ain't no sunshine when she's gone

[sungmin/???] what's in a butt

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 07:09:16 GMT

Title: What's In A Butt?
Rating: er...PG?
Summary: In which Sungmin is molested by strange men and he is Not Amused.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.
Notes: what is this i don't even [part 2].

Sungmin is twenty six and wears a plaid tie to work everyday, together with a stiff shirt your grandfather would never wear and pants tighter than the proverbial duck’s ass. He's also Very Busy, being an executive and all - "and at such a young age!" exclaims his mother any chance she gets - in one of the top multinational companies --- why, there's even the characteristic sore attitude of A Busy Man that he proudly wears as a badge.

Today is one of those days where he shoves his way through the crowd of harried businessmen waiting to get into the lift and pushes inside without so much as an apology, because he's late for work and if that isn't a good excuse for being a jerk. He manages to wade through and stand right in the middle of the packed lift, with greasy smelling bodies pressing against him from all sides, and he pats himself for spraying on all the cologne that he eventually did at the risk of being so late.

The lift doors close as he ponders over the excuse he'll be giving.

At much the same moment, there's a slight, unmistakable pressure on his bottom.

He starts, his eyes widening, and he looks around quickly at the faces bundled in the elevator. There's a young lady to his side - and oh, he thinks a little gratefully, wrong bottom eh?

The very next moment, his bottom is squeezed once more.

Apparently not. He hides the flush threatening to overshadow his face, his scandalized eyes traveling all around. There are two old men standing in the corner, way too far to reach him. The lady is now adjusting her specs as she reads her papers. The slightly overweight guy pressing on his left coughs, cupping a hand too late, and Sungmin winces. A few businessmen to his far left are chatting loudly about the merits of some deal. He also hears faint snatches of the light banter between the two men behind him, and some obnoxious sounding guy who talks unnecessarily loud into what he presumes to be a cellphone.

It's an obviously wrong conclusion to come to - but none of the suspects seem dangerous, he admits to himself with some confusion.

Feeling a little deflated, he fixes his tie self-consciously and stares ahead at the changing numbers on the screen: 1, 2...

He fights the urge to slam his head against the wall. There's the hand again - it's definitely a hand, he can tell - fondling him - definitely him, three times is too much a coincidence - and he bristles, taking deep calming breaths while some mysterious person is sexually assaulting him in an elevator. And what if someone can see? He takes another deep breath, thinks about the presentation he'll be working on, and tries not to melt into a pool of mortification.

The breathing doesn't work.

It's an in-the-moment kind of move - his pressing the button for the fifth floor - and like most other in-the-moment moves, he regrets it only a moment later. The slightly intimidating number of 26, the floor on which his office is located, flashes before his eyes, and he considers undoing his last action - even sexual harassment isn't worth this.

Too bad for him though, the deed's been done. The doors open and he stumbles out, and before he can even turn they shut behind him with the accompanying tell-tale sound of the lift lurching up ahead.

"Good-bye to you too," he grumbles at the doors, and pats his own ass lightly to remove any traces of the foreign feel. Then he whips toward the staircase, fighting the gloomy urge to take a glance at his watch.

Some ten minutes later, he's on floor ten and wheezing slightly, clutching at the rails as he takes one more step. His cellphone rings endlessly, and he directs a frustrated "fuck you" at it while his legs threaten to bail out on him. All those days of gym and football and working the weights seem meaningless if he can't even fucking reach the eleventh floor.

He hears the distinct sound of the elevator open at that very moment, and with all the energy that's left he heaves another few steps before reaching the top step. With strength akin to that of a mother holding up a car to pull her baby out, he makes a dash for it and reaches the elevator just before it closes.

He flops down on the floor, ignoring the strange looks of the thankfully low population inside - even your image isn't worth the sweet, sweet victory of making the elevator on time for office - that you're late for anyway.

The moment finishes and he straightens up immediately, without so much as a glance at the rest of the new batch of people in the elevator. Instead, he glances idly at his shoes, wondering about the strange butt-squeezer who ruined his chances of a normal work day, and what is wrong with people these days? Public decency, is that a difficult thing to ask for-

"Fuck-" he says out loud. Ten pairs of eyes turn to stare at him, and he manages a wavering sheepish smile in apology, enough to at least make them return to their mundane thoughts. He bites his lip, trying to stay still, and his hands curl into fists.

Well if he hadn't missed the hand on his butt.

The elevator opens on the 16th floor, and a rush of people come in along with the many that go out. It's jam-packed with people now, sweaty bodies of people going to and fro from work milling inside the elevator - not that it deters the molester in the slightest.

It's back to breathing in and out for Sungmin, who finds it really hard to reel in his disgust while a hand presses the left cheek. To his very horror, he almost lets out a moan, and the next thing he's cringing inwardly and hoping this day ends soon.

Twentieth floor, and the door opens with the hand - he can put it no better - ravishing his butt. Sungmin feels like slipping to the back of the elevator and dying there, or, better yet -

Twenty-fifth floor. He's on it. The people mill out and the elevator is now half-empty, which has for the moment stopped his molester from further ministrations.

But oh, he's on it.

Twenty-seventh floor, and he's missed his floor. His boss is probably ranting right now about "what a slacker this Sungmin is," and were he to go there he'd be fried. Fried, he is going to be - but not before he deals with this.

Thirtieth floor, and most of the people in the elevator move out. He starts moving too along with the crowd, and he's one of the last ones to leave, and -

The hand. It comes suddenly and unexpectedly, but Sungmin has the fast reflexes of a high-school track champion. It's the lightest of touches on his butt, but without a warning he seizes the hand and whips around to face the man who's made his morning miserable.

The wide eyes of a middle-aged overweight man meet him, and Sungmin feels only the slightest regret in punching the guy full in the face in front of all the people getting in or out of the elevator.

"That," he says unhappily, "was for fucking up my morning."

And without another word, Sungmin, one of the topmost executives of one of the most successful companies in Korea stalks away with his crisp suit and tight pants, even as all the eyes on the floor turn to look at him.

One pair of eyes have a particular twinkle to them. The man with those deep brown eyes smirks a little, then gets back into the elevator he just came out from.

"This is because I'm overweight, isn't it?!" cries the innocent man, still wincing from the punch.

---

i'm going to look at this tomorrow and wonder why i even write down half of all my ideas.

a belated happy fourth anniversary to these kids! :D

[almost Donghae/Eunhyuk] Clearly Not The Day After Tomorrow

Thu, 05 Nov 2009 14:45:38 GMT

Title: Clearly Not The Day After Tomorrow
Rating: G
Summary: Apocalypse and ghosts don't always mesh well.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.
Notes: what is this i don't even.

The only reason he's washing the dishes in the kitchen is because everyone else has ditched him. Also because he's "way too nice" - or so he mumbles as he lets the warm water run over the dishes and his icy hands. The faint sound of laughter can be heard over the background, and he idly wonders if Donghae's seeing one of those ridiculous sitcoms once again, when there's a loud bang.

Strange, he thinks, and closes the tap before shuffling to the living room where Donghae is chewing his bottom lip nervously, the remote gripped tightly in one hand, the actor on screen moving her lips soundlessly. "Did you hear that?" he asks, and Hyukjae nods, frowning.

"What was that?" he asks back, but Donghae shrugs, and at the same moment the door flies open with a loud noise.

The items begin falling off the shelves, one by one; fine china breaking into tiny pieces that would have Leeteuk and all their mothers flying in a rage, and maybe that would have made for truly hilarious entertainment some other time, but right now it's anything but funny. Hyukjae starts at the first crash, taking a few steps ahead in surprise, but the surprise soon turns into horror as the crashes continue - without any reason whatsoever. He backs away and stumbles onto the couch, falling on Donghae, who instantly finds his hand and grips it tightly.

"What did you do Hyuk?!" he all but screams, his nails digging into Hyukjae's skin, but Hyukjae is too busy shaking in fear to whine at Donghae for such false accusations.

The words, however, seemed to have had their effect - the noise stops, the china stops breaking, and a glass teeters on the edge dangerously before crashing to the ground, signalling the end of the chaos and the reign of an edgy silence.

"What." starts Hyukjae finally, "Was. That."

"I'll be having trouble sleeping tonight," mumbles Donghae, getting up quickly to lock the door. He moves to the window next and is about to shut it when he pauses. "Hyukjae," he starts again, his voice wavering, "isn't two pm too early for the streets to be empty?"

Hyukjae, however, doesn't hear him. He's staring at his cellphone and his face is pale. "Donghae..." he says a few minutes later, "my cellphone."

He doesn't say anything next, choosing instead to press his keypad once. A strange noise breaks out from the cellphone - sheets rustling, the faint sound of wind blowing through ---

And then a blood-curdling scream.

Donghae jumps, his eyes widening in horror as the last of the screams pierce through him, almost bruising.

"The message was sent on October 3rd, 6 PM." continues Hyukjae, as if there had never been any interruption, and his voice is way too calm. Donghae's eyes flicker immediately to the calendar, confirming his confusions, and he frowns -

It's only the second of October today.

---

am writing (or trying to) write post!apocalypse au atm except it's not working and this absolute-ridicness is what comes out instead. CLEARLY I WATCH TOO MANY MOVIES :| :| :| this is such a mess idek.

[kyuhyun-centric] the centre of attention

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 05:03:15 GMT

Title: The Centre of Attention
Rating: G
Summary: Kyuhyun's always lived life his way.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.
Notes: a short character piece that somehow evolved into this monster IDK.

He's seventeen; taller than his parents; has veiny hands, the pale skin stretched taut along his bony fingers; and a smile that eternally plays on his lips, seldom unaccompanied by a twinkle in those deep brown eyes. He’s seventeen and he realizes too late that he's fallen in love.

It happens one day, when he's sitting in his room with his back resting against the wall, thumbs pressing furiously at the buttons as the car swerves to avoid the old lady standing right in the middle of the road. The danger passes quickly, and he sighs, relaxing back as the car now starts cruising over the mountainous terrain.

At that very moment, a series of perfectly aimed spit balls hit him squarely in the chest. Frowning, he presses the pause button and raises his eyes above the gameboy to meet his best friend's gaze.

The other sighs in relief at finally having garnered his friend's attention, his face pale - is he sick? wonders the boy -, his lips parted open in a soundless whisper. The annoying music of the game plays through the still silence.

Then, finally, he says it. "I’m in love, Kyuhyun,"

Kyuhyun’s wavering attention snaps back to the other boy as the words melt away into the thin air.

"I’m in love," says the other boy again, his tone more defiant this time, as if challenging him to judge his words - but Kyuhyun only stares at him for what seem like hours.

It’s then that he really notices the creases of that awkward smile, the faint blush colouring those cheeks, the almost-sickly pallor of the skin, and the thin bony fingers that flex themselves infrequently.

And of course, it's fate that it hits him then: maybe he's fallen in love too - fallen in love with someone who's in love with someone else; fallen for his first friend, his first crony, his best friend.

"Yeah," he says, eyes flickering back to the game at hand, the ghost of a smile etched on his lips. That’s - that's nice. So, is she pretty?"

The car crashes into a tree and a police car rolls up. A big, bright 'game over' flashes on the screen intermittently. 'No highscore' it tells him below. 'Play again?'

* * *

He’s eighteen, and by the looks of it, not going anywhere in his life. The letters of acceptance from different universities litter his room, giving company to the soda bottles and messy clothes strewn around. He shifts his feet and picks up a particularly bland looking one with his big toe that sticks out of the hole in his sock, but within moments it falls to the ground in a clear refusal to humour him. He pouts at it, then sighs, and throws back his arms as he falls onto the soft comfort of his bed.

The endless white expanse of the ceiling meets him, and he eyes it curiously. The words spill out abruptly, almost as if he's been waiting to voice them all along - "What should I do?"

The space stares back at him blankly. He wills it to move, but it stays still.

It’s the phone that answers him instead. "Kyuhyun," rings the breathless voice at the other end, "there's this singing competition to be held-"

Kyuhyun cuts him off, drawing a long sigh. "Not again? I’m really not that interested in singing, you know," - and it's such a blatant lie that he cringes.

The voice at the other end guffaws. "Yeah, right," is the bored drawl. "Now, as I was saying-"

"Jinwoon!" interrupts Kyuhyun, picking at the wire of the telephone. It's not like hasn't told the other guy time and again how his parents are against the idea of a career in music - and he admits himself that singing wouldn't be more fruitful than as a hobby - just a little way to pass time, something he can boast to his colleagues about when he's a high-ranking executive in some top business company or a novelist with an endless list of bestsellers or -

"They’re offering ten thousand as cash money and a chance to debut with the SM Entertainment to whoever wins."

Kyuhyun straightens up immediately. "Wouldn’t hurt to take a chance, right?" he says, and ignores the harsh laughter ringing in his ears for the dreams that are slowly building up in his mind.

* * *

He’s nineteen and a half - and already way too thin for his age, clucks his mother disapprovingly as she follows him through the kitchen and out. "Does the contract promise to feed you well?" she asks, settling on the sofa while her son struggles to shove a half-burnt toast in his mouth and fasten his watch simultaneously.

"Of course," he calls after, kicking the door open and dashing to the gate. "I think," he adds in much lower tones, and hails a cab to the SM Entertainment building - finally, he thinks, and the excitement and nervousness that hadn't existed until a moment ago suddenly builds up in his stomach.

"Stop your fluttering," he says angrily to his chest, looking out of the window hastily when he catches the taxi driver looking curiously at him through the mirror.

Not that it listens - threatening, almost, to burst out when he finally meets the manager.

"Leeteuk," is the first thing the manager says when he sees him, and a pale-looking man with an awkward chin and mousy hair steps from the shadows. Kyuhyun stutters out a 'hi', not trusting his self with anymore, and Leeteuk - leader of Super Junior, he remembers in awe - responds in kind, a short smiling nod that immediately puts Kyuhyun at ease.

The manager crosses his arms, mouth opening in an attempt to say something else, but the first strains of It's Raining cut through, preceding the husky voice. The manager flushes, bowing in apology as he flips his cellphone open and hurries a safe distance away.

He leaves in his wake an awkward silence that stiffens more and more with every passing moment. Kyuhyun shuffles awkwardly - focuses on the faint sound of water dripping somewhere far away - looks up and meets Leeteuk’s eyes - turns away -

"Are you nervous?" asks Leeteuk slowly. Kyuhyun opens his mouth without an answer ready, but Leeteuk comes to his help, following his question with short laughter as he realizes the foolishness of his question. Kyuhyun feels his hair stand on the end as the last of letup’s laugh peters out.

"That was a stupid question," admits the older man, looking a little embarrassed. "Of course you are-"

"I-" Kyuhyun interrupts suddenly, "do you think I’m ready for this?"

He stops at once, wondering what possessed him to speak -- maybe it's because his mouth's still hanging open that the words come out; or maybe it's because of the fact that he's warmed up to this man sooner than he'd have thought.

But it’s done now. His hesitation catches up with his mind, furthering only more when Leeteuk moves his gaze away. Kyuhyun watches him as he stares at the wall, a wistful smile on his face, and slowly begins to regret this strange urge he had to have bothered someone he doesn't even know with something so close to his heart - something he hadn't revealed to anyone before.

"Sometimes I wonder the same - whether I’m ready for this - whether I’m meant to be an idol..." he sighs, the fine lines on his forehead showing. “Whether I’m meant to be a leader."

He follows the words with a look at Kyuhyun, a smile spreading all over that beautiful face of his, and Kyuhyun feels a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as well. A silent message of understanding passes between them.

Kyuhyun nods. It may not be the perfect answer - but it conveys so much. Suddenly, he feels like he's not so alone anymore.

* * *

He’s twenty, and way too young to be dying.

"Hang in there," he hears someone saying, and there's a gentle pressure on his hand that doesn't lessen the pain, but makes it bearable all the same. He blinks the tears out of his eyes and thinks to himself, yeah, I’ll be alright.

"You’ll be alright," says Heechul, making himself comfortable on a chair in Kyuhyun’s room, months after he's become fit and fine himself. "Or you'll be breaking the hearts of thousands of girls,"

He picks at the petals of a fresh sunflower lying in the vase. "And boys," he adds.

He glares unhappily at the flower for ignoring him in favour of the luminous morning sky. "Not including me, of course," he states in a serious tone, turning to Kyuhyun. "The more you stay in the hospital here, the less competition I have for my pretty voice."

Kyuhyun laughs, or attempts to, at the very least, and a half-hearted croak comes out. Heechul saves his grace, smiling a little as he pats Kyuhyun on the back.

"Still, you'll be alright," he says once more, emphasizing each word with a kind of surety that only Heechul can bring. "We’re fellow commisserators, don't forget."

"As if you'll ever let me-" Kyuhyun tries to say, but ends up sighing and closing his eyes with all the effort it took.

* * *

He’s twenty two and he's just introduced the wonders of fine wine to his roommate and close friend.

It’s two am when he reaches his room and sees Sungmin looking at the screen of his cellphone blandly. Kyuhyun takes a curious peek, despite the sleep gathering in his eyes, and understands immediately.

He looks back at Sungmin’s morose face, and worries at his lip about the proper reaction to give. Finally, he settles for the one and only method he knows.

"Wine?" he asks, and Sungmin spares all but a doubtful glance in his direction.

"You’re supposed to be younger than me," says Sungmin ten minutes later dryly, shaking his glass. "I’m supposed to be the one knowing all this."

Kyuhyun grins into the glass and relishes the tangy taste in his mouth. "Not everything works that way, hyung."

* * *

He’s twenty two years, eight months and three days old - and highly drunk as of four am right now.

"Somwhaneul mahraebwa!" croons Zhou Mi into the mike, shaking his hips in time to the beats.

Kyuhyun falls back on the ragged couch of the noraebang, clutching his stomach as his laughter threatens to murder him right then and there.

Zhou Mi sneaks a hand up his thigh slowly, throwing his head back as his eyes flash dangerously. "I’m genie for you boy," he says, winking at Kyuhyun, who now kneels to the ground with his head bowed and tears streaming out of his eyes.

"Mercy," he begs, "please." but Zhou Mi is now wriggling his index and middle finger, shaped like a 'v', in front of his left eye.

So he cries "I hate you," instead, shoulders shaking with all the effort it takes to laugh so hard.

Zhou Mi, who is now singing garbled Korean with his hands clutching tightly at the mike, takes the cue and starts singing, "I love you!" in terribly high pitch. "Kui Xian," he sings, regardless of the beat, "I love you~"

Kyuhyun gets up slowly, then shoves away Zhou Mi and attempts to snatch the mike. "Let me show you how this is done," he cries, and they end up engaged in a half-hearted tussle with Zhou Mi shrieking "blasphemy" and Kyuhyun’s hands going up to cover his mouth as Sohee’s exclaim of "omona!" fills the room.

He could be six, for all that matters.

---

original title: kyuhyun through the ages (dinosaur through the ages? homo sapiens through the ages? now coming to a store near you: kyuhyun through the ages!)

the original version also had zhou mi singing about kyuhyun's pubic hair but i don't think you want to know how that goes.

[Hankyung-centric] Always the Supressed One

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 17:20:36 GMT

Title: Always the Supressed One
Rating: G
Summary: He's the unusual one, the one who doesn't disobey the rules.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.

He’s been a city boy all his life – used to the bright lights of the malls and the panache of the high-end suburbs he lives in, friends who bring Audis to school and don’t think twice before throwing away their money on expensive nothings, and glamorous dinners every Saturday at the nicest hotels in town.

It’s a little disconcerting then, when his parents announce suddenly one day that he should take a break –go back to his grandparents’ house in the countryside, what about it Hankyung?

He smiles and nods and says yes, why not - not because they wouldn’t have taken no for an answer, but because they wouldn’t have expected a no from him in the first place; they’ve probably made all the plans already. And Hankyung, good boy that he is, truly a parent’s dream, conforms to his parents’ expectations with the smile and the nod that is expected of him and asks, so when do I leave?

They beam at him, proud parents to a son who is completely different from those rebellious young teenagers and spoiled little brats they hear about everywhere. Next week, they answer in tandem. Hankyung, your grandparents will be really happy to see you. You won’t disappoint them, will you?

I never do disappoint, do I, Hankyung almost says, but he catches himself and stops speaking, only shaking his head mutely. It’s kind of ironic how he feels disappointed then, even though he’s been used to this for so long.

“It’s called being a normal young teenager,” he remembers Heechul saying, and despite the fact that it isn’t really funny – other than the straight face and intonation with which Heechul throws those words out – he almost laughs right in front of his unsuspecting parents. Almost.

---

stereotyping omg.

i'm really in favour of continuing this, although the pairing in my mind is a rare!pair (and it's going to get so weird, idek.)

[Kyuhyun/Sungmin] My Life is Average (But My High School Is Not)

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 12:33:28 GMT

Title: My Life is Average (But My High School Is Not)
Rating: slightly PG
Summary: In which Sungmin is the very busy editor of the high school newspaper and Kyuhyun is probably an insane genius.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.
Notes: Not actually based on the real MLIA, but hey, the title fit. This is crack, okay. Or I think I was on crack when I wrote this.

The only good thing about being the editor and the entire staff of his high school’s newspaper? Is that the hot chicks dig you. No, really.

“Hiii Sungmin,” says the chirpy one belonging to the hot-girl-next-door-breed, cute pigtails and all, “I really, really liked yesterday’s article on snow leopards in Alaska.”

Sungmin grins the hey-babe grin he’s been perfecting all night. “Oh yeah?”

“So," she starts, her long eyelashes fluttering and Sungmin isn’t actually listening anymore, not that he ever was, because those legs are kind of distracting - and shouldn't someone be making a law right now banning these kinds of skirts? god he is so entering politics after grad school - “When will you being doing that feature on pretty high school girls? You know, the one you promised back in tenth grade?”

His grin falters as his eyes snap up from her legs to face, and she looks pretty serious (pretty serious, yeah, smart one Sungmin). “P-pretty high school girls? Oh yeah, I’m planning on doing that article next week – but hey now, did you see the Calvin and Hobbes strip - “

She stalks away without so much as a bye and he eyes the last of her legs sadly as they disappear down the hall. Girls – they don’t pay attention to you until you make them famous (or promise to, as in his case).

So okay, maybe the hot chick part isn’t actually true – not yet, at least. But that’s only because this high school –-- is full of nutcases.

There's the math teacher for one, short and plump and bald and talks about math equations all day, and rumour has it that he’s going out with hot Miss. Choi, the English teacher, and that is either bullshit or real good luck or something really wrong with the school’s water.

Sungmin has his bet on the last one, and never mind those stares he gets for the next few weeks, that front-page article on the water faucets was clearly well researched. And yeah, he’s definitely going to find out the secret behind this mystery as soon as he –

Finishes bumping into tall guy here. “I’m sorry,” he says grumpily, getting back on his feet as he rubs his ass gingerly, “that you weren’t seeing where you were going.”

Tall guy snorts. “Time of the month yet?” And excuse him but clearly freshman here or whoever he is was the one in the wrong, and Sungmin is not going to let that go, no way in hell -

“Oh hey,” says tall guy, interrupting his really important thoughts as realization seems to dawn on him, “You’re the faucet guy – I mean, the editor, Lee Sungmin, right?”

Sungmin nods brusquely. “Yeah, so?” His anger is wearing off faster than he’d have thought, but this guy seems less stupid than he looks so he decides to give him a chance.

“That article on snow leopards yesterday was really good,” says tall guy now, looking clearly impressed.

Sungmin’s a nice guy and that’s why he forgives easily. “Thank you,” he says, the grumpiness in his tone softening but not entirely gone, he’s not that easy okay, and you need to be a little strict with kids these days or they won’t learn.

Kid doesn’t seem to notice, though. “Cho Kyuhyun,” he says smilingly, and for a moment Sungmin is taken back to those days of freshman innocence, back when everything was rainbows and sunshine and girls hit on you, not guys, before he realizes –

“Oh! You’re the new prodigy aren’t you?” He racks his brains some more, “’Cho Kyuhyun, boy extraordinaire’ something?” Another freak, but he can’t blame it on the water this time, guy got famous before entering their high school. Not that it stops Sungmin from eyeing Kyuhyun suspiciously.

“Yeah, that’s me,” replies Kyuhyun, looking a bit nervous and more than slightly embarrassed, and aw, he’s blushing now –

“Good, because we have an interview scheduled right now,” And Sungmin yanks him by the hand down the hall to the ‘printing room’ (which is actually just a better name than store room) even as Kyuhyun’s cries for help and “what are you doing to me!” are ignored by the students milling around, and Sungmin even waves at the principal who passes them, good guy, that man.

“We’re here,” announces Sungmin, pushing him into the only seat in the dank as hell room. He himself prefers to stand while doing the interrogating, makes him feel like a policeman and all. Role-play, that's his favourite hobby.

Kyuhyun looks like a cat trapped in a cage, frantic and nervous and Sungmin can practically visualize the clawing. “What the hell?” he asks, trying to act as unaffected as he can, the terror in his voice clearly not helping.

“Don’t worry,” says Sungmin as soothingly as possible, removing the pen from his breast pocket and grabbing the notepad lying on his desk – that’s Sungmin, always ready for whatever life throws at you – “I’ll only take up five minutes of your time.”

Surprisingly, and thankfully, Kyuhyun nods and acquiesces immediately. So maybe Sungmin should be suspicious - but there are more pressing matters at hand, so he tells the alarm bells ringing in his head to pipe it down. “Now,” he says, clicking the pen absently on his notepad, “So what got you famous in the first place?”

That’s how interviewers do it - basics first. “Well I,” he pauses as if he’s trying to phrase this properly, propping his thick black glasses up, and then he looks up at Sungmin. “I discovered the amorase gene,”

“Never heard of that,” says Sungmin, staring back interestedly. The kid wears the nerdy look quite well. “Tell me more,”

“Well,” he says, and his lips have relaxed into a grin that makes him look surprisingly fine, “it’s a gene that does things to people.” He laughs then, and Sungmin really likes the sound, and well no, this is not the time to be distracted, so he walks closer.

