[05] like a paper airplane to your heart; qmi; g
title: like a paper airplane to your heart
fandom: super junior m
pairing: zhou mi/kyuhyun
rating: G
summary: kyuhyun's love letters are written in paper and sent by plane.
They had Donghae hostage, holding him still as they rubbed a foundation pad over his face. He stood patiently, though anyone could see he was dying to run off, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. The sun was high in the blue, blue sky; it was a beautiful day, just the right amount of chill in the crisp air to make their cheeks red and eyes bright. It was perfect for filming, their director declared, looking satisfied.
It was perfect for playing, the members had decided instead.
Henry was chasing Siwon around the grassy field, and a hair stylist stood to the side making despairing gestures. She covered her face and sighed, shoulder slumping, when Donghae practically tore away after them, laughing, after the last powdered pat to his cheek.
"Not you too," she mumbled into her hands, as the wind whipped through Donghae's tousled locks. "Your hair..."
"Attaaack," Donghae shouted as he pounced on Henry and they collapsed onto the grass in giggles, Henry flailing and bystanders wincing. When they sat up, their smiles were too wide; they tugged their clothes into place with the look of mischievous little boys who knew they were trying their parents' patience.
Kyuhyun sat cross-legged some distance away on the field, neat and primped for the camera, folding paper airplanes.
Ryeowook hovered over his shoulder, waiting for his turn with the long-suffering stylists now trying to tame Siwon's windblown locks. No more horseplay. The stylist's voice was severe and disapproving. But when Kyuhyun looked up, she was smiling. No one could resist the sheepish little smile Siwon donned when he was being playful. He shared a smile of his own with Ryeowook, conspiratorial, and creased the last fold with the edge of his fingernail.
He handed two planes to Ryeowook, his lips curving. "Full frontal attack," he said, and launched his own plane.
The white paper sailed into the air with a swing of his arm, arcing above their heads to momentarily block out the sun. Then it moved on, across that blue sky like a determined little folded cloud, diving with a purpose into Zhou Mi's arm. The nose of the plane blunted against his leather jacket, but Kyuhyun was more distracted with the way Zhou Mi's nose wrinkled in surprise. His mouth fell open into a little "oh" as he tracked the origin of his assailant.
He laughed, pleased.
"Prepare to surrender, hyung!" Ryeowook cried at Han Geng, sending his planes off toward where their leader stood talking with a hostaged Siwon.
One plane skated past Han Geng's cheek and he widened his eyes in surprise. Kyuhyun shook with snickers at the stylist's pained expression when the second plane nose-dived between Siwon and Han Geng, missing the brush in Siwon's hair by centimeters.
"We will never surrender," Donghae said, scrambling to Han Geng's side. He picked up the planes from the ground and sent them right back toward Ryeowook and Kyuhyun, grinning victoriously. "HenHae leader defense to the rescue!"
Kyuhyun handed Ryeowook more planes from their carefully folded stash, and Henry abandoned Donghae to join Ryeowook's side. He laughed at Donghae's betrayed expression. "They have all the ammunition," he explained. "You have to take these things into consideration!" And then his plane flew past Donghae, missing by a good three feet.
Donghae smirked, triumphant. "But we have all the aim."
The grass tickled Kyuhyun's fingers as he pressed another sheet of paper into the ground, rapidly folding more planes to restock their forces. He blinked as a plane sailed neatly into his lap, hands stopping mid-motion as he regarded the paper attack. His eyes flicked up; Zhou Mi was bounding across the field, smile blinding and just a little smug.
"Gotcha," he declared, tumbling down next to Kyuhyun and leaning into him heavily.
"No," Kyuhyun said, pointing a finger. "You're a hostage. You're on our side now." He then solemnly extended his newly-folded plane. Zhou Mi only laughed and brushed it aside to pluck his plane from Kyuhyun's lap, and the sound of his voice, bright and sweet in the crisp air, warmed Kyuhyun from the inside out.
"There's a message for you, Kui Xian," he said, fingers unfolding the plane.
"Help!" wailed Ryeowook from beside them, taking off suddenly at a run. Han Geng was on hot on his heels.
"This is what you get for attacking your leader!"
Henry cheered Ryeowook on, falling onto his back in the grass, chortling. He crushed half a plane beneath him, but Kyuhyun didn't notice as he eyed the sweep of hair over Zhou Mi's smiling eyes. He took the unfolded plane from Zhou Mi's hands and glanced down at the paper.
Look up, it said.
He lifted his head and found Zhou Mi's finger firmly on his nose.
"Made you look," he crowed.
Kyuhyun tackled him. "How are you this lame," he demanded breathlessly between his laughter, and they rolled across the grass. In the background, he could hear the exasperated shouts from their stylist and, beyond that, snaps of the camera. Their director had yet to cut up a fuss; he was a resourceful man, and surely these photographs of a playful Super Junior M could be useable. Kyuhyun paid none of this mind, caught up in avoiding Zhou Mi's tickling fingers and a misplaced knee.
They caught their breaths lying on their backs, staring up at the sky and clouds, arms tangled and smelling of fresh grass. Kyuhyun shaded his eyes with his free hand, grinning as four more white airplanes streamed across the air, launched in attack and accompanied by war cries.
"Hey," said Zhou Mi from his left.
Kyuhyun turned and a long, bony finger poked into his cheek.
Zhou Mi giggled. "I can't believe you fell for that again."
"I hate you," Kyuhyun said, turning his head back toward the sky, but his voice was anything but annoyed. He let his eyes close, breathing in deep, as the breeze cooled his heated skin. A bright, warm feeling fluttered content in his chest as Zhou Mi chuckled beside him and linked their fingers loosely, an anchor under the brilliance of the sun.
fandom: super junior m
pairing: zhou mi/kyuhyun
rating: G
summary: kyuhyun's love letters are written in paper and sent by plane.
