them off easily. He has months of experience, smiling just enough to be convincing as he tells them he'll be home soon.
Hyukjae scuffs his sneaker against the floor and shuffles behind Kyuhyun as he watches their last performance on his laptop. They stand silently, taking in the moves Kyuhyun hadn't performed as well as he could’ve, the seconds when his rhythm was just a little off, the moments when his voice sounded breathier than usual. Today's filming was particularly bad for Kyuhyun. He looks exhausted, as if he's barely going through the motions. They both can tell, and after the video ends and Kyuhyun presses replay, Hyukjae awkwardly breaks the silence.
“Why do they keep covering you from head to toe?” Hyukjae muses, tilting his head in amusement. “I mean, even Shindong wears less than you. There's something wrong with that picture.”
Kyuhyun snorts, though he doesn't deny it. Sungmin jokes that any day now, they're going to send Kyuhyun out to perform in a turtleneck, or a ski mask, a burqa maybe; and no one will notice a difference.
“To make up for the embarrassing amount of skin you've been revealing lately,” he retorts. Though Hyukjae rolls his eyes, Kyuhyun spots a slight flush.
The video ends. Hyukjae pulls Kyuhyun away from the laptop when he moves to play the performance yet again.
“Just dance,” Hyukjae says.
So they do.
Hyukjae laughs breathlessly as they collapse on the floor, attempting to catch their breath. It's late night or early morning. Kyuhyun isn't sure and frankly, doesn’t care. Time seems frozen in the dusty practice room as they sit side by side, staring at the smudge-stained mirrors that panel the walls. The mirrors distort their reflections just a bit, but it’s enough to give Kyuhyun a sudden domestic itch to clean them. Kyuhyun lets out a wheezing noise at the thought and Hyukjae sluggishly turns to him. He pokes Kyuhyun's side, bony finger pressing awkwardly into the crevice of his ribs. Kyuhyun winces.
“So what are you drawing all the time, anyway?”
Kyuhyun looks at him sharply, surprised at the suddenness of the question but not at the inquiry itself. These days, he's been using one of his school notebooks as a doodle pad, and it's become more and more common for Kyuhyun to whip it out when there's nothing else to do.
He shrugs in response, and Hyukjae narrows his eyes thoughtfully. “Then...can I see?” To Kyuhyun's shock, Hyukjae sounds hesitant, as if he thinks he may be encroaching on something personal and private. But it's not like Kyuhyun has anything to hide. Even if he were, no one can ever tell what he's drawing anyway.
He rolls to his backpack and pulls out the notebook, tossing it to Hyukjae who barely manages to catch it. He then flops down next to Hyukjae again and yawns.
It's not like Hyukjae is the first person to flip through the notebook. Sungmin had done so just the other day, laughing at particularly bizarre drawings. Donghae’d been mesmerized by the Boob Series. Ryeowook and Jongwoon also have had a lot of fun playing guessing games as to what everything was, much like children do on a clear day as they pick out the clouds.
Something about the way Hyukjae looks at his notebook is different.
He sits cross-legged in the middle of the floor, ratty notebook balanced in his lap as he takes in each picture. Hyukjae's eyes are clear as they carefully latch onto each subject. He looks fascinated, and that is new to Kyuhyun. Kyuhyun tries not to stare too hard as Hyukjae flips through each and every page, fingers roving over drawings of seatbelts, jajangmyun, wigs and skintight jeans.
After a while the sound of rustling sheets dies, and Kyuhyun glances up to see Hyukjae fixated on one page, eyes suddenly worn and lips pursed. Kyuhyun grunts as he sits back up, wincing briefly as a dull pain races through his thigh. Maybe he didn't stretch enough today. Or maybe he's just tired. Probably both.
It's a picture he’d drawn months ago on paper napkins, stapled onto one of the notebook sheets so he wouldn't lose it. A row of soju bottles are scattered across the page. They're all empty, balancing precariously on a ledge. Not that the picture itself looks like it. The bottles are colored in angry scratches of a bleeding ballpoint pen. Kyuhyun’d drawn the bottles to fill the whole napkin, to impose on the white space until he could practically imagine it cowering.
He wonders what Hyukjae thinks the bottles could be, and when he asks, Hyukjae's eyes shutter. He bites his lip and Kyuhyun waits patiently. Kyuhyun expects something ridiculous to fall out of Hyukjae's mouth. Like unicorns or penises.
“...Beer?”
Kyuhyun stares and Hyukjae ventures on. “Alcohol? Honestly, I have no idea what these blobs are,” Hyukjae laughs shortly, “but it looks like you drew this at a restaurant or something, and for some reason, that's the picture I have in my head. Maybe it's because I know you drink twenty bottles a night, you freak.” Kyuhyun snorts and Hyukjae shrugs, his voice purposefully light. “But they also look like malformed bananas, so who knows? It could just be a very shitty fruit still life. Though if those are bottles, I have to tell you something: you aren't doing it right.”
Kyuhyun's eyes are still wide with surprise, but he huffs. “It's abstract, jerk.”
Hyukjae snorts, smirk bright on his face as he realizes he’d actually guessed correctly. “Believe me. That's way more than abstract.” He pauses. “It's an interesting drawing, nonetheless. Really.”
He sounds completely sincere, and Kyu fights down the flushed heat that settles on the back of his neck and unfurls against his skin. He doesn’t succeed. “How did you know what it was?” he asks, curiosity practically dripping from each word.
Hyukjae pauses, glancing at Kyuhyun quickly before refocusing on the page in front of him. He smirks again, just slightly, and Kyuhyun just knows he’s going to say something stupid.
“Because I know you more than you know yourself,” Hyukjae says, voice breathy in what Kyuhyun assumes is an attempt at a sultry and seductive sort of tone. He puffs his chest out as he licks his lips exaggeratedly, batting his short lashes rapidly as he places a bony hand on Kyuhyun’s thigh.
Kyuhyun rolls his eyes.Typical. “Try again.”
Something flits through Hyukjae's expression at Kyuhyun's skepticism but before Kyuhyun can try and figure out what, Hyukjae looks at the picture again. He's still for a long time before his voice comes out, and this time it’s tiny and unsure.
“Because something about this picture to me is angry.” A pause, and Hyukjae avoids Kyuhyun's surprised and steady gaze for a while longer. “And I'm just as frustrated about it as you are,” he admits, or even ventures.
Kyuhyun's breath softly catches.
He thinks to when he’d drawn the picture, on a rare night out with his college friends. He’d drunk four bottles of soju all by himself, and then had watched with alarming clarity as his friends made utter fools of themselves with each shot they took. He hadn't done anything that night beyond sit at the bar and stare, and before he knew it, he'd been taken over by an inexplicable (perhaps slightly drunken) rage.
Hyukjae was right: Kyuhyun had been so angry. He still doesn’t fully know why. Angry, perhaps, at how alcohol had ruined Super Junior; angry at how he wasn't even trying to stop his friends from looking like asses; angry that even with all that he still continued to drink copious amounts. Just, angry.
He’d looked at the empty bottles strewn about the bar top then, at the strobe lights which were beginning to make his head spin, at his pale and fluttering fingers. Before he knew it, he was drawing on a paper napkin while his friends remained moaning at his feet.
Kyuhyun stares at Hyukjae, who looks sullen with each second of pregnant silence, or maybe vague and unsure. And then, Hyukjae sighs. He pats Kyuhyun's shoulder, eyes withdrawn but lips drawn together tightly in determination. He's got his hyung-face on now, and he stands, reaching a hand out to pull Kyuhyun up.
“It's getting late,” Hyukjae says. “And we're going to need a lot of rest for tomorrow.”
They go home without another word.
In retrospect, that should’ve been the first sign. But Kyuhyun's never been good with interests and attentions unless they smacked him straight in the face.
“You know, your drawings are actually kind of cool.”
Kyuhyun looks up in surprise, then swears as he almost dies. He turns back to his game quickly, gunning down a couple of errant zergs and making sure the coast is clear. After a moment's hesitation, he presses pause. This is rare, and he's surprised he did so so easily; he hates pausing in the middle of a mission and his bandmates have always known this. Furthermore, Hyukjae lives with him. His apartment mates know better than anyone not to bother Kyuhyun unless something is on fire or otherwise risk defenestration.
He briefly wonders if Hyukjae is high or something equally dumb, because how else could Hyukjae forget such a simple and important fact of life?
Though when he glances up, Hyukjae looks just as shocked that Kyuhyun had paused his game. Kyuhyun arches his brow pointedly and Hyukjae coughs.
“I couldn't see the screen from where I was. I didn't know you were playing, sorry,” Hyukjae says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
Kyuhyun's eyes scream you-are-so-stupid-why-do-I-put-up-with-this as they remain glued to Hyukjae, who hovers in front of him awkwardly. “I was on the computer,” Kyuhyun says levelly. “What else would I be doing?”
“The essay that you've been bitching about since Monday?” Hyukjae tries.
Kyuhyun glares. “You are not funny.”
“Maybe next time,” Hyukjae shrugs. He sits down beside Kyuhyun and leans his elbows on the table. “If I'd known that talking about your drawings would get you this hot and bothered-” Hyukjae cuts off at the discomfited look Kyuhyun immediately flashes him.
Kyuhyun swallows as he wonders, a little surprised and embarrassed at how quickly he’d revealed his discomfort. No one else has ever cared enough to talk about his sketches beyond the casual insult. Hyukjae’s compliment, albeit brief and joking, confuses Kyuhyun utterly. Kyuhyun's wide-eyed stare makes Hyukjae’s expression slide into something vaguely apologetic, and he scratches the back of his neck again, a nervous gesture. “I was wondering if you had some free time-”
“For you?” Kyuhyun interrupts quickly, hoping to regain the ground he’d lost with his earlier slip. “Never.” Hyukjae rolls his eyes, continuing smoothly.
“I was hoping you could help me with some vocal training.” Kyuhyun blinks, while Hyukjae chuckles nervously, raking bony fingers through his hair. “They're considering giving me some more singing parts, which...would be sort of awesome.”
Kyuhyun leans back in his seat, threading his fingers loosely over the tabletop. “And what, rapping isn't good enough for you?”
Hyukjae gives him a steady look. “I wouldn't mind being able to sing an extra line or two in some of our slower songs.”
“Ah,” Kyuhyun says.
Honestly, even before Hyukjae’d explained why he needed help, Kyuhyun knew he would say yes. It's the least Kyuhyun could do to reciprocate after the months of dance lessons Hyukjae’s provided, and they both know it. Though he'll admit that a part of him pretends that Hyukjae’d asked him not only because Kyuhyun owes him a favor, but because he thinks Kyuhyun's the best.
