Super Junior AU; Shihanchul; Cloth Of Heaven
Title: Cloth Of Heaven
Fandom: Super Junior AU (College)
Pairing: Siwon/Hankyung/Heechul
Word count: 4,258
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There is a lady sweet and kind was never a face so pleased my mind; I did but see her passing by, and yet I'll love her till I die.
A/N: For sjvignettes, week three, challenge one. Also because Shihanchul has been owning me lately. My John Clare bias, let me show you it.
I worked out today that I’ve written over 88,000 words since July. I’ve written almost 300,000 words this year. I don’t know why you all just don’t put me out of my misery.
I've changed the line. Apologies - it was unintentional.
Sitting waiting for Siwon in the college cafeteria was like waiting for Eeteuk to get up in a morning - it wasn’t happening any time soon (one of the reasons Heechul had moved out in the first place, though there were others, like the amount of time Eeteuk spent in the bathroom, and having Kangin constantly around; Heechul liked Kangin, honestly, he did, but he could only deal with so much of him at one time), and Heechul didn’t like waiting. To be honest, he was too important to be left waiting, and Siwon knew it; Siwon’s Mandarin class finished around an hour after Heechul’s Literature class, and so it was completely ridiculous for Siwon to actually expect him to wait for him.
When his phone beeped in that loud, obnoxious way that he had set it do, he casually picked it up and flipped it open, expecting it to be Siwon sending him a message to remind him to wait - so desperate and needy~, would have been his reply back, without confirming whether he was waiting - but it wasn’t what he expected. Staring up at him from the small screen was a message from an unknown number.
There is a lady sweet and kind was never a face so pleased my mind; I did but see her passing by, and yet I'll love her till I die.
“What the fuck,” said Heechul.
Sungmin wandered over to the table then, apparently taking his muttered curse as a desire for service, and leant against the table with his hip, notepad poised in front of his face so that he could look like he was working while he instead chatted to Heechul. He had opened his mouth to say something when he noticed that Heechul was staring, rather dumbfounded, at his phone.
“What is it?” he asked. “Is that weird stalker guy texting you again? Because you should probably get a new phone already.”
“No,” said Heechul slowly. “Well, it’s certainly weird, and it’s certainly stalker-y, but I’m not sure it’s that guy.” He held his mobile out for Sungmin to read, who looked more and more confused by the second.
“Yeah,” said Sungmin. “I mean, weren’t his texts a lot cruder? This is - well, this is a pretty weird.”
“What the fuck,” repeated Heechul. “I mean, I’m not even a girl.”
“Wrong number?” suggested Sungmin.
“Possibly,” said Heechul, but something was tugging at the back of his mind, insistent and urgent. “But - no - I think I recognise this. Isn’t it a poem?”
“I’m a fashion major, Heechul,” said Sungmin. “What I know about poetry could fit on the head of one of my dressing pins.”
“It’s definitely a poem,” said Heechul. “It’s got a rhythm or something. I do recognise it, but I couldn’t tell you what it’s called or what the name of it is.”
“So,” said Sungmin, a bright smile coming onto his face, “is this like, a secret admirer or something?”
Heechul read the text over again, slowly and carefully, and then said, “urgh, fuck, this is like being in the movies.”
“I know, right?” squealed Sungmin. “Isn’t it fantastic?” He slipped onto the seat opposite Heechul, giving up any pretence of working. “So, who do you think it is? Anyone shown any interest recently?”
“Oh yes,” said Heechul. “I have suitors just falling all over trying to date me.”
Sungmin pouted a little. “You said that sarcastically, but it’s true. You never give anyone a chance, that’s the problem.”
“And I’m sure texting me with poetry is going to correct that,” said Heechul, and shook his head. “No, I’m just going to ignore it. However it is will get bored soon. It’s probably just a prank.”
“If they text back to ask why you aren’t messaging back,” said Sungmin, standing up slowly as his boss started to shout at him to get back to work, “please will you pass on my number? I’d love to have a secret admirer.”
“You’re a slut,” said Heechul affectionately.
“You just hate people,” said Sungmin.
“Hey!” Heechul shouted at his back. “I’m very proud of my hatred of people!”
Siwon was with him the second time it happened, looking slightly confused and worried as Heechul snatched his phone up. He had set his phone to a different message tone, a soft hum of music, if that number had come up again, just in case, and at the sound, he was rather anxious to see what was said this time - and also rather annoyed that it had happened again, which apparently showed on his face, since Siwon looked a little scared.
I sleep with thee, and wake with thee, and yet thou art not there; I fill my arms with thoughts of thee, and press the common air.
“Oh, shit,” said Heechul, screwing his nose up. “I really have got another stalker.”
“You must be doing something right, hyung,” said Siwon cheerfully, taking a sip from his coffee. Heechul slapped him on the arm and handed him the telephone to read - Siwon got a strange look on his face. “No number?” he asked.
“No,” said Heechul. “That’s the second one.”
“A bit weird, isn’t it?” said Siwon casually.
“Just slightly,” said Heechul sarcastically.
“I suppose you want them to stop,” said Siwon.
“Not really,” said Heechul. “I’m kind of interested to see where this will go next.”
As more and more of the texts came in over the next week or so, Heechul slipped from being annoyed by them to being rather intrigued in spite of himself. He looked up some of the quotes on the internet and found that they really were poems; rather famous loves poems at that. At the last one, he had sent a message back to the number, asking who it was. All he had received back was what’s in a name?, which had caused him to scream and throw the mobile across the room in frustration, before quickly rescuing it and making sure that it still worked. That’s not poetry, he texted back, complete with three angry faces.
