Call

[dainuhsoar]

title: Call
rating: g
pairing: dongwoon x kikwang
wordcount: 1.588

summary: dongwoon wakes up to a call from his umma. cue fluff and no plot.
*

            a phone on the bedside drawer buzzes. it doesn't stop buzzing until son dongwoon sticks a hand out from under the blanket, shoves the tissue box and his pair of glasses off the tabletop in search for the phone, and finally grabs the vibrating object. he fumbles with the touch screen a little, the bright light blinding him and making him squint.

            umma.

            dongwoon drags the green button across the screen and his voice is gravelly when he says, "hello?"

            "dongwoon-ah!"

            dongwoon blinks and tries to refocus his mind, which is still drifting back to sleep. he wriggles into a sitting position and leans back against the headboard. his eyes slip close and he loses contact with the world for a moment before his umma says his name again.

            "yes? why are you calling at this hour?" he yawns and doesn't bother hiding it. but the figure next to him shifts slightly and dongwoon purses his lips, reminding himself to keep his volume down.

            "oh, were you sleeping? i keep forgetting the time difference!" dongwoon's umma titters. "i'm sorry. do you want to go back to sleep? i'll call back later!"

            "no, it's fine." dongwoon says, smiling when kikwang snorts particularly loudly as he flips over in his sleep. "how's everything back in Korea? i heard there was a really heavy rain yesterday. what, a few trees fell over?"

            "yes, but we're alright! your appa and i stayed at home yesterday, drinking tea and watching dramas. i was watching dramas, anyway. he was snoring. dongha stayed over at his friend's house."

            dongwoon's umma continues talking about their yesterday and dongwoon listens, puncturing with 'hm?'s and 'really?'s whenever she pauses. he keeps an eye on kikwang, who flips over again so his back faces dongwoon. dongwoon watches the curve of kikwang's arms, muscular and soft, rise and fall as he breathes.

            the bedroom is dark, would be pitch black if not for the crack in the curtains, where orange light from streets outside stream in. the light casts a perfect orange horizontal stripe across kikwang's nape. dongwoon's hand lingers next to kikwang's nape before he makes a thumbs-up sign, pressing his fist into the soft mattress and then pressing his thumb into kikwang's skin carefully. he lets his thumb slide against the smooth skin and touch the short strands of hair. kikwang shivers.

            dongwoon tugs the blanket higher, covering kikwang's bare shoulders, before retracting his hand. "really?" dongwoon murmurs into the phone. "yeah, it did. it rained a few days back. just a light drizzle. don't expect much rain in the summer."

            "it's easy to fall sick in such weather! are you taking of yourself?"

            "yeah, i'm fine."

            "then are you taking care of kikwang?"

            dongwoon's umma carries on about how she knows how easy kikwang gets cold, how kikwang's nose is sensitive and turns red in the cold, how kikwang needs to avoid some food because he says he's trying a new diet (which reminds dongwoon of when he kissed kikwang's arm as he told kikwang how wonderful and gorgeous and utterly glorious he already is so he could just forget about the diet and kikwang had blushed a wonderful pink, blotchy red at his cheeks and down his neck to his chest), as if kikwang is her own son. she does have quite a fond crush for kikwang.

            she knitted him a sweater before they left for America. a pale beige one that is slightly too big for kikwang. she said he could grow into it as if he was still a pubescent teenager. but he had smiled with his eyes and a dimple in his cheek and tugged the sweater over his shirt at the airport. and he had turned to dongwoon for approval before beaming and turning back to dongwoon's umma. dongwoon smiled at kikwang's back, he wanted to pull him in and rub his cheek against kikwang's cheek like a sated kitten because god, at whatever age – six, thirteen, twenty-three – kikwang is absolutely adorable and letting him walk around in that oversized sweater with its sleeves so long only the tips of his fingers peek out- it should be crime, shouldn't it?

            and dongwoon had turned to kikwang's umma and she had the same loving-teary-aw-he's-all-grown-up look on dongwoon's umma's face. she caught dongwoon's eye and she smiled at him knowingly. kikwang has the same eye smiles as his umma.

