027. Replacement
100 SuJu fic challenge
Author: knightkitten
Archive: here
Prompt: 027. Replacement - Kibum/Heechul, ?/Heechul
Words: 1964
Rating/Warning: R/mildly graphic sex
Summary: Kibum's been trying to replace Heechul only to find Heechul's given up on him.
Kibum smoothed his hands over the girl’s knuckles, calmly pulling his keys from his pocket and unlocking the door to their shared apartment. The click of heels followed him down the hall, every tap sending a spike of annoyance up his spine. It was a relief when she cast them off and padded softly after him through the living room. Kibum nodded at Hankyung who had just switched the TV off and was now prying Heechul from the couch, one arm under his knees, the other supporting his neck. The eldest was asleep, dark smudges under his eyes, red hair pulled into a curled tail at the back of his head. Kibum felt a pang of guilt.
‘I’ll take him, Hyung,’ Hankyung shook his head in negative.
‘I’ve got him now,’ he whispered back, voice slightly accented and cold. He moved ahead of them down the hall and disappeared into Heechul’s darkened room. Kibum turned back to his guest and felt a spike of anger as her eyes followed them, interest sparkling in her large black eyes. Grasping her hand, he pulled her to his room letting her in and following, not bothering with a light. Before he could close and lock the door though, a hand shot out and caught the closing wood. Hankyung’s neutral face appeared through the crack in the door. Heechul’s room was closed behind him and no doubt he’d put their Hyung to bed and was going to his own room at the other end of the apartment.
‘Keep it down tonight,’ He cast a significant glance at the closed bedroom door and Kibum nodded, familiar guilt spiking in him, knowing he wouldn’t heed Hankyung’s warning - as usual.
Shutting the door with a snap, he turned to see the girl sprawled out on his bed decadently. She was silent, but in a brooding mysterious way, her hair falling in bright copper curls to her shoulders, long pale neck arched, large black eyes pinning him in place. A huge man’s dress shirt swallowed her, as was the trend lately, a tie tucked into the oversized belt under her near flat chest. She was petite and gangly in a gorgeous way and he smoothed a hand over the shirt’s material, a knee on either side, trapping her under him, their bodies not touching. He pried the belt away from her ribs, snapping it open and discarding it. Her hair was quickly pulled from its neat clip and mussed. He meshed his lips to hers; biting gently and sucking so that when she fell back gasping for air they were plump and bruised. She was still panting as he propped her against the headboard, sliding a hand under her shirt, up her smooth back, still not allowing their torsos to meet. Expert hands found their way down the back of her jeans, groping the creamy globes of her rear. He stooped down, burrowing his nose into the front of her jeans - a last ditch attempt at trying to appreciate what she was offering. The spark didn’t happen, it never did, and really he only continued to try on ceremony.
There was only one reason for these encounters now. Snapping her jeans open, his hot breath ghosted over her sex so that she thrashed head falling with a thud against the wall. Kibum imagined the ever light sleeping Heechul jerking awake, the vibration, the noise reaching him through the paper thin walls. Ignoring half-soaked panties, he slid the jeans down her thighs, taking the time to squeeze appreciating the soft skin and flesh under his hands. Pulling the jeans from her body, he grasped her ankles sliding her downwards until she lay on the bed. There was a small noise of protest when he flipped her onto so she was lying face down, but all was forgotten when he smoothed hands up her sides and massaged her ribs, mouthing the back of her neck and breathing in the warm copper of her hair. He hated the consistency, the smell, but he slid two fingers between her legs, prying the lips of her sex open and pushing inwards. She let out a breathy moan, not nearly loud enough. Sliding in a third, fourth he parted his fingers, moving them in, out and around, rubbing a thumb against her nub until she was gasping and groaning loudly. He listened carefully, could hear Heechul shifting now, no doubt in annoyance. He could feel a bitterly satisfied smirk stretching his face even as he parted her legs, propping her ass in the air, her knees folded under her. He’s learnt that girls didn’t like people playing around with their asses too much outside the odd grope, so he resigned himself to her wet entrance. She gasped as he slid in sharply, not even giving her time to adjust before he started pounding in and out, hands grasping her smooth flat hips. She shouted out with every inward surge and Heechul was well and truly awake now. Kibum heard the flick of the side lamp, shuffling and he knew exactly what Heechul was doing - sliding his laptop from his side table, choosing thw loudest rock from his play list and plugging his ears. As always, Kibum took this as a challenge and thrust harder, the girl writhing under him nearly wailing. He knew how to pick the loud ones.
