fic: image [089]
title: image
pairing: Kangin/Ryeowook
rating: PG
word count: 1612
{prompt: [089] "I like your face", (001/100)}
summary: Ryeowook knows what it's like.
author's note: First Super Junior fic.
-
“Haha, guys, check out this one.” Eeteuk clicks on a bold green link: MY OPINIONS ON THE THIRD ALBUM. “Let’s see how we’re doing, hmm?”
The other members (well, those who can fit) crowd around the computer screen. Ryeowook quickly slips into the space closest to their leader. Someone steps on Sungmin’s foot and he skulks off, pouting and leaving an open space, which Heechul immediately rushes to fill, though this means that Eunhyuk gets shoved out of the way and nearly trips over Donghae.
(Hey, competition is tough in the entertainment industry.)
This is one of their favorite pastimes - not kicking and pushing each other around, but rather surfing the Internet to read blogs about themselves. The release of Sorry, Sorry has spawned hundreds of new posts, most of which are of the fangirlish-squealing sort, but some of which are incredibly nasty. Eeteuk, who naturally always controls the mouse, tries to avoid posts by anti-fans so as not to hurt the band, but sometimes they’ll come up. Usually, though, they’re so ridiculous that the boys find it hard to take offense.
Eeteuk reads the post out loud for those unfortunate ones in the back - and Sungmin, who’s standing in the doorway with an ice pack on his left foot.
“OMG Ryeowook is so sexy in this album! Wookie-oppa, you get cuter and cuter every time I see you!”
At this, Ryeowook giggles softly and Heechul punches him on the shoulder. “You’re such a pretty-boy.”
Eeteuk reads on:
“Kyuhyun… your voice is love! Someday I wish that you could come sing to me… ah, so wonderful…
Kibummie! OMG THERE YOU ARE, ELF MISSED YOU! And so did Donghae… ahaha!”
Donghae cringes. Kibum, of course, isn’t home.
“I love Heechul’s new hairstyle!
And wow, Shindong looks good! Shindong-oppa fighting!!
But what happened to Kangin-oppa? His face is so swollen… I can hardly recognize him… wow… what a disappointment…”
Eeteuk’s voice trails off. “Oh, um.” He moves to click out of the page, but the mouse lags and Ryeowook and the others catch a glimpse of no less than six comments in total agreement.
Kyuhyun laughs nervously.
“I’m sure she didn’t mean it,” says Hankyung kindly. “Maybe she was just joking…?”
“Yeah,” Heechul pipes in. “You know these netizens, always trying to be funny.” And Kangin laughs too, but something about his laugh sounds different; it kind of reminds Ryeowook of the kind of strained chuckle he heard last week when Sungmin told Eeteuk that the creases under his eyes made him look like a loving old father.
-
The next morning when Ryeowook gets up to make breakfast, Kangin isn’t in his bed; Siwon, who wakes up at some insanely early hour, says he saw him leaving the dorm in workout
gear.
“He’s probably gone to practice the ‘Sorry Sorry’ steps again,” Donghae says with a shrug. He pulls out a chair at the table and grins. “Oh man, that smells good. What is it?”
“Pancakes,” says Ryeowook. “And bacon. Western-style.” He slides a loaded plate across the table. “Tell me how it is.”
Donghae’s eyes light up. “If you made it, it’s bound to be incredible.” He clenches a fork upside-down in his fist and struggles to stab a pancake with the tongs. Kibum, master of Western utensils, comes running across the room to help out; Ryeowook smiles and shakes his head and goes back to fixing plates for the others. One, two, three… twelve in total, enough for everyone but himself. Ryeowook doesn’t eat breakfast, he hasn’t since they debuted and he probably won’t until he’s out of Korea’s limelight. The other members stopped questioning this long ago; it’s become a simple fact of life, kind of like the way Heechul gets mad if he doesn’t have a bubble bath every morning at 6:40.
Twelve plates minus Donghae’s minus Siwon’s minus Kibum’s makes nine. Nine hot plates of pancakes-and-bacon sitting out on the counter. Nine people should be filing in just about now - and here they come, Shindong, Kyuhyun, Eeteuk, followed by Heechul shaking his hair around like a wet dog. Then Hankyung, Sungmin, Eunhyuk, and Yesung, and soon eleven members are sitting down at the table chatting and spearing their pancakes the wrong way and stealing bacon off of one another’s dishes.
Ryeowook stays in the kitchen to clean up. He keeps an eye on the twelfth plate, but no one comes to claim it; eventually he gives it to Shindong and Sungmin to share and goes back to washing the piles of dishes (that’s the price of cooking for thirteen), but he can’t help being bothered by the imbalance of heads at the table and plates in the sink.
