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chineseinkComplementary
Super Junior, PG, KangTeuk, 707 words
It's not fanservice. But it's not what you think it is either.
complementary
by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
meitachi
Kangin knows fanservice. He knows the hand-holding and the almost-kisses, the flirtatious body language and the laughing references to each other in all their interviews. But the reality is that he's grown so used to having Leeteuk at his side that he doesn't know if he can function without him. The dependency has become so natural, so unthinking as to be instinctual: coming into a room and immediately, subconsciously placing Leeteuk; angling his body to adjust for Leeteuk’s when they’re crowded, all thirteen, into a space made for eight; expecting Leeteuk to take care of the members in all the ways that leaves just the right amount of room for Kangin’s own brand of care. They are jokingly called umma and appa but Kangin doesn’t think he’s ever seen his parents so interwoven in unconscious harmony, filling each other’s empty spaces so inevitably.
He looks at the girl across the table: pretty, sweet, with a beautiful laugh. He looks at her and he doesn't know how she can ever expect to be more important to him than Leeteuk. She hasn't been there, she's not always there, will never always be there—there’s an area of his life that is fundamentally unreachable for her. He likes her, though, and he wants to date her. He wants to take her out and make her smile and win a few sweet, brief kisses from her. But he can't stop the itch under his skin to call Leeteuk, to check if he's eaten, to berate him for worrying too much about Kibum, who has been filming for three straight days, or about Donghae, who hasn’t had the energy to smile off-camera lately, to ask for advice on winning over the girl sitting with him.
It’s not fanservice. It’s a dependency ingrained so deep that if Kangin had been X-rayed like Sungmin and Shindong on their new show about the human body, ‘Leeteuk’ would probably have been etched on his bones.
It’s not like he wants to kiss Leeteuk, or make him blush, or any of the other silly things they do for their fans: that’s all for fun. He knows, because he’s been in the business long enough. But sometimes Kangin wants to hold Leeteuk, Jungsu, and help carry the burden of his responsibility for a while. He pushes around the younger members half-jokingly, half-seriously, because it makes Leeteuk laugh but also because it instills a fundamental respect in their juniors that they will not challenge, that will make Leeteuk’s job easier. Kangin wants to marry someday and he wants Leeteuk there, at his side, looking his age in a perfectly pressed tuxedo, a little anxious, a little nostalgic, but overwhelmed with happiness for his favorite dongsaeng, friend.
He wonders if this girl will be his bride one day or if she will call him in five weeks and apologize, voice unhappy as she breaks his heart. He wonders if she will reproach him for the lack of attention, something she was understanding about—he is a celebrity, after all, always busy, always on the go—until she began drawing comparisons. You can always make the time to call him, she might say, and you see him every day as it is. She might mention the casual touches, far more telling than the blatant, orchestrated winks and couple-dances. Her voice might falter when she tells him, It’s not fair to me, Kangin-ah. He wonders if he will leave her instead, because he will try too hard to look for something in her that he will never find. Or maybe it’s that he won’t look for something in her, from her, because he has it already.
This dependency—Kangin wonders if it’s healthy. He smiles, instinctively, when the girl he’s with, future bride or passing mistake, leans forward and says something. He says something in return, charming and funny, and looks at the curve of her jaw peeking out from underneath her hand as she covers her laugh.
Leeteuk would tell him not to fuck this up, because she’s not only beautiful, she’s smart and easygoing and has a sense of humor. Kangin wonders if she also has the ability to make peace with being second in his life.
Started/Finished: 12.07.2007
notes: So I was thinking--what if your platonic love for a friend outweighs your romantic love for your significant other? Is that okay? Is that unfair? What if you can't help it? And what if the friend is of the same sex? That brought up a lot of other religious issues to consider--oh S.Korea, so Christian, so bizarre--but yeah. I don't know. :/ I'm going to go wrap Christmas presents now.
Super Junior, PG, KangTeuk, 707 words
It's not fanservice. But it's not what you think it is either.
complementary
by
meitachiKangin knows fanservice. He knows the hand-holding and the almost-kisses, the flirtatious body language and the laughing references to each other in all their interviews. But the reality is that he's grown so used to having Leeteuk at his side that he doesn't know if he can function without him. The dependency has become so natural, so unthinking as to be instinctual: coming into a room and immediately, subconsciously placing Leeteuk; angling his body to adjust for Leeteuk’s when they’re crowded, all thirteen, into a space made for eight; expecting Leeteuk to take care of the members in all the ways that leaves just the right amount of room for Kangin’s own brand of care. They are jokingly called umma and appa but Kangin doesn’t think he’s ever seen his parents so interwoven in unconscious harmony, filling each other’s empty spaces so inevitably.
He looks at the girl across the table: pretty, sweet, with a beautiful laugh. He looks at her and he doesn't know how she can ever expect to be more important to him than Leeteuk. She hasn't been there, she's not always there, will never always be there—there’s an area of his life that is fundamentally unreachable for her. He likes her, though, and he wants to date her. He wants to take her out and make her smile and win a few sweet, brief kisses from her. But he can't stop the itch under his skin to call Leeteuk, to check if he's eaten, to berate him for worrying too much about Kibum, who has been filming for three straight days, or about Donghae, who hasn’t had the energy to smile off-camera lately, to ask for advice on winning over the girl sitting with him.
It’s not fanservice. It’s a dependency ingrained so deep that if Kangin had been X-rayed like Sungmin and Shindong on their new show about the human body, ‘Leeteuk’ would probably have been etched on his bones.
It’s not like he wants to kiss Leeteuk, or make him blush, or any of the other silly things they do for their fans: that’s all for fun. He knows, because he’s been in the business long enough. But sometimes Kangin wants to hold Leeteuk, Jungsu, and help carry the burden of his responsibility for a while. He pushes around the younger members half-jokingly, half-seriously, because it makes Leeteuk laugh but also because it instills a fundamental respect in their juniors that they will not challenge, that will make Leeteuk’s job easier. Kangin wants to marry someday and he wants Leeteuk there, at his side, looking his age in a perfectly pressed tuxedo, a little anxious, a little nostalgic, but overwhelmed with happiness for his favorite dongsaeng, friend.
He wonders if this girl will be his bride one day or if she will call him in five weeks and apologize, voice unhappy as she breaks his heart. He wonders if she will reproach him for the lack of attention, something she was understanding about—he is a celebrity, after all, always busy, always on the go—until she began drawing comparisons. You can always make the time to call him, she might say, and you see him every day as it is. She might mention the casual touches, far more telling than the blatant, orchestrated winks and couple-dances. Her voice might falter when she tells him, It’s not fair to me, Kangin-ah. He wonders if he will leave her instead, because he will try too hard to look for something in her that he will never find. Or maybe it’s that he won’t look for something in her, from her, because he has it already.
This dependency—Kangin wonders if it’s healthy. He smiles, instinctively, when the girl he’s with, future bride or passing mistake, leans forward and says something. He says something in return, charming and funny, and looks at the curve of her jaw peeking out from underneath her hand as she covers her laugh.
Leeteuk would tell him not to fuck this up, because she’s not only beautiful, she’s smart and easygoing and has a sense of humor. Kangin wonders if she also has the ability to make peace with being second in his life.
Started/Finished: 12.07.2007
notes: So I was thinking--what if your platonic love for a friend outweighs your romantic love for your significant other? Is that okay? Is that unfair? What if you can't help it? And what if the friend is of the same sex? That brought up a lot of other religious issues to consider--oh S.Korea, so Christian, so bizarre--but yeah. I don't know. :/ I'm going to go wrap Christmas presents now.
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