They had Donghae hostage, holding him still as they rubbed a foundation pad over his face. He stood patiently, though anyone could see he was dying to run off, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. The sun was high in the blue, blue sky; it was a beautiful day, just the right amount of chill in the crisp air to make their cheeks red and eyes bright. It was perfect for filming, their director declared, looking satisfied.
It was perfect for playing, the members had decided instead.
Henry was chasing Siwon around the grassy field, and a hair stylist stood to the side making despairing gestures. She covered her face and sighed, shoulder slumping, when Donghae practically tore away after them, laughing, after the last powdered pat to his cheek.
"Not you too," she mumbled into her hands, as the wind whipped through Donghae's tousled locks. "Your hair..."
"Attaaack," Donghae shouted as he pounced on Henry and they collapsed onto the grass in giggles, Henry flailing and bystanders wincing. When they sat up, their smiles were too wide; they tugged their clothes into place with the look of mischievous little boys who knew they were trying their parents' patience.
Kyuhyun sat cross-legged some distance away on the field, neat and primped for the camera, folding paper airplanes.
Ryeowook hovered over his shoulder, waiting for his turn with the long-suffering stylists now trying to tame Siwon's windblown locks. No more horseplay. The stylist's voice was severe and disapproving. But when Kyuhyun looked up, she was smiling. No one could resist the sheepish little smile Siwon donned when he was being playful. He shared a smile of his own with Ryeowook, conspiratorial, and creased the last fold with the edge of his fingernail.
He handed two planes to Ryeowook, his lips curving. "Full frontal attack," he said, and launched his own plane.
The white paper sailed into the air with a swing of his arm, arcing above their heads to momentarily block out the sun. Then it moved on, across that blue sky like a determined little folded cloud, diving with a purpose into Zhou Mi's arm. The nose of the plane blunted against his leather jacket, but Kyuhyun was more distracted with the way Zhou Mi's nose wrinkled in surprise. His mouth fell open into a little "oh" as he tracked the origin of his assailant.
He laughed, pleased.
"Prepare to surrender, hyung!" Ryeowook cried at Han Geng, sending his planes off toward where their leader stood talking with a hostaged Siwon.
One plane skated past Han Geng's cheek and he widened his eyes in surprise. Kyuhyun shook with snickers at the stylist's pained expression when the second plane nose-dived between Siwon and Han Geng, missing the brush in Siwon's hair by centimeters.
"We will never surrender," Donghae said, scrambling to Han Geng's side. He picked up the planes from the ground and sent them right back toward Ryeowook and Kyuhyun, grinning victoriously. "HenHae leader defense to the rescue!"
Kyuhyun handed Ryeowook more planes from their carefully folded stash, and Henry abandoned Donghae to join Ryeowook's side. He laughed at Donghae's betrayed expression. "They have all the ammunition," he explained. "You have to take these things into consideration!" And then his plane flew past Donghae, missing by a good three feet.
Donghae smirked, triumphant. "But we have all the aim."
The grass tickled Kyuhyun's fingers as he pressed another sheet of paper into the ground, rapidly folding more planes to restock their forces. He blinked as a plane sailed neatly into his lap, hands stopping mid-motion as he regarded the paper attack. His eyes flicked up; Zhou Mi was bounding across the field, smile blinding and just a little smug.
"Gotcha," he declared, tumbling down next to Kyuhyun and leaning into him heavily.
"No," Kyuhyun said, pointing a finger. "You're a hostage. You're on our side now." He then solemnly extended his newly-folded plane. Zhou Mi only laughed and brushed it aside to pluck his plane from Kyuhyun's lap, and the sound of his voice, bright and sweet in the crisp air, warmed Kyuhyun from the inside out.
"There's a message for you, Kui Xian," he said, fingers unfolding the plane.
"Help!" wailed Ryeowook from beside them, taking off suddenly at a run. Han Geng was on hot on his heels.
"This is what you get for attacking your leader!"
Henry cheered Ryeowook on, falling onto his back in the grass, chortling. He crushed half a plane beneath him, but Kyuhyun didn't notice as he eyed the sweep of hair over Zhou Mi's smiling eyes. He took the unfolded plane from Zhou Mi's hands and glanced down at the paper.
Look up, it said.
He lifted his head and found Zhou Mi's finger firmly on his nose.
"Made you look," he crowed.
Kyuhyun tackled him. "How are you this lame," he demanded breathlessly between his laughter, and they rolled across the grass. In the background, he could hear the exasperated shouts from their stylist and, beyond that, snaps of the camera. Their director had yet to cut up a fuss; he was a resourceful man, and surely these photographs of a playful Super Junior M could be useable. Kyuhyun paid none of this mind, caught up in avoiding Zhou Mi's tickling fingers and a misplaced knee.
They caught their breaths lying on their backs, staring up at the sky and clouds, arms tangled and smelling of fresh grass. Kyuhyun shaded his eyes with his free hand, grinning as four more white airplanes streamed across the air, launched in attack and accompanied by war cries.
"Hey," said Zhou Mi from his left.
Kyuhyun turned and a long, bony finger poked into his cheek.
Zhou Mi giggled. "I can't believe you fell for that again."
"I hate you," Kyuhyun said, turning his head back toward the sky, but his voice was anything but annoyed. He let his eyes close, breathing in deep, as the breeze cooled his heated skin. A bright, warm feeling fluttered content in his chest as Zhou Mi chuckled beside him and linked their fingers loosely, an anchor under the brilliance of the sun.