spring goddamn motherfcking cleaning.
I am so sick of WiPs. I am abandoning them. But before that, I will post them. So that they're out of my hands, for good, and there is nothing I can do about it afterwards.
SEKRIT UNDERCOVER SHIHAN which makes kghdkfjgh no fucking sense. But the key idea was like, they're both undercover AGENTS. In a boyband. And they fuck and fall in love and OH THE TRAVESTY of being an undercover agent and fucking another undercover agent (for separate parties) and ..yeah, it was a good idea that just didn't turn out good. I began writing this when I was *REALLY* new with Suju.
--
He wasn't trained in martial arts and ballet so he could answer phones. And yet, here Han Geng was, time after time picking up the receiver and saying, “Silver Tune Records, how may I help you?”.
“You have to start from the bottom,” some relative had once told him. “Work your way up.”
And there he was, at the bottom, taking calls and writing memos, and his boss was fond of him, but not fond enough to give him a chance. For once, Han Geng hoped, he would be asked, “How may I help you?” so that he could finally answer, “Just let me do all that I can.”
He knew he could do so much more than this.
*
Judging from how important this mission had sounded on the telephone, how frantic and nervous his boss appeared to be right now, Siwon had assumed he'd be doing something enormously exciting and influential. Infiltrating a foreign government, at the least.
“Super Junior?” he asked, flipping through the case file. He didn't dare say, You've got to be fucking kidding me out loud to his boss' face so he merely raised an eye-brow to make his point.
“Yes,” Director Kim merely said.
“But it's a boyband,” Siwon groaned. “I thought this would be something of actual importance.”
His boss frowned. “If this band makes it, do you understand how much money they'll generate? Boybands have more power than some regional governments, for crying out loud, have you heard of Shinhwa?”
“So what exactly does our client want me to do?” Siwon asked, trying to appear patient. All his years of special agent training, and his first big gig would be to bring down a cheesy pop group. This wasn't happening.
“Join them, observe them, find their weaknesses and then, when our client wants you to--.”
“Super Junior goes kaboom, I get it. But join them? As in, their production theme, management, PR?”
“No, them. Become a member, sing, dance, appear on variety television. The whole works.” Director Kim was grinning lop-sidedly, mockery in his tone. Siwon had never had it easy under his wing, his talents constantly doubted (out of jealousy, he could only assume), but this one took the cake. His first solo mission and what did his task mostly comprise of? Dancing. Not that he couldn't do it (he knew he could), but..
“How does this serve the purpose of the mission? Wouldn't it be easier to give them PR death if I was just working in the background somewhere?”
Director Kim huffed irritably. Siwon just grinned. Not a man of logic, this one.
“Listen, I don't know. What our client wants, we do. End of story. My secretary's going to give you a rundown of the proceedings and there's a few people we bribed to help you out. We're sending you to SM training before this weekend. Don't disappoint us, Agent Choi, this is your big opportunity.” Director Kim got up. “Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a plane to catch.”
Siwon bowed and left the office silently, not caring how impolite he might've come across as. They had been telling him for three years, every time he received a task, “this could be it”, “your big chance”, “don't screw this one up”. And every time when he had excelled, they backtracked on their promises. “We'll see about it later”, “resources are tight at the moment”, “we have no need”, “you're good as you are”.
He was good as he was. In fact, he was excellent. And frustrated.
*
Han Geng's palms were sweating. He tried to get comfortable in the chair, but it seemed to be impossible, as no matter how he sat, his heart was beating in his throat and his hands shook a little. Finally his boss entered the office, and behind him a secretary, serving them tea.
Han Geng drank too quick, first burning his tongue and then choking, but his boss didn't even notice.
“How do you feel about a career opportunity abroad?” he was asked, straight-forward and unexpected and he coughed and apologized and coughed some more.
Then, with tears in his eyes from the coughing or out of appreciation, he listened to his boss explain everything. It seemed like he was listening to a foreign language.
“Super Junior?” he repeated.
His boss merely nodded with a smile.
*
“Mama, I got into a Korean boyband,” Han Geng told the mirror.
But that wasn't the truth, he realized. Not the full one anyway.
He wouldn't just be a member, he would be a spy. And he would call Silver Tune Records and somebody would answer, “How may I help you?” and he'd tell them things to help them come up with flashier pop products.
A spy.
This wasn't the way he was supposed to climb the corporate ladder.