-
When Kangin doesn’t show up for lunch either (Hankyung’s Beijing fried rice), Ryeowook pushes aside his tiny bowl and excuses himself from the table without having taken a bite.
He finds the older man in his room, staring hard into the mirror and pressing at his cheeks, his narrowed, bloodshot eyes shooting daggers at his reflection.
“I want to talk to you,” says Ryeowook quietly. Kangin jumps.
“Wh- you didn’t knock- get out.”
“The door was open,” Ryeowook replies with a shrug. He sits down on the bed. “Why aren’t you at lunch?”
“Not hungry,” Kangin mumbles without taking his eyes off the mirror.
“Hankyung made fried rice.”
“I said I’m not hungry,” Kangin repeats, and then his stomach growls and he blushes.
Ryeowook sighs. “Come sit down with me.”
“No.”
“Hyung, please.”
Kangin pulls himself away from his own image to face the bed, but remains standing. “What do you want?”
“Don’t be like this. I know what you’re thinking. I want to talk to you.”
“Be like what?”
“Come on…” says Ryeowook. “Please, hyung, just sit down.”
Kangin sits but doesn’t say anything. The next few moments are thick with heavy silence and Ryeowook wonders if maybe he’s overreacting, but then again he knows what could happen if he doesn’t overreact now, and- no, no, no, he won’t let anything like that happen because he knows better and he can stop it before it starts.
“I like your face,” Ryeowook says.
Kangin stares at him.
“You’ve got a nice smile,” Ryeowook continues, “and I like your eyes. Actually, I think you probably have the best eyes of anyone in Super Junior. They sparkle when you’re happy, did you know? No one else’s eyes do that.”
“Yesterday-” Kangin’s breath catches- “yesterday, those fans…”
“I really like your face,” Ryeowook repeats firmly.
“They said it was swollen,” says Kangin.
Ryeowook waits.
“They said it was swollen… they said I’m unrecognizable…. they- they said I’m disappointing.” Kangin clenches his eyes shut, but Ryeowook can see hints of already-fallen tears at the corners. “I’m supposed to be an idol. How come… I can’t even do that right?”
Ryeowook still doesn’t say anything, because too many thoughts are flying through his head and he can’t figure out which one to latch onto; he wraps a frail arm around Kangin’s bigger shoulders and squeezes.
(Outside, Sungmin yells out to them - “Ryeowook! Youngwoon! Lunch is almost gone, come and eat!” and Ryeowook yells back, “It’s okay, finish up, we’ll get something later!” and Kangin tenses up beneath his palm.)
“You don’t have to be here.” Kangin’s focused on the carpet again.
“But I want to.”
“Why?”
Ryeowook sighs. “You know,” he says, “I hate what I see when I look in the mirror.”
Kangin blinks. “What?”
“Yeah.” Ryeowook glances subconsciously at the mirror on the door; the person staring back at him looks exactly the same as the one staring at him five years ago. “I always have.”
“But… you’re really good-looking, Wook-ah.”
“No, I’m not,” Ryeowook says firmly - this is something that’s been pre-determined, don’t argue with me. “But you know what? I’m in Super Junior because of my voice, right? We may be idols, but we’re performers first. I think you have one of the best personalities of all the members - that’s why you have so many fans-”
“My fans are disappointed in me,” Kangin says bitterly.
“No, hyung… your fans are just looking out for you. If you seem unhappy, they’re unhappy too. What do you think they’d say if they knew you were locked up in your room all day refusing to eat?”
Kangin takes a deep breath. “They’d worry…”
“Yeah.”
It’s funny, Ryeowook thinks - all he’s doing is regurgitating the same words people have used on him over the years, words he’s never believed himself, but they seem to be working on Kangin and so he’ll just keep spitting them out until everything’s better.
“It doesn’t matter what the fans think of how you look. Show them the Kangin you’re happy with, and they will be just as satisfied.”
It’s not until the light streams in through the window and bounces off Kangin’s teeth, shiny and fresh and bright, that Ryeowook realizes the older man is smiling. He stops talking (silence is refreshing, natural, comforting) gives Kangin’s shoulder another squeeze - “Be happy, hyung,” - and stands to leave.
“Wait,” says Kangin. Ryeowook looks back, into dark brown eyes that are filled deep with unsaid thanks (instead of glistening tears) and at the dimpled grin that’s spreading across Kangin’s rounder cheeks - not like that matters, Ryeowook tells himself - and it’s all so infectious, he can’t help but smile back.
“Yeah, hyung?”
“Can you see if Hankyung has any fried rice left? I’m starving.”
Ryeowook laughs. “Be right back.”
