Repeat. - Oneshot (various pairings)
Title: Repeat.
Author: kayjayloves
Chapter: 1/1
Pairing: onesided?Kangin/Eunhyuk, Kangin/Eeteuk, Eunhyuk/Donghae, Eeteuk/?
Band: Super Junior
Genre: angst-ish? AU
Rating: PG13
Warning: mentions of drugs and smut, crude language
Disclaimer: Don't own these boys, just my interpretations of them.
Synopsis: "Kangin is used to this. He’s used to the trouble, the debts, the midnight visits after gang fights and cop scares."
Comments: original post here
1.
Eunhyuk is Hyukjae before he becomes Eunhyuk, and he tells this to Donghae under the cover of dim lights, through the haze clouding his thoughts.
“Hyukjae is nice.” He declares, breathing out a flurry of smoke. Donghae giggles. “He’s before the stealing and the money."
He thinks about it later when he’s curled near the wall; a taste in his mouth that could be Donghae - he’s not too sure, he’s too tired to think about what happened this time - and he cries. Softly, one tear, and he thinks of himself as Hyukjae.
2.
Eeteuk comes to the bed with half a glass of wine and only a long thin shirt. The customary smile is in place, and the words he always repeats before they start are murmured again, quiet and firm.
“This is only temporary.”
He whimpers into Kangin’s collarbone that night, but Kangin only catches snippets of words, and knows his name has never had a ‘min’ in it.
He wonders why they’re doing this.
3.
Donghae could care less about all of it; he likes the rush, he likes the excitement - but it’s habit that keeps him in a never-ending cycle.
Stealing. Money. Drugs. Debt. Repeat.
He thinks it’s funny sometimes, when he’s awake and quiet and afraid to leave his room. He knows what they say about him, the joking comments about keeping your enemies close and Donghae closer - because he’ll rip you off and steal your money in the blink of an eye if you don’t watch.
“He’s just that smooth.” They say with awe. “Him and Eunhyuk, they own this work.”
It’s a compliment, he supposes, but he could care less. The thought makes him laugh.
4.
“Fuck.” Kangin swears, the night they appear at his door in tatters. The coppery tang of blood hangs heavy around them, and the hall light does little to hide the darkening bruises on Donghae’s face. “Shit… hell.”
It’s when Eunhyuk stumbles into his arms that he jerks into action. With a running commentary of how stupid they are, he carries him to the couch, grimacing at the blood and filth that seeps through his shirt. Donghae follows and collapses in a heap on the floor nearby - the room feels cramped with three bodies filling it.
Kangin watches a cut on Eunhyuk’s cheek ooze, and swallows another curse. He hears Donghae hacking onto the carpet as he freezes; Eunhyuk’s hazy eyes catch and tangle with his.
A moment later he comes to his senses and calls Eeteuk.
5.
It’s an accident, Eunhyuk thinks, as he tears down the alleyway. Footsteps sound behind him, and he shouts - waiting for a reply from Donghae. The answer never comes and the blood boils up into his fists. He doesn’t expect them to have pipes.
He jerks back into awareness and sees brown eyes and worried features. The dream - the memory, he realizes - fades to the back of his mind, and he sighs. Only grudging eyes etched with concern remain.
6.
“You’re cute.” Eeteuk mentions, throwing the words backwards as he bandages Donghae’s arm. Kangin snorts in response.
Eeteuk knows the glances Kangin throws at Eunhyuk, he can feel the way Kangin’s heart clenches painfully at the sight of him, and he understands better than Kangin himself when Kangin mutters, “Shut the fuck up around these kids, they’re injured.”
Eeteuk grins at his victory; swallows down the bitter taste when he remembers his understanding comes from experience.
7.
Donghae fights the monsters in his sleep, chases the lights and falls behind, and wakes up craving a high. He reaches out for the lamp and finds a wall - and forgets to remember where he is.
Investigating fingers along his side notice soft bandages and cleaned cuts. Someone sleeps nearby; he hopes it’s Eunhyuk, who knows the terror of unconscious thoughts and holds him close when the tremors take over. He strains his eyes, but can’t tell.
