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[fic] SJ: four drabbles
Previously posted at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
bluefractures. These have been revised and modified slightly.
i need you physically around
super junior ; kibum/donghae ; g
214 w
Donghae sits calmly at the end of the couch, feet dangling off the other corner, his hand clutching the phone tightly against his ear. He frowns, "Dude, you need to come around sooner, alright?" He listens as Kibum laughs, the exhalation of air cracking against the ear piece of his phone.
"Why? Do you miss me?" Kibum asks coyly from the other end of the line. Donghae remembers the way Kibum smiles in his memories because his gut is telling him Kibum is doing it, eyes sparkling and crinkling at the corners, white teeth shining, face entirely lit up.
"No," Donghae smiles, throwing his head backwards and closing his eyes. He adds, faking annoyance, "I'm just tired of covering up your singing, man."
"No, you're not," Kibum replies back, and Donghae can remember tasting that smile many months ago. "You enjoy it, I've seen you."
Donghae purses his lips. "Shut up, I don't enjoy it."
Kibum laughs again, "Alright, Donghae, whatever you say."
Yes, Donghae enjoys it, he knows he does and everyone who's seen him knows it, too. What he doesn't like that much, however, is the fact Kibum's not around to sing, to dance, or just be around him anymore.
He doesn't tell Kibum that. But he knows Kibum is already aware of it.
little facts
super junior ; various* ; g
396 w
*(kangin/leeteuk, hankyung/heechul/siwon, kibum/donghae, eunhyuk/sungmin)
As he walks around the studio making sure everyone's doing what they’re supposed to, Jungsu can't seem to keep his eyes away from Youngwoon. Hyukjae notices it, catches the way Jungsu's eyes dart back to Youngwoon from time to time, or the way he's always trying to be around him, not too obvious or telling.
And Youngwoon does it too, Hyunkjae's also seen it. It's as if they're in constant orbit around each other, always looking, searching for a word, a smile, or just mutual recognition. They're bonded, Hyukjae thinks, feeling warm inside.
His attention drifts off to Heechul, who's suddenly laughing outright, pointing at Hankyung just to stop laughing and then laughing some more. Hankyung looks bewildered, a bit embarrassed, and then he's laughing too, poking Heechul's thigh with his foot over Siwon's leg, mumbling what sounds like Don’t laugh at me in both Chinese and Korean accent, a well familiar mixture. Siwon's smiling condescendingly, shaking his head as silent laughter rises through his chest, lighting up his face.
Hyukjae knows there's something about those three that no one really gets -- and that no one ever will. It's known, that intricate, bizarre love triangle they've got (There's even a song for you guys, Kyuhyun usually jokes around), even when they try to hide it. It's obvious; it's there, for everyone to see.
Hyukjae knows things. Hyukjae sees things.
"Are you daydreaming again, Hyukjae?" comes Sungmin's voice, slightly agitated but nevertheless curious.
Hyukjae doesn't answer; he's just too caught up with the way Donghae laughs frantically at whatever Kibum's said over the phone. His eyes are crinkling at the corners, shining and full of something Hyukjae doesn't know how to name correctly.
Sungmin places a hand on top of his shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?"
Hyukjae nods, looking away from Donghae and back to Sungmin. His bangs are plastered to his forehead with sweat, cheeks red, and chest heaving. And even like that, he looks beautiful. "Yeah, I'm alright," he says in a quiet voice, fetching for his bottle of water a couple of feet away from him.
Sungmin looks far from convinced and it makes Hyukjae smile calmly, knowing Sungmin always worries. He finds Sungmin's hand with his own and squeezes lightly, smiling to make Sungmin smile too. If it were up to Hyukjae, he would spend his life making Sungmin smile. "I'm okay, really."
And Hyukjae watches as Sungmin smiles, really smiles, and knows he will be.
january
super junior (m) ; henry/ryeowook ; g
446 w
Henry is staring out the window when Ryeowook enters the room. He likes the rain, and Ryeowook knows it.
He's peacefully sitting on his bed, in front of the window, eyes looking both searching and lost in the emptiness in front of him. His hair is messed up, sticking up in every possible direction, and somehow, all Ryeowook wants to do is run his hand through it, smother it down, calm him down. Henry is hugging both knees to his chest, so tight, so tight, Ryeowook can see the whiteness in Henry's knuckles, a juxtaposition to the frailness in his features.
Henry doesn't seem to notice Ryeowook; in fact, he looks like he wouldn't notice a hurricane, not even if it ran right next to him. Ryeowook is tempted to say something but can't seem to make his throat work.
A floor board creaks under the weight of his step and then Henry's jumping in his seat, looking close to seizure from the impression. Ryeowook feels guilt coloring his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." His voice is barely a whisper, but a loud scream midst the silence of the room.
