Lizard
Title: Lizard
Author: countingcr0ws
Pairing/ Characters: Yunjae
Rating: PG
Form: One-shot
Genre: AR, Lucid, Slice-of-Life
Summary: Yunho finds himself in a relationship with the frontman of a rock band who lives on the edge of life for his art.
Inspired by: Lizard by Banana Yoshimoto
We didn't have a television in the house. I had grown up without watching much programs, and when I noticed our lack of the appliance, Jaejoong had replied that we couldn't afford it anyway.
We sat on the couch, our fingers interlaced as the quiet moments slipped pass. Moving closer before pressing his face into the curve of my neck, there was a whisper of him breathing in deeply as he slowly relaxed against me. I used to think that he was trying to fall asleep, but he would always emerge quickly, relaxed and refreshed before continuing with his business.
I'd like to think that he was taking a moment for himself. Or maybe, he was centring his innate instability. Knowing Jaejoong, it was probably a mix of both.
- - - - -
I first met Jaejoong in the rain.
I was on the way home, a street away from the dance studio that was located in a relatively trendy and vibrant corner of the town. The wind had been incredibly strong that day, and I remember trying to wrestle with the wind for control of my umbrella.
A puddle had built up at the pedestrian crossing, and I was staring at the reflection of the advertisements on the water, fidgeting impatiently in my wet shoes when I looked up at the lights, at Jaejoong. Jaejoong was a peculiar sight that day, standing in the rain without an umbrella, the wet, pale curve of his nape glinting under the ligh, hair was matted to his neck, a lone forlorn figure.
I remember stepping up to shield him, instinctively freezing as our eyes met, the dull brown orbs devoid of any emotions boring a hole into my soul.
Only later, did I come to know that that was the day his married lover had left him.
- - - - -
Jaejoong was the vocals, and the leader of a popular underground indie rock band. Despite being approached by many companies, the group had turned down all of the offerings. I sometimes thought that a contract was a leash that would prevent him from living vicariously on the edge.
- - - - -
"I have something to tell you," he said as he pulled away, his face blank and composed. I looked up at him in worry, my heart tight at the various outcomes of the conversation. Was he hungry? Was he ill? Was he leaving?
I reached for his hands, only for them to be pulled away.
"Jae, are you okay?" I interrupted the silence as my fingers fell, conscious of crossing the invisible boundary he had drawn.
"Yeah," he assured as he nodded distractedly. "I mean, yes. Yes, I'm okay. But I wanted to tell you that I've went out, with-" he gestured approximately with his hand with a light frown. "We went out again."
- - - - -
In the quiet nights between broken whispers, I had listened to fragmented recounts of the emotions and moments of an extramarital affair.
"The mantra is to not get too attached. But whenever we came together, it was like a meeting of two lost souls. Blinding and fiery, too much to give up. I could never keep my heart away." He would relate them with an inconsolable loneliness, his wiry arms wrapped around his folded legs, looking everywhere but me.
"The knowing that it was temporary amplified every single emotion, and I swung between extremes of depression and exhilaration. Did the end come too soon or too late? I've been torn between both answers, but there were moments where I really thought that I would emerge victorious." He would talk about nights spent waiting in futility for the arrival of his lover, a cooling spread of dishes before him; and the simple joy when the other spent the weekends with him.
I could only listen, but I'd like to think that our relationship was just as special, and that we were just as obviously made for each other.
- - - - -
I could feel my heart sink, a slow drop of disappointment at his confession as it descended like a viscous fluid in a jar; to lie at the bottom of my ribs, bare and vulnerable. Jaejoong was an enigma to me, distant but clingy; cold, but loveable.
- - - - -
I was leaving the gym's changing room when I saw Jaejoong the second time. He had distinct features that distinguished him from the crowd, and together with the way he carried himself, the split second in the rainy day had seared him into my memory. I felt my soul ache when our eyes met. I wanted to touch him, to feel the tactility of his skin against mine. I wanted to touch him so badly that I was sure that I would lose my mind if I didn't.
So I did. I touched his hand. That was the first time that I had asked him out.
He accepted.
- - - - -
"I received a call a few days ago. It was just supposed to be a meeting," he explained as I traced the grain of the floor with my eyes, a frown pressed onto my brows. "I think, one of my greatest fallacies as an artist is that I have to keep my heart open for the wounds to bleed." He shifted to face me properly.
"It was what I needed; what my songs needed. A heady mix of extremities, of despair and exhilaration. I think that I was in love once. When we first met-" he gestured vaguely as he talked about his previous lover.
"I dreamt of us being together. It's a little ridiculous, me wishing for such things. So I must really have been in love with him then." My ears burnt at his confession, and I felt like the unloved middle child. I was being cast aside. I wanted to throw a tantrum, to demand for the level of attention that I never had.
There was a sad smile on his lips, and I wanted to comfort him, but who would comfort me? "I found myself being swept up once more when I saw him. There's a force, a chemistry between us that causes the senses to precede the feelings." He paused to reach for my hands. I pulled away without looking up.
"Only five percent of such couples end up together," he continued as I watched his fingers curl on his lap. "Sometimes it's just a casual fling. Sometimes it’s due to the stress on either parties. Sometimes-" he fell silent as the unfinished sentence hung in the air. I looked up in curiosity when he didn't continue.
