rabenhorst (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rabenhorst) wrote2011-01-10 04:51 pm
rabenhorst) wrote2011-01-10 04:51 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Title: Come Home
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fonulyn
Rating: PG (it’s safe. all I ever write is fluff XD)
Pairing: Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Kyuhyun hates goodbyes, even temporary ones. He hates them with a burning passion. Especially when he knows that he will miss Zhou Mi more than he is willing to admit.
Comments:
Oh-kays. My first fic ever in this fandom! You can’t believe how nervous I am and I hope I didn’t completely butcher the characters. I’ve been reading everything I got my hands on of them, and it was only a matter of time before I got to the writing part, too. In addition to being new to writing the pair (and the fandom), I don’t usually write in present tense so this is kind of experimental because of that, too.
Also, huge thanks tolark, who gave me a prompt and gave me the final needed push to actually write something! If you wish, you can always bug me and prompt me to write something here :) No guarantees though *laughs*
... I’m still nervous ;___; Be nice?
A few years back, Kyuhyun hadn’t even thought his life could come to this. He had never considered it a possibility. But then, this whirlwind of happy had waltzed into his life, all long gangly limbs and bright smiles and neverending positive attitude.
Nothing had been the same ever since.
Kyuhyun hates goodbyes. He hates them with a burning passion. There is nothing in this world he hates more than letting go of someone he’d rather keep close to him and not knowing when he’ll see them again. One could think it gets easier with time, and he has been away from his family so much that he’s at least had tons of practice. He even thought that he had grown better at it.
Then all it takes is one short sentence and all the hard work he’s done runs down the drain.
“I’ll be going back to China.” Back to China? To China, for an indefinite amount of time. without him. Without him. Kyuhyun’s head snaps up at the realization and as hard as he tries, he knows he can’t cover the surprise in his eyes as he looks at the other man. He doesn’t ask, but he doesn’t need to, either. Zhou Mi can read the questions in his eyes – or maybe he can already read his mind, too, that wouldn’t surprise Kyuhyun all that much – and he goes on before a single one of them can be voiced.
“I told you I’d be shooting a series about experiences in a different culture and now it’s the time. We’re put on hold anyway, there is a break in activities and it doesn’t exactly make any sense for me to hang out here doing nothing.” Zhou Mi speaks softly, and they both know there is nothing but truth in his words. Here, he has nothing to do. Here, he will just get bored while everyone else is working. Here, he has too much time to think.
Kyuhyun doesn’t say anything. He averts his gaze down, looks at his hands and tries hard not to fidget. It’s not like this is the first time the other man goes away and takes his wide smile and endless legs back to his homeland. Then why does it feel so goddamn hard now? He doesn’t quite realize how long he’s been silent before he feels a weight right next to him on the mattress, a warm palm on his thigh as Zhou Mi sits down right next to him.
”I’ll be back, you know.”
“Right.” But no one knows when. At this rate, we could both be eighty by then. Inwardly he has to snort at the image of an eighty-year-old Zhou Mi with skinny long legs and still doing the ridiculously seductive Miss Chic (or something, he only knows the song title has the word “MISS” in it and that is so typical) dance just to drive him insane.
“And you will write to me.” That isn’t a question, it is a command. A command masked in happy, cheery tone so that it doesn’t even feel like an obligation to follow it. Somehow Zhou Mi can make everyone feel like he is doing them a favour by allowing them to follow his orders. Or maybe it isn’t everyone and it was just Kyuhyun, but that thought dies a quick and merciful death as soon as it appears.
“C’mon, for someone who spends as much time online as you it shouldn’t be that hard to drop me a line or two via email, right?” Suddenly Zhou Mi’s voice is right by his ear and there is a pair of ridiculously long arms wrapped around him and squeezing him close.
“Right.” This time, Kyuhyun can’t hold back the grin that tugs his lips and he leans in, resting his head on the other man’s shoulder. For a second it is silent, before he speaks up again. “But don’t expect me to turn into a girl and write you a friggin’ novel.”