*
Hankyung doesn't exactly roll off his tongue, but neither do kumaiyoo, annyong haseyo or any of these other peculiar sounding expressions.
His boss has connections so he only needs to audition for show, but when he does, the casting team is impressed. He dances, and sings, and does all that he can and things work out for the best.
Hankyung - Han Geng - walks off the stage with a smile. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.
*
“Since we're adding two new members at this hour,” the manager says, arms crossed, “we thought we'd introduce you to the others together. It'll take a while 'til they get here, so just make yourselves comfortable.”
Comfortable. Han Geng looks at the other man (guy? boy?) sitting in the seat across the table from him, and the eyes look at him calmly, friendly. Taking him in, breaking him down. Or maybe it's Han Geng himself breaking down the other person, like an opponent. Thinking like a spy would. The thought makes him shudder.
“You don't speak much Korean yet, do you?” the other one asks in Chinese - accented but flowing quite naturally.
“You know Chinese?”
---
dfksdfhj see? I didn't get very far with it. For a good reason, too.
ANDY COMING OUT ZOMG: A fic where Andy is gay and comes out to Shinhwa members. Because sometimes I think about Andy and it's like, wow, no fuckin' way is he straight. (If he is, though, he should totally marry Solbi.)
---
He tells Eric first. He isn't sure why. Jung-hyuk hyung is always able to bear the news, no matter how dreadful. Hyung is strong.
Or so he's lead to believe, anyway. Hyung is stronger than he is, his hands shaking for years before every performance, his insecurities building up behind a cute smile, his breathing irregular whenever he phones them from the States during that ominous break. Eric could always steady a hand between his shoulder blades, smoothing out the fabric of his clothing calmingly, keep his cool even when the manager yelled at them and most of them cried, some more loudly than the others.
So he can tell hyung, because Eric has heard worse news than this.
He tells Eric first.
*
“Hyung, I'm gay.”
Eric looks at him, face blank, and then looks down, saying nothing.
Nothing at all.
*
Gay people exist in South-Korea, and they especially exist in show biz.
Only not really. Everybody has met one, or two, or knows three or is friends with a couple, but nobody can ever name any, and so the existence fades into the background like gay people were a mythical creature of the sea. When you look for a second time, all you see is a fish tail. Nothing out of ordinary, everything standard as it should be.
*
Hyung looks at him again and he's still there, and the sentence hangs between them and Andy is sure he's going to cry or yell or something, and then Eric just nods.
He isn't sure what it means but it's good enough.
*
Choongjae doesn't understand. Not really.
But, he keeps repeating, Andy-sshi has had girlfriends.
He shrugs. Not really.
Pilkyo tells him he's brave. Oh so brave.
Not really. He's not facing the world, and his family and manager already know. It's not as brave as it's just necessary.
*
Minwoo hugs him but not like he used to.
Dongwan mentions the Bible. Eric looks at him, a mix of warning and understanding, and Andy listens to them all talk, nodding his head in silence.
He feels like he's drifting away, distancing himself from them as to not make them feel awkward.
*
It works out like that for a while, until he's looking from the outside in and it rather hurts to be there.
---
..so there.
JIRO/JUNSU FIC OF D0000M: So .. I got this idea. Of like, Jiro. And Junsu. OMFG. In Japan. Because they have bff's who they love gayly and their bffs don't love them back and WOE and angst. I don't even know. But I do know that when I'm like IDEAAAAA and happiestwhen is like, wtf no, I should just give up on it. Really.
--
Junsu dials on his cell phone. The hotel room in Tokyo is dim, and if he was the type to drink, he would. The other members have a silent agreement to let him just be, Yoochun knocks on the door every now and then, and Junsu calls, “What is it?” and gets the reply, “Nothing, goodnight.”
Junsu is leaving a message to Hyukjae. Well, trying to.
“It's me.” followed by a minute of silence. He deletes it.
“I just wanted to tell you,” but what's he got to tell Hyukjae that he hasn't already said? Deleted.
“Maybe,” but maybe this, maybe that, maybe he should shut the hell up and actually go to bed like Yoochun keeps telling him.
“Whatever,” is the message he finally leaves Hyukjae, but he doesn't sound non-chalant as much as he sounds sad, desperate, worried, pained.
