Fic: Mother's Day
May. 11th, 2008 10:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Mother's Day
Rating: PG-13
Author:
virginangelic
Genre: Crack
Pairing: Eeteuk-centric. Implied Kangteuk.
Summary: The SJ boys decides to surprise Eeteuk for Mother's Day.
A/N: It's Mother's Day. How can there not be a fic dedicated to the band umma? Enjoy and please, do read and review!
Rating: PG-13
Author:
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Genre: Crack
Pairing: Eeteuk-centric. Implied Kangteuk.
Summary: The SJ boys decides to surprise Eeteuk for Mother's Day.
A/N: It's Mother's Day. How can there not be a fic dedicated to the band umma? Enjoy and please, do read and review!
Mother's Day
Sunlight filters through the blinds as a young man stirs from his slumber. He searches for his cell phone – he frowns when he realizes that the battery has died. Sure, he's half-asleep but he is very certain that he has charged his cell overnight. This makes the issue utterly puzzling but he isn’t ready to contemplate the possible reasons why – his head is spinning.
It is then that he realizes that he hasn’t switched on the main switch and proceeds to do so. He smiles contently when it lights up. He decides to grab some breakfast first, fearing a possible gastric problem, seeing how he had been too tired to eat dinner the night before and had headed straight for bed.
Rubbing sleep off his eyes, he yawns as he steps out of his shared bedroom with Heechul, who has already left…
STOP.
Since when was Heechul ever out of bed anytime before noon? He grabs his phone to check the time – it is only eight a.m.
Eeteuk feels his heart skipping a beat. He backtracks slowly, warily – was there some kind of hidden camera prank being played on him? Locking the door, he starts checking every nook and cranny for some kind of wire, a microphone, anything. After thirty long minutes of checking everything (in which time, he’s found his missing heart necklace behind the drawers), he takes a deep breath before venturing into the unknown psychedelic hell that is Heechul’s closet. He slides open the closet doors, praying nothing falls on him.
Piles upon piles of neatly folded clothing in every colour imaginable greets him, stacked neatly on top of each other whilst the flashier pieces hang next to each other on a rod that is groaning under the weight of all the clothes.
And he proceeds to shut the entire closet – there is no way anyone would risk their lives just to place a stupid hidden camera in Heechul’s wardrobe. There just isn’t any space left for anything unless Heechul decides to donate some of his clothes to charity – which was not going to happen anytime soon. (Not to mention it would be futile since the latter was prone to shopping for clothes the moment he sees any available space in his closet)
He looks around their bedroom and decides on a baseball bat KangIn left the last time he came over as his weapon and utters a quick prayer before stepping out into the silent apartment.
“Yehsung?”
There is no response.
“Min?”
There is no response.
“Donghee?”
There is no response.
He calls each and every one of his boys by their full names to no avail. He feels a shiver down his spine when he heard the wind chimes tinkling in the distance.
“Stay calm…stay calm…stay calm…”
He hurries to each bedroom, muttering to himself in a bid to stay calm as he makes his way to the first bedroom (eventually running and stumbling as he find all the bedrooms empty).
He resists the urge to scream but the experienced mother hen in him knows, just knows that they're playing 'Sardines' again. Why he has to be ‘IT’, he has no idea but he decides to let them suffocate a little while more in the storeroom; all crammed and huddled against each other. He casually walks into the kitchen where a spread of food, now slightly cool, greets him.
He brings each dish close to his nose, sniffing the food before deciding to sample the hotcakes nearest to him. Cutting himself a small piece, he chews slowly, hoping, praying that it does not ooze or taste rancid. He is mildly surprised that it tastes…good. He decides to take two whole hotcakes, drizzled in honey, relishing their goodness. He feels mildly guilty but decides it makes up for yesterday when he ran 70 whole kilometres. His feet are still aching but at least, he thinks, it’s for a good cause.
He hasn’t tasted such great pancakes since… that last time Sungmin and Donghae or was it Shiwon and Heechul (he couldn't remember) attempted to cook and they had been forced to buy some from that café when the kitchen…oh god. He scuttles to the kitchen, desperately hoping that there was no sticky mess on the floor or worse, a blown up kitchen. He lets loose a sigh of relief at the sight that greets him – he hasn’t realised that he has been holding his breath the entire time. The kitchen is spotless with the dishes and cutleries placed in their respective places. He decides on a whim to brush his finger across the counter and it makes him disturbed.
