Kyuhyun/girl!Sungmin; PG-13 (might change); 11547 words; chaptered
Kyuhyun's best friend will always be his little girl, even when she grows up.
a/n: sorry for the slight delay, I hope your holidays are going well if you have them~ and sorry if you are getting frustrated with Kyuhyun D: the rating will go up to at least R, I think, so if that offends you I am sorry. I will be sure to make it clear when the rating does change~ thank you for reading :)
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5
Kyuhyun is still tired, still exhausted, still clinging just barely to consciousness but his stomach is full of fruits and noodles and juice from the breakfast he shared with Sungmin. The plate sits surprisingly empty on her bedside table, like their dinner plate in Kyuhyun's room; a lone strawberry slice had almost been left behind, the odd one out. Neither had wanted to eat more than their share, but then Sungmin didn't want it to be lonely, and Kyuhyun didn't believe in wasting food. Sungmin bit half of it off and chewed while feeding the rest to Kyuhyun as he glared at her with narrowed eyes, grumbling that he could feed himself, thanks. The bottle of juice is empty, the rim dry now but once damp with their shared saliva, neither of them thinking anything of the indirect kiss.
Or rather Kyuhyun thinking everything of it, hating himself, knowing Sungmin deserves a better oppa. He watches her sleeping beside him again, close like last night, centimeters between them. She's facing him, but her eyes are closed gently, lips parted and releasing the sweetness of berries and pumpkin into the space between them. He watches her chest moving slowly, forward and back, out and in. She must have changed clothes when she came home last night; Kyuhyun recognizes her t-shirt as one of his own, one he wore by the pool when Sungmin and Eunhyuk were younger. He tells himself that he's trying his hardest not to look at her hip and thigh, exposed from minute movements; she's only wearing a pair of black underwear, thin cotton material that contrasts prettily with her tan skin and the bright pink blanket halfway up her thigh.
Kyuhyun feels his stomach churn with self-loathing, repulsed by his own attraction, thinking he's sick when his fingers touch her skin lightly. He inhales as he watches goose bumps flood Sungmin's warm skin under his touch, eyes darting to look at her face, but she keeps sleeping, chest moving in a slow rhythm, out and in. Kyuhyun puts his palm flat, thumb brushing the edge of her underwear, his fingers trembling as he merely feels her. Sungmin releases a soft sound, a quiet whine, and Kyuhyun looks at her face; her full lips still parted, cheeks healthy and warm from a full meal, brow slightly furrowed. His body reacts and he pulls away, leaving the ghost of his touch behind in the room to do whatever his sick desires and fantasies want, as he leaves the house the same way he came, Sungmin's parents long gone to work.
Kyuhyun cries in the shower, vision blurred from the steam of the scalding hot water and his own tears, knowing the water is washing the evidence of his deplorable act down the drain, but feeling no more alleviated. Giving in hasn't resolved any of his arousal and desire; it still burns inside of him, even as he sobs in humiliation, one hand supporting himself against the slippery shower tiles, the other still wrapped weakly around himself between his shaking thighs.
You are disgusting, he tells himself. You're fucking disgusting! he wants to scream, wants to smash his head on the tile wall, wants to run down the drain with his come and fester in a sewer with other shit like himself.
Kyuhyun goes back to Seoul later that day. His mother complains that he only just came home, that he hasn't even been there for twenty-four hours! but he can't stay, can't fucking stand to see Sungmin and bear the weight of his own shame and humiliation, so he makes up a story about a job opportunity, getting an in with a company early, more credits to potentially finish grad school sooner. The lies are big and he can't take them back, but whatever it takes to get lost before his ugly truth gets out, he'll do it.
He shows up at Shindong's apartment at 9 PM, looking and feeling like complete shit, eyes red and daring his former lab partner to say something cruel, to turn him back on the street. His hyung just sighs and lets him in, sets him up with a place to sleep on the couch, and offers him a generous helping of supper. Kyuhyun declines politely, thinking of the last thing he ate - half of a heart-shaped strawberry from Sungmin's fingertips - and shuts himself in the bathroom.