He needs to get out. Unfortunately out can only mean out of the hotel room, as there are fans outside the hotel, fans everywhere, and he doesn't want them to know. They care too much already; it touches him, but they shouldn't. If he can, he'll make them happy. If he can, he'll do everything to not make them unhappy.
*
The door clicks shut behind him and he walks to the elevator. It opens, he walks in, closes his eyes, hits a button, floor “whatever”, wherever, just please, the doors close and the elevator moves. The doors open again, there's a sound and when Junsu next opens his eyes, a pair is staring back at him.
The guy settles next to him, and Junsu shifts on his feet. He recognizes the other one instantly, but it's a bit weird to be telling somebody, “Oh, you're a popstar! Me too!” in an elevator space. Junsu tries to recall a name, thinks of Chinese characters, traditional - so Taiwanese, Wang something. Dong Cheng. Da Dong. Fei Lun Hai.
Jiro Wang.
The elevator moves a floor, moves another, silence and tension and Junsu knows Jiro knows that Junsu knows and Jiro must know, too, and there could be an introduction hidden somewhere in the circumstances and then...
The elevator stops. The light blinks, shuts off, goes back on. The elevator stays still. The screen says they're on floor 3635, which can't be right. Junsu goes press a button, nothing happens. Junsu presses another one.
A calm female voice in Japanese tells them, something about help, something about noodles, Junsu's Japanese skills could use some work really. Jiro looks even more confused.
“Help to come soon,” Junsu says in Mandarin, patchy but will do, and Jiro makes a comment, such Taiwanese slang Junsu can't quite figure out what it means.
Turns out “soon” in Japanese elevator repair terminology means “one hour or more, probably more”, as after forty minutes of sitting, waiting, there's no sign of help and Junsu is panicking a bit, thinking of air, thinking of running out of it. Luckily he notices there is ventilation, there's is AC, they're not going to die in a five star hotel.
“Xiah. Junsu.” Maybe this is the time for introductions.
“I know,” Jiro says, and Junsu says the same thing when Jiro introduces himself.
Maybe there was never a time for introductions.
*
“Why are you in Japan?” Junsu asks, hoping that he's getting all the tones right, listening to Jiro's Taiwanese tilted Mandarin is always a bit funny to his ears, so different from Mainland.
Jiro pulls out a card. It Started With a Kiss Pressmeet tomorrow at 3 PM.
“Very good,” Junsu says, though he's not sure what It Started With a Kiss actually is.
---
Yep.
KIBUM DESPAIRS WHILE SIWON AND DONGHAE HIT ON AMERICAN GIRLS WITH ASSHOLE SLOGAN T-SHIRTS: Inspired by ...Donghae and Siwon wearing asshole phrases on their t-shirts. This was going to be a vapid non-self-insert of this_is_cd meeting Donghae and it was going to end with KiHae (of course) and I DON'T KNOW.
--
Kim Kibum did not appreciate a great number of things. Engrish shirts, cigarette smoke and extremely drunken girls were just the tip of the iceberg of things he did not appreciate.
And yet here he was, sitting on a dirty barstool in some crowded, smoke-filled American bar, talking to a very drunken brunette. From the corner of his eye he could see Donghae talking (if random phrases and clumsily coordinated sign language count as “talking”) to somebody. His shirt said, “Wish you were here” and had a picture of a cat's behind.
Not so Engrish but definite misunderstanding there about the message the shirt is trying to send. He sighs a little and tunes back in to the ramblings of the girl in front of him.
--
DONGWAN HAS WINE PARTY - TRUFAX - CHANGMIN JOINS HIM - NOT-TRUFAX: Yep, inspired by a RL journal entry by Dongwan. I threw Changmin into the mix but for whatever reason, it never worked out. Here's what I got, though..
--
“A wine party?” Changmin asks out loud and regrets it the very next second, as he sees Yoochun's eye widen and his elbow nudging a sleepy Junsu on the back seat of their van. Yunho is occupied by Nintendo DS, and Jaejoong is sleeping next to Junsu.
“Yes,” Dongwan says and Changmin can practically hear his smile through the phone.
He hesitates but has to ask. “What's a wine party, hyung?”
“It's like a wine tasting, but without the needless procedure of spitting the wine into a bucket.” Dongwan sighs. “I just always thought it was a huge waste, you know? So, I guess that means you're coming?”
“Well, I guess, as we're in Seoul and with little schedules..” Changmin trails off, looking at his band mates. It's been a while since they last got plastered. It's been a very, very nice while.