Closer, until he’s right next to Kyuhyun. He leans back against the desk, a hand sprawled on the smooth surface of the table as he eyes Kyuhyun carefully. “Things to people?” Curiosity gets the better of him, maybe this will explain the mystery behind the math teacher’s strange relationship and all the freaks in school – and now that he’s closer, Kyuhyun really does look fucking fine. “Elaborate, please,”

Kyuhyun’s grin is now a smirk.

“It makes them hotter.”

And in such a twist of events, Kyuhyun suddenly stands up and leans in, his lips pressing against Sungmin’s, and Sungmin has his eyes wide open but the kiss is admittedly nice, and Kyuhyun’s glasses are kind of getting in the way and so he removes them, good call, and now there's the addition of tongue –

“Oh-kay, stop,” says Sungmin loudly and shoves him away, which is a good thing because being pushed against the desk made him feel so uncomfortable.

Kyuhyun apparently does not like being told to stop. “What,” he mumbles, the kiss probably still going on in his mind (and taking some dangerous turns Sungmin really does not want to think about, thank you for that visual, brain), “gene not working?”

“Haha,” says Sungmin flatly. “Now I know I’m really good looking and all, but that does not mean you can have me doing sexual favours to you whenever you want, and can we continue the interview, please, and pretend like nothing happened? I want to keep my job, you know,”

Kyuhyun snorts, and now Sungmin awaits the snarky no-one-wants-your-job-anyway, yeah, why don't you all come at me, jealous bitches -

“You’ll get the full interview if you agree to my demands first.”

So Sungmin underestimates this kid a lot. On to business, huh? He considers it. First, no one really reads the newspaper anyway (except the comic strips and the gossip section, everyone loves that). Second, he doesn’t do deals. Third…

The kid is kind of hot, okay. And while Sungmin doesn’t do non-girls and certainly not the younger ones – well, he could make an exception.

“Deal,” says Sungmin.

“But,” he adds, as Kyuhyun grabs him by the waist – god, do these kids have no patience? – “not against the desk.”

“How about on it?”

No wonder the guy’s called boy extraordinaire (or okay, Sungmin’s exaggerating just a little bit, but then again he hasn’t had a smart one in so long).

-

“Hm, yeah, did a little bit of research on bacteria, and suddenly everyone’s all ‘You are such a genius ohmygod’ and hey, it’s not like I disliked it,” says Kyuhyun, leaning against his shoulder and looking very sleepy.

Sungmin is, too - sleepy that is, not a genius - but he has a duty to uphold, being editor and all. “Did work on germs – uh huh.” He types, clicks, and voila, it’s done.

“There, only the pictures left now,”

“Do it quick,” demands Kyuhyun, and Sungmin doesn’t take demands from kids but he’s kind of sleepy anyway and it would be good if he could finish this real fast – drag and drop that picture of Kyuhyun from the school database, and a googled picture of germs, like anyone would care to check, the captions typed in Verdana – and there, he’s done.

“I’ll ask the janitor to do the printing,” he shrugs, and hauls Kyuhyun, who’s now sleeping on the floor, up. “Come on now, you, we still have some unfinished business.”

* * *

The newspaper next morning has an exciting, front-page interview of a certain Cho Kyuhyun. Underneath the title is a picture of germs and below the picture is the caption, “Cho Kyuhyun, boy extraordinaire”. Right next to the picture is the other picture of a young, bespectacled boy, and beneath this is the caption, “His ground-breaking work on germs.”

“And then my math teacher asked me whether I was infectious,” says Kyuhyun angrily, and okay, Sungmin admits, that is pretty hilarious.

---

LOL OKAY WHAT IS THIS. i like the last part, though. makes this story so much more worthwhile, yeah.

EDIT: crying I just realized that this was my 50th entry over here ;_; happy 50th entry, anakari! from pathetically bad stories to hilariously bad ones, you've come such a long way ♥♥♥

(note: i'd rather you not actually click on any of those links)

[Hankyung/Heechul] Never Too Late

Sun, 25 Oct 2009 17:51:28 GMT

Title: Never Too Late
Rating: G
Summary: It takes them years to realize what their relationship really means.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.
Notes: War!AU.

“This isn’t what I signed up for,” spits Heechul, his lips widening into a derisive smirk. “I want a real fight, not a bunch of sissies who don’t even know how to duel properly.”

Sweat trickles down his face and the wound in his side hurts, but Hankyung still can’t stop that laugh from coming out. That’s the Heechul he knows – vain and scornful and brutally honest.

Heechul, eyeing the oncoming soldier with a disgusted look then proceeds to show just how he thinks proper dueling should be done. The poor soldier – probably in his mid-twenties, with a wife waiting for him back home – doesn’t even get to raise his shield before he crumples to the ground, blood spilling over the muddy earth.

Heechul steps away, disdain colouring his face as he looks back at Hankyung. “I’ve honestly seen better,”

Hankyung’s face splits into a grim smile; Heechul is way too good at his duty, and way too good at pretending to be unbothered by it all. He twists his head to look at Heechul, a retort ready at his lips, but the words die when he sees Heechul start to gesture wildly, running toward him, and he looks around to where Heechul’s pointing.

The last thing he sees is the man’s wild, almost child-like expression of rage.

And strangely, he laughs, like he knows that it's time, but it's all wrong ---

“This isn’t how it was meant to be.”

* * *

It’s pure coincidence, their meeting, but Heechul likes to call it fate. But then, that’s the Heechul he knows - a believer in fate rather than chance.

He, Hankyung, is supposed to be helping his parents in moving in the luggage instead of wandering out to see the neighborhood. He, Heechul, is supposed to be sitting in his stuffy room, remembering important dates in history instead of doodling on the edges of the margin and looking out of the window so wistfully.

“Fate,” says Heechul so many times that he’s lost count. “It was fate that brought us together.”

And Hankyung may scoff and ignore Heechul as much as he wants, but he can’t deny the fact that if Heechul hadn’t looked out and seen him wandering around like a lost child, if he hadn’t run out of his house quickly as he ignored his mother’s calls, if he hadn’t come to a stop in front of his very own eyes and looked at him so curiously, outstretching his hand a little later, they wouldn’t have been what they did, after all, become.

Because then Hankyung would probably never have seen that look of pure enthusiasm mingled with a touch of friendliness and admitted boredom.

And then he wouldn’t have heard those memorable words that did it, after all.

“You look like a prince.”

Heechul would deny for years afterwards that he had said anything like that, the tips of his ear flaming red as he blamed Hankyung for lying so blatantly, and Hankyung would smile and look at the stars as they lay on the grass like they always did, pretending not to hear – a trait that made Heechul flush red and shove him around angrily until he dropped the act.

Hankyung never, ever forgets those words.

* * *

All the memories of his distant childhood that Hankyung treasures so much seem to revolve around him and Heechul only.

It’s true, though; they’ve spent all their days together, attached to the hip, lying in the dewy grass on midsummer mornings with the breeze lifting their hair up playfully, their fingers intertwining in nothing but innocence, the amicable silence broken once or twice by meaningful whispers.

He remembers being the first – and only – who hears in Heechul’s calm words his first experience of being beaten by his parents.

He remembers being pushed face down into the dirty sand of the playground by Heechul as he screams and begs for mercy, his cries punctuated with endless laughter.

He remembers knocking on Heechul’s door endlessly, waiting for a reply, for something.

He remembers taking Heechul by the hand one day when he sees the bruised eye, and running away, far away, in the rain. They’ve only reached the playground before Heechul declares himself tired, and they take shelter under the large tree, sitting down on the wet ground with rain drops streaming down their faces, more so on Heechul’s face.

He remembers the sound of rain pattering on the ground; of the wind blowing eerily; of the rustling of leaves as the branches shake in terror; of Heechul leaning closer and closer until he can feel the faint, warm breath on his lips.

They never talk about it again.

But after that day, something changes. Their conversations remain the same – the little visits to the comfort of the dew grass stay – but something, something, so little and so faint and almost invisible, changes.

* * *

The war creeps up on them closer than they’d have thought.

Days pass with everyone in denial, whispers and rumours fly around, and stories are hushed up. Then, one day, it starts – and there’s panic all around, with terror in the air, and people leaving, and Hankyung knows it’s time.

So does Heechul.

“It’s time,” he says, sneering a little, so typical of Heechul.

If someone had then asked Hankyung whether he was scared, whether the war terrified him, whether he wanted no involvement in the war, he’d have said a simple, unfaltering, fearless no.

And the answer would never have changed.

* * *

His death isn’t instantaneous, but painful and bleeding and the darkness in his eyes slowly grows larger, but he fights it, fights it, just for that last glimpse.

Heechul, over him, looking at him – are those tears streaming down his face? – enraged, sorrowful, asking him not to die, begging –--

He closes his eyes then, a peaceful smile stretched across his face.

* * *

Ten years after Hankyung’s death, Heechul is back in the place he calls home.

“I’ll take some time,” he tells his wife. She nods understandingly, gives him her soft smile, and takes the hand of their ten year old child.

But he stays rooted to the spot, firm and stubborn, and looks at his father pleadingly. “Appa,” he says, “can’t I come with you?”

Heechul laughs and nods, outstretching his hand. “Of course you can,”

Somehow, they find their way in his house. It’s in ruins, the door broken and the roof leaking, and while the neighbor tells his interested son the sad story of the owners whose son died in the war, Heechul wanders around.

He finds the door hanging apart at the hinges, and steps inside Hankyung’s room as softly as he can.

It’s scary how all these years have dimmed the pain of his death, leaving him only with a slight twinge of pain as the memories they shared come back. Suddenly scared, he closes his eyes and tries to remember the build of Hankyung’s face, those amber eyes, that cheeky smile, but panic grabs him as all he sees is a hazy blur –--

“Appa,” says his child’s voice, and Heechul opens his eyes to see his son coming towards him and handing him a folded paper. “Look what I found!”

His eyes widen as he sees the paper and written on top of it in that scrawny, familiar, almost illegible handwriting his name – Heechul.

He breathes hard and opens it, and those tears that had promised to dry out so many years ago fall down unfaithfully.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you, Heechul.

A ten year old, scrawny looking kid, with pasty skin and small eyes. Heechul’s breath hitches for some strange reason, and without any warning the thought in his mind stumbles out from his lips.

“You look like a prince.”

---

inspired (somewhat) by this. i admit i only watched it at first for jinwoon (cries and 8eight was my first ever k-pop love too, oh 2007), but ugh ♥ made me tear up so much ;_;

[Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi] The Taste of Freedom

Sat, 24 Oct 2009 15:15:30 GMT

Title: The Taste of Freedom
Rating: PG-13
Summary: One day, they decide to escape.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.
Notes: Incredibly long, and somewhat unrealistic D:

He says it first. It’s barely a whisper – the words creating a mere idea that is more impossible than improbable.

Yet, they make their imprint, stuck in his mind for days; crawling into each thought and each idea and each daydream, until it becomes more than just a thought – it becomes conviction.

It’s him who repeats the thought some days later, although they seem like ages, given the effort it’s taken to take root in his mind. The words aren’t his of course; they’re only a mere repetition of what was told to him by the same person he’s telling them to right now. But it’s the conviction that somehow makes them more believable.

Still, they remain but simple words, until that day when Kyuhyun can stand no more, and he pulls Zhou Mi by the hand, whispers those unclear words into his ears yet again.

“Come,” he says, “let’s escape,”

And Zhou Mi takes a moment to look at him before he realizes the seriousness of those words. Yet, there’s no hesitation this time as he grabs the outstretched hand, his grip firm with trust, and follows after.

* * *

The two thin strips of paper he holds firmly in his hand are immediately snatched away by Zhou Mi, who turns to study them closely.

“Paris?” He asks a beat later, his tiny brown eyes widened with curiosity.

“Yeah,” replies Kyuhyun, settling into the chair beside with a sigh akin to an old man’s. “Hyukjae hyung said it was a really good place – why, don’t you like it?”

Zhou Mi’s laughter is simultaneously mutinous and yielding. “I thought we’d settle for something closer – like Japan, you know,” he says lightly. “But Paris… yeah, that sounds nice,” he trails off, his thoughts turning to the wonders of Paris – of the Eiffel tower and good-looking ladies and great art…

Kyuhyun’s fingers lightly comb through his hair before coming to rest at the back of his neck, breaking his reverie. “Never mind, we have all the time in the world,” he chuckles.

“Do we,” adds Zhou Mi, the question hesitant of being fully shaped. His smile is caught between uncertainty and nervousness, and the tone of his voice stops just short of implying both.

Kyuhyun must have noticed the hesitation – sometimes Zhou Mi can’t help but suspect if he’s clairvoyant – for he moves his hand away from its position at the back of Zhou Mi’s neck, replacing it with his lips.

It’s only a faint touch, light teasing that Kyuhyun is so often prone to, and yet the feel of the chaste kiss lingers, as does Zhou Mi’s widening smile.

“It’ll be alright,” breathes Kyuhyun, and just for this once Zhou Mi wants to believe.

* * *

They each pack three pairs of clothes into one large suitcase, along with toothbrushes and soap and medicine and other supplies that Zhou Mi’s checklist deems necessary.

They also pack in an assortment of sunglasses and hats, and Kyuhyun even drops in a few wigs he’d stolen earlier that day from the dressing room despite the look of pure incredulity Zhou Mi gives him (and to his credit, he is rewarded for these extra cautions later).

It’s Kyuhyun decision to leave the cell phones behind, and although Zhou Mi understands the reason, he still feels a pang of despair.

Finally, they’re done. Kyuhyun slips in a photo of his family, and then of Zhou Mi’s family.

He hesitates a moment before tearing the Super Junior poster off his wall and throwing it inside.

It’s eleven in the night when they shuffle out, moving the stroller as slowly and soundlessly as they can. Hangeng, Siwon, Donghae, Henry and Ryeowook, all are sound asleep, understandably so after a long day of activities and with the prospect of a free Sunday awaiting them. Zhou Mi too finds his eyelids getting heavy, and without Kyuhyun’s prodding (who himself struggles to keep awake) he might not have made it to the exit.

They hire a cab, hats on just in case, but the driver seems too sleepy to recognize them at all. It’s the same at the airport – they only get a few odd looks in their direction for wearing those silly hats.

Zhou Mi’s eyelids close as soon as the back of his head hits the seat, hands coming to rest on the comfortable recline. Another hand comes to rest on his own, and he’s already started dreaming of adventures and new lands and such when there’s a slight sound.

“Do you think we should be doing this?”

The laughter dies at the tip of Zhou Mi’s tongue. He opens his eyes instead, staring ahead unseeingly; the dream’s worn off for him too, and now the harsh reality faces him.

“We’re already this far,” he says, the very words he know Kyuhyun would’ve expected. He catches the faint nod from the corner of his eye.

“Was it cowardly of us?” he continues, picking up from where Kyuhyun left. In essence, it’s the same kind of question – the answer is one they both know, and yet it has to be voiced all the same, if only to assuage their insecurities and tell them everything’s fine.

It furthers Zhou Mi’s desire to laugh, actually – they’re both so foolish and selfish and –

“We needed it,” replies Kyuhyun weakly, closing his eyes as a sign to end their hopeless conversation.

- Despicable.

* * *

The bright sunshine of Paris reflected on the wing of the plane is the first thing that Zhou Mi gets up to next morning, his eyes widening more and more with every passing second. Kyuhyun glances at him amusedly, even as he looks around excitedly.

“Isn’t that the Eiffel tower?” he exclaims, pointing to a large structure in the distance.

Kyuhyun snorts and smacks him on the arm. “No you idiot, it’s the airport, and we’re supposed to be getting off right now,” he laughs, shaking his head derisively.

Zhou Mi pouts – “I was only kidding,” he says, with Kyuhyun bobbing his head up and down mockingly to that statement – and follows after.

The airport is incredibly confusing, and they get lost five minutes into the building. Thankfully for them, Zhou Mi accidentally crashes into a Chinese guy as they wander around lost, who turns out to be very helpful and successfully directs them to the right place.

They thank the guy profusely and huddle next to each other, feeling quite foolish (“To think we’re famous pop stars,” deadpans Kyuhyun) as they come down the escalator.

“Now what do we do?” starts Kyuhyun as soon as they’re on ground, eyeing the exit wearily.

“Let’s sightsee!” suggests Zhou Mi.

“I want to go too,” starts Kyuhyun, “But how do we-” he stops immediately, his eyes flickering to the corner where a short, stocky man stands.

“Why is that guy staring at us?” he asks, lowering his voice.

“Holy shit,” says Zhou Mi, barely able to lower his own voice, “Do you think he’s recognized us?”

Kyuhyun opens his mouth to reply but stops – there’s a small tap on his shoulder.

“Excuse me,” says a deep voice in a foreign tongue, and Kyuhyun quizzically turns on his heels, coming face to face with the owner of the voice.

It’s the man who was staring at them. On closer inspection, he isn’t as short as they’d imagined, but pale and blonde. He wears a simple black suit and is holding a placard in his hand.

“Excuse me,” says the man again, and both Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi stare at him dumbly as he rattles of something in what sounds like English (not that they’d know, it could be French too). He finishes with a toothy grin, clearly thinking that they both understood him, and Zhou Mi doesn’t fail to notice how pearly white his teeth are, and that’s kind of distracting –

Kyuhyun gives the man a pleading smile, holding up one finger nervously, and pulls Zhou Mi away by the arm.

“What the fuck was that man saying?” He asks the minute they’re a safe distance away from him.

“I think he was offering to be our tour guide,” tries Zhou Mi.

Kyuhyun stares at him. “And how do you know that?”

“Well, you asked,” replies Zhou Mi defensively. He sneaks a quick glance at the man, but the man notices it and stares back at him curiously, leaving him with no choice but to embarrassedly snap his eyes away. “Anyway, he’s got one of those placards which look like those ‘guide for hire’ things, don’t you think? Plus, he’s wearing a suit…” he trails off, defeated.

To his surprise, however, Kyuhyun seems convinced. “Yeah,” he says, “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

Zhou Mi stands agape for a moment before it hits him, and for the first time in what seems like eternity his laughter doesn’t feel overshadowed by contrivance or anxiety.

“You are so desperate,” he laughs.

“It’s not like we have any other way out, with the language barrier and everything,” reasons Kyuhyun stoutly, and stalks ahead, ignoring Zhou Mi’s loud laughter as it trails after him.

They get into a white car after the guy, who sits in the driver’s seat. He twists his head one last time to grin at them and Zhou Mi catches the pearly white once more – and not to be outdone, he smiles back just as toothily.

Ten minutes into the drive and the expression on Zhou Mi’s face is grimmer than ever as he holds Kyuhyun’s wrist in a death grip while the driver swerves and zooms around the dense traffic, rolling down his window at frequent intervals to yell at the adventurous pedestrians and cyclists.

“What did you get us into?” he cries at Kyuhyun, whose face is a deathly pale white.

“It was your idea!” hisses Kyuhyun, staring at the driver who is now singing along to the song on radio.

“Just so you know, I love you,” whispers Zhou Mi, almost on the brink of tears, nails digging into Kyuhyun’s skin.

“We’re here!” announces the driver happily, bringing the car to an abrupt halt. He turns to look at the two of them, placing his palm on the other seat. “This is the site of the proposed factory, sirs,” he says in his accented English.

The two of them stare back at him quizzically.

“The factory,” he tries again. They give him the blank look once more.

Is my English that bad? He asks himself, frowning a little bit as his eyes catch their intertwined fingers.

“The silk factory-”

“…”

“The silk factory – THE FACTORY! Fa-cto-ry,” he cries, but it only succeeds in making them cower into their seats.

He lets his head fall miserably to the side, mumbling under his breath about “these foreigners”, his anger rising by the second. Then he remembers the money he’s going to get ---

Money, ah, yes, he thinks, and immediately straightens up, ignoring their confused stares.

“You,” he tries again, somewhat firmly this time, pointing at the two of them one by one, “are,” he pauses, then, “Mr. and Mr. Lee, are you not?”

The two blink at him.

“Zhou Mi,” says one, pointing to himself.

The other points to himself and says, “Kui Xian,”

The man swears loudly. “WHAT.”

“He didn’t need to throw us out like that,” says Zhou Mi indignantly, rubbing his ass delicately.

“Well, he had good reason to,” says Kyuhyun as they start walking on the pavement, “Some tour guide he was,” he snorts.

Zhou Mi sulks. “It’s not like I know English,”

“You certainly know how to pretend,”

“Hey!” says Zhou Mi, and then stops short suddenly. Kyuhyun brushes past, rolling his eyes, but then there’s a tug at his sleeve and he is forced to stop too.

“What?” he asks briskly – the land on his butt still hurts.

But Zhou Mi doesn’t seem to care. He opens and closes his mouth, and Kyuhyun almost takes another step ahead when he finally speaks.

“Isn’t that the Eiffel tower?” he says for the second time in the day, and Kyuhyun would probably not have taken him seriously had his voice not been quivering.

He follows Zhou Mi’s line of sight, and stares ahead.

For once – and Zhou Mi swears he will never let this moment be forgotten – Kyuhyun is left speechless. The majestic structure stands in the distance, sun beaming through the metal, and his jaw almost drops down, similar to Zhou Mi’s.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” says Zhou Mi softly, almost reverentially.

Kyuhyun nods, lost for words, and given the event the reaction could not have been more apt.

Then the moment breaks. “We’re going to search for a hotel first,” says Kyuhyun abruptly, taking Zhou Mi’s hand in his own. “Come on!” he insists, and Zhou Mi stumbles after slowly, his endless suggestions for the places growing fainter and fainter as they lose themselves in the hustle and bustle of the city – something that hasn’t happened in, Kyuhyun thinks wistfully, so long.

* * *

They decide to travel on foot, a mode of transport which the old Chinese owner of the shady hotel they’re currently staying in promises is “a good way to know Paris,” in his reedy voice as he hands them a battered map.

Kyuhyun, economical that he is, readily acquiesces, while Zhou Mi complains in unhappy tones about the weather from behind his branded glasses – “But Kui Xian, we could’ve even afforded a bus!” – until his eyes fall upon the trendy clothes shop.

Then Kyuhyun’s the one complaining (or regretting his decision, rather).

Carrying the heavy bags, however, doesn’t deter Zhou Mi in the slightest, and he makes his way into many shops, by the end of which Kyuhyun is kind of impressed at the pink shirt he is now a proud owner of.

Hunger finally overcomes them, and after a furious protest by his stomach Kyuhyun has no choice but to pull Zhou Mi inside one of the cafés in the vicinity. It’s emptier than they’d have thought which gives them a free choice among the seats, and Zhou Mi immediately makes way for the seat closest to all the cakes on display, with Kyuhyun grinning after.

Which is good actually, seeing as they cannot decipher the menu written entirely in French (and that may just be the reason for the lack of tourists), and have to resort to pointing at the cake of their choice.

The only waiter, a grumpy looking stick thin man, rolls his eyes and says something in French under his breath before turning away.

“Did he just diss us?” asks Zhou Mi, blinking at the waiter’s ass.

“We’re the stupid foreigners after all,” grins Kyuhyun.

The cake arrives, and it’s larger than they’d believed. Not that it’s much of a problem for them; Kyuhyun’s mouth is watering and Zhou Mi doesn’t even wait for the right cutlery as he digs into the cake.

“You are such a glutton,” laughs Kyuhyun, trying to shove him away.

They push each other while fighting over the cake, only looking up when there’s a slight cough to see the disgruntled face of the waiter.

“I love this guy,” says Kyuhyun, lowering his voice, “Antagonizing him is such fun,”

He pauses in the midst of their little fight to seize a small piece of cake, and without any warning he pushes it into Zhou Mi’s mouth. Zhou Mi fights back a snort as he catches the look of the waiter, licking Kyuhyun’s finger free of the last traces of cake, and then lingering some more.

“That was delicious!” he says loudly.

The waiter’s tray crashes onto the floor, and the two of them stare at him as he hurriedly gathers everything and stalks away, head held high.

“This is even better than embarrassing Siwon with those porn magazines,” snickers Kyuhyun, but Zhou Mi is too busy shaking with laughter to manage a reply (“We shouldn’t have done that,” he tries later – too late by then, though).

The bill is handed to them by the waiter’s trembling hands ages after their laughter has died and the cake is finished, somewhat forlornly.

Kyuhyun takes out his wallet and keeps pulling out the notes until the waiter, who stands as near as he can, signals for him to stop.

It’s then that Zhou Mi realizes. “No credit cards?” he asks.

Kyuhyun shakes his head slowly. “It would be easy to track us if we used credit cards.”

“You don’t want to be caught, do you?”

“And do you?”

The bells in the café chime as the door is pushed open, and Kyuhyun walks out, with a bow to the waiter, onto the streets of Paris in the evening sunshine.

Zhou Mi slowly drags his feet after. It’s as if the first seeds of doubt have been sown in his mind.

* * *

“Place de la Concorde,” breathes Zhou Mi, looking up from his map. Kyuhyun nods dumbly, turning his face slowly as he catches sight of more and more monuments.

They make a beeline for the Eiffel tower, but after hours of waiting just to get inside Kyuhyun loses his cool. Grabbing Zhou Mi’s hand, he starts walking back to the Place de la Concorde.

“We could’ve waited just a little more-” starts Zhou Mi, and then stops abruptly.

“No, wait, this is better,” he changes immediately, beaming at Kyuhyun, who chuckles along.

They’re in the Tuileries Gardens. The fresh scent of flowers in the air mingle with the sound of the water as it falls from the fountain and the whispered endearments of lovers around, creating this beautiful experience that Zhou Mi has so fallen in love with.

He sighs, and closes his eyes, and lets his fingers interlace in Kyuhyun’s as he lies down.

Love – it’s fragile and momentary and unstable, and passionate and idyllic and beautiful. It makes him want to forget about those little shards of uncertainty and fear that cling to him, be unmindful of his mistakes and selfishness and everything that he knows is wrong with what they’re doing right now, and let him enjoy this moment that may never come back.

In fact, he thinks, love is what prompted him to act on his desire in the first place, isn’t it?

