Super Junior {Hankyung/Heechul ; Run (1/13)}
Title: Run (1/13)
Fandom: Super Junior (AU)
Pairing: Hankyung/Heechul
Word count: 3,523
Rating: R (for violence and mature themes)
Summary: Hankyung and Heechul have been living together for four years now, and their relationship seems pretty much perfect. However, Hankyung has more skeletons in his closet than he has let on, and now his past is about to rear its ugly head in the worst way possible. The thing about lies is that they're remarkably difficult to ignore.
A/N: and here we have it, the first chapter of my nanowrimo! I can't even lie, I think this is one of the few fics that I've written that I actually like/am proud of. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's just the story. I like the story a lot, again, not sure why. Maybe it's the fact that I wrote it in a month and so didn't have to spend FOREVER on it, thus making me feel like it's a chore (see: mutant!au). This wasn't actually my plan for nanowrimo, my plan was to write my hs!au as a novel, with different characters, but then a week or so before the start of nanowrimo I got the idea for this fic, which I knew was going to be long, and I really wanted to write it before the ideas all flew from my head, so I wrote it for nanowrimo. I am glad I did now. I like this fic, I hope YOU like this fic, and I hope, dear flist, that it is worth the hype ♥ I'll do my main thanks in the final chapter.
The film referenced in this chapter is this one. Quite possibly one of the worst/most hilarious things I've ever seen in my life. Sorry I can't actually give you download links to the songs I'll be featuring; I don't have most of them on this computer D:
Run (1/13)
CRACK THE SHUTTERS - Snow Patrol
The alarm rang at 6.30am. Heechul, as usual, groaned, rolled over and buried his head in the bed, looking like he was trying to burrow into the mattress. Hankyung, as usual, avoided Heechul's arm and knocked the switch on the top of the alarm, cutting off the blaring. There was a long pause, in which he battled with himself over getting up and getting dressed for work, and lying in bed. Then, sighing, because he had this argument with himself every morning, and the result was always the same, he sat up, rubbed a hand at his eyes, then swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.
"Please remember to flush the alarm clock down the toilet," Heechul said, "I hate that fucker." His voice was so muffled by the bed that only four years of living together ensured that Hankyung understood. Hankyung laughed softly, and ruffled his hair at the back of his head, earning a slap to his wrist from one of Heechul's careless hands batting him away. With a sigh and a rather envious look at Heechul, Hankyung grabbed one of the towels he'd washed the day before and went into the bathroom.
He almost used Heechul's shower gel when he was showering, only realising what he was doing when the scent of mango hit him as he lifted the bottle instead of the mint that he was used to. He sighed, placed it back safely on the shelf. Heechul would know and would want compensation. The guys at work would notice and no doubt give him shit about smelling like a girl, because they were accountant types and thought they were funny. Sometimes, only the cover of the clueless foreigner kept Hankyung from hauling off and hitting one of them in the face. That and the fact that he'd probably lose his job, and this one had been hard enough to find.
When he emerged from the shower, Heechul had curled up into a ball on the bed, all the covers pulled in around him. Hankyung scowled at the lump. Heechul had done that on purpose, just to show off that he could. He pulled some underwear out of a drawer and put it on before he switched the radio on and turned it up. An early morning DJ boomed out his welcomes, and Heechul flipped over and sat up, glaring at him from under a mess of golden brown bed head.
"Just because you have to go to a boring day job," he said, "doesn't mean that I have to get up. Now turn that off." Obediently, since it had gained the wanted reaction, Hankyung turned the radio off and grinned at Heechul as he pulled on a pair of black work trousers. Heechul humphed and threw himself back down onto the bed and into his ball as Hankyung continued getting dressed. He was still there when Hankyung quietly let himself out of the bedroom.
He was just pouring some coffee out when Heechul shuffled into the kitchen, a pair of jogging pants pulled over his underwear. He sat at the counter and stared at the marble top. Hankyung silently pushed a plate of toast and a cup of coffee, white with two sugars, across to him. "Thanks," mumbled Heechul. Hankyung sat opposite him and sipped at his black coffee.
There was silence for a while, then Hankyung asked, "What are you doing today?"
Heechul shrugged, smearing his toast with chocolate spread. "I might go downtown. Check out a bookstore I heard about."
Hankyung eyed him. "When's your deadline?"
Heechul rolled his eyes, taking a bite of something now more chocolate spread than toasted bread. "You know when it is."
Hankyung smiled. "Remind me to buy a calender for the fridge so I can mark all your deadlines down."
"It'll bug me constantly."
"Exactly."
"Oh, go to work, you dick."