“It must be someone I know,” said Heechul. “I mean, I don’t give my telephone number out to random people, not after last time. So it must be someone I know.”
“Well someone else could have given your number out,” said Sungmin, wiping down the table. “Don’t look at me like that, it wasn’t me. I’m just saying someone could have.”
“I’d kill whoever did,” said Heechul darkly.
“Siwon could be doing it,” said Sungmin.
“Would you stop with your ‘Siwon is in love with you’ theory?” said Heechul. “Look, I know you live in a world like a constant romance drama, but two people can be friends and not want to have sex.” Even if I would quite like that, he didn’t add.
“I know that!” protested Sungmin. “But he’s like a puppy around you!”
“Because he respects me as a hyung,” said Heechul, and rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Sungmin, I think you have problems of your own. Look at your own love life.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my love life!” said Sungmin indignantly.
“Sungmin,” said Heechul, in a tone of voice which suggested glee, smugness, amusement, or a mixture of the three, “your boyfriend is graduating this year.”
“So am I!” said Sungmin triumphantly.
“From university, Sungmin,” said Heechul. “Not from high school.”
“Henry’s very talented and mature for his age,” said Sungmin, a little cowed.
“I’m sure he is,” said Heechul. “That doesn’t change the fact that he’s eighteen and you want his dancer body.”
“Seriously, Heechul,” said Sungmin. “This is why you can never get a date.”
“Hyung!” Siwon interrupted them before Heechul could retort (and judging by the angry twist of his mouth, he was about to) by running up to them, holding onto the sleeve of another boy, who looked like he didn’t particularly want to be there. “Hyung, there’s someone here I want you to meet. This is Hankyung.”
“And you know him, how?” asked Heechul, folding his arms and tapping his foot. Siwon had an annoying habit of trying to befriend all the loners on campus.
“He’s my tutor in my Mandarin class,” said Siwon.
“He seems a little young for that,” said Heechul.
“I do some one-on-one tuition for extra money,” said Hankyung, a strange inflection in his words, an accent that seemed to be because he wasn’t pronouncing the words correctly.
“Oooh,” said Sungmin, leaning forward slightly. “Are you actually Chinese?”
“He is,” said Siwon, with something akin to pride in his voice, which made Heechul look sharply at him. “He’s an exchange student, majoring in dance.”
“Dance?” Heechul looked Hankyung up and down; there didn’t seem to be anything there which suggested that he would be able to move like those guys Heechul saw on television, the ones who didn't appear to have bones. “You don’t look like a dancer,” he said after a minute’s pause.
“And what’s a dancer supposed to look like?” asked Hankyung with a slight grin.
“Oh, sorry,” said Heechul. “What I meant was, you don’t look gay.”
Hankyung seemed to get the joke, and laughed, while Siwon shot him a warning look and quickly directed Hankyung to a seat, sliding down next to him so that Heechul was sitting opposite. Siwon, Heechul noticed, seemed to think that Hankyung was the greatest thing since instant ramen, and could barely take his eyes off him; he laughed at every joke, and while he listened to what Heechul said and took it in, he was careful around Hankyung, listening carefully to him, as if afraid that his accent would hinder Siwon’s understanding.
“Still think he’s in love with me?” asked Heechul, when the two left for a study lesson in the library, and Sungmin had come over to remove the empty plates. Sungmin shrugged.
“He acts like that around you all the time,” he said. “Like you shine brighter than anyone else in the whole world.”
“That’s because I do,” said Heechul, and a bubble of annoyance rose up in his chest as that position, at that concept of being the most important thing in Siwon’s life, was threatened by a newcomer.
“Hankyung’s hot,” said Sungmin.
“You’re such a slut,” said Heechul. “Go see your jailbait, will you?” And he left before Sungmin could retaliate.
Another text came through on his way back to the flat that he shared with Siwon, the soft hum of music causing him to scramble around in his pocket for a minute or so, almost dropping it, and gaining a couple of worried looks from passer-bys. He glanced around before he looked at the message. Fucking stalkers, he thought with a frown. Turning me fucking paranoid.
I never saw so sweet a face as that I stood before. My heart has left its dwelling place and can return no more.
Heechul was still puzzling over the hidden meaning behind it (and if there actually was one) when Siwon came home an hour or so later, happily swinging a plastic bag from his hand and announcing that he had brought home takeaway for them to eat. Chinese takeaway, Heechul noticed with a dark frown.
The mobile phone sat on the table next to him as he ate, and every so often the message would be caught by the corner of his eye. He couldn’t quite bring himself to delete it, or to clear it from the screen, but it was beginning to annoy him, and so eventually he gave a yell and turned it over.
“Did you get another one?” asked Siwon, noodle laden chopsticks paused before his mouth.
“I’ve always got another one,” said Heechul. “It’s a constant stream of poetic courting.”
Siwon choked a little, which just looked ridiculous because he still hadn’t had any of the noodles, and then gasped, “Courting? Is that what you think it is, really?”
“Yeah,” said Heechul. “God, you’re weird.”
“I wish you wouldn’t say that,” said Siwon reprovingly.
“Why?” asked Heechul, with a smirk. “It’s true though.”
“Not that,” said Siwon. “God.”
“Oh, stop preaching,” said Heechul, and stood up and reached over to pat him on the head. “Hankyung won’t like you if you keep acting like that.”
Siwon choked again.