At 5:59 AM when Kyuhyun's watching the sunrise flood the horizon with pink, red, and orange, his cell phone vibrates on the floor by his hip. Sungmin didn't have a cell phone when he left for college; her parents said she was too young, and Sungmin didn't even ask for one. They never exchanged numbers when she finally did get one for her fifteenth birthday, but Kyuhyun doesn't need caller ID to know the text message is from her:
"I just don't understand why you won't come home anymore," his mother says a bit tearfully, and Kyuhyun blinks rapidly, fighting the stinging in his eyes at the sound of his mother's voice.
"It's not like that at all, mum," he sighs, rubbing at the bags under his eyes, trying to stifle a yawn. "It's just a busy semester, you know? I'm sure you and dad could use a holiday without me around," he offers sensibly.
"Kyuhyunnie, what are you saying? We haven't seen you since August first; I wrote it down, don't try to tell me I'm getting senile. You didn't come home for Chuseok or Halloween, and now you won't come home for Christmas? You father didn't even see you this summer, remember? You only came home for a day!"
Kyuhyun's skin crawls as he remembers, tries to forget, and fails.
Sungmin's hot skin, Sungmin's fingertips putting a strawberry in his mouth, Sungmin's arms around his shoulders, Sungmin, Sungmin, Sungmin
"Alright," Kyuhyun relents weakly, leaning back heavily in his desk chair, his homework strewn all over his dorm room desk, his bed, the floor - every available surface. "I guess... I could come Thursday-"
"Oh, Kyuhyunnie!" His mom shouts happily, and Kyuhyun manages a weak smile.
Sungmin isn't home.
"The Lees? Oh, they decided to travel for the holidays," his mother chatters happily as Kyuhyun helps her with Christmas dinner, staring blindly out the window at the dark house next door. "I can't remember where they were going first, Ulsan or Jeju, but they won't get home until the day before Minnie's classes resume. Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry you won't get to see her before you go back to college, it's been so long. You haven't even missed her birthday before, have you? Ah, they will still be gone then, such a pity," she rambles, stirring a large pot of something that Kyuhyun knows should smell good, should remind him of his childhood, but nothing gets through as he continues to stare at the dark house.
Kyuhyun comes home over the summer holiday only because Shindong moved into a smaller apartment to scrimp and save as much as possible for his last year of grad school, and Kyuhyun is ill - too ill to get proper care in a tiny studio apartment without someone to watch over him constantly.
His mother cries when Shindong drags him up the driveway. She apologizes for not having a meal ready, tells her son's friend he can help himself to the kitchen, and goes about setting Kyuhyun up in bed, preparing to wait on him hand and foot for however long she must.
It takes a good week of his mother's babying, proper meals, and constant napping before he can stand up and walk around on his own. Kyuhyun knows he doesn't take care of himself at college, knows he overworks himself, knows he does more than he should - all so he won't remember or think about things he has no earthly business thinking about. He's twenty-four years old and still a brat, bringing his dirty laundry home for his mother to wash.
"Oh, don't I know it," his mother chatters into the phone as Kyuhyun shuffles into the kitchen, bleary-eyed. She waves at him with a large knife in her hand, causing him to flinch, before she turns back to the counter where she's chopping vegetables for dinner. "They never really grow up, do they? I still have to feed him or else he forgets. You should have seen him when he came home from college - I thought he was half-dead!"
Kyuhyun rolls his eyes and drops heavily onto a stool at the counter, picking up a pair of chopsticks weakly and fumbling like a beginner, nibbling on kimchi.
"Oh, I guess he works too hard. He comes home starved, looking like a skeleton," she continues, and Kyuhyun tunes her out until he can't anymore. His mother gasps, scandalized at something.
"No! Not our little Minnie? You can't be serious," she rages, gossiping, but Kyuhyun is sure that she's talking to Sungmin's mother. "How could she have? She was so healthy during Chuseok - gosh, I can't believe it's been that long since I've seen her, I suspect she doesn't come around much because, well - but really!"
Kyuhyun wants to pull his hair or throw his chopsticks at his mother's head. He hasn't heard from Sungmin or seen her in a year, and now his mother is dangling this conversation over his head, and he's chewing his kimchi much too forcefully.
"Oh dear, I bet that cost you a pretty penny," his mother continues, chopping faster now, oblivious to the chopsticks Kyuhyun's holding like a dagger in his fist. "Well I guess if she's constantly active... what did you call that program?... Ah, right, right," she nods, and Kyuhyun grinds his teeth suddenly.
