3 drabbles; pg--pg-13; various pairings
시간아
sunggyu/woohyun; pg; ~300w
a/n: first attempt writing woogyu \o/ they are so hard to write omg i’m going to cry. kudos to all woogyu writers out there. slightly based on this.
sunggyu looked up from his place on the sofa. “a tree?”
“yeah,” woohyun grinned, his fingers busy fumbling with the bottle of pills. “i would do it myself, but you know i’m pretty much caged,” he motioned towards the room, “here.”
the overly white room. after visiting it so many times that he had lost count (since the period between their fourth and fifth album, when woohyun suddenly coughed blood and fainted during practice and couldn’t wake up), sunggyu didn’t hate it as much, not compared to the first time he came to bring woohyun his things. woohyun told him to suck it up because ‘this will be your favorite dongsaeng’s home from now on’ before sunggyu punched his arm.
now the strong smell of drugs actually calmed him, because this was what they needed. what woohyun needed. he could get used to this.
“why would you want to plant a tree anyway,” sunggyu snorted a little.
woohyun smiled, lopsided, and not as blinding as before. it’s sad, in a way, but maybe sunggyu’s the only one who thought about it too much. dongwoo laughed at him, softly claimed that woohyun’s as pretty as ever, but dongwoo had been a little bit biased, a little bit too nice. “as a memorial, i guess?” woohyun shrugged. “something you can all go to after i’m gone.”
even from the beginning, sunggyu had told him that he hated those kinds of jokes. for after i die, he’d laugh. i’ll leave soon, he'd always carelessly say. it made sunggyu punch a hole in their dorm, the one that sungjong silently covered with a plank of wood.
sunggyu felt that his throat was too dry for his liking. “you won’t die,” he croaked, a broken record.
maybe woohyun thought it was funny, that sunggyu hoped so much when he had pretty much given up. maybe woohyun thought sunggyu’s a little dreamer, the one who couldn’t give in to reality. maybe woohyun laughed because he was tired of crying. maybe sunggyu’s just being stupid.
“of course, hyung,” woohyun replied, the same old shit, as he gulped down his pills, “sure.”
his smile was not as blinding, but it’s just as fake, if not more. sunggyu’s not sure if he wanted to punch it off of woohyun’s face, or cry.
my first kiss (went a little like this).
dongwoo/hoya; pg-13; ~300w
a/n: first yadong ever teehee ♥ now i know i should have left yadong to those talented writers they have already had out there. sobs.
there were times when howon’s body took over his mind, and he did things without thinking over them first.
like that time when he decided to submit his resignation letter to the school without waiting for his parents' acceptance first, and ended up being ignored for two months by his father. or that other time when he called off his one-year-and-eight-months relationship with his girlfriend because he was debuting and he knew he couldn’t have everything he wanted. he ended up crying once he reached the dorm, stole sunggyu’s secret storage of alcohol, and drunk his head out.
or now, the night they had just won their first award, when dongwoo was smiling and crying like an idiot, pressing his face against howon’s shoulder in the kitchen when the others were sleeping, and howon decided to kiss him.
dongwoo’s red eyes widened, but he didn’t pull away. much. he jerked back, his sobbing stopped, and he touched the side of howon’s hips. at least he didn’t run away. howon tried his hardest not to lean in again.
“you,” dongwoo breathed, his breath reeking. howon licked his lips.
“i,” he said, head incoherent. breathe, breathe.
the problem was, no matter how much he tried to find it, he didn’t regret it, at all. whatever it was. he knew it was wrong, knew it would get him (them) in trouble, but he couldn’t, for the life of him, feel apologetic about it.
it scared him. how much did he exactly want this, he wondered.
dongwoo moved. “you kissed me,” he said sheepishly, and howon wanted to laugh until he tears up because dongwoo had been stupid, had been dense, had been naïve, and howon thought he was kind of perfect; he kind of fell in love with him.