Henry smiles with difficulty, but it never reaches his eyes. "It's okay."
"What's wrong?" Ryeowook finds himself inquiring, putting one foot in front of the other with ease until he's sitting at the end of Henry's bed. Henry shrugs and looks away. It makes Ryeowook flinch. "Hey, you can talk to me, you know. That's what I'm here for. That's what friends are for."
Except I'm not sure if friends is all I want us to be, he adds shakily inside his head, pulling out what he expects not to be the sad smile he feels in his lips.
"It's hard," Henry breathes, eyes still on the window. Ryeowook knows what it stands for, he tastes it; he feels it in his own skin all the time. "It's hard but I'm trying."
Ryeowook moves closer to where Henry is, wrapping a wobbly arm around Henry's shoulders. "I know. We all know," he whispers, rubbing Henry's arm carefully. "And you're doing great, Henry, you really are."
Henry huffs an ironic laugh, shaking his head violently. "Yeah, I'm not sure about that anymore."
Later, when Henry's sobbing against his shoulder, clinging so hard to him like someone would to a lifebelt, all Ryeowook can do is sing soft, rhyming lyrics that say I dream at night of a better place, with a light upon your smiling face, and he does his best to pronounce every word correctly so Henry gets the message.
He wishes for it to stop raining soon, both indoors and outside.
leading
super junior (m) ; band fic ; g
655 w
"Hyung?"
"What."
"I don't like chicken anymore."
Han Geng raised both eyebrows and stared at Henry for two full minutes before asking, "Excuse me?"
"I said I don't like chicken anymore," Henry repeated.
Han Geng left the pencil he had been using to complete his crossword with in his night stand and focused his eyes on Henry, who sat at the end of Han Geng's bed. "I see. Mind telling me why?"
"I just saw this documentary about birds and it was gross. Chicken's dead to me," Henry sighed dramatically, flopping backwards and spreading himself on the mattress.
Han Geng made a disgruntled sound. "Yeah, well, it is when you eat it, so."
"Not funny," Henry replied, wrinkling his nose and rolling onto his stomach. He stayed silent for a while - for exactly thirty-two seconds, Han Geng counted them, yes - and then jumped in his seat, as if he had suddenly remembered something. "Oh."
Han Geng, being the great and almighty leader – added to outstanding actor, (and usually Kyuhyun’s part-time babysitter, Heechul’s personal slave and Donghae’s consoling arm whenever Siwon won at Wii) - that he usually was, feigned interest and wondered, "Oh?"
"I don't know, maybe… maybe I was a bird in my past life so now I can't eat them because they are– were my family," he explained, looking far too excited than the situation appealed for. "I was a bird in my past life!"
Han Geng stared, mouth hanging open and eyes the size of a... a big… big circumferential thing. Those were one of the reasons why he didn't like to stay home, having to take care of Henry- no, everyone. He was the leader, he had responsibilities, yes, but he needed some time off, too, damn it.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Henry asked doubtfully, and Han Geng was proud of how intimidating he seemed to appear to Henry. It was about time he did, he thought grimly.
Han Geng closed the newspaper carefully, slowly, breathing in and out to steady himself and not grab Henry by the neck and throw him out the window. "Did you interrupt my intellectual train of thoughts to tell me that?" he asked in a casual tone as he placed the newspaper next to him in bed.
"Intellectual train of—? Oh," Henry seemed to realize - somewhat belatedly, however - he had interrupted Han Geng and his crossword.
Everyone knew Han Geng hated to be interrupted when he was doing crosswords (or pretty much anything, for that matter) during his off-time, everyone. Apparently, Henry either hadn't listened or just didn't care. Han Geng liked to think it was the first one, much for his own sake than Henry's.
"I'm really sorry," Henry muttered swiftly, leaping to his feet. He held both hands high in peace.
"Get out before I figure out a way to make your death look like an accident," Han Geng said quietly, fetching for a pillow and throwing it towards Henry's fleeing figure. "And don't come back!" he shouted, trying not to laugh and spoil the moment completely because at least for once, someone had said I’m sorry.
(He did laugh later, though, when they were all sitting in the living room for dinner and Henry had pulled a face after Ryeowook had announced there was roasted chicken for dinner and that they’d better eat it all because he hadn’t spent three hours of his life cooking to just watch the food being thrown away, alright?
"What are you laughing about?" Siwon asked in a low voice, elbowing him.
Han Geng shrugged, still smiling. "'S nothing. Do not eat all the chicken, Donghae," he said loudly, glancing over at Henry who seemed a little deflated and about to be violently ill. "Henry loves chicken. Don't you, Henry?"