"Will do," Hankyung said, draining his cup of the last bit of coffee and putting in the sink. He kissed Heechul, just catching the corner of his mouth and getting chocolate on his lips for his trouble. Heechul stuck his tongue out at him and Hankyung stole a piece of his toast, running off down the hallway and out of the door, grabbing his coat, briefcase and keys on his way, with Heechul's shrieks of anger ringing in his ears.
He ate the toast while waiting at all the red traffic lights that he hit on his way. He didn't particularly like the chocolate spread that Heechul insisted on using every morning -- and subsequently blamed whenever he thought he had put on weight -- but food was food and Hankyung was, for some reason, starving. He arrived a little early, decided to grab something from the coffee shop next to his office building, and was just about to push through the glass plated door when his boss paged him. He sighed, headed for his original destination, the office, and thought longingly of lunch.
Heechul sounded distracted when Hankyung called him; in the background was the very faint hint of traffic. "How are you?" Hankyung asked, after he'd swallowed his mouthful of the chicken salad sandwich he'd bought for lunch from the cafeteria.
"Fine," Heechul said absently.
"You're at that bookshop, aren't you?" Hankyung asked, when he said nothing more. Heechul's silence confirmed it. "Have you eaten yet?"
"No."
"Don't forget," Hankyung said, sounding too much like a mother talking to a young child for comfort.
"I won't," Heechul said. "They've got some beautiful books here, Hankyung." There was a wistful edge to his voice. "All leather bound with frail pages."
"You know I'm not going to stop you."
"Good," Heechul said, "because I've already bought what I wanted." There was the ringing of a bell, no doubt him leaving the store. Hankyung laughed and opened up a game of solitaire to while away his lunch hour. "Now to go home and read them."
"I'll buy that calender on my way home tonight."
"The hell you will."
"I love you."
"Che," Heechul said, and hung up on him. Hankyung smiled, gaining a strange look from the girl at the desk next to him because yeah, probably looked a little creepy, put the phone down, and proceeded to lose every single game of solitaire he attempted. It was Heechul who was good at games, although Hankyung had a very good poker face. Needed one, really.
The afternoon passed in a mix of a presentation, a couple of new cases coming his way, and one irate phone call from a woman who had been told that she had less money that she thought and didn't seem to understand that she was running the risk of bankruptcy unless she stopped using her credit card. Hankyung tried to explain this to her, feeling very much like he was explaining to Heechul why he couldn't buy an entire bookshop. The thought of that suddenly struck fear into his heart that when Heechul had said he'd already bought what he wanted, he'd actually bought the whole damn shop. They couldn't really afford that. This was why he never let Heechul go book shopping by himself.
"How many books did you buy?" he called out when he entered the house, five forty in the afternoon, slipping off his shoes and hanging his jacket on the coat hook next to Heechul's leather one. Heechul's voice called out from the living room, and not from the room where he kept all his books like Hankyung thought he would be.
"Just the two." Heechul was sprawled on the sofa, laptop on his knee and his hand lazily pressing a button on the television remote so that he could flick through all the music channels until he came to a song that he liked. Snippets of music played as Hankyung loosened his tie and shifted Heechul's legs so he could flop down next to him. "A first edition of a book I like and some thing that the very cute sales assistant in very high shoes recommended."
"I thought you'd be reading."
"I was, but then I got struck by inspiration. Chi-Liang wanted to kick some ass so I decided I should write it."
"Who's Chi-Liang?" Hankyung asked, a little hazy on the details of Heechul's latest novel. He picked Heechul's feet up and slung them over his lap.
"She's the Chinese secret agent who is secretly the princess of another world," Heechul said. "She's leading a secret life." Hankyung tried his best to look as interested as possible, but he couldn't help the way he shifted nervously. "She's trying to escape from her family, who have come through to earth to take her back home."
"Why is she escaping?"
"She ran away because she didn't want to inherit the throne."
"Oh, I see." Hankyung took the remote from Heechul's hand and settled the channel on the latest music chart countdown before the constant flicker could give him a headache. A boy band dressed in suits sang a pop song about being in love, dancing in sync. Heechul glared at them in disgust.
"You'd never see me doing anything like that," he said.
"You'd have to be able to dance," Hankyung said.
"Oh, and you can?"
"I used to be able to," Hankyung said mildly.
Heechul chortled. "Come on then, show me."
"Can't," Hankyung said, grinning. "I'm too old for it now."
Heechul snorted, then his fingers were flying over the keyboard, tapping out a rhythm that was slightly distracting but not something Hankyung was going to complain about, since Heechul only had another week to get most of this novel finished and sent off for his editor to approve or discard. After watching a girl band sing about how hot they were, then a solo singer mourning her lost love, Hankyung pushed Heechul's legs away and stood up. "What do you want for dinner?"