It is too clean.
He opens the refrigerator and the cupboards, certain that there are some hidden clues as to how the kitchen could be so clean, only to find more puzzling cases. The refrigerator seems as though it could have come out from some film set – everything was neatly arranged in Tupperware boxes.
He feels dizzy.
He reminds himself to check the storeroom. Inching as silently as he could, he grabs the handle and flings open the door.
“I’ve found you!”
He blinks when no laughter or moans of complains greets him. The storeroom, like the rest of the apartment, is empty.
What the hell is happening? Where is everyone? And why the hell is the place so clean?
He decides to head towards his bedroom, convinced that he's in some lucid dream where things are picture perfect. He decides to lie down and closes his eyes, counting to ten before he opens them.
The apartment was still the way it was – strange, clean, and quiet.
In an apartment full of hyperactive boisterous boys, he isn't sure if it is a blessing in disguise.
So he decides to count to a hundred this time.
But things remains the same – the apartment feels cold and empty: He decides to pinch himself. Hard. And that leads him to the conclusion that this is real; that he is not asleep – he is very much awake. The mere thought of it terrifies him greatly.
He proceeds to call KangIn, pacing up and down the hallway, waiting for the other man to pick up.
“Yeobeosayoh? KangIn?”
His call gets rejected. He attempts to contact KangIn and later the rest of the boys, including the ones in China. He is unable to contact anyone of them. He frowns, wondering if this was all some kind of elaborate prank.
He proceeds to dial one of the managers, only to be told that none of the boys have schedules that day and to enjoy the ‘special day off’. He could almost hear the older man wink, if that is humanely possible.
He proceeds to make himself a pot of tea, certain he needs more than a cup, glancing at the hands of the clock every few seconds. He ponders what his manager means with his cryptic words but soon he starts to imagine the worse. He toys with the idea of calling up all the hospitals in Korea to enquire if any of his boys has been admitted.
Two pots of tea, one tub of Ben & Jerry’s and plenty of pacing about later, he finally hears some footsteps.
He rushes to the door and opens it only to find out it’s just one of the neighbours going out of the apartment.
It is the last straw.
He decides to take a quick shower and decides to go to the other dorms to check if the boys are there instead.
In his worried state of mind, he doesn’t see the tiny card stuck on the refrigerator (Really, a forgivable act considering how the refrigerator has so many reminders stuck on them.)
“Enjoy your special day Umma!”
****
It is close to seven p.m. when he returns home. The boys are still nowhere to be seen. He has checked the nearby shopping malls (in the likely event that the boys had been dragged by Heechul), the park and the other places that he knows the boys like to go. Even Kibum’s and KangIn’s places are empty. His heart feels heavy, his mind burdened by thoughts. His feet are screaming in agony. He feels slightly nauseous. He reminds himself that he cannot file a missing person’s report just yet – he’s still got more than ten hours before he can do so. He feels slightly light-headed as he punches in the security code when his phone buzzes away.
“Youngwoon calling.”
“Teukie!”
He hears the younger man grinning amidst a chaotic background. He reckons he hears Heechul, Eunhyuk and Shindong. Pressing the phone closely to his ears, he thinks he can hear Yehsung. He doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or pissed off.
“KIM YOUNGWOON! WHY DID YOU REJECT MY CALLS?! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?! WHERE THE HELL ARE THE BOYS?! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU…”
He steps into the darkened apartment and switches on the lights.
“HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!”
He is quickly enveloped in a loud, tearful group hug by all seven of his boys who are in Korea before he hears bags being dropped and he is crushed by seven other boys, all clamouring for his attention.
“Umma, why aren’t you saying anything?”
The room is unexpectedly silent – everyone holds their breaths, awaiting his reply.
“You’ve all got ten seconds to run before I kick all of your asses for making me worry like a mad woman, I mean, man.”
“You’re kidding right Umma?”
“Does it look like I’m kidding?!”
A loud, unanimous chorus of “YES!” drowns him out.
Eeteuk grumbles – he has no idea how they always manage to see past his pretences every time.