Hankyung spent some time at their apartment soon afterwards, coming in with Siwon and staying there even when Siwon went out to his part time job. He didn’t seem to mind that he hadn’t known Heechul for as long; that Heechul talked fast and sometimes he couldn’t quite keep up with him. Heechul found himself liking Hankyung, in spite of the irrational anger at being replaced in Siwon’s mind, of no longer being the important person there. It was pointless disliking Hankyung - it was like disliking a puppy that had been left out in the rain.
“So, Hankyung,” said Heechul one day, turning to face him on the sofa a few minutes after Siwon had left. “What are you at university for?”
“I want to be a dancer,” said Hankyung.
“A dancer,” repeated Heechul, and rolled his eyes. “Why?” Hankyung looked at him confused; Heechul hit him on the arm and said loudly, “Yah! I know you can understand me!”
“I don’t understand the meaning,” said Hankyung. “Why do I want to be a dancer? I don’t know why, I just do.”
“Are you any good?” asked Heechul.
“I can show you, if you want?” said Hankyung, motioning to the wooden floor with a sweep of the arm.
“Okay!” said Heechul, and he pulled his legs up to his chest and watched, enthralled, as Hankyung danced to an unknown rhythm, one which didn’t play in the room but rather in his mind, one that Heechul could almost hear. It made him suck in a breath at the beauty of it, different from anything else that he had seen before.
“Ballet,” said Hankyung when he had finished. “Traditional Chinese dances and a bit of modern.”
“I’m hungry,” said Heechul, and jumped up from the sofa and bounded into the kitchen. Hankyung followed him laughing, and pulled him back and had a look in the cupboards.
“You have nothing,” he said. “When did you last go shopping?”
“I don’t know,” said Heechul, sitting on one of the kitchen units. “Siwon does it all.”
“Remind me to ask Siwon,” said Hankyung, and pulled a packet of rice down. “Here, I’ll make us something, and I’ll make enough for Siwon. He can heat it up when he gets back.”
They sat and ate together, a strangely easy conversation starting up between them, not hindered by Hankyung’s inability to speak perfect Korean. They got through by Heechul making motions to indicate what he meant and Hankyung making vague noises to show the same. Heechul found that he really liked Hankyung, and he bit his lip slightly as he watched him leave the apartment to go home.
Siwon came home when he was sitting in front of the television watching a film that was playing. “How did you get on?” he shouted from the doorway, pulling his shoes off and dumping his wet coat onto the back of a chair, and he made his way into the kitchen.
“Fine,” shouted Heechul. “He left you some rice, it’s on the counter. He says you can heat it up.”
“Hyung,” said Siwon, sticking his head out of the door to look at him. “Did you make him cook, when he was a guest?”
“He offered,” said Heechul. “Besides, he’s better at it than me.”
“That’s not the point,” said Siwon, and gave up.
“Hurry up,” called Heechul as he heard Siwon open the microwave door. “I’m really cold!”
“Well, get a quilt or a coat!” shouted Siwon.
“They don’t work as well as you!” shouted Heechul, and smiled triumphantly as Siwon came back into the room, a plate of rice in his hands, and he sat down and wrapped an arm around Heechul’s shoulder and pulled him close. It became apparent that it was hard to eat in that position; Heechul managed to sneak quite a few bites.
When he woke the next morning, he was in his own bed, and a new message was on his phone lying by his side.
I have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
“They’re so ambiguous,” said Heechul, after showing Sungmin. “That’s the main problem.”
“Seriously,” said Sungmin. “Seriously, you get all the luck. First you get to share an apartment with Siwon, and now some secret admirer is sending you love messages. Kim Heechul, sometimes I’d kill to be you.”
“I don’t see how anything to do with Siwon is lucky,” said Heechul absent-mindedly, flicking through his messages to see if there seemed to be any sort of continuity there.
“Oh, come on,” said Sungmin. “You both like each other. I don’t know why you keep skirting around it and denying it.”
“It’s complicated, Sungmin!” said Heechul. “You really don’t know how to be subtle or tactful, so you wouldn’t know.”
“Here’s lover boy,” said Sungmin with a glare, and flounced off to take the order of a girl sitting by the window. Heechul glanced up to see Siwon burst through the door.
“Finally,” said Heechul with a smirk. “I was beginning to think that I’d been stood up.”
“Hyung,” said Siwon. “I’m really sorry, I couldn’t get a message to you. I’m not coming home yet, I’m going to the library with Hankyung. I’ve got a test coming up and he’s going to help me revise.”
“Fine,” said Heechul. “Leave me, traitorous wretch, for your Chinese paramour. Like it? We’re writing poetry in class.”
Siwon went pale at the mention of poetry. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s good. I’m - I’ll be home late, okay? I’ll bring some takeaway, if you want, so you don’t have to cook.”
“Yeah, whatever,” said Heechul. “Go be boring, why don’t you, and leave me to fend for myself?”
“Thanks hyung,” said Siwon with considerable relief, and it wasn’t until he was at the door that he turned around and shouted, with a rather annoyed expression, “Hankyung is not my paramour!” Heechul just laughed and looked pointedly at a rather confused and shocked looking Hankyung standing outside the door.
They spent a lot of time in the library over the next three days, and at the end of them, when the exam was over and done with, Siwon turned up at the front door with Hankyung, suitcases surrounding them, worriedly asking if Hankyung could stay with them for a few days.
“What,” said Heechul. “What the fuck, don’t you have somewhere else to live?”
“I did,” said Hankyung. “But my roommate’s boyfriend is moving in and I’m moving out.”
“You are fair too nice for your own good,” said Heechul, and stood back with a sigh. “Fine,” he said. “If only because you won’t survive the night otherwise.”