It’s strangely ironic how the next moment he suddenly remembers that time when the seven of them, Super Junior M, were on that interview – Donghae laughing as Henry and Ryeowook revealed that they wore Hangeng’s underwear, and Hangeng’s stoic, I-will-get-you-for-this expression, and Siwon’s renewed struggle with chinese, and Kyuhyun being cocky, and the seven of them, together…

Isn’t that love too?

“Super Junior,” he breathes slowly under his breath, lightly enough for Kyuhyun to not hear. The words sound so foreign on his lips.

He clutches Kyuhyun’s hand more tightly and stops thinking, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the flowers.

“Where do you want to go next?” asks Kyuhyun softly, breaking his daydream.

There’s silence for a while as Zhou Mi considers the question.

“Switzerland,” he says randomly.

He can feel Kyuhyun’s inquisitive stare on himself, and opens his eyes just to enjoy the baffled look Kyuhyun surely will have.

He does. “Why on earth-?” he asks, blinking twice.

Zhou Mi laughs as the familiar words come to his mind, and his eyes gleam mischievously.

“We have all the time in the world,” he mimics, “Don’t we?”

* * *

Apparently they don’t.

“Come on, you ass,” are the hazy words that Zhou Mi dreams Kyuhyun is telling him. He pouts and waves his hands, mumbling about being tired when someone shakes his shoulders.

“Get up!” say the words, clearly and loudly this time, more urgent – and definitely real. Okay, so maybe this isn’t a dream.

He blinks and opens his eyes with some struggle, yawn cut short when he is suddenly pulled upright.

“Get ready, you doofus,” says Kyuhyun, looking annoyed and highly panicked.

“What’s the matter Kui Xian?” asks a disruntled Zhou Mi, rubbing his eyes slowly.

He’s abruptly dragged to his feet. “Our train is leaving in ten minutes,” replies Kyuhyun grimly for the full effect.

Zhou Mi takes a look at the clock. “Oh -”

09:50 AM says the lovely blue digital clock hanging on the wall.

“Uh Oh.”

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” says Kyuhyun shortly, stuffing the shopping bags as quick as he can into the bag.

They arrive at the station (“Gare de l'Est - it goes to Zurich”, the old Chinese owner had said) and are running. Suddenly, Kyuhyun stops. Zhou Mi bumps into him, and starts. “What’s wrong?”

Kyuhyun jerks his head at the scene ahead - there are two trains on either side of the platform.

“Okay,” says Zhou Mi slowly, “so what are we supposed to do now?”

Kyuhyun gives a miserable shrug. “No use asking the conductor either, he wouldn’t understand us-”

They stand there for a while, clearly looking the wretched foreigner part, when Kyuhyun tugs at Zhou Mi’s hand. “We have to do something soon - the train will be leaving in two minutes,”

“Well,” starts Zhou Mi, looking around, “my gut tells me that our train is the one on the right.”

Kyuhyun gives him a long, hard look. Then he turns on his heels, yanking Zhou Mi along. “That decides it, we’re taking the left!” He announces.

Zhou Mi stomps his feet, effectively stopping Kyuhyun. “Right, I said,”

“Your gut,” scoffs Kyuhyun, “is generally wrong.”

“I’m older than you,” insists Zhou Mi stubbornly, “it’s time you started listening to your elders.”

Kyuhyun is about to retort when there’s an announcement on the speakers. People start to move around, and he looks around, his panic clearly increasing.

“Okay, we need to take a decision quickly.”

“Right,” says Zhou Mi firmly, and without hesitation stalks to the train of his choice. Kyuhyun has no option but to follow after.

They settle into a comfortable seat, with Kyuhyun putting their bag (or bags now, since they needed a new one just to accommodate all the things Zhou Mi bought on his shopping spree the previous day).

The sound of footfalls precede a low, throaty cough, and he looks up just in time to meet the eyes of an short, thin old lady, seemingly Asian in appearance.

She blinks once, then beams, and turns to Zhou Mi, studying him before repeating the same procedure. Caught off-guard, he gives her the most awkward smile possible in response.

“Are you chinese?” she asks suddenly, still standing and blinking once more at them, her thin voice floating in the air.

Zhou Mi’s smile transforms into a wide grin.

“I am so glad you’re Chinese,” quips Kyuhyun, watching with a grin as Zhou Mi helps the lady with her bags.

The old lady, they learn, is bright and sprightly and talks enough for all three of them. Mrs. Lee, she calls herself (“And I’m not revealing anymore!”), and launches into her life story, about how she came to Germany when she was thirteen and how she married another chinese and how difficult life was then and-

“Oh!” she interrupts herself, clapping her hands in dismay, “How terrible of me! I haven’t even asked you two your names yet,”

Zhou Mi, caught off-guard once again, sneaks a quick look at Kyuhyun. The other is much better at guarding his surprise, and wears a calm expression on his face as he says, “Yang Shien,” with the best Chinese he can muster.

That’s right, thinks Zhou Mi, the aliases we had decided on. (after that rather forgettable episode in Paris)

It had been another of Kyuhyun’s ideas, and Zhou Mi now admits that it wasn’t so bad an idea. “Song Liu,” he says, not missing a beat.

The woman eyes them curiously, and it’s then that Zhou Mi’s heart skips a beat –

“Somehow, you two look really familiar to me,”

His heart beat quickens. Could she have, by any chance, guessed their identities?

He glances at her, scared, his mouth hanging open but his brain unable to come up with an escape route. The freedom they just gained crashes in his eyes – no more holidays, no more escapades, back to their dreary lives –

“We’re-we're famous entrepreneurs in Korea,” says Kyuhyun quickly.

And at the same time the woman says, “Oh, I know, you two look just like my eldest son and his best friend!”

“Eldest son, huh?” asks Zhou Mi suddenly, breaking the silence, the tone of his pitch high, “So what does he do?”

“He’s dead,” she says, matter-of-fact. There's another period of stark silence, but it doesn't last too long. “Although – and get this,” she adds, her voice serious, “he was an entrepreneur too!”

And then she launches off into another tirade about the eldest son’s gold mining business in South Africa, and how poor thing, bless his soul, he died in a terrible car accident with aforementioned best friend, and as for the other son, he’s a banker in Paris, and in fact she was just returning home from a visit to his place –

“Wait what,” starts Zhou Mi suddenly, apologizing as he does for the interruption. “Going home? Do you mean,” – the realization dawns slowly – “this train goes to Germany?”

“Why yes, it does!” says Mrs. Lee, peering at him quizzically.

He stifles the loud groan that’s raring to come, just so he can sneak a look at Kyuhyun to see if his comprehension of chinese has reached that level yet, because if not he can just pretend not to have heard or said anything –

“Some gut instinct,” says Kyuhyun loudly, crossing his arms and leaning back into the seat and refusing to give Zhou Mi even a look.

Zhou Mi groans.

“Please, do go on,” he tells the old lady as obediently as he can.

The old lady is obviously amused when told the whole story. “Switzerland!” she laughs, shaking her head in delight.

“You know, you should leave the gut thing to us females,” she adds.

“But I did,” mumbles Kyuhyun under his breath in Korean.

“Anyway,” she continues, eyeing them inquisitively as Zhou Mi kicks Kyuhyun, “this means that you won’t be having any place to stay, right? How would you two like to come and stay in my house?”

“Oh,” speaks Kyuhyun for the first time, feeling the need to stop her, never mind his lack of Chinese skills, “We’ll find a place to stay, please don’t worry about us!”

“Yeah,” adds Zhou Mi, “we can cope,”

“I can see that,” she replies dryly. “But no, really,” she continues, the tone of her voice changing instantly, “I must insist!”

They stare at her.

“Come on,” She winks, “You can’t reject an old lady,”

“I love you for being Chinese,” says Kyuhyun as they board off the train, carrying their luggage.

Zhou Mi, carrying the lady’s luggage, pouts at him. “Is that the only reason?”

“Well, part of the reason,” admits Kyuhyun. “Though, did she say we had to pay her? If we pay then it’s not even part of the reason, I promise,”

He receives a well-aimed kick and hobbles around for the rest of the day.

* * *

The house they’re taken to is a small, comfortable house that reminds Zhou Mi of the one in the ginger bread story. Painted a creamy colour and with a well-built roof, it seems like the perfect house…

“Out in the country,” adds Mrs. Lee an hour into the drive.

So it’s out in the country, surrounded by green fields, and the nearest house is some five minutes away. The old lady professes that she likes the solitude – “My husband died ten years ago, and I’ve been living alone since then,” she tells them.

“I hope you don’t mind, do you?” she asks, looking apologetic.

Kyuhyun shakes his head, while Zhou Mi looks around, awed. “No,” he says slowly, “No, no, this is perfect!”

He gives the surprised Mrs. Lee an impromptu hug, and then quickly moves to the backyard.

“He’s a little bit… emotional,” says Kyuhyun apologetically, and the old lady laughs and nods her head, clearly delighted as she follows Zhou Mi.

Kyuhyun stands still as he reaches the yard, his jaw slackening. Sunlight beams through rows and rows of fruit laden apple trees. Zhou Mi, who is still awed, reaches out to pick the nearest apple.

“This is my only means of income,” explains the lady. “So you’ll be eating a lot of apple pie,”

They spend some time in the orchard picking fruits, as the lady tells her amusing anecdotes, and it’s only an hour later when evening has already fallen that she suddenly realizes that her guests may be tired.

Kyuhyun is taken to the older son’s room while Zhou Mi gets the younger one’s room. “They’re perfectly livable even though they haven’t been used since ten years,” she assures.

As the lady leaves to show Zhou Mi his room, Kyuhyun sits on the bed and looks around. It’s true, thinks Kyuhyun - there’s not a speck of dust on the sparse furniture in the room – a bed, a table and a closet – and the place is seemingly well kept.

The table attracts his attention, and putting his bag on the floor he quickly moves closer. A moment of curiosity, imagining how the lady’s son might have been, inspires him to pull the drawers.

There’s only a small black story book in it – Peter Pan – in Chinese.

Kyuhyun opens it, inhaling the musty scent of the paper, and starts to read.

About half an hour later, there’s a knock on the door, forcing him to slam the book shut quickly after only a page of comprehension and throw it back inside the drawer before he rushes to the door.

“What took you so long?” starts Zhou Mi as Kyuhyun opens the door. He has a coy smile plastered on his face with, Kyuhyun hopes, good reason, because he really can’t see the reason himself –

“Why are you wearing,” he swallows, “that?”

Zhou Mi, wearing a bright green shirt and the tightest pair of jeans Kyuhyun has ever come across in his lifetime, beams. “I found this in the closet in my room! It looks good on me, doesn’t it?”

Kyuhyun stares weakly for a moment, and then turns away. “Why-” he loses steam, shaking his head as he slumps on the bed.

Zhou Mi follows after, coming to stand still in front of him, his unapologetic grin still widening more. “Don’t you like it?” He asks slowly, fingering the belt loops musingly.

And then he bites his lip and looks at Kyuhyun with the same ludicrous slowness. “It’s really tight, though,” he practically breathes, “too tight-”

Kyuhyun pulls his arm roughly before he can get a chance to finish, lips pressing hotly, a hand already curling in his hair.

“Way to be subtle,” murmurs Kyuhyun, nipping at his neck.

“But it’s been days,” reasons Zhou Mi. “I’m really at my limit-“

Kyuhyun stops short, pulling away. “Wait,” he says, and ignoring Zhou Mi’s moan of protest, he makes his way to the bag forgotten on the floor. Unzipping it, he pulls out a familiar looking bottle.

Zhou Mi snorts, clearly delighted. “You brought lube?” he asks, sounding not-so-incredulous. He laughs even more as Kyuhyun markedly keeps his mouth shut, coming closer and closer to him. “You pervert-”

At that very opportune moment, a loud yell interrupts him, making them both jump. “Mr. Yang and Mr. Song, do you want dinner now?!”

They stare blankly at each other for a moment, and then start laughing.

* * *

The day and nights pass in a similar fashion. Mrs. Lee is a gentle soul, but her conscience cannot bear to see two young, able-bodied men lazing around, which results in a lot of work for the two of them. She helps as well, chattering along in her usual manner as she does, and soon she and Zhou Mi are best friends, with Kyuhyun the non-chinese relegated to a far-off corner.

Another special thing about her are her – and lunches and dinners too. They aren’t just limited to apple pies, but all sorts of food that the two have never tasted before.

It’s on that particular early morning, when Kyuhyun follows Zhou Mi to the kitchen fetched by the wonderful smell of baked muffins that she reminds them.

“So when are you two leaving for Switzerland?”

Kyuhyun starts; he’d actually forgotten about that, and so had Zhou Mi. But it’s true - it’s not like they could’ve stayed here forever.

All the same, he feels a pang of regret.

“We’ll be leaving tomorrow,” says Zhou Mi firmly for the two of them.

She eyes them sadly. “I’d have loved for you two to stay here,”

It’s good enough for Zhou Mi, who gets up and hugs her immediately. “But we’ve imposed on you for too long,” he breathes.

She nods in understanding, and Kyuhyun fights the urge to roll his eyes. “Where will you stay, though?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” starts Kyuhyun, “we’ll manage-“

But she already waves him off. “Nonsense,” she says, turning around to look for something, “I have a few contacts in Switzerland, they can help you. Now where did I keep my diary – ah! Here it is,”

She flips through a few pages and gets busy, as Zhou Mi gives Kyuhyun a short, watery smile.

Kyuhyun snorts and pats his head. “You’re in love, my dear boy,” he calls after.

Zhou Mi, however, is too busy hiding his tears in the day’s newspaper. Then he starts suddenly.

“Kyuhyun,” he says softly. He looks nervous as he puts the paper down for Kyuhyun to see, and then points to the bottom left corner.

Kyuhyun stares for a long moment, and then abruptly turns to Mrs. Lee.

“Mrs. Lee, can you translate this for us?”

Sensing the urgency in his voice, she puts her diary down. “Well, okay,” she says, a little bit surprised.

Putting on her glasses, she peers at the article closely. “Ah, yes – Two Members of Korean Super Band go missing – a Mr. Cho Kyuhyun and Mr. Zhou Mi of Korean band Super Junior had suddenly disappeared – ah, what’s with these disappearances lately! – two weeks ago. The police are still searching for them and fans-“

She stops suddenly as her eyes flicker over the inset picture.

Raising her eyes slowly, she looks at them.

“You aren’t Song Liu or Yang Shien, are you?” It’s more of a statement than a question.

Kyuhyun sighs.

* * *

They’ve arrived well in time for the train, giving enough space for tearful goodbyes –

“Take care,” says Mrs. Lee, embracing Zhou Mi.

Zhou Mi nods and sniffs. “You too,”

Kyuhyun shakes his head and mumbles something about not wanting to miss the train as he heads inside with a small ‘bye’ to Mrs. Lee. She looks at him and smiles, and then turns to Zhou Mi. “I hope you’ll take the right decision,” she says softly.

Zhou Mi sighs understandingly, but keeps mum, so she continues, “I know you’ll take the right decision.” Then she winks, “He’s with you after all,”

Zhou Mi stares at her for a moment, comprehension dawning slowly. “Wait – you don’t mean – how did you know?” he blubbers.

She gives him a meaningful smile. “I guessed – but my guesses are generally right,”

“Really?” asks a wide-eyed Zhou Mi.

“Of course not,” she laughs, shaking her small head. “I saw you two holding hands – and well, the other night, you two weren’t exactly quiet, and I may be getting old but-“

Zhou Mi cringes embarrassedly, bowing in apology, to which she laughs and pats him comfortingly. “Don’t you mind?” he asks, looking at her curiously.

She sighs, looking wistful. “I told you about my elder son and his best friend, right? Well,” she says, turning away to look at the train, “they were more than just best friends. They were in a relationship,”

“Of course,” she continues slowly, “When I found out, my husband and I staunchly opposed them. We disowned him… and only months later he died in that car accident.”

“I treated him horribly,” she says, turning abruptly to Zhou Mi, her eyes dark and firm, “but I’ve learnt my lesson now.”

They stay still for a moment, the breeze swirling coolly around their stationary bodies. The next moment, Zhou Mi has his arms wrapped tightly around the old lady.

“You’ll write to me, won’t you?” her words carry across to her, and he sighs.

“Yes,” he says, his eyes getting misty. “I will,”

* * *

The train wears a deserted look, which is good for the two of them. Kyuhyun takes to looking out of the window, while Zhou Mi stares fondly at the basket in his hand, a gift from Mrs. Lee.

Kyuhyun stares at the rows of fields in the distance, uniform and well-kept. It’s strange how it reminds him suddenly of – but then, he thinks, maybe it wasn’t that sudden. It’s been on his mind ever since that newspaper article…

“Hey,” he says suddenly, “do you think they miss us?”

He feels Zhou Mi’s eyes on him, but doesn’t turn to look back. Of course they do, Kyuhyun. Why wouldn’t they? Why do you ask? Do you want to go back? Or do you –

There’s a sudden flash of light, instantaneous, but Kyuhyun still catches it.

“Did you see that?” he asks Zhou Mi, who raises an eyebrow quizzically.

He opens his mouth to explain more, but then his eye catches the sudden movement, and he gets up immediately. “Shit,”

“What happened-“

“Quick, follow me!” he exclaims, and without saying anything else, he grabs their two bags and runs.

They move through the carriages quickly, and then suddenly Kyuhyun stops and gets inside the toilet, pulling Zhou Mi with him.

“Wha-what happened?!” starts Zhou Mi, quite out of breath and utterly confused.

“We’re being followed,” says Kyuhyun quietly, “by our fans, I think.”

“How do you know?” asks Zhou Mi, biting his lip as Kyuhyun gets to his knees and pulls the carefully kept wigs, hats and sunglasses out of the bag.

“They were taking our pictures,” replies Kyuhyun, putting on his blonde wig, “I might be wrong, but it’s better that we remain careful.”

He gets out of the toilet first, looking around. Thankfully, there’s no one in sight. He starts walking ahead toward the carriage.

He takes a seat at the window when he sees two girls, looking around frantically. They eye him suspiciously, not helped by the hat and sunglasses which fail in making him conspicuous, but then dismiss him as harmless and move on.

Zhou Mi joins him two minutes later with the bags.

“This is kind of scary,” he admits.

* * *

They’ve already settled in their hotel room arranged by Mrs. Lee’s contact and taken the benefit of room service when Zhou Mi breaks.

As beautiful as the surroundings are, the only thing that stays on his mind is the previous incident. The seeds of doubt that were sown back in Paris have already been deeply rooted in his mind. Yet, he wonders if he should voice them to Kyuhyun.

“I’m curious,” he starts instead, “how are they reacting to our disappearance?”

Kyuhyun acquiesces, and Zhou Mi suspects that maybe he too is breaking now. His mind throws back to when they first made those plans...

It was originally Kyuhyun's idea.

“Zhou Mi” he types an hour later into the search engine, sitting in the internet café of the hotel. Kyuhyun, who stands beside, starts as the search results come up.

“Woah,” he says, “they’ve gone crazy over our disappearance,” It’s to be expected though, he realizes slowly.

Zhou Mi looks over the results and clicks on a video link.

He starts in surprise. It’s a video of a press conference, and there are important people around, and there’s even the chairman of the company-

“-we don’t know where they are,” someone is saying, “but we’ve put all efforts into finding them. Until then, all Super Junior and Super Junior M activities have been suspended. Yes, authorities have been contacted-“

But Zhou Mi isn’t listening anymore. His eyes are glued to the back of the video, where he sees – Donghae, Ryeowook, Leeteuk, is that Kangin? And there’s Kibum as well –

And then he blinks.

It’s his parents.

There’s a strange feeling in his chest, one that maybe he could never explain. But as he sees his mother take out her handkerchief to wipe her eyes, tears spring up in his eyes as well.

The video goes on and on, but all he can hear is silence.

He closes his eyes, and the tears fall.

* * *

It’s midnight, and Kyuhyun can hear Zhou Mi’s snores. He turns to his side, unable to sleep, blinking at the moonlight that streams through the window.

He tries to remember Mrs. Lee face, or the face of that waiter, or the face of the tourist guide.

“Kui Xian, maybe we should go back,”

The Tuileries Gardens – Mrs. Lee’s orchard – Eiffel tower -

“Kui Xian, maybe we should go back,”

He sighs softly and closes his eyes. It's hopeless. All he can remember is the video, and his parents, and…

He opens his eyes, getting up very slowly and trying not to make a sound as he moves toward his bag. Slowly - very slowly - he pulls out that poster he’d kept so carelessly, stashed so hurriedly.

Super Junior

“Maybe we should’ve taken those credit cards,” he breathes to no one in particular.

Epilogue

The ride back home is strangely quiet. They still have the wigs on, and the car speeds on the road as Kyuhyun looks out, sees the familiar shops and signs and buildings.

He hears Zhou Mi move in his seat, and then there’s a hand holding his. And maybe the driver can see them, but he doesn’t really care. He squeezes the hand tight and smiles, smiles happily.

Back to the life they had.

They get off near the building. The elevator ascends, slowly, painfully slowly.

But then they’re there.

A slight moment of hesitation holds Kyuhyun’s hand in mid-air, wavering uncertainly, but there’s no need for Zhou Mi’s fingers to wrap so tightly around his.

He knocks the door.

Once, twice, thrice.

There’s the sound of footfalls. And then – and then, that familiar face.

* * *

“You selfish idiot, you fool, you complete and utter moron—“

“We missed you so, so much.”

The end of their freedom – the end of their escape – but no, neither Kyuhyun nor Zhou Mi regrets it.

---

NOTES:
1. a direct flight from seoul to paris takes 10-11 hours as per wiki - so that means that zhou mi wakes to the sight of paris at 10 am. now idk if he can sleep that much, and what the timings of the flight are so i've taken liberties with that. ***EDIT: as cutepear points out, and i quote, "it might be 10am in seoul but due to the time difference between asia and europe it's 2am in paris", that part...is utter bs. but er, changing the part would mean rewriting the entire part, and um. see, this is why i realy need a beta D:
2. i've never been to paris (or germany, or switzerland). this is based on everything i've gathered from wikitravel.
3. please do not follow qmi's example and play around in the cafe as they did. er, i don't really think many parisian waiters would have allowed that.
4. they travel using the eurail pass, if you want to know, and i've written their train journeys to the best of my abilities, with as much research as possible. still, there's thing called geography which i utterly fail at, so if you see something that doesn't make sense, feel free to point it out to me and i'll correct it (or apologize. whichever is easier.)
5. the names yang shien and song liu have been taken from a chinese ghost story (which was adapted to english). yeah um ._.

inspired mostly by that episode where the members of big bang revealed that they had planned to escape together or sth... and augh, finally completed it. there are parts which i like, and parts which i hate, and parts which are just lame :( the ending was rather abrupt, i admit, since i kind of lost interest.

[Yesung/Ryeowook] The Rose

Wed, 21 Oct 2009 07:24:42 GMT

Title: The Rose
Rating: G
Summary: The plant is a metaphor of their love.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.

It’s neither beautiful nor ugly. It's nothing spectacular actually; just a green shoot reaching upward, peeking through the edges of the beautiful flower pot for a glimpse of sunshine.

It’s still young, says the single line written in his cursive, smack in the middle of the white paper stained with coffee and the smell of his favourite perfume. Give it time.

His lips curve into a smile and he imagines their fingers entwining perfectly, as they were meant to be. “Yesung,” he breathes, and softly touches the letter with his lips.

He sees it weeks later, his feet stopping in their hurry as he catches sight of the single rose bud standing lonely and yet proud among the fresh green leaves. Then three days later, there’s another bud to give it company, tinier and much more shy, but young and full of joy.

It’s a day he can never forget, and even now, when he sits on the floor and moves his hand around absently in the air, he can feel those lips on his own.

The morning the bud opens up, rain lashes through and the window that protects the young plant from the unruly wind is wet with tears. The thunder is unforgiving, and yet in the midst of all the chaos stands the rose, coloured in a beautiful shade of pink.

He breathes hard, his admiration mingling with curiosity as his hands reach up to pluck the flower out. His fingers retreat immediately, and he bites his lip to stop the moan from coming out.

The thorn is tinged with fresh blood.

The letter comes later that evening, when the clouds are tired and the sky is a pale haze of yellow, and he drops to his knees and cries until the tears refuse to come at all.

The other bud wilts away soon, its suffering clear in the drained look it wears. The leaves fall, one by one, and the stem weakens. He looks at it everyday, and his heart aches more and more with every glance, until it’s too painful to bear. Hands forcefully tug at the plant, uprooting it from the firm brown earth and throwing it away, out of the window, into nothingness.

Sorry, say the cold and dreary words of someone he doesn't know, written abruptly on a piece of paper as harsh and unfamiliar as the snow, he died yesterday.

---

I remember reading this beautiful children's story about a young boy and the tree outside his window, and how their lives interwine. Each day a leaf falls, and the boy grows sicker and sicker, until there's only one leaf left. He's certain that his death is near, and so stops looking outside the window.

But the leaf doesn't seem to fall for days, and his health keeps getting better. Then one day he brings up the courage to look outside, and to his surprise he sees that the leaf has already fallen. He laughs off his fears and decides to stop believing in such things.

The next day, the boy dies.

...or something, i don't exactly remember. I really want to write a similar story someday! But for now, you'll have to do with this drabble :)

[Nicole/Amber/f(x)] The Cat's Stuck

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 14:06:16 GMT

Title: The Cat's Stuck
Rating: G
Summary: Nicole and the girls of f(x) set out to do a good deed.
Disclaimer: f(x)/KARA does not belong to me.

“Unni!” cries Amber over the cellphone, and Nicole chokes back a laugh just in time.

She settles for a suspicious cough instead. “Weren’t you, like, supposed to be manly or something? You should call me noona instead,” she adds jokingly.

“Unni, this isn’t the time for jokes!”

For the first time in their thirty second conversation, Nicole notices Amber’s breathlessness. “What’s wrong?” she follows up gently, switching to English, the language she knows Amber would be more comfortable in.

There’s an audible sigh on the other end, and Nicole can hear the faint sounds of the other members in the background.

“Unni,” says Amber nervously, “there’s a cat stuck in a tree!”

She grits her teeth and pulls away from the phone as the sound of laughter fills her ears.