He laughed outright again when Henry murmured, "Stupid chicken," and ran off to his room.)
bluefractures. These have been revised and modified slightly.i need you physically around
super junior ; kibum/donghae ; g
214 w
Donghae sits calmly at the end of the couch, feet dangling off the other corner, his hand clutching the phone tightly against his ear. He frowns, "Dude, you need to come around sooner, alright?" He listens as Kibum laughs, the exhalation of air cracking against the ear piece of his phone.
"Why? Do you miss me?" Kibum asks coyly from the other end of the line. Donghae remembers the way Kibum smiles in his memories because his gut is telling him Kibum is doing it, eyes sparkling and crinkling at the corners, white teeth shining, face entirely lit up.
"No," Donghae smiles, throwing his head backwards and closing his eyes. He adds, faking annoyance, "I'm just tired of covering up your singing, man."
"No, you're not," Kibum replies back, and Donghae can remember tasting that smile many months ago. "You enjoy it, I've seen you."
Donghae purses his lips. "Shut up, I don't enjoy it."
Kibum laughs again, "Alright, Donghae, whatever you say."
Yes, Donghae enjoys it, he knows he does and everyone who's seen him knows it, too. What he doesn't like that much, however, is the fact Kibum's not around to sing, to dance, or just be around him anymore.
He doesn't tell Kibum that. But he knows Kibum is already aware of it.
little facts
super junior ; various* ; g
396 w
*(kangin/leeteuk, hankyung/heechul/siwon, kibum/donghae, eunhyuk/sungmin)
As he walks around the studio making sure everyone's doing what they’re supposed to, Jungsu can't seem to keep his eyes away from Youngwoon. Hyukjae notices it, catches the way Jungsu's eyes dart back to Youngwoon from time to time, or the way he's always trying to be around him, not too obvious or telling.
And Youngwoon does it too, Hyunkjae's also seen it. It's as if they're in constant orbit around each other, always looking, searching for a word, a smile, or just mutual recognition. They're bonded, Hyukjae thinks, feeling warm inside.
His attention drifts off to Heechul, who's suddenly laughing outright, pointing at Hankyung just to stop laughing and then laughing some more. Hankyung looks bewildered, a bit embarrassed, and then he's laughing too, poking Heechul's thigh with his foot over Siwon's leg, mumbling what sounds like Don’t laugh at me in both Chinese and Korean accent, a well familiar mixture. Siwon's smiling condescendingly, shaking his head as silent laughter rises through his chest, lighting up his face.
Hyukjae knows there's something about those three that no one really gets -- and that no one ever will. It's known, that intricate, bizarre love triangle they've got (There's even a song for you guys, Kyuhyun usually jokes around), even when they try to hide it. It's obvious; it's there, for everyone to see.
Hyukjae knows things. Hyukjae sees things.
"Are you daydreaming again, Hyukjae?" comes Sungmin's voice, slightly agitated but nevertheless curious.
Hyukjae doesn't answer; he's just too caught up with the way Donghae laughs frantically at whatever Kibum's said over the phone. His eyes are crinkling at the corners, shining and full of something Hyukjae doesn't know how to name correctly.
Sungmin places a hand on top of his shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?"
Hyukjae nods, looking away from Donghae and back to Sungmin. His bangs are plastered to his forehead with sweat, cheeks red, and chest heaving. And even like that, he looks beautiful. "Yeah, I'm alright," he says in a quiet voice, fetching for his bottle of water a couple of feet away from him.
Sungmin looks far from convinced and it makes Hyukjae smile calmly, knowing Sungmin always worries. He finds Sungmin's hand with his own and squeezes lightly, smiling to make Sungmin smile too. If it were up to Hyukjae, he would spend his life making Sungmin smile. "I'm okay, really."
And Hyukjae watches as Sungmin smiles, really smiles, and knows he will be.
january
super junior (m) ; henry/ryeowook ; g
446 w
Henry is staring out the window when Ryeowook enters the room. He likes the rain, and Ryeowook knows it.
He's peacefully sitting on his bed, in front of the window, eyes looking both searching and lost in the emptiness in front of him. His hair is messed up, sticking up in every possible direction, and somehow, all Ryeowook wants to do is run his hand through it, smother it down, calm him down. Henry is hugging both knees to his chest, so tight, so tight, Ryeowook can see the whiteness in Henry's knuckles, a juxtaposition to the frailness in his features.
Henry doesn't seem to notice Ryeowook; in fact, he looks like he wouldn't notice a hurricane, not even if it ran right next to him. Ryeowook is tempted to say something but can't seem to make his throat work.
A floor board creaks under the weight of his step and then Henry's jumping in his seat, looking close to seizure from the impression. Ryeowook feels guilt coloring his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." His voice is barely a whisper, but a loud scream midst the silence of the room.
