[August 2] [Super Junior] holly
Title: holly
Day/Theme: August 2 / over the world and under the world
Series: Super Junior
Character/Pairing: Sungmin/Ryeowook
Rating: T
Holly, next. Ryeowook stared at the flower with its stem curling around his ring finger with distrust before yanking it off and flushing it down the toilet, as if blaming it for all of his troubles, past, present, and future.
He felt bad about it, afterwards, when the toilet stopped flushing, but it was only momentary, of course.
He spent the rest of the morning disinfecting his hand with alcohol, as if to get rid of the offending smell of flowers from his skin. When Sungmin covered him with small, affectionate kisses and wondered aloud if he were indulging in bath products, Ryeowook had to suppress the urge to push him away, preferably off the balcony of their apartment. Sungmin had kissed him like that when they first met, too, at a party of a mutual friend’s, and Sungmin had been drunk and lonely and Ryeowook was the only one who could hold his alcohol well, at the time.
They were younger, then, fresh out of college and without direction in their lives. Things were simpler when all he had to worry about was fighting off Sungmin's advances while weaseling his way out of helping with cleaning up Kibum's (trashed) apartment, when all he had to think about was Sungmin's smile, toothy and still feral, all the same, as he pushed Ryeowook onto the nearest available surface and mouthed small words of infatuation into the hollow of Ryeowook's neck, the sharp curve of his jaw. Love was never an option, then. "You're too tense," Sungmin had slurred, voice low and husky.
No, you're too drunk, Ryeowook wanted to say, but it was useless with Sungmin pressing kisses along the swell of his cheek, close to the curve of his mouth, kisses that tasted like sparkling wine and candy for smoking withdrawals. Even then, the knowledge of it felt acidic in his mouth, like knowing a secret he had never meant to share, or finding out more than the outward things he'd known about Sungmin, the things beyond his lazy grin or his hooded eyes or the voice he'd used for older women, beautiful girls. It had felt like another world, dancing in Ryeowook's palm, over and under and hoping to maybe get in between, just for some warmth.
He had smelled like another woman's, then. Ryeowook had figured as much.
"What's your name?" Sungmin had asked, only Ryeowook didn't remember if he had given it, then, or if Kibum took that timely opportunity to barge in and yell at Ryeowook for skipping out on him and oh my god, what the hell man?
In retrospect, it could have been worse.
It could have been better, too, but Ryeowook was never one to take anything beyond face value.
"What are you thinking about?" Sungmin asked, threading fingers through his hair, and Ryeowook leaned into his touch, pursing his lips.
"I wonder how Kibum's doing," Ryeowook said, and Sungmin laughed, something short and quiet and wonderful it made Ryeowook want to smile.
Day/Theme: August 2 / over the world and under the world
Series: Super Junior
Character/Pairing: Sungmin/Ryeowook
Rating: T
Holly, next. Ryeowook stared at the flower with its stem curling around his ring finger with distrust before yanking it off and flushing it down the toilet, as if blaming it for all of his troubles, past, present, and future.
He felt bad about it, afterwards, when the toilet stopped flushing, but it was only momentary, of course.
He spent the rest of the morning disinfecting his hand with alcohol, as if to get rid of the offending smell of flowers from his skin. When Sungmin covered him with small, affectionate kisses and wondered aloud if he were indulging in bath products, Ryeowook had to suppress the urge to push him away, preferably off the balcony of their apartment. Sungmin had kissed him like that when they first met, too, at a party of a mutual friend’s, and Sungmin had been drunk and lonely and Ryeowook was the only one who could hold his alcohol well, at the time.
They were younger, then, fresh out of college and without direction in their lives. Things were simpler when all he had to worry about was fighting off Sungmin's advances while weaseling his way out of helping with cleaning up Kibum's (trashed) apartment, when all he had to think about was Sungmin's smile, toothy and still feral, all the same, as he pushed Ryeowook onto the nearest available surface and mouthed small words of infatuation into the hollow of Ryeowook's neck, the sharp curve of his jaw. Love was never an option, then. "You're too tense," Sungmin had slurred, voice low and husky.
No, you're too drunk, Ryeowook wanted to say, but it was useless with Sungmin pressing kisses along the swell of his cheek, close to the curve of his mouth, kisses that tasted like sparkling wine and candy for smoking withdrawals. Even then, the knowledge of it felt acidic in his mouth, like knowing a secret he had never meant to share, or finding out more than the outward things he'd known about Sungmin, the things beyond his lazy grin or his hooded eyes or the voice he'd used for older women, beautiful girls. It had felt like another world, dancing in Ryeowook's palm, over and under and hoping to maybe get in between, just for some warmth.
He had smelled like another woman's, then. Ryeowook had figured as much.
"What's your name?" Sungmin had asked, only Ryeowook didn't remember if he had given it, then, or if Kibum took that timely opportunity to barge in and yell at Ryeowook for skipping out on him and oh my god, what the hell man?
In retrospect, it could have been worse.
It could have been better, too, but Ryeowook was never one to take anything beyond face value.
"What are you thinking about?" Sungmin asked, threading fingers through his hair, and Ryeowook leaned into his touch, pursing his lips.
"I wonder how Kibum's doing," Ryeowook said, and Sungmin laughed, something short and quiet and wonderful it made Ryeowook want to smile.