Still, he pretends to be unmoved. “Ah,” he repeats, “I see. So you've resorted to bribing me with compliments?”
Hyukjae looks confused for a second before remembering his greeting, and he chuckles. “See the compliment however you want. I may not be a connoisseur and you're in no way an artist-” Kyuhyun moves to smack him but they're both grinning. “But I still meant it. Some of them are pretty nice. Now can you help me?”
Kyuhyun almost says yes, but then he pauses. He hates admitting that people are better than him, but... “But honestly, Ryeowook would probably be a much better coach than I would.” Hyukjae freezes, beginning to look a little put-down. Kyuhyun hurries to continue. “He's really thorough about these things, and he has good ideas on how to help people improve their skills. I just...I'm generally impatient, and whiny. And if you don't do things correctly I yell and make threatening gestures. You know I would.”
Hyukjae smiles at that, leaning over to grab Kyuhyun's shoulder firmly. “I'll take it,” he says, voice mockingly solemn, eyes warm. “I'm used to your abuse.”
They fall into a routine. Kyuhyun sings and Hyukjae dances, but that's the easy part. This is what they're used to.
The harder part is helping the other do so just as easily. The role-reversal they both desire is hardly an easy one, and they both know it from the get-go. Kyuhyun still isn't used to singing the whole length of a song as well as dancing. His limbs are too long; they hang so uselessly at his sides as he flails them awkwardly in an attempt at dance. But Hyukjae is nevertheless there to guide Kyuhyun's feet when Kyuhyun can't summon the energy. Likewise, Kyuhyun picks Hyukjae's breathing habits and posture apart with a vengeance, and though they both complain (Hyukjae more so than Kyuhyun, surprisingly, but that’s only because Kyuhyun is a vicious son of a bitch when he instructs), they both know they're doing what they can to improve. And that's what matters.
Hyukjae doesn't bring up the drawings again and Kyuhyun doesn't really care, but sometimes he sees the way Hyukjae looks at Kyuhyun. The way Hyukjae looks at his notebook, almost burning holes where drawings would be. And Kyuhyun wonders.
Kyuhyun gets proverbially smacked on the face on a Thursday.
They're sitting in one of the choral rooms on a late night, taking a tea break before hitting the chords again. Hyukjae's looking at the notebook Kyuhyun is doodling in out of the corner of his eye but refusing to ask questions. Kyuhyun asks him what's on his mind.
Hyukjae hums, waving his hand in an uncharacteristically vague manner, and Kyuhyun sighs. “Why do you care so much?” he blurts out. For a second, Hyukjae looks confused, but then Kyuhyun waves his notebook around in response. He flushes a little with how whiny his voice sounds, and levels his gaze at the doorknob behind Hyukjae's head.
“Honestly?” Hyukjae asks, and Kyuhyun barely pauses before he nods slowly. He wants to know. Hyukjae clears his throat, and Kyuhyun finds himself leaning forward.
“Your boobs,” Hyukjae says.
Kyuhyun blinks. He thinks there might be some mistake here. Hyukjae catches Kyuhyun's horrified stare, and he bursts out laughing.
“Not. Not your boobs, unless there's something you're not telling me. I mean your Boob Series's boobs. You say they're the most realistically drawn, but...Kyuhyun, they look like balloons. Really oddly shaped balloons, and there is no way Taeyeon's boobs are bigger than Sooyoung's. It's impossible. You should stop kidding yourself now.” Kyuhyun glares at the insult to his finest masterpiece, and Hyukjae plods on awkwardly., flush on the tip of his ears. “Um, so yeah, what I'm trying to say is that even when you try to draw realistically, you end up drawing what you really think, or feel, or...whatever.”
Kyuhyun still looks confused, and Hyukjae eyes the way Kyuhyun grips his tea a little tighter. “You already know that I suck,” Kyuhyun grumbles.
Hyukjae shakes his head adamantly. “It's not that.” He pauses. “Well,” he smirks, “it's not just that.” Kyuhyun shoves at him and Hyukjae laughs, high-pitched and uncontrolled. It takes moments for Hyukjae to calm down and look Kyuhyun in the eye again, serious once more.
“Don’t laugh,” Hyukjae warns, and Kyuhyun raises his hands peaceably.
“Your sketches...they draw on something. I mean, yeah, they're insane and dumb-looking, but...” he pauses, eyes darting every which way as he fiddles with his fingers, flush brighter and brighter on pale skin. “...I think they reveal more of your emotions than anything else, even if you aren't sure what exactly. It's like-”
Hyukjae breaks off and glances down, looking suddenly frustrated. His fist tightens in his lap, forcibly twisting fingers into his jeans. “You joke around all the time, and are sarcastic and bitchy and you but...I get the impression you still have your guard up even against us, even after all this time. As if...you're worried about showing us how you really feel about things. Lately, you've been getting better but...I guess I just want to understand why. I want-” And he freezes.
Kyuhyun exhales shakily, breaking the sudden silence. Hyukjae tenses even further at the noise, still refusing to look in Kyuhyun's vicinity. He would've never guessed that Hyukjae had paid that much attention to Kyuhyun's stupid doodles for...an actual reason. He'd assumed it was going to be something silly. He’d imagine Hyukjae saying something slightly mocking and stupid that they could laugh over, and then they’d both move on and pretend it never happened.
This, though. This is something different, and scary, and Kyuhyun’s mind races. The implications of what Hyukjae could possibly by saying makes Kyuhyun’s throat tighten and his eyes wide. Hyukjae cares, and he wants to understand Kyuhyun's feelings, and it’s just so...unexpected.
After all, they’re not supposed to be talking about these things. They’re men, they’re friends, and there are just some conversations men aren’t supposed to have. Kyuhyun knows this, and Hyukjae knows this. Which is why there are alarm sirens blaring in Kyuhyun’s overloaded mind at this point. Kyuhyun would be stupid to interpret Hyukjae’s admission otherwise. There is the possibility that Kyuhyun is way off, but he brushes that thought aside quickly. He usually isn't - he prides himself on this sort of thing. And it is for this reason that Kyuhyun's mouth dries as he stares, stares, stares at Hyukjae.
There's something else that's going on here, Kyuhyun realizes, and it has the potential to fuck them over for good.
“Are you,” Kyuhyun stammers, flushing because fuck, he's always been a little more direct than a dongsaeng should be. He hesitates briefly, wondering if he could brush this under the rug and they could just pretend it never happened. But Hyukjae still isn’t looking at him, and maybe Kyuhyun’s a little vindictive, or maybe he’s just a dick, but in a flash he decides to go straight for the jugular. “Is there something else you're trying to tell me here?”
Hyukjae's eyes widen as they dart to Kyuhyun’s face, but he doesn't look too surprised. His eyes are dark and full as they practically dare Kyuhyun to tear his own away; Kyuhyun finds that he can't. “Do you think it's worth the effort?” Hyukjae asks. He’s on the brink of sweating now, looking more uncomfortable and worried than Kyuhyun's seen him in a while. He swears Hyukjae's voice lowers just a bit, a smidgen of gravel in his tone, and it makes Kyuhyun nervous.
“I don't know,” is what finally falls from Kyuhyun's mouth and his eyes widen, nearly as large as Hyukjae's already are. He wants to take the words back somehow, but Kyuhyun knows he can't. It's true, Kyuhyun doesn't know. He's never thought about it before.
Hyukjae leans forward in his chair, so close, scrutinizing Kyuhyun carefully before he straightens. He firms his shoulders and looks Kyuhyun straight in the eye, and Kyuhyun’s lips purse at the determined gleam in Hyukjae's expression.
He clears his throat violently then, grasping for some semblance of normality. “Let's get back to the chords,” he says gruffly, and Hyukjae sits back slowly. His eyes are half-shuttered but he doesn't look completely upset. He lets Kyuhyun change the topic with a small nod.
Kyuhyun feels a little stupid for not noticing earlier.
Or maybe he feels a little stupid for suddenly noticing altogether too much.
Because Hyukjae looks at him differently, and Kyuhyun looks at him differently, and suddenly everything between them has changed. It’s not like they talk about it. Kyuhyun doesn't think either of them dare to and he's grateful for that. On the other hand, they don’t stop talking to each other either. They continue to joke around, to help each other, and somehow - perhaps through Hyukjae’s sheer will alone - their conversations manage to remain light and avoid the main issue at hand. Kyuhyun thinks it’s because of this that he lets Hyukjae get a little closer.
Though it could also be because Hyukjae is almost captivating.
Almost, because it's not like Hyukjae acts any differently than usual. He's still dorky, and ridiculous, and cheerfully unaware. His laughter is bright and smile kind, all gums and wholesome intentions. He still squeezes his eyes shut right before gobbling everything down, and he still flicks food bits at Kyuhyun’s face and steals things when he thinks he isn't looking. He still dances like the world is going to end at any moment, still lifts Kyuhyun up from the ground to try again. He is still, unfailingly, him.
But then Hyukjae steals a glance at Kyuhyun when he's lying on the ground, panting and weary, and Kyuhyun is lost. He doesn’t get how Hyukjae can look so happy and so ridiculous all at the same time. How Hyukjae can look at him like that with unabashed shame, like he cares, cares so damn much. Not only about the group, which would be the usual first assumption. But maybe, just maybe, a little more for him.
These days, Hyukjae touches Kyuhyun with purpose, intimate in ways Kyuhyun should be used to after years of fanservice. But it feels like there’s intent, somehow. Hyukjae wraps an arm around his waist, and tucks his chin loosely into Kyuhyun's shoulder, and rests a hand reassuringly on his forearm. Always simple and innocent, fleeting and brief. But all Kyuhyun can think, embarrassingly, is an endless streamer of soclose’s. And that Hyukjae smells like pine nuts and kimchi.
It's all this that makes him realize, on an evening like any other when Hyukjae hands him a bottle of water and says firmly that things will be okay: he isn't in love with Hyukjae or anything, but he has to admit that the feeling Hyukjae stirs in him isn't completely vomit-inducing.
One day before they head to the gym, Hyukjae pulls Kyuhyun aside from the hustle and bustle of the crowded dressing room.
“Want to grab something to eat?” Kyuhyun stares at him. He's the one who usually has to make his hyungs treat him with barbed compliments and pouts. Hyukjae usually has always agreed, albeit grudgingly, but rarely has he initiated. Hyukjae waves a vague hand, though his gaze is carefully glued to the cell phone in Kyuhyun's hands. He’s smiling so carefully, insecurity stark in his eyes. He looks like he’s anticipating rejection. And it’s this that makes Kyuhyun relax. “We need some carbs, all the extra energy we can get.”