“Thanks, hyung,” said Siwon gratefully, and hugged him with one arm as he went past, pulling one of the suitcases with him. Heechul pushed him away and followed the two, shouting that he didn’t know where Hankyung was going to stay, but it certainly wasn’t in his room, and that if they put one of the suitcases on his cat, there would be hell to pay. Hankyung couldn’t stop laughing, face alight, until Heechul pulled him down onto the couch with Siwon and him and told him to be quiet, his favourite show was on.
Hankyung had originally only supposed to be there for a few days until he found somewhere else, but it seemed like he had moved in at that point - he even started paying some of the rent. They got him his own key, and one day Heechul came home to find Hankyung sitting in the main room, an open book resting on his knees, a pen between his teeth and a thoughtful expression on his face. Heechul bent down to look at the title of it before Hankyung could hide it.
“I didn’t know you were into literature,” he said mildly, putting his bag down and picking up Heebum, who put up with the stroking for a couple of seconds before jumping back down.
“I’m trying to improve my Korean,” said Hankyung with a nervous laugh, closed the book and stood up with a stretch. “Want me to make something to eat?” he asked casually.
“Why are you even asking?” asked Heechul, pushing him insistently to the kitchen.
Heechul almost slipped on a sheet of paper coming out of the bathroom the next morning, and he picked it up to see that it was covered in Siwon’s handwriting. He quickly glanced over it, raised his eyebrows and went into the kitchen, holding it out.
“Siwon,” he said. “I slipped on your page of poetry.” Siwon dropped his chopsticks. “If it happens again,” Heechul continued, “then you may wake up to no hair, got it?”
“Yeah,” said Siwon, and snatched it off him, giving Hankyung a strange, apologetic look as the older boy said something in an annoyed tone. “Yeah, sorry.”
“Have you been writing?” asked Heechul.
“No,” said Siwon, looking a little like a deer caught in headlights. “No, it’s just-”
“Hey Heechul,” said Hankyung quickly, standing up. “Do you want some breakfast?” Heechul immediately lost interest in whatever Siwon had to say, choosing instead to follow Hankyung over to the stove, and hang over his shoulders.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea by sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown till human voices wake up, and we drown.
“I don’t know,” said Sungmin sceptically, looking over his shoulder. “Do you not think that these are getting a little weird?”
“Yeah,” said Heechul slowly.
“Maybe he’s running out of ideas?” suggested Sungmin.
“I recognise this,” said Heechul suddenly. “I know this from somewhere.”
“You’re a literature student,” Sungmin reminded him. “You probably read it in class.”
“No,” insisted Heechul. “Recently. I saw this exact quote somewhere. I just can’t remember where.”
“Here’s Hankyung,” said Sungmin. “I don’t know about you, I thought you liked Siwon.”
“Oh, go away,” said Heechul, flapping a hand at him. “You have to make everything into a soap opera, don’t you?”
“They’re so much more interesting than real life,” said Sungmin with a grin. “Well, my life, at least,” and he walked off, waving at Hankyung as he came neared and slipped into the seat opposite. Heechul showed him the message, and he just stared blankly at him.
“I don’t understand it,” he said.
“No, you wouldn’t,” said Heechul sympathetically, and patted him on the head.
That night another text came through as he sat, curled up, on the sofa. Siwon and Hankyung came through into the main room almost as soon as it came through; they sat down, Siwon next to him and Hankyung on a chair opposite, as Heechul snatched his phone up and looked at the latest offering.
Take me to you, imprison me, for I, except you'enthrall me, never shall be free, nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
“Okay, what the fuck,” said Heechul. “That makes no sense.”
He immediately tapped in a response (If you’re going to text me, then at least make sense) and clicked send; a beeping came from the vicinity of Hankyung, who looked up, a bit startled, and then choked on his tongue.
Heechul paused, thoughtful, and rang the number that he had on his screen, and a ringtone started up from around Hankyung, who jumped up and pulled a mobile phone from his pocket, as Siwon said frantically, “Probably just your mother, right, hyung? She’s always ringing him.”
“You told me you didn’t have a mobile phone,” said Heechul mildly. Hankyung winced. “Is it you?” Heechul asked, uncurling from the sofa, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Was it you who’s been texting me for the past few months?”
“No,” said Siwon. “It was - well, yes. But we, we were doing it together.”
“God,” said Heechul. “It must have cost you a fortune.”
“Yeah,” said Siwon nervously.
“You,” said Heechul. “What the fuck were you playing at? What the - what on earth is this supposed to even mean? Why have you been texting me?”
“Constant stream of poetic courting,” said Siwon softly. Heechul turned to stare at him. “That’s what you called it, hyung.”
“While I also agree that it’s important to remember everything I say,” said Heechul, “what do you mean by it?”
“I ne'er was struck before that hour with love so sudden and so sweet,” said Hankyung suddenly, dropping his phone onto the chair behind him and walking forwards, taking a bemused Heechul by the hand and pulling him upright. He leant in, brushed his thumb across Heechul’s bottom lip. “Her face, it bloomed like a sweet flower, and stole my heart away complete.”
“You’re so corny,” said Heechul, just before Hankyung kissed him, fingers brushing across his jaw with a tentativeness that made Heechul laugh slightly and press forward, come closer, until his hand was pressed to Hankyung’s chest when he pulled away, and turned to kiss Siwon, who rested his hand on Hankyung’s shoulder and moved his mouth from Hankyung’s to Heechul’s ear.
“Thy eyes are gazing upon mine when thou art out of sight,” he said softly, fingers curling around Heechul’s neck, other hand pulling with experienced ease at Hankyung’s belt. “My lips are always touching thine at morning, noon, and night.”