"I don't know," Heechul said, biting his bottom lip as he stared at the screen. Hankyung reached down and pulled it out from between his teeth for fear he'd cut it. "What do we have?" Heechul asked, now around his fingers.
"Not sure," Hankyung said, thinking. "Beef? Some fish? Did you pick anything up?"
"No," Heechul said, frowning at the computer screen. "I just got books."
"Figures," Hankyung said. In the kitchen, he found some steak just within the use-by date, and some potatoes that he hadn't used and which weren't yet mouldy. They were going to have to do some shopping soon. It was always like this; they put it off until they were literally eating ramen out of the container, simply because neither of them liked going to busy grocery stores. "We're going to get into some sort of routine," he called to the living room as he started seasoning the steak. "For getting food, you know?"
"Okay," Heechul said. "You can do it every week."
"No, you can."
"No, you."
"Is this what our relationship has come to? Childish arguments hollered down the hallway at each other?"
"Well, if you'd just admit defeat..." Hankyung could hear the frown in Heechul's voice and bit his tongue against saying anymore, recognising the tone as a sign that Heechul was working a plot line through in his head and needed to concentrate. He turned the radio on, then switched it quickly back off as the newsreader threatened him with a death in downtown Seoul. Hankyung didn't listen or watch the news; too much death and violence in a concentrated space of time for him to handle. He cooked in silence for a short while, then chanced the radio again. A soft ballad was playing; he sang along as he finished up. There was a snort of laughter behind him.
"Nice," Heechul said, coming into the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of orange juice. "You should join one of those boy bands that we were talking about before, what with your supposed dancing skills."
Hankyung's smile was a little tight. "Too old, remember?"
"You're hardly bent with old age."
Hankyung let out a bark of laughter and turned away from Heechul, hiding his smile as he bent over the plates that he was slipping potatoes onto. "What?" asked Heechul, sliding up to him and wrapping his arms around his waist. "Hankyung," he whined. "Tell me."
"What's your excuse for being bent?" Hankyung asked. Heechul drew in a hiss of air, and then laughed snidely.
"Hey, I'm not the dancer."
Hankyung forced himself to stay normal, but Heechul obviously noticed the slight tensing of his spine because he drew away. "Hey," he said. "What's wrong?"
"Hmm?" Hankyung picked up the two plates and turned to put them on the table. "Nothing's wrong."
"Yeah, sure, nothing's wrong when you just went straighter than a metal bar in my arms." Heechul set his orange juice down on the table a little hard, spilling some of it over. Hankyung clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and grabbed a tea towel from the rack to clean it up. Then he glanced at Heechul and shook his head, smiling a little.
"I'm telling you, nothing's wrong," he said. "I'm just tired. You see, unlike some people, I worked today instead of shopping."
"Shut up, I did work too."
"Oh, really?" Hankyung handed him a knife and fork. "What, does writing about Chinese secret agents count as a day job now?"
"You just wish you were a Chinese secret agent."
"How do you know I'm not?" Hankyung watched as Heechul fell into the food. "Did you eat today at all?"
"No," Heechul said. "And you aren't because she's sexy and you're not."
"I can be sexy."
"Do you have a black leather dress with a slit up the thigh?"
"Sure, didn't you see it in the wardrobe?"
"What, next to the gun holster?"
"And the laser disguised as a lipstick."
"God, you're such a douche."
"Yeah," Hankyung said, lips quirking. "I am a douche."
He managed to pull Heechul into a conversation about whatever it was that he was writing, so that by the time they'd finished dinner, he had a fairly decent idea of what was going on, and Heechul had managed to work through the plot and seemed to have an idea of where he was taking it. There was a definite hint that it would involve unicorns, which was something Hankyung didn't ask about -- even though he was fairly sure Heechul had meant it as a joke -- because Heechul wouldn't tell him anyway. Heechul would just tell him that he'd have to read it, this sneer on his face because he didn't think Hankyung read his books. Hankyung had read all of Heechul's books, every single one, and fell a little more in love each time he did, but he didn't tell Heechul that he'd done so because Heechul would only launch into a criticism of his own work that Hankyung wouldn't be able to counter, because Heechul wouldn't allow him to. Hankyung wouldn't be knowledgeable enough for Heechul to accept his praises.
"So tonight," Heechul announced, like he was a queen or something, as he stood with his arms in soapy water, cleaning their dishes, "we should watch that movie that Sungmin gave us."
"He gave us that as a joke."
"So?"
"It's got Van Damme in it."
"I like Van Damme."
"He's got a mullet."
"Mullets are going to come back into fashion."