“i know,” he chuckled, voice a little bit above a whisper, “i want to do it again.”
dongwoo stared at him. shit, shit, shit, howon’s mind went blank.
“i’m going to do it again,” he announced, and did just that.
i don’t love you pills.
myungsoo/sungyeol; pg; ~600w
a/n: inspired by this.
sungyeol could feel his heart threatening to break his ribs, but his words were lost in his thought. he stared down at the purple capsule between his fingers. “are you sure?”
sungjong read the writing at the side of the bottle out loud. it didn’t assure him, but sungyeol didn’t tell him. “should be,” but sungjong sounded uncertain, almost apologetic, “that’s what it says here.”
sungyeol gulped. “okay then,” he said, his grip around the glass of water tightening.
“look,” the younger eyed him, hand around his wrist. “you don’t have to do this, hyung.”
“really,” he laughed flatly, not really feeling himself.
“yes,” sungjong insisted, his nails digging into sungyeol’s skin. it hurt, but it woke his mind up a little. “don’t you think this is going a little bit too far?”
except sungjong had no idea what going too far meant. sungjong had no idea how far his feelings had gone, and that extreme measures were needed in order to help him. the group. him. “not too far,” sungyeol heard, rather than felt, himself saying.
sungjong sighed. “whatever you want then,” he released his wrist. “just, as long as you’re sure.”
“i’m sure,” sungyeol nodded, eyes watering, because he didn’t think he could stand being in the same room with a certain someone and kept wanting to rip his clothes and kiss him all over anymore. he didn’t think his fantasies were healthy. he didn’t think his head was healthy. not when this certain someone was messing with his head. this needed to stop. “really sure.”
“okay,” sungjong said. “do it.”
and sungyeol did, despite his trembling fingers. he put the stupid capsule against his tongue, tasting the smooth texture and the slight sweet and sour taste, before he pushed it down his throat with water. he could feel it rolling down his esophagus, and he almost choked. he drank again.
they sat in silence for a minute, eyes to eyes, lips sealed. “how is it,” sungjong asked, his voice nervous, tinged with excitement. he moved forward to touched sungyeol’s chest, but he slapped him away.
“weird,” he snapped, gulping down the water again.
“is it working?”
“i don’t know, actually,” sungyeol moved his tongue around. he couldn’t actually say if he felt any difference, but he did feel a little bit giddy. aftereffect?
“should we see?” sungyeol thought sungjong was a little bit too enthusiastic about this, and he was the one who kept telling him that feelings couldn’t be changed with a single medicine. he wanted to hit his head. “should we call him and see if this is working out?”
sungyeol shrugged, because what else could he do, really. “i guess.”
sungjong stood up almost immediately, leaving the bottle and sungyeol in their shared room. sungyeol wouldn’t lie; he, too, wanted to know if the twenty thousand wons he spent on this was worth it. he hit his knees, ignoring the butterflies that had started appearing in his stomach. calm. down.
he almost succeeded, when suddenly the door to their room opened, and there he was. he rubbed his eyes, clearly annoyed that sungjong had woke him up from the precious nap he'd needed after he came back from japan. his other hand was scratching his stomach under his shirt, and sungyeol wanted to slap himself for wanting to touch the visible skin. for wanting at all. fuck.
“what’s wrong,” myungsoo yawned, raised his arm to let sungjong went through. “sungjong said you needed me?”
“so,” sungjong poked him, “is it working?”
“is what working?”
sungyeol pressed his palms against his eyes. “nope,” he groaned, because he wanted to kiss myungsoo and he wanted to break something and this was all myungsoo’s fault. “not working at all.”
a/n: I WRITE TOO MANY INFINITE, I KNOW. I NEED TO START WRITING SHINEE AGAIN. anyway, this is kinda a ~*~parting gift~*~ because i'm going on hiatus for two-three weeks starting from monday. mid-term exams are coming, and after that is remedial week, so yeah. sobs.
a/n2: beta-ed by aurelynn ♥
sunggyu/woohyun; pg; ~300w
a/n: first attempt writing woogyu \o/ they are so hard to write omg i’m going to cry. kudos to all woogyu writers out there. slightly based on this.
sunggyu looked up from his place on the sofa. “a tree?”