* * *

“This is a problem,” says Nicole two hours later, holding a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she peers at the cat.

“Wouldn’t you know,” says Amber disparagingly, still obviously stung by Nicole’s previous reaction.

Nicole reaches out a hand to pat her on the head. “And the cat’s cute, by the way,” she adds truthfully, for the cat is black and small and has gorgeous eyes. “Who does it belong to?”

“We really don’t know,” chips in Sulli, who’s lounging in the back and making gooey eyes at the cat. “I open the window for some fresh breeze,” here she gives Amber a meaningful look, “And the first thing I see is the cat staring back at me from the branch of a really old tree,”

“Guys, help us get this cat down!” screams Luna, dancing frantically near the tree. The cat shivers in fright and move further down the branch, earning Luna a kick from Victoria as she continues to coo at the cat.

Nicole skips to the two of them. “Maybe I should do the butt dance; do you think that will help?”

“No!” scream Luna and Victoria at once, and the cat gives a frightened mewl.

* * *

They get Amber to climb up the tree.

“Why me?” howls Amber in despair, glaring at the four of them.

“Because you’re the guy!” says Nicole, with Sulli nodding in agreement.

“I am not a guy!” screams Amber for what is probably the fiftieth time in her life as an idol, even as Victoria encouragingly (and forcefully) tugs her to the tree. She does it anyway – “I’m too nice,” she adds – and her hands grip at the trunk when she experiences the first pang of fear.

“Do you know how to climb a tree?” whispers Victoria, her voice almost unheard over the loud cheers of the others.

“Of course I do,” Amber blubbers, her voice deepening reflexively. “Of course,”

Fuck, where do the legs go, she wonders.

* * *

“Amber, not there, not there!”

“Be careful, you idiot!”

“You’re scaring the cat!”

“DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW TO CLIMB A TREE?”

“SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU!” roars Amber.

The cat gives a very loud mewl as she runs across the branch, feet lightly padding on the top of Amber’s head and then all over her body before she lands on the ground and scampers away.

A long moan escapes Amber’s lips. “Now how do I get down?”

* * *

“Where’s Krystal by the way?” asks Victoria some ten minutes later, pulling her eyes away quite unwillingly from the very fun scene ahead of her – Amber’s legs are dangling, her screams quite unmanly, with Nicole torn between laughter and helplessness and Luna doesn’t even bother to pretend –

Sulli tears away her eyes from the scene almost as unwillingly, and points to a dark corner where Krystal sits, hugging her knees, a dark look on her face as she faintly mumbles “cats…don’t like them…”.

“At last,” says Victoria, a satisfied grin on her face, “something we can blackmail her with.”

(“But she has Jessica on speed dial,” says Amber when she's finally on ground. “We'd be dead if we even tried.”

“You're just saying this because you like her, don't you?” says Nicole, annoyed, crossing her arms and stalking away. Amber gives a depressed look and follows after, her pleas reaching almost everyone in the vicinity.

“Ah, young love,” snickers Sulli. The other two eye her and she only rolls her eyes and exclaims “What?!” before running after Amber.)

---

IDEK.

[Kibum/Donghae] First Love

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 06:24:06 GMT

Title: First Love
Rating: G
Summary: Donghae is fourteen when he first falls in love.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.
Notes: AU, and the ages have been fucked up badly.

My first ever love was the guy who lived next door to me

Donghae has his bag slung over his shoulder and is huffing at the top step of the staircase when he first sees the man.

He’s tall, and pale, and thin, and probably a good six or seven years older than Donghae. He’s handsome and seemingly masculine, and wears thick black glasses, which is the last Donghae sees before the door shuts.

Donghae falls in love then.

Kim Kibum is the name he gleans from his visit to the talkative old lady next door. A college student, she clucks approvingly, majoring in math (how she comes to know this is a mystery, and she never reveals her source), and Donghae tunes out the rest of her talk as he looks out of the window and catches Kibum walking across the road, his books held tightly to his chest.

He had the nicest smile I’d ever seen

It’s not so much a ritual as Donghae begging his parents to let him take their new neighbour “something, wouldn’t it be nice?” Thankfully for him, his parents aren’t suspicious, only slightly amused and very proud at this sudden transformation in their son.

His mother bakes a small cake, and he takes only ten steps from the kitchen when he’s at the doorstep of the new neighbour. A sudden, inevitable moment of hesitation seizes him, but he courageously goes on to press the doorbell.

Still, the door opens way too soon for his liking.

“Yes?” starts a deep voice – his voice – as thick glasses peer out, and Donghae doesn’t fail to notice how messed up Kibum’s hair is, and how much more attractive it makes him look.

“Sorry to have disturbed you,” squeaks Donghae, face flushing slightly, “But would you like to have some cake my mom baked?” He feels nervous under Kibum’s unnerving stare.

“Sure,” says Kibum finally, and Donghae inwardly sighs in relief, his face relaxing into a grin.

Kibum wears a matching smile, which widens even more when Donghae readily accepts the invitation to help him finish the cake.

He was the perfect guy for me

One of the best things about having Kibum as a neighbour, Donghae has to admit, is that now he can easily get his math homework done. It also serves as a pretext to spend more time with him, and Donghae even manages to score some tutoring lessons after getting a zero on his latest math test.

Kibum, he can tell, is more or less faintly amused and slightly exasperated with him, and definitely happier than his normal self when Donghae’s around. It makes his heart beat figuratively faster – maybe he does have a chance.

Or so he thinks. It’s not until the day that Kibum turns up an hour late for their tuition that Donghae realizes how wrong he is.

Donghae is loitering in the corridor outside Kibum’s closed door, wondering what to do, when he hears the sound of footfalls coming and looks up. It’s Kibum, decked in formal wear for once, his face just slightly reddened – and looking fantastic.

He doesn’t seem to have realized the effect he has on Donghae. “I’m sorry!” he bursts only a moment later, noticing Donghae’s slack jaw, realization dawning on him, “I-I forgot about – I didn’t realize –”

Breaking off his sentence abruptly, he takes a few steps and sits on the floor, leaning against the door of his apartment and looking more flushed than ever. “Donghae, I –”

“I’m,” he pauses for a moment, eyes poring into Donghae’s, searching for the trust he needs to give.

He finds it. “I’m in love,” he announces suddenly, and Donghae can see the multitude of emotions flickering across Kibum’s face in that very instant, before he turns to him and smiles weakly. “Don’t you think I’m pathetic?”

Donghae shakes his head dumbly in answer, and mumbles something about homework before turning on his heels and leaving Kibum there, with his back against the door and his face in his hands, in love with someone who’s not Donghae.

But maybe I was never meant for him

He makes up his mind the night before summer vacation starts.

This time there’s not even a moment of hesitation when he rings the bell. The door opens, and Kibum wears an expression of pure surprise on seeing Donghae so late in the night.

Not that Donghae wastes any time, his arms coming quickly to wrap around Kibum’s waist. It feels nice and warm and comforting and unfamiliar.

He doesn’t waste any time in saying those words either.

He was my first ever love

Donghae lies in his room for hours, staring at the ceiling, ignoring his mother’s call for dinner, his father’s knocking on the door, the sound of his phone ringing incessantly.

It’s almost eleven in the night when there’s the blaring of a horn – and he doesn’t want to, but he goes anyway to the window and stares outside.

Kibum, dressed in the same suit as the other day, walks across to the black SUV. The door of the car opens, and Donghae catches a glimpse of long legs and a pretty face before the door shuts with Kibum inside, and the car speeds away.

He remembers the last time he saw Kibum’s smile, and somehow his eyes turn red and puffy, and even though he rubs them thrice everything looks so hazy and unclear.

Kibum never comes back.

Then one day the door next to my house opened once more

A few months shy of the day which marks the anniversary of Kibum’s parting, Donghae is once again huffing on the top of the stair case, still unable to fight off his phobia of elevators.

It’s then that he sees the kid - not more than a few months older than him, and tall and gangly in appearance. The kid smiles widely, revealing the green braces that frame his teeth in their full glory.

"Hi! I'm Eunhyuk," he says.

And I fell in love again

---

dies i come back from my trip and the first thing i do (at 12 AM in the night) is write this ;_;

to all the people who will scream "characterization!" at me --- these are just an old man's views on puppy love, now. :also brings out the leave-me-alone-it's-only-au excuse:

[yesung/ryeowook] horizon

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 17:45:09 GMT

Title: Horizon
Rating: G
Summary: Yesung is a traveler.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.

The sky is the paper, and splattered on this huge canvas are splotches of dark blue, interweaving with the nothingness of black. Small white dots scatter unevenly across this canvas which stretches until the horizon, where it meets the dusty brown earth. The line between the two is blurry and almost undistinguishable, and Yesung runs forward to ensure that there is, in fact, a line, but with each step he takes the line moves farther and farther away.

His steps move faster and faster until he’s actually running, each stride promising to take him toward the end but leaving him only further behind. Yet he runs, and runs, and runs – through summer and winter, day and night, fields rich with holly and miles of wasteland, never-ending paths, dusty roads, coarse gravel; and rarely does he meet a fellow traveler, but he never stops – he only keeps on running.

And then one day, before the sun rises to signal the awakening of day, he hears a soft, slow sound. The sound seems to rise up and down in pitch, curving words he’s only ever spoken of into unknown melodies, quite unlike anything he’s ever heard.

He stops in his tracks, the horizon forgotten, and turns instead to the place where he hears the sound come from. He walks, and walks, and walks, until he sees a cherry blossom tree.

There, under the shade of the large tree, lies a boy. His skin is paler than the palest that Yesung’s ever seen, his eyes smaller than almonds, and his wrists are as thin as the gnarled roots of the tree under which he sits.

The boy smiles serenely as he looks at Yesung, keeps on looking, and it’s no more than childish curiosity which pulls Yesung to the boy.

“What,” he asks, unhesitant, “are you saying?”

His laughter is like the soft tinkling of bells in the wind. “I’m not saying anything.” His voice is like a slight breeze, almost unheard.

“It’s a song,”

Then the boy speaks – sings again, and Yesung closes his eyes and pretends to understand, and somewhere down the line he’s forgotten about the line between the sky and the earth, about the day and night and winter and summer, about the smell of the dust as it mingles with rain, and instead he learns about the words that make up sound and the music that the birds and the bees and the little insects he’s trampled on hum and the slight monotone he hears wherever he goes.

Yesung opens his eyes and then there’s no more.

---

i honestly have no idea why i wrote this.

[kyuhyun/sungmin/zhou mi] trust and other issues + [kyuhyun/zhou mi] untitled

Wed, 14 Oct 2009 18:28:23 GMT

Title: Trust and Other Issues
Rating: PG
Summary: Kyuhyun comes back from China, only to find that he has a lot of convincing to do.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.

It all starts the day when Kyuhyun comes back home from China, trolley in hand, kicking the door open in all eagerness. He gets the grand welcome he's waited for – there's an armful of Leeteuk and Eunhyuk to handle, with Shindong keeping his distance until more space opens up for him – but there’s still something missing.

There’s not an inch of pink in sight (not counting Eunhyuk's Hello Kitty shirt, of course).

“Oh, by the way,” says Eunhyuk, reading his mind, “It would be better if you stayed out of Sungmin’s way.”

Seeing Kyuhyun’s bemused look, he sighs. “The fan service, Zhou Mi, did you forget?” He jerks his head towards the aforementioned member.

The tall man stares around wide-eyed at the mention of his name and Kyuhyun smacks his own forehead in despair.

* * *

“I swear, Sungmin, I hardly even touched that guy,” Kyuhyun laments at the other side of the room where a thick canopy of bed sheets faces him. There’s an audible, although largely muffled snort from the inside of this canopy – lit up by an oil lamp that helps Kyuhyun distinguish Sungmin’s shadow, never mind his fears of waking up one day to a fire in their room (still, he keeps a fire extinguisher close by, just in case).

“Kyuhyun,” starts Sungmin’s voice, and Kyuhyun jumps hopefully. This is the first time he’s actually been addressed in what seems like ages. “Do you remember the fanservice we-.” he pointedly emphasizes the word, “used to do?”

“Um,” says Kyuhyun, debating the answer in his mind. “Yeah, maybe, why do you ask?”

“And what did that lead to?”

There’s a moment of silence where Kyuhyun contemplates. “Pass.”

“Our relationship, you idiot!”

Oh, yeah. Then it dawns on Kyuhyun; the point Sungmin’s trying to get across.

“Sungmin, you can’t be serious!” he sputters immediately, “If everyone doing fanservice became couples, then the entire Korean entertainment industry would be gay!”

“And no, the entire Korean entertainment industry is not gay,” he adds a second later.

“Uh-huh,” says Sungmin, and Kyuhyun can see his outline shifting.

“Zhou Mi is chinese, anyway,” he tries as a last, desperate resort.

* * *

“What is Sungmin hyung’s problem?” Zhou Mi cries on their plane back to China. "I've tried everything - shopping offers, ice cream treats, even bribes, but he won't budge at all!"

Kyuhyun’s been expecting the question for ages, really, given obvious instances of Sungmin’s cold treatment towards the former, but he still can’t come up with a good enough explanation.

“Not everyone’s supposed to like you,” he offers lamely.

Zhou Mi snorts, and holds up his fingers. “Heechul,” he counts, “Jessica, both Kibums,” He gives Kyuhyun a pointed look. “Lee Soo Man called me on my birthday.”

“He called me on my birthday too,”

“To tell you that he was putting you in Super Junior, what – five years ago,”

“Three,” says Kyuhyun, leaning back in his seat with a groan.

“I haven’t gotten an answer yet, Kui Xian,” says Zhou Mi, staring at him worriedly with those beady eyes of his.

He can’t do anything but sigh and give up. “He’s jealous,” he says, staring out of the window.

“What?”

“He’s jealous of you and me – of us,” he adds, seeing the look of incredulity on Zhou Mi’s face. He nods as he sees the realization finally dawn, and grabs fistfuls of candy from the airhostess.

* * *

Thankfully, the promotions for separate sub-groups end and preparations for the group, as a whole start. An album – the last album, maybe, are the whispers, but Kyuhyun staunchly refuses to believe them.

It also means that Kyuhyun and Sungmin are forced to spend more time together, as if they aren’t already rooming together, and the magnae is glad to see that chip by chip, the wall Sungmin’s created between them breaks down, until one fine day he actually catches Sungmin grinning in his presence.

Never mind that Sungmin resumes his stoic expression once he notices Kyuhyun’s stare.

It’s a matter of perseverance then, when recording starts, because Sungmin’s got a lot of parts in most of the songs, and more often than not they’re forced together.

On that particular day, they’ve just finished recording for What If, and Yesung and Ryeowook take advantage of the manager’s distraction to sneak off to some place, which has the manager fuming before he sets off to find out ‘just what those two are up to’.

Kyuhyun and Sungmin are way too busy avoiding each other to warn the manager.

“So,” says Kyuhyun conversationally, after an awkward stretch of silence. “Are you still mad at me?”

Sungmin gives an audible humph, crosses his arms, and turns so that his back faces Kyuhyun.

“Sungmin, it’s been two months,” says Kyuhyun unhappily, getting up from his place. He hesitates a moment before putting a hand on the other’s shoulder. “I’ve told you that there’s nothing between me and Zhou Mi,”

He walks around and stands in front of Sungmin, then drops to his knees. “How do I prove it to you?” He asks earnestly, his eyes searching.

They end up with Sungmin’s pants half-ripped, the manager red-faced before he breaks down – “Too much to handle in one day,” Ryeowook tells them – and a mended relationship in addition to resolved sexual tension.

* * *

Sungmin looks around at the audience, a half-hearted glance in Zhou Mi’s direction before he looks away. Then he builds up the courage and tries again, directly looking at Zhou Mi this time.

He swallows, then – “You know, I think the reason the air stinks around here is because of Eunhyuk.”

Zhou Mi’s mouth forms a comical ‘O’, and he mumbles, “Uh huh,” in a stricken tone, blinking at Sungmin.

“Oh,” he adds a few beats later. He starts guffawing, albeit a bit nervously, while Eunhyuk turns around to glare at the two of them, and Sungmin laughs along.

Sungmin finds a pair of eyes on him, and turns to see Kyuhyun looking at him. Caught, the younger man blinks and looks around, pretending to stare at Kim Tae Woo instead, before he turns back to the audience and gives way to a grin, safe in the assurance that Sungmin won’t be able to spot it.

Sungmin, on the other hand, rolls his eyes and smiles.

* * *

“So does he suspect anymore?” asks Zhou Mi, panting heavily, fingers ready to tug down Kyuhyun’s pants.

“I think you saw that for yourself,” Kyuhyun grins in the dark.

---

written impromptu, inspired by proof that my ot3 exists and completely based on this fancam. ~~unedited :(~~

Title: Untitled
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Where Zhou Mi isn't as nice as he seems.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.

Kyuhyun is pushed against the wall roughly, and he's definitely protesting this change in position when there's a trail of hot kisses down his neck and a slight nip, just there, and he's kind of lost his train of thought and what was he saying anyway?

Zhou Mi effectively silences his vague blubbering with a passionate kiss that's long gone before he actually manages to open his mouth, but he misses his chance to voice his protest once again when there's a tongue travelling leisurely around the length of his base.

So he's back to all the incoherent mumbling - only interrupted by a long moan as Zhou Mi takes all of him in his mouth. There's a sharp intake of breath, and then another moan, and Kyuhyun finds enough will power to clutch at tufts of Zhou Mi's hair and drag him away.

"Why the fuck did you-"

"Just bite?" finishes Zhou Mi, his grin widening more to reveal a hint of teeth.

He snickers, and adds, "Revenge, Kui Xian," and there's a slight nip at the base and Kui Xian doesn't even remember what he did to deserve this but he almost breaks down while swearing never to cross the line - whatever that line was - again.

---

based on this, and obviously zhou mi is going to demand angry!sex later or sth - although this is kind of ooc in the fact that zhou mi def would not want to 'damage' kyuhyun ;; (i'm sorry zhou mi, but i laughed too)

[Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi] Of unrequited crushes and mysterious friends

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 05:46:30 GMT

Title: Of Unrequited Crushes and Mysterious Friends
Rating: G
Summary: Zhou Mi finds himself a mystery friend.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.

It’s yet another day of college – or it would have been, except that for the first time in their admittedly short relationship as roommates, Zhou Mi actually sums up the courage to ask Heechul for that pair of jeans he’s been eyeing since forever.

To his credit, Heechul does recognize the importance of the occasion and promptly raises an eyebrow. Well, Heechul should know; they’ve been childhood best friends ever since Hangeng and Zhou Mi moved to the same neighborhood as Heechul.

So the dryness in his voice is apparent as he fixes his hair and reminds Zhou Mi, “Didn’t we just go shopping yesterday?”

“But,” says Zhou Mi, pouting slightly, “Those jeans – they look so good on you, and then I figured, maybe they’d look decent on me too? Well, why not give it a try at least-”

Being friends since forever has Zhou Mi the advantage of knowing all of Heechul’s traits. Flattery, for example, melts Heechul like butter. “Fine,” says the guy, throwing the clothes at Zhou Mi after a few moments of pretend hesitation, “Have them, but I hope they don’t fit you.”

“And by the way, flattery isn’t always going to work on me.” He adds.

Zhou Mi laughs out loud.

“No, but, really,” muses Heechul after a moment of silence wherein he flicks back locks of hair and appraises himself in the mirror while Zhou Mi contemplates the colour of the jeans, “What’s with this sudden change of policy?”

Zhou Mi cocks an eyebrow in confusion, prompting Heechul to add, “I thought you only wore your own clothes-”

Zhou Mi bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling. “Change,” is his monosyllabic response before he shuts himself in the bathroom.

He knows better than to tell Heechul the truth of course – because Heechul knowing would mean the entire world knowing.

And Zhou Mi sure as hell does not want the world knowing about the tiny, tiny crush that he on this guy – this guy who he sits next to in all the three classes they share; the guy with the short brown hair and flawless skin and thin bony hands and awkward smile; the guy who makes fun of all the professors and throws paper planes in class and doodles all over the margins of Zhou Mi’s notebook and still gets every single answer right.

The guy, Kyuhyun, he has a not-so-big crush on.

But trust Heechul to be suspicious still – he’s probably caught the faint blush on Zhou Mi’s face. As Zhou Mi steps out of the bathroom gingerly, smoothing over the creases on his jeans before blinking at Heechul for an opinion, the latter only crosses his arms and eyes him suspiciously.

“You’re hiding something from me,” he states.

Zhou Mi cringes inwardly, huffs and pretends to not have heard the statement, instead crying, “But how do I look?” Distraction tactics.

“Good,” mumbles Heechul, and Zhou Mi’s plan has clearly not worked. Distraction tactics, they don’t work on Heechul when he’s onto something – Zhou Mi should have known.

“Something is afoot,” continues Heechul, slinging his bag over his shoulder, “and I will get to the bottom of it – mark my words.”

Zhou Mi sticks out his tongue and hopes his nerves don’t show. “Good luck, detective,” he says, flashing his usual disarming smile.

Too bad the smile doesn’t make its permanent residence.

* * *

He struts into class, beaming, with Heechul’s jeans on full show, and makes his way to his seat. That’s when he realizes with a start that his seat’s been taken.

The one beside Kyuhyun, his seat, is now occupied by some girl with heavy make-up - quiet obviously flirting with him. Zhou Mi glares at her, but she doesn’t seem to realize it, flicking her hair airily as she yaps on and on, and okay, it isn’t his seat per se but that doesn’t mean –

Zhou Mi pouts as he passes Kyuhyun, only slightly mollified by the smile they share.

“Who is she and what is she doing with Kyuhyun?” He asks sullenly, dropping into the empty seat next to his friend Henry.

“Ohoho, dumped, are you?” starts the kid good-naturedly. “Look who’s blessed us with his presence!” He announces to the rest of his friends, and Zhou Mi rolls his eyes.

“I see you all in the other classes,” he sulks. “Now, give me the details,”

“Sooyoung,” beams Henry, noticing the look on Zhou Mi’s face. “Hot, isn’t she? I wonder why all the pretty girls go for that obnoxious guy, though. I mean, aren’t I good looking enough?”

Zhou Mi snorts, eyes on the two who are now laughing pleasantly – Kyuhyun’s told one of his horrible unfunny jokes, no doubt – “Grow some balls, kid, then we’ll talk.”

He should be the one there, laughing and telling Kyuhyun how horrible he finds the joke, but laughing anyway. He feels Henry’s stare on him, and miserably tears his gaze away to turn to Henry. “What?”

Henry’s eyes widen, and he turns to Ryeowook who is unfortunate enough to be sitting right next to him. “I think Zhou Mi just insulted me!”

“I heard that,” Ryeowook shoots at Zhou Mi, then pats his other friend gently and nods. “Don’t worry, you’ll grow balls soon,” he reassures.

“No, look,” says Zhou Mi, biting his lower lip as his gaze turns back to the two of them, the grip on his pen tightening as he sees Sooyoung inch closer to Kyuhyun, “That,” he points at Kyuhyun, “is my territory.”

“Jesus Christ, to think that there would come a day when I was actually terrified of Zhou Mi,” Henry announces, shifting away ever so slightly.

Zhou Mi sighs; it’s funny the way small things can rile up his passion so much. He looks up just in time to see Professor Kangin come in, and thanks him for the interruption at the appropriate time, noticing with pleasure as Kyuhyun and Sooyoung break apart. The pleasure disappears soon, though, as the professor starts his discourse on something.

One more reason for missing Kyuhyun.

Zhou Mi sighs and closes his eyes as he rests his chin on the desk, ignoring the professor’s words wafting through and the incessant pokes of Henry as fingers absently scratch against the edge of the desk. He doesn’t mean to be so irrationally jealous – like a high school girl, his conscience scoffs – and yet, he’s sure he’s never actually been so.

It’s only Kyuhyun – and his words and actions and quirks and everything – that make him so.

Zhou Mi sighs once more and opens his eyes – maybe this really isn’t just a crush.

It’s at that moment that his eyes catch the scrawling on the desk. He can make out a messy and rough sketch, and he lifts his head up in order to get the full picture.

There’s a crudely drawn egg-like face and square glasses, with an arrow pointed at the head, and written in scraggly handwriting that has Zhou Mi staring hard is Professor Kangin.

Zhou Mi snorts loudly.

Fifty pairs of eyes fall on him, and the professor raises an eyebrow questioningly. Zhou Mi bites his lip, blushing hard – he sees Kyuhyun staring at him out of the corner of his eye – and quickly says, “It was nothing. Nothing, really.” He sees Henry tilting his head questioningly out of the corner of his eyes, so he only shakes his head and mouths and “I’ll tell you later.” Henry blinks once, then nods and turns away.

It’s a good thing that professor Kangin doesn’t seem to be in the mood today (rumour has it that he has ‘sessions’ with professor Leeteuk, which may explain the lethargy with which he teaches classes the next day).

Zhou Mi stifles his snort this time, and wonders at this impressively realistic rendition of their math professor. He does find it somewhat childish, and yet, this is his brand of humour, and he definitely appreciates it.

A sudden inspiration strikes him, and he fishes his pen out, drawing Professor Leeteuk underneath – admittedly not a very good drawing, so he writes the name underneath just in case – following it with a heart around the two figures.

Henry rolls his eyes when Zhou Mi tells him about it later. “What are you, five?” He asks, and Zhou Mi ignores that and promises to show him the drawing the next day.

* * *

Except that the next morning, he has all but forgotten about doodles and stupid things and such, panting heavily as he rushes through the hall to his class and seething Heechul all the while.

Professor Kangin gives him a disparaging look, and Zhou Mi braces himself for a verbal attack.

But it never comes. The professor just mutters a “get in” and turns back to the board, and Zhou Mi eyes him curiously, wondering if the rumours are true and if that’s a reason for Kangin’s weary mood today also.

Never mind that; he smiles widely in victory.

Which soon falters – and he guesses he probably should have seen that coming – stopping in his tracks as he sees his seat occupied once more. This time the two are openly staring at him, and Zhou Mi prefers to ignore Sooyoung’s stare, instead sparing a short smile for Kyuhyun that soon changes into a pout as the other laughs at him and playfully slaps his shoulder.