Still, Kyuhyun appraises him silently. Is this a date? Is this going to be a big deal? He then shakes his head mentally, rebuking himself for reading too much into this. Hyukjae probably just wants some ramyeon and someone to eat it with. Even so, Hyukjae isn't one to treat often, and Kyuhyun remembers that he only has about five thousand won in his wallet at the moment. He glances around the room for Donghae, wondering if he can squirrel Donghae into coming. At least then Kyuhyun knows he'll be taken care of.
Hyukjae seems to read Kyuhyun's thought process, and with a small laugh, slaps Kyuhyun on the back. “Okay fine, I'll treat, okay? Be honored at your special privilege and say 'thank you, Hyung'.”
Immediately, Kyuhyun beams.
“Thank you, Hyung,” he says cheekily, forcing his tone to sound completely insincere, though his smile is wide and smug on his face. Hyukjae rolls his eyes.
“The things I do for you,” Hyukjae says.
Kyuhyun pauses, realizing just how true that is. He also realizes, with a flash of embarrassment, that he's never really thanked Hyukjae before. Not even for helping him dance, let alone for taking care of him as his hyung. He thinks perhaps he was always a little too proud, a little too embarrassed to.
So Kyuhyun smiles, softer, and he makes sure Hyukjae sees that he means it. “Thank you,” he says again. Hyukjae starts slightly in surprise. Under the bright fluorescent light, Kyuhyun thinks he imagines the flush that creeps underneath Hyukjae's sharp cheekbones.
After dinner, Hyukjae hands him a bag and Kyuhyun is hesitant to take it. But Hyukjae is insistent. So with a mumbled thanks, Kyuhyun peers into the bag.
It's a book of some sort, still wrapped in clear plastic, and when Kyuhyun pulls it out, he stares at Hyukjae.
“It's a sketchbook,” Hyukjae says, though Kyuhyun can see that already.
“Oh,” Kyuhyun says dumbly. Eloquence: he has it, really.
“It's thanks for all the help you've given me,” Hyukjae continues. “I finally got to meet with the voice instructors this morning. Apparently, I've improved. I can't recall why,” he teases. He doesn’t even try to hide his shy but brilliant smile.
“First with the compliments, now with the gifts,” Kyuhyun muses, and watches in amused concern as Hyukjae nearly chokes, “whatever will you do next?”
It's the first time Kyuhyun's really brought up the something that's been going on between them, and the occasion isn’t lost on either of them. Hyukjae takes his time chewing before he looks at Kyuhyun.
“I don't know,” Hyukjae says, and Kyuhyun is swiftly reminded of when Kyuhyun had said those exact words, and the doors had opened. “What do guys normally do when they pursue other guys?”
Kyuhyun stares, so shocked at Hyukjae's honesty that he can't help but reciprocate. “Well, I don't hate it.” Hyukjae looks at him and Kyuhyun flushes, spearing a muscle with one of his chopsticks to distract himself. And really, pursue? What era is this, exactly? Still, Kyuhyun finds himself...pleased. Touched, perhaps. “Whatever you're doing...I don't,” Kyuhyun admits softly.
Hyukjae beams then, and he steals a piece of squid from Kyuhyun's bowl.
Kyuhyun first uses the sketchbook later that night. He's just finished up a mission in his Starcraft game and he sits back with a content sigh. As he shuts down his computer, he finally takes in his surroundings and smiles when he sees his apartment mates huddled around the kitchen table. They're betting on football matches and talking loudly about hot girls. Ryeowook waves his spatula around emphatically and nearly knocks Sungmin out in the process, causing Hyukjae and Jongwoon to snicker with glee.
There's a moment when Hyukjae looks up and sees Kyuhyun observing the group. He immediately smiles and Kyuhyun's eyes are filled with the brilliance of it. Kyuhyun nods then, shortly, and they both look down. One to the magazine in front of him and the other to his untouched sketchbook.
Kyuhyun thinks it may be fitting that his first drawing in that new sketchbook is of Hyukjae.
It isn't his last either. Hyukjae isn't the best looking guy in the world but it's okay because Kyuhyun isn't the best doodler. Despite these facts, Kyuhyun begins to fill more and more pages with flashes of Hyukjae. He still doodles whatever catches his fancy, like the turtles who sit stupidly on Jongwoon's stomach when he's playing with them, or Ryeowook when he dares to walk around makeup-less. But the last few pages are riddled with the shape of Hyukjae's thin ear, the lopsided smile that is more gum than lip, the tone of a lean muscle that clenches with each push up.
So he's almost surprised when Hyukjae asks, quite hesitantly one day, “Have you ever drawn me before?”
They're in the living room on the couches, lounging during a drama's commercial break. They're both drunk with a mix of soju, exhaustion and hunger. A pack of puffed corn sits between them so that they could both go through it like ravenous wolves; Hyukjae holds it up loosely so its contents won’t spill over. Kyuhyun stares, his hand hovering in the bag and sticky with the corn's residue.
You have no idea is what Kyuhyun wants to say, but he doesn't.
He has no idea how to tell Hyukjae that a decent amount of his recent sketches feature Hyukjae in some embarrassing way, fragments of Hyukjae so carefully tucked away in odd and scratchy doodles.
So instead, he smirks.
“Well this is forward of you,” Kyuhyun attempts to drawl. “My chastity may not be able to bear it.”
Hyukjae grins, seemingly unfazed. “Well, I’ve decided to try it out,” he says, “this 'being forward' thing.”
“I see,” Kyuhyun says, and though he's not quite sure why, he shuffles over to his backpack. Something in the back of his mind warns him that this has the potential to be really humiliating but he dutifully ignores it, handing over his sketchbook with only a slight quiver in his hand.
Hyukjae takes it carefully into his own, as if it's something precious.
As Hyukjae begins to peruse it slowly, Kyuhyun cocks his head. His next words are spoken on a whim, but he'll admit he's curious. “Which one do you think is yours?”
Hyukjae snorts in amusement. “What, you mean I'm only worth one drawing?” Still, he doesn't seem offended, and he looks even closer at each and every picture.
The drama starts again. The lead female is in tears and the supporting actor stoic in his support. Typical really, and not exactly Kyuhyun's cup of tea. But he forces himself to watch, only peeking glances at Hyukjae once in a while. Hyukjae is silent mostly, concentrating, barely noticing the violin soundtrack heavy in the speakers and the way Kyuhyun can't stop fidgeting.
To distract himself, he gulps down the rest of his soju and grabs a third bottle from the cabinet. He plays mind games with himself, taking a drink every time he so much as wants to look at Hyukjae's reactions, and finally, finally he begins to feel it weigh his limbs down and make him contentedly sleepy. Another character is beginning to wail out her feelings, and with a disgusted snort - feelings, ugh - he lets his eyes slowly fall shut.
He wakes up to the gentle shaking of his shoulder and blinks back the exhaustion that weighs on his eyelids. His glasses are askew but he swears he sees a fond sort of look in Hyukjae's eyes, veiled by a more obvious nervousness. Kyuhyun wakes up a little more then, and he spots his sketchbook in Hyukjae's other hand.
“Did you find it?” Kyuhyun asks groggily, rubbing his fingers furiously beneath metal frames.
Hyukjae simply hands the book back, almost shakily, and Kyuhyun flips through the sheets with a thinly veiled eagerness. Eventually, he lands on the page where Hyukjae has inserted a small slip of paper.
He's shocked at how disappointed he is.
Kyuhyun stares, and after a second, he tries to force words out of his mouth; to say something witty, caustic, anything. But instead, he can't tear his eyes away from a rather mundane sort of sketch that has absolutely nothing to do with Hyukjae at all.
He doesn’t know why, but he’d been so sure, so confident that Hyukjae would be able to pick out at least one of his drawings of him correctly. He'd always figured them out before, had always been able to tell. And there's the, the thing they're supposed to have. Hyukjae would've seen it when no one else could...right? Or perhaps Kyuhyun had been expecting too much.
It stings, somehow, in a way Kyuhyun had never expected it to. Burns, even; if he’s willing to be honest with himself.
Hyukjae looks like he’s about to laugh, but then he sees the shock slapped onto Kyuhyun's features and his expression shifts nervously.
“Kyuhyun,” Hyukjae starts, and that's when Kyuhyun remembers, with startling clarity, who he is supposed to be. He is Cho Kyuhyun, and he does not do these embarrassing displays of his feelings. How could he let himself forget? How could he let himself fall so far, and so pathetically at that? He steels his will and refuses to look Hyukjae in the eye.
“This is a rug,” Kyuhyun says slowly, and winces inwardly at how forced, how controlled each word sounds. He barely even remembers drawing it weeks ago. Kyuhyun thinks he may’ve only done so because he thought the pattern was pretty. He breathes through his nose and attempts nonchalance. “Though I can see the resemblance.” Or maybe not. He's rambling now - someone shut me up god damn it shut me up - “I mean, you get walked on all the time.”
Hyukjae sucks in a sharp breath, and Kyuhyun thinks weakly that he probably looks just as stricken as Hyukjae.
“And who did all the walking?” Hyukjae asks bitingly, face an ugly mix of regret and something else. Hurt, maybe? Hyukjae looks so upset in that moment, so unsure, that it’s almost enough to make Kyuhyun pause. Still, for a split second Kyuhyun feels vaguely triumphant. Immediately after which, he feels terrible that he's feeling victorious over something so stupid. “Kyuhyun-”
At that point, Kyuhyun doesn’t bother to stay. He blames immaturity, soju, anything; but he refuses to blame himself. How can it be his fault when Hyukjae’s the one who started this?
There's a roar in Kyuhyun's ears as he leaves.
It doesn't last for long. Later that night, though it's really early morning, he raps on Hyukjae's door. Nothing happens at first, and he tries again, waiting awkwardly for the shuffling behind wood to end. Hyukjae slowly opens the door.
This wasn't Kyuhyun's plan, originally. The initial plan was to be miserable and stay miserable, to wallow in his self-pity as he vowed to curse Hyukjae's ignorance to the pits of hell. But then the guilt took over, as well as the fourth bottle of soju, and here he was. Or something like that. Mostly, he can’t sleep, and for once he knows the exact reason why.
It may also be because Kyuhyun likes Hyukjae, at least a little, which is probably the reason why he feels about ready to punch a wall in frustration.
Hyukjae straightens uncomfortably the moment he sees who's at the door, but he doesn’t look surprised. He croaks out a hello, tiredly rubs his eyes. He glances down and blanches at his bare chest, avoiding Kyuhyun's gaze as he hurries to slip into a wifebeater.