Henry smiles with difficulty, but it never reaches his eyes. "It's okay."
"What's wrong?" Ryeowook finds himself inquiring, putting one foot in front of the other with ease until he's sitting at the end of Henry's bed. Henry shrugs and looks away. It makes Ryeowook flinch. "Hey, you can talk to me, you know. That's what I'm here for. That's what friends are for."
Except I'm not sure if friends is all I want us to be, he adds shakily inside his head, pulling out what he expects not to be the sad smile he feels in his lips.
"It's hard," Henry breathes, eyes still on the window. Ryeowook knows what it stands for, he tastes it; he feels it in his own skin all the time. "It's hard but I'm trying."
Ryeowook moves closer to where Henry is, wrapping a wobbly arm around Henry's shoulders. "I know. We all know," he whispers, rubbing Henry's arm carefully. "And you're doing great, Henry, you really are."
Henry huffs an ironic laugh, shaking his head violently. "Yeah, I'm not sure about that anymore."
Later, when Henry's sobbing against his shoulder, clinging so hard to him like someone would to a lifebelt, all Ryeowook can do is sing soft, rhyming lyrics that say I dream at night of a better place, with a light upon your smiling face, and he does his best to pronounce every word correctly so Henry gets the message.
He wishes for it to stop raining soon, both indoors and outside.
leading
super junior (m) ; band fic ; g
655 w
"Hyung?"
"What."
"I don't like chicken anymore."
Han Geng raised both eyebrows and stared at Henry for two full minutes before asking, "Excuse me?"
"I said I don't like chicken anymore," Henry repeated.
Han Geng left the pencil he had been using to complete his crossword with in his night stand and focused his eyes on Henry, who sat at the end of Han Geng's bed. "I see. Mind telling me why?"
"I just saw this documentary about birds and it was gross. Chicken's dead to me," Henry sighed dramatically, flopping backwards and spreading himself on the mattress.
Han Geng made a disgruntled sound. "Yeah, well, it is when you eat it, so."
"Not funny," Henry replied, wrinkling his nose and rolling onto his stomach. He stayed silent for a while - for exactly thirty-two seconds, Han Geng counted them, yes - and then jumped in his seat, as if he had suddenly remembered something. "Oh."
Han Geng, being the great and almighty leader – added to outstanding actor, (and usually Kyuhyun’s part-time babysitter, Heechul’s personal slave and Donghae’s consoling arm whenever Siwon won at Wii) - that he usually was, feigned interest and wondered, "Oh?"
"I don't know, maybe… maybe I was a bird in my past life so now I can't eat them because they are– were my family," he explained, looking far too excited than the situation appealed for. "I was a bird in my past life!"
Han Geng stared, mouth hanging open and eyes the size of a... a big… big circumferential thing. Those were one of the reasons why he didn't like to stay home, having to take care of Henry- no, everyone. He was the leader, he had responsibilities, yes, but he needed some time off, too, damn it.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Henry asked doubtfully, and Han Geng was proud of how intimidating he seemed to appear to Henry. It was about time he did, he thought grimly.
Han Geng closed the newspaper carefully, slowly, breathing in and out to steady himself and not grab Henry by the neck and throw him out the window. "Did you interrupt my intellectual train of thoughts to tell me that?" he asked in a casual tone as he placed the newspaper next to him in bed.
"Intellectual train of—? Oh," Henry seemed to realize - somewhat belatedly, however - he had interrupted Han Geng and his crossword.
Everyone knew Han Geng hated to be interrupted when he was doing crosswords (or pretty much anything, for that matter) during his off-time, everyone. Apparently, Henry either hadn't listened or just didn't care. Han Geng liked to think it was the first one, much for his own sake than Henry's.
"I'm really sorry," Henry muttered swiftly, leaping to his feet. He held both hands high in peace.
"Get out before I figure out a way to make your death look like an accident," Han Geng said quietly, fetching for a pillow and throwing it towards Henry's fleeing figure. "And don't come back!" he shouted, trying not to laugh and spoil the moment completely because at least for once, someone had said I’m sorry.
(He did laugh later, though, when they were all sitting in the living room for dinner and Henry had pulled a face after Ryeowook had announced there was roasted chicken for dinner and that they’d better eat it all because he hadn’t spent three hours of his life cooking to just watch the food being thrown away, alright?
"What are you laughing about?" Siwon asked in a low voice, elbowing him.
Han Geng shrugged, still smiling. "'S nothing. Do not eat all the chicken, Donghae," he said loudly, glancing over at Henry who seemed a little deflated and about to be violently ill. "Henry loves chicken. Don't you, Henry?"
He laughed outright again when Henry murmured, "Stupid chicken," and ran off to his room.)