Title Cold Comfort
Focus Siwon/Heechul
Rating PG-13
Word Count 972
A/N ::HOOKER!VERSE:: Comes right after ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
halcyon_morn's Mergers and Acquisitions.
Heechul opens the door, his fingers freezing around the cold metal of the handle as he halts, knocked breathless by the sight that greets him. Siwon doesn't look at him, doesn't even turn towards him and for a moment Heechul feels angry, unreasonably and incredibly enraged that the bastard would dare show his face here without even acknowledging Heechul's presence. Just for a moment, though. The feeling passes when he realizes with a jolt of surprise that Siwon did not, in fact, notice his arrival.
Heechul steps into the room cautiously, mindful of the noise as he pushes the door shut and all but tiptoes to the bed. And there Siwon is - not a figment of his imagination, it seems - sleeping, his face still, eyelashes dark against his pale cheeks. He looks very different than his normal, awake self. Heechul stares at his profile, the strong, smooth line of his jaw and the dark stubble dusting it. It makes him look - against all logic - younger than Heechul knows him to be.
He should kick him out. He would have every right; he didn't let Siwon in and if he knew he would be coming here tonight, Heechul would have probably called in sick - a weak excuse he doesn't really expect Eeteuk to fall for at this point. He should kick the bastard out, but - and there always is a but with Choi Siwon, because Choi Siwon isn't like the rest of human kind and Kim Heechul isn't like himself around him. Rella, perhaps, could do it; shriek and claw and kick and spit until Siwon got bored or fed up with him, because Rella is a professional queen like that. But Rella is on sick leave tonight.
Siwon's eyes are open. When did that happen? Heechul scowls down at him, trying - in vain - to mask his surprise.
"What are you doing here? I don't think we have business tonight."
Siwon just keeps looking up at him, unabashed like always. There is a strange sheen to his eyes, though, a hazy veil of intoxication that explains a hundred unasked questions bouncing around in Heechul's mind.
"You're drunk." Heechul tries to make it sound disgusted, but in the end, it just comes out unsure and helpless.
Siwon shrugs awkwardly; it's a reaction at last. "What's that to you?" His voice is low, hoarse, sleep-warm, his speech carefully slow.
Heechul tries to repress a delicious shudder as he replies. "You're in my bed, for one."
There's a slight pause as Siwon processes that, acknowledging the point with a small nod. "Yeah, I am. So?" He runs a hand through his hair, the thick dark locks looking genuinely disheveled for once. Like he just had the fuck of his life, Heechul's mind supplies helpfully.
"Well, get out of it," Heechul snaps, because he's not about to deal with this whole shit just now. There is something eerily surreal about this discussion, not to mention the setting - a drunk Siwon in his bed and his clothes still on; it just makes no sense, no sense at all.
"Heechul."
His name sounds foreign as Siwon says it, enough to jolt Heechul out of his confused and rapidly confusing thoughts for the moment.
"Heechul."
"Don't call me that," he hisses, satisfied to see Siwon's barely noticeable flinch. "Don't ever call me that again."
Siwon sighs, a heavy sound whistling through between barely parted lips. "Sit down, why don't you."
"Don't order me around, we're not on the clock," Heechul grits, and then he sits with a petulant pout and a pounding heart, trying - in vain - not to touch Siwon in any way. "Now, should I strip or will you get out so I can do my job?"
"Heechul."
Heechul closes his eyes. It- this- he just can't deal with this now. "What?" he whispers. As if he didn't know.
"He sold it. He sold everything."
Heechul knew a lot of people have accused Choi Siwon of being emotionless through his life. Well, he thinks, they should hear him now.
"I know," he replies, surprised at how soft his voice sounds to his own ears.
"Everything," Siwon repeats, in a colorless tone only he would use when talking about his apparent future.
And it's suddenly painfully clear, it all is; Siwon, drunk off his ass, in his bed. Heechul kind of wishes he didn't understand, because the realization hurts more than anything Choi Siwon has ever done to make him miserable.
"What are you doing?" Siwon mutters, his gaze wary on Heechul's working hands.
"Don't talk," Heechul says simply, pulling his shirt over his head.
And Siwon doesn't. He doesn't say anything, doesn't move an inch - just watches Heechul with the same wary resignation as Heechul undresses; first himself, then Siwon. Siwon assists where he really needs to; sits up when Heechul tugs on his shirt, raises his arms when Heechul pulls the garment off, but there's none of his usual commanding presence, no heat in his eyes as they run over Heechul's bare skin.
"Lie back," Heechul says, close to Siwon's ear - close enough to kiss but without the actual touch of lips. He works Siwon's slacks open, slightly startled to find him hard despite everything. "You came here for this, right?"
Siwon doesn't reply. He doesn't need to. When Heechul takes him in his mouth, he tenses, his hands reaching for Heechul on instinct. Heechul lets him tangle strong fingers in his hair, lets him thrust into his mouth hard and fast. It's the least he can do.
Probably all he can do, come to think of it.
gloomy