Finally, Hyukjae is clothed and standing in front of him again, gazing at Kyuhyun with practiced calm. Kyuhyun swallows, and for a minute he stalls for time by rocking back and forth on his heels. Finally he winces at his pathetic nature. He pinches himself for focus, forcing his pride down with an angry fuck you.
“I'm sorry for what I said,” he says. He blinks. “...hyung,” he adds belatedly, but no less sincerely. Hopes Hyukjae can see it.
Hyukjae is silent, crossing his arms slowly as he leans against the door frame.
“You know,” he observes. “I don't think I've ever seen you so irrational before.” He lets himself look a little smug at the thought, but Kyuhyun can tell he's mostly exhausted. He probably’d gotten just as little sleep as Kyuhyun had earlier that night.
Kyuhyun nods slowly. “I don't like being irrational,” Kyuhyun admits, and Hyukjae snorts softly. “I get stupid about these things. You know. Feelings. Emotions make me irrational. I like being rational.” He’s beginning to ramble again, and Kyuhyun pinches himself a second time. Hyukjae looks vaguely amused at the action but Kyuhyun can’t even stir the energy to glare. “I'm sorry,” he repeats.
Hyukjae shakes his head tiredly, though Kyuhyun notes with relief that he looks just a little less upset with Kyuhyun. “You drank some more tonight, didn't you?” Kyuhyun stiffens, deflating a bit before he says yes. Hyukjae hums. “Needed some liquid courage, huh?” The question is followed by a nervous chuckle.
“Yes,” he says honestly, hoping Hyukjae hears the apology even in that word alone. He thinks Hyukjae does.
And then there's a pause, still tense but thankfully less so, as the two of them train their eyes on each other. Hyukjae looks nervous again. It's not a good look on Hyukjae, Kyuhyun notes idly. He exhales loudly to break the silence.
“It's fine that you thought you were a rug,” Kyuhyun says. Hyukjae immediately stiffens and Kyuhyun curses the way he says things, so careless and unforgiving. He makes sure to tread very carefully. “My drawing is shit. I don't think anyone would have gotten it.”
Hyukjae’s still stiff, but his lip quirks minutely. His mouth barely curve upwards, for a beat at most, but Kyuhyun sees it.
“You should flip through the book one more time,” Hyukjae says slowly, carefully. “You never know what you may find.”
Kyuhyun pauses. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was there. Wait. What. “What did you do?” Kyuhyun asks, voice even and deathly quiet. His voice is more acerbic than trusting, bordering on terrified. He's almost gratified to see Hyukjae wince at the tone.
Hyukjae grabs the sketchbook from his dresser and hands it to Kyuhyun shakily. “Something I realize wasn't as funny as I thought it would be.”
Kyuhyun barely takes it into his hands. It feels like a leaden weight and for a brief moment, Kyuhyun hates it. Moments later, he still can't summon the courage to flip through it. He's afraid of what he'll find, of the mistake he may’ve made, and Hyukjae can sense it. So Hyukjae swallows, placing his hands over Kyuhyun’s. Kyuhyun lets Hyukjae slowly guide them to another page, skipping over the rug sketch quickly to the page right after.
Now this, this is a picture of Hyukjae.
At first, all Kyuhyun feels is an immense sense of relief along with a pent-up and frustrated joy that Hyukjae had in fact found one correctly. But then he looks again, and he thinks he can see why Hyukjae had picked this particular page over all the others. It's a drawing of Hyukjae in the middle of a dance move, the curve in his back elongated but smooth. His limbs are long and awkward, but strong as it commands the white space around it. Like most of Kyuhyun’s drawings, it doesn't look much like the subject. But it's sensual, dangerous, and exactly how he saw Hyukjae in his mind as he'd danced.
In the corner, Hyukjae's writing curves as the letters shakily spell out a simple question: “Do you really see me like this?”
They both stare at the page for a long time.
Finally, Kyuhyun swallows. “You vandalized it,” he murmurs. He looks up to Hyukjae fumbling with the drawstrings of his sweats. Regret is stark and clear on Hyukjae's face.
“It was going to be a joke,” he says. “I was going to surprise you by flipping to the next page. I didn’t expect you to...freak out like that.” Kyuhyun begins to glare and Hyukjae continues hurriedly. “But I shouldn't have anyway.” He exhales and looks Kyuhyun straight in the eye, expression honest and open. “This isn't a joke.”
Kyuhyun can only nod numbly, and he begins to mumble. Ramble. Again. “Right. I may like you. I'm not sure yet. Is that okay?”
Hyukjae's eyes widen and Kyuhyun forces himself to shut up. He almost wishes he were drunk and could blame the alcohol somehow, but he's always been a little too honest at the worst of times. He’s about to mentally kick himself when Hyukjae looks at him carefully, barely concealing a smile.
“Sure, if that's okay with you,” he says finally. “I've been told I'm a lousy lover.” It's said in jest, and though Hyukjae’s eyes are twinkling, what Kyuhyun thinks Hyukjae is really doing is giving him an out.
Which is nice of Hyukjae, and so very typical of him, but Kyuhyun thinks they're both in a little too far deep for that.
“Does it really matter how I see you?” he asks instead.
Hyukjae's responding expression is almost comical, as if the question is completely preposterous. Kyuhyun realizes belatedly that it probably is. “Of course it does.”
Kyuhyun tries again. “Did you want me to see you like this?” he clarifies, waving at the picture.
At that, Hyukjae freezes. He nods infinitesimally, but it's enough for the both of them.
A pause. Kyuhyun is still, eyes darting every which way in the small space of Hyukjae's room. It's neat, organized, the same as it's always been. Manga lines the shelves and there are shoe boxes everywhere. The only light on is a desk lamp, and Hyukjae's room actually doesn't smell that bad. Though that may be because there are air fresheners plugged in at every corner. The room is awash in an odd mix of lavender, cotton-fresh clean and cedar wood.
And then Kyuhyun's gut wrenches. How on earth is he focusing on all the stupid details and none of the important ones? He turns bodily, looking steadily at Hyukjae.
Finally, Hyukjae rolls his eyes. “It looks like I'm going to have to be the hyung in this relationship, yet again,” he says, and Kyuhyun raises a brow. Hyukjae swallows, stepping forward until Kyuhyun has to gaze down to see him. He sighs dramatically, shakily, but Hyukjae’s smile is warm as he tilts his face upward, flushing just a little. “Or I may just be crazy.”
We're both so crazy, is on the tip of Kyuhyun's tongue. But then Hyukjae leans forward, and his lips press gently, so carefully against Kyuhyun's bottom lip, catching on the ridge and his chin. It's a clumsy kiss, awkward, but Kyuhyun's mind is blank and his heart threatens to break down on him with every movement Hyukjae makes. Hyukjae shifts below him and Kyuhyun's mouth grazes against his cheek.
“Hyung,” he says.
Hyukjae's eyes darken minutely but even in the dim lighting Kyuhyun catches it. He presses against Kyuhun a little more insistently, and Kyuhyun folds. Kyuhyun's fingers lock themselves in the folds of Hyukjae's top, and Hyukjae has an arm wrapped solidly around Kyuhyun’s torso, and they kiss.
And they kiss.
When Kyuhyun wakes up, it's to Hyukjae. Hyukjae is snoring, mouth agape, and it's so unattractive that Kyuhyun nearly lets out a laugh. Kyuhyun shifts carefully, crawling out of the bed - which really isn't made for two grown men - and grabs his sketchbook and a pen from Hyukjae's desk. He rubs sweaty palms on his sweatpants as he sits on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over his knee.
He sketches.
He draws the lashes of Hyukjae's crusted-over eye, the drool that just begins to collect at the corner of his mouth, the tousled hair that sticks out every which way. It's all so close to him now, every detail, and Kyuhyun soaks it all in.
Kyuhyun thinks Hyukjae will never be the most beautiful person, or most handsome, or even most charming. And neither will he.
But what they do have is this: Hyukjae can look at him and know him and want to know him. And Kyuhyun isn’t afraid of the fact. Maybe that’s enough.
Maybe it’s enough for Kyuhyun to give them a chance.
Hyukjae wakes up moments after Kyuhyun has gotten back in bed, this time as he shades in the heavy bags under Hyukjae's eyes. Hyukjae's hand rests in the smooth space where Kyuhyun's t-shirt had ridden up, and he uses the hand as leverage to peer at what Kyuhyun is drawing.
He snorts once he gets it, and he tugs at Kyuhyun’s tee with an exaggerated whine.
“Is this how you really see me?” His voice drips offense but the quirk of his lip and the laughter in his eyes gives him away.
Kyuhyun simply smiles, pressing a small kiss in response firmly on Hyukjae's upper lip.
“Yes,” he says.
AN: I wrote this a while ago while I was in a self-indulgent sort of mood, but I hope it was okay anyway. And yes, I know it’s been a while T____T.
(Also, I still believe the plural form of penis should be peni :/ But I shall conform to the standard pluralized form of penises. If I must. Sighs.)
::waves::
Pairing: Hyukjae x Kyuhyun
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 8300+
Note: This was meant to be canon, but the premise is sort of out there. I suppose it could be considered as a slight AU: in which Kyuhyun sketches, and Hyukjae pursues.
Summary: Sometimes, Kyuhyun doodles.
stop looking at me, it's all too real
Sometimes, Kyuhyun doodles.
It's not his first recreational activity of choice, but he's used to technology failing him at the worst times - i.e. when he's bored and actually has free time in between scheduled activities. Someone keeps draining his laptop battery (he's nearly positive it's Donghae, but he's going to need incriminating proof before he accuses his hyung of something so dire) and half the time it's too conspicuous pulling out his laptop anyway. Sketching, on the other hand, is surprisingly easy. So he scribbles on the edges of scripts, across sheets of tissue paper, on the undersides of music scores.
He doesn't really know why he chooses to doodle certain things over others, but he knows they're usually not subjects that people would first pick, nor even notice. He draws the fried chicken wing Ryeowook munches on in the corner, the makkoli passed round and round the dinner table, the comfy armchair Sungmin collapses into after a long day. They’re nothing fancy yet they capture his eye, and that's what matters.
Some of the pictures are attempted realism - re: his Boob Series, sketches of the breasts that have caught his attention over the years - but most of them don't come anywhere close. Then again, drawing realistically was never his intention anyway.
And perhaps that's why doodling works for him. He likes the idea of distortion, likes that when he doodles random stuff there is no need for perfection. No need to judge for errant lines and careless strokes of his pen. The image is up to him to shape completely. He’s finally in control.