He drops his bag next to Henry with a sigh, ignoring the look that he gets, and slumps next to him tiredly.

“Get off me you moron, the professor will see us!” hisses Henry.

Zhou Mi closes his eyes and exhales. “No, he won’t.”

He wonders if Henry’s looking at him pityingly right now. He hears a sigh, then – “So I think you were going to show me this really good caricature-”

He trails off as Zhou Mi starts and gets up suddenly, then grins at him and proceeds to peer at the desk.

And Henry wonders if it’s even possible for someone’s grin to widen so much. “Weren’t you down, like, five seconds ago?” He ventures to ask.

In reply, Zhou Mi only pulls at his sleeve excitedly and then points at the desk.

On the desk is written in the same scraggly handwriting,

Good, you have talent :)

Ignoring the snigger of “someone’s blind”, Zhou Mi beams and bows to no one in particular. He then squints harder at the words written below as he bats away Henry’s face leaning in curiously.

By the way, I can draw Professor Yesung too.

Even Henry, though half-heartedly, joins in the giggling. The drawing is detailed – there’s the trademark dangling earrings and jewelry, and even the ridiculously drawn hair which is just as bad as the real one.

“What are you two laughing at?” asks Ryeowook, peering interestingly, and although Henry tries to pry him away – “You won’t like it,” and this is true, as Ryeowook idolizes Professor Yesung – Ryeowook demands to get to the bottom of it, and Henry resignedly tells him the whole story.

Meanwhile, Zhou Mi nods appreciatively, writing Good Job! underneath the drawing, and then taps the pen absently on the desk while contemplating what more to add.

* * *

No wonder Heechul comes to know of it. Ryeowook probably told Sungmin who probably told Eunhyuk who probably told Donghae who always tells every little thing to Heechul, so it’s not that much of a surprise when Heechul calls him on it later that day while they’re lying on their beds doing nothing.

“So I heard about this mystery friend of yours,” says Heechul without any preamble, waggling his eyebrows. Zhou Mi rolls his eyes and smiles anyway, stretching his hands.

“His sketches are really good, hyung,” he says.

“I heard,” replies Heechul, eyes twinkling mischievously. “So do you know who he is yet?”

Typical Heechul. Zhou Mi debates whether to tell him how he’s in two minds about this one – how he’d love to know who the guy is, and yet, how he’d rather the mystery remains the way it is; that the person revealing themselves would mean that he would have to reveal himself to them as well, and so much could go wrong with that.

Heechul solves the problem by breaking the silence. “If I were you, I’d try finding out who they are,” he says, and Zhou Mi can’t help but roll his eyes and reply, “That’s the basic difference between you and me.”

They both laugh then, but it’s obvious that Heechul is serious. “I could do some snooping – well, have someone do the snooping for you,” he offers.

“Thanks, but I’d rather not,” says Zhou Mi, smiling gratefully.

“Well, you never know, it could be your crush.”

“It’s not him, I know that for a fact,” supplies Zhou Mi ruefully. And then he realizes – “Wait, uh-”

He catches the grin on Heechul’s face and hangs his head in defeat. “That was totally unfair!” He cries, but Heechul only tuts gleefully.

“I was right,” he says, “You do have a crush on someone! Hangeng owes me a thousand won, now,”

Zhou Mi gapes. “You two were betting on my love life?”

“I like the way you put it,” snorts Heechul, “And just so you know, it was Hangeng who wouldn’t believe me and wanted to bet on it.”

Zhou Mi shakes his head slowly in disbelief, even as his best friend of ten years pats him on the head and then prances toward his cellphone to crow over his other best friend.

* * *

Speaking of crushes, the next day when Zhou Mi comes in prepared to act all unbothered, he actually stops in his tracks for a different reason altogether.

“Hi,” says Kyuhyun, ready with that short smile of his, the seat next to his empty. Zhou Mi stares at him quizzically, then looks around and catches Sooyoung sitting in the corner, animatedly chatting with her friends.

Kyuhyun follows his line of sight and laughs. “I turned her down,” he says slowly, eyes meeting Zhou Mi’s. “She’s really nice and all, but not my type, you know-”

He trails off, and they stare at each other, smiles unfolding slowly, and Zhou Mi feels as if there’s a load off his chest.

“So,” starts Kyuhyun, and Zhou Mi guesses what’s about to come. His heart flutters; he’s happy, and yet –

“I have to – I have to go,” Zhou Mi says suddenly, words coming out before he has time to think. A part of his mind screams at him for squandering this chance, but there’s this other smaller but marginally stronger part that feels just slightly bitter.

Kyuhyun nods just slightly, and Zhou Mi takes it and steps forward. He’s gone ahead a few steps before he stops, and turns back, eyes resting on the back of Kyuhyun’s head.

He blinks and moves forward as if in a dream, stopping at the seat that he’s claimed his own for days, and doesn’t quite find the energy to smile.

“How is it that you’re always in a bad mood when you come here?” asks Henry, looking up at him with obvious concern. Zhou Mi feels a little grateful for that, enough to plaster a smile on his face at the very least.

“I’m a fool, that’s why,” he replies.

“Love makes us all a fool.” Henry says seriously.

It takes ten seconds before they’re clutching each other, shoulders shaking with laughter.

“No really, I can’t believe you did that,” says Henry once they’ve finished with the laughing and Zhou Mi’s told him the whole story. Zhou Mi only hangs his head in shame and nods sadly.

There’s a slap on his back, and then Henry says, “And as always, maybe this will make you happy,” with a finger pointed at the table.

Zhou Mi finds the last of his energy and peers closely at the table. There’s no caricature this time, but only a few words written on the desk –

How about meeting up tomorrow after school?

It's not really a question though, because scribbled below is I’ll be waiting for you at the gate. P.S. Bring a red rose with you so I’ll know it’s you!

Zhou Mi reads and reads it. His breath hitches and he turns to Henry, all colour draining off his face.

“I think this guy may know Heechul,” is the first thing he says.

* * *

Heechul, however, denies any such knowledge, and promptly huffs at the accusation. “I’d have set you up way before if that had been the case,” he says, and Zhou Mi agrees for once.

He falls on his bed with his arms outstretched, eyes coming to stare at the ceiling. “What should I do, hyung?” He asks, shutting his eyes in exhaustion.

There’s a slight pressure on the bed, and he feels Heechul’s hand patting his forehead lightly. “That’s up to you,” he says.

“But if I was in your place, I’d totally go,” he adds brightly a few seconds later.

Zhou Mi chuckles. “Unless I told Hangeng,”

Something drops on his chest, and he wheezes, opening his eyes to find Heechul sprawled all over him, crying, “What is that supposed to mean?”, and Zhou Mi protests loudly even as he shakes with laughter.

* * *

It still doesn’t prepare him for the nerves that show up after school.

So he’s dressed in one of Heechul’s outfits again, but it doesn’t make him anymore confident. In fact, it takes all of Henry and Ryeowook’s prodding before he actually gets to the gate.

“You guys, aren’t you staying with me?” He whines when he notices the two about to set off in some other direction.

Henry snorts, “Not if my life depended on it. What’s with the red rose anyway?”

Zhou Mi gives his best impression of a puppy dog look but it has no effect. “Nice try,” says Ryeowook, patting him on the shoulder. “We’ll be there by the way,” he indicates a bush not too far away, “watching the action from afar.”

Then they’ve disappeared, and it’s only Zhou Mi there, standing awkwardly while the students mill around, the rose looking redundant in his hand. He debates what to do with it when there are footsteps behind him – coming closer to him, if he’s not wrong.

He swivels around immediately, hiding the rose behind his back.

Kyuhyun. “Hey,” says the thin, lanky guy that Zhou Mi’s had a crush since, he thinks, forever.

“Hi,” replies Zhou Mi without missing a beat, his smile clouded with confusion. After yesterday, he’d have thought Kyuhyun wouldn’t want to see him again. Clearly, that’s not the case.

“So I was dumped yesterday,” says Kyuhyun, staring at his shoes interestedly. Zhou Mi gawks at him, but he ignores the look and continues, “But I think I deserve a second chance. Maybe sitting with me in class isn’t really fun, so what about going to that café instead?”

There’s this long moment where Zhou Mi’s mind whirls with a mixture of confusion and surprise. And then he gets it, his grin widening ever so slightly.

He isn’t going to mess this up. “You’re paying, though,” he tells Kyuhyun lightly, and they laugh like they’ve always been friends – like maybe they could be more than just friends.

And so the rose lands on the bush behind which Henry and Ryeowook sit and gape at him, a soft “Sorry,” muttered along, before Zhou Mi skips across to where Kyuhyun is.

(“What are we going to do now?” hisses Ryeowook, “I wanted to see who the mystery guy was!”

Henry winks and grabs the abandoned rose.)
---

for some strange reason this took me ages to write *blames DC* and i rewrote it three times too ._____.

this is my attempt at henry birthday!fic lmao *shot*

edit: ~~now with formatting and shit!~~ formatting is just not my thing :( back to plain old, plain old.

[sungmin/???] lessons in how to write bad porn!

Mon, 05 Oct 2009 12:24:22 GMT

does this even need a fic header? ...idk.

Sungmin brushes his hand over the surface lightly, as if he's testing the waters, tender fingers stroking the base in a gentle manner. A small unfortunate sound escapes his lips, and he is forced to give up all pretenses as his fingers press hard into the smooth, lush skin. He teases for a while; his fingers pretend to skim down but never quite do so. Then, finally giving in to temptation, he lets his hand slide down towards the tip slowly, lingering as far as he can. His calloused hand circles itself around the tip before beginning to caress the soft skin, and somehow Sungmin almost gets carried away as he starts stroking more firmly. He works into a gentle rhythm - up and down, up and down - and his breath hitches slightly, heat pooling in his stomach, but he carries on anyway.

At that very opportune moment the door opens and Kyuhyun comes in, his bag dropping to the floor with a loud thud.

“Sungmin,” he starts nervously, “What are you doing with that banana?”

---

i know, i know, what the fuck.

three times kyuhyun lied to sungmin and donghae (and one time he wasn't so sure)

Sun, 04 Oct 2009 09:23:45 GMT

Title: Three Times Kyuhyun Lied To Sungmin And Donghae (And One Time He Wasn't So Sure)
Rating: G
Summary: AU; Kyuhyun, Sungmin and Donghae as kids. Kyuhyun finds that tricking his friends can have hilarious consequences.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.

Ten year old Donghae stops short in his tracks, mouth falling wide open. Sungmin, trailing right behind, bumps into him and begins to protest angrily at the disruption.

“Donghae! Why did you stop?”

Donghae spins around, his eyes widening, and tugs Sungmin’s hand furiously before turning back. “Look!” he cries.

Sungmin eyes his best friend curiously before following his line of sight. He studies the view for a full second.

“No, really, I don’t get it.”

There’s a slight pause, in which Donghae closes his mouth and opens it again, clearly trying to string together a coherent sentence despite the obvious excitement bubbling inside him. He finally meets success, and pointing at the bus right in front of them he exclaims loudly, “It’s a magic bus!”

The bus in question stands innocently, sparkling brightly in the sunlight. It’s blue in colour, and there are rainbows and stars all over it, and Sungmin cannot for the life of his understand why exactly Donghae would want to call it a magic bus. Nor does he think Donghae would be able to explain this himself.

So he turns to Kyuhyun, who is Sungmin’s other best friend and is walking slowly behind them because otherwise he’d bump into Sungmin, and who is frankly, thinks Sungmin, such a know-it-all (but he does know it all, and is always right).

“Kyuhyun, Kyuhyun, why does he think it’s a magic bus?” He slows down to ask Kyuhyun, one eye still on Donghae, just in case he starts running around wildly or breaks something, or god forbid, goes near that bus. “Are we supposed to believe in magic buses?”

The other kid shrugs, and answers, “Because it’s blue,” He pauses for dramatic effect, then - “And yes.”

Sungmin stares at him for a second, and Kyuhyun takes a step back, just as insurance. But he doesn’t really have to fear the school-taekwondo-champ much; Sungmin’s eyes widen in a mixture of understanding and wonder and he only nods his head.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, walking over to where Donghae stands, “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

That was easy. Kyuhyun looks at the two of them and shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear.

So it’s established that the bus is magical, and that apparently gives Sungmin and Donghae every right to examine each and every inch of it. “We’re going to ride this?” asks Donghae, glaring at the scratches on the side of the door.

“Teacher said we have to,” says Sungmin, stroking a hand over the smooth surface of the back. “Do you think he knows?”

“You bet he does,” says Kyuhyun, clearly enjoying the power he holds over them and how they’re ready to believe anything he says. “I bet,” he says, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “they’re planning to take us to some faraway land with this bus.”

He quite enjoys the look of pure terror on the two kids’ faces.

“I don’t want to leave this city!”

“What will happen to me?”

“They’ll kidnap us!”

“I don’t want to go! I don’t want to leave mom and dad!”

Siwon, the twenty five year old teacher without a wife or kids, wonders why he’s being mobbed by all the kids in his class, howling like they’re never going to see the light of another day.

* * *

Once he’s convinced the kids that no, the bus isn’t magical at all, there’s still the next step left of convincing them to get onto said bus. Problem number one is Donghae.

“No way in hell!” cries the kid, even as Siwon does his best to tug him along without being sued for child abuse. ”That bus has magic in it,” he screams, “and I know you’re going to take us to some faraway land. Far away from our parents,”

“We’re only going to the zoo for the day!”

“I don’t believe you,” screams Donghae, kicking his legs in an attempt to get free.

“Why would I—” he trails off, figuring it best not to argue with a very angry ten year old.

“Come on Donghae,” he starts on another track. “We’re taking you to-” he racks his brains. “Narnia. Yeah, Narnia, that’s it,” he says, accompanied by an internal cringe. “It’s a really nice place,” he finishes smoothly.

“Aha!” says a voice from his side which very well sounds like Kyuhyun. “So you are taking us away to some faraway land!”

“But Narnia doesn’t even exist,” says Donghae, looking around, clearly confused. Siwon gives him an odd look.

“It does, hyung,” chirps Kyuhyun, and Siwon shoots him a look but he ignores it anyway. “There’s the evil white witch too,” he supplies, slinging a shoulder around Donghae, who gives him a bewildered look.

Siwon is just about to scream when a pair of hands clamp down over Kyuhyun’s mouth. “Ha-ha,” says Sungmin flatly, not laughing at all, “Teacher, you know he’s just kidding.”

Siwon’s eyes travel from Sungmin, who has a fake grin plastered on his face, to Kyuhyun, from whom he can hear only muffled words, to Donghae, who is looking clearly terrified. He sighs.

“Just get Donghae on the bus,” he tells Sungmin.

Once he’s out of sight, Sungmin furiously whispers to Kyuhyun, “They’re in on it too, did you forget? We can’t let them know that we know!”

“So then what do we do?” Kyuhyun figures running behind the bus and having a good laugh there, which he is clearly in need of, won’t be there on the list.

“We’ll run for it,” says Sungmin, and Donghae nods in agreement.

* * *

“Your house is on that side,” Kyuhyun screams as loudly as possible, his body trembling with laughter and exhaustion combined.

It’s a good thing that the other two, still running in the opposite direction, are too far away to see him.

* * *

“I’ve heard,” Kyuhyun says one day in the drawing class, weeks after the incident, “that he’s,” He jerks his head towards their art teacher, a plump funny man who goes by the name of Shin Donghee (“That’s teacher to you!”), “in a relationship with teacher Siwon.”

Sungmin’s brush falls to the ground with a clatter and Donghae gives out a loud gasp.

“No way,” says Sungmin furiously, once Donghee has his suspicious glance directed at another pair of kids (who have somehow managed to paint everywhere except on the paper), “You tricked us once. We’re not falling for it again,” He glares at Kyuhyun as he retrieves his brush.

Kyuhyun bites the inside of his cheek to stop the smile from breaking out. “I honestly thought it was a magic bus,”

“Yeah right,” snorts Sungmin.

“Me too,” says Donghae instead, nodding his head. “I still think it’s magical,”

Sungmin stares at him for a long time, and then gives up. “You,” he says, turning to Kyuhyun instead, “I’m not going to believe a word you say.” He grabs one of Donghae’s brushes and throws it at Kyuhyun, who only manages to duck in time.

“But honestly, guys," he tries again, "I saw them kissing on the teacher’s desk just the other day,”

This new piece of information manages to grab all of Sungmin’s and Donghae’s attention. “No way,” sputters Sungmin, while Donghae whistles slowly.

“Now that you mention it,” he starts, sneaking a quick glance at Donghee to see whether he’s close enough to hear them or not, “Heechul-hyung was telling me about how he saw the two of them going into the same bathroom stall together.”

Sungmin’s resolve starts puttering out. “B-but,” he says, “You know Heechul’s always making up things. And anyway, we all know the language teacher Boa has a thing for teacher Donghee-”

His words are cut short when a face peeks in. “Mr. Donghee,” starts the deep, rough voice of their class teacher Siwon, “Can I have a moment with you please?”

“Why were those three kids staring at me?” he asks ten minutes later, fingering Donghee’s waistband as his other hand slips under the shirt.

“You probably have something in your teeth,” Donghee almost moans. There’s a slight pause and Donghee blinks as Siwon whirls around, kicking the stall open and goes to the mirrors.

“Oh, for god’s sake!”

---

...um.
i got inspiration to write shinwon from this :D

[kibum/sungmin] pre-first world war theatre au; untitled ficlet

Wed, 30 Sep 2009 17:18:15 GMT

Title: Untitled
Rating: G; but likely to change
Summary: Sungmin called himself the king of theatre.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.
Notes: say hello to a wip! i'm working on this idea here, and it's still only 750 words atm but i'm aiming for a 5,000 (high hopes, i know). anyway, thoughts please? i'm scared of being factually inaccurate ;; about time i got a beta ;_;

The hazy lights shone in the background, the spotlight falling on the actors. They were a motley crew coming from all sorts of backgrounds, famous for their great performances, and whilst the plays they performed weren’t particularly famous they were hilarious all the same - the dialogues uttered seemed to always be punctured with laughter.

It was the year of 1917, and in these times of war, when there were lives lost and bloodshed everywhere – they all remained unperturbed; the entertainment never got subdued or less shocking.

The theatre scene was as good as ever, and that was all that mattered to Sungmin.

And when the play ended with garrulous laughter and a smattering of applause, Sungmin, the fine young actor-of-the-masses as the critics called him, would wink at the pretty girl in the front row – one of the very few women among all the young men, mostly soldiers in the audience – as he took a final bow. She, in turn, would return a pretty smile, one of the dozens of other women that came to this theatre regularly in order to watch him. They surrounded him wherever he went, and the player that he was, he would play up to the part, flirting outrageously – but it was all in good fun, and if someone did go step ahead and start taking it seriously, they were sure to get a firm but gentle no. Rumours flew around, but to those he kept up a mysterious, yet knowing smile.

Then the curtains would fall and the dream would end and there’d be no more of that feeling he felt when everything came to a perfect close. All that he would see were the red sheets of satin and all he could hear were the murmurs of the audience as they filed out, no doubt talking about the latest play – and, he would like to think, his genius performance.

He’d stand there for a moment, letting the final indistinct sounds wash over him in a last, indulgent moment before someone called out to him to congratulate him. He’d get more of those later, during the parties, and he’d enjoy them fully then, but for now he would have to nod hurriedly and say a quick thank you before making his way to the dressing room quickly.

Because in the dressing room, Kibum would be waiting for him.

“Kibum,” he would say as soon as he closed the door behind him, and with a deep sigh he’d fall straight into the welcoming arms of that man who could have been just as fine an actor as he was – maybe even better, with that beautiful face and smile of his that could charm a thousands - but who was to say what could happen? Yet, pushing those thoughts aside, he’d struggle to fit snugly into the other man’s hold, and then he’d rest his cheek on the latter’s shoulder and tell him about the play, and the audience, and the co-actor’s latest gaffes and then he’d laugh about it all, and declare in no uncertain words that he was, in fact, the best actor that London had seen in centuries, and it was too bad that he loved Kibum too much or he’d be doing plays in the Empire theatre right now instead of wasting his time here, in this rundown, no-good theatre.

His Kibum, like usual, would nod his head and ‘hmmm’ at him and flash his smile at all the right points in this one sided conversation of theirs. He’d laugh, like always, at Sungmin’s final declaration, and disagree in that laconic way of his, words few but meaningful.

And Sungmin, honestly, would be too tired to argue, but he would still do so – just for the sake of it. Kibum knew this, and knew him well, so he’d give up immediately, and Sungmin would wonder whether to feel pleased or annoyed at that. He’d settle for the former, letting their fingers entwine as a sign of conflicted approval, and somewhere down the line his eyes would droop and the comfortable silence between them would sing him to sleep.

When he woke up, there’d be a head leaning against his own, and Sungmin would listen to the sounds of Kibum’s steady breathing – in and out, in and out – and he’d smile, letting his thoughts wander.

This was how they thought they’d always be – and yet, they knew it wasn’t true. Sooner than they hoped, they were proved right.

[Sungmin/Sunny] One More Time

Mon, 28 Sep 2009 10:40:45 GMT

Title: One More Time
Rating: PG
Summary: Sungmin is a romantic at heart.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.

Sungmin falls in love easily and quickly and so often that he’s lost count. This, he thinks, is no different.

He stops in his tracks and turns behind, unmindful of the flashing cameras and the obnoxious screams of the fans and the people backstage telling him to hurry. His eyes catch Sunny's face and the way her lips curve into a charming smile, her eyes blinking in happiness as she croons into the mike with that sweet, sweet voice of hers.

He smiles as well and closes his eyes, letting that image of her imprint itself in his mind forever.

* * *

After-concert parties are what he particularly despises - especially since socializing is not quite his forte when his mood is worn thin with exhaustion, and the faux compliments get to him after a while. He weaves his way through the crowd of people, smiling as brightly as he can and nodding his greetings to those he recognizes.

He comes to a sudden stop then; her face suddenly comes into view and he belatedly manages to avoid crashing into her. She looks up at him, her eyes widening in surprise and there’s a sudden, inexplicable lump in his throat. It only grows as those eyes start to betray laughter, and a wicked grin forms on her face, the tinge of red almost invisible, and he begins to wonder if the rumours that are flying around thick and fast about their purported relationship affect her as much as they affect him.

“Oppa,” she says, the tone of her voice light and joking, “I didn’t see you there!” She puts a tentative hand on his shoulder and continues, “What were you doing, trying to stalk me?” The question is his answer – rumours don’t affect her; or maybe she just accepts them as they are – and this earns her his respect, primarily because it’s difficult for him to brush such things under the carpet.

It’s his turn to laugh, and so he does, lightheartedly pushing her away. He opens his mouth to reply, but the witty reply that was on his lips only a few moments ago die away as he catches the look on her face – bright, teasing, positive. Instead, he turns away from her, offering only a good-natured wink that he regrets later, knowing what message it may - or may not - have sent across.

He makes his way towards the bar and sits on the school, pondering over her words as he waits for the busy bartender to attend to him. There are footfalls behind him, and then arms slung around his neck as a breathy, “Heeeey Sungmin,” is slurred into his ear.

Jesus. “Jesus, Sooyoung,” he mumbles, pulling himself out of her grasp impatiently. She groans from the loss of contact and slumps on the stool next to his, forehead coming to rest against the smooth surface of the table. “Haven’t you had too much to drink tonight?” He continues, slowly inching away from her as the smell of alcohol reeking from her overpowers his senses.

She turns her head to the side, one eye opened lazily. “Mmm, Sungminnie, lighten up, won’t ya?” she giggles, both eyes now studying him intently. “You really won’t get a girl this way,” she states, her voice betraying any seriousness her statement might have implied. (“And I’m not quite drunk yet, anyway,” she tells him happily. “I have a high tolerance level!”)

“I got you, didn’t I?” he shoots back, wondering at the simplicity with which a cynical reply can come out of his mouth now. He gives her a lopsided grin and she slaps his knee in reply.

“I was young and foolish then!” She holds up a hand, cutting the predictable reply that comes her way short. “Though I still wonder – how exactly could I have fallen for an old man like you?”

“Hey!” He objects in jest, crossing his arms with a pout on his face. “I’m not old!” He insists, “Just because the guy you’re crushing on now is three years younger than me doesn’t make me old.”

Her face is flushed bright with embarrassment. “I don’t like him,” she cries in protest. Then she lowers her voice – “And no offence, but when compared to him, your age really does stick out like a sore thumb.”

He cups his hands around her neck, pretending to strangle her, and she laughs heartily. “I was just being honest.” she complains, trying futilely to push him away. “Anyway,” she adds, with a glint of mischievousness in her eyes that Sungmin recognizes so well, “I know someone who totally hits on old men like you,”

He gives her a firm look – he knows what she’s talking about and she knows he knows – and bites his lip, raising his eyebrows slightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies through his teeth, refusing to meet her eyes.

She snorts out loud. “Yeah, right,” she mumbles, turning to the bartender who’s finally come up and without paying any heed to Sungmin’s warnings, orders another bottle of beer. “Stop beating around the bush, will you? You like her and she likes you back – yes she does, I can tell, try believing me for once dammit – so just get over with it already.”

“It’s not as easy as you make it sound,” he says finally, sighing into his own bottle of beer. “There would be a lot of problems –” The words haven’t even started from her lips when he interrupts her with a short look. “She’s Lee Soo Man’s niece, for god’s sake. You know that,” he says accusingly.

“That hasn’t stopped her from dating before, has it?” She notices the frown forming on Sungmin’s face and throws up her hands. “Jeez, stop acting like a fucking prude! It’s not like people her age don’t date. This is hopeless.” She clenches a fist and proceeds to hit the top of Sungmin’s head with it. “You are,” she says, shaking her head unhappily, “hopeless.”

“So are you,” he retorts, the frown refusing to come off his face. “I don’t like him!” he mimics her shrilly, earning a soft punch for his effort. “Although I don’t blame you for being in denial, he clearly wouldn’t like you back. He’s too blinded by my attractive face to care about anyone else.”