“Seriously,” gasped out Heechul. “Why do I even know you two?”
Fandom: Super Junior AU (College)
Pairing: Siwon/Hankyung/Heechul
Word count: 4,258
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There is a lady sweet and kind was never a face so pleased my mind; I did but see her passing by, and yet I'll love her till I die.
A/N: For sjvignettes, week three, challenge one. Also because Shihanchul has been owning me lately. My John Clare bias, let me show you it.
I worked out today that I’ve written over 88,000 words since July. I’ve written almost 300,000 words this year. I don’t know why you all just don’t put me out of my misery.
I've changed the line. Apologies - it was unintentional.
Sitting waiting for Siwon in the college cafeteria was like waiting for Eeteuk to get up in a morning - it wasn’t happening any time soon (one of the reasons Heechul had moved out in the first place, though there were others, like the amount of time Eeteuk spent in the bathroom, and having Kangin constantly around; Heechul liked Kangin, honestly, he did, but he could only deal with so much of him at one time), and Heechul didn’t like waiting. To be honest, he was too important to be left waiting, and Siwon knew it; Siwon’s Mandarin class finished around an hour after Heechul’s Literature class, and so it was completely ridiculous for Siwon to actually expect him to wait for him.
When his phone beeped in that loud, obnoxious way that he had set it do, he casually picked it up and flipped it open, expecting it to be Siwon sending him a message to remind him to wait - so desperate and needy~, would have been his reply back, without confirming whether he was waiting - but it wasn’t what he expected. Staring up at him from the small screen was a message from an unknown number.
There is a lady sweet and kind was never a face so pleased my mind; I did but see her passing by, and yet I'll love her till I die.
“What the fuck,” said Heechul.
Sungmin wandered over to the table then, apparently taking his muttered curse as a desire for service, and leant against the table with his hip, notepad poised in front of his face so that he could look like he was working while he instead chatted to Heechul. He had opened his mouth to say something when he noticed that Heechul was staring, rather dumbfounded, at his phone.
“What is it?” he asked. “Is that weird stalker guy texting you again? Because you should probably get a new phone already.”
“No,” said Heechul slowly. “Well, it’s certainly weird, and it’s certainly stalker-y, but I’m not sure it’s that guy.” He held his mobile out for Sungmin to read, who looked more and more confused by the second.
“Yeah,” said Sungmin. “I mean, weren’t his texts a lot cruder? This is - well, this is a pretty weird.”
“What the fuck,” repeated Heechul. “I mean, I’m not even a girl.”
“Wrong number?” suggested Sungmin.
“Possibly,” said Heechul, but something was tugging at the back of his mind, insistent and urgent. “But - no - I think I recognise this. Isn’t it a poem?”
“I’m a fashion major, Heechul,” said Sungmin. “What I know about poetry could fit on the head of one of my dressing pins.”
“It’s definitely a poem,” said Heechul. “It’s got a rhythm or something. I do recognise it, but I couldn’t tell you what it’s called or what the name of it is.”
“So,” said Sungmin, a bright smile coming onto his face, “is this like, a secret admirer or something?”
Heechul read the text over again, slowly and carefully, and then said, “urgh, fuck, this is like being in the movies.”
“I know, right?” squealed Sungmin. “Isn’t it fantastic?” He slipped onto the seat opposite Heechul, giving up any pretence of working. “So, who do you think it is? Anyone shown any interest recently?”
“Oh yes,” said Heechul. “I have suitors just falling all over trying to date me.”
Sungmin pouted a little. “You said that sarcastically, but it’s true. You never give anyone a chance, that’s the problem.”
“And I’m sure texting me with poetry is going to correct that,” said Heechul, and shook his head. “No, I’m just going to ignore it. However it is will get bored soon. It’s probably just a prank.”
“If they text back to ask why you aren’t messaging back,” said Sungmin, standing up slowly as his boss started to shout at him to get back to work, “please will you pass on my number? I’d love to have a secret admirer.”
“You’re a slut,” said Heechul affectionately.
“You just hate people,” said Sungmin.
“Hey!” Heechul shouted at his back. “I’m very proud of my hatred of people!”
Siwon was with him the second time it happened, looking slightly confused and worried as Heechul snatched his phone up. He had set his phone to a different message tone, a soft hum of music, if that number had come up again, just in case, and at the sound, he was rather anxious to see what was said this time - and also rather annoyed that it had happened again, which apparently showed on his face, since Siwon looked a little scared.
I sleep with thee, and wake with thee, and yet thou art not there; I fill my arms with thoughts of thee, and press the common air.
“Oh, shit,” said Heechul, screwing his nose up. “I really have got another stalker.”
“You must be doing something right, hyung,” said Siwon cheerfully, taking a sip from his coffee. Heechul slapped him on the arm and handed him the telephone to read - Siwon got a strange look on his face. “No number?” he asked.
“No,” said Heechul. “That’s the second one.”
“A bit weird, isn’t it?” said Siwon casually.
“Just slightly,” said Heechul sarcastically.
“I suppose you want them to stop,” said Siwon.
“Not really,” said Heechul. “I’m kind of interested to see where this will go next.”
As more and more of the texts came in over the next week or so, Heechul slipped from being annoyed by them to being rather intrigued in spite of himself. He looked up some of the quotes on the internet and found that they really were poems; rather famous loves poems at that. At the last one, he had sent a message back to the number, asking who it was. All he had received back was what’s in a name?, which had caused him to scream and throw the mobile across the room in frustration, before quickly rescuing it and making sure that it still worked. That’s not poetry, he texted back, complete with three angry faces.