It surprises him how stress-relieving drawing can be.
There's something therapeutic in drawing that one fan who camps behind their apartment complex like a mutant bear - not because she looks like one, but because she pisses the hell out of him. Or in sketching Jungsu all sharp angles and fully dominating the space of a whole page, skinniness and meek physical stature blatantly disregarded for the more pressing fact that Jungsu is imposing, overbearing, and sometimes - just sometimes, and he's loathe to admit it - he scares the shit out of Kyuhyun.
So fine, maybe he doodles a little more than the others do, but it doesn't seem like too big a deal. His bandmates have noticed but it’s not like they care. They joke about it, peek over his shoulder as he lazily slides his pen over paper. Most of the time they laugh at his drawings, high-pitched squeals that rattle throughout the room. What the fuck is that supposed to be? Are you sure that's what you meant to draw? is a common reaction, perhaps second only to Kyuhyun, you really suck, don't you? Kyuhyun flashes them glares and his bandmates grin cheekily. And they move on with their lives.
It's not art. It's not even anything worth looking at, really. But it's his.
He can tell that Hyukjae's worried about him when Kyuhyun says yet again that he's going to be staying back even longer. It's in the way his eyes fasten onto Kyuhyun, large and bright; in the way his reedy lips curve significantly downward. Donghae and Sungmin’d stayed back for a little bit as well, but even they had their limits. They flash Kyuhyun concerned glances as they leave. He shakes them off easily. He has months of experience, smiling just enough to be convincing as he tells them he'll be home soon.
Hyukjae scuffs his sneaker against the floor and shuffles behind Kyuhyun as he watches their last performance on his laptop. They stand silently, taking in the moves Kyuhyun hadn't performed as well as he could’ve, the seconds when his rhythm was just a little off, the moments when his voice sounded breathier than usual. Today's filming was particularly bad for Kyuhyun. He looks exhausted, as if he's barely going through the motions. They both can tell, and after the video ends and Kyuhyun presses replay, Hyukjae awkwardly breaks the silence.
“Why do they keep covering you from head to toe?” Hyukjae muses, tilting his head in amusement. “I mean, even Shindong wears less than you. There's something wrong with that picture.”
Kyuhyun snorts, though he doesn't deny it. Sungmin jokes that any day now, they're going to send Kyuhyun out to perform in a turtleneck, or a ski mask, a burqa maybe; and no one will notice a difference.
“To make up for the embarrassing amount of skin you've been revealing lately,” he retorts. Though Hyukjae rolls his eyes, Kyuhyun spots a slight flush.
The video ends. Hyukjae pulls Kyuhyun away from the laptop when he moves to play the performance yet again.
“Just dance,” Hyukjae says.
So they do.
Hyukjae laughs breathlessly as they collapse on the floor, attempting to catch their breath. It's late night or early morning. Kyuhyun isn't sure and frankly, doesn’t care. Time seems frozen in the dusty practice room as they sit side by side, staring at the smudge-stained mirrors that panel the walls. The mirrors distort their reflections just a bit, but it’s enough to give Kyuhyun a sudden domestic itch to clean them. Kyuhyun lets out a wheezing noise at the thought and Hyukjae sluggishly turns to him. He pokes Kyuhyun's side, bony finger pressing awkwardly into the crevice of his ribs. Kyuhyun winces.
“So what are you drawing all the time, anyway?”
Kyuhyun looks at him sharply, surprised at the suddenness of the question but not at the inquiry itself. These days, he's been using one of his school notebooks as a doodle pad, and it's become more and more common for Kyuhyun to whip it out when there's nothing else to do.
He shrugs in response, and Hyukjae narrows his eyes thoughtfully. “Then...can I see?” To Kyuhyun's shock, Hyukjae sounds hesitant, as if he thinks he may be encroaching on something personal and private. But it's not like Kyuhyun has anything to hide. Even if he were, no one can ever tell what he's drawing anyway.
He rolls to his backpack and pulls out the notebook, tossing it to Hyukjae who barely manages to catch it. He then flops down next to Hyukjae again and yawns.
It's not like Hyukjae is the first person to flip through the notebook. Sungmin had done so just the other day, laughing at particularly bizarre drawings. Donghae’d been mesmerized by the Boob Series. Ryeowook and Jongwoon also have had a lot of fun playing guessing games as to what everything was, much like children do on a clear day as they pick out the clouds.
Something about the way Hyukjae looks at his notebook is different.
He sits cross-legged in the middle of the floor, ratty notebook balanced in his lap as he takes in each picture. Hyukjae's eyes are clear as they carefully latch onto each subject. He looks fascinated, and that is new to Kyuhyun. Kyuhyun tries not to stare too hard as Hyukjae flips through each and every page, fingers roving over drawings of seatbelts, jajangmyun, wigs and skintight jeans.
After a while the sound of rustling sheets dies, and Kyuhyun glances up to see Hyukjae fixated on one page, eyes suddenly worn and lips pursed. Kyuhyun grunts as he sits back up, wincing briefly as a dull pain races through his thigh. Maybe he didn't stretch enough today. Or maybe he's just tired. Probably both.
It's a picture he’d drawn months ago on paper napkins, stapled onto one of the notebook sheets so he wouldn't lose it. A row of soju bottles are scattered across the page. They're all empty, balancing precariously on a ledge. Not that the picture itself looks like it. The bottles are colored in angry scratches of a bleeding ballpoint pen. Kyuhyun’d drawn the bottles to fill the whole napkin, to impose on the white space until he could practically imagine it cowering.
He wonders what Hyukjae thinks the bottles could be, and when he asks, Hyukjae's eyes shutter. He bites his lip and Kyuhyun waits patiently. Kyuhyun expects something ridiculous to fall out of Hyukjae's mouth. Like unicorns or penises.
“...Beer?”
Kyuhyun stares and Hyukjae ventures on. “Alcohol? Honestly, I have no idea what these blobs are,” Hyukjae laughs shortly, “but it looks like you drew this at a restaurant or something, and for some reason, that's the picture I have in my head. Maybe it's because I know you drink twenty bottles a night, you freak.” Kyuhyun snorts and Hyukjae shrugs, his voice purposefully light. “But they also look like malformed bananas, so who knows? It could just be a very shitty fruit still life. Though if those are bottles, I have to tell you something: you aren't doing it right.”
Kyuhyun's eyes are still wide with surprise, but he huffs. “It's abstract, jerk.”
Hyukjae snorts, smirk bright on his face as he realizes he’d actually guessed correctly. “Believe me. That's way more than abstract.” He pauses. “It's an interesting drawing, nonetheless. Really.”
He sounds completely sincere, and Kyu fights down the flushed heat that settles on the back of his neck and unfurls against his skin. He doesn’t succeed. “How did you know what it was?” he asks, curiosity practically dripping from each word.
Hyukjae pauses, glancing at Kyuhyun quickly before refocusing on the page in front of him. He smirks again, just slightly, and Kyuhyun just knows he’s going to say something stupid.
“Because I know you more than you know yourself,” Hyukjae says, voice breathy in what Kyuhyun assumes is an attempt at a sultry and seductive sort of tone. He puffs his chest out as he licks his lips exaggeratedly, batting his short lashes rapidly as he places a bony hand on Kyuhyun’s thigh.
Kyuhyun rolls his eyes.Typical. “Try again.”
Something flits through Hyukjae's expression at Kyuhyun's skepticism but before Kyuhyun can try and figure out what, Hyukjae looks at the picture again. He's still for a long time before his voice comes out, and this time it’s tiny and unsure.
“Because something about this picture to me is angry.” A pause, and Hyukjae avoids Kyuhyun's surprised and steady gaze for a while longer. “And I'm just as frustrated about it as you are,” he admits, or even ventures.
Kyuhyun's breath softly catches.
He thinks to when he’d drawn the picture, on a rare night out with his college friends. He’d drunk four bottles of soju all by himself, and then had watched with alarming clarity as his friends made utter fools of themselves with each shot they took. He hadn't done anything that night beyond sit at the bar and stare, and before he knew it, he'd been taken over by an inexplicable (perhaps slightly drunken) rage.
Hyukjae was right: Kyuhyun had been so angry. He still doesn’t fully know why. Angry, perhaps, at how alcohol had ruined Super Junior; angry at how he wasn't even trying to stop his friends from looking like asses; angry that even with all that he still continued to drink copious amounts. Just, angry.
He’d looked at the empty bottles strewn about the bar top then, at the strobe lights which were beginning to make his head spin, at his pale and fluttering fingers. Before he knew it, he was drawing on a paper napkin while his friends remained moaning at his feet.
Kyuhyun stares at Hyukjae, who looks sullen with each second of pregnant silence, or maybe vague and unsure. And then, Hyukjae sighs. He pats Kyuhyun's shoulder, eyes withdrawn but lips drawn together tightly in determination. He's got his hyung-face on now, and he stands, reaching a hand out to pull Kyuhyun up.
“It's getting late,” Hyukjae says. “And we're going to need a lot of rest for tomorrow.”
They go home without another word.
In retrospect, that should’ve been the first sign. But Kyuhyun's never been good with interests and attentions unless they smacked him straight in the face.
“You know, your drawings are actually kind of cool.”
Kyuhyun looks up in surprise, then swears as he almost dies. He turns back to his game quickly, gunning down a couple of errant zergs and making sure the coast is clear. After a moment's hesitation, he presses pause. This is rare, and he's surprised he did so so easily; he hates pausing in the middle of a mission and his bandmates have always known this. Furthermore, Hyukjae lives with him. His apartment mates know better than anyone not to bother Kyuhyun unless something is on fire or otherwise risk defenestration.
He briefly wonders if Hyukjae is high or something equally dumb, because how else could Hyukjae forget such a simple and important fact of life?
Though when he glances up, Hyukjae looks just as shocked that Kyuhyun had paused his game. Kyuhyun arches his brow pointedly and Hyukjae coughs.
“I couldn't see the screen from where I was. I didn't know you were playing, sorry,” Hyukjae says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
Kyuhyun's eyes scream you-are-so-stupid-why-do-I-put-up-with-this as they remain glued to Hyukjae, who hovers in front of him awkwardly. “I was on the computer,” Kyuhyun says levelly. “What else would I be doing?”
“The essay that you've been bitching about since Monday?” Hyukjae tries.
Kyuhyun glares. “You are not funny.”
“Maybe next time,” Hyukjae shrugs. He sits down beside Kyuhyun and leans his elbows on the table. “If I'd known that talking about your drawings would get you this hot and bothered-” Hyukjae cuts off at the discomfited look Kyuhyun immediately flashes him.