“Wait…where’s Shin…”
“The food!”
“YAH!”
Eeteuk smiles as the apartment is once again filled with the sounds of his boisterous boys.
“Youngwoon?”
“Yes Angel?”
“Thanks.”
Kangin grins impishly.
“Let’s see you top this act for Father’s Day!”
Counter Stats

melbourne dry cleaners Counter
Sunlight filters through the blinds as a young man stirs from his slumber. He searches for his cell phone – he frowns when he realizes that the battery has died. Sure, he's half-asleep but he is very certain that he has charged his cell overnight. This makes the issue utterly puzzling but he isn’t ready to contemplate the possible reasons why – his head is spinning.
It is then that he realizes that he hasn’t switched on the main switch and proceeds to do so. He smiles contently when it lights up. He decides to grab some breakfast first, fearing a possible gastric problem, seeing how he had been too tired to eat dinner the night before and had headed straight for bed.
Rubbing sleep off his eyes, he yawns as he steps out of his shared bedroom with Heechul, who has already left…
STOP.
Since when was Heechul ever out of bed anytime before noon? He grabs his phone to check the time – it is only eight a.m.
Eeteuk feels his heart skipping a beat. He backtracks slowly, warily – was there some kind of hidden camera prank being played on him? Locking the door, he starts checking every nook and cranny for some kind of wire, a microphone, anything. After thirty long minutes of checking everything (in which time, he’s found his missing heart necklace behind the drawers), he takes a deep breath before venturing into the unknown psychedelic hell that is Heechul’s closet. He slides open the closet doors, praying nothing falls on him.
Piles upon piles of neatly folded clothing in every colour imaginable greets him, stacked neatly on top of each other whilst the flashier pieces hang next to each other on a rod that is groaning under the weight of all the clothes.
And he proceeds to shut the entire closet – there is no way anyone would risk their lives just to place a stupid hidden camera in Heechul’s wardrobe. There just isn’t any space left for anything unless Heechul decides to donate some of his clothes to charity – which was not going to happen anytime soon. (Not to mention it would be futile since the latter was prone to shopping for clothes the moment he sees any available space in his closet)
He looks around their bedroom and decides on a baseball bat KangIn left the last time he came over as his weapon and utters a quick prayer before stepping out into the silent apartment.
“Yehsung?”
There is no response.
“Min?”
There is no response.
“Donghee?”
There is no response.
He calls each and every one of his boys by their full names to no avail. He feels a shiver down his spine when he heard the wind chimes tinkling in the distance.
“Stay calm…stay calm…stay calm…”
He hurries to each bedroom, muttering to himself in a bid to stay calm as he makes his way to the first bedroom (eventually running and stumbling as he find all the bedrooms empty).
He resists the urge to scream but the experienced mother hen in him knows, just knows that they're playing 'Sardines' again. Why he has to be ‘IT’, he has no idea but he decides to let them suffocate a little while more in the storeroom; all crammed and huddled against each other. He casually walks into the kitchen where a spread of food, now slightly cool, greets him.
He brings each dish close to his nose, sniffing the food before deciding to sample the hotcakes nearest to him. Cutting himself a small piece, he chews slowly, hoping, praying that it does not ooze or taste rancid. He is mildly surprised that it tastes…good. He decides to take two whole hotcakes, drizzled in honey, relishing their goodness. He feels mildly guilty but decides it makes up for yesterday when he ran 70 whole kilometres. His feet are still aching but at least, he thinks, it’s for a good cause.
He hasn’t tasted such great pancakes since… that last time Sungmin and Donghae or was it Shiwon and Heechul (he couldn't remember) attempted to cook and they had been forced to buy some from that café when the kitchen…oh god. He scuttles to the kitchen, desperately hoping that there was no sticky mess on the floor or worse, a blown up kitchen. He lets loose a sigh of relief at the sight that greets him – he hasn’t realised that he has been holding his breath the entire time. The kitchen is spotless with the dishes and cutleries placed in their respective places. He decides on a whim to brush his finger across the counter and it makes him disturbed.
It is too clean.
He opens the refrigerator and the cupboards, certain that there are some hidden clues as to how the kitchen could be so clean, only to find more puzzling cases. The refrigerator seems as though it could have come out from some film set – everything was neatly arranged in Tupperware boxes.