"Is that what you're hoping about your face?" Hankyung smiled innocently at Heechul's glare and then tapped him on the nose with the tea towel he was drying with. "I like your face," he said.
"I hope you like the sofa, too, since that's where you're sleeping," Heechul muttered, but it was an empty threat and they both knew it.
Hankyung reached over to put a dish in an overhead cupboard, but couldn't quite reach over Heechul's head. "Hey, babe, could you just--?" Heechul ducked his head so Hankyung could slip the dish in its place, then he dropped his head and kissed the back of Heechul's neck where his hair had parted. Heechul wriggled, and when he lifted his head his nose was screwed up.
"That tickled," he complained, "and I can't scratch it because my hands are wet."
"Want me to?" Hankyung asked, waving his fingers in Heechul's face.
"I'll pass," Heechul said. "You'll just make it worse." This was probably true. Heechul was one of those people who never considered a job properly done unless he'd done it himself. It meant that he had to wait until he'd finished the rest of the dishes and had dried his hands before he could scratch the back of his neck. He kept scrunching his nose up in frustration and Hankyung kept kissing him, which didn't speed up the cleaning process.
The movie was terrible, like Hankyung had known it would be. The Korean subtitles didn't lend themselves very well to the dialogue, so that most of it fell rather flat. Heechul, who at least understood English after majoring in it at university, kept choking on his own tongue with laughter. "It's so bad," he said, when Hankyung looked at him curiously, because the subtitles hadn't seemed like they were supposed to be a badly told joke. "It's just like, the worst action movie ever, but it's great because there are mullets involved."
"You're insane," Hankyung said fondly. Then he tensed up as the female police officer was shot. Heechul, leaning against his side, poked him in the stomach, grinning.
"You're such a wimp," he drawled. Hankyung laughed faintly, eyes focused on the woman as she died. "Oh," Heechul said, slightly more sober now. "I wasn't expecting that." His rather subdued mood lasted right up until a particularly corny line, at which point he practically died against Hankyung's shoulder laughing so hard. Hankyung forced some laughter out, mind still on the dying woman. Sure, it was fake, but that didn't mean it wasn't effective.
Heechul leant against the door frame, watching him as he brushed his teeth. Hankyung made an incomprehensible noise, meant to infer that Heechul should go away and stop staring, but either Heechul didn't understand Hankyung-speak-through-toothpaste-froth (highly likely) or he was just ignoring him (also highly likely). "What?" he asked, fairly coherently, which made sense since it was a single word. Heechul smirked at him.
"You look funny," he said. Hankyung waited until he'd spat and gargled before replying, primly, that so did Heechul. Heechul laughed and stepped into his arms. Hankyung brushed his hair away from his mouth and kissed him.
"You should probably get this cut," he said, a little regretfully.
"And have you mope around for weeks like last time? Not bloody likely."
"I didn't mope," which was a lie.
"You did. I saw you keep looking at that picture you keep of me in your wallet."
"It's a nice picture," Hankyung said.
"I look like a girl," Heechul said. It was a picture that Heechul had found while searching through some of his old university things, which Hankyung had subsequently stolen from him and was taking pride of place in his wallet. Apparently Heechul and Sungmin had lost some sort of bet, and the forfeit had included turning up at someone's Halloween party, Heechul dressed in a long red qipao and extensions in his hair, and Sungmin in a pleated skirt and knee socks. The photo showed Heechul sitting on the edge of a table, fingers held out in a V, a slight smile on his face. Hankyung kind of thought he looked amazing like that.
"I like the picture," Hankyung said.
"If you come home with a dress for me to wear, I'll--"
"Wear it?"
"No, you complete and utter--" Hankyung cut him off with a quick kiss.
"I'm sorry," he said solemnly. "I have to go hide that leather dress with the slit up the side. I actually bought it for you to wear, but I guess now my plan needs to be changed."
"Damn straight," Heechul said. He shut the bathroom door after him as Hankyung padded down the hallway to their bedroom, barefoot in his pyjama bottoms. He drew the curtains, noticing the black car on the other side of the street. Looked like the single woman who lived there had an admirer of some kind. It made sense, she was quite beautiful and liked to put the empty milk bottles out in her night dress. Heechul would know, in any case.
"Hey, 'Chul? Who does that car across the street belong to?"
"Eh?" There was the sound of running water. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh," Hankyung said. "Never mind, it's nothing." He frowned down at the car, sitting a little out of the glare of the streetlamp, so that he couldn't quite make out if anyone was sitting in it. "Probably just her new car," he murmured, forehead pressed to the glass. "You're being paranoid." He drew the curtains, and tried to put it from his mind. It became easier to do when Heechul came back into the bedroom and pulled him down onto the bed.
