rabenhorst (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rabenhorst) wrote2011-10-04 08:50 pm
rabenhorst) wrote2011-10-04 08:50 pm
[fic] Han Geng/Zhou Mi – SJM – Warm – Oneshot
Title: Warm
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fonulyn
Rating: PG
Pairing: Han Geng/Zhou Mi (plus Heechul, how does he do this)
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Sleep is totally overrated.
Comments: So hojaverde spammed Gengmi on her tumblr and I love her for it and in return I wanted to give her a little something~ This is very short but... kind of sweet? 8D Enjoyy~
It’s dark when Han Geng startles awake. His heart is beating a little faster than usual due to the dreams he had, and he tries to shake the feeling the best he can. He doesn’t even remember what happened in the dreams but there is this vague feeling of discomfort that he wants to get rid of. Naturally, he rolls over and reaches to the side, but where his hand should have met the warm body of another person he meets only air and crumpled sheets.
That makes Han Geng frown. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes he looks up to the digital numbers of the clock and finds 03:30 staring right back at him. Oh swell.
It’s too late to go back to sleep anyway, he knows that and thus struggles to untangle his legs from the blanket. The sheets rustle as he shifts on the mattress, cool air hitting bare skin as soon as he straightens. He kind of wants to curl back into the covers but he decides against it and steps out of bed anyway. The floor is cold underneath his bare feet and instinctively he wraps his arms around himself when his skin gets goose bumps. Apparently it is already too cold to be dressed in a thin t-shirt and pyjama bottoms.
The curtains in the living room are pulled wide open and the door to the balcony is ajar. The cool breeze blows inside through the gap and for a moment, Han Geng thinks he should really go find a pair of warm socks for himself. He doesn’t, though, doesn’t turn around. The door creaks slightly as he slips outside, into the moist night air illuminated by the pale moonlight and the shining neon lights of the city below.
Zhou Mi is sitting in one of the foldable chairs, his knees pulled up to his chest. Somehow he looks even more thin than usual, his arms wrapped around his legs as he leans his chin on them. He’s not wearing anything more than a simple t-shirt either, and the heavy weight of worry shifts in Han Geng’s stomach. The feeling lifts, evaporates into the air, as Zhou Mi turns his head and smiles at him, a smile that reaches up to his eyes. “I couldn’t sleep,” Zhou Mi whispers as if louder speech would break something.
“Aren’t you freezing?” Han Geng asks softly, instinctively lowering his voice as well. Without waiting for an answer he reaches for the blanket that is folded on one of the chairs and he knows it’s cold as well. He also knows that it’ll warm up soon enough and then serve its purpose. Not waiting for an answer he sits down carefully, on the chair right next to Zhou Mi’s.
Their shoulders brush and Han Geng feels how the younger man leans in, against him. Carefully he wraps the blanket around them both, pulling his feet up as well to shelter them from the cold. As predicted, the blanket is useless at first but it’s noticeable how that changes. Han Geng is still warm, and the warmth seeps from him to their little shelter. They sit curled up close, right next to one another, their feet tucked close to make sure they keep the cold away the best they can.
“I had a nightmare,” Han Geng admits after a second, his voice barely audible. Zhou Mi shifts, as if his physical closeness can already bring comfort. In a way it does. He rests his head on Han Geng’s shoulder, gets as comfortable as he can. “Want to talk about it?” He sounds genuinely interested, even a little worried.
Han Geng takes a moment to think. He turns his head and presses his nose into the other man’s dark hair, inhales the scent of the peach-passion shampoo. It makes him smile. “No. Not really.” He sneaks an arm around Zhou Mi’s lithe frame, content when he feels him relax completely against him.
It doesn’t take long and Zhou Mi’s breathing evens out into sleep. Han Geng sits there, holding him, until the first rays of the rising sun colour the horizon.
A week later Han Geng is in a cramped hotel room with too many people filled in too little space. He has just emerged from the shower and gotten decently dressed again, when Heechul demands his turn in the bathroom. A second later, he re-appears in the doorframe. “What is this!?” He grins straight at Han Geng, laughter in his eyes as he waves around a bright orange bottle. “Since when do you use peach-passion shampoo!?”
Han Geng shrugs. And begs no one notices the slight blush on his cheeks. “I like the scent.”
“You… like the scent?” Heechul arches an eyebrow, obviously not buying a single word of that. Or, at least, not buying it as the whole truth.
Knowing there is no way out of this, Han Geng sighs. “It reminds me of Zhou Mi, okay.”
Heechul just smirks.
---
833 words.
For hojaverde (⊃ ´ω`)⊃♥⊂(´ω` ⊂)
Also! There is a list of Gengmi fiction here! Contribute if you have something to add. Or you could be so kind and reblog this link on tumblr. All help is greatly appreciated :D Thank you~♥
I kind of feel like writing short random drabbles~ but I guess I’ll go and try to work on one of the million Qmi fics I need to finish :D
Feel free to add our journal if you like the stories!