            "hm?" dongwoon hums. "oh, yeah, we did. i'll email you the pictures in the morning. it was fun- we had fun. hm? oh, he bought lots of magnets. he's stupid. he said all the magnets are too nice, he couldn't decide on just one so he bought a whole lot."

            as if having heard dongwoon call him stupid, kikwang snorts and sniffs again, twitching backward a little. dongwoon smiles, leaving his thumb against kikwang's cool nape again. he brushes down once, twice- kikwang shivers again.

            "he wouldn't like it if you called him stupid, dongwoon-ah," dongwoon's umma chuckles anyway. "oh! i just remembered! kikwang's umma said he forgot to bring his handphone charger with him, how did that turn out?"

            "oh, yeah. we take turns using the charger now." dongwoon explains. "anyway, bills are expensive, we may as well conserve as much electricity as we can."

            when they touched down in America and settled into the apartment they are renting, kikwang had ripped bags open in search of his phone charger. he made a mess of everything, including dongwoon's bags. and the lack of sleep and jetlag made dongwoon cranky. it didn't make things better when kikwang whined and leaned over dongwoon on the sofa, complaining about how long it took for dongwoon's phone to charge and why did he forget to bring his charger? dongwoon had snapped at him to "stop whining. it's not my fault you're stupid enough to forget your charger."

            he remembers the hurt and embarrassment in kikwang's glare. they had a small tiff that ended in kikwang pushing away from dongwoon and marching off into their bedroom. it was only the first day and there were still boxes on the wooden kitchen table to unpack. dongwoon's anger had walked away with kikwang's steps and all he felt was the blankness at his side and the itch of silence in his ears. he had got off the sofa, climbed into bed with kikwang and murmured apologies against kikwang's neck.

            "really? is that how it works?" dongwoon asks. "i'll be sure to tell kikwang."

            "is he still asleep? i want to talk to him."

            "he's still asleep. but umma, what will you talk to him about? you only asked about kikwang and i've told you all about it. what else do you want to know?" dongwoon says. "you know, i'm feeling pretty hurt that you don't care about me. i just might cry, umma."

            he hears his umma chuckle and he smiles. "fine, how are you doing, dongwoon-ah? are you used to the food? did you find anything new? are you happy?"

            dongwoon hears the wistful smile in her voice. for all it's worth, dongwoon's umma has put up a strong front. she knows this and dongwoon knows this – she just wants to hear dongwoon's voice again. how easy is it to just let your son, who has lived with you for his entire life, leave for- well, for what seems like forever? it's only been three months but three months is forever. it only took two weeks for dongwoon to feel homesick, after all.

            he had his head on kikwang's lap and he was holding a book over him, trying to concentrate on the words instead of the hardness of kikwang's thigh or the spinning of his head because of the position. kikwang was using one hand to repeatedly brush back the bangs on dongwoon's forehead and the other to hold his own book. and then dongwoon closed his book without marking the page and said, "i just realized there are only two toothbrushes left."

            kikwang also put his book down, eyebrows raised in question. "what?"

            "for years, i've been using the same bathroom as my parents. my toothbrush will always be the red one, appa's is the yellow one and umma's is the orange one. we put our toothbrushes in the same cup. and every morning, every night, every time i brush my teeth, i'll always count 'one-two-three' – three toothbrushes. but now there are only two left. only two. because i took my toothbrush with me."

            kikwang had pursed his lips and almost smiled amusedly at the tears threatening at dongwoon's eyes. "there are also two toothbrushes in the cup in our bathroom, you know." he says. "the pink one is mine and the red one is yours."

            dongwoon had laughed and the tears came out. but his laugh was genuine and muffled by kikwang's lips.

            "i'm doing great, umma." dongwoon says, grinning. kikwang moans softly as he turns over. there's a bit of drool leaking from the corner of his lips, his eyes are puffy, his cheeks and lips are swollen, and his hair is a mess. but he's gorgeous anyway. he slinks onto dongwoon and grabs the phone from him. he yawns out a "good morning." into the phone and rests his body heavily on dongwoon's lap.

            i'm happy.

            kikwang grins lazily at dongwoon and begins to tell dongwoon's umma "yes, i'm taking good care of him. yes, he's eating well. yes, he's dressing well." as dongwoon's thumb brushes against kikwang's nape, secure and warm and soft.

            ---