“Actually, it's kind of a small restaurant..”
Changmin blushes. “Oh. Well, that's okay, I'm sure the others will be too busy to attend anyway.”
“Exactly,” Dongwan says, sounding a bit apologetic. “And you're a big boy now, right? No need for you to have a chaperone anymore.”
“Right,” Changmin says awkwardly. Dongwan lets him know where to be and when, and when he finishes the call, Yoochun is sitting next to him.
“Alcohol party?” Yoochun asks eagerly.
“No. I mean, you'll all be too busy that night to attend. Plus it's kind of private,” Changmin explains.
“So what you're saying is that we can't be there?” Yoochun asks, visibly disappointed.
“Yes,” Changmin says. “Sorry.”
“..because it's like you're going on a date!”
“No!”
“Junsu, wake up, Changmin has a date with Shinhwa hyung!”
Jaejoong stirs. “You what?”
“I don't!” Changmin exclaims. “It's a party, there'll be others.”
“Just you, Shinhwa hyung, and wine,” Yoochun says. “Sounds a bit suspicious, actually, maybe I should come as your chaperone.”
“I'm a big boy now, I don't need one,” Changmin says defensively. “There will be others.” He pauses. “It's not a date.”
“I'd rather date one of the H.O.T hyungs anyway,” Yoochun says pensively. “What about you, Junsu?”
“Kangta,” Junsu replies.
“Diplomatic,” Yoochun says. “Jaejoong?”
“I like girls,” Jaejoong answers, crossing his arms.
“Sky is blue, earth is round. But then it rains, sky is grey, just answer the question!”
“Lee Minwoo. Alternatively, Son Ho Young.”
Yoochun tries to get Yunho's attention but fails. He flops down next to Changmin again. “Well, I'm still jealous. Make sure you tell us all about it the next day, in full detail.”
“And don't puke on anybody,” Junsu says. “We don't need those headlines.” He looks at Jaejoong. “Again.”
Jaejoong pretends not to be listening.
“It's really too bad you guys can't come,” Changmin says, half-earnest, half-not-so.
Yoochun just grins at him. “We would never crash your date.”
“It's not a date,” Changmin argues faintly.
---
:) I actually really like this snippet. Too bad I just couldn't write the *actual* fic.
WOODONG FIC THAT REFUSES NOT TO BE SILLY SHINHWA ANGST: Uhhh. I've posted a bit of this before. Shinhwa fic. I no can does it. :(
Oh well.
--
Minwoo doesn't remember the beginning to what he doesn't dare call a relationship, so instead he calls it a series of incidents. In the end, he thinks, it's friendship that ties him to Dongwan, and everything else, well.
If there's a name for it, he doesn't want to say it.
*
He recalls the one time around first jib release, so young and confused and unsure why Dongwan kissing him (really kissing him) didn't feel as gross as it should've and why Dongwan's hand around his cock felt so much more incredible than his own. It was over in a flash, Dongwan sliding off him and awkwardly exiting the room. Minwoo sat on the sofa dazed as Eric and Junjin padded to the living-room in towels.
“The shower is ready,” Eric said.
Minwoo went, and let the water run until Hyesung's knocking on the door became loud enough to distract him from his thoughts.
“About fucking time,” Hyesung muttered when Minwoo unlocked the door.
He joined the others on the sofa, damp in a bath robe, and Dongwan put his arm casually around Minwoo's shoulders and grinned.
There was nothing weird about it, apart from everything.
*
Dongwan's problem during 4th jib (when the only real problem, the only problem altogether was that there was no Andy, because no matter how fine it was according to management, it completely wasn't) wasn't alcohol, it was how he used it.
Minwoo spooned him on his bed to make sure nothing drastic happened, and Hyesung checked on them occasionally, the door cracking open and closing soon after. Dongwan rarely got sick but the sheer state of him tonight had made them all worried.
It wasn't just the lack of Andy that put the strain on their entire existence as a group. It was old issues re-emerging, creating new ones, it was insecurities and a constant worry about what seemed a lack of future.
It was like their entire universe shook out of place and suddenly stood tilted, skewed, not quite right. It's not just to feed their legend that they later say in interviews, had Andy not come back there wouldn't be Shinhwa. It's an odd thought now, but Minwoo remembers how Eric's eyes would shift carefully over apartment ads when he was reading the paper, or how Junjin paused on the phone when his mother asked about the band's future. They weren't close to breaking up, but the signs had been there.
