Title: The Same Old Thing
Characters: Leeteuk/Yesung
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1.053
Summary: Where Yesung's trying to make his hyung quit.
A/N: So I posted this on SJW first before posting it here and everyone seemed to think the main role fit Heechul incredibly well, but I'm sad to say that I didn't write it with him in mind. (: Here's the real deal.. Teuk's probably completely OOC and everything's hugely messed up (why would they need phone calls?) but still.. Enjoy.
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It was another one of those weekday evenings where he had just returned from schedules, tired as hell, but unable to sleep like everyone else oh so wisely did. He leaned against the kitchen cupboard, one hand on the sink, one hand plucking the cigarette from between his lips so he could nonchalantly exhale the intoxicating smoke. His right shoulder was pulled up a little, thereby keeping the phone securely against his ear, making him able to listen to the one on the other side speaking to him - or more nagging at him at that moment.
“You should really quit, hyung.” it sounded in the form of a sigh, making him smirk, because the other always said that. “It’s not good for you and you know it. Everyone knows it. Remember how good you could sing before and how much of a mess your voice is now.” He snorted, inhaling another breath of smoke and holding it in his mouth for a moment before exhaling it towards the window. “Well, you won’t listen anyway, I know that. It’s time for me to go sleep. You should do the same.” the voice continued, the last words making him freeze in his movements.
“Talk to me a little longer.” he uttered, the first time he spoke again in a long time. It was always like that; he would call up the other, they would exchange the general greetings and then he would settle back into a silence while the other talked non-stop about his day and everything that had happened to him. After a while the other would run out of things to say and tell him to go sleep, but he’d always ask for more stories, more talking, more time to listen to the other’s rough voice and blocking everything else out of his mind.
“I can’t today.” the other sighed, effectively making him stand up straight and pay full attention to the conversation again.
“What do you mean you can’t?” he demanded to know, narrowing his eyes even though the other couldn’t see him. The cigarette between his lips suddenly didn’t appeal to him anymore and he took it from between his lips to put it out in the ashtray. With his other hand he took hold of the phone and he paced towards the other side of the kitchen to get a glass and fill it with water. As he put it to his lips, there was finally a sound again on the other side and he could hear the other shuffle underneath his blankets.
“You know I need my sleep. I’ve been lacking too much sleep already lately, I feel like my head might explode any moment now.” the answer came and he imagined the other frowning and softly rubbing his forehead in a vain hope that the touch might clear the headache. He gulped down the glass of water in one go, putting it down and walking out of the kitchen, back to his own room. “I’ll call you again tomorrow, okay? What time are you free?” the other tried when the silence lasted, which was never a good sign.
“I’m not free tomorrow.” he almost immediately retorted, voice slightly annoyed. “I’ve got schedules all day and I need to get up early the day after, so I need to sleep early.” His hand moved up out of an automatism to pluck the cigarette from between his lips, but he stopped the movement halfway and dropped it again when he realised there was nothing to remove. An annoyed frown appeared on his face and he soon found the package of cigarettes in the pocket of his sweater. He stuck the phone between his shoulder and ear again to be able to pluck one out and light it up.
“The day after tomorrow then.” the other muttered to him meanwhile, obviously not pleased with the news that had just been passed on. “You should really quit, you know. The cigarettes are not making your mood any better either and the last thing I need is having the others call me as well to complain about your foul moods and to tell me to do something about it. Despite what you might like to think, I am not your slave, so please deal with their complains yourself.”
“Will do, your highness.” he snapped, annoyed at the never ending nagging of the other. “Anything else? Maybe I should donate to the poor and start a biological food industry?” He grumbled some curses, before taking the phone in his free hand once again and biting a “No thanks, I’ll pass. Goodnight. I hope you get haunted by nightmares.” into it. He ended the call, throwing the phone across the room and onto his bed in a fit of anger. When the smoke of the second inhale left his mouth again, he already felt guilty for cutting short the conversation like that, because everything had become very silent once more.
He walked up to the window, opening it and staring outside into the night. The lights of the city were almost blinding and the amount of noise coming from the busy streets was incredible, yet it somehow didn’t make his surroundings any less silent, as if someone had muted the whole world around him just to annoy the hell out of him. He stayed in the opened window until he finished his cigarette, after which he flicked the thing outside without any second thoughts. Right at that moment his phone beeped and he closed the window again before walking up to the bed to fetch the phone and read the text.
‘That’s the third time this week. I’d say I should just stop calling, but we both know I won’t anyway, so just take care. I love you.’
He snorted at the amount of cheesy nonsense that filled the text, but as he flopped down on his bed - still fully clothed and not bothering to get underneath the covers - a smile spread on his face anyway. He closed his eyes and fell asleep with thoughts about long past times when he didn’t need cigarettes or daily phone calls to have a smile on his face, a time where not every day was the same as the previous one and things seemed happier.
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