"Mum!" He shrieks, causing her to jump and nearly drop her knife.
"Good heavens, Kyuhyunnie, you nearly gave me a heart attack! What if I cut off my finger!" His mother scolds, whirling around to point the sharp end at him as she lectures.
"What the hell are you talking about to Mrs. Lee? What's wrong with Sungmin?" He demands, banging his fist on the counter, gritting his teeth when it stings.
His mother clutches her free hand to her chest, the other wrapped around the knife, the phone cradled between her ear and shoulder.
"Oh, never you mind," she says into the phone, turning back around to resume preparing supper. Kyuhyun practically seethes.
"Don't ignore me!" He whines, but his mother continues talking into the phone.
"I suspect he's just crabby, he's only just recovering from his semester. He had an awful fever when he came home, too. I almost didn't think he'd make it," she laments.
"Don't be so dramatic," Kyuhyun cries. "What's wrong with Sungmin?"
"Sorry, he does have a high-pitched whine, doesn't he? I'd better feed him before he gets really fussy."
"I'm not a baby!"
"You give my best to Sungmin, alright? Tell her to keep eating, I don't want her coming home looking like Kyuhyun," his mother teases, but Kyuhyun can hear a hint of seriousness in her voice, and his petulance washes away completely.
"She's not eating again?" He asks, voice nearly a whisper as his mother hangs up the phone.
"What do you mean, again?" She asks, dishing him up a bowl of rice and steamed vegetables.
"Nothing," he mutters, taking his food and padding back out of the kitchen in his robe and slippers, ignoring his mother's repeated question.
Kyuhyun sits at his desk, staring at his cell phone next to his half-eaten bowl of rice, next to his open laptop, beside heavy stacks of text books and notebooks and pencils scattered around the messy surface. A year ago he'd locked the text message from the phone number he didn't recognize, knowing he shouldn't have, scared that one day he would send a text message to her and fall into his own crippling trap again. He can feel it now; the desire to text her, to say something is undeniable and no matter how hard he might be trying to ignore it, his fingers still pick up his phone, scroll to the end of his inbox, find the one locked message and push reply.
His fingers hover over the buttons, over I'm sorry, I'm an asshole, I miss you, I love you, you'll always be my little girl. But he knows he shouldn't send them, because they're honest, like the your skin feels good under my fingertips and I want to feel you again that his fingers threaten to type. The urge, the perverted asshole hasn't died, and Kyuhyun is only left with a pathetic plea:
Kyuhyun falls asleep sitting at his desk. His rice is cold when he suddenly wakes up and uses the chopsticks still in his hand to begin eating again, as if he hadn't stopped. His phone beeps at him a few minutes later, and he realizes that must be what woke him initially. A picture-text message from the now familiar phone number is waiting; a half-eaten bowl of rice, vegetables, and kimchi.
Kyuhyun quickly texts back, heart beating rapidly, like a fucking school boy with a crush.
finish it all, he demands.
where are you?, he asks, fingers shaking slightly, wondering why he's doing this to himself.
ulsan. where are you?
Kyuhyun grumbles, as if she can hear his annoyance. home in incheon. why are you gone whenever i come home?
why do you only come home whenever i'm gone?
Kyuhyun makes a frustrated face and tries his best to re-create it via text: >:0
what is that supposed to be?, he teases, nibbling on a pea pod.
a halo. i'm an angel.
Kyuhyun chokes and swallows the whole pea pod roughly, fighting off the mental image of Sungmin wearing nothing but a smile and a halo that has sprung to mind, chopsticks flailing against the invisible adversary.
"Fuck my life," Kyuhyun groans, feeling bitter defeat stinging his eyes with tears. A whole year apart has done nothing to cure him of his repulsive disease, and even when all he's trying to do is look after her he still can't keep himself from remembering, from imagining, from wishing.
You're twenty-four years old, Cho Kyuhyun. You're finishing grad school in a year, getting a fucking job like a real man, and living your life in celibacy away from innocent girls like Sungmin.
No buts, you fucking pervert!
