レーザ。 (onew) wrote in summarise,

Various drabbles/fics @ kpfw

One massive post. Dumping some fics I wrote for the past few fic memes and will never get to finish. Just making sure that everything that needs to be posted will be posted before I retire for real.


Hey mister, go lightly
Woohyun/L; 311 words; PG-13. Woohyun has issues with being looked down on. Myungsoo tries to rectify this with a pat on the back.

It's one of those days again when Woohyun strains his vocal chords a bit too much and walks out of the room with a forced smile of satisfaction on his lips. The trainers have been egging on him to push harder, do better, but a man who has been recording for six hours straight can only do so much. He's glad to be one of the two (the other being Sunggyu, who can hold so much better than he can) to have a solo and a duet in their album, but his throat is dry and his eyes are heavy and the lyrics are getting messed up in his head.

"Okay, that will do. It's a wrap."

Woohyun hates the sharp and rustic taste of blood in his tongue as he bites a bit too hard on his lip. Myungsoo pushes hard on his back and makes him bow to the staff, and promptly pulls him out of the recording room.

The rest have left already. Myungsoo seems to have been the unfortunate loser in a game of rock-paper-scissors, so he's the one who has stayed behind to make sure Woohyun doesn't lose his way. "Complain. It's okay to complain," Myungsoo says just before they hit the parking lot. Woohyun chuckles, punches him lightly in the cheek, and shakes his head.

They sit in the car in companionable silence, and he asks Myungsoo if he can sleep on his shoulder. Myungsoo just looks at him and blinks, so he takes it as a yes and indulges. There's a sharp intake of breath from Myungsoo as he sinks into a peaceful slumber, and only when he wakes up does he realize that he's holding on to Myungsoo's hand so tightly and has been during their entire trip home.

And that he doesn't even bother letting go when they get off the car.

Pixie dust
SHINee, gen; 601 words; PG-13. When Jinki turns 27, he finds out he's destined for much bigger things.

Jinki had quite the unconventional job.

He was a fairy godfather. Yes, the male version of that lady who gave Cinderella a nice, blue dress for the ball. It was hard to believe at first, given that he looked completely human and didn't come decked in fairy attire or didn't even have wings, but his parents kept telling him, "It's your destiny." Primary and secondary school came, university followed, and by the time he was twenty five he had resolved to himself that he was never going to be a fairy godfather.

Which was probably good, he reminded himself. At least he could continue working as a barista at Starbucks and get free coffee everyday, all-day.

When he woke up on his twenty seventh birthday, though, he felt a funny tingle in his toes that sent weird vibrations throughout his body. It creeped him out thoroughly because there was definitely no vibrating object anywhere near him, and he definitely wasn't masturbating. But the effect of the overall sensation was something akin to having an orgasm, he noted, as he closed his eyes and let out the lump of breath that had caught itself in his throat.

Shit, he thought. That was arguably the best birthday gift ever.

Except when he had gotten to his feet, blue silk fell to his knees and something attached to his spine had stretched as if it was being freed for the first time. He rushed to the mirror and, lo and behold — he was a legitimate fairy godfather, sans the old element of the 'godfather' title.

He fells to his knees and thought, this was the worst birthday gift ever.

So it was his first mission.

He'd been partnered with Jonghyun and Minho, novice fairy godfathers in their own right, and sent off to this kid's house to watch over him and make sure he doesn't get into any trouble. The kid was quite the easy person to bully, and it didn't help that he was too kind.

"Pathetic," Jonghyun, dressed in his pink robes, said. Minho, who was in green, nudged him in his side. "Ow! I'm just telling the truth, okay! Besides, fairies never lie."

"You're playing the part too much, Kim," Minho replied, voice low and almost thoroughly creepy. "It's weirding me out."

"I might as well be as convincing as I can be."

"Will you two be quiet?" Jinki shot a stern look at the two and flew closer to the the kid's bedroom window. "What did they say our mission was? I'm sure it wasn't just keeping watch on this boy."