Fandom: Super Junior (AU)
Pairing: Hankyung/Heechul
Word count: 3,523
Rating: R (for violence and mature themes)
Summary: Hankyung and Heechul have been living together for four years now, and their relationship seems pretty much perfect. However, Hankyung has more skeletons in his closet than he has let on, and now his past is about to rear its ugly head in the worst way possible. The thing about lies is that they're remarkably difficult to ignore.
A/N: and here we have it, the first chapter of my nanowrimo! I can't even lie, I think this is one of the few fics that I've written that I actually like/am proud of. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's just the story. I like the story a lot, again, not sure why. Maybe it's the fact that I wrote it in a month and so didn't have to spend FOREVER on it, thus making me feel like it's a chore (see: mutant!au). This wasn't actually my plan for nanowrimo, my plan was to write my hs!au as a novel, with different characters, but then a week or so before the start of nanowrimo I got the idea for this fic, which I knew was going to be long, and I really wanted to write it before the ideas all flew from my head, so I wrote it for nanowrimo. I am glad I did now. I like this fic, I hope YOU like this fic, and I hope, dear flist, that it is worth the hype ♥ I'll do my main thanks in the final chapter.
The film referenced in this chapter is this one. Quite possibly one of the worst/most hilarious things I've ever seen in my life. Sorry I can't actually give you download links to the songs I'll be featuring; I don't have most of them on this computer D:
Run (1/13)
CRACK THE SHUTTERS - Snow Patrol
The alarm rang at 6.30am. Heechul, as usual, groaned, rolled over and buried his head in the bed, looking like he was trying to burrow into the mattress. Hankyung, as usual, avoided Heechul's arm and knocked the switch on the top of the alarm, cutting off the blaring. There was a long pause, in which he battled with himself over getting up and getting dressed for work, and lying in bed. Then, sighing, because he had this argument with himself every morning, and the result was always the same, he sat up, rubbed a hand at his eyes, then swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.
"Please remember to flush the alarm clock down the toilet," Heechul said, "I hate that fucker." His voice was so muffled by the bed that only four years of living together ensured that Hankyung understood. Hankyung laughed softly, and ruffled his hair at the back of his head, earning a slap to his wrist from one of Heechul's careless hands batting him away. With a sigh and a rather envious look at Heechul, Hankyung grabbed one of the towels he'd washed the day before and went into the bathroom.
He almost used Heechul's shower gel when he was showering, only realising what he was doing when the scent of mango hit him as he lifted the bottle instead of the mint that he was used to. He sighed, placed it back safely on the shelf. Heechul would know and would want compensation. The guys at work would notice and no doubt give him shit about smelling like a girl, because they were accountant types and thought they were funny. Sometimes, only the cover of the clueless foreigner kept Hankyung from hauling off and hitting one of them in the face. That and the fact that he'd probably lose his job, and this one had been hard enough to find.
When he emerged from the shower, Heechul had curled up into a ball on the bed, all the covers pulled in around him. Hankyung scowled at the lump. Heechul had done that on purpose, just to show off that he could. He pulled some underwear out of a drawer and put it on before he switched the radio on and turned it up. An early morning DJ boomed out his welcomes, and Heechul flipped over and sat up, glaring at him from under a mess of golden brown bed head.
"Just because you have to go to a boring day job," he said, "doesn't mean that I have to get up. Now turn that off." Obediently, since it had gained the wanted reaction, Hankyung turned the radio off and grinned at Heechul as he pulled on a pair of black work trousers. Heechul humphed and threw himself back down onto the bed and into his ball as Hankyung continued getting dressed. He was still there when Hankyung quietly let himself out of the bedroom.
He was just pouring some coffee out when Heechul shuffled into the kitchen, a pair of jogging pants pulled over his underwear. He sat at the counter and stared at the marble top. Hankyung silently pushed a plate of toast and a cup of coffee, white with two sugars, across to him. "Thanks," mumbled Heechul. Hankyung sat opposite him and sipped at his black coffee.
There was silence for a while, then Hankyung asked, "What are you doing today?"
Heechul shrugged, smearing his toast with chocolate spread. "I might go downtown. Check out a bookstore I heard about."
Hankyung eyed him. "When's your deadline?"
Heechul rolled his eyes, taking a bite of something now more chocolate spread than toasted bread. "You know when it is."
Hankyung smiled. "Remind me to buy a calender for the fridge so I can mark all your deadlines down."
"It'll bug me constantly."
"Exactly."
"Oh, go to work, you dick."