---
SEKRIT UNDERCOVER SHIHAN which makes kghdkfjgh no fucking sense. But the key idea was like, they're both undercover AGENTS. In a boyband. And they fuck and fall in love and OH THE TRAVESTY of being an undercover agent and fucking another undercover agent (for separate parties) and ..yeah, it was a good idea that just didn't turn out good. I began writing this when I was *REALLY* new with Suju.
--
He wasn't trained in martial arts and ballet so he could answer phones. And yet, here Han Geng was, time after time picking up the receiver and saying, “Silver Tune Records, how may I help you?”.
“You have to start from the bottom,” some relative had once told him. “Work your way up.”
And there he was, at the bottom, taking calls and writing memos, and his boss was fond of him, but not fond enough to give him a chance. For once, Han Geng hoped, he would be asked, “How may I help you?” so that he could finally answer, “Just let me do all that I can.”
He knew he could do so much more than this.
*
Judging from how important this mission had sounded on the telephone, how frantic and nervous his boss appeared to be right now, Siwon had assumed he'd be doing something enormously exciting and influential. Infiltrating a foreign government, at the least.
“Super Junior?” he asked, flipping through the case file. He didn't dare say, You've got to be fucking kidding me out loud to his boss' face so he merely raised an eye-brow to make his point.
“Yes,” Director Kim merely said.
“But it's a boyband,” Siwon groaned. “I thought this would be something of actual importance.”
His boss frowned. “If this band makes it, do you understand how much money they'll generate? Boybands have more power than some regional governments, for crying out loud, have you heard of Shinhwa?”
“So what exactly does our client want me to do?” Siwon asked, trying to appear patient. All his years of special agent training, and his first big gig would be to bring down a cheesy pop group. This wasn't happening.
“Join them, observe them, find their weaknesses and then, when our client wants you to--.”
“Super Junior goes kaboom, I get it. But join them? As in, their production theme, management, PR?”
“No, them. Become a member, sing, dance, appear on variety television. The whole works.” Director Kim was grinning lop-sidedly, mockery in his tone. Siwon had never had it easy under his wing, his talents constantly doubted (out of jealousy, he could only assume), but this one took the cake. His first solo mission and what did his task mostly comprise of? Dancing. Not that he couldn't do it (he knew he could), but..
“How does this serve the purpose of the mission? Wouldn't it be easier to give them PR death if I was just working in the background somewhere?”
Director Kim huffed irritably. Siwon just grinned. Not a man of logic, this one.
“Listen, I don't know. What our client wants, we do. End of story. My secretary's going to give you a rundown of the proceedings and there's a few people we bribed to help you out. We're sending you to SM training before this weekend. Don't disappoint us, Agent Choi, this is your big opportunity.” Director Kim got up. “Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a plane to catch.”
Siwon bowed and left the office silently, not caring how impolite he might've come across as. They had been telling him for three years, every time he received a task, “this could be it”, “your big chance”, “don't screw this one up”. And every time when he had excelled, they backtracked on their promises. “We'll see about it later”, “resources are tight at the moment”, “we have no need”, “you're good as you are”.
He was good as he was. In fact, he was excellent. And frustrated.
*
Han Geng's palms were sweating. He tried to get comfortable in the chair, but it seemed to be impossible, as no matter how he sat, his heart was beating in his throat and his hands shook a little. Finally his boss entered the office, and behind him a secretary, serving them tea.
Han Geng drank too quick, first burning his tongue and then choking, but his boss didn't even notice.
“How do you feel about a career opportunity abroad?” he was asked, straight-forward and unexpected and he coughed and apologized and coughed some more.
Then, with tears in his eyes from the coughing or out of appreciation, he listened to his boss explain everything. It seemed like he was listening to a foreign language.
“Super Junior?” he repeated.
His boss merely nodded with a smile.
*
“Mama, I got into a Korean boyband,” Han Geng told the mirror.
But that wasn't the truth, he realized. Not the full one anyway.
He wouldn't just be a member, he would be a spy. And he would call Silver Tune Records and somebody would answer, “How may I help you?” and he'd tell them things to help them come up with flashier pop products.
A spy.
This wasn't the way he was supposed to climb the corporate ladder.
*
Hankyung doesn't exactly roll off his tongue, but neither do kumaiyoo, annyong haseyo or any of these other peculiar sounding expressions.