"Well," Jonghyun began, taking out the list of responsibilities for this particular mission, then ran his finger through each item. "There's making sure he eats on time, doesn't sleep on his way to class, doesn't strain himself during dance practice, and that he falls in love with a certain 'Kibum.'" Jonghyun paused for a while, then looked at Minho and Jinki . "That's weird. Kibum is a guy's name, right?"

Minho raised an eyebrow. "Are you questioning our destiny and the orders of he gods?"

"No, no, of course I'm not! Just… curious." Jonghyun's voice drifted off. "God, Minho, you're too serious. Get a life."

Jinki chuckled a little at how Jonghyun bravely stood up to Minho, and at the weird thought that one of their goals was to make this kid fall in love. "What was his name again?" he asked, looking over his shoulder. 'Lee Taemin, says the book,' Jonghyun called out, and Jinki thought to himself, wow, this was going to be interesting.

Very interesting.

Onew/Jonghyun/Minho; 749 words; PG-13. Jonghyun, ATP world #1 and one grandslam short of a golden slam, faces Minho on the clay court for the nth time in his career and frankly, he doesn't have a good feeling about it. (for nautisch)

It was the greatest rivalry of the century, and arguably the most anticipated match of a lifetime — Kim Jonghyun, world number one and the champion of the U.S. and Australian Opens and Wimbledon, was up against Choi Minho, master of clay and world number two, for the first time in Roland Garros, a bit too early into the tournament. This was a deciding match for Jonghyun; if he lost, it would mean missing the chance to snag the elusive French title for the fourth time in a row and risking his number one status for the first time in 128 weeks.

"Shit," Jonghyun mumbled as the realization hit him. He'd been waltzing his way through tournaments all these years yet always been struggling with the French. This had to be his toughest match yet, though, as he was down 4-0 in the third set, with him and Minho having a set each to themselves.

"Scared, Kim?" Minho asked just when Jonghyun had already positioned himself for the big serve. Jonghyun gulped down hard and gripped the ball tightly.

"You wish."

He released the ball into the air, drew his racket back, poised himself for an American twist, and braced himself for what was to come.

Jonghyun bolted from his bed. He had the same dream again. This had been his routine these past few weeks — dream of the 2010 quarter finals match against Minho, wake up regretting every tennis decision he's made from that point on, wonder if playing tennis was all a mistake, then check his phone for any news on the training or exhibition matches from his trainer. The calls and messages for exhibition matches had been steadily decreasing, and he was now at number three, a far cry from where used to be months back.

It was funny how a simple unforced error became his greatest downfall.

He was leading Minho by a set then, and they were at 5-2 in the third set. It was his service game, and he was two points away from winning the match. A service ace and Minho's features had gone from determined to exhausted. Jonghyun was going to win this, he was sure of it, and he just needed another point to win the match.

He tossed the ball in the air and served. It's a fault. These things happen, he told himself. It was probably the tension and excitement at work.

Another service and he's charged a double fault.

The rest of the match was a blur. He chose to forget what happened next, at least. The mere thought of coming so close to beating Minho for the French title was enough to send him to the deepest pits of regret, after all, and no way in hell was he going to allow himself to go back to his old, regretful self.

He came to this year's French Open with only one thing in mind — regain his number one status and beat Choi Minho in the finals — and that was exactly what he was going to do.

"Fancy seeing you here, Jonghyun!"

He came to the courts relatively early to set his mood, but he didn't expect to find Jinki here. Jinki, now seeded first in the tournament and second in the world, was one of his longstanding rivals prior to meeting Minho. Jinki was a good man — he was fair, a pretty good drinker and a quiet practice buddy. The only thing Jonghyun didn't like about Jinki was that he beat him in the Australian Open a couple of months back.

"Hey," Jonghyun said, offering a small smile. He gave Jinki a pat on the back. "Why are you here? Your match isn't until tomorrow, right?"