(He comes back with a heaping bowl and two sets of chopsticks and doesn’t leave until four in the morning; when he finally falls asleep, he dreams of dimples and soft, soft skin.)
pairing: Kangin/Ryeowook
rating: PG
word count: 1612
{prompt: [089] "I like your face", (001/100)}
summary: Ryeowook knows what it's like.
author's note: First Super Junior fic.
-
“Haha, guys, check out this one.” Eeteuk clicks on a bold green link: MY OPINIONS ON THE THIRD ALBUM. “Let’s see how we’re doing, hmm?”
The other members (well, those who can fit) crowd around the computer screen. Ryeowook quickly slips into the space closest to their leader. Someone steps on Sungmin’s foot and he skulks off, pouting and leaving an open space, which Heechul immediately rushes to fill, though this means that Eunhyuk gets shoved out of the way and nearly trips over Donghae.
(Hey, competition is tough in the entertainment industry.)
This is one of their favorite pastimes - not kicking and pushing each other around, but rather surfing the Internet to read blogs about themselves. The release of Sorry, Sorry has spawned hundreds of new posts, most of which are of the fangirlish-squealing sort, but some of which are incredibly nasty. Eeteuk, who naturally always controls the mouse, tries to avoid posts by anti-fans so as not to hurt the band, but sometimes they’ll come up. Usually, though, they’re so ridiculous that the boys find it hard to take offense.
Eeteuk reads the post out loud for those unfortunate ones in the back - and Sungmin, who’s standing in the doorway with an ice pack on his left foot.
“OMG Ryeowook is so sexy in this album! Wookie-oppa, you get cuter and cuter every time I see you!”
At this, Ryeowook giggles softly and Heechul punches him on the shoulder. “You’re such a pretty-boy.”
Eeteuk reads on:
“Kyuhyun… your voice is love! Someday I wish that you could come sing to me… ah, so wonderful…
Kibummie! OMG THERE YOU ARE, ELF MISSED YOU! And so did Donghae… ahaha!”
Donghae cringes. Kibum, of course, isn’t home.
“I love Heechul’s new hairstyle!
And wow, Shindong looks good! Shindong-oppa fighting!!
But what happened to Kangin-oppa? His face is so swollen… I can hardly recognize him… wow… what a disappointment…”
Eeteuk’s voice trails off. “Oh, um.” He moves to click out of the page, but the mouse lags and Ryeowook and the others catch a glimpse of no less than six comments in total agreement.
Kyuhyun laughs nervously.
“I’m sure she didn’t mean it,” says Hankyung kindly. “Maybe she was just joking…?”
“Yeah,” Heechul pipes in. “You know these netizens, always trying to be funny.” And Kangin laughs too, but something about his laugh sounds different; it kind of reminds Ryeowook of the kind of strained chuckle he heard last week when Sungmin told Eeteuk that the creases under his eyes made him look like a loving old father.
-
The next morning when Ryeowook gets up to make breakfast, Kangin isn’t in his bed; Siwon, who wakes up at some insanely early hour, says he saw him leaving the dorm in workout
gear.
“He’s probably gone to practice the ‘Sorry Sorry’ steps again,” Donghae says with a shrug. He pulls out a chair at the table and grins. “Oh man, that smells good. What is it?”
“Pancakes,” says Ryeowook. “And bacon. Western-style.” He slides a loaded plate across the table. “Tell me how it is.”
Donghae’s eyes light up. “If you made it, it’s bound to be incredible.” He clenches a fork upside-down in his fist and struggles to stab a pancake with the tongs. Kibum, master of Western utensils, comes running across the room to help out; Ryeowook smiles and shakes his head and goes back to fixing plates for the others. One, two, three… twelve in total, enough for everyone but himself. Ryeowook doesn’t eat breakfast, he hasn’t since they debuted and he probably won’t until he’s out of Korea’s limelight. The other members stopped questioning this long ago; it’s become a simple fact of life, kind of like the way Heechul gets mad if he doesn’t have a bubble bath every morning at 6:40.
Twelve plates minus Donghae’s minus Siwon’s minus Kibum’s makes nine. Nine hot plates of pancakes-and-bacon sitting out on the counter. Nine people should be filing in just about now - and here they come, Shindong, Kyuhyun, Eeteuk, followed by Heechul shaking his hair around like a wet dog. Then Hankyung, Sungmin, Eunhyuk, and Yesung, and soon eleven members are sitting down at the table chatting and spearing their pancakes the wrong way and stealing bacon off of one another’s dishes.
Ryeowook stays in the kitchen to clean up. He keeps an eye on the twelfth plate, but no one comes to claim it; eventually he gives it to Shindong and Sungmin to share and goes back to washing the piles of dishes (that’s the price of cooking for thirteen), but he can’t help being bothered by the imbalance of heads at the table and plates in the sink.