When she was spent, he coaxed her into arousal again, kneading at her hips, buttocks, shoulders, neck, trailing after his hands with wet, open-mouthed kisses and even forcing himself to tongue at her clit. Her vocals never gave out and throughout the next hour and forty-seven minutes he tried every way to exercise them. His ears were ever keen to hear Heechul’s reactions. After awhile Heechul gave up on music, switching off the light and trying to dull his senses to the pounding of the bed against the wall, the gasping, moaning, yelling female voice. It was only when he heard Heechul throwing something against the wall and yelling wordlessly in anger that he called it a night. Kibum stayed awake long enough to catch a whisper of a frustrated sob through the wall. Heechul hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in almost three weeks now. Kibum had made sure of it.
All through his schedule the next day all he’d be able to think about was how every time Heechul’s head pounded with a headache, every time his eyes would droop with fatigue, he’d think of Kim Kibum - if only to curse his name.
♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀
The morning after his sleepless nights Heechul would never said anything. He’d scowl, lips pressed into a disapproving line, arms and legs crossed defensively, but he wouldn’t say anything. God did Kibum want him to though. He wanted Heechul to care enough to tell him to stop - that he’d ruin his career, that it wasn’t safe drinking himself silly on his own, that he’d catch something. And in the desperate recesses of his mind, he’d sometimes imagine Heechul in a jealous rage, sick of seeing Kibum passing himself around like a favored pony. But Heechul never said anything.
He woke up to murmured voices in the kitchen. Shifting quietly and letting the girl fall against the bed carelessly, he cracked the door open and slowly shuffled into the kitchen, catching the tale end of Hankyung and Heechul’s conversation. Heechul was inspecting his hair contemplatively, smoothing the long red strands between two fingers.
‘Should I go black again? I think I should go black again…or maybe blonde, I haven’t been blonde in awhile,’ Kibum wouldn’t mind Heechul blonde. It was much easier to find blondes at the clubs than it was to find red heads anyway. Hankyung sighed gustily, carefully handing the older male a steaming mug of coffee, eying the bags under Heechul’s eyes with concern.
‘Hyung, you’ve only had red hair for a week and a half. Why would you want to dye it again so quickly? You need to be careful or your hair will become really unhealthy,’ Kibum made himself known then, falling against a chair and scooping up the newspaper, awarding the two of them a morning greeting. The jovial atmosphere disappeared and Kibum didn’t need to look up to know that Heechul had crossed his arms and legs and was concentrating a glare at his younger band mate. Hankyung was probably sending him a disapproving, disappointed look, but neither said anything. He was glad he didn’t stay with the greater half of Super Junior because the younger members would all be highly judgmental (all being hopeless romantics and never having stepped foot in a club in their lives) and the elder half would have found it amusing at first, but would have quickly taken him to task after the first week or so.
Heechul wouldn’t interfere on principle; he believed it was Kibum’s life and Kibum could do whatever the hell he liked with it and Hankyung followed Heechul’s lead on the proviso that Kibum didn’t appear to be aversely affected by his night time company. It was only a matter of time before Hankyung broke policy. He was becoming increasingly aggravated every morning Heechul appeared with darker bags underneath his eyes. As he downed his coffee and half-heartedly tried to remember what time filming started that day, he ached for the days when he and Heechul left the apartment together and arrived on set together and left together. He missed the bad script and the bad acting of Rainbow Romance merely because he spent everyday with Heechul by his side.
♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀
The dull glow of the TV washed over the otherwise dark living room and Kibum nearly jumped out his skin when a soft weight fell against his shoulder. The room had been filled with tense silence the whole evening (the first evening in awhile that Kibum didn’t have company), a more than physical gap sitting between Heechul and him. Glancing at the soft head pillowed on his shoulder in sleep, he felt his heart speeding up, though nothing showed on his face. He was content to sit, eyes intent on Heechul instead of the TV, enjoying the moment while it lasted.
'You're a fool,' Kibum almost jumped, his head swiveling to the living room doorway. Hankyung was silhouetted in the rectangle of light, a look of disbelief etched across his features. Kibum raised a questioning eyebrow, unwilling to speak while Heechul slept so peacefully on his shoulder. Hankyung moved further into the room.
'You have no idea what everyone's been thinking, have you?' Kibum was surprised at the genuine fury on Hankyung's face. His shock only seemed to fuel the Chinese man's anger. Kibum had no doubt Hankyung would have had him by the scruff of his neck by now if Heechul didn't lie between them.
'I thought it was obvious. Heechul liked you forever. We thought you knew too! We thought that was why you were taking girls home all the time. To warn him off,' Kibum felt numb. The world zeroed in on the three of them.
'What?' he managed to croak after a moment and Hankyung shook his head looked stressed and angry. '...I love him,' Hankyung scoffed, shaking his head and pressing his lips together angrily. It looked like words failed him for a moment before finally he was able to take a deep breath and fix Kibum with a solid stare.
'It's too late, you lost your chance,' Hankyung regarded him with dark, half sympathetic eyes, 'Now get your hands off my boyfriend,' Kibum felt like someone had gotten his gut and squeezed it in their fist as Hankyung slipped an arm under Heechul's knees and lifted him easily, moving down the opposite hall to Hankyung's room...away from his.
Author: knightkitten
Archive: here
Prompt: 027. Replacement - Kibum/Heechul, ?/Heechul
Words: 1964
Rating/Warning: R/mildly graphic sex
Summary: Kibum's been trying to replace Heechul only to find Heechul's given up on him.
Kibum smoothed his hands over the girl’s knuckles, calmly pulling his keys from his pocket and unlocking the door to their shared apartment. The click of heels followed him down the hall, every tap sending a spike of annoyance up his spine. It was a relief when she cast them off and padded softly after him through the living room. Kibum nodded at Hankyung who had just switched the TV off and was now prying Heechul from the couch, one arm under his knees, the other supporting his neck. The eldest was asleep, dark smudges under his eyes, red hair pulled into a curled tail at the back of his head. Kibum felt a pang of guilt.
‘I’ll take him, Hyung,’ Hankyung shook his head in negative.
‘I’ve got him now,’ he whispered back, voice slightly accented and cold. He moved ahead of them down the hall and disappeared into Heechul’s darkened room. Kibum turned back to his guest and felt a spike of anger as her eyes followed them, interest sparkling in her large black eyes. Grasping her hand, he pulled her to his room letting her in and following, not bothering with a light. Before he could close and lock the door though, a hand shot out and caught the closing wood. Hankyung’s neutral face appeared through the crack in the door. Heechul’s room was closed behind him and no doubt he’d put their Hyung to bed and was going to his own room at the other end of the apartment.
‘Keep it down tonight,’ He cast a significant glance at the closed bedroom door and Kibum nodded, familiar guilt spiking in him, knowing he wouldn’t heed Hankyung’s warning - as usual.