"Will do," Hankyung said, draining his cup of the last bit of coffee and putting in the sink. He kissed Heechul, just catching the corner of his mouth and getting chocolate on his lips for his trouble. Heechul stuck his tongue out at him and Hankyung stole a piece of his toast, running off down the hallway and out of the door, grabbing his coat, briefcase and keys on his way, with Heechul's shrieks of anger ringing in his ears.
He ate the toast while waiting at all the red traffic lights that he hit on his way. He didn't particularly like the chocolate spread that Heechul insisted on using every morning -- and subsequently blamed whenever he thought he had put on weight -- but food was food and Hankyung was, for some reason, starving. He arrived a little early, decided to grab something from the coffee shop next to his office building, and was just about to push through the glass plated door when his boss paged him. He sighed, headed for his original destination, the office, and thought longingly of lunch.
Heechul sounded distracted when Hankyung called him; in the background was the very faint hint of traffic. "How are you?" Hankyung asked, after he'd swallowed his mouthful of the chicken salad sandwich he'd bought for lunch from the cafeteria.
"Fine," Heechul said absently.
"You're at that bookshop, aren't you?" Hankyung asked, when he said nothing more. Heechul's silence confirmed it. "Have you eaten yet?"
"No."
"Don't forget," Hankyung said, sounding too much like a mother talking to a young child for comfort.
"I won't," Heechul said. "They've got some beautiful books here, Hankyung." There was a wistful edge to his voice. "All leather bound with frail pages."
"You know I'm not going to stop you."
"Good," Heechul said, "because I've already bought what I wanted." There was the ringing of a bell, no doubt him leaving the store. Hankyung laughed and opened up a game of solitaire to while away his lunch hour. "Now to go home and read them."
"I'll buy that calender on my way home tonight."
"The hell you will."
"I love you."
"Che," Heechul said, and hung up on him. Hankyung smiled, gaining a strange look from the girl at the desk next to him because yeah, probably looked a little creepy, put the phone down, and proceeded to lose every single game of solitaire he attempted. It was Heechul who was good at games, although Hankyung had a very good poker face. Needed one, really.
The afternoon passed in a mix of a presentation, a couple of new cases coming his way, and one irate phone call from a woman who had been told that she had less money that she thought and didn't seem to understand that she was running the risk of bankruptcy unless she stopped using her credit card. Hankyung tried to explain this to her, feeling very much like he was explaining to Heechul why he couldn't buy an entire bookshop. The thought of that suddenly struck fear into his heart that when Heechul had said he'd already bought what he wanted, he'd actually bought the whole damn shop. They couldn't really afford that. This was why he never let Heechul go book shopping by himself.
"How many books did you buy?" he called out when he entered the house, five forty in the afternoon, slipping off his shoes and hanging his jacket on the coat hook next to Heechul's leather one. Heechul's voice called out from the living room, and not from the room where he kept all his books like Hankyung thought he would be.
"Just the two." Heechul was sprawled on the sofa, laptop on his knee and his hand lazily pressing a button on the television remote so that he could flick through all the music channels until he came to a song that he liked. Snippets of music played as Hankyung loosened his tie and shifted Heechul's legs so he could flop down next to him. "A first edition of a book I like and some thing that the very cute sales assistant in very high shoes recommended."
"I thought you'd be reading."
"I was, but then I got struck by inspiration. Chi-Liang wanted to kick some ass so I decided I should write it."
"Who's Chi-Liang?" Hankyung asked, a little hazy on the details of Heechul's latest novel. He picked Heechul's feet up and slung them over his lap.
"She's the Chinese secret agent who is secretly the princess of another world," Heechul said. "She's leading a secret life." Hankyung tried his best to look as interested as possible, but he couldn't help the way he shifted nervously. "She's trying to escape from her family, who have come through to earth to take her back home."
"Why is she escaping?"
"She ran away because she didn't want to inherit the throne."
"Oh, I see." Hankyung took the remote from Heechul's hand and settled the channel on the latest music chart countdown before the constant flicker could give him a headache. A boy band dressed in suits sang a pop song about being in love, dancing in sync. Heechul glared at them in disgust.
"You'd never see me doing anything like that," he said.
"You'd have to be able to dance," Hankyung said.
"Oh, and you can?"
"I used to be able to," Hankyung said mildly.
Heechul chortled. "Come on then, show me."
"Can't," Hankyung said, grinning. "I'm too old for it now."
Heechul snorted, then his fingers were flying over the keyboard, tapping out a rhythm that was slightly distracting but not something Hankyung was going to complain about, since Heechul only had another week to get most of this novel finished and sent off for his editor to approve or discard. After watching a girl band sing about how hot they were, then a solo singer mourning her lost love, Hankyung pushed Heechul's legs away and stood up. "What do you want for dinner?"