Zhou Mi laughs and Kyuhyun could swear his heart just skipped a beat. “You could write me a real letter, too. You know, paper and pen and actual handwriting. Maybe even letter paper with a pattern on it! A perfumed letter, with – ”
“Zhou Mi.”
“Never hurts to try, eh?”
They laugh. And they both know that Kyuhyun will write Zhou Mi a letter once. A real letter in actual handwriting, maybe even on a paper with a pattern. But no perfumes, there is a limit to everything.
Emails are so much easier to write, Kyuhyun thinks. He doesn’t need to think of them so much, and he doesn’t need to go through the trouble of finding paper, writing the letter and sneaking it into the mailbox without anyone seeing it. So he settles for emails at first.
Zhou Mi writes almost daily. His messages are full of nonsense babbling, full of silly emoticons and observations on how his day has been. He might write a whole paragraph on what he decided to wear that day and why, and although it makes Kyuhyun roll his eyes he still smiles as he reads every word. Sometimes the messages are shorter, tired, but they are always followed by even longer emails the following day, almost as an apology. Always, the messages end with “I wish you were here!” or “I miss you!” with a clingy emoticon attached.
Kyuhyun doesn’t write often. He doesn’t write long messages, either. Usually it’s something along the lines of “today was boring, only someone like you could’ve possibly found something good about it” (he intends it to be snarky but he supposes it comes off just sentimental… and he hits send anyway) or “same old, boring” or “write you later, too much baddies to be killed”.
No matter what he writes, he actually means to say I miss you, come back to me.
“What are you up to?”
The question startles Kyuhyun and instinctively he yanks the earplug out, looking up to whoever it is to come surprise him like that. Ryeowook looks down at him, smiling that soft smile of his and it almost looks like there is a hint of concern in it. “You’ve been sitting there for two hours now. Everyone else got something to eat, too. Want me to get you a sandwich at least?”
”No, thank you. I’m not hungry. I just wanna finish watching this drama,” Kyuhyun waves it off, and aims for a casual tone. He is a terrible actor, but it seems to work, at least if he ignores the slightly sceptical look Ryeowook throws his way. Any other time he might’ve been secretly touched by the concern but right now… right now he has too much to think of.
“Alright. Well, enjoy your drama,” Ryeowook smiles and even reaches out to pat his shoulder, before sauntering off to leave Kyuhyun in peace again. With a sigh, he sinks into the cushions of the couch, pulling the laptop closer to balance it on his knees.
In reality, he is watching this stupid Chinese show he can barely understand bits and pieces of, watching how Zhou Mi flails stupidly and looks like he’s overly excited about the stupid story the stupid woman next to him is telling (and probably he is, overly excited, always happy about the stupidest of things), pretending that he isn’t stupid enough to watch it for the nth time within the same two hour gap in recording.
Most of all Kyuhyun feels stupid since for some reason he feels like crying. Crying like a five-year-old, and he probably was that young when he last cried for real.
He doesn’t cry. But when it is time to do some actual work again, he has to swallow hard several times and he prays that his voice won’t break.
Somehow Kyuhyun has to think about all those stupid, clichéd romance movies his sister forced him to watch when they were younger. In those, the romantic lead always described longing and missing someone like it was needles going through you, or a fist squeezing your heart. Granted, he hasn’t gone for anything that dramatic yet. But then again, he has never missed anyone like this either. He tries to ignore it, and most of all he tries to cover it, but he knows his friends are beginning to notice something is amiss.
His solution is to spend more time alone. It’s no surprise, either, since he often likes to spend quality time alone with his computer and he doesn’t need to even make up any stupid excuses when he retreats to his room. More often than not, he finds himself just lying on the bed, the laptop in front of him but untouched for so long that the screensaver is already running.
He thinks. And he dwells in self-pity but that he wouldn’t admit to anyone. He keeps on staring into nothingness, scanning all the items in the room from the furniture to the books and papers and games lying haphazardly everywhere. Somehow it’s so silent. Like something is missing.
Again his eyes drift towards the book lying on the bedside table, the same book Zhou Mi left there on the day he travelled back to China (“You could use some literary influences, Kui Xian, I’m only doing you a favour!”). It’s been two months since then. Two months of not seeing each other and it feels like a lifetime. Idiot, Kyuhyun snorts at himself inwardly, you’re turning yourself into a sappy, pathetic person.