Shutting the door with a snap, he turned to see the girl sprawled out on his bed decadently. She was silent, but in a brooding mysterious way, her hair falling in bright copper curls to her shoulders, long pale neck arched, large black eyes pinning him in place. A huge man’s dress shirt swallowed her, as was the trend lately, a tie tucked into the oversized belt under her near flat chest. She was petite and gangly in a gorgeous way and he smoothed a hand over the shirt’s material, a knee on either side, trapping her under him, their bodies not touching. He pried the belt away from her ribs, snapping it open and discarding it. Her hair was quickly pulled from its neat clip and mussed. He meshed his lips to hers; biting gently and sucking so that when she fell back gasping for air they were plump and bruised. She was still panting as he propped her against the headboard, sliding a hand under her shirt, up her smooth back, still not allowing their torsos to meet. Expert hands found their way down the back of her jeans, groping the creamy globes of her rear. He stooped down, burrowing his nose into the front of her jeans - a last ditch attempt at trying to appreciate what she was offering. The spark didn’t happen, it never did, and really he only continued to try on ceremony.
There was only one reason for these encounters now. Snapping her jeans open, his hot breath ghosted over her sex so that she thrashed head falling with a thud against the wall. Kibum imagined the ever light sleeping Heechul jerking awake, the vibration, the noise reaching him through the paper thin walls. Ignoring half-soaked panties, he slid the jeans down her thighs, taking the time to squeeze appreciating the soft skin and flesh under his hands. Pulling the jeans from her body, he grasped her ankles sliding her downwards until she lay on the bed. There was a small noise of protest when he flipped her onto so she was lying face down, but all was forgotten when he smoothed hands up her sides and massaged her ribs, mouthing the back of her neck and breathing in the warm copper of her hair. He hated the consistency, the smell, but he slid two fingers between her legs, prying the lips of her sex open and pushing inwards. She let out a breathy moan, not nearly loud enough. Sliding in a third, fourth he parted his fingers, moving them in, out and around, rubbing a thumb against her nub until she was gasping and groaning loudly. He listened carefully, could hear Heechul shifting now, no doubt in annoyance. He could feel a bitterly satisfied smirk stretching his face even as he parted her legs, propping her ass in the air, her knees folded under her. He’s learnt that girls didn’t like people playing around with their asses too much outside the odd grope, so he resigned himself to her wet entrance. She gasped as he slid in sharply, not even giving her time to adjust before he started pounding in and out, hands grasping her smooth flat hips. She shouted out with every inward surge and Heechul was well and truly awake now. Kibum heard the flick of the side lamp, shuffling and he knew exactly what Heechul was doing - sliding his laptop from his side table, choosing thw loudest rock from his play list and plugging his ears. As always, Kibum took this as a challenge and thrust harder, the girl writhing under him nearly wailing. He knew how to pick the loud ones.
When she was spent, he coaxed her into arousal again, kneading at her hips, buttocks, shoulders, neck, trailing after his hands with wet, open-mouthed kisses and even forcing himself to tongue at her clit. Her vocals never gave out and throughout the next hour and forty-seven minutes he tried every way to exercise them. His ears were ever keen to hear Heechul’s reactions. After awhile Heechul gave up on music, switching off the light and trying to dull his senses to the pounding of the bed against the wall, the gasping, moaning, yelling female voice. It was only when he heard Heechul throwing something against the wall and yelling wordlessly in anger that he called it a night. Kibum stayed awake long enough to catch a whisper of a frustrated sob through the wall. Heechul hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in almost three weeks now. Kibum had made sure of it.
All through his schedule the next day all he’d be able to think about was how every time Heechul’s head pounded with a headache, every time his eyes would droop with fatigue, he’d think of Kim Kibum - if only to curse his name.
♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀
The morning after his sleepless nights Heechul would never said anything. He’d scowl, lips pressed into a disapproving line, arms and legs crossed defensively, but he wouldn’t say anything. God did Kibum want him to though. He wanted Heechul to care enough to tell him to stop - that he’d ruin his career, that it wasn’t safe drinking himself silly on his own, that he’d catch something. And in the desperate recesses of his mind, he’d sometimes imagine Heechul in a jealous rage, sick of seeing Kibum passing himself around like a favored pony. But Heechul never said anything.
