Length: One-shot, ~1400w.
Genre: Romance/Angst/Fluff idek
Summary: What do you see when you're in love; when you're not in love; when you're falling in love? Jaejoong wants to know what Yunho sees. (Yunho sees everyone and everything but Jaejoong)
Disclaimer: Don't own any of the people, nor anything except the plot (or lack thereof)
Rant: This is rather disjointed, but it sort of fits with the atmosphere I want :) It was hard to get into because I had no inspiration after being very sick for a week and make-up exams the following week :( I'm sorry. But nevertheless, this is for hell_angel_v2 /Gian because it's her birthday and I love her so so so much. Gian, thank you for everything ♥ Here you go-- have subtle-but-obvious!Jaejoong and clueless-but-not-quite!Yunho :)
I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be
Laughing on a park bench, thinking to myself
Hey, isn't this easy?
~'You Belong With Me', Taylor Swift
90 Days into our future
March signals the start of a chaotic schedule for Dong Bang Shin Ki that year.
Yunho is sitting at the dining table with white paper dusted in black ink covering every inch of the visible space. The new moon is melting a handful of hours before dawn against the dark sky outside. The atmosphere around him greets him with silence save for a momentary beep of a distant car and somewhere in the house a clock ticks time away. Yunho runs a hand through his hair and eyes the jumble of words in front of him that's a mixture of interviews, rehearsals, recordings and appearances. The pile seems to be looming and he hopes he'll be able to see some table space by morning.
A hand rests on his shoulder (his heart jumps a beat too slow) and a cup of steaming black coffee is placed in front of him.
How about a drink? Jaejoong picks up a stray sheet of interviews from his pile.
Thanks. He takes a sip of coffee which sooths his dry throat. He puts the cup down and watches the liquid surface ripple dark swirls. Jaejoong bends down next to him and together their reflections mirror distorted ripples back at them. It was rather hypnotizing, kind of like abstract art that makes more sense to peoples' hearts than their eyes.
What do you see? Jaejoong whispers into his ear, as if any louder it'll break the imaginary web of entrancement.
Yunho pauses and blinks. The moment breaks like glass on tiles.
Jaejoong hits the side of his head and laughs. Stop working so hard, Leader-sshi.
And he leaves.
Summer tours speak of muscle pains, too much singing and too little sleep.
The second midnight flight in twenty-four hours has most people dozing off before the plane even took flight. Yunho hides a grin at the sight in the row behind his, where Junsu has his head tucked neatly on Yoochun's shoulder and Changmin (mumbling something about doriyaki) has his--tipping, tipping--precariously in Junsu's direction. A cough to his left bring his attention back.
A sight to behold, isn't it?
Yunho watches Jaejoong doodle on a fancy napkin he pinched from the 5-star hotel they had stayed at in Thailand. He doodles deformed shapes and disconnected words that's probably recycled lyrics which didn't fit into his newest song. Yunho watches raw art come to life-- two eyes, a crooked nose, a wide 'U' for a mouth.
Yeah, quite amazing.
The stick figure on the napkin finds a twin penned next to it. Jaejoong places it in Yunho's hands.
What do you see?
Yunho pauses and tastes the beauty of innocence on the tip of his tongue he doesn't know how to voice.
Jaejoong just smiles that smile of his-- a secret that paints clarity.
But Yunho probably missed the intersecting lines in the middle.
Windy days has never been a favourite.
But they're fine if the sun is out, Yunho believes. He is lying on fresh cut lawn, half in the shadows drawn out by the giant oak tree, and half letting the sun paint rays of gold on him. He closes his eyes to feel the tiny spikes of grass tickling his back; to feel the air of calamity sketching patterns of rest on his shoulders; to hear the other four around him breathe sounds of life; to feel what must be heaven on earth.
No, that's Doraemon!
Shut up, it's most definitely a duck!
Your face is a duck!
A nudge brings him out of his serene meditation (or what's left of). Yunho looks to his right, but Jaejoong isn't looking at him. Instead, he's pointing to the bunch of shapeless grey clouds above them.
Hey Yunho, what do you see?