“It must be someone I know,” said Heechul. “I mean, I don’t give my telephone number out to random people, not after last time. So it must be someone I know.”
“Well someone else could have given your number out,” said Sungmin, wiping down the table. “Don’t look at me like that, it wasn’t me. I’m just saying someone could have.”
“I’d kill whoever did,” said Heechul darkly.
“Siwon could be doing it,” said Sungmin.
“Would you stop with your ‘Siwon is in love with you’ theory?” said Heechul. “Look, I know you live in a world like a constant romance drama, but two people can be friends and not want to have sex.” Even if I would quite like that, he didn’t add.
“I know that!” protested Sungmin. “But he’s like a puppy around you!”
“Because he respects me as a hyung,” said Heechul, and rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Sungmin, I think you have problems of your own. Look at your own love life.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my love life!” said Sungmin indignantly.
“Sungmin,” said Heechul, in a tone of voice which suggested glee, smugness, amusement, or a mixture of the three, “your boyfriend is graduating this year.”
“So am I!” said Sungmin triumphantly.
“From university, Sungmin,” said Heechul. “Not from high school.”
“Henry’s very talented and mature for his age,” said Sungmin, a little cowed.
“I’m sure he is,” said Heechul. “That doesn’t change the fact that he’s eighteen and you want his dancer body.”
“Seriously, Heechul,” said Sungmin. “This is why you can never get a date.”
“Hyung!” Siwon interrupted them before Heechul could retort (and judging by the angry twist of his mouth, he was about to) by running up to them, holding onto the sleeve of another boy, who looked like he didn’t particularly want to be there. “Hyung, there’s someone here I want you to meet. This is Hankyung.”
“And you know him, how?” asked Heechul, folding his arms and tapping his foot. Siwon had an annoying habit of trying to befriend all the loners on campus.
“He’s my tutor in my Mandarin class,” said Siwon.
“He seems a little young for that,” said Heechul.
“I do some one-on-one tuition for extra money,” said Hankyung, a strange inflection in his words, an accent that seemed to be because he wasn’t pronouncing the words correctly.
“Oooh,” said Sungmin, leaning forward slightly. “Are you actually Chinese?”
“He is,” said Siwon, with something akin to pride in his voice, which made Heechul look sharply at him. “He’s an exchange student, majoring in dance.”
“Dance?” Heechul looked Hankyung up and down; there didn’t seem to be anything there which suggested that he would be able to move like those guys Heechul saw on television, the ones who didn't appear to have bones. “You don’t look like a dancer,” he said after a minute’s pause.
“And what’s a dancer supposed to look like?” asked Hankyung with a slight grin.
“Oh, sorry,” said Heechul. “What I meant was, you don’t look gay.”
Hankyung seemed to get the joke, and laughed, while Siwon shot him a warning look and quickly directed Hankyung to a seat, sliding down next to him so that Heechul was sitting opposite. Siwon, Heechul noticed, seemed to think that Hankyung was the greatest thing since instant ramen, and could barely take his eyes off him; he laughed at every joke, and while he listened to what Heechul said and took it in, he was careful around Hankyung, listening carefully to him, as if afraid that his accent would hinder Siwon’s understanding.
“Still think he’s in love with me?” asked Heechul, when the two left for a study lesson in the library, and Sungmin had come over to remove the empty plates. Sungmin shrugged.
“He acts like that around you all the time,” he said. “Like you shine brighter than anyone else in the whole world.”
“That’s because I do,” said Heechul, and a bubble of annoyance rose up in his chest as that position, at that concept of being the most important thing in Siwon’s life, was threatened by a newcomer.
“Hankyung’s hot,” said Sungmin.
“You’re such a slut,” said Heechul. “Go see your jailbait, will you?” And he left before Sungmin could retaliate.
Another text came through on his way back to the flat that he shared with Siwon, the soft hum of music causing him to scramble around in his pocket for a minute or so, almost dropping it, and gaining a couple of worried looks from passer-bys. He glanced around before he looked at the message. Fucking stalkers, he thought with a frown. Turning me fucking paranoid.
I never saw so sweet a face as that I stood before. My heart has left its dwelling place and can return no more.
Heechul was still puzzling over the hidden meaning behind it (and if there actually was one) when Siwon came home an hour or so later, happily swinging a plastic bag from his hand and announcing that he had brought home takeaway for them to eat. Chinese takeaway, Heechul noticed with a dark frown.
The mobile phone sat on the table next to him as he ate, and every so often the message would be caught by the corner of his eye. He couldn’t quite bring himself to delete it, or to clear it from the screen, but it was beginning to annoy him, and so eventually he gave a yell and turned it over.
“Did you get another one?” asked Siwon, noodle laden chopsticks paused before his mouth.
“I’ve always got another one,” said Heechul. “It’s a constant stream of poetic courting.”
Siwon choked a little, which just looked ridiculous because he still hadn’t had any of the noodles, and then gasped, “Courting? Is that what you think it is, really?”
“Yeah,” said Heechul. “God, you’re weird.”
“I wish you wouldn’t say that,” said Siwon reprovingly.
“Why?” asked Heechul, with a smirk. “It’s true though.”
“Not that,” said Siwon. “God.”
“Oh, stop preaching,” said Heechul, and stood up and reached over to pat him on the head. “Hankyung won’t like you if you keep acting like that.”
Siwon choked again.
Hankyung spent some time at their apartment soon afterwards, coming in with Siwon and staying there even when Siwon went out to his part time job. He didn’t seem to mind that he hadn’t known Heechul for as long; that Heechul talked fast and sometimes he couldn’t quite keep up with him. Heechul found himself liking Hankyung, in spite of the irrational anger at being replaced in Siwon’s mind, of no longer being the important person there. It was pointless disliking Hankyung - it was like disliking a puppy that had been left out in the rain.