“yeah,” woohyun grinned, his fingers busy fumbling with the bottle of pills. “i would do it myself, but you know i’m pretty much caged,” he motioned towards the room, “here.”
the overly white room. after visiting it so many times that he had lost count (since the period between their fourth and fifth album, when woohyun suddenly coughed blood and fainted during practice and couldn’t wake up), sunggyu didn’t hate it as much, not compared to the first time he came to bring woohyun his things. woohyun told him to suck it up because ‘this will be your favorite dongsaeng’s home from now on’ before sunggyu punched his arm.
now the strong smell of drugs actually calmed him, because this was what they needed. what woohyun needed. he could get used to this.
“why would you want to plant a tree anyway,” sunggyu snorted a little.
woohyun smiled, lopsided, and not as blinding as before. it’s sad, in a way, but maybe sunggyu’s the only one who thought about it too much. dongwoo laughed at him, softly claimed that woohyun’s as pretty as ever, but dongwoo had been a little bit biased, a little bit too nice. “as a memorial, i guess?” woohyun shrugged. “something you can all go to after i’m gone.”
even from the beginning, sunggyu had told him that he hated those kinds of jokes. for after i die, he’d laugh. i’ll leave soon, he'd always carelessly say. it made sunggyu punch a hole in their dorm, the one that sungjong silently covered with a plank of wood.
sunggyu felt that his throat was too dry for his liking. “you won’t die,” he croaked, a broken record.
maybe woohyun thought it was funny, that sunggyu hoped so much when he had pretty much given up. maybe woohyun thought sunggyu’s a little dreamer, the one who couldn’t give in to reality. maybe woohyun laughed because he was tired of crying. maybe sunggyu’s just being stupid.
“of course, hyung,” woohyun replied, the same old shit, as he gulped down his pills, “sure.”
his smile was not as blinding, but it’s just as fake, if not more. sunggyu’s not sure if he wanted to punch it off of woohyun’s face, or cry.
my first kiss (went a little like this).
dongwoo/hoya; pg-13; ~300w
a/n: first yadong ever teehee ♥ now i know i should have left yadong to those talented writers they have already had out there. sobs.
there were times when howon’s body took over his mind, and he did things without thinking over them first.
like that time when he decided to submit his resignation letter to the school without waiting for his parents' acceptance first, and ended up being ignored for two months by his father. or that other time when he called off his one-year-and-eight-months relationship with his girlfriend because he was debuting and he knew he couldn’t have everything he wanted. he ended up crying once he reached the dorm, stole sunggyu’s secret storage of alcohol, and drunk his head out.
or now, the night they had just won their first award, when dongwoo was smiling and crying like an idiot, pressing his face against howon’s shoulder in the kitchen when the others were sleeping, and howon decided to kiss him.
dongwoo’s red eyes widened, but he didn’t pull away. much. he jerked back, his sobbing stopped, and he touched the side of howon’s hips. at least he didn’t run away. howon tried his hardest not to lean in again.
“you,” dongwoo breathed, his breath reeking. howon licked his lips.
“i,” he said, head incoherent. breathe, breathe.
the problem was, no matter how much he tried to find it, he didn’t regret it, at all. whatever it was. he knew it was wrong, knew it would get him (them) in trouble, but he couldn’t, for the life of him, feel apologetic about it.
it scared him. how much did he exactly want this, he wondered.
dongwoo moved. “you kissed me,” he said sheepishly, and howon wanted to laugh until he tears up because dongwoo had been stupid, had been dense, had been naïve, and howon thought he was kind of perfect; he kind of fell in love with him.