Still he doesn’t know what possesses him to reach out for that book. He doesn’t really intend to read it, he just wants to run his fingers over the yellowed pages (curse that Chinese beanpole for his liking to old books) and maybe get a bit more into his melancholy mood. Except that he’s of course not melancholy, no-ho. Especially if someone asks.
Then he finds something.
The note is stuck to the back of the book and he can’t believe he didn’t find it before. It only takes one glance to recognize the handwriting and briefly Kyuhyun wonders how it is possible for someone’s handwriting to be like sunshine and rainbows.
When you find this, think of me :) Don’t worry, it won’t change you into a girl. Write me.
That is a command, not a request, and Kyuhyun can’t help but to grin at that, the stubborn smile tugging his lips whether he wants it or not. Carefully he peels the note off the book, knowing he’ll save it forever (even if it means that if one of his friends finds it they will never let him live it down).
And there, beneath the note is another one. Written in the same handwriting that is easy to recognize.
PS. I never told you, but I was falling in love.
Love?
Kyuhyun doesn’t realize he’s been sitting there frozen, staring at the note, until someone calls his name and tells him to get moving or they’ll be late. Late for what, he doesn’t even remember.
Kyuhyun has never felt this gay in his life. Still, he goes to the shop with his head held high (figuratively speaking, while in reality he is hiding behind massive sunglasses and a baseball cap) and buys a pink, glittery Hello Kitty card. Since he knows a certain someone who always appreciates pink and glittery of all things.
He only writes two words on the card. He doesn’t even sign it since he knows. He knows that although his handwriting isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, it is very well recognizable anyway.
Two words. That is all he wants to say. All he needs to say.
Come home.
Usually it’s not easy to wake Kyuhyun up and this time is no exception. Only somewhere in between dreaming of random videogames and of embarrassing himself on stage in front of everyone by forgetting to wear pants (not a nice dream) he realizes something is different. When he tries to roll around, there is something to block his movement. He grumbles, automatically elbowing the lump in his way in an attempt to smooth it down or get rid of it.
“Ouch!”
That now drags Kyuhyun to the next stage of waking up. A pillow or a pile or clothing doesn’t usually yelp ‘ouch’ when you elbow it. The next thing he realizes is that the lump behind him is actually breathing. There is a hot breath hitting his neck, and that can definitely not be any form of lifeless accessories.
For a second he considers screaming, but there is something so familiar in the presence that in the end he decides to crack one eye open and tilt his head to sneak a peek.
Only to come face to face with a brilliant smile and deeply sparkling eyes. Only the fact that he missed that face so much keeps him from punching his fist straight into that display of pure happiness. “Hangeng told me you’d be sleeping and that you’d kill anyone who disturbed you.” Zhou Mi explains happily, and even his voice has this sing-song tone to it that sounds so unbearably cheery.
Kyuhyun groans, rolling his eyes. He generously ignores the fact that he’s grinning and that gives away what he really thinks, anyway. “Then why are you here?” He asks, his voice rough from sleep and from the lack of use. Maybe he imagines it, but it seems to him something flashes in Zhou Mi’s eyes at that.
“Because even though you are the math genius here, even I can count one plus one.” Zhou Mi begins slowly, and it only takes a silent ‘hmm?’ from Kyuhyun to prompt him to go on with the explanation. “Kyuhyun and sleeping means warm sheets and blankets for me, too!”
Undeniable logic. Kyuhyun only quirks an eyebrow and when he receives a bright, sunny smile in turn, he doesn’t comment on it at all. Instead he cringes when long, icy fingers sneak underneath his shirt and the taller man snuggles even closer, somehow underneath his blanket by now although he has no idea how that happened. The whole scenario is even perfected by a cold nose pressed against the back of his neck, making him shiver.
“Your fingers are cold.” He just has to gripe about something. It doesn’t seem to do any good though, the answer is still chirpy and happy.
“Wait until I show you how cold my toes are!”
---
Feel free to add our journal if you like the stories!