“So, Hankyung,” said Heechul one day, turning to face him on the sofa a few minutes after Siwon had left. “What are you at university for?”
“I want to be a dancer,” said Hankyung.
“A dancer,” repeated Heechul, and rolled his eyes. “Why?” Hankyung looked at him confused; Heechul hit him on the arm and said loudly, “Yah! I know you can understand me!”
“I don’t understand the meaning,” said Hankyung. “Why do I want to be a dancer? I don’t know why, I just do.”
“Are you any good?” asked Heechul.
“I can show you, if you want?” said Hankyung, motioning to the wooden floor with a sweep of the arm.
“Okay!” said Heechul, and he pulled his legs up to his chest and watched, enthralled, as Hankyung danced to an unknown rhythm, one which didn’t play in the room but rather in his mind, one that Heechul could almost hear. It made him suck in a breath at the beauty of it, different from anything else that he had seen before.
“Ballet,” said Hankyung when he had finished. “Traditional Chinese dances and a bit of modern.”
“I’m hungry,” said Heechul, and jumped up from the sofa and bounded into the kitchen. Hankyung followed him laughing, and pulled him back and had a look in the cupboards.
“You have nothing,” he said. “When did you last go shopping?”
“I don’t know,” said Heechul, sitting on one of the kitchen units. “Siwon does it all.”
“Remind me to ask Siwon,” said Hankyung, and pulled a packet of rice down. “Here, I’ll make us something, and I’ll make enough for Siwon. He can heat it up when he gets back.”
They sat and ate together, a strangely easy conversation starting up between them, not hindered by Hankyung’s inability to speak perfect Korean. They got through by Heechul making motions to indicate what he meant and Hankyung making vague noises to show the same. Heechul found that he really liked Hankyung, and he bit his lip slightly as he watched him leave the apartment to go home.
Siwon came home when he was sitting in front of the television watching a film that was playing. “How did you get on?” he shouted from the doorway, pulling his shoes off and dumping his wet coat onto the back of a chair, and he made his way into the kitchen.
“Fine,” shouted Heechul. “He left you some rice, it’s on the counter. He says you can heat it up.”
“Hyung,” said Siwon, sticking his head out of the door to look at him. “Did you make him cook, when he was a guest?”
“He offered,” said Heechul. “Besides, he’s better at it than me.”
“That’s not the point,” said Siwon, and gave up.
“Hurry up,” called Heechul as he heard Siwon open the microwave door. “I’m really cold!”
“Well, get a quilt or a coat!” shouted Siwon.
“They don’t work as well as you!” shouted Heechul, and smiled triumphantly as Siwon came back into the room, a plate of rice in his hands, and he sat down and wrapped an arm around Heechul’s shoulder and pulled him close. It became apparent that it was hard to eat in that position; Heechul managed to sneak quite a few bites.
When he woke the next morning, he was in his own bed, and a new message was on his phone lying by his side.
I have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
“They’re so ambiguous,” said Heechul, after showing Sungmin. “That’s the main problem.”
“Seriously,” said Sungmin. “Seriously, you get all the luck. First you get to share an apartment with Siwon, and now some secret admirer is sending you love messages. Kim Heechul, sometimes I’d kill to be you.”
“I don’t see how anything to do with Siwon is lucky,” said Heechul absent-mindedly, flicking through his messages to see if there seemed to be any sort of continuity there.
“Oh, come on,” said Sungmin. “You both like each other. I don’t know why you keep skirting around it and denying it.”
“It’s complicated, Sungmin!” said Heechul. “You really don’t know how to be subtle or tactful, so you wouldn’t know.”
“Here’s lover boy,” said Sungmin with a glare, and flounced off to take the order of a girl sitting by the window. Heechul glanced up to see Siwon burst through the door.
“Finally,” said Heechul with a smirk. “I was beginning to think that I’d been stood up.”
“Hyung,” said Siwon. “I’m really sorry, I couldn’t get a message to you. I’m not coming home yet, I’m going to the library with Hankyung. I’ve got a test coming up and he’s going to help me revise.”
“Fine,” said Heechul. “Leave me, traitorous wretch, for your Chinese paramour. Like it? We’re writing poetry in class.”
Siwon went pale at the mention of poetry. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s good. I’m - I’ll be home late, okay? I’ll bring some takeaway, if you want, so you don’t have to cook.”
“Yeah, whatever,” said Heechul. “Go be boring, why don’t you, and leave me to fend for myself?”
“Thanks hyung,” said Siwon with considerable relief, and it wasn’t until he was at the door that he turned around and shouted, with a rather annoyed expression, “Hankyung is not my paramour!” Heechul just laughed and looked pointedly at a rather confused and shocked looking Hankyung standing outside the door.
They spent a lot of time in the library over the next three days, and at the end of them, when the exam was over and done with, Siwon turned up at the front door with Hankyung, suitcases surrounding them, worriedly asking if Hankyung could stay with them for a few days.
“What,” said Heechul. “What the fuck, don’t you have somewhere else to live?”
“I did,” said Hankyung. “But my roommate’s boyfriend is moving in and I’m moving out.”
“You are fair too nice for your own good,” said Heechul, and stood back with a sigh. “Fine,” he said. “If only because you won’t survive the night otherwise.”