Sungmin spends the entire summer in Ulsan with Eunhyuk and a boy named Donghae. It's a summer program for dance students; Kyuhyun didn't know Sungmin liked to dance beyond begging him to twirl her around the room like Belle in Beauty and the Beast when she was five years old. Kyuhyun doesn't think of Donghae until Sungmin mentions him again in passing one day; Kyuhyun doesn't feel any jealousy or hurt, and wonders what that means - has he moved on from that sort of attachment? Does he not feel threatened by other men in her life? Or is he still hopelessly missing her, so much so that he can't spare a thought for things like that?
She texts him sometimes and he texts back. He texts her sometimes and she texts back. She sends him a picture of the East Sea at sunset and sunrise, and Kyuhyun orders prints of the photos from a nearby drugstore, picks them up on a lazy Saturday morning and pins them up on his bedroom wall. Kyuhyun sets his alarm and wakes up early just to take a picture of the sunrise from his room; he doesn't have to leave his bed, just squirm around until his head is where his feet should be, and snap a picture through the open balcony doors. He lies there on his side, watching his sheer white curtains fluttering with the early morning breeze, and closes his eyes, remembering all the sunrises he watched with Sungmin over the years. He thinks the cool air making his unkempt hair tickle at his neck is like how it felt to brush his fingertips along Sungmin's tender stomach, her hips, her thighs…
Kyuhyun's eyes fall open again reluctantly, burning with tears and not the sting of the sunlight spilling directly into the room. He brushes at the warm, salty tracks irritably and sends the picture before righting himself in bed, burrowing under the covers until his alarm will wake him again at sunset.
Kyuhyun comes home again for Christmas. He's exhausted like always; he only has one semester left of grad school, just months before he'd better have a job in line and be prepared to start paying off student loans. A week ago Sungmin had sent him a picture-text message of snow in Incheon, saying see you if i see you.
Kyuhyun had nothing to show her but reference books, empty coffee cups scattered around his dorm, his unmade bed, the shadows and lines under his eyes, and the dreary winter sky of Seoul. So he said nothing and hoped he'd be in better spirits when or if he went home.
But his eyes are dark and tired, and the minute he comes through the door he collapses onto the couch in the living room, and sleeps for twenty hours straight. His mother tells him the next day while rolling dough that she'd tried waking him several times before giving up.
"I thought you'd finally gone and died, Kyuhyunnie," she cries, kneading and rolling a bit angrily. "When are you going to start taking care of yourself? How do you expect me to let you go after school? You think you can move into the city somewhere and live on your own but you come home looking like this, so thin I could snap you in half like that," she scolds, snapping her fingers and sending a little cloud of flour into the air.
Kyuhyun stares at her sleepily from across the counter.
"Are you even awake yet?!" His mother shouts, slapping her hands down on the counter, sending a larger puff of flour into the air.
"What's all the yelling abo- ooh, what kind of pie are you making, darling?" His dad asks when he comes into the kitchen, peering over his wife's shoulder.
"Honestly, now is not the time, dear. Look at our son! Look what's become of him!" His mother sniffs, turning back to her dough. "Eat your lunch, Kyuhyunnie!" She cries over her shoulder.
"Mum's just being dramatic again," Kyuhyun says sleepily, picking up a bit of green pepper with his chopsticks. It falls into his lap before it gets to his mouth and he sighs, laying his head down on the counter, too tired to bother.
"C'mon, Kyuhyun, don't make me feed you like you're a baby. Pick up your head and have your lunch, your mother's concerned about your health," his father orders. Kyuhyun's always been a fairly obedient son, albeit more so when he was younger, so he finds the strength to pick himself up and stomach half of his meal. His mother glares when he says he's finished, and keeps glaring until he sighs and finishes the rest.
"Don't forget tomorrow night, Kyuhyunnie," she reminds sweetly, filling her pie crust with pumpkin.
"What?" Kyuhyun asks absently, brushing the flour off his cheek from when he'd laid his head on the counter.
"Dinner at the Lee's, didn't I tell you? Oh, I didn't get the chance since you've been asleep since yesterday afternoon, how could I have forgotten," his mother says testily, but Kyuhyun is already shuffling out of the room, making his way blindly up the stairs to collapse in bed and stare at the pictures of the sunrise and sunset over the East Sea, thinking of Sungmin.