He woke up to murmured voices in the kitchen. Shifting quietly and letting the girl fall against the bed carelessly, he cracked the door open and slowly shuffled into the kitchen, catching the tale end of Hankyung and Heechul’s conversation. Heechul was inspecting his hair contemplatively, smoothing the long red strands between two fingers.
‘Should I go black again? I think I should go black again…or maybe blonde, I haven’t been blonde in awhile,’ Kibum wouldn’t mind Heechul blonde. It was much easier to find blondes at the clubs than it was to find red heads anyway. Hankyung sighed gustily, carefully handing the older male a steaming mug of coffee, eying the bags under Heechul’s eyes with concern.
‘Hyung, you’ve only had red hair for a week and a half. Why would you want to dye it again so quickly? You need to be careful or your hair will become really unhealthy,’ Kibum made himself known then, falling against a chair and scooping up the newspaper, awarding the two of them a morning greeting. The jovial atmosphere disappeared and Kibum didn’t need to look up to know that Heechul had crossed his arms and legs and was concentrating a glare at his younger band mate. Hankyung was probably sending him a disapproving, disappointed look, but neither said anything. He was glad he didn’t stay with the greater half of Super Junior because the younger members would all be highly judgmental (all being hopeless romantics and never having stepped foot in a club in their lives) and the elder half would have found it amusing at first, but would have quickly taken him to task after the first week or so.
Heechul wouldn’t interfere on principle; he believed it was Kibum’s life and Kibum could do whatever the hell he liked with it and Hankyung followed Heechul’s lead on the proviso that Kibum didn’t appear to be aversely affected by his night time company. It was only a matter of time before Hankyung broke policy. He was becoming increasingly aggravated every morning Heechul appeared with darker bags underneath his eyes. As he downed his coffee and half-heartedly tried to remember what time filming started that day, he ached for the days when he and Heechul left the apartment together and arrived on set together and left together. He missed the bad script and the bad acting of Rainbow Romance merely because he spent everyday with Heechul by his side.
♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀♂♀
The dull glow of the TV washed over the otherwise dark living room and Kibum nearly jumped out his skin when a soft weight fell against his shoulder. The room had been filled with tense silence the whole evening (the first evening in awhile that Kibum didn’t have company), a more than physical gap sitting between Heechul and him. Glancing at the soft head pillowed on his shoulder in sleep, he felt his heart speeding up, though nothing showed on his face. He was content to sit, eyes intent on Heechul instead of the TV, enjoying the moment while it lasted.
'You're a fool,' Kibum almost jumped, his head swiveling to the living room doorway. Hankyung was silhouetted in the rectangle of light, a look of disbelief etched across his features. Kibum raised a questioning eyebrow, unwilling to speak while Heechul slept so peacefully on his shoulder. Hankyung moved further into the room.
'You have no idea what everyone's been thinking, have you?' Kibum was surprised at the genuine fury on Hankyung's face. His shock only seemed to fuel the Chinese man's anger. Kibum had no doubt Hankyung would have had him by the scruff of his neck by now if Heechul didn't lie between them.
'I thought it was obvious. Heechul liked you forever. We thought you knew too! We thought that was why you were taking girls home all the time. To warn him off,' Kibum felt numb. The world zeroed in on the three of them.
'What?' he managed to croak after a moment and Hankyung shook his head looked stressed and angry. '...I love him,' Hankyung scoffed, shaking his head and pressing his lips together angrily. It looked like words failed him for a moment before finally he was able to take a deep breath and fix Kibum with a solid stare.
'It's too late, you lost your chance,' Hankyung regarded him with dark, half sympathetic eyes, 'Now get your hands off my boyfriend,' Kibum felt like someone had gotten his gut and squeezed it in their fist as Hankyung slipped an arm under Heechul's knees and lifted him easily, moving down the opposite hall to Hankyung's room...away from his.