“Oh really, now?” Cupping her mouth, she bursts into giggles. Sungmin gives a wide smirk but pretends to ignore her, and then she exclaims and he is forced to look at her. “What is it now?” he asks tiredly, running a finger along the rim of her now empty beer bottle.

“Your lover boy’s heading over here,” she deadpans, a little smile playing on her face. “Heey Kyuhyun,” she greets him as he stops next to Sungmin, waving her hand and giving him an unmistakably flirtatious wink that prompts Sungmin to snort loudly, which in turn gets him a kick under the table. He looks at her and raises an eyebrow - I thought you didn’t like him.

She grins back; the drink seems to definitely have gotten to her (finally, thinks Sungmin). No one said I couldn’t play.

Kyuhyun smiles and ruffles Sungmin’s hair affectionately, an old habit of his. “I’m glad you’re still safe,” he jokes, his grin widening as Sooyoung plasters a mock pout on her face, sticking her tongue out at him.

Sungmin grins along. “Aw, see how much he cares about me?” He gives a complacent nod to Sooyoung, head bobbing a little more frantically with the aftereffects of too much drink. “We were talking,” he turns to address Kyuhyun, giving the latter a playful wink of his own, “about how you’re head over heels for me,”

“Now Sungmin, should we really be this open about our relationship?” Kyuhyun places a hand on Sungmin’s shoulder, and they exchange similar grins.

“I wouldn’t mind,” says Sungmin, pulling Kyuhyun toward him until their lips meet. It’s a sloppy, messy, chaste touch of lips that makes Sungmin faintly wonder if he isn’t the only drunk one, and he barely manages not to laugh into the kiss. He pulls back, meeting Kyuhyun’s wide grin with one of his own, special smiles. Then, in a seemingly coordinated move, they turn to look at Sooyoung.

Her jaw is dropped open and the only reason she’s only stopped short of audibly gasping at them is because her surprise is tinged with annoyance. “Could you two be more obvious?” she asks in disgust, scrunching up her nose.

“We try,” says Kyuhyun, doing a quick looking-around to see if anyone saw them. All he gets is a people at various stages of intoxication, so he turns back. “But honestly, though, I think I might prefer girls to guys.”

“Might?” asks Sooyoung, beaming beatifically as she finally gets her opportunity. “Let’s test that theory, shall we?” She gives him no chance to protest or reply, taking hold of his arm and dragging the taller and much stronger man to what seems like a secluded corner of the room. She takes a moment to turn to Sungmin and give him a wink, and he laughs even as he shakes her head.

Kids, he thinks, ordering another bottle of beer although he hopes that it won’t be detrimental to his mental capacity.

There’s a sound of shuffling feet behind him and he turns, half-hoping that it isn’t someone who caught sight of his small encounter with Kyuhyun and may want to reprimand him (Leeteuk, Kangin, the manager).

But it’s her – eyes creased in confusion, a half-smile playing on her face, and her expression touched with uncertainty – and he watches her, takes everything in. He finally manages to form a small smile of his own, swallows down the lump in his throat that seems to appear whenever she’s around, and opens his mouth to speak to her. “Hey,” he starts.

He notices her expression and hazards a guess. “Didn’t see my little interaction with Kyuhyun, did you?”

A nervous laugh breaks from her lips, and his assumption is proved right. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” she says lightly, blushing from ear to ear. There’s an awkward silence in which Sungmin regards her with a frown and she pretends to study the smooth tiles on the floor.

Someone calls out her name, and she takes a deep breath. “Maybe I should go now,” she says quickly and turns to the source of the voice.

It’s a split-second decision – later, Sungmin wonders exactly what prompted him to do it anyway, and he decides never to let his heart dictate his actions again (it’s a false promise, though).

He pulls her hand and watches her eyes widen as she spins back, then takes hold of her chin and kisses her. It’s a fairly short kiss, and he immediately pulls back and steps backward, embarrassment mixed with a touch of firmness visible on his face.

“Kyuhyun isn’t a really good kisser, you know” he offers lamely by way of explanation, voice faltering a little. “He left a bitter taste in my mouth – so I, uh-”

She starts laughing, holding her stomach, and he feels just slightly affronted. Except, it’s really difficult.

“You should’ve said so,” she tells him. “I can help you with that,” And there’s a tug at his hand, and she nods her head towards the restroom.

* * *

He’s fallen in love so many times that he’s lost count – but each time has been special, and he treasures all those experiences equally. This, he knows, is no different.

---

wow this is kind of pointless. also i clearly suck at titles/summaries >:( sorry about that.

[Heechul-centric] Someone for Me

Sun, 27 Sep 2009 08:18:55 GMT

Title: Someone for Me
Rating: G
Summary: The recipe for a Heechul (but cooking one ain't easy).
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.
Notes:: not-so-secret!pairing. also, unedited.

Heechul is a fickle-minded person. One moment he’ll be raring to go shopping and the next he’ll feel too lazy to even step out of his room. He makes sure everyone knows this important fact about him, right from Eeteuk to Henry, from the fans he adores so much to the people who hate every inch of him. So they know perfectly when he’s acting like a Heechul, and play along with him or pretend to not notice him. It's gotten to the point where the reactions to his little quirk amuse him so much that he keeps his behaviour the way it is, even though - or maybe because he knows he shouldn’t act like this, and the higher-ups don’t like it. Especially when it translates to bigger ‘mistakes’ on the global stage, where people are constantly looking at the band and judging it, and the people in it.

Heechul is rebellious and likes to be his own boss and with the way his ‘bosses’ have played with his career, putting him as an entertainer in an oversized boy band when he could have been a well-recognized, established actor by now – he finds it fun, retribution even, harassing them like this. So he ignores the pleas of his manager and the implied threats of the producers and even Lee Soo Man’s talk the day after the concert in favour of being – he relishes the thought – a Heechul.

Heechul is outspoken – mean, they call him, but he prefers bluntly honest. He likes to tell people his opinion of them, although sometimes it just slips out without meaning to, and he’s built up quite a reputation, to the point where the dongsaengs that don’t know him make it a point to avoid him and his infamous biting tongue. He doesn’t blame them, but he doesn’t give them any credit either. After all, the only reason he tells them the truth is so that they can improve themselves. Before debuting, he honestly used to believe that people liked him for telling them the truth, and that they appreciated his well-meant advice. After debut, when the anti-fan sites started popping up, he realized the truth. Ah, well, he shrugs, that’s their misfortune – and he goes on his own way and stops bothering people with honesty that they can’t take.

It’s better, he believes, than telling beautiful “white” lies that sycophants are wont to say.

Heechul isn’t perfect at all. He is imperfect in every aspect of himself that he sees in the mirror. Yet, in front of the crowd, in front of the other members, in front of his friends, he chooses to ignore those imperfections and instead pay attention, and make others pay attention to his own qualities. It works sometimes, but the other times it doesn’t – it maybe because he puts so much emphasis on his own virtues that those imperfections slip out, or maybe they’re so obvious that nothing could let them remain hidden. And yet, and yet, these imperfections make him the person that he is – a Heechul, he tells himself over and over again – that he can’t help but be proud of them.

Heechul is fickle-minded, rebellious, mean, imperfect, and all those other things that people think make him a Heechul. But that doesn’t make him a Heechul, not a complete one at least. Not, he comes to believe soon, without that person.

Because without that person, Heechul can’t find the energy to not want to go out of the room, to stop himself from telling someone just exactly what he thinks of them, to gloss over his flaws like they don’t exist. Because without that person, life is barren and empty and Heechul just can’t imagine how he’s lived twenty years without that presence in his life, or how he’s passed the tiny seconds of the tiny minutes of the days, or how he’s gotten to where he is. Because without that person, Heechul would probably realize, but never come to terms with the fact that he’s rebellious and fickle-minded and impatient and mean and all those things that make people love him and hate him at the same time.

So when that person comes into his life, like a fresh whiff of air, like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy morning, Heechul takes him and makes him his most important person, someone he cares about and takes pains to look after, someone he can help when they need it, someone he can share and laugh over all his troubles with, someone he can spread joy to and have some in return, someone he needs like everyone needs someone in their lives.

As the days and the hours and the minutes and the seconds come and go, Heechul finds that he doesn’t really need to think of a reason for why life exists, because he doesn’t really care about the answer. He finds that he doesn’t have to search for something to do; that he doesn’t mind not being an actor so much anymore; that even the lack of sleep is made up by the fact that he has a person he treasures so much, he’d probably give his life away for the man.

Then one day there comes a sudden moment, out of nowhere, where Heechul comes to the realization that he’d rather not live without this person. He’s known this for some time actually, even said it to the others in jest, but the way it just comes into his mind without any warning, he knows. And he laughs and forgets about it and the moment passes as soon as it came, but the thought remains at the back of his mind and enters his actions and soon, it becomes a part of his daily train of thought, his movements, even his dreams.

Heechul knows then that he’s done it, that this was the moment he’d been waiting for ever since he’d hit puberty, and yet, this isn’t how he’d expected it – how he’d wanted it. He realizes that he’s done it now, and he knows he can’t change it. But for the first time in his life, he actually wishes he’d never had this very imperfection, and he regrets it, because even if he’s known all along he’s like this, he doesn’t want it to affect his relationship with that person. This thought comes with the realization that he’s really fallen in love this time, unlike those other little crushes that failed to transform into something meaningful.

For the first time ever, Heechul regrets being a Heechul. If it means that he can’t put his thoughts away when he sees that man, or can’t lessen the growing desire in him, or can’t feel what he used to feel around the person, then he doesn’t want to be a Heechul anymore. And even though thinking this hurts his pride a little, he still doesn’t put the thought away, because it’s true enough to him. He even wishes, unhappy as it makes him, and hopeless as he knows it is, for those feelings to go away.

Heechul is fickle-minded, but not so much when it comes to love, to the people that he trusts. This case involves both, which is why he can’t exactly explain this uncertainty to himself; it feels so foreign to his ego. But he knows that the uncertainty is justified – despite their closeness, despite their deep friendship, something more just couldn’t be possible.

Or maybe, he realizes at the same time, it’s because of the closeness, because of the deep friendship that something more couldn’t be possible.

And yet he can’t just wish away those feelings without distancing himself from that person, and he knows he can’t distance himself because he doesn’t want to. Heechul is frightened – his own indecisiveness frightens him, his feelings and the havoc they’re causing in his mind frighten him.

Heechul doesn’t know what to do, it confuses him, and in that vulnerable moment he doesn’t remain his own self-assured, cocky self. But for the time being, he hopes to float across without falling to these feelings and avoid them as much as he can. He tells this to himself even as a part of him finds it funny, because he remembers telling one of his female friends once not to avoid their own feelings.

The other part of him, though, finally understands what retribution really means.

----

~~might write a sequel to this, idk. the "other person" needs a story of his own too, i guess?~~ UGH NVM. i hate this.

[Kyuhyun/Sungmin] God's Men

Sat, 26 Sep 2009 12:03:45 GMT

Title: God's Men
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU. Sungmin is a nobody until the day he meets the stranger. After that, everything goes haywire.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.
Warnings: implied!rape, violence, character deaths

It’s not that he doesn’t have the will required to be a reporter - it’s just that he has too much imagination to fit into the role of one, Sungmin realizes two years into his low-pay career at a local daily. This quality has leaft him with a reputation of explosive articles and a trail of lawsuits following him, and in a small town like this, that doesn’t spell well for him. Nor for his editor, who reminds him of the fact everyday.

He clasps his hands behind his back and nods at his editor, words going in one ear and coming out of the other as he thinks back to those days when he used to be young and energetic and ambitious and have dreams. Dreams, he thinks ruefully, that were destroyed by the world around him.

“I’m giving you one last chance,” sighs the editor, a burly middle-aged man with a gentle temperament but ruthless words. “Get me an article – a good one – and we’ll see about your future here in this place.”

Sungmin doesn’t quite understand the words – it isn’t easy to ‘get’ an article in a sleepy town like this where the only newsworthy acts are a high yield of fish or a robbery here and there – but he agrees anyway, and leaves immediately for the place he always escapes to – the cafeteria.

It’s a terribly busy night for the café, which is normal considering that it’s one of the best (and also the most expensive) ones the town has. Thankfully, there’s an empty table near the window and Sungmin takes it. He starts fiddling with the bottle of pepper on the table, his eyes straying around the busy cafeteria as he waits for the waitress to come and take his order. It’s a busy day indeed – Sungmin catches the mayor of the town sitting on one of the tables with two important looking men, and he averts his eyes quickly (there’s a lawsuit involved between them that he quite wants to forget about at the moment). The couple on the table ahead of him, seemingly in their 30s, starts arguing faster than he’d have expected, and as for the huge man sitting right behind him, he talks loudly into his cell phone in an obnoxious manner that makes Sungmin itch to swivel around and hit him squarely in the eye with the pepper bottle.

He resists the urge, however, and turns to the window instead in despair, hoping for the bright lights of the town plaza to distract him just a little. Thoughts don’t come to him – it’s difficult for him to think, at times like these, and he doesn’t really want to think either. It’s the people of different shapes and sizes, of different personalities and actions that interest him. Sungmin assumes that this interest was what made him take up his current profession in the first place, even if he does regret it now.

As his eyes wander around, they catch a thin, pale man, with wiry arms and an attractive mouth, and he glances with curiosity bred out of boredom. The man stands still for a minute, then starts walking about a bit, then stops, then stretches his arms and yawns, a quick look at his watch. Sungmin turns to the pepper bottle, shakes it lightly, then turns again to the window. The man is flexing his fingers and looking at them in deep concentration. Sungmin can’t help but quirk an eyebrow at the sight.

The man seems to notice the pair of eyes on him, and looks up suddenly. Their eyes meet at once, and Sungmin notices that they’re a deep, blank shade of grey. The man’s lips curve into a smile and even as Sungmin turns back to his pepper bottle, embarrassed at being caught staring, he wonders if he’s missed some joke here.

Two minutes of fiddling and his mind can’t resist, and he looks up for an inquisitive moment. The cold eyes and the strange smile meet him, and he exhales loudly and pretends to look elsewhere, but he still watches the man out of the corner of his eyes. And then he starts.

The man starts walking towards the window of the cafeteria near which he’s sitting, his smirk growing wider with each small step.

The feeling of confusion spreads as Sungmin feel those eyes on him, and the distance between them closing. He actually bolts and sits upright when the man stops, not even inches away from the window, but he brings up the courage to look right back at him.

The man stares for a full minute before his lips move, and Sungmin stares back, not able to make anything out, and he racks his brains trying to figure out the jumbled words when-

“How may I help you, sir?” Sungmin turns to the source of the voice with a jolt and finds a pair of eyes blinking at him expectantly. He opens his mouth soundlessly, but then decides to ignore her in favour of turning back to the window, to that creepy man. His eyes crease in confusion.

There’s no sign of the man anywhere.

“I-I,” he turns back to the girl, then back to the window, his confusion rising second by second, and then he looks back at her again as if he’s expecting an answer from her. She meets his expression with a look of pure boredom, and he sits aghast; then turns back to the window again and stares outside, his eyes searching all over.

“I don’t have time for you all day,” says the girl, all traces of politeness disappearing, and Sungmin looks back at her, mouth hanging open, confusion spelt all over.

He realizes that she’d be of no help, and with an “I’ll have that,” he jabs a finger at the first thing on the menu, then turns to the window immediately and stares out. Hundreds of people mill about, but he can’t sight the man anywhere.

He can’t possibly be able to, he realizes, so he gives up and slumps back into his seat. He purses his lips in thought, and as much as it intrigues him, he decides to dismiss the disappearance in favour of a more pressing question – what was the man trying to tell him, and why? Sungmin presses his head to the window. Maybe the man was crazy, his reasoning tells him, but somewhere in his mind he isn’t ready to believe that - something sounds off about it all.

“Your water,” says the waitress, interrupting him for the second time that day with the mineral water bottle placed on the table. He stares at her retreating back for a second, before looking back at the menu. Oh.

“Hey,” he calls out to her, and she turns to him with a roll of her eyes. “I’d like to-”

He frowns and trails off as he sees her clearly not paying attention to him, her eyes widening in terror instead. Confused, he follows her line of sight to his window, and it’s then that he hears the noise.

The buildings in the vicinity crumble down one by one, the noise echoing through the entire area. Sungmin looks on and on, his hands somehow finding his ears and covering them, and he hears the people around him too, faint sounds of panic mingling with the noise of the blocks that seem to fall on the earth and the screams of the people trapped inside as death faces them. But he ignores them all for that face staring at him from the epicenter of the commotion.

It’s that man.

Sungmin’s eyes widen in fear. Despite the buildings falling around him, there doesn’t seem to be a single scratch on his body. And the fact that Sungmin can see this horrifies him even more – because while everything else seems hazy, the man stands out clearly, as if he’s being viewed through a large magnifying glass. Sungmin blinks and closes his eyes and when he opens them, the man is still there. And he’s looking directly at him with that smirk of his.

Sungmin turns to his side and sees the other people milling around near his window, waits for someone to notice the man and scream and point him out, but no one does. So he turns to the waitress beside him instead, her jaw dropped. “Hey,” he says, trying and failing to keep the desperation out of his voice, “Don’t you see that guy standing below the building which is about to fall?”

She stares at the place he’s pointed to keenly, and then looks at him with confusion. “Nope, I can’t see anyone. Are you sure there’s someone there?” She switches her gaze back to the place, and shudders as a shaft falls. “I sure as hope there isn’t,”

He stares at her for a moment, mouth agape, then back to the man, his suspicion confirmed.

The bombing stops just like that and all that’s left are the rubble and the living. He makes the decision in a fraction of a second, and ignoring the growing fear inside he pushes his way past the people trying to make their way out of the café and into the open. A cold gust of wind passes as he comes out, but he keeps walking, notwithstanding the cold or the screams or the smell of death. There’s panic everywhere – people rushing around, children wailing, the sirens of the ambulance, the police milling around, trying to restrain some order – but he pushes past them. They aren’t able to see the man either, realizes Sungmin, and his eyes lock on the man’s (those deep grey eyes still look at him, terrify him). Something seems to have overtaken him – Sungmin can’t seem to put his finger on what the feeling is – but it makes him unseeing to the destruction around him.

The man’s smirk never seems to leave his face as he sees Sungmin coming closer – in fact, it only widens as the distance between them gets lesser and lesser, lesser and lesser, until there’s none.

Sungmin gets a feeling of déjà vu - it’s just like before, he realizes. But this time, there’s no wall of glass separating them. Now that they’re closer, he can see the porcelain face and the blank eyes in such detail. A chill runs through his spine but he still takes up the challenge and never lets his gaze waver.

“Who are you?” There they are, in the middle of the rubble, and Sungmin wonders if his words lose themselves in the wind that plays through. But he feels like he needs to ask this question. It’s important to everything at stake.

The man laughs, deep and hearty, like he finds Sungmin very funny. “Who are you?” He asks back, highly amused. There’s a slight rustle behind him, and he turns to the source of the noise instead, as if he never wanted to hear Sungmin’s answer. Sungmin opens his mouth and utters a faint cry.

A man appears out of thin air. “Zhou Mi,” says the man in front of him dryly, “how’s it going?”

The other man smiles widely. “Real good, Kui Xian, real good. The mayor’s a chicken, he agreed to our demands immediately!”

“And that threat about informing the international authorities?”

“Jeez, were you really worried about that?” ‘Zhou Mi’ laughs. He catches sight of Sungmin and eyes him curiously. “Not another whore, I hope?” He looks back at the other man wearily. “And that too, this soon?”

‘Kui Xian’ grins. “He’s pretty, ain’t he? He could make a good whore, I suppose,” he muses, leering at Sungmin who shudders inwardly. “But I’m interested in him for another reason entirely.” His face lights up and he looks at Zhou Mi. “Hey, try your power on him and see what happens.”

“Are you sure?” asks the other man to whom the order has been directed, but he goes forward anyway without waiting for an answer. He reaches Sungmin, and smiles widely when Sungmin gulps. He raises his hand and Sungmin takes a step back in terror, but the hand only comes to rest on Sungmin’s hand.

There’s a brief period of silence, only to be broken by Kui Xian’s harsh laugh.

“Pity,” says Zhou Mi, “your head was supposed to burst into pieces.”

It takes a good amount of sheer courage for Sungmin’s legs to not give in, and even more strength to meet Zhou Mi’s eyes. “Who are you people?” He asks again, directing his question to the new arrival this time, his voice bolder than he’d have expected, as weak as he’s feeling inside.

Zhou Mi cocks his head to the side and looks him up and down. “I should be asking that to you,” he mumbles, but the moment passes and he immediately straightens up. “Kui Xian,” he says in a mocking tone, turning to meet the other man’s bright, laughing eyes, “How rude of you! You didn’t even introduce us properly to this very special guest of ours!”

The other man bows. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” he says smoothly. “Guess I should introduce us to you, then.” His voice is chillingly sharp.

Sungmin takes another step back, fear enveloping him fully, but then there’s a crack behind him and he turns around. The ground behind him has disappeared completely, and he’s teetering at the edge.

He looks back at the man, completely terrorized, and Kui Xian nods in satisfaction. Then he’s there suddenly, right next to Sungmin, holding him roughly by the arm and breathing something into his ear that he only faintly registers.

“We’re god’s men.”

And then Sungmin blacks out.

* * *

Sungmin wakes up to the musty smell of wet earth. He opens his eyes slowly, getting used to the bright light in the room, and attempts to move futilely. His numb hands are tied by a rope behind his back, and there’s a rope tying his legs together as well. He groans and stares back at the yellow ceiling.

There’s a sudden movement, and out of the corner of his eyes Sungmin sees a small, thin, bespectacled man get up from a chair. “Kyuhyun told me to tell him when you woke up,” he says uselessly to Sungmin and shuffles out of the room. Sungmin strains his eyes after him until the door shuts, and then observes whatever he can of the room from his uncomfortable position. It’s a small storage room, the walls yellowed and cracked, and Sungmin manages to roll to his side to see sunlight streaming through a small window covered by iron bars. He racks his brain, trying to place his current location, but can’t come up with anything.

“We’re on the outskirts of the city. Twenty miles away, to be precise.” says a voice. Sungmin recognizes the voice immediately and turns to the source. It’s that man again.

Sleep seems to have returned Sungmin’s strength. “So you can read minds too?” He asks, turning his eyes back to the ceiling.

The man laughs shortly, and pulls up the chair beside the small bed Sungmin lies on. “You give me too much credit,” he chuckles, sitting down.

Sungmin doesn’t laugh back. “Get me out of these ropes,” he demands, trying not to let any fear creep into his voice.

The man seems to find it funny, and this infuriates Sungmin further, slowly edging out the fear out of his mind. “My, my, aren’t we being too demanding now,” says the man mockingly. “I don’t think you’re in any position to do so, though. You do realize I could kill you with my bare hands at any moment?”

“If you wanted to kill me, you’d have done that a long time ago.” Sungmin points out.

“True enough,” says the man, “Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to kill you yet. You could be very useful to me,” he pauses for a moment, contemplating his own words. “Or just really interesting.”

“I’m Kyuhyun, by the way, though some call me Kui Xian,” he says suddenly, breaking the silence, a hand outstretched. Sungmin doesn’t take it, obviously, and Kyuhyun laughs at that.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, and unties the rope quickly. Sungmin flexes his hands as the feeling returning to them. He feels bold enough to ignore the strange man beside him and push himself up, hands moving to untie his legs, but with a swift movement Kyuhyun catches hold of both of his hands. “You need to realize that you’re the weak one here, Sungmin.”

Sungmin jerks his head violently at the mention of his name. Kyuhyun laughs and nods, “Noticed the guy here before me? His name’s Ryeowook. He can read people’s minds and get to know their entire life history if he wants to – whether the person’s conscious or unconscious, living or dead, bodily present or just a mere photograph.”

The fear that he’s managed so hard to destroy comes back, and Sungmin realizes then that it never was gone, that it had been there all along. “Who are you people, really?” he stutters, no longer trying to let his voice remain steady.

Kyuhyun seems to be very pleased by the effect he has on Sungmin, and doesn’t mind showing it in the least. “We’re god’s men,” he repeats, “God’s chosen men. We were born with these special powers.”

“And you’re trying to rule over the world using these powers?”

Kyuhyun laughs more than is necessary. “Really,” he chuckles, “you people see too many movies these days. Nah,” he adds, “ruling the world would take too long and too many lives, and we’re not that powerful anyway. Plus if we did want to rule over the world, we’d obviously not bother with your stupid little godforsaken town.”

“Then why-”

“That’s not something you need to know,” Kyuhyun dismisses him with a wave of his hand. “Although I’m sure you’ll come to know that soon. That is, if I let you live long enough.”

Sungmin shudders and closes his eyes, hoping this is all just a bad dream. He opens them. It isn’t. “What are you going to do with me?” He asks suddenly, his voice trembling.

Kyuhyun doesn’t answer him directly. The silence stretches for one long, trying moment as he looks at the wall. “I have the power of illusion,” he starts, eyes coming to rest on Sungmin, but Sungmin refuses to meet the gaze.

“I can create illusions and trick people into doing what they’d never in their right minds,” he slowly says, devouring every inch of Sungmin with his eyes. Sungmin shudders and stares unseeingly at the wall opposite him. “I tricked you,” Kyuhyun adds.

Kyuhyun standing right below the buildings that were about to fall. The feeling that pulled him to where Kyuhyun was standing. The ground falling before his own feet. Were those all – “So those were all illusions,” Sungmin struggles to keep his voice down. “Even those buildings falling down?”

“That was all real, I’m afraid,” says Kyuhyun without missing a beat. “Helped by a friend you’ll meet quite soon,”

“But yes,” he adds, “Most of them were all illusions. Including the one where you saw me mouthing words to you right behind the glass separating us. I was prompting you to kill the waitress.”

Sungmin starts. “But I-I didn’t1”

For the first time in the day – or really, the first time since they’ve met – the smile disappears from Kyuhyun’s face, replaced by a frown. “Yes, you didn’t,” he agrees. “That’s the problem here, you were supposed to. But you didn’t. And as for Zhou Mi, his power didn’t work on you at all.”