-
When Kangin doesn’t show up for lunch either (Hankyung’s Beijing fried rice), Ryeowook pushes aside his tiny bowl and excuses himself from the table without having taken a bite.
He finds the older man in his room, staring hard into the mirror and pressing at his cheeks, his narrowed, bloodshot eyes shooting daggers at his reflection.
“I want to talk to you,” says Ryeowook quietly. Kangin jumps.
“Wh- you didn’t knock- get out.”
“The door was open,” Ryeowook replies with a shrug. He sits down on the bed. “Why aren’t you at lunch?”
“Not hungry,” Kangin mumbles without taking his eyes off the mirror.
“Hankyung made fried rice.”
“I said I’m not hungry,” Kangin repeats, and then his stomach growls and he blushes.
Ryeowook sighs. “Come sit down with me.”
“No.”
“Hyung, please.”
Kangin pulls himself away from his own image to face the bed, but remains standing. “What do you want?”
“Don’t be like this. I know what you’re thinking. I want to talk to you.”
“Be like what?”
“Come on…” says Ryeowook. “Please, hyung, just sit down.”
Kangin sits but doesn’t say anything. The next few moments are thick with heavy silence and Ryeowook wonders if maybe he’s overreacting, but then again he knows what could happen if he doesn’t overreact now, and- no, no, no, he won’t let anything like that happen because he knows better and he can stop it before it starts.
“I like your face,” Ryeowook says.
Kangin stares at him.
“You’ve got a nice smile,” Ryeowook continues, “and I like your eyes. Actually, I think you probably have the best eyes of anyone in Super Junior. They sparkle when you’re happy, did you know? No one else’s eyes do that.”
“Yesterday-” Kangin’s breath catches- “yesterday, those fans…”
“I really like your face,” Ryeowook repeats firmly.
“They said it was swollen,” says Kangin.
Ryeowook waits.
“They said it was swollen… they said I’m unrecognizable…. they- they said I’m disappointing.” Kangin clenches his eyes shut, but Ryeowook can see hints of already-fallen tears at the corners. “I’m supposed to be an idol. How come… I can’t even do that right?”
Ryeowook still doesn’t say anything, because too many thoughts are flying through his head and he can’t figure out which one to latch onto; he wraps a frail arm around Kangin’s bigger shoulders and squeezes.
(Outside, Sungmin yells out to them - “Ryeowook! Youngwoon! Lunch is almost gone, come and eat!” and Ryeowook yells back, “It’s okay, finish up, we’ll get something later!” and Kangin tenses up beneath his palm.)
“You don’t have to be here.” Kangin’s focused on the carpet again.
“But I want to.”
“Why?”
Ryeowook sighs. “You know,” he says, “I hate what I see when I look in the mirror.”
Kangin blinks. “What?”
“Yeah.” Ryeowook glances subconsciously at the mirror on the door; the person staring back at him looks exactly the same as the one staring at him five years ago. “I always have.”
“But… you’re really good-looking, Wook-ah.”
“No, I’m not,” Ryeowook says firmly - this is something that’s been pre-determined, don’t argue with me. “But you know what? I’m in Super Junior because of my voice, right? We may be idols, but we’re performers first. I think you have one of the best personalities of all the members - that’s why you have so many fans-”
“My fans are disappointed in me,” Kangin says bitterly.
“No, hyung… your fans are just looking out for you. If you seem unhappy, they’re unhappy too. What do you think they’d say if they knew you were locked up in your room all day refusing to eat?”
Kangin takes a deep breath. “They’d worry…”
“Yeah.”
It’s funny, Ryeowook thinks - all he’s doing is regurgitating the same words people have used on him over the years, words he’s never believed himself, but they seem to be working on Kangin and so he’ll just keep spitting them out until everything’s better.
“It doesn’t matter what the fans think of how you look. Show them the Kangin you’re happy with, and they will be just as satisfied.”
It’s not until the light streams in through the window and bounces off Kangin’s teeth, shiny and fresh and bright, that Ryeowook realizes the older man is smiling. He stops talking (silence is refreshing, natural, comforting) gives Kangin’s shoulder another squeeze - “Be happy, hyung,” - and stands to leave.
“Wait,” says Kangin. Ryeowook looks back, into dark brown eyes that are filled deep with unsaid thanks (instead of glistening tears) and at the dimpled grin that’s spreading across Kangin’s rounder cheeks - not like that matters, Ryeowook tells himself - and it’s all so infectious, he can’t help but smile back.
“Yeah, hyung?”
“Can you see if Hankyung has any fried rice left? I’m starving.”
Ryeowook laughs. “Be right back.”
(He comes back with a heaping bowl and two sets of chopsticks and doesn’t leave until four in the morning; when he finally falls asleep, he dreams of dimples and soft, soft skin.)