fic; suju
title heart
rating pg-13
pairing hyukhae/cinhae
summary every time i wind up back at your door. -maroon 5
oo1;
You don't realize it; when it's over you don't give him back the ring he gave you for your birthday past (when you try to he says: keep it. it's not like i need it. it can be a symbol that we're still friends, okay?). So you keep it, and the tight silver band suffocates the skin underneath, pale and clammy.
Hyukjae finds someone else within weeks (Sungmin is soft and willing, a feminine contrast to your sharp angles and hard shoulders), but you can't seem to find anyone.
oo2;
"I'm single," you tell Shiwon, and he sweeps you off your feet with gentlemanly charm. His smile dazzles so brightly that after he fucks you into the mattress all you can see is shadows and black. "Sungmin was such a good friend," you whisper into Shiwon's damp hair as you curl into each other.
"What?"
"Nothing."
003;
"Hyung, you should keep your hair like that," you tell Heechul.
He smirks: "It looks good, right?" and invites you to his apartment, where the vodka is acidic and bitter but you swallow it down anyway (the way it burns down your throat and makes your eyes water gives you an excuse). Later when Heechul's kissing you, you can lick the taste of vodka from the roof of his mouth and the sting it brings is good, because now all the blood is rushing to your limbs and head and the pulse that you feel and hear is too loud, too close, too hot.
So you undress.
"Why doesn't he want me anymore?" you gasp aloud when Heechul's fingertips are hot against your stomach.
"What, Donghae?"
"Nothing."
004;
You've lost the ring.
You must've taken it off last night.
It's not under the pillows, on the floor, under Heechul's pile of clothes, in the sheets, under the bed (--"Donghae, stop. You'll find it eventually. You're tearing apart my room!"--). Going through Heechul's drawers, taking off the bed sheets, going through every pocket of every piece of clothing in the room, and all the while your head is pounding, pounding, pounding.
"Where is it?" you scream, and you have to stay still for a moment as the sound waves crash into each other and the room spins.
"Calm down," Heechul grits dangerously from the corner of his own room.
"I have to find it. Hyung, I have to find it."
Slowly, venomsouly: "Well, it's obviously not in here."
He tells you to go back home; Kibum can walk you. Heechul has to get ready for his schedule.
oo5;
"Take it back," you catch him saying to Hyukjae backstage before the performance. "He doesn't want it anymore."
"Can't he tell me himself?"
"He doesn't need it--this!--anymore."
You walk toward them, calm, stable, collected. "I've been looking for this, Heechul," you say gently, taking the ring from him. "Thank you."
Heechul puts a protective arm around your shoulders: "Go on; give it back."
"You left this for me," you say to Hyukjae, "because it didn't mean anything to you." You meant it as a question, but it doesn't need to be answered.
He is silent.
"I'll give it to a fan," you continue.
Heechul steers you away, further backstage, into an empty dressing room. "It's just Trot, first," he says. "So stay here for a little while."
He must've noticed the way your lips were beginning to tremble.
oo6;
After the performance, after the press, after the lights go out, you retreat back between the sheets and Heechul's legs, alcohol settling on the back of your throat and ask, "Why doesn't he need me anymore?" The ring is in your hands; you couldn't have thrown it out into the audience, anyway.
"He's replaced you," Heechul replies, his warmth wrapped around you to soften the words. You look at the ring carefully (the silver is tarnished in some places, rust discoloring the edges just slightly).
"I could replace him."
When he moves closer to kiss you the ring falls from your hands, caught between you both on the bed sheets.
-x-
[a/n] inspired partly from life. not revised. written too quickly. meh.
comments/concrit appreciated.
-quix.
rating pg-13
pairing hyukhae/cinhae
summary every time i wind up back at your door. -maroon 5
oo1;
You don't realize it; when it's over you don't give him back the ring he gave you for your birthday past (when you try to he says: keep it. it's not like i need it. it can be a symbol that we're still friends, okay?). So you keep it, and the tight silver band suffocates the skin underneath, pale and clammy.
Hyukjae finds someone else within weeks (Sungmin is soft and willing, a feminine contrast to your sharp angles and hard shoulders), but you can't seem to find anyone.
oo2;
"I'm single," you tell Shiwon, and he sweeps you off your feet with gentlemanly charm. His smile dazzles so brightly that after he fucks you into the mattress all you can see is shadows and black. "Sungmin was such a good friend," you whisper into Shiwon's damp hair as you curl into each other.
"What?"
"Nothing."
003;
"Hyung, you should keep your hair like that," you tell Heechul.
He smirks: "It looks good, right?" and invites you to his apartment, where the vodka is acidic and bitter but you swallow it down anyway (the way it burns down your throat and makes your eyes water gives you an excuse). Later when Heechul's kissing you, you can lick the taste of vodka from the roof of his mouth and the sting it brings is good, because now all the blood is rushing to your limbs and head and the pulse that you feel and hear is too loud, too close, too hot.
So you undress.
"Why doesn't he want me anymore?" you gasp aloud when Heechul's fingertips are hot against your stomach.
"What, Donghae?"
"Nothing."
004;
You've lost the ring.
You must've taken it off last night.
It's not under the pillows, on the floor, under Heechul's pile of clothes, in the sheets, under the bed (--"Donghae, stop. You'll find it eventually. You're tearing apart my room!"--). Going through Heechul's drawers, taking off the bed sheets, going through every pocket of every piece of clothing in the room, and all the while your head is pounding, pounding, pounding.
"Where is it?" you scream, and you have to stay still for a moment as the sound waves crash into each other and the room spins.
"Calm down," Heechul grits dangerously from the corner of his own room.
"I have to find it. Hyung, I have to find it."
Slowly, venomsouly: "Well, it's obviously not in here."
He tells you to go back home; Kibum can walk you. Heechul has to get ready for his schedule.
oo5;
"Take it back," you catch him saying to Hyukjae backstage before the performance. "He doesn't want it anymore."
"Can't he tell me himself?"
"He doesn't need it--this!--anymore."
You walk toward them, calm, stable, collected. "I've been looking for this, Heechul," you say gently, taking the ring from him. "Thank you."
Heechul puts a protective arm around your shoulders: "Go on; give it back."
"You left this for me," you say to Hyukjae, "because it didn't mean anything to you." You meant it as a question, but it doesn't need to be answered.
He is silent.
"I'll give it to a fan," you continue.
Heechul steers you away, further backstage, into an empty dressing room. "It's just Trot, first," he says. "So stay here for a little while."
He must've noticed the way your lips were beginning to tremble.
oo6;
After the performance, after the press, after the lights go out, you retreat back between the sheets and Heechul's legs, alcohol settling on the back of your throat and ask, "Why doesn't he need me anymore?" The ring is in your hands; you couldn't have thrown it out into the audience, anyway.
"He's replaced you," Heechul replies, his warmth wrapped around you to soften the words. You look at the ring carefully (the silver is tarnished in some places, rust discoloring the edges just slightly).
"I could replace him."
When he moves closer to kiss you the ring falls from your hands, caught between you both on the bed sheets.
-x-
[a/n] inspired partly from life. not revised. written too quickly. meh.
comments/concrit appreciated.
-quix.