They stare at each other, thinking, guessing the same thing. Sungmin finally breaks the silence. “Does that mean---” he trails off unsurely.

“It means something,” affirms Kyuhyun. “But what it means, or how harmful you’re going to be to us --- that we’ll have to find out for later.”

He gets up from his chair, pushing it back, the smirk returning to his face. “For now, though, I think you could provide me with some entertainment.”

His grasp on Sungmin’s hands tightens, nails digging into skin. Sungmin looks up to meet Kyuhyun’s dark eyes and cruel eyes, not even trying to conceal his disgust or terror. “What do you mean?” He whispers, even though he knows, or can guess full well what Kyuhyun means.

“Oh, you’ll see,” chuckles Kyuhyun, and leans forward, pulling the rope he had untied to tie Sungmin over again, despite the latter’s resistance.

“Fuck off!” cries Sungmin, pushing Kyuhyun roughly. The force manages to unsettle Kyuhyun and he falls back on the chair, but his recovery is immediate. “You’re a fiery one,” he laughs, “I like them fiery too.”

Sungmin sees two more people appear in the room out of thin air – one takes hold of his struggling hands while the other muffles his mouth. “It’s an illusion,” he says, he knows, it’s an illusion, and yet they’re so strong and so real and nothing he thinks can make them disappear.

Kyuhyun laughs. “But I can make them real,” he says, pulling off Sungmin’s pants away with one swift movement. “You may be able to nullify our powers, but you're still not quite there yet. My apologies.”

Kyuhyun leaves the room hours later. Sungmin bites his lips till they bleed, his shoulders still shaking and hurting all over, and manages to cry himself to sleep.

* * *

He sleeps for the entire day, and he’s already woken up hours before he actually opens his eyes. As he lies there, he listens to the birds chirp and the sounds of the early morning seeping through and tries to forget about everything that happened before. It’s a bad dream, he tries to convince himself, a nightmare.

And yet his body aches with the tell-tale signs, and his mind aches from having gone through so much stress. It’s strange, he tells himself over and over again, unbelievable. This could never really happen.

“Wake up,” says a voice, pushing his shoulder gently. Sungmin recognizes the voice – it’s not Kyuhyun – and blinks open his eyes. Zhou Mi stares back at him, a plate filled with food in his hand and a glass of water in the other. Sungmin almost laughs out loud when he sees the concern in those eyes, but stops himself, moves with much difficulty into a sitting position and snatches the plate and water instead, gulping both down furiously.

Zhou Mi stares at him for a little while longer, then sits down in the seat, his eyes never leaving the other. As Sungmin finishes eating, his hunger satiated, he calms a little, prompting Zhou Mi to ask, “Are you alright?”

Sungmin raises an eyebrow and feels like laughing so hard. “What do you think?”

Zhou Mi just gazes at him. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, after what seems like a long silence.

Sungmin glares at him. “Why are you sorry? You don’t need to be,” he says, looking away and addressing the empty space in front of him.

Zhou Mi doesn’t reply, instead touching his shoulder. Sungmin jumps back, but Zhou Mi further takes his hand in his own, ignoring Sungmin’s attempts to let free. “You know,” he says to the empty space as well, “You’re lucky.”

“How exactly?” Sungmin snorts. “Enlighten me, because I don’t exactly see any luck in my situation.”

“Kui Xian has never wanted me,” Zhou Mi steadfastly looks at the wall. “He’s never desired-”

“It’s not a fucking badge of pride! I hated every moment of it!” It hurts Sungmin, but he continues. “How dare he treat me like a fucking whore?” Sungmin bites the cut on his lip once more, ignoring the pain. “If you want him so much, you can have him!”

“Sungmin, please!” Zhou Mi turns back to him. “Don’t – he doesn’t – he didn’t mean to hurt you-”

Sungmin laughs derisively. “Do you love him so much that you can’t even see his faults?”

“I love him,” accepts Zhou Mi, “I love him so much, and I want him, but his feelings for me don’t seem to be the same.”

Sungmin throws the plate on the floor and Zhou Mi flinches at the noise. “He’s a monster; he’ll never be able to love anyone.”

Zhou Mi still doesn’t leave Sungmin’s hands, and Sungmin looks at the two hands, clasping each other, his expression softening.

“You’re too good for him,” he says slowly.

He looks up and sees Zhou Mi smile through the tears brimming in his eyes. Then he’s in the other man’s embrace, crying into his shoulder the tears that wouldn’t fall the night before, relieving himself of those pent-up emotions.

And this is how he forms the unlikeliest of friendships with the same Zhou Mi who once tried to kill him without any hesitation. Zhou Mi’s a tall, awkward Chinese man with a smile that can sway thousands and a touch that can kill many more. Zhou Mi brings him the food and water, ties him up with rope when they’re gone, loosens the same ropes when they’re back, and helps Sungmin lessen the pain when Kyuhyun’s fucked him – even as his own pain grows.

Sungmin notices this, and takes it up one day. They’re apparently alone in the house, and it’s as if an opportunity has presented itself. “You should tell him,” says Sungmin, minutes after they’re sitting in silence.

“Tell him what?”

“That you love him,”

Zhou Mi laughs harshly. “Weren’t you the one who once told me that he’ll never be able to love anyone?”

“That doesn’t mean-”

“Well, it’s completely true,” adds Zhou Mi. “So I’m sorry, but he’s probably going to have to fuck you a little while longer,” He sees Sungmin’s expression change and hastens to add, “I meant –”

Sungmin raises his hand and laughs shortly. “I know what you mean.” He pretends to think for a while, letting silence prevail between them, and then says, “Zhou Mi, what if I run away?”

He sees the shocked expression on Zhou Mi’s face. “Think about it, if I go away then he’ll be left with no one else,”

Zhou Mi flat out laughs at him. “Sungmin, he’s never had a lack of whores, if that’s what you mean.”

“But-”

“If you want to run away, you could just ask me.”

Sungmin stares at him for a moment or two. “What?”

“You don’t think I’m that gullible, do you?” Zhou Mi grins. “Why didn’t you just ask me to let you escape?”

His heart skips a beat, and for the first time in what seems like eternity Sungmin feels a semblance of hope. “Are you sure?” He asks, eyeing Zhou Mi curiously. “Would you let me run away?”

“Do you trust me?”

Sungmin gives him a glance, thinking about the question, even though the answer is ready in his mind. He debates for a moment, then decides to side with honesty. “No,” he replies.

Zhou Mi laughs loudly and deeply. “I thought as much,” he agrees, then adds, “I don’t trust you either.”

“Yes, you’d trust Kyuhyun with your life, whereas I’m nowhere near that. Which makes me wonder why you’d let me run away,”

Zhou Mi eyes him for a while, letting out a sigh. He laces his hand with Sungmin’s and seems to be choosing his words carefully. “I don’t like seeing you get hurt,” he says to those hands, “In fact, I don’t like seeing people get hurt. Especially because of Kui Xian,”

“Then why do you let him kill all those people?” Zhou Mi’s words don’t make sense to Sungmin at all. Zhou Mi looks at him desperately, trying to make him understand.

“I don’t like it, but I can’t help it! I love Kui Xian – I’ve loved him ever since we were children, and I’d do anything for him,” he says. “But sometimes, if I can help it, I’m willing to break those rules.”

“Despite the danger you’ll be in?”

“He’ll never hurt me, ever,” says Zhou Mi, the sincerity in his voice startling Sungmin. “I know that for sure.”

Sungmin looks at him one final time, waiting for the confirmation. “Are you really,” he takes a deep breath, “letting me free?”

Zhou Mi nods in affirmation, a small smile spreading on his face. “Just don’t get caught,” he warns.

* * *

Sungmin takes all the bare essentials he may need – water, food and a map that Zhou Mi provides him with, and with one last hug of thanks he gives to Zhou Mi, and one last look at the godforsaken place, he sets off. The house, he notices with a start, is near a field and quite close to the main road. His town is twenty miles away, he remembers Kyuhyun saying and the map affirms this as much, but he takes this fact in his stride and starts walking, the taste of freedom sweet in his mouth.

‘God’s men’, he remembers those words as he walks. He wonders about the powers, the destruction they’ve caused, but skirts around the issue of his own power. It seems fiction to him, this power of his.

Or maybe he does have one – but he refuses to associate with those men. There’s a world of difference between him and that Kyuhyun – he realizes that it’s easier to think about that man, now that they’re no longer connected to each other – and it doesn’t have to do just with the choice.

There’s a part of him that does wonder why Kyuhyun and his men choose to do such acts. But he’ll probably never know. And all the better for it.

“…I’m sure you’ll come to know that soon. That is, if I let you live long enough.”

He’s proven those then-prophetic words wrong, realizes Sungmin.

But the question keeps nagging him – has he, really?

He’s walked two miles before he starts feeling hungry. There doesn’t seem to be any sign of human habitation though, and he’s forced to walk another mile before he gives up, the tireless heat contributing to his early exit. He chooses a nice, shady tree and settles down on the ground below it, opening up the wrapping of a sandwich Zhou Mi had carefully packed for him.

As he bites into it, leaning against the trunk of the tree, his mind goes back to the days before all this ever happened, when he used to be a reporter. It seems like such a long time ago, he laughs to himself. He wonders what his editor is doing right now, if he’s asking “Where’s that Sungmin gone to now?” or if he’s busy tackling the crisis in the city, or if he’s dead.

The last thought startles him and he shakes it away. As much as he’s hated his old boss, as much as he’s wished him dead, he never means those things. In the light of recent events, death seems so raw and real and hurtful – the last deaths he knew was his parents’, in a car crash, when he was too young to have even understood the gravity of the situation, as hurtful as it felt later on – that he actually apologizes to his conscience for having even thought such things.

A bicyclist weaves through the road, shaking him from his reverie. Sungmin looks at him in wonder – that’s the first sign of humanity he’s seen since his journey started – and waves to the person, a stout man with a dusky complexion, seemingly young.

“Hey,” the man shouts back, noticing Sungmin, “fancy seeing you on a lonely road like this!”

Sungmin laughs and calls back, “I’m just hiking through!” A sudden feeling of generosity washes over him, and he adds, “Would you like some food?” He immediately cringes at those words – it isn’t like every traveler would be hungry.

Surprisingly, the man is. “Sure,” he says, and rides the bike to the side of the road, parking it near a tree.

“Those look tasty,” he says, walking over to where Sungmin sits. “Mind if I have one?”

Sungmin offers up a sandwich. “Of course not,” he says. The man takes it and bites into it, sitting down as he does. “I’m heading towards the town on an errand. Jeez, I left five hours ago but it feels like ages since I’ve had any real food,” He laughs, mouth going up and down. Sungmin looks away in mild disgust but the man doesn’t seem to notice.

“Hey, these are really good! Seems like your significant other made those,” he laughs.

As obnoxious as it feels, Sungmin generously laughs with him. “No, no,” he adds quickly, “Just a friend of mine.”

“And-” says the man lightly, and Sungmin listens, although his mind feels a little hazy and he’d rather not. “Would that friend be named,” he trails off, even as Sungmin feels like leaning against the trunk and closing his eyes. “Perhaps,” starts the man again, and Sungmin nods and nods and almost doesn’t hear the last words uttered – “Zhou Mi?”

Sungmin passes out instantly.

The last thing he sees before slipping into unconsciousness is those two cruel grey eyes that he has come to know so well.

---

my incredibly original-sounding titles, aren't you jealous of them?
Part 2 hopefully coming soon? asdf i don't know. /dies from lack of sleep and internet

so this is supposed to be a fanfiction journal but---

Sun, 20 Sep 2009 05:15:43 GMT

SCREAMS FOREVER AM I WRITING SOMETHING BASED ON THIS OF COURSE I'M WRITING SOMETHING BASED ON THIS.

;_____________________________;

[Shindong-centric] The Candy Shop Owner

Sat, 19 Sep 2009 18:10:03 GMT

Title: The Candy Shop Owner
Rating: G
Summary: Shindong thinks he has the best job in the world.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.

Shindong becomes the local candy-shop-owner-guy (as he likes to call himself) three hours after he officially has his college degree in hand, the keys to his father’s tiny little shop fitting snugly in his hand as he looks up at it and grins with contentment. It’s terrible on the inside, though, and he works his ass off on redecorating it; even enlisting his friends in the process (“You’re paying me for this, right?” asks Heechul, while Leeteuk stares at the mess and exhales deeply). A week later, he gazes proudly at the interiors, then steps back and looks at the board tacked on, and sighs.

‘Happy Candy Shop’ says the bold pink letters, and he curses Leeteuk as much as he can.

Shindong becomes the popular local candy-shop-owner-guy only a week later, and quite unwittingly at that. A short twelve year old boy with a crew cut (what were his parents thinking, wonders Shindong idly, as he strokes his own mushroom cut) manages to wheedle out a five dollar candy from him and then proceeds to inform his classmates (and thereby his school) how he ‘won’ his tasty treat. It’s a loss of five dollars and Shindong doesn’t mind exchanging it for the wonderful smile that lights up the kid’s face.

Plus, it gains him a lot of popularity too. Twenty days later kids of various shapes and sizes are milling around his shop - some looking at the candy in wonder, others bargaining for lesser prices, and he laughs and sighs and lets them buy it for half the price and brings more candy to look at, and gives one to the little girl who looks longingly at him, just because. She gives a toothy smile, and her eyes crinkle, as she brightly introduces herself, “Tiffany!” into his ear and quickly pecks him on the cheek while he’s bending to hear her better.

He laughs back and thinks to himself, I couldn’t have had a better job.

A month later and Shindong’s shop is famous not only for the candies, but for the “really nice” owner too. He’s told this by the new kid in town, shy and tiny, with his dark hair mussed and long and obviously overwhelmed by everything around him. On his first visit he’s pushed into the shop by one of Shindong’s regular customers - a thin, lanky boy who speaks less but seems to be popular nevertheless (“Kyuhyun.” He overhears the kid being called). Shindong remembers watching in amusement as the boy tugs the kid around to see the candy, even as the new kid looks at him in awe.

“I’m Sungmin,” he says unsurely to the owner when prompted by the other kid, and he giggles a little, and Shindong feels like patting him on his head. But the other boy leaves him no such chance, takes him away as soon as they’ve made introductions - hand clasping around fist firmly - and Shindong’s amusement grows as the boy hands him the expensive candy he bought insistently, even as the new kid blushes and refuses.

He remembers feeling fond, and maybe even strangely nostalgic. (it reminds him of those days, and that Kim Kibum-)

The new kid – Sungmin – becomes a regular from then onwards, and Shindong catches him every single day either staring longingly at the glass cabinet or dragging in Kyuhyun (their roles reversed, notices Shindong) to buy some bars when he has the money. He and the kid get along well, and he doesn’t mind the company, or the banter that happens. He’s quite glad for it to be quite honest. It’s reached the point where Shindong muses that he’d be real good friends with the kid only if he were some ten years older.

He has fun with all the kids, actually, and he laughingly tells Heechul over the phone that he has the best job in the world.

“Oh, fuck you,” says Heechul, an intern at a law firm who earns more in a week than what Shindong earns in a month, and proceeds to tell him about the gory details of his own tedious job.

This happens exactly a month before the day Shindong sits at the back of the shop and covers his face in his hands in despair. The glass cabinets remain broken and the drawers remain pulled out and the money is lost and everywhere the police move about, but all he can do is sit and feel sorry for his own self. He doesn’t cry though, it’s not like him, but the loss feels great.

He feels a gentle tap on his shoulder and looks up. It’s the two kids, and he manages to crack a smile for them.

“Mister?” Kyuhyun starts slowly, and continues when Shindong nods for him to go on. “We wanted to give you this,” he says, and holds out a huge candy bar.

“We’re sorry we couldn’t get you anything more useful,” says Sungmin, and he smiles sadly, flexing his fingers uncontrollably. “But if you need any of our help-”

He trails off and his eyes widen in fear as he sees the tears fall down Shindong’s face, and he reflexively steps back. His voice shakes. “I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to-”

In the five seconds that Shindong takes to envelop both of them in a hug he feels somewhat terrible for burdening them with his selfishness. Yet, at the same time, he feels so proud and so happy and so many other emotions that he can’t even register properly. His hug tightens, even as he whispers “Thank you,” over their heads so that they don’t worry, and feels them relax into the embrace, and he almost doesn’t realize it when there’s another pair of hands around his neck.

“Mister, we’ll help you too!” breathes someone into his ear, and he looks up through his tears to see Tiffany, and then the boy with the crew cut has his tiny hands around his arm, and that little girl who can sing so well comes too, and the chinese boy, and the little kid who calls himself a fish and his best friend, they try to wrap their hands around his waist, and he can’t help but let his tears fall more, even as the smile on his face widens more than it possibly can.

The people in the shop look at the strange sight – fifteen kids clinging to an overweight candy shop owner who has tears running down his cheek – and they probably don’t understand.

But Shindong does. So he laughs and stops crying and thanks the children, thinking, knowing that he has the best job in the universe.

---

kind of based off a drabble i wrote on the prompt '75% off candy' from the random pairing generator which i accidentally deleted and uhh idk.
why am i so productive lately (a thousand words is productive, dontcha know?). it is such a mystery.

(ninja!kyumin but well they're just kids)

[Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi] Of Dreams and Reality

Sat, 19 Sep 2009 13:40:44 GMT

Title: Of Dreams and Reality
Rating: G
Summary: Not everything happens as you want it to.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.
Notes: drabble. in which word screams at me over and over again, "fragment, you little moron!" but i do not seem to care. vague-ish and self-indulgent and generally very D:

“Hey,” says Zhou Mi one day, weaving through the crowd to where Kyuhyun sits, and then he finally sums up the courage to press his lips to Kyuhyun’s gently, just like that, without warning. “Hey,” he says again, softly this time, and leans back a bit. He curls his fingers back into a fist, nails digging into his palm as he sees the reaction. The eyes stare at him for a long time, but the words take forever to tumble out.

He nods in understanding and bows in apology, then turns away and walks off, shoulders trembling just slightly.

“Hey,” he hears, and breaks into a run he wasn’t sure he was capable of, seeing as how his limbs threaten to give up on him and fall to the ground instead, where it will hurt less and feel less. But it’s seems easy to get across the hallway and into the room and only when he’s in the room, with the door shut behind, that he agrees with his legs.

And as he leans against the door, he dreams of kissing Kyuhyun softly, maybe making love, their gentle hugs, or maybe hands entwined, and he keeps dreaming.

Of them lying on the dewy grass in the mornings and looking at the sky, their hearts one. Of them mucking about with each other, laughter everywhere, and them laughing like they’ve never before, until tears come to the eyes. Of them making love, in the bed, on the sturdy wooden desk, in the restroom, everywhere.

He closes his eyes and sees the mild disgust, the embarrassment, the confusion, the helplessness so vividly.

His chest hurts and he puts an arm over, even as the knocking on the door never seems to cease.

“Let’s run away together to somewhere far away, where nobody will know us,” he thinks he hears in his mind.

“You and me-”

“Let’s be together for the rest of our lives,”

He brushes a hand against his eyes and stops thinking and looks at the wall instead.

[Donghae/Jessica] No One But You

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 15:31:47 GMT

Title: No One But You
Rating: G
Summary: He's only ever reminded of her.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.
Notes: Based on the SJ-M MV, 'chyeah.

The girl doing his hair gently weaves the comb through his tangled hair, laughing a bit as he protests in frustration and mumbles a quick apology. Her features are light and pretty, her eyes large and expressive, and her mouth easily curves into a smile, revealing a hint of perfect teeth. She catches him scrutinizing her intensely in the mirror and covers her mouth with a hand to muffle her laughter, and he has a sudden urge to take hold of those fingers and pull her closer to him. But the moment passes as soon as it came; he only blushes red and refuses to meet her eyes anymore.

She steps back, mischievously patting his head as he cocks his head to the side and admires himself. Her teasing words reach his ears and he laughs a little, a retort at his lips. He watches as her eyes crinkle and her shoulders shake with laughter, even as she gives him a playful push, leaving him with a short good-bye as she moves towards another member waiting to get their hair done. Then he closes his eyes and tries to memorize the beautiful chestnut brown hair, the tight shirt complimenting her curves and the low-cut jeans hugging her waist.

He opens his eyes as she calls out, "Oppa," and his breath catches as she turns to give him a playful - flirtatious even - wink.

She reminds him so much of her.

* * *

The choreographer’s moves are deft and he watches in amazement as she shows him the step – hand to the left, foot to the right, a small kick there – and then she snaps her fingers in frustration and he wakes up from his reverie. He bows in apology and her frown softens, and he quickly mumbles a little joke which succeeds in lightening her up.

“I can’t blame you for getting distracted, I’m too pretty,” she jokes, and he laughingly agrees with her, even as they move onto the next step. Her eyes twinkle and although she seems to be concentrating on her move, he can catch that glimpse of smile on her face.

He smiles to himself and watches her intently, then copies the move and rejoices as she glances at him, clearly impressed. It prompts him to mess the next step, however, and he keels in exaggerated humiliation as she laughs out loud. She pulls at his arm to get his attention and he watches her as she perfectly executes the move, an added flourish at the end, her eyes blinking at him in concentration as if they’re asking him, do you understand?

He nods and then proceeds to do it just as perfectly. She smiles widely, her face brightening immediately, and laughs to show her approval. He gives her a wide bow in turn and she plays along, laughingly giving him a ninety degree bow before the director calls her out.

He sighs. It’s scary how her actions are reminiscent of her.

* * *

The young girl flicks a loose strand of her hair back, and he allows himself some amusement at her expense as she rushes around, helping set up the decorations on set. She catches his smirk and pouts in annoyance, her eyes betraying her with their own amusement, as she makes her way to where he stands. Unexpectedly, she pulls at his hand and attempts to drag him and get him to help, but he guesses her intentions correctly and resists.

“Please?” she begs, impatiently flicking back a few more strands, her pout growing as the attempt turns futile and more hair falls across her face. “Ugh!” she cries out in exasperation, grabbing her hair with both hands, and he gives in to the temptation and laughs at her. She turns her pout to him and his muffles reduce a little, and as an apology he gives in to her demand – but only for a few minutes, he tells her, and she nods, pretending to listen to him.

He follows her anyway, and hands out the decorations, and laughs at her as she yells at everyone who’s helping out. He then escapes to the back of the other room where Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi are standing as she chases after him, her cries mingling with his laughter until they become one. He puts an arm against the wall and bends, clutching his stomach as the laughter begins to hurt. There’s a tap on his shoulder, and a playful “Caught you!” and he almost gasps, almost says her name, it’s her right there-

But then he catches himself.

Because that isn’t her.

No, she’s the one who’s entered the room now, her cheeks puffed, her eyelashes lowered, her beautiful hair tucked behind the ears, and a sweet smile gracing her face. He looks at her, and notices the other girl noticing his gaze and ignores her - because, he realizes with a sigh, she isn’t her.

No one can have that beautiful smile that makes his heart skip a beat; no one can have the silliness that always makes him laugh; no one can make him fall in love so fast, so hard, so much.

He realizes this with a pang, and looks at her all the same. She feels his eyes on hers and turns to him, looks at him and then smiles, and he can almost feel the effort she puts into it. And he smiles back, with just as much effort, his eyes burning and his chest hurting and his mind thinking about nothing but her.

“I love you,” he breathes into the space between them.

---

edited :))) dies recyling this as an early!birthday fic for donghae (hear me hate you, writer's block).

[Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi/Sungmin] The Pot's Good

Mon, 14 Sep 2009 06:05:27 GMT

Title: The Pot's Good
Rating: G-PGish? idk
Summary: Kyuhyun teaches Sungmin and Zhou Mi the right way to play strip poker.
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.

“I fold,” says Zhou Mi, throwing his cards onto the table with a sigh and pushing back in his seat. The statement reduces Sungmin into a fit of giggles and Kyuhyun to smirk widely, but he ignores the two anyway and chooses instead to cross his arms in displeasure.

“Come on,” says Sungmin, glancing at his own worthless cards. “This is just the second bet and you’re already folding?”

“Wow, you’re really unlucky,” comments Kyuhyun as he helps unbutton Zhou Mi’s shirt and then throws it into the pile of clothes lying on the floor. Zhou Mi’s hands immediately rise in an attempt to hide his chest and although he blushes pink when Kyuhyun offhandedly tells him, “It’s nothing we haven’t seen before,” he refuses to put them down.

Instead, he announces spitefully, “I hate this game and I hate you both for making me play it,” and is generally ignored in favour of raising the bet.

A few minutes later Sungmin has joined him in the complaints, demanding Kyuhyun to reveal his very obvious cheating tactics, even as Kyuhyun sweeps the table (“for the fifth time in a row!” cries Sungmin) and grins lazily at the two.

“Your pants, Sungmin,” he says, and Sungmin reluctantly complies, sitting back with only his pink boxers on now, and shooting a deadly glare in Zhou Mi’s direction, who is snickering loudly.

“I don’t understand Kui Xian,” says Zhou Mi, having lost the sixth game now (“And no, I’m not taking off the boxers, thank you.” He pulls up his boxers, just in case), “I’m better than you at normal poker-“

“Yeah, Kui Xian, aren’t you supposed to be good only at computer games?” asks Sungmin.

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Kyuhyun replies without skipping a beat. Sungmin and Zhou Mi exchange equally scandalized looks, but before they can demand an explanation, the door opens and Eunhyuk stumbles in.

“Sungmin, I need to borrow your laptop, Donghae stole mine again and-” He stops, stares, and his mouth falls wide open. “Uh,” he starts unintelligently, eyes widening as they travel from Sungmin’s half-naked body to Zhou Mi’s to the clothes lying scattered on the floor. “I-uh,” he starts again, this time addressing Kyuhyun, the only fully-dressed person in the room other than him (well, except for a tie thrown on the floor). “I-I’ll pretend I never saw this, okay?” He’s out of the room before they can even reply, dashing as fast as he can to pure, innocent Ryeowook’s room.

The three stare at the door, and then at each other.

“Well,” says Kyuhyun, “so when do I get to see your boxers off?”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
D: i suck at summaries. eek, why is this so short?

[Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi] The Chronicles of A Nanny

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 09:28:57 GMT

Title: The Chronicles of a Nanny
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Super Junior does not belong to me.
Notes: AU. Zhou Mi is a nanny. IDK.

After having shepherded countless nephews and nieces, Zhou Mi starts to believe that being a nanny is his calling. So as soon as he leaves college and enters the wide world, a useless degree in Korean in hand, he registers at an agency (to the tepid approval of his family, who never really expected any less from him).

The call comes just a day after, and he takes it eagerly. "He's a young boy, and they're looking for a well-educated, young, male nanny to look after him," says the person from the agency while giving the details. An excited Zhou Mi practically yells his yes into the phone, along with a multitude of thank yous and i'll do my bests, until he hears the tone beep on the other hand.

Finally, he thinks, money. (And children, of course, children, he's in it for the children too).

Money there is - lots and lots, from the looks of it. His face gives way to a goofy grin as he looks up across the huge grey entrance to the palatial house inside. It's a fucking mini-castle, like the ones he sees in those documentaries on TV, except it's real and exists in Korea even and he'll be working here. It's majestic in appearance - gloomy, slightly, but that Zhou Mi can take care of.

It still kind of scares him, so he stands there and studies the house from afar while shuffling his feet self-consciously, his guts failing him at this appropriate time. That's where the speaker on the side of the gate enters. "Are you Mr. Zhou Mi?" are the scratchy words that come out from it and Zhou Mi jumps back, startled. "Er, yes," he says loudly back into it, mystified at how they knew he was there.

No time to ponder on that. "Please come in," replies the voice and the gates open slowly. Despite being incredibly creeped out by this, he has to give it to them - this is a very fine house. The voice in his mind approves, squeaking 'Rich! Rich!' over and over again until he gives in and grins widely. Finally losing all the fear, he strides inside once the gates are fully open, shooting an admiring glance the beautifully kept lawns as he knocks on the door. It's opened, by a butler no less, who bows stiffly and directs Zhou Mi to follow after him, not even considering him with a glance. (which Zhou Mi attributes to the fact that he's dressed really casual - a yellow t-shirt and blue jeans, hey, he hadn't been told about any dress code)

He takes a step inside and regrets it immediately - he feels like a piece of furniture compared to the gorgeous interiors, monotone in colour, yet perfectly fitting. It's carefully furnished, with luxurious items Zhou Mi can only dream of, and various portraits hung from the wall. The butler fits perfectly into this painting while Zhou Mi swallows and awkwardly follows him. He gets the feeling that he isn't supposed to be here. He ignores it.

They go into a room, just as spectacular as the living room they just walked through, and probably bigger than Zhou Mi's lousy two bedroom apartment. A well-dressed lady, her hair greying with old age and elegant in her appearance, sits on the sofa right across from them. She petulantly raises her eyes from the newspaper she is studying and takes in his appearance from head to toe. Zhou Mi waits with bated breath, but it - what, exactly? He doesn't know; he just expects something from her - never comes. "Take him to Kyuhyun," her voice rises, and the butler nods in confirmation.

Zhou Mi exhales once out of the room, his nerves relaxing, and he cheerfully follows the butler on to "Kyuhyun's" room, hoping for a fat cute kid who is eager and playful and will love him as soon as he sees him.

He steps in and almost faints into the arms of the butler. The kid is not fat and not very eager looking and, well, playful he doesn't know but he certainly doesn't love Zhou Mi and --- the kid is not a kid.

No, it's a full grown adult who has passed puberty ages ago and is probably in his twenties right now that sits before him, furiously playing on his PS.

Zhou Mi's eyes travel from Kyuhyun to the butler and he almost asks, is this a joke? The butler - smart guy, Zhou Mi approves - guesses his question anyway and shakes his head and makes his escape - fucking coward, Zhou Mi grits - leaving him there, alone, with "the kid" who is not actually a kid.

Said kid looks up at the interruption standing in front of him, gives him a cursory glance, then yells, "Mom, you've let your boyfriend inside again." Then he turns back to what is probably a very interesting game, no change in expression.

"Er," says Zhou Mi, compelled to correct, "I'm actually...your nanny?" Nanny to a boy in his twenties, yeah. He stands there, confused and hurt and trying to remember all those Korean classes because he's sure he may just lapse into his native chinese anytime soon with his mind hurting and having so much to process and all.

Kyuhyun snorts and stares at him in disbelief, which mirrors Zhou Mi's expression. "Are you serious? You can't be serious."

"But I am serious!" cries the nanny, throwing his arms weakly. "At least I think I am."

"But I'm twenty one!" He shakes his head. "I can't believe that woman, is she sane?"

Zhou Mi debates whether to answer that question or not, since he's the stranger here but the temptation to yell yes is too much, but maybe this is one of those trick questions where you're not supposed to answer because it is kind of obvious?

Thankfully, there's someone else to help out with that. "No she isn't," deadpans another voice, and Zhou Mi tilts up his head to come face to face with a young woman. "I'm Cho Ahra, the kid's sister," she introduces herself to him, the corners of her lips crinkling into a wide smile. "Nice to meet you,"

Kyuhyun ignores this completely. "Who does she think I am, a ten year old that can't take care of himself?" Before his sister can open her mouth however, he cuts her off, adding defensively, "And I can take care of myself."

To which Ahra can only sigh. "Oh Kyu, honestly... even though I don't want to, I kind of have to agree with her. You do need a nanny to take care of you. I mean, look at yourself! And you know both of us are leaving tomorrow. I doubt you'd be able to take care of yourself without us around." Zhou Mi has clocked ten minutes in the room and he still gets her point.

Kyuhyun stubbornly persists. "I'm not a ten year old that I need a nanny," he states, abruptly turning to the game and signaling the end of their conversation.

Ahra sighs, and feeling a tad bit sorry for her Zhou Mi takes his chance. "Zhou Mi, nice to meet you too," he resumes their conversation, and she looks up at him, startled. Then that smile, wide and stretching across her face, returns, and he can't help but do the same. "I'm sorry that you have to deal with this," she tells him, "But we're ready to pay you as much as you want. I just want you to stay with us." she smiles, like she's trusting him with her life, which he guesses may actually be the case.

He beams at her, his life complete.

Except for the slight inconvenience, but he brushes that off with a very hopeful, so what if I'm the nanny of a full grown adult? Money can heal everything. He truly believes it.

And so, once Ahra leaves, he starts brightly, "So, how about we get to know each other first?"

"How about no?" Kyuhyun doesn't even look up from the game.

Zhou Mi flinches like he's been hurt, and stares at Kyuhyun helplessly. That day, he learns one very important lesson - that money can heal everything, but it certainly doesn't make them easier.

* * *

Several unproductive days later - which include many failed attempts by Zhou Mi to break the ice, a squabble on whether Kyuhyun should be allowed to play games (Zhou Mi's the nanny, he's allowed to boss around the kids - or so he thinks, but then again Kyuhyun isn't a kid) and a fight over ice-cream rights - Zhou Mi still refuses to accept defeat anytime, his fists tightening with a resolve he never knew he had. Kyuhyun too is unwilling to give up, or maybe he just doesn't care, but either way none of them let go of this tug-of-war for supremacy they're having.

They finally settle into a routine - Kyuhyun gets up in the morning, Zhou Mi does his bed, Kyuhyun brushes his teeth and showers, Zhou Mi cooks the breakfast, Kyuhyun plays games all day, Zhou Mi sits on the bed and watches him and falls asleep somewhere in between. The latter does get the pay, of course, but it irks him, since he likes to earn money for actual work.

"I'd like to earn money for actual work, dammit," he says to no one in particular, since Kyuhyun is too busy focused on his game to pay him any attention. But as he learns, this is one of those days where he underestimates Kyuhyun and his ability to multi-task and actually converse when deemed worthy.

"You mean," he says, incredulity apparent, "you want to work?"

"Yes Kyuhyun," sighs Zhou Mi, "I do want to work. I do want to earn my money, instead of getting it without an inch of work as I am right now."

Kyuhyun snorts and turns back to his game. "You're one weird guy."

This false accusation makes Zhou Mi flare up. "You wouldn't understand," he bites back, "you've never had to work for your money. I, on the other hand, have always had to, and this current setting makes me very uncomfortable because it isn't right."

It works; or at least it makes Kyuhyun look up at him once again, but the frown on his face scares Zhou Mi a bit. "I'm sorry for being born into a rich family," he replies in a cutting tone. Zhou Mi looks at him, panicking, because that really wasn't what he had meant to imply. "I mean --- I'm not saying that it's wrong, but!" He almost cries in despair. "I just, you know, want to have a right to this money," Times like these make Zhou Mi realize the inadequacy of the Korean language - or perhaps his knowledge of Korean, whichever applies better.

Thankfully, Kyuhyun lets it go. "So what do you want to do?" He asks finally after an awkward silence, his voice softer now. Zhou Mi's confused expression shows, and he hastens to add, "You know, so you can earn this money 'rightfully'?" He moves to put his game away, and Zhou Mi gapes.

"I-I," he says, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, having been caught unawares like this. His eyes wander around the room and settle upon the clock, which reads 11 PM, and he immediately suggests, "How about I read you a bed-time story?"

Kyuhyun flat out laughs at this, but Zhou Mi persists - this isn't a bad idea, plus, isn't this what nannies do? After a minute of silence in which Kyuhyun gives him a look and Zhou Mi staunchly meets his gaze, he finally relents. "Bed-time story it is," he mutters, along with a host of other things (which sound suspiciously like 'what the fuck?' and 'I'm really turning into a ten year old').

As per tradition, Kyuhyun is pushed unceremoniously onto the bed, with Zhou Mi sitting on his side. The nanny closes his eyes, thinking, searching for a good story -

"Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a girl called Goldilocks-" Here there's a series of coughs from Kyuhyun, but Zhou Mi frowns and continues, "Well, she was called Goldilocks because she had golden locks. And she was a very naughty girl. One day she was walking inside a forest because, er, she had some things to do. While on the path, she came across a big house, and why are you laughing?"

But Kyuhyun doesn't bother to answer him; he's too busy doubling over laughing. Zhou Mi pouts and crosses his arms and thinks he doesn't deserve such a reaction. Kyuhyun looks at him and his laughter smoothes into small chuckles as he reaches over and in a surprise move pats Zhou Mi's head. "Just don't - don't ever," he pleads, and Zhou Mi doesn't know how to behave - act surprised and a little happy because Kyuhyun is finally acting like a real human being? Or be very annoyed because the kid's acting like a douche?

He settles for the latter. He uncrosses his arms and hmphs, turning his face to the side. "I tried my best, and this is what I get?"

Kyuhyun presses to his side, leaning on one hand and raising his head slightly so he's breathing just above Zhou Mi's stomach. "Don't try again," he says. Zhou Mi blushes lightly, feeling the warm breath skim the exposed skin of his stomach where his shirt turns up slightly.

Unfortunately for him, Kyuhyun notices this. His lips curve upward into a devilish smirk in the silence left behind. "Zhou Mi," he breathes again, and Zhou Mi tries hard not to shudder, "Zhou Mi," he teases once more, and the latter shifts slightly.

"Are you turned on by me?"

Zhou Mi is immediately off the bed, backing away a few feet, and he almost screams girlishly, "Of course not!" when he sees the look on Kyuhyun's face, realization dawning on him. Oh. Ohhh. "Fuck you," he says angrily instead, but the moment those words leave his lips he regrets them.

"Oh really?" Kyuhyun, that aggravating, obnoxious brat, regards him thoughtfully. "I guessed as much,"

Zhou Mi spits out, "Stop deluding yourself," Brat, he adds to himself. Brat, brat, brat. He decides that he's had enough and stomps out, refusing to look at Kyuhyun.

Well, one look wouldn't hurt, would it? He turns back and that ---

That fucking brat winks at him.

Zhou Mi dies a little that day, and resolves never to read bed-time stories again.

Kyuhyun, on the other hand, finds a new pastime - teasing Zhou Mi. It starts from not-so-innocent touches to very suggestive talk to actual winking and Zhou Mi pleads sexual harassment and his hate for Kyuhyun grows day-by-day --- just as much as, he hates to admit, his increasing attraction. It's not helped by the fact that Kyuhyun is very good-looking already. Zhou Mi is torn between his desire to quit the job, or at least to go back to what they were before that night, and the good money that he is getting ('rightfully', yes). And, well --- fine, he gives in, there's this thing about Kyuhyun that makes him want to stay as well.

Kyuhyun knows that all too well and being the manipulative guy that he is, exploits it as much as he can.

Like that day, when Zhou Mi is cleaning his room for no apparent reason - "Look at you," he huffs, "All the things are strewn around and it looks so messy!" - and he comes out after taking his bath, towel hanging low on the hips, singing some old sappy love song, and Zhou Mi looks up, and looks and looks and looks -

"Do I have something on me?" asks Kyuhyun, raising his eyebrows quizzically.

Zhou Mi bites his lips and says, "No, nothing," and then cries inwardly while making a quick dash to the safe recesses of the living room.

Then there's that other time, where Kyuhyun is licking his ice-cream, and Zhou Mi has to say I'm the nanny, I'm the nanny over and over in his mind to stop himself from going there and snatching that godforsaken ice-cream and doing what he wanted to do, which was - he gulps and leaves that train of thought entirely.

"Will you stop it already?" says Zhou Mi in defeat one day, as he comes to the kitchen and sees Kyuhyun already there, leaning on the counter with a blue apron tied around him, doing something with what suspiciously looks like flour.

"What, hyung?" asks Kyuhyun, turning so that he faces Zhou Mi fully, a grin on his face.

"You know what," Zhou Mi says defiantly, because Kyuhyun does know what, and he's doing it on purpose for god knows what reason (Am I that fun to tease, he wonders). "Why are you doing this?" He puts his thoughts into words.

"Doing what?" The kid asks in that obnoxious, I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about-please-specify way that Zhou Mi should have become used to by now.

"Kyuhyun, please," He's almost on the verge of crying now. "Why do you ---" he stops short, then realizes that this problem has to be solved, or he won't be able to take it any longer (and neither will his libido), and continues, "Why do you keep playing with me like this?"

Kyuhyun's grin disappears that moment and Zhou Mi falters, scared by the look on his face. "I'm not playing with you," he says shortly, starting to walk towards Zhou Mi, who in turn inches back, until his back is pressed against the wall. He trembles slightly and aims for an escape, but Kyuhyun is fast and has him trapped between both his hands in an instant. "I'm very serious," his voice comes out softly this time, the distance between them closing as his breath tickles Zhou Mi's nose.

Zhou Mi takes a deep breath and stares at the acne on Kyuhyun's face and thinks, well, fuck.

* * *

Which Kyuhyun actually doesn't do until much later. They begin with stolen (forced) kisses (which Zhou Mi gives in to, more willingly than he will admit) - on the counter that day, in the hallway, on the bed (Zhou Mi stops it immediately), even in the bathroom - which progress into hands roaming under the shirt and over skin, the use of tongue, and finally, one day, Kyuhyun forces his way through Zhou Mi's pants.

But not into his heart, never, he convinces himself. He has this attraction for Kyuhyun and Kyuhyun has this very huge need for sexual gratification, so fate has brought them together to fulfill each other's needs, is how he puts it, is how he sees it. So does Kyuhyun, he figures, having never indicated otherwise. And Zhou Mi should be okay with it, really should, except he isn't - because this isn't how his relationships are supposed to be. But he acts like it's okay anyway.

So he says nothing when Kyuhyun covers him with the bed sheet afterwards, only turns to the side and pretends to be sleeping. He hears Kyuhyun sigh and maybe, probably, fall asleep, so he turns around to face him once he hears the latter's even breathing.

It's funny, he thinks, how he's come so far - from a nanny who fought with the kid over video games to the nanny who now sleeps with the kid. He snorts a bit, but then quickly muffles it, verifies that Kyuhyun is sleeping, and then in a sudden impulse strokes the hand that lies limply on Kyuhyun's side.

I think I've come to like you.

It's like the moment of truth, and Zhou Mi half-expects a spotlight to be shone on him, but even though no such thing happens, he's glad, because he's finally admitted it to himself. At least that's the plan, since he's never going to admit anything of the sort to - he breathes and gazes at the sleeping form by the side - to him.

He wakes up the next morning with Kyuhyun's arm curled around his waist, and once he glances at the clock he doesn't waste any time in pushing the younger and yelling into his ear, "Get up you brat, it's 10 am already!"

Kyuhyun flails as a disgruntled Zhou Mi throws the bed sheet at him and manages to hit him squarely in the chest with one of his hands, which results in a full-blown scuffle.

(Until the butler comes and chides them both, and Zhou Mi blushes and runs to the bathroom as fast as he can, because he's been caught naked and in bed with the guy he's supposed to look after. The butler never mentions it again though, despite the desperate-turned-confused stares Zhou Mi shoots in his direction)

* * *

Zhou Mi crosses the day off the calendar. That's an entire month since he entered this house, and fifteen days since he entered into a 'relationship'. Speaking of which, arms close around his waist, and a voice muffled into his shoulder speaks, "What're you doing now?" Zhou Mi sighs and struggles to get free, but seeing as Kyuhyun won't let him go anytime soon, replies, "Counting the days till I get out of here,"

"Why?" asks Kyuhyun, bored and just a little bit confused.

Zhou Mi purses his upper lip and refuses to continue, opting for silence instead. Not that he's allowed to do so, since it's Kyuhyun he's talking to. "Why?"

"I don't know," he chooses to say, as idle-sounding as he can, "So that I don't have to take care of you anymore?"

There's silence for a while, in which Zhou Mi chooses to bite his lip and stay still. Then come the words, "You really don't like me, huh." It's more of an accusation than a question, and those arms leave him, letting him swivel around. His eyes fall on Kyuhyun's angry, hurt expression, and a part of him wants to be angry at the guy for being so quick and unjust in accusations. Yet, another, more sensible part tells him to lie. He chooses neither.

Kyuhyun, however, takes the silence for a yes. His eyes lower dully, and his frown softens. "So that's how it is." he says quietly.

He turns around without another word and walks to the door.

And is about to exit, too, but a hand catches hold of his arm and doesn't quite let him. There's a slight pressure against his back, Zhou Mi's leaning against him, and there's another hand which entwines with his own.

"You obnoxious brat, are you done implying that I'm the one breaking your heart?" says Zhou Mi, and he puts it to pure bravado that his tears don't fall.

"Moron," chides Kyuhyun, "Of course I am."

"When you're the one whose been playing with me all along?"

Kyuhyun stands and stares, but Zhou Mi doesn't relent. "Fine," he says finally, "I was playing with you at first, but I really like you now and I can't do anything to change that."

Zhou Mi hugs him tight and never wants to let go. "That's better."

They stumble into the room, hot kisses pressed against Zhou Mi's jaw, his neck, his collarbone; one hand ghosting over the small of his back while the other feels under his shirt. They manage to get onto the bed, with Kyuhyun on top of him, kissing him deeply, and somewhere along the line his hands find Zhou Mi's pants and unzip them, tugging them down and Zhou Mi does the same. They make love, feels Zhou Mi - so clichéd but so appropriate. So perfect.

"I love you," breathes Zhou Mi into Kyuhyun's ear, even though Kyuhyun's fast asleep.

("Well," says Kyuhyun, who isn't fast asleep actually, "I thought it'd be drama like. You know, where the guy falls in love and the girl just knows, right, and they don't need to tell each other because they both know,"

Zhou Mi punches him in the arm, cuts off the cable just because he can, and refuses to talk for days.)

They now spend the days attached to the hip, because Zhou Mi isn't looking after Kyuhyun so much as Kyuhyun's looking after him. It's a free for all, and Zhou Mi doesn't mind it as much as he used to, mainly because most of his issues have been cleared up.

Or so he thinks. It's a fine, bleak normal day where the two are lying on the bed, a mass of tangled limbs. Someone pounds on the door, hard, and Zhou Mi stirs, annoyed, while Kyuhyun calls out lazily, "Who's it?"

The door is pushed open and the butler comes in. "Kyuhyun," he says urgently, and Zhou Mi takes enough time to wonder why the butler calls Kyuhyun by his first name, "Kyuhyun, hurry up, your mom's here!"

"Why is she here?" hisses Kyuhyun angrily, but the butler interrupts him with a, "Quick, get that nanny out of here or she'll kill you both!" and Kyuhyun realizes the importance of his words. The two run around in panic and Zhou Mi grabs the pair of shorts lying on the floor while Kyuhyun hurries to get into the t-shirt the butler throws at him.

"What are you doing?" They're too late.

Zhou Mi stops in his tracks and sums up the courage to face the person who said those words - the old lady, the employer, the owner of this big house. Their eyes lock and he sees her eyes darken, expression clouded with confusion, and her lips thin. He decides to stay silent, lowering his eyes in apology, so she turns to Kyuhyun instead. "What is this all about, Kyuhyun?"

"I love him," he says aggressively, and Zhou Mi looks up at him, shocked. He's never heard those words from Kyuhyun, and a warm feeling spreads over him. Yet, it's too late. He smiles sadly as the old woman, appalled, stares at the two of them. He decides to salvage whatever pride he has left, and bows in apology to her.

"I'm quitting," he says, not meeting her eyes. "Thank you for your hospitality,"

The tears sting and he hears Kyuhyun calling out to him, but he quickly walks past the lady, who only stares at him wordlessly. It's hard, but it had to happen - not that he'd expected it to happen so fast and so quickly. He blinks back the tears as he reaches the end of the stairs and gazes, for the last time around the beautiful room, hoping to imprint it in his memory.

The door latch opens and he moves down the stairs, but a hand holds him steadfastly. "Happy, now that you're finally out of here?"

Zhou Mi lets the tears fall, like he didn't when Kyuhyun was teasing him, like he didn't when he thought Kyuhyun didn't like him. It's funny, he smiles through his tears, how everything important to him goes back to Kyuhyun. "It was fun while it lasted," he says carelessly, but his trembling voice betrays him.

Kyuhyun laughs, harsh and low laugh, and Zhou Mi tries to memorize it. "We're not done yet," he says, and Zhou Mi feels like it's his turn to laugh. But Kyuhyun's serious. "I'll send Sungmin soon. Wait for me?"

Zhou Mi stares at him, confused, but then there's the butler at the door, holding his bag. Zhou Mi takes the bag and bows in thanks to the butler, to which the butler smiles back. Finally, he turns to Kyuhyun and smiles widely, brushing the tears away. "Then I guess I'll be waiting?" he says, wondering if that's ever going to be the case.

But he can still hope.

Kyuhyun smiles back and takes Zhou Mi by surprise, kissing him on the lips.

* * *

Zhou Mi wakes up late and still unemployed, hoping that the person at the door is that person who promised him a real job two days ago. It's been three weeks since the incident and Zhou Mi hates his memory, but still works hard to forget those people and concentrate on the task at hand.

Getting a job is not so easy, especially for an ex-nanny. He opens the door with an ill-concealed yawn, ready to take whatever job he's being offered. Even a part-time job, but as long as he gets some money-

His train of thought vanishes and he does a double take. It's that butler at the door, a smile at his lips as his eyes crinkle.

"Hi," he says brightly, and pushes into Zhou Mi's apartment without an invitation. Zhou Mi stares after his back as he looks around the room, commenting loudly about the messy apartment and wonders why he's here. To his credit, it hits him only a minute later.

"You're Sungmin?" He asks, incredulity apparent.

Sungmin takes in the look, huffs and says, "A month in our house and it still took you this long to know my name?"

Zhou Mi stares unabashedly, and wonders if this smiling guy is the same person that caught him and Kyuhyun in bed but never said anything about that and called Kyuhyun without any honorific and - oh. "You're close to Kyuhyun, aren't you?"

Sungmin looks at him exasperatedly. "You're a quick one, aren't you?" He shoots back with thinly-veiled sarcasm. "We've been best friends since childhood," he continues off-handedly. Zhou Mi prepares himself for a long-winding and seemingly interesting story about their friendship, but apparently Sungmin has no time for that. "This is for you," he says, and his bad mood seems to vanish as he winks at Zhou Mi and hands him a piece of neatly folded paper. "I could've just said it to you, but he wanted to be grand and write it down and all," he mumbles, more to himself than to anyone.

Zhou Mi isn't paying him attention, though, his eyes on the paper. After reading it, he looks up at Sungmin and asks, "Is he serious?"

Meet me at the park, tomorrow, 5 PM.

Zhou Mi doesn't know why it takes so much time to get ready - it's not a date, he tells himself firmly, it's just a get together with an old friend. And he doesn't need to wear that new shirt or the perfume, a birthday gift from a friend who has no sense of smell, but he does anyway. He beams into the mirror, impressed, and in a surprise move, admits to himself - it does excite him. He hasn't done a very good job at forgetting Kyuhyun (not like it's possible anyway).

All the excitement seems to filter down, however, when fifteen minutes later inside the park Zhou Mi is regretting his decision to have even come here. He has too high hopes of Kyuhyun.

It doesn't stop him from saying, "Ass," though, as he sits down on the grass and fiddles with that piece of paper he got the day before in his hand. He thinks that's a cue for two hands to magically appear around his waist, but it never happens.

Twenty minutes later, he kicks the stone and watches it hit the tree.

Thirty minutes later, Zhou Mi curls his fist, his mind blank, and makes his way towards the exit. It's ironic that they meet then - Kyuhyun panting, his hands on his knees, babbling, "Thank god I caught you,"

"I was just going to leave," says Zhou Mi quietly.

Kyuhyun doesn't even give him a second. He attacks. "I want my nanny back," he whispers into Zhou Mi's ears in a never-used cute voice, hugging the old man tightly, with his arms wrapped around the neck and legs wrapped around the waist. Zhou Mi staggers with the weight, then gives in and laughs.

Being a nanny really was his calling, he figures.
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if this feels too rushed, sorry D:

also: qmi or kyumin? i am very conflicted, as you can see. (although the fact that i can write 5,000+ words of qmi (homg i have never written so much in my life) while i am stuck at a thousand words with a pointless kyumin that is going nowhere seems to be a sign that qmi is meant for me /shot)

desperately waiting for suju-m okay. zhou mi why are you so hot? D8