Yunho pauses and it feels something akin to déjà vu. But he blinks and he answers.
Looks like rain.
Jaejoong doesn't speak to him for the rest of the day. (And it rains)
Three days before Christmas and not a little too late to be five again.
Yunho drags Jaejoong--bundled up in layers and mittens--away in the middle of rehearsal and together they drive (Yunho had wanted to take him to the four corners of the earth; to London, to Australia, to the North Pole, to Canada) out to the middle of nowhere. With the snow for audience and sky for witness, Yunho feels like he's out to prove the world to Jaejoong.
They wander through soft snow (their toes freezing in their shoes), passing by trees with tiny snowflakes hanging off bare branches, to the edge of what appears to be a lake frozen with beauty and time.
(Ice crystals of something magical, Jaejoong breathes in his ear. Then I'll build you a castle made of ice, Yunho says. I want fifty servants, Jaejoong taunts, all smart and smiles. Then I'll build fifty snowmen, Yunho promises a mouthful of miracles. They laugh non-stop. The sound melts their hearts like sunshine.)
Jaejoong bends down and taps the ice with his knuckles and a Cheshire grin was all the warning he gives before he pulls Yunho, tumbling like dominoes onto the icy surface. They steady each other by the arms for a second, then Jaejoong lets go to slide through over the surface with imaginary skates on and a pocketful of courage. He spins around Yunho, then pauses to point at the clear, mirror-like ice they're standing on.
Yunho, what do you see?
Yunho's breath hitches in his throat when the question resounds familiarity and second chances in his ear. He sees reflections--the mysterious wonder that is Jaejoong, eyeing hope at the cold, frozen surface, and... himself, chained at the arms, almost like an image of forever. Almost.
It's that smile again when Jaejoong darts away to slide across the ice again, a tango for one. It's the same smile that Yunho chases after and slips to (off his feet). He feels something break--most definitely not his heart (of course not)--and he knows he isn't doing this right. The cold of the ice seeps into his jeans. Yunho draws a finger down a faint crack in the ice, tracing the jagged lines carefully as if it represented the breaking of something precious. He looks up, straight into the eyes of Jaejoong and laughs something sheepish. He hopes it isn't too late for Spring.
I'm missing something, aren't I?
Jaejoong stares back unblinkingly for a long moment before holding out a hand; reaching for--
Maybe, just a little bit.
Yunho takes it.
Another year comes around and it's Spring again. Jaejoong takes him to a flower-viewing festival just before their next list of schedules are due to be released.
It's like a little forest, except instead of green, it's pink. And it's only the colour of light blush that rains from the sky in small torrents of feather-like touches that skim across his skin. Yunho thinks it looks like a picturesque image of raining pink love-hearts in slow motion. And the air is a little bit brighter than midnight coffee breaks, a little more exciting than after-tour summer flights, a little calmer than windy, fall days, and whole lot warmer than an icy rendezvous in the middle of nowhere.
Jaejoong leads him down a path of scattered trails of petals and stops to twirl around. He faces Yunho with his arms in the air; embracing a world for two.
So, what do you see now?
Yunho pauses and vows not to fall for the same trick twice (five times). He eyes the clear, blue sky; eyes the forest of pink, eyes the fluttering of birds circling through tree branches like clockwork; eyes the mischievous smile on Jaejoong's face, the spark of promises in his eyes that are epitomes of Spring, of new beginnings, of the first time he asked that question, of hearts meeting halfway, of...
I see March.
A hand slips into his.
I knew you would.
And it continues to sprinkle pink love-hearts on parachutes of hope.
A/N: Hi! :D Ah, March. Lucky northern hemisphere people who gets to see Spring! Re: the title, the 90th day of the year is March 31st, which is usually the start of Hanami/flower-viewing season in Spring. And Spring is the epitome of blossoming flowers, maybe love. (If you're still confused, click) Well, anyway, I hope I wrote okay this time round. And happy birthday to hell_angel_v2 /Gian! Special mentions of Doriyaki, Doraemon and Canada are all for you, bb! Thank you for not thinking my writing is trash
Feedback/comments are very much appreciated! Thank you for dropping by! ♥