He feels dizzy.
He reminds himself to check the storeroom. Inching as silently as he could, he grabs the handle and flings open the door.
“I’ve found you!”
He blinks when no laughter or moans of complains greets him. The storeroom, like the rest of the apartment, is empty.
What the hell is happening? Where is everyone? And why the hell is the place so clean?
He decides to head towards his bedroom, convinced that he's in some lucid dream where things are picture perfect. He decides to lie down and closes his eyes, counting to ten before he opens them.
The apartment was still the way it was – strange, clean, and quiet.
In an apartment full of hyperactive boisterous boys, he isn't sure if it is a blessing in disguise.
So he decides to count to a hundred this time.
But things remains the same – the apartment feels cold and empty: He decides to pinch himself. Hard. And that leads him to the conclusion that this is real; that he is not asleep – he is very much awake. The mere thought of it terrifies him greatly.
He proceeds to call KangIn, pacing up and down the hallway, waiting for the other man to pick up.
“Yeobeosayoh? KangIn?”
His call gets rejected. He attempts to contact KangIn and later the rest of the boys, including the ones in China. He is unable to contact anyone of them. He frowns, wondering if this was all some kind of elaborate prank.
He proceeds to dial one of the managers, only to be told that none of the boys have schedules that day and to enjoy the ‘special day off’. He could almost hear the older man wink, if that is humanely possible.
He proceeds to make himself a pot of tea, certain he needs more than a cup, glancing at the hands of the clock every few seconds. He ponders what his manager means with his cryptic words but soon he starts to imagine the worse. He toys with the idea of calling up all the hospitals in Korea to enquire if any of his boys has been admitted.
Two pots of tea, one tub of Ben & Jerry’s and plenty of pacing about later, he finally hears some footsteps.
He rushes to the door and opens it only to find out it’s just one of the neighbours going out of the apartment.
It is the last straw.
He decides to take a quick shower and decides to go to the other dorms to check if the boys are there instead.
In his worried state of mind, he doesn’t see the tiny card stuck on the refrigerator (Really, a forgivable act considering how the refrigerator has so many reminders stuck on them.)
“Enjoy your special day Umma!”
****
It is close to seven p.m. when he returns home. The boys are still nowhere to be seen. He has checked the nearby shopping malls (in the likely event that the boys had been dragged by Heechul), the park and the other places that he knows the boys like to go. Even Kibum’s and KangIn’s places are empty. His heart feels heavy, his mind burdened by thoughts. His feet are screaming in agony. He feels slightly nauseous. He reminds himself that he cannot file a missing person’s report just yet – he’s still got more than ten hours before he can do so. He feels slightly light-headed as he punches in the security code when his phone buzzes away.
“Youngwoon calling.”
“Teukie!”
He hears the younger man grinning amidst a chaotic background. He reckons he hears Heechul, Eunhyuk and Shindong. Pressing the phone closely to his ears, he thinks he can hear Yehsung. He doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or pissed off.
“KIM YOUNGWOON! WHY DID YOU REJECT MY CALLS?! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?! WHERE THE HELL ARE THE BOYS?! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU…”
He steps into the darkened apartment and switches on the lights.
“HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!”
He is quickly enveloped in a loud, tearful group hug by all seven of his boys who are in Korea before he hears bags being dropped and he is crushed by seven other boys, all clamouring for his attention.
“Umma, why aren’t you saying anything?”
The room is unexpectedly silent – everyone holds their breaths, awaiting his reply.
“You’ve all got ten seconds to run before I kick all of your asses for making me worry like a mad woman, I mean, man.”
“You’re kidding right Umma?”
“Does it look like I’m kidding?!”
A loud, unanimous chorus of “YES!” drowns him out.
Eeteuk grumbles – he has no idea how they always manage to see past his pretences every time.
“Wait…where’s Shin…”
“The food!”
“YAH!”
Eeteuk smiles as the apartment is once again filled with the sounds of his boisterous boys.
“Youngwoon?”
“Yes Angel?”
“Thanks.”
Kangin grins impishly.
“Let’s see you top this act for Father’s Day!”
Counter Stats
melbourne dry cleaners Counter
no subject
Date: 2008-05-12 02:02 pm (UTC)