“Thanks, hyung,” said Siwon gratefully, and hugged him with one arm as he went past, pulling one of the suitcases with him. Heechul pushed him away and followed the two, shouting that he didn’t know where Hankyung was going to stay, but it certainly wasn’t in his room, and that if they put one of the suitcases on his cat, there would be hell to pay. Hankyung couldn’t stop laughing, face alight, until Heechul pulled him down onto the couch with Siwon and him and told him to be quiet, his favourite show was on.
Hankyung had originally only supposed to be there for a few days until he found somewhere else, but it seemed like he had moved in at that point - he even started paying some of the rent. They got him his own key, and one day Heechul came home to find Hankyung sitting in the main room, an open book resting on his knees, a pen between his teeth and a thoughtful expression on his face. Heechul bent down to look at the title of it before Hankyung could hide it.
“I didn’t know you were into literature,” he said mildly, putting his bag down and picking up Heebum, who put up with the stroking for a couple of seconds before jumping back down.
“I’m trying to improve my Korean,” said Hankyung with a nervous laugh, closed the book and stood up with a stretch. “Want me to make something to eat?” he asked casually.
“Why are you even asking?” asked Heechul, pushing him insistently to the kitchen.
Heechul almost slipped on a sheet of paper coming out of the bathroom the next morning, and he picked it up to see that it was covered in Siwon’s handwriting. He quickly glanced over it, raised his eyebrows and went into the kitchen, holding it out.
“Siwon,” he said. “I slipped on your page of poetry.” Siwon dropped his chopsticks. “If it happens again,” Heechul continued, “then you may wake up to no hair, got it?”
“Yeah,” said Siwon, and snatched it off him, giving Hankyung a strange, apologetic look as the older boy said something in an annoyed tone. “Yeah, sorry.”
“Have you been writing?” asked Heechul.
“No,” said Siwon, looking a little like a deer caught in headlights. “No, it’s just-”
“Hey Heechul,” said Hankyung quickly, standing up. “Do you want some breakfast?” Heechul immediately lost interest in whatever Siwon had to say, choosing instead to follow Hankyung over to the stove, and hang over his shoulders.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea by sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown till human voices wake up, and we drown.
“I don’t know,” said Sungmin sceptically, looking over his shoulder. “Do you not think that these are getting a little weird?”
“Yeah,” said Heechul slowly.
“Maybe he’s running out of ideas?” suggested Sungmin.
“I recognise this,” said Heechul suddenly. “I know this from somewhere.”
“You’re a literature student,” Sungmin reminded him. “You probably read it in class.”
“No,” insisted Heechul. “Recently. I saw this exact quote somewhere. I just can’t remember where.”
“Here’s Hankyung,” said Sungmin. “I don’t know about you, I thought you liked Siwon.”
“Oh, go away,” said Heechul, flapping a hand at him. “You have to make everything into a soap opera, don’t you?”
“They’re so much more interesting than real life,” said Sungmin with a grin. “Well, my life, at least,” and he walked off, waving at Hankyung as he came neared and slipped into the seat opposite. Heechul showed him the message, and he just stared blankly at him.
“I don’t understand it,” he said.
“No, you wouldn’t,” said Heechul sympathetically, and patted him on the head.
That night another text came through as he sat, curled up, on the sofa. Siwon and Hankyung came through into the main room almost as soon as it came through; they sat down, Siwon next to him and Hankyung on a chair opposite, as Heechul snatched his phone up and looked at the latest offering.
Take me to you, imprison me, for I, except you'enthrall me, never shall be free, nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
“Okay, what the fuck,” said Heechul. “That makes no sense.”
He immediately tapped in a response (If you’re going to text me, then at least make sense) and clicked send; a beeping came from the vicinity of Hankyung, who looked up, a bit startled, and then choked on his tongue.
Heechul paused, thoughtful, and rang the number that he had on his screen, and a ringtone started up from around Hankyung, who jumped up and pulled a mobile phone from his pocket, as Siwon said frantically, “Probably just your mother, right, hyung? She’s always ringing him.”
“You told me you didn’t have a mobile phone,” said Heechul mildly. Hankyung winced. “Is it you?” Heechul asked, uncurling from the sofa, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Was it you who’s been texting me for the past few months?”
“No,” said Siwon. “It was - well, yes. But we, we were doing it together.”
“God,” said Heechul. “It must have cost you a fortune.”
“Yeah,” said Siwon nervously.
“You,” said Heechul. “What the fuck were you playing at? What the - what on earth is this supposed to even mean? Why have you been texting me?”
“Constant stream of poetic courting,” said Siwon softly. Heechul turned to stare at him. “That’s what you called it, hyung.”
“While I also agree that it’s important to remember everything I say,” said Heechul, “what do you mean by it?”
“I ne'er was struck before that hour with love so sudden and so sweet,” said Hankyung suddenly, dropping his phone onto the chair behind him and walking forwards, taking a bemused Heechul by the hand and pulling him upright. He leant in, brushed his thumb across Heechul’s bottom lip. “Her face, it bloomed like a sweet flower, and stole my heart away complete.”
“You’re so corny,” said Heechul, just before Hankyung kissed him, fingers brushing across his jaw with a tentativeness that made Heechul laugh slightly and press forward, come closer, until his hand was pressed to Hankyung’s chest when he pulled away, and turned to kiss Siwon, who rested his hand on Hankyung’s shoulder and moved his mouth from Hankyung’s to Heechul’s ear.
“Thy eyes are gazing upon mine when thou art out of sight,” he said softly, fingers curling around Heechul’s neck, other hand pulling with experienced ease at Hankyung’s belt. “My lips are always touching thine at morning, noon, and night.”
“Seriously,” gasped out Heechul. “Why do I even know you two?”