His boss has connections so he only needs to audition for show, but when he does, the casting team is impressed. He dances, and sings, and does all that he can and things work out for the best.
Hankyung - Han Geng - walks off the stage with a smile. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.
*
“Since we're adding two new members at this hour,” the manager says, arms crossed, “we thought we'd introduce you to the others together. It'll take a while 'til they get here, so just make yourselves comfortable.”
Comfortable. Han Geng looks at the other man (guy? boy?) sitting in the seat across the table from him, and the eyes look at him calmly, friendly. Taking him in, breaking him down. Or maybe it's Han Geng himself breaking down the other person, like an opponent. Thinking like a spy would. The thought makes him shudder.
“You don't speak much Korean yet, do you?” the other one asks in Chinese - accented but flowing quite naturally.
“You know Chinese?”
---
dfksdfhj see? I didn't get very far with it. For a good reason, too.
ANDY COMING OUT ZOMG: A fic where Andy is gay and comes out to Shinhwa members. Because sometimes I think about Andy and it's like, wow, no fuckin' way is he straight. (If he is, though, he should totally marry Solbi.)
---
He tells Eric first. He isn't sure why. Jung-hyuk hyung is always able to bear the news, no matter how dreadful. Hyung is strong.
Or so he's lead to believe, anyway. Hyung is stronger than he is, his hands shaking for years before every performance, his insecurities building up behind a cute smile, his breathing irregular whenever he phones them from the States during that ominous break. Eric could always steady a hand between his shoulder blades, smoothing out the fabric of his clothing calmingly, keep his cool even when the manager yelled at them and most of them cried, some more loudly than the others.
So he can tell hyung, because Eric has heard worse news than this.
He tells Eric first.
*
“Hyung, I'm gay.”
Eric looks at him, face blank, and then looks down, saying nothing.
Nothing at all.
*
Gay people exist in South-Korea, and they especially exist in show biz.
Only not really. Everybody has met one, or two, or knows three or is friends with a couple, but nobody can ever name any, and so the existence fades into the background like gay people were a mythical creature of the sea. When you look for a second time, all you see is a fish tail. Nothing out of ordinary, everything standard as it should be.
*
Hyung looks at him again and he's still there, and the sentence hangs between them and Andy is sure he's going to cry or yell or something, and then Eric just nods.
He isn't sure what it means but it's good enough.
*
Choongjae doesn't understand. Not really.
But, he keeps repeating, Andy-sshi has had girlfriends.
He shrugs. Not really.
Pilkyo tells him he's brave. Oh so brave.
Not really. He's not facing the world, and his family and manager already know. It's not as brave as it's just necessary.
*
Minwoo hugs him but not like he used to.
Dongwan mentions the Bible. Eric looks at him, a mix of warning and understanding, and Andy listens to them all talk, nodding his head in silence.
He feels like he's drifting away, distancing himself from them as to not make them feel awkward.
*
It works out like that for a while, until he's looking from the outside in and it rather hurts to be there.
---
..so there.
JIRO/JUNSU FIC OF D0000M: So .. I got this idea. Of like, Jiro. And Junsu. OMFG. In Japan. Because they have bff's who they love gayly and their bffs don't love them back and WOE and angst. I don't even know. But I do know that when I'm like IDEAAAAA and happiestwhen is like, wtf no, I should just give up on it. Really.
--
Junsu dials on his cell phone. The hotel room in Tokyo is dim, and if he was the type to drink, he would. The other members have a silent agreement to let him just be, Yoochun knocks on the door every now and then, and Junsu calls, “What is it?” and gets the reply, “Nothing, goodnight.”
Junsu is leaving a message to Hyukjae. Well, trying to.
“It's me.” followed by a minute of silence. He deletes it.
“I just wanted to tell you,” but what's he got to tell Hyukjae that he hasn't already said? Deleted.
“Maybe,” but maybe this, maybe that, maybe he should shut the hell up and actually go to bed like Yoochun keeps telling him.
“Whatever,” is the message he finally leaves Hyukjae, but he doesn't sound non-chalant as much as he sounds sad, desperate, worried, pained.
He needs to get out. Unfortunately out can only mean out of the hotel room, as there are fans outside the hotel, fans everywhere, and he doesn't want them to know. They care too much already; it touches him, but they shouldn't. If he can, he'll make them happy. If he can, he'll do everything to not make them unhappy.