"I don't know," Heechul said, biting his bottom lip as he stared at the screen. Hankyung reached down and pulled it out from between his teeth for fear he'd cut it. "What do we have?" Heechul asked, now around his fingers.
"Not sure," Hankyung said, thinking. "Beef? Some fish? Did you pick anything up?"
"No," Heechul said, frowning at the computer screen. "I just got books."
"Figures," Hankyung said. In the kitchen, he found some steak just within the use-by date, and some potatoes that he hadn't used and which weren't yet mouldy. They were going to have to do some shopping soon. It was always like this; they put it off until they were literally eating ramen out of the container, simply because neither of them liked going to busy grocery stores. "We're going to get into some sort of routine," he called to the living room as he started seasoning the steak. "For getting food, you know?"
"Okay," Heechul said. "You can do it every week."
"No, you can."
"No, you."
"Is this what our relationship has come to? Childish arguments hollered down the hallway at each other?"
"Well, if you'd just admit defeat..." Hankyung could hear the frown in Heechul's voice and bit his tongue against saying anymore, recognising the tone as a sign that Heechul was working a plot line through in his head and needed to concentrate. He turned the radio on, then switched it quickly back off as the newsreader threatened him with a death in downtown Seoul. Hankyung didn't listen or watch the news; too much death and violence in a concentrated space of time for him to handle. He cooked in silence for a short while, then chanced the radio again. A soft ballad was playing; he sang along as he finished up. There was a snort of laughter behind him.
"Nice," Heechul said, coming into the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of orange juice. "You should join one of those boy bands that we were talking about before, what with your supposed dancing skills."
Hankyung's smile was a little tight. "Too old, remember?"
"You're hardly bent with old age."
Hankyung let out a bark of laughter and turned away from Heechul, hiding his smile as he bent over the plates that he was slipping potatoes onto. "What?" asked Heechul, sliding up to him and wrapping his arms around his waist. "Hankyung," he whined. "Tell me."
"What's your excuse for being bent?" Hankyung asked. Heechul drew in a hiss of air, and then laughed snidely.
"Hey, I'm not the dancer."
Hankyung forced himself to stay normal, but Heechul obviously noticed the slight tensing of his spine because he drew away. "Hey," he said. "What's wrong?"
"Hmm?" Hankyung picked up the two plates and turned to put them on the table. "Nothing's wrong."
"Yeah, sure, nothing's wrong when you just went straighter than a metal bar in my arms." Heechul set his orange juice down on the table a little hard, spilling some of it over. Hankyung clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and grabbed a tea towel from the rack to clean it up. Then he glanced at Heechul and shook his head, smiling a little.
"I'm telling you, nothing's wrong," he said. "I'm just tired. You see, unlike some people, I worked today instead of shopping."
"Shut up, I did work too."
"Oh, really?" Hankyung handed him a knife and fork. "What, does writing about Chinese secret agents count as a day job now?"
"You just wish you were a Chinese secret agent."
"How do you know I'm not?" Hankyung watched as Heechul fell into the food. "Did you eat today at all?"
"No," Heechul said. "And you aren't because she's sexy and you're not."
"I can be sexy."
"Do you have a black leather dress with a slit up the thigh?"
"Sure, didn't you see it in the wardrobe?"
"What, next to the gun holster?"
"And the laser disguised as a lipstick."
"God, you're such a douche."
"Yeah," Hankyung said, lips quirking. "I am a douche."
He managed to pull Heechul into a conversation about whatever it was that he was writing, so that by the time they'd finished dinner, he had a fairly decent idea of what was going on, and Heechul had managed to work through the plot and seemed to have an idea of where he was taking it. There was a definite hint that it would involve unicorns, which was something Hankyung didn't ask about -- even though he was fairly sure Heechul had meant it as a joke -- because Heechul wouldn't tell him anyway. Heechul would just tell him that he'd have to read it, this sneer on his face because he didn't think Hankyung read his books. Hankyung had read all of Heechul's books, every single one, and fell a little more in love each time he did, but he didn't tell Heechul that he'd done so because Heechul would only launch into a criticism of his own work that Hankyung wouldn't be able to counter, because Heechul wouldn't allow him to. Hankyung wouldn't be knowledgeable enough for Heechul to accept his praises.
"So tonight," Heechul announced, like he was a queen or something, as he stood with his arms in soapy water, cleaning their dishes, "we should watch that movie that Sungmin gave us."
"He gave us that as a joke."
"So?"
"It's got Van Damme in it."
"I like Van Damme."
"He's got a mullet."
"Mullets are going to come back into fashion."