Kyuhyun swallows as he wonders, a little surprised and embarrassed at how quickly he’d revealed his discomfort. No one else has ever cared enough to talk about his sketches beyond the casual insult. Hyukjae’s compliment, albeit brief and joking, confuses Kyuhyun utterly. Kyuhyun's wide-eyed stare makes Hyukjae’s expression slide into something vaguely apologetic, and he scratches the back of his neck again, a nervous gesture. “I was wondering if you had some free time-”
“For you?” Kyuhyun interrupts quickly, hoping to regain the ground he’d lost with his earlier slip. “Never.” Hyukjae rolls his eyes, continuing smoothly.
“I was hoping you could help me with some vocal training.” Kyuhyun blinks, while Hyukjae chuckles nervously, raking bony fingers through his hair. “They're considering giving me some more singing parts, which...would be sort of awesome.”
Kyuhyun leans back in his seat, threading his fingers loosely over the tabletop. “And what, rapping isn't good enough for you?”
Hyukjae gives him a steady look. “I wouldn't mind being able to sing an extra line or two in some of our slower songs.”
“Ah,” Kyuhyun says.
Honestly, even before Hyukjae’d explained why he needed help, Kyuhyun knew he would say yes. It's the least Kyuhyun could do to reciprocate after the months of dance lessons Hyukjae’s provided, and they both know it. Though he'll admit that a part of him pretends that Hyukjae’d asked him not only because Kyuhyun owes him a favor, but because he thinks Kyuhyun's the best.
Still, he pretends to be unmoved. “Ah,” he repeats, “I see. So you've resorted to bribing me with compliments?”
Hyukjae looks confused for a second before remembering his greeting, and he chuckles. “See the compliment however you want. I may not be a connoisseur and you're in no way an artist-” Kyuhyun moves to smack him but they're both grinning. “But I still meant it. Some of them are pretty nice. Now can you help me?”
Kyuhyun almost says yes, but then he pauses. He hates admitting that people are better than him, but... “But honestly, Ryeowook would probably be a much better coach than I would.” Hyukjae freezes, beginning to look a little put-down. Kyuhyun hurries to continue. “He's really thorough about these things, and he has good ideas on how to help people improve their skills. I just...I'm generally impatient, and whiny. And if you don't do things correctly I yell and make threatening gestures. You know I would.”
Hyukjae smiles at that, leaning over to grab Kyuhyun's shoulder firmly. “I'll take it,” he says, voice mockingly solemn, eyes warm. “I'm used to your abuse.”
They fall into a routine. Kyuhyun sings and Hyukjae dances, but that's the easy part. This is what they're used to.
The harder part is helping the other do so just as easily. The role-reversal they both desire is hardly an easy one, and they both know it from the get-go. Kyuhyun still isn't used to singing the whole length of a song as well as dancing. His limbs are too long; they hang so uselessly at his sides as he flails them awkwardly in an attempt at dance. But Hyukjae is nevertheless there to guide Kyuhyun's feet when Kyuhyun can't summon the energy. Likewise, Kyuhyun picks Hyukjae's breathing habits and posture apart with a vengeance, and though they both complain (Hyukjae more so than Kyuhyun, surprisingly, but that’s only because Kyuhyun is a vicious son of a bitch when he instructs), they both know they're doing what they can to improve. And that's what matters.
Hyukjae doesn't bring up the drawings again and Kyuhyun doesn't really care, but sometimes he sees the way Hyukjae looks at Kyuhyun. The way Hyukjae looks at his notebook, almost burning holes where drawings would be. And Kyuhyun wonders.
Kyuhyun gets proverbially smacked on the face on a Thursday.
They're sitting in one of the choral rooms on a late night, taking a tea break before hitting the chords again. Hyukjae's looking at the notebook Kyuhyun is doodling in out of the corner of his eye but refusing to ask questions. Kyuhyun asks him what's on his mind.
Hyukjae hums, waving his hand in an uncharacteristically vague manner, and Kyuhyun sighs. “Why do you care so much?” he blurts out. For a second, Hyukjae looks confused, but then Kyuhyun waves his notebook around in response. He flushes a little with how whiny his voice sounds, and levels his gaze at the doorknob behind Hyukjae's head.
“Honestly?” Hyukjae asks, and Kyuhyun barely pauses before he nods slowly. He wants to know. Hyukjae clears his throat, and Kyuhyun finds himself leaning forward.
“Your boobs,” Hyukjae says.
Kyuhyun blinks. He thinks there might be some mistake here. Hyukjae catches Kyuhyun's horrified stare, and he bursts out laughing.
“Not. Not your boobs, unless there's something you're not telling me. I mean your Boob Series's boobs. You say they're the most realistically drawn, but...Kyuhyun, they look like balloons. Really oddly shaped balloons, and there is no way Taeyeon's boobs are bigger than Sooyoung's. It's impossible. You should stop kidding yourself now.” Kyuhyun glares at the insult to his finest masterpiece, and Hyukjae plods on awkwardly., flush on the tip of his ears. “Um, so yeah, what I'm trying to say is that even when you try to draw realistically, you end up drawing what you really think, or feel, or...whatever.”
Kyuhyun still looks confused, and Hyukjae eyes the way Kyuhyun grips his tea a little tighter. “You already know that I suck,” Kyuhyun grumbles.
Hyukjae shakes his head adamantly. “It's not that.” He pauses. “Well,” he smirks, “it's not just that.” Kyuhyun shoves at him and Hyukjae laughs, high-pitched and uncontrolled. It takes moments for Hyukjae to calm down and look Kyuhyun in the eye again, serious once more.
“Don’t laugh,” Hyukjae warns, and Kyuhyun raises his hands peaceably.
“Your sketches...they draw on something. I mean, yeah, they're insane and dumb-looking, but...” he pauses, eyes darting every which way as he fiddles with his fingers, flush brighter and brighter on pale skin. “...I think they reveal more of your emotions than anything else, even if you aren't sure what exactly. It's like-”
Hyukjae breaks off and glances down, looking suddenly frustrated. His fist tightens in his lap, forcibly twisting fingers into his jeans. “You joke around all the time, and are sarcastic and bitchy and you but...I get the impression you still have your guard up even against us, even after all this time. As if...you're worried about showing us how you really feel about things. Lately, you've been getting better but...I guess I just want to understand why. I want-” And he freezes.
Kyuhyun exhales shakily, breaking the sudden silence. Hyukjae tenses even further at the noise, still refusing to look in Kyuhyun's vicinity. He would've never guessed that Hyukjae had paid that much attention to Kyuhyun's stupid doodles for...an actual reason. He'd assumed it was going to be something silly. He’d imagine Hyukjae saying something slightly mocking and stupid that they could laugh over, and then they’d both move on and pretend it never happened.
This, though. This is something different, and scary, and Kyuhyun’s mind races. The implications of what Hyukjae could possibly by saying makes Kyuhyun’s throat tighten and his eyes wide. Hyukjae cares, and he wants to understand Kyuhyun's feelings, and it’s just so...unexpected.
After all, they’re not supposed to be talking about these things. They’re men, they’re friends, and there are just some conversations men aren’t supposed to have. Kyuhyun knows this, and Hyukjae knows this. Which is why there are alarm sirens blaring in Kyuhyun’s overloaded mind at this point. Kyuhyun would be stupid to interpret Hyukjae’s admission otherwise. There is the possibility that Kyuhyun is way off, but he brushes that thought aside quickly. He usually isn't - he prides himself on this sort of thing. And it is for this reason that Kyuhyun's mouth dries as he stares, stares, stares at Hyukjae.
There's something else that's going on here, Kyuhyun realizes, and it has the potential to fuck them over for good.
“Are you,” Kyuhyun stammers, flushing because fuck, he's always been a little more direct than a dongsaeng should be. He hesitates briefly, wondering if he could brush this under the rug and they could just pretend it never happened. But Hyukjae still isn’t looking at him, and maybe Kyuhyun’s a little vindictive, or maybe he’s just a dick, but in a flash he decides to go straight for the jugular. “Is there something else you're trying to tell me here?”
Hyukjae's eyes widen as they dart to Kyuhyun’s face, but he doesn't look too surprised. His eyes are dark and full as they practically dare Kyuhyun to tear his own away; Kyuhyun finds that he can't. “Do you think it's worth the effort?” Hyukjae asks. He’s on the brink of sweating now, looking more uncomfortable and worried than Kyuhyun's seen him in a while. He swears Hyukjae's voice lowers just a bit, a smidgen of gravel in his tone, and it makes Kyuhyun nervous.
“I don't know,” is what finally falls from Kyuhyun's mouth and his eyes widen, nearly as large as Hyukjae's already are. He wants to take the words back somehow, but Kyuhyun knows he can't. It's true, Kyuhyun doesn't know. He's never thought about it before.
Hyukjae leans forward in his chair, so close, scrutinizing Kyuhyun carefully before he straightens. He firms his shoulders and looks Kyuhyun straight in the eye, and Kyuhyun’s lips purse at the determined gleam in Hyukjae's expression.
He clears his throat violently then, grasping for some semblance of normality. “Let's get back to the chords,” he says gruffly, and Hyukjae sits back slowly. His eyes are half-shuttered but he doesn't look completely upset. He lets Kyuhyun change the topic with a small nod.
Kyuhyun feels a little stupid for not noticing earlier.
Or maybe he feels a little stupid for suddenly noticing altogether too much.
Because Hyukjae looks at him differently, and Kyuhyun looks at him differently, and suddenly everything between them has changed. It’s not like they talk about it. Kyuhyun doesn't think either of them dare to and he's grateful for that. On the other hand, they don’t stop talking to each other either. They continue to joke around, to help each other, and somehow - perhaps through Hyukjae’s sheer will alone - their conversations manage to remain light and avoid the main issue at hand. Kyuhyun thinks it’s because of this that he lets Hyukjae get a little closer.
Though it could also be because Hyukjae is almost captivating.
Almost, because it's not like Hyukjae acts any differently than usual. He's still dorky, and ridiculous, and cheerfully unaware. His laughter is bright and smile kind, all gums and wholesome intentions. He still squeezes his eyes shut right before gobbling everything down, and he still flicks food bits at Kyuhyun’s face and steals things when he thinks he isn't looking. He still dances like the world is going to end at any moment, still lifts Kyuhyun up from the ground to try again. He is still, unfailingly, him.