Jinki nodded. "Yeah, but I thought I'd check out some matches. I mean, I miss seeing you on clay." Jinki's voice drifted off, and he fixed his gaze on the ground. It was amusing, Jonghyun thought, how Jinki could be so blunt yet so mindful of what he says. It was also crazy, to a certain extent.

"Creeper," Jonghyun sneered, then let out a chuckle. Jinki shook his head, a smile slowly surfacing on his lips.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a creeper, alright."

There were three more hours until the match began, so Jonghyun invited Jinki for coffee. Just one cup, Jinki reminded him, because they shouldn't be drinking too much coffee before a match. Jonghyun shook his head and chuckled. If he said anything else, he wouldn't hear the end of it.

Old habits die hard
Heechul/Jay; 567 words; PG. Heechul has a few habits he might be willing to break.

It's that time of the month again — Heechul comes home, drunk to the bone and looking more dreadful than ever. "Tea. On the rocks. Now," he calls out, voice drawling, and Jay follows mindlessly without even so much as a question as to why Heechul's been drinking again.

It's been a habit of Heechul's, going out on the third Friday of the month. He goes to that bar not too far away and has a few drinks with what he considers friends, tries to grab the attention of that cute bartender named Hangeng but ends up throwing up on the counter and in front of the latter. It's the same old story every month, and until now Jay almost forgets that Heechul doesn't like his 'tea on the rocks' with sugar.

"It's sweet. I don't like my tea sweet. Make a new one."

"Shut up, you're drinking this." Jay takes the glass from Heechul and forces him to drink it. Heechul coughs a lot once he's done, and punches Jay lightly on the arm.

"He's got a girlfriend. A Chinese one. Why did I even think I stood a chance with him? I—"

Jay takes Heechul in his arms and pulls him close, the hug effectively silencing the latter. It always works — the ice cold tea, the hug, and then the kiss that soon follows. Jay allows himself to indulge a little this time as he pushes Heechul down on the couch. If he's lucky enough, Heechul will let him.

"What the fuck are you doing," Heechul asks. Jay chuckles.

"I don't know."

Heechul doesn't move so Jay takes it as a go signal. He kisses Heechul on the lips, neck, on his shoulders. It shouldn't mean anything, when Heechul gasps and bites on his lip. Everybody knows it's Hangeng he's thinking about.

Especially him.

It's the fourth consecutive day since the breakdown. Heechul comes home with a box of brownies in one hand and Chinese take out in the other. "I know. Chinese again. Don't ask why." Jay shrugs because this is what he does best — stay silent when Heechul doesn't need a scolding.

"I've decided," Heechul begins, when they're finally having dinner at nine in the evening. "I've got to move on."

"Took you long enough," Jay replies, then fixes his eyes on the noodles in front of him. He takes a good amount of it in his chopsticks and proceeds to eat it, watching Heechul as he chews his food. "Well, it is about time."

"I'll need all the help I can get." A tentative pause, and then, "Especially from you." Jay looks up from his food and notices the shy flush of Heechul's face. "I mean, if you don't mind. You know how helpless I am. I'll need a job, if that makes things clearer."

"Oh. A job. Right." Jay nods. It's easy to get his feelings all mixed up when Heechul's vulnerable and asking for help. "We can use some janitors in the coffeeshop."

Heechul frowns. "Hey, that's foul."

"I'm just helping out, okay!" Jay chuckles. "Besides, can't be choosey. Or would you prefer the opening for the waiter?"

"I actually like that better."

"Awesome." Jay sinks in his seat, chewing what seems to be his third brownie tonight. He looks up at the ceiling and thinks, yeah, that's a great deal of help for Heechul, alright. But definitely not for him.

Tags: couple: heechul/jay, couple: jonghyun/minho, couple: jonghyun/onew, couple: myungsoo/woohyun, couple: taemin/key, fandom: infinite, fandom: shinee, fandom: super junior, fandom: trax
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