*
The door clicks shut behind him and he walks to the elevator. It opens, he walks in, closes his eyes, hits a button, floor “whatever”, wherever, just please, the doors close and the elevator moves. The doors open again, there's a sound and when Junsu next opens his eyes, a pair is staring back at him.
The guy settles next to him, and Junsu shifts on his feet. He recognizes the other one instantly, but it's a bit weird to be telling somebody, “Oh, you're a popstar! Me too!” in an elevator space. Junsu tries to recall a name, thinks of Chinese characters, traditional - so Taiwanese, Wang something. Dong Cheng. Da Dong. Fei Lun Hai.
Jiro Wang.
The elevator moves a floor, moves another, silence and tension and Junsu knows Jiro knows that Junsu knows and Jiro must know, too, and there could be an introduction hidden somewhere in the circumstances and then...
The elevator stops. The light blinks, shuts off, goes back on. The elevator stays still. The screen says they're on floor 3635, which can't be right. Junsu goes press a button, nothing happens. Junsu presses another one.
A calm female voice in Japanese tells them, something about help, something about noodles, Junsu's Japanese skills could use some work really. Jiro looks even more confused.
“Help to come soon,” Junsu says in Mandarin, patchy but will do, and Jiro makes a comment, such Taiwanese slang Junsu can't quite figure out what it means.
Turns out “soon” in Japanese elevator repair terminology means “one hour or more, probably more”, as after forty minutes of sitting, waiting, there's no sign of help and Junsu is panicking a bit, thinking of air, thinking of running out of it. Luckily he notices there is ventilation, there's is AC, they're not going to die in a five star hotel.
“Xiah. Junsu.” Maybe this is the time for introductions.
“I know,” Jiro says, and Junsu says the same thing when Jiro introduces himself.
Maybe there was never a time for introductions.
*
“Why are you in Japan?” Junsu asks, hoping that he's getting all the tones right, listening to Jiro's Taiwanese tilted Mandarin is always a bit funny to his ears, so different from Mainland.
Jiro pulls out a card. It Started With a Kiss Pressmeet tomorrow at 3 PM.
“Very good,” Junsu says, though he's not sure what It Started With a Kiss actually is.
---
Yep.
KIBUM DESPAIRS WHILE SIWON AND DONGHAE HIT ON AMERICAN GIRLS WITH ASSHOLE SLOGAN T-SHIRTS: Inspired by ...Donghae and Siwon wearing asshole phrases on their t-shirts. This was going to be a vapid non-self-insert of this_is_cd meeting Donghae and it was going to end with KiHae (of course) and I DON'T KNOW.
--
Kim Kibum did not appreciate a great number of things. Engrish shirts, cigarette smoke and extremely drunken girls were just the tip of the iceberg of things he did not appreciate.
And yet here he was, sitting on a dirty barstool in some crowded, smoke-filled American bar, talking to a very drunken brunette. From the corner of his eye he could see Donghae talking (if random phrases and clumsily coordinated sign language count as “talking”) to somebody. His shirt said, “Wish you were here” and had a picture of a cat's behind.
Not so Engrish but definite misunderstanding there about the message the shirt is trying to send. He sighs a little and tunes back in to the ramblings of the girl in front of him.
--
DONGWAN HAS WINE PARTY - TRUFAX - CHANGMIN JOINS HIM - NOT-TRUFAX: Yep, inspired by a RL journal entry by Dongwan. I threw Changmin into the mix but for whatever reason, it never worked out. Here's what I got, though..
--
“A wine party?” Changmin asks out loud and regrets it the very next second, as he sees Yoochun's eye widen and his elbow nudging a sleepy Junsu on the back seat of their van. Yunho is occupied by Nintendo DS, and Jaejoong is sleeping next to Junsu.
“Yes,” Dongwan says and Changmin can practically hear his smile through the phone.
He hesitates but has to ask. “What's a wine party, hyung?”
“It's like a wine tasting, but without the needless procedure of spitting the wine into a bucket.” Dongwan sighs. “I just always thought it was a huge waste, you know? So, I guess that means you're coming?”
“Well, I guess, as we're in Seoul and with little schedules..” Changmin trails off, looking at his band mates. It's been a while since they last got plastered. It's been a very, very nice while.
“Actually, it's kind of a small restaurant..”