But then Hyukjae steals a glance at Kyuhyun when he's lying on the ground, panting and weary, and Kyuhyun is lost. He doesn’t get how Hyukjae can look so happy and so ridiculous all at the same time. How Hyukjae can look at him like that with unabashed shame, like he cares, cares so damn much. Not only about the group, which would be the usual first assumption. But maybe, just maybe, a little more for him.
These days, Hyukjae touches Kyuhyun with purpose, intimate in ways Kyuhyun should be used to after years of fanservice. But it feels like there’s intent, somehow. Hyukjae wraps an arm around his waist, and tucks his chin loosely into Kyuhyun's shoulder, and rests a hand reassuringly on his forearm. Always simple and innocent, fleeting and brief. But all Kyuhyun can think, embarrassingly, is an endless streamer of soclose’s. And that Hyukjae smells like pine nuts and kimchi.
It's all this that makes him realize, on an evening like any other when Hyukjae hands him a bottle of water and says firmly that things will be okay: he isn't in love with Hyukjae or anything, but he has to admit that the feeling Hyukjae stirs in him isn't completely vomit-inducing.
One day before they head to the gym, Hyukjae pulls Kyuhyun aside from the hustle and bustle of the crowded dressing room.
“Want to grab something to eat?” Kyuhyun stares at him. He's the one who usually has to make his hyungs treat him with barbed compliments and pouts. Hyukjae usually has always agreed, albeit grudgingly, but rarely has he initiated. Hyukjae waves a vague hand, though his gaze is carefully glued to the cell phone in Kyuhyun's hands. He’s smiling so carefully, insecurity stark in his eyes. He looks like he’s anticipating rejection. And it’s this that makes Kyuhyun relax. “We need some carbs, all the extra energy we can get.”
Still, Kyuhyun appraises him silently. Is this a date? Is this going to be a big deal? He then shakes his head mentally, rebuking himself for reading too much into this. Hyukjae probably just wants some ramyeon and someone to eat it with. Even so, Hyukjae isn't one to treat often, and Kyuhyun remembers that he only has about five thousand won in his wallet at the moment. He glances around the room for Donghae, wondering if he can squirrel Donghae into coming. At least then Kyuhyun knows he'll be taken care of.
Hyukjae seems to read Kyuhyun's thought process, and with a small laugh, slaps Kyuhyun on the back. “Okay fine, I'll treat, okay? Be honored at your special privilege and say 'thank you, Hyung'.”
Immediately, Kyuhyun beams.
“Thank you, Hyung,” he says cheekily, forcing his tone to sound completely insincere, though his smile is wide and smug on his face. Hyukjae rolls his eyes.
“The things I do for you,” Hyukjae says.
Kyuhyun pauses, realizing just how true that is. He also realizes, with a flash of embarrassment, that he's never really thanked Hyukjae before. Not even for helping him dance, let alone for taking care of him as his hyung. He thinks perhaps he was always a little too proud, a little too embarrassed to.
So Kyuhyun smiles, softer, and he makes sure Hyukjae sees that he means it. “Thank you,” he says again. Hyukjae starts slightly in surprise. Under the bright fluorescent light, Kyuhyun thinks he imagines the flush that creeps underneath Hyukjae's sharp cheekbones.
After dinner, Hyukjae hands him a bag and Kyuhyun is hesitant to take it. But Hyukjae is insistent. So with a mumbled thanks, Kyuhyun peers into the bag.
It's a book of some sort, still wrapped in clear plastic, and when Kyuhyun pulls it out, he stares at Hyukjae.
“It's a sketchbook,” Hyukjae says, though Kyuhyun can see that already.
“Oh,” Kyuhyun says dumbly. Eloquence: he has it, really.
“It's thanks for all the help you've given me,” Hyukjae continues. “I finally got to meet with the voice instructors this morning. Apparently, I've improved. I can't recall why,” he teases. He doesn’t even try to hide his shy but brilliant smile.
“First with the compliments, now with the gifts,” Kyuhyun muses, and watches in amused concern as Hyukjae nearly chokes, “whatever will you do next?”
It's the first time Kyuhyun's really brought up the something that's been going on between them, and the occasion isn’t lost on either of them. Hyukjae takes his time chewing before he looks at Kyuhyun.
“I don't know,” Hyukjae says, and Kyuhyun is swiftly reminded of when Kyuhyun had said those exact words, and the doors had opened. “What do guys normally do when they pursue other guys?”
Kyuhyun stares, so shocked at Hyukjae's honesty that he can't help but reciprocate. “Well, I don't hate it.” Hyukjae looks at him and Kyuhyun flushes, spearing a muscle with one of his chopsticks to distract himself. And really, pursue? What era is this, exactly? Still, Kyuhyun finds himself...pleased. Touched, perhaps. “Whatever you're doing...I don't,” Kyuhyun admits softly.
Hyukjae beams then, and he steals a piece of squid from Kyuhyun's bowl.
Kyuhyun first uses the sketchbook later that night. He's just finished up a mission in his Starcraft game and he sits back with a content sigh. As he shuts down his computer, he finally takes in his surroundings and smiles when he sees his apartment mates huddled around the kitchen table. They're betting on football matches and talking loudly about hot girls. Ryeowook waves his spatula around emphatically and nearly knocks Sungmin out in the process, causing Hyukjae and Jongwoon to snicker with glee.
There's a moment when Hyukjae looks up and sees Kyuhyun observing the group. He immediately smiles and Kyuhyun's eyes are filled with the brilliance of it. Kyuhyun nods then, shortly, and they both look down. One to the magazine in front of him and the other to his untouched sketchbook.
Kyuhyun thinks it may be fitting that his first drawing in that new sketchbook is of Hyukjae.
It isn't his last either. Hyukjae isn't the best looking guy in the world but it's okay because Kyuhyun isn't the best doodler. Despite these facts, Kyuhyun begins to fill more and more pages with flashes of Hyukjae. He still doodles whatever catches his fancy, like the turtles who sit stupidly on Jongwoon's stomach when he's playing with them, or Ryeowook when he dares to walk around makeup-less. But the last few pages are riddled with the shape of Hyukjae's thin ear, the lopsided smile that is more gum than lip, the tone of a lean muscle that clenches with each push up.
So he's almost surprised when Hyukjae asks, quite hesitantly one day, “Have you ever drawn me before?”
They're in the living room on the couches, lounging during a drama's commercial break. They're both drunk with a mix of soju, exhaustion and hunger. A pack of puffed corn sits between them so that they could both go through it like ravenous wolves; Hyukjae holds it up loosely so its contents won’t spill over. Kyuhyun stares, his hand hovering in the bag and sticky with the corn's residue.
You have no idea is what Kyuhyun wants to say, but he doesn't.
He has no idea how to tell Hyukjae that a decent amount of his recent sketches feature Hyukjae in some embarrassing way, fragments of Hyukjae so carefully tucked away in odd and scratchy doodles.
So instead, he smirks.
“Well this is forward of you,” Kyuhyun attempts to drawl. “My chastity may not be able to bear it.”
Hyukjae grins, seemingly unfazed. “Well, I’ve decided to try it out,” he says, “this 'being forward' thing.”
“I see,” Kyuhyun says, and though he's not quite sure why, he shuffles over to his backpack. Something in the back of his mind warns him that this has the potential to be really humiliating but he dutifully ignores it, handing over his sketchbook with only a slight quiver in his hand.
Hyukjae takes it carefully into his own, as if it's something precious.
As Hyukjae begins to peruse it slowly, Kyuhyun cocks his head. His next words are spoken on a whim, but he'll admit he's curious. “Which one do you think is yours?”
Hyukjae snorts in amusement. “What, you mean I'm only worth one drawing?” Still, he doesn't seem offended, and he looks even closer at each and every picture.
The drama starts again. The lead female is in tears and the supporting actor stoic in his support. Typical really, and not exactly Kyuhyun's cup of tea. But he forces himself to watch, only peeking glances at Hyukjae once in a while. Hyukjae is silent mostly, concentrating, barely noticing the violin soundtrack heavy in the speakers and the way Kyuhyun can't stop fidgeting.
To distract himself, he gulps down the rest of his soju and grabs a third bottle from the cabinet. He plays mind games with himself, taking a drink every time he so much as wants to look at Hyukjae's reactions, and finally, finally he begins to feel it weigh his limbs down and make him contentedly sleepy. Another character is beginning to wail out her feelings, and with a disgusted snort - feelings, ugh - he lets his eyes slowly fall shut.
He wakes up to the gentle shaking of his shoulder and blinks back the exhaustion that weighs on his eyelids. His glasses are askew but he swears he sees a fond sort of look in Hyukjae's eyes, veiled by a more obvious nervousness. Kyuhyun wakes up a little more then, and he spots his sketchbook in Hyukjae's other hand.
“Did you find it?” Kyuhyun asks groggily, rubbing his fingers furiously beneath metal frames.
Hyukjae simply hands the book back, almost shakily, and Kyuhyun flips through the sheets with a thinly veiled eagerness. Eventually, he lands on the page where Hyukjae has inserted a small slip of paper.
He's shocked at how disappointed he is.
Kyuhyun stares, and after a second, he tries to force words out of his mouth; to say something witty, caustic, anything. But instead, he can't tear his eyes away from a rather mundane sort of sketch that has absolutely nothing to do with Hyukjae at all.
He doesn’t know why, but he’d been so sure, so confident that Hyukjae would be able to pick out at least one of his drawings of him correctly. He'd always figured them out before, had always been able to tell. And there's the, the thing they're supposed to have. Hyukjae would've seen it when no one else could...right? Or perhaps Kyuhyun had been expecting too much.
It stings, somehow, in a way Kyuhyun had never expected it to. Burns, even; if he’s willing to be honest with himself.
Hyukjae looks like he’s about to laugh, but then he sees the shock slapped onto Kyuhyun's features and his expression shifts nervously.
“Kyuhyun,” Hyukjae starts, and that's when Kyuhyun remembers, with startling clarity, who he is supposed to be. He is Cho Kyuhyun, and he does not do these embarrassing displays of his feelings. How could he let himself forget? How could he let himself fall so far, and so pathetically at that? He steels his will and refuses to look Hyukjae in the eye.
“This is a rug,” Kyuhyun says slowly, and winces inwardly at how forced, how controlled each word sounds. He barely even remembers drawing it weeks ago. Kyuhyun thinks he may’ve only done so because he thought the pattern was pretty. He breathes through his nose and attempts nonchalance. “Though I can see the resemblance.” Or maybe not. He's rambling now - someone shut me up god damn it shut me up - “I mean, you get walked on all the time.”
Hyukjae sucks in a sharp breath, and Kyuhyun thinks weakly that he probably looks just as stricken as Hyukjae.