“i know,” he chuckled, voice a little bit above a whisper, “i want to do it again.”
dongwoo stared at him. shit, shit, shit, howon’s mind went blank.
“i’m going to do it again,” he announced, and did just that.
i don’t love you pills.
myungsoo/sungyeol; pg; ~600w
a/n: inspired by this.
sungyeol could feel his heart threatening to break his ribs, but his words were lost in his thought. he stared down at the purple capsule between his fingers. “are you sure?”
sungjong read the writing at the side of the bottle out loud. it didn’t assure him, but sungyeol didn’t tell him. “should be,” but sungjong sounded uncertain, almost apologetic, “that’s what it says here.”
sungyeol gulped. “okay then,” he said, his grip around the glass of water tightening.
“look,” the younger eyed him, hand around his wrist. “you don’t have to do this, hyung.”
“really,” he laughed flatly, not really feeling himself.
“yes,” sungjong insisted, his nails digging into sungyeol’s skin. it hurt, but it woke his mind up a little. “don’t you think this is going a little bit too far?”
except sungjong had no idea what going too far meant. sungjong had no idea how far his feelings had gone, and that extreme measures were needed in order to help him. the group. him. “not too far,” sungyeol heard, rather than felt, himself saying.
sungjong sighed. “whatever you want then,” he released his wrist. “just, as long as you’re sure.”
“i’m sure,” sungyeol nodded, eyes watering, because he didn’t think he could stand being in the same room with a certain someone and kept wanting to rip his clothes and kiss him all over anymore. he didn’t think his fantasies were healthy. he didn’t think his head was healthy. not when this certain someone was messing with his head. this needed to stop. “really sure.”
“okay,” sungjong said. “do it.”
and sungyeol did, despite his trembling fingers. he put the stupid capsule against his tongue, tasting the smooth texture and the slight sweet and sour taste, before he pushed it down his throat with water. he could feel it rolling down his esophagus, and he almost choked. he drank again.
they sat in silence for a minute, eyes to eyes, lips sealed. “how is it,” sungjong asked, his voice nervous, tinged with excitement. he moved forward to touched sungyeol’s chest, but he slapped him away.
“weird,” he snapped, gulping down the water again.
“is it working?”
“i don’t know, actually,” sungyeol moved his tongue around. he couldn’t actually say if he felt any difference, but he did feel a little bit giddy. aftereffect?
“should we see?” sungyeol thought sungjong was a little bit too enthusiastic about this, and he was the one who kept telling him that feelings couldn’t be changed with a single medicine. he wanted to hit his head. “should we call him and see if this is working out?”
sungyeol shrugged, because what else could he do, really. “i guess.”
sungjong stood up almost immediately, leaving the bottle and sungyeol in their shared room. sungyeol wouldn’t lie; he, too, wanted to know if the twenty thousand wons he spent on this was worth it. he hit his knees, ignoring the butterflies that had started appearing in his stomach. calm. down.
he almost succeeded, when suddenly the door to their room opened, and there he was. he rubbed his eyes, clearly annoyed that sungjong had woke him up from the precious nap he'd needed after he came back from japan. his other hand was scratching his stomach under his shirt, and sungyeol wanted to slap himself for wanting to touch the visible skin. for wanting at all. fuck.
“what’s wrong,” myungsoo yawned, raised his arm to let sungjong went through. “sungjong said you needed me?”
“so,” sungjong poked him, “is it working?”
“is what working?”
sungyeol pressed his palms against his eyes. “nope,” he groaned, because he wanted to kiss myungsoo and he wanted to break something and this was all myungsoo’s fault. “not working at all.”
a/n: I WRITE TOO MANY INFINITE, I KNOW. I NEED TO START WRITING SHINEE AGAIN. anyway, this is kinda a ~*~parting gift~*~ because i'm going on hiatus for two-three weeks starting from monday. mid-term exams are coming, and after that is remedial week, so yeah. sobs.
a/n2: beta-ed by aurelynn ♥