Plus, the archive. (though right now it’s almost exclusively Dir en grey fiction and this one feeble attempt XD)
Author:
fonulynRating: PG (it’s safe. all I ever write is fluff XD)
Pairing: Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Kyuhyun hates goodbyes, even temporary ones. He hates them with a burning passion. Especially when he knows that he will miss Zhou Mi more than he is willing to admit.
Comments:
Oh-kays. My first fic ever in this fandom! You can’t believe how nervous I am and I hope I didn’t completely butcher the characters. I’ve been reading everything I got my hands on of them, and it was only a matter of time before I got to the writing part, too. In addition to being new to writing the pair (and the fandom), I don’t usually write in present tense so this is kind of experimental because of that, too.
Also, huge thanks to
lark, who gave me a prompt and gave me the final needed push to actually write something! If you wish, you can always bug me and prompt me to write something here :) No guarantees though *laughs*
... I’m still nervous ;___; Be nice?
A few years back, Kyuhyun hadn’t even thought his life could come to this. He had never considered it a possibility. But then, this whirlwind of happy had waltzed into his life, all long gangly limbs and bright smiles and neverending positive attitude.
Nothing had been the same ever since.
Kyuhyun hates goodbyes. He hates them with a burning passion. There is nothing in this world he hates more than letting go of someone he’d rather keep close to him and not knowing when he’ll see them again. One could think it gets easier with time, and he has been away from his family so much that he’s at least had tons of practice. He even thought that he had grown better at it.
Then all it takes is one short sentence and all the hard work he’s done runs down the drain.
“I’ll be going back to China.” Back to China? To China, for an indefinite amount of time. without him. Without him. Kyuhyun’s head snaps up at the realization and as hard as he tries, he knows he can’t cover the surprise in his eyes as he looks at the other man. He doesn’t ask, but he doesn’t need to, either. Zhou Mi can read the questions in his eyes – or maybe he can already read his mind, too, that wouldn’t surprise Kyuhyun all that much – and he goes on before a single one of them can be voiced.
“I told you I’d be shooting a series about experiences in a different culture and now it’s the time. We’re put on hold anyway, there is a break in activities and it doesn’t exactly make any sense for me to hang out here doing nothing.” Zhou Mi speaks softly, and they both know there is nothing but truth in his words. Here, he has nothing to do. Here, he will just get bored while everyone else is working. Here, he has too much time to think.
Kyuhyun doesn’t say anything. He averts his gaze down, looks at his hands and tries hard not to fidget. It’s not like this is the first time the other man goes away and takes his wide smile and endless legs back to his homeland. Then why does it feel so goddamn hard now? He doesn’t quite realize how long he’s been silent before he feels a weight right next to him on the mattress, a warm palm on his thigh as Zhou Mi sits down right next to him.
”I’ll be back, you know.”
“Right.” But no one knows when. At this rate, we could both be eighty by then. Inwardly he has to snort at the image of an eighty-year-old Zhou Mi with skinny long legs and still doing the ridiculously seductive Miss Chic (or something, he only knows the song title has the word “MISS” in it and that is so typical) dance just to drive him insane.
“And you will write to me.” That isn’t a question, it is a command. A command masked in happy, cheery tone so that it doesn’t even feel like an obligation to follow it. Somehow Zhou Mi can make everyone feel like he is doing them a favour by allowing them to follow his orders. Or maybe it isn’t everyone and it was just Kyuhyun, but that thought dies a quick and merciful death as soon as it appears.
“C’mon, for someone who spends as much time online as you it shouldn’t be that hard to drop me a line or two via email, right?” Suddenly Zhou Mi’s voice is right by his ear and there is a pair of ridiculously long arms wrapped around him and squeezing him close.
“Right.” This time, Kyuhyun can’t hold back the grin that tugs his lips and he leans in, resting his head on the other man’s shoulder. For a second it is silent, before he speaks up again. “But don’t expect me to turn into a girl and write you a friggin’ novel.”
Zhou Mi laughs and Kyuhyun could swear his heart just skipped a beat. “You could write me a real letter, too. You know, paper and pen and actual handwriting. Maybe even letter paper with a pattern on it! A perfumed letter, with – ”
“Zhou Mi.”
