once (and again)
ot5
angst
g
677 words
No one can forget how it feels to love someone. It might slip your mind now and then, in the ongoing flash of lights and sounds and voices of people you need to pretend to care for but if you just reach back, dust off the tops, it'll all come back easily enough.
You loved Junsu, once. You had accidentally bumped shoulders with him in the hallway, you on the way to dance practice and Junsu clutching a half filled water bottle, back from a vocal class. "Sorry," you had said, slightly horrified as you watched the bottle roll away. "I didn't mean to."
Junsu had smiled in return and that had been the start. One smile, one sightly raspy "It's okay," and two hands from two different people reaching for the same thing. "Sorry," he had said instead this time and you had thought "Hey, it's okay."
It's been okay since then, but you've just never had the chance to tell him.
You loved Changmin, once. He had towered over you in a way that could only be described as profoundly annoying but it was endearing in a way as well, how he would stoop just a little towards you when you spoke. Either that or tell you to get a stool to stand on.
Changmin-love was a sort of crazy that was set apart from the rest. Waking up at 3:45am in the morning to teach him how to use the new stove properly because you couldn't stand the sound of him cursing and banging pots around. Pressing a tissue into his hand as you passed him by after Tokyo Dome ended because he wasn't the sort to ask for one.
"Still two more times, right?" he had said, palming the slightly crumpled tissue without even a flinch.
"Two more?"
"Times a man cries in his life, god, how can you say something one day and forget the next?"
He remembers the oddest things, too. One night when the apartment kitchen smelled like slightly burnt ramen, you might have said I love you, Changmin. Once upon a time. If you can look him in the eye again, you'd probably ask him if he remembers that.
You just hope that he forgives easier than he forgets.
You loved Yoochun, once. Before all of this, back when you used to room with him in that godforsaken little dorm and he’d try to get you to push your beds together. “Yoohwan did it back in the States,” was the excuse he gave but you didn’t need to hear one, it wasn’t like you were one to deny Yoochun anything anyways whenever he was in this sort of mood.
It’d take ages for him to fall asleep those nights and if talking didn’t work, you’d end up sneaking out onto the balcony with him to smoke a pack, coming back buzzed from the nicotine high and chilled from the 23rd storey wind. “Thanks,” he’d mumble from under the sheets. Your sheets, actually; the lack of food and sleep meant Yoochun stayed colder for longer than you.
“Don’t mention it.”
So Yoochun doesn’t after that, but he shares his coffee with you on mornings when you’re too tired to move and get your own.
“Don’t mention it,” he had told you back with the sort of smile you thought you could get used to seeing, as caffeine spiked as it might be. And you don’t. It doesn’t stop you from wishing you could have, though, this among other things.
You must have loved Yunho once as well.
Maybe more than once, maybe many, many times. Sometimes, you think you still do.
When an unknown number on your cell wakes you up in the middle of the night, when you see the back of someone who might have been a person you used to love and you can’t help wondering what if but the phone rings on, the crowd shifts. It’s back to the 2am quiet. Strangers on the street.
Yunho loved you once, too, and that makes all the difference.
fin.
A/N- Hi. Not back, drabbled on two separate occasions with at least a month between both while listening to a Yellow cover by Jem and In Heaven from the JYJ boys. :D Posted for funzies.
angst
g
677 words
No one can forget how it feels to love someone. It might slip your mind now and then, in the ongoing flash of lights and sounds and voices of people you need to pretend to care for but if you just reach back, dust off the tops, it'll all come back easily enough.
You loved Junsu, once. You had accidentally bumped shoulders with him in the hallway, you on the way to dance practice and Junsu clutching a half filled water bottle, back from a vocal class. "Sorry," you had said, slightly horrified as you watched the bottle roll away. "I didn't mean to."
Junsu had smiled in return and that had been the start. One smile, one sightly raspy "It's okay," and two hands from two different people reaching for the same thing. "Sorry," he had said instead this time and you had thought "Hey, it's okay."
It's been okay since then, but you've just never had the chance to tell him.
You loved Changmin, once. He had towered over you in a way that could only be described as profoundly annoying but it was endearing in a way as well, how he would stoop just a little towards you when you spoke. Either that or tell you to get a stool to stand on.
Changmin-love was a sort of crazy that was set apart from the rest. Waking up at 3:45am in the morning to teach him how to use the new stove properly because you couldn't stand the sound of him cursing and banging pots around. Pressing a tissue into his hand as you passed him by after Tokyo Dome ended because he wasn't the sort to ask for one.
"Still two more times, right?" he had said, palming the slightly crumpled tissue without even a flinch.
"Two more?"
"Times a man cries in his life, god, how can you say something one day and forget the next?"
He remembers the oddest things, too. One night when the apartment kitchen smelled like slightly burnt ramen, you might have said I love you, Changmin. Once upon a time. If you can look him in the eye again, you'd probably ask him if he remembers that.
You just hope that he forgives easier than he forgets.
You loved Yoochun, once. Before all of this, back when you used to room with him in that godforsaken little dorm and he’d try to get you to push your beds together. “Yoohwan did it back in the States,” was the excuse he gave but you didn’t need to hear one, it wasn’t like you were one to deny Yoochun anything anyways whenever he was in this sort of mood.
It’d take ages for him to fall asleep those nights and if talking didn’t work, you’d end up sneaking out onto the balcony with him to smoke a pack, coming back buzzed from the nicotine high and chilled from the 23rd storey wind. “Thanks,” he’d mumble from under the sheets. Your sheets, actually; the lack of food and sleep meant Yoochun stayed colder for longer than you.
“Don’t mention it.”
So Yoochun doesn’t after that, but he shares his coffee with you on mornings when you’re too tired to move and get your own.
“Don’t mention it,” he had told you back with the sort of smile you thought you could get used to seeing, as caffeine spiked as it might be. And you don’t. It doesn’t stop you from wishing you could have, though, this among other things.
You must have loved Yunho once as well.
Maybe more than once, maybe many, many times. Sometimes, you think you still do.
When an unknown number on your cell wakes you up in the middle of the night, when you see the back of someone who might have been a person you used to love and you can’t help wondering what if but the phone rings on, the crowd shifts. It’s back to the 2am quiet. Strangers on the street.
Yunho loved you once, too, and that makes all the difference.
fin.
A/N- Hi. Not back, drabbled on two separate occasions with at least a month between both while listening to a Yellow cover by Jem and In Heaven from the JYJ boys. :D Posted for funzies.