“And who did all the walking?” Hyukjae asks bitingly, face an ugly mix of regret and something else. Hurt, maybe? Hyukjae looks so upset in that moment, so unsure, that it’s almost enough to make Kyuhyun pause. Still, for a split second Kyuhyun feels vaguely triumphant. Immediately after which, he feels terrible that he's feeling victorious over something so stupid. “Kyuhyun-”
At that point, Kyuhyun doesn’t bother to stay. He blames immaturity, soju, anything; but he refuses to blame himself. How can it be his fault when Hyukjae’s the one who started this?
There's a roar in Kyuhyun's ears as he leaves.
It doesn't last for long. Later that night, though it's really early morning, he raps on Hyukjae's door. Nothing happens at first, and he tries again, waiting awkwardly for the shuffling behind wood to end. Hyukjae slowly opens the door.
This wasn't Kyuhyun's plan, originally. The initial plan was to be miserable and stay miserable, to wallow in his self-pity as he vowed to curse Hyukjae's ignorance to the pits of hell. But then the guilt took over, as well as the fourth bottle of soju, and here he was. Or something like that. Mostly, he can’t sleep, and for once he knows the exact reason why.
It may also be because Kyuhyun likes Hyukjae, at least a little, which is probably the reason why he feels about ready to punch a wall in frustration.
Hyukjae straightens uncomfortably the moment he sees who's at the door, but he doesn’t look surprised. He croaks out a hello, tiredly rubs his eyes. He glances down and blanches at his bare chest, avoiding Kyuhyun's gaze as he hurries to slip into a wifebeater.
Finally, Hyukjae is clothed and standing in front of him again, gazing at Kyuhyun with practiced calm. Kyuhyun swallows, and for a minute he stalls for time by rocking back and forth on his heels. Finally he winces at his pathetic nature. He pinches himself for focus, forcing his pride down with an angry fuck you.
“I'm sorry for what I said,” he says. He blinks. “...hyung,” he adds belatedly, but no less sincerely. Hopes Hyukjae can see it.
Hyukjae is silent, crossing his arms slowly as he leans against the door frame.
“You know,” he observes. “I don't think I've ever seen you so irrational before.” He lets himself look a little smug at the thought, but Kyuhyun can tell he's mostly exhausted. He probably’d gotten just as little sleep as Kyuhyun had earlier that night.
Kyuhyun nods slowly. “I don't like being irrational,” Kyuhyun admits, and Hyukjae snorts softly. “I get stupid about these things. You know. Feelings. Emotions make me irrational. I like being rational.” He’s beginning to ramble again, and Kyuhyun pinches himself a second time. Hyukjae looks vaguely amused at the action but Kyuhyun can’t even stir the energy to glare. “I'm sorry,” he repeats.
Hyukjae shakes his head tiredly, though Kyuhyun notes with relief that he looks just a little less upset with Kyuhyun. “You drank some more tonight, didn't you?” Kyuhyun stiffens, deflating a bit before he says yes. Hyukjae hums. “Needed some liquid courage, huh?” The question is followed by a nervous chuckle.
“Yes,” he says honestly, hoping Hyukjae hears the apology even in that word alone. He thinks Hyukjae does.
And then there's a pause, still tense but thankfully less so, as the two of them train their eyes on each other. Hyukjae looks nervous again. It's not a good look on Hyukjae, Kyuhyun notes idly. He exhales loudly to break the silence.
“It's fine that you thought you were a rug,” Kyuhyun says. Hyukjae immediately stiffens and Kyuhyun curses the way he says things, so careless and unforgiving. He makes sure to tread very carefully. “My drawing is shit. I don't think anyone would have gotten it.”
Hyukjae’s still stiff, but his lip quirks minutely. His mouth barely curve upwards, for a beat at most, but Kyuhyun sees it.
“You should flip through the book one more time,” Hyukjae says slowly, carefully. “You never know what you may find.”
Kyuhyun pauses. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was there. Wait. What. “What did you do?” Kyuhyun asks, voice even and deathly quiet. His voice is more acerbic than trusting, bordering on terrified. He's almost gratified to see Hyukjae wince at the tone.
Hyukjae grabs the sketchbook from his dresser and hands it to Kyuhyun shakily. “Something I realize wasn't as funny as I thought it would be.”
Kyuhyun barely takes it into his hands. It feels like a leaden weight and for a brief moment, Kyuhyun hates it. Moments later, he still can't summon the courage to flip through it. He's afraid of what he'll find, of the mistake he may’ve made, and Hyukjae can sense it. So Hyukjae swallows, placing his hands over Kyuhyun’s. Kyuhyun lets Hyukjae slowly guide them to another page, skipping over the rug sketch quickly to the page right after.
Now this, this is a picture of Hyukjae.
At first, all Kyuhyun feels is an immense sense of relief along with a pent-up and frustrated joy that Hyukjae had in fact found one correctly. But then he looks again, and he thinks he can see why Hyukjae had picked this particular page over all the others. It's a drawing of Hyukjae in the middle of a dance move, the curve in his back elongated but smooth. His limbs are long and awkward, but strong as it commands the white space around it. Like most of Kyuhyun’s drawings, it doesn't look much like the subject. But it's sensual, dangerous, and exactly how he saw Hyukjae in his mind as he'd danced.
In the corner, Hyukjae's writing curves as the letters shakily spell out a simple question: “Do you really see me like this?”
They both stare at the page for a long time.
Finally, Kyuhyun swallows. “You vandalized it,” he murmurs. He looks up to Hyukjae fumbling with the drawstrings of his sweats. Regret is stark and clear on Hyukjae's face.
“It was going to be a joke,” he says. “I was going to surprise you by flipping to the next page. I didn’t expect you to...freak out like that.” Kyuhyun begins to glare and Hyukjae continues hurriedly. “But I shouldn't have anyway.” He exhales and looks Kyuhyun straight in the eye, expression honest and open. “This isn't a joke.”
Kyuhyun can only nod numbly, and he begins to mumble. Ramble. Again. “Right. I may like you. I'm not sure yet. Is that okay?”
Hyukjae's eyes widen and Kyuhyun forces himself to shut up. He almost wishes he were drunk and could blame the alcohol somehow, but he's always been a little too honest at the worst of times. He’s about to mentally kick himself when Hyukjae looks at him carefully, barely concealing a smile.
“Sure, if that's okay with you,” he says finally. “I've been told I'm a lousy lover.” It's said in jest, and though Hyukjae’s eyes are twinkling, what Kyuhyun thinks Hyukjae is really doing is giving him an out.
Which is nice of Hyukjae, and so very typical of him, but Kyuhyun thinks they're both in a little too far deep for that.
“Does it really matter how I see you?” he asks instead.
Hyukjae's responding expression is almost comical, as if the question is completely preposterous. Kyuhyun realizes belatedly that it probably is. “Of course it does.”
Kyuhyun tries again. “Did you want me to see you like this?” he clarifies, waving at the picture.
At that, Hyukjae freezes. He nods infinitesimally, but it's enough for the both of them.
A pause. Kyuhyun is still, eyes darting every which way in the small space of Hyukjae's room. It's neat, organized, the same as it's always been. Manga lines the shelves and there are shoe boxes everywhere. The only light on is a desk lamp, and Hyukjae's room actually doesn't smell that bad. Though that may be because there are air fresheners plugged in at every corner. The room is awash in an odd mix of lavender, cotton-fresh clean and cedar wood.
And then Kyuhyun's gut wrenches. How on earth is he focusing on all the stupid details and none of the important ones? He turns bodily, looking steadily at Hyukjae.
Finally, Hyukjae rolls his eyes. “It looks like I'm going to have to be the hyung in this relationship, yet again,” he says, and Kyuhyun raises a brow. Hyukjae swallows, stepping forward until Kyuhyun has to gaze down to see him. He sighs dramatically, shakily, but Hyukjae’s smile is warm as he tilts his face upward, flushing just a little. “Or I may just be crazy.”
We're both so crazy, is on the tip of Kyuhyun's tongue. But then Hyukjae leans forward, and his lips press gently, so carefully against Kyuhyun's bottom lip, catching on the ridge and his chin. It's a clumsy kiss, awkward, but Kyuhyun's mind is blank and his heart threatens to break down on him with every movement Hyukjae makes. Hyukjae shifts below him and Kyuhyun's mouth grazes against his cheek.
“Hyung,” he says.
Hyukjae's eyes darken minutely but even in the dim lighting Kyuhyun catches it. He presses against Kyuhun a little more insistently, and Kyuhyun folds. Kyuhyun's fingers lock themselves in the folds of Hyukjae's top, and Hyukjae has an arm wrapped solidly around Kyuhyun’s torso, and they kiss.
And they kiss.
When Kyuhyun wakes up, it's to Hyukjae. Hyukjae is snoring, mouth agape, and it's so unattractive that Kyuhyun nearly lets out a laugh. Kyuhyun shifts carefully, crawling out of the bed - which really isn't made for two grown men - and grabs his sketchbook and a pen from Hyukjae's desk. He rubs sweaty palms on his sweatpants as he sits on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over his knee.
He sketches.
He draws the lashes of Hyukjae's crusted-over eye, the drool that just begins to collect at the corner of his mouth, the tousled hair that sticks out every which way. It's all so close to him now, every detail, and Kyuhyun soaks it all in.
Kyuhyun thinks Hyukjae will never be the most beautiful person, or most handsome, or even most charming. And neither will he.
But what they do have is this: Hyukjae can look at him and know him and want to know him. And Kyuhyun isn’t afraid of the fact. Maybe that’s enough.
Maybe it’s enough for Kyuhyun to give them a chance.
Hyukjae wakes up moments after Kyuhyun has gotten back in bed, this time as he shades in the heavy bags under Hyukjae's eyes. Hyukjae's hand rests in the smooth space where Kyuhyun's t-shirt had ridden up, and he uses the hand as leverage to peer at what Kyuhyun is drawing.
He snorts once he gets it, and he tugs at Kyuhyun’s tee with an exaggerated whine.
“Is this how you really see me?” His voice drips offense but the quirk of his lip and the laughter in his eyes gives him away.
Kyuhyun simply smiles, pressing a small kiss in response firmly on Hyukjae's upper lip.
“Yes,” he says.
AN: I wrote this a while ago while I was in a self-indulgent sort of mood, but I hope it was okay anyway. And yes, I know it’s been a while T____T.
(Also, I still believe the plural form of penis should be peni :/ But I shall conform to the standard pluralized form of penises. If I must. Sighs.)
::waves::