He breathes out air; wants to breathe in smoke.
8.
Kangin is used to this. He’s used to the trouble, the debts, the midnight visits after gang fights and cop scares. He thinks about leaving a key under the mat outside, once, but discards the idea immediately. He’s only their pit stop - their supply closet to hide in while the danger passes.
They leave in the morning, and he lingers too long after Eunhyuk’s frame disappears down the hall. Eeteuk’s cackle ricochets off his ears.
9.
“Sorry.” Eunhyuk says, while Donghae latches the door behind them in the one-room loft. Donghae pushes his shoulder gently in reply, and flops down on the bed with a wince. Eunhyuk stays standing.
Sorry, he repeats silently, as he counts out the last of their cash. The streets are dangerous now, they’ll ride out the next few days here - maybe beg some food off Kangin before the next deal comes. He goes and sits by the single window; feels the sun burn into his skin, and dreams.
Images of freedom, honesty, and the refrain to a song he heard at an apartment across town last night bloom.
10.
Eeteuk feels imperfection on his own skin, tastes normality and comfort on Kangin’s. They fit together well, he knows - two puzzle pieces cut and painted as though to complete each other; but he realizes he’s bent wrong, because his piece doesn’t want to fit.
Temporary, he reassures himself, when he thinks of the puzzle and the way this is all wrong. Temporary; but he’d send the box in and gets smooth, unmarred pieces if he could.
He sees the face of a pure boy miles away as he huddles under Kangin’s covers, and feels sickened by himself.
11.
Donghae washes the blood off their clothes in dying light, and loses himself in the thoughts he can’t put in words.
He thinks of Kangin and the way he lets them in every time, with no questions and harmless complaints. He thinks of Eeteuk, who hangs around with smiles, bandages wounds with care, and then quietly detaches himself.
He thinks of the smoke permanently caught in the walls of the house, and Eunhyuk sleeping by the window. He thinks of loneliness, of desperation, of hope.
It’s a cycle, he thinks.
Wash, rinse, repeat.
Author: kayjayloves
Chapter: 1/1
Pairing: onesided?Kangin/Eunhyuk, Kangin/Eeteuk, Eunhyuk/Donghae, Eeteuk/?
Band: Super Junior
Genre: angst-ish? AU
Rating: PG13
Warning: mentions of drugs and smut, crude language
Disclaimer: Don't own these boys, just my interpretations of them.
Synopsis: "Kangin is used to this. He’s used to the trouble, the debts, the midnight visits after gang fights and cop scares."
Comments: original post here
1.
Eunhyuk is Hyukjae before he becomes Eunhyuk, and he tells this to Donghae under the cover of dim lights, through the haze clouding his thoughts.
“Hyukjae is nice.” He declares, breathing out a flurry of smoke. Donghae giggles. “He’s before the stealing and the money."
He thinks about it later when he’s curled near the wall; a taste in his mouth that could be Donghae - he’s not too sure, he’s too tired to think about what happened this time - and he cries. Softly, one tear, and he thinks of himself as Hyukjae.
2.
Eeteuk comes to the bed with half a glass of wine and only a long thin shirt. The customary smile is in place, and the words he always repeats before they start are murmured again, quiet and firm.
“This is only temporary.”
He whimpers into Kangin’s collarbone that night, but Kangin only catches snippets of words, and knows his name has never had a ‘min’ in it.
He wonders why they’re doing this.
3.
Donghae could care less about all of it; he likes the rush, he likes the excitement - but it’s habit that keeps him in a never-ending cycle.
Stealing. Money. Drugs. Debt. Repeat.
He thinks it’s funny sometimes, when he’s awake and quiet and afraid to leave his room. He knows what they say about him, the joking comments about keeping your enemies close and Donghae closer - because he’ll rip you off and steal your money in the blink of an eye if you don’t watch.
“He’s just that smooth.” They say with awe. “Him and Eunhyuk, they own this work.”
It’s a compliment, he supposes, but he could care less. The thought makes him laugh.
4.