"Is that what you're hoping about your face?" Hankyung smiled innocently at Heechul's glare and then tapped him on the nose with the tea towel he was drying with. "I like your face," he said.
"I hope you like the sofa, too, since that's where you're sleeping," Heechul muttered, but it was an empty threat and they both knew it.
Hankyung reached over to put a dish in an overhead cupboard, but couldn't quite reach over Heechul's head. "Hey, babe, could you just--?" Heechul ducked his head so Hankyung could slip the dish in its place, then he dropped his head and kissed the back of Heechul's neck where his hair had parted. Heechul wriggled, and when he lifted his head his nose was screwed up.
"That tickled," he complained, "and I can't scratch it because my hands are wet."
"Want me to?" Hankyung asked, waving his fingers in Heechul's face.
"I'll pass," Heechul said. "You'll just make it worse." This was probably true. Heechul was one of those people who never considered a job properly done unless he'd done it himself. It meant that he had to wait until he'd finished the rest of the dishes and had dried his hands before he could scratch the back of his neck. He kept scrunching his nose up in frustration and Hankyung kept kissing him, which didn't speed up the cleaning process.
The movie was terrible, like Hankyung had known it would be. The Korean subtitles didn't lend themselves very well to the dialogue, so that most of it fell rather flat. Heechul, who at least understood English after majoring in it at university, kept choking on his own tongue with laughter. "It's so bad," he said, when Hankyung looked at him curiously, because the subtitles hadn't seemed like they were supposed to be a badly told joke. "It's just like, the worst action movie ever, but it's great because there are mullets involved."
"You're insane," Hankyung said fondly. Then he tensed up as the female police officer was shot. Heechul, leaning against his side, poked him in the stomach, grinning.
"You're such a wimp," he drawled. Hankyung laughed faintly, eyes focused on the woman as she died. "Oh," Heechul said, slightly more sober now. "I wasn't expecting that." His rather subdued mood lasted right up until a particularly corny line, at which point he practically died against Hankyung's shoulder laughing so hard. Hankyung forced some laughter out, mind still on the dying woman. Sure, it was fake, but that didn't mean it wasn't effective.
Heechul leant against the door frame, watching him as he brushed his teeth. Hankyung made an incomprehensible noise, meant to infer that Heechul should go away and stop staring, but either Heechul didn't understand Hankyung-speak-through-toothpaste-froth (highly likely) or he was just ignoring him (also highly likely). "What?" he asked, fairly coherently, which made sense since it was a single word. Heechul smirked at him.
"You look funny," he said. Hankyung waited until he'd spat and gargled before replying, primly, that so did Heechul. Heechul laughed and stepped into his arms. Hankyung brushed his hair away from his mouth and kissed him.
"You should probably get this cut," he said, a little regretfully.
"And have you mope around for weeks like last time? Not bloody likely."
"I didn't mope," which was a lie.
"You did. I saw you keep looking at that picture you keep of me in your wallet."
"It's a nice picture," Hankyung said.
"I look like a girl," Heechul said. It was a picture that Heechul had found while searching through some of his old university things, which Hankyung had subsequently stolen from him and was taking pride of place in his wallet. Apparently Heechul and Sungmin had lost some sort of bet, and the forfeit had included turning up at someone's Halloween party, Heechul dressed in a long red qipao and extensions in his hair, and Sungmin in a pleated skirt and knee socks. The photo showed Heechul sitting on the edge of a table, fingers held out in a V, a slight smile on his face. Hankyung kind of thought he looked amazing like that.
"I like the picture," Hankyung said.
"If you come home with a dress for me to wear, I'll--"
"Wear it?"
"No, you complete and utter--" Hankyung cut him off with a quick kiss.
"I'm sorry," he said solemnly. "I have to go hide that leather dress with the slit up the side. I actually bought it for you to wear, but I guess now my plan needs to be changed."
"Damn straight," Heechul said. He shut the bathroom door after him as Hankyung padded down the hallway to their bedroom, barefoot in his pyjama bottoms. He drew the curtains, noticing the black car on the other side of the street. Looked like the single woman who lived there had an admirer of some kind. It made sense, she was quite beautiful and liked to put the empty milk bottles out in her night dress. Heechul would know, in any case.
"Hey, 'Chul? Who does that car across the street belong to?"
"Eh?" There was the sound of running water. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh," Hankyung said. "Never mind, it's nothing." He frowned down at the car, sitting a little out of the glare of the streetlamp, so that he couldn't quite make out if anyone was sitting in it. "Probably just her new car," he murmured, forehead pressed to the glass. "You're being paranoid." He drew the curtains, and tried to put it from his mind. It became easier to do when Heechul came back into the bedroom and pulled him down onto the bed.