Changmin blushes. “Oh. Well, that's okay, I'm sure the others will be too busy to attend anyway.”
“Exactly,” Dongwan says, sounding a bit apologetic. “And you're a big boy now, right? No need for you to have a chaperone anymore.”
“Right,” Changmin says awkwardly. Dongwan lets him know where to be and when, and when he finishes the call, Yoochun is sitting next to him.
“Alcohol party?” Yoochun asks eagerly.
“No. I mean, you'll all be too busy that night to attend. Plus it's kind of private,” Changmin explains.
“So what you're saying is that we can't be there?” Yoochun asks, visibly disappointed.
“Yes,” Changmin says. “Sorry.”
“..because it's like you're going on a date!”
“No!”
“Junsu, wake up, Changmin has a date with Shinhwa hyung!”
Jaejoong stirs. “You what?”
“I don't!” Changmin exclaims. “It's a party, there'll be others.”
“Just you, Shinhwa hyung, and wine,” Yoochun says. “Sounds a bit suspicious, actually, maybe I should come as your chaperone.”
“I'm a big boy now, I don't need one,” Changmin says defensively. “There will be others.” He pauses. “It's not a date.”
“I'd rather date one of the H.O.T hyungs anyway,” Yoochun says pensively. “What about you, Junsu?”
“Kangta,” Junsu replies.
“Diplomatic,” Yoochun says. “Jaejoong?”
“I like girls,” Jaejoong answers, crossing his arms.
“Sky is blue, earth is round. But then it rains, sky is grey, just answer the question!”
“Lee Minwoo. Alternatively, Son Ho Young.”
Yoochun tries to get Yunho's attention but fails. He flops down next to Changmin again. “Well, I'm still jealous. Make sure you tell us all about it the next day, in full detail.”
“And don't puke on anybody,” Junsu says. “We don't need those headlines.” He looks at Jaejoong. “Again.”
Jaejoong pretends not to be listening.
“It's really too bad you guys can't come,” Changmin says, half-earnest, half-not-so.
Yoochun just grins at him. “We would never crash your date.”
“It's not a date,” Changmin argues faintly.
---
:) I actually really like this snippet. Too bad I just couldn't write the *actual* fic.
WOODONG FIC THAT REFUSES NOT TO BE SILLY SHINHWA ANGST: Uhhh. I've posted a bit of this before. Shinhwa fic. I no can does it. :(
Oh well.
--
Minwoo doesn't remember the beginning to what he doesn't dare call a relationship, so instead he calls it a series of incidents. In the end, he thinks, it's friendship that ties him to Dongwan, and everything else, well.
If there's a name for it, he doesn't want to say it.
*
He recalls the one time around first jib release, so young and confused and unsure why Dongwan kissing him (really kissing him) didn't feel as gross as it should've and why Dongwan's hand around his cock felt so much more incredible than his own. It was over in a flash, Dongwan sliding off him and awkwardly exiting the room. Minwoo sat on the sofa dazed as Eric and Junjin padded to the living-room in towels.
“The shower is ready,” Eric said.
Minwoo went, and let the water run until Hyesung's knocking on the door became loud enough to distract him from his thoughts.
“About fucking time,” Hyesung muttered when Minwoo unlocked the door.
He joined the others on the sofa, damp in a bath robe, and Dongwan put his arm casually around Minwoo's shoulders and grinned.
There was nothing weird about it, apart from everything.
*
Dongwan's problem during 4th jib (when the only real problem, the only problem altogether was that there was no Andy, because no matter how fine it was according to management, it completely wasn't) wasn't alcohol, it was how he used it.
Minwoo spooned him on his bed to make sure nothing drastic happened, and Hyesung checked on them occasionally, the door cracking open and closing soon after. Dongwan rarely got sick but the sheer state of him tonight had made them all worried.
It wasn't just the lack of Andy that put the strain on their entire existence as a group. It was old issues re-emerging, creating new ones, it was insecurities and a constant worry about what seemed a lack of future.
It was like their entire universe shook out of place and suddenly stood tilted, skewed, not quite right. It's not just to feed their legend that they later say in interviews, had Andy not come back there wouldn't be Shinhwa. It's an odd thought now, but Minwoo remembers how Eric's eyes would shift carefully over apartment ads when he was reading the paper, or how Junjin paused on the phone when his mother asked about the band's future. They weren't close to breaking up, but the signs had been there.
---