“Never hurts to try, eh?”
They laugh. And they both know that Kyuhyun will write Zhou Mi a letter once. A real letter in actual handwriting, maybe even on a paper with a pattern. But no perfumes, there is a limit to everything.
Emails are so much easier to write, Kyuhyun thinks. He doesn’t need to think of them so much, and he doesn’t need to go through the trouble of finding paper, writing the letter and sneaking it into the mailbox without anyone seeing it. So he settles for emails at first.
Zhou Mi writes almost daily. His messages are full of nonsense babbling, full of silly emoticons and observations on how his day has been. He might write a whole paragraph on what he decided to wear that day and why, and although it makes Kyuhyun roll his eyes he still smiles as he reads every word. Sometimes the messages are shorter, tired, but they are always followed by even longer emails the following day, almost as an apology. Always, the messages end with “I wish you were here!” or “I miss you!” with a clingy emoticon attached.
Kyuhyun doesn’t write often. He doesn’t write long messages, either. Usually it’s something along the lines of “today was boring, only someone like you could’ve possibly found something good about it” (he intends it to be snarky but he supposes it comes off just sentimental… and he hits send anyway) or “same old, boring” or “write you later, too much baddies to be killed”.
No matter what he writes, he actually means to say I miss you, come back to me.
“What are you up to?”
The question startles Kyuhyun and instinctively he yanks the earplug out, looking up to whoever it is to come surprise him like that. Ryeowook looks down at him, smiling that soft smile of his and it almost looks like there is a hint of concern in it. “You’ve been sitting there for two hours now. Everyone else got something to eat, too. Want me to get you a sandwich at least?”
”No, thank you. I’m not hungry. I just wanna finish watching this drama,” Kyuhyun waves it off, and aims for a casual tone. He is a terrible actor, but it seems to work, at least if he ignores the slightly sceptical look Ryeowook throws his way. Any other time he might’ve been secretly touched by the concern but right now… right now he has too much to think of.
“Alright. Well, enjoy your drama,” Ryeowook smiles and even reaches out to pat his shoulder, before sauntering off to leave Kyuhyun in peace again. With a sigh, he sinks into the cushions of the couch, pulling the laptop closer to balance it on his knees.
In reality, he is watching this stupid Chinese show he can barely understand bits and pieces of, watching how Zhou Mi flails stupidly and looks like he’s overly excited about the stupid story the stupid woman next to him is telling (and probably he is, overly excited, always happy about the stupidest of things), pretending that he isn’t stupid enough to watch it for the nth time within the same two hour gap in recording.
Most of all Kyuhyun feels stupid since for some reason he feels like crying. Crying like a five-year-old, and he probably was that young when he last cried for real.
He doesn’t cry. But when it is time to do some actual work again, he has to swallow hard several times and he prays that his voice won’t break.
Somehow Kyuhyun has to think about all those stupid, clichéd romance movies his sister forced him to watch when they were younger. In those, the romantic lead always described longing and missing someone like it was needles going through you, or a fist squeezing your heart. Granted, he hasn’t gone for anything that dramatic yet. But then again, he has never missed anyone like this either. He tries to ignore it, and most of all he tries to cover it, but he knows his friends are beginning to notice something is amiss.
His solution is to spend more time alone. It’s no surprise, either, since he often likes to spend quality time alone with his computer and he doesn’t need to even make up any stupid excuses when he retreats to his room. More often than not, he finds himself just lying on the bed, the laptop in front of him but untouched for so long that the screensaver is already running.
He thinks. And he dwells in self-pity but that he wouldn’t admit to anyone. He keeps on staring into nothingness, scanning all the items in the room from the furniture to the books and papers and games lying haphazardly everywhere. Somehow it’s so silent. Like something is missing.
Again his eyes drift towards the book lying on the bedside table, the same book Zhou Mi left there on the day he travelled back to China (“You could use some literary influences, Kui Xian, I’m only doing you a favour!”). It’s been two months since then. Two months of not seeing each other and it feels like a lifetime. Idiot, Kyuhyun snorts at himself inwardly, you’re turning yourself into a sappy, pathetic person.