Plus, the archive. And requests.
†♠♣♥♦♫
Author:
fonulynRating: PG
Pairing: Han Geng/Zhou Mi (plus Heechul, how does he do this)
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Sleep is totally overrated.
Comments: So hojaverde spammed Gengmi on her tumblr and I love her for it and in return I wanted to give her a little something~ This is very short but... kind of sweet? 8D Enjoyy~
It’s dark when Han Geng startles awake. His heart is beating a little faster than usual due to the dreams he had, and he tries to shake the feeling the best he can. He doesn’t even remember what happened in the dreams but there is this vague feeling of discomfort that he wants to get rid of. Naturally, he rolls over and reaches to the side, but where his hand should have met the warm body of another person he meets only air and crumpled sheets.
That makes Han Geng frown. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes he looks up to the digital numbers of the clock and finds 03:30 staring right back at him. Oh swell.
It’s too late to go back to sleep anyway, he knows that and thus struggles to untangle his legs from the blanket. The sheets rustle as he shifts on the mattress, cool air hitting bare skin as soon as he straightens. He kind of wants to curl back into the covers but he decides against it and steps out of bed anyway. The floor is cold underneath his bare feet and instinctively he wraps his arms around himself when his skin gets goose bumps. Apparently it is already too cold to be dressed in a thin t-shirt and pyjama bottoms.
The curtains in the living room are pulled wide open and the door to the balcony is ajar. The cool breeze blows inside through the gap and for a moment, Han Geng thinks he should really go find a pair of warm socks for himself. He doesn’t, though, doesn’t turn around. The door creaks slightly as he slips outside, into the moist night air illuminated by the pale moonlight and the shining neon lights of the city below.
Zhou Mi is sitting in one of the foldable chairs, his knees pulled up to his chest. Somehow he looks even more thin than usual, his arms wrapped around his legs as he leans his chin on them. He’s not wearing anything more than a simple t-shirt either, and the heavy weight of worry shifts in Han Geng’s stomach. The feeling lifts, evaporates into the air, as Zhou Mi turns his head and smiles at him, a smile that reaches up to his eyes. “I couldn’t sleep,” Zhou Mi whispers as if louder speech would break something.
“Aren’t you freezing?” Han Geng asks softly, instinctively lowering his voice as well. Without waiting for an answer he reaches for the blanket that is folded on one of the chairs and he knows it’s cold as well. He also knows that it’ll warm up soon enough and then serve its purpose. Not waiting for an answer he sits down carefully, on the chair right next to Zhou Mi’s.
Their shoulders brush and Han Geng feels how the younger man leans in, against him. Carefully he wraps the blanket around them both, pulling his feet up as well to shelter them from the cold. As predicted, the blanket is useless at first but it’s noticeable how that changes. Han Geng is still warm, and the warmth seeps from him to their little shelter. They sit curled up close, right next to one another, their feet tucked close to make sure they keep the cold away the best they can.
“I had a nightmare,” Han Geng admits after a second, his voice barely audible. Zhou Mi shifts, as if his physical closeness can already bring comfort. In a way it does. He rests his head on Han Geng’s shoulder, gets as comfortable as he can. “Want to talk about it?” He sounds genuinely interested, even a little worried.
Han Geng takes a moment to think. He turns his head and presses his nose into the other man’s dark hair, inhales the scent of the peach-passion shampoo. It makes him smile. “No. Not really.” He sneaks an arm around Zhou Mi’s lithe frame, content when he feels him relax completely against him.
It doesn’t take long and Zhou Mi’s breathing evens out into sleep. Han Geng sits there, holding him, until the first rays of the rising sun colour the horizon.
A week later Han Geng is in a cramped hotel room with too many people filled in too little space. He has just emerged from the shower and gotten decently dressed again, when Heechul demands his turn in the bathroom. A second later, he re-appears in the doorframe. “What is this!?” He grins straight at Han Geng, laughter in his eyes as he waves around a bright orange bottle. “Since when do you use peach-passion shampoo!?”
Han Geng shrugs. And begs no one notices the slight blush on his cheeks. “I like the scent.”
“You… like the scent?” Heechul arches an eyebrow, obviously not buying a single word of that. Or, at least, not buying it as the whole truth.
Knowing there is no way out of this, Han Geng sighs. “It reminds me of Zhou Mi, okay.”
Heechul just smirks.
---
833 words.
For hojaverde (⊃ ´ω`)⊃♥⊂(´ω` ⊂)
Also! There is a list of Gengmi fiction here! Contribute if you have something to add. Or you could be so kind and reblog this link on tumblr. All help is greatly appreciated :D Thank you~♥
I kind of feel like writing short random drabbles~ but I guess I’ll go and try to work on one of the million Qmi fics I need to finish :D
Feel free to add our journal if you like the stories!
Plus, the archive. And requests.
†♠♣♥♦♫