“Fuck.” Kangin swears, the night they appear at his door in tatters. The coppery tang of blood hangs heavy around them, and the hall light does little to hide the darkening bruises on Donghae’s face. “Shit… hell.”
It’s when Eunhyuk stumbles into his arms that he jerks into action. With a running commentary of how stupid they are, he carries him to the couch, grimacing at the blood and filth that seeps through his shirt. Donghae follows and collapses in a heap on the floor nearby - the room feels cramped with three bodies filling it.
Kangin watches a cut on Eunhyuk’s cheek ooze, and swallows another curse. He hears Donghae hacking onto the carpet as he freezes; Eunhyuk’s hazy eyes catch and tangle with his.
A moment later he comes to his senses and calls Eeteuk.
5.
It’s an accident, Eunhyuk thinks, as he tears down the alleyway. Footsteps sound behind him, and he shouts - waiting for a reply from Donghae. The answer never comes and the blood boils up into his fists. He doesn’t expect them to have pipes.
He jerks back into awareness and sees brown eyes and worried features. The dream - the memory, he realizes - fades to the back of his mind, and he sighs. Only grudging eyes etched with concern remain.
6.
“You’re cute.” Eeteuk mentions, throwing the words backwards as he bandages Donghae’s arm. Kangin snorts in response.
Eeteuk knows the glances Kangin throws at Eunhyuk, he can feel the way Kangin’s heart clenches painfully at the sight of him, and he understands better than Kangin himself when Kangin mutters, “Shut the fuck up around these kids, they’re injured.”
Eeteuk grins at his victory; swallows down the bitter taste when he remembers his understanding comes from experience.
7.
Donghae fights the monsters in his sleep, chases the lights and falls behind, and wakes up craving a high. He reaches out for the lamp and finds a wall - and forgets to remember where he is.
Investigating fingers along his side notice soft bandages and cleaned cuts. Someone sleeps nearby; he hopes it’s Eunhyuk, who knows the terror of unconscious thoughts and holds him close when the tremors take over. He strains his eyes, but can’t tell.
He breathes out air; wants to breathe in smoke.
8.
Kangin is used to this. He’s used to the trouble, the debts, the midnight visits after gang fights and cop scares. He thinks about leaving a key under the mat outside, once, but discards the idea immediately. He’s only their pit stop - their supply closet to hide in while the danger passes.
They leave in the morning, and he lingers too long after Eunhyuk’s frame disappears down the hall. Eeteuk’s cackle ricochets off his ears.
9.
“Sorry.” Eunhyuk says, while Donghae latches the door behind them in the one-room loft. Donghae pushes his shoulder gently in reply, and flops down on the bed with a wince. Eunhyuk stays standing.
Sorry, he repeats silently, as he counts out the last of their cash. The streets are dangerous now, they’ll ride out the next few days here - maybe beg some food off Kangin before the next deal comes. He goes and sits by the single window; feels the sun burn into his skin, and dreams.
Images of freedom, honesty, and the refrain to a song he heard at an apartment across town last night bloom.
10.
Eeteuk feels imperfection on his own skin, tastes normality and comfort on Kangin’s. They fit together well, he knows - two puzzle pieces cut and painted as though to complete each other; but he realizes he’s bent wrong, because his piece doesn’t want to fit.
Temporary, he reassures himself, when he thinks of the puzzle and the way this is all wrong. Temporary; but he’d send the box in and gets smooth, unmarred pieces if he could.
He sees the face of a pure boy miles away as he huddles under Kangin’s covers, and feels sickened by himself.
11.
Donghae washes the blood off their clothes in dying light, and loses himself in the thoughts he can’t put in words.
He thinks of Kangin and the way he lets them in every time, with no questions and harmless complaints. He thinks of Eeteuk, who hangs around with smiles, bandages wounds with care, and then quietly detaches himself.
He thinks of the smoke permanently caught in the walls of the house, and Eunhyuk sleeping by the window. He thinks of loneliness, of desperation, of hope.
It’s a cycle, he thinks.
Wash, rinse, repeat.