Still he doesn’t know what possesses him to reach out for that book. He doesn’t really intend to read it, he just wants to run his fingers over the yellowed pages (curse that Chinese beanpole for his liking to old books) and maybe get a bit more into his melancholy mood. Except that he’s of course not melancholy, no-ho. Especially if someone asks.
Then he finds something.
The note is stuck to the back of the book and he can’t believe he didn’t find it before. It only takes one glance to recognize the handwriting and briefly Kyuhyun wonders how it is possible for someone’s handwriting to be like sunshine and rainbows.
When you find this, think of me :) Don’t worry, it won’t change you into a girl. Write me.
That is a command, not a request, and Kyuhyun can’t help but to grin at that, the stubborn smile tugging his lips whether he wants it or not. Carefully he peels the note off the book, knowing he’ll save it forever (even if it means that if one of his friends finds it they will never let him live it down).
And there, beneath the note is another one. Written in the same handwriting that is easy to recognize.
PS. I never told you, but I was falling in love.
Love?
Kyuhyun doesn’t realize he’s been sitting there frozen, staring at the note, until someone calls his name and tells him to get moving or they’ll be late. Late for what, he doesn’t even remember.
Kyuhyun has never felt this gay in his life. Still, he goes to the shop with his head held high (figuratively speaking, while in reality he is hiding behind massive sunglasses and a baseball cap) and buys a pink, glittery Hello Kitty card. Since he knows a certain someone who always appreciates pink and glittery of all things.
He only writes two words on the card. He doesn’t even sign it since he knows. He knows that although his handwriting isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, it is very well recognizable anyway.
Two words. That is all he wants to say. All he needs to say.
Come home.
Usually it’s not easy to wake Kyuhyun up and this time is no exception. Only somewhere in between dreaming of random videogames and of embarrassing himself on stage in front of everyone by forgetting to wear pants (not a nice dream) he realizes something is different. When he tries to roll around, there is something to block his movement. He grumbles, automatically elbowing the lump in his way in an attempt to smooth it down or get rid of it.
“Ouch!”
That now drags Kyuhyun to the next stage of waking up. A pillow or a pile or clothing doesn’t usually yelp ‘ouch’ when you elbow it. The next thing he realizes is that the lump behind him is actually breathing. There is a hot breath hitting his neck, and that can definitely not be any form of lifeless accessories.
For a second he considers screaming, but there is something so familiar in the presence that in the end he decides to crack one eye open and tilt his head to sneak a peek.
Only to come face to face with a brilliant smile and deeply sparkling eyes. Only the fact that he missed that face so much keeps him from punching his fist straight into that display of pure happiness. “Hangeng told me you’d be sleeping and that you’d kill anyone who disturbed you.” Zhou Mi explains happily, and even his voice has this sing-song tone to it that sounds so unbearably cheery.
Kyuhyun groans, rolling his eyes. He generously ignores the fact that he’s grinning and that gives away what he really thinks, anyway. “Then why are you here?” He asks, his voice rough from sleep and from the lack of use. Maybe he imagines it, but it seems to him something flashes in Zhou Mi’s eyes at that.
“Because even though you are the math genius here, even I can count one plus one.” Zhou Mi begins slowly, and it only takes a silent ‘hmm?’ from Kyuhyun to prompt him to go on with the explanation. “Kyuhyun and sleeping means warm sheets and blankets for me, too!”
Undeniable logic. Kyuhyun only quirks an eyebrow and when he receives a bright, sunny smile in turn, he doesn’t comment on it at all. Instead he cringes when long, icy fingers sneak underneath his shirt and the taller man snuggles even closer, somehow underneath his blanket by now although he has no idea how that happened. The whole scenario is even perfected by a cold nose pressed against the back of his neck, making him shiver.
“Your fingers are cold.” He just has to gripe about something. It doesn’t seem to do any good though, the answer is still chirpy and happy.
“Wait until I show you how cold my toes are!”
---
Feel free to add our journal if you like the stories!
Plus, the archive. (though right now it’s almost exclusively Dir en grey fiction and this one feeble attempt XD)