"But sometimes," he said quietly, his eyes resolute. "They finally meet the person truly meant for them." He leaned in slowly, the eartnest sadness in his eyes flickering as he paused, before continuing when I didn't move to press a kiss to the corner of my lips.
"I've never been with a person this way. I came to you without any want or desire, but you've slowly filled every crevice in my heart with your brand of love. You make me want to be better, to be happy. To make you happy." He closed his eyes as he searched for the words to continue, reminding me of a ripple in a pond. He was the centre of the wavelet, quickly stretching across space as he groped for the shard of memory in his mind. His eyes seemed to have the sparkle of the galaxies when he opened them, and I wanted to ask what he had seen.
"I've been happy, Yunho. I've been happier than I've ever been in a long time, and you're the cause of it. You've made me realise for the first time that my career and happiness aren't mutually exclusive events. That I deserve to be loved, and to love somebody without the insecurity of being replaced."
"I love you, Yunho," he said with a whisper as he shifted, a hand on my shoulder as he pressed me down with a kiss, his eyes glinting with happiness as he surfaced. Looking at him, my heart felt full, and I knew that nothing could ever get better. Combing my fingers through his hair, I laid on top of him as I pressed light kisses onto his skin. Our relationship really wasn't like that of the normal. It often felt like we had reached the end.
We were like the plants in an artificial ecosystem, reliant on each other, but with no possibilities of growth. I still found myself being enchanted by him because he felt so transient, but he was the warmth and comfort that I sought for in the dark. When we clung onto each other, licking each other wounds as we shifted instinctively to find the best angles to fit together through the stages of life, it sometimes occurred to me that we acted too much like an elderly couple.
It didn't feel like much, but I'd like to think that our relationship was special, that we were made for each other.
- - - - -
A/N: I'm in Romania. The sim card I spent my moneys on doesn't work, and I need an adapter for my laptop, but but here's a quiet story for you anyway. I've been wanting to write this for a long time as a tribute to the fantastic book, and I hope that it was okay.
For mb_lucified who makes me feel like my writing's worth a little something.
I'm trying to write more during this holiday break. Leave a comment if you fancy, and I'm sorry for the title.
Author: countingcr0ws
Pairing/ Characters: Yunjae
Rating: PG
Form: One-shot
Genre: AR, Lucid, Slice-of-Life
Summary: Yunho finds himself in a relationship with the frontman of a rock band who lives on the edge of life for his art.
Inspired by: Lizard by Banana Yoshimoto
We didn't have a television in the house. I had grown up without watching much programs, and when I noticed our lack of the appliance, Jaejoong had replied that we couldn't afford it anyway.
We sat on the couch, our fingers interlaced as the quiet moments slipped pass. Moving closer before pressing his face into the curve of my neck, there was a whisper of him breathing in deeply as he slowly relaxed against me. I used to think that he was trying to fall asleep, but he would always emerge quickly, relaxed and refreshed before continuing with his business.
I'd like to think that he was taking a moment for himself. Or maybe, he was centring his innate instability. Knowing Jaejoong, it was probably a mix of both.
- - - - -
I first met Jaejoong in the rain.
I was on the way home, a street away from the dance studio that was located in a relatively trendy and vibrant corner of the town. The wind had been incredibly strong that day, and I remember trying to wrestle with the wind for control of my umbrella.
A puddle had built up at the pedestrian crossing, and I was staring at the reflection of the advertisements on the water, fidgeting impatiently in my wet shoes when I looked up at the lights, at Jaejoong. Jaejoong was a peculiar sight that day, standing in the rain without an umbrella, the wet, pale curve of his nape glinting under the ligh, hair was matted to his neck, a lone forlorn figure.
I remember stepping up to shield him, instinctively freezing as our eyes met, the dull brown orbs devoid of any emotions boring a hole into my soul.
Only later, did I come to know that that was the day his married lover had left him.
- - - - -
Jaejoong was the vocals, and the leader of a popular underground indie rock band. Despite being approached by many companies, the group had turned down all of the offerings. I sometimes thought that a contract was a leash that would prevent him from living vicariously on the edge.
- - - - -
"I have something to tell you," he said as he pulled away, his face blank and composed. I looked up at him in worry, my heart tight at the various outcomes of the conversation. Was he hungry? Was he ill? Was he leaving?
I reached for his hands, only for them to be pulled away.
"Jae, are you okay?" I interrupted the silence as my fingers fell, conscious of crossing the invisible boundary he had drawn.
"Yeah," he assured as he nodded distractedly. "I mean, yes. Yes, I'm okay. But I wanted to tell you that I've went out, with-" he gestured approximately with his hand with a light frown. "We went out again."
- - - - -
In the quiet nights between broken whispers, I had listened to fragmented recounts of the emotions and moments of an extramarital affair.
"The mantra is to not get too attached. But whenever we came together, it was like a meeting of two lost souls. Blinding and fiery, too much to give up. I could never keep my heart away." He would relate them with an inconsolable loneliness, his wiry arms wrapped around his folded legs, looking everywhere but me.
"The knowing that it was temporary amplified every single emotion, and I swung between extremes of depression and exhilaration. Did the end come too soon or too late? I've been torn between both answers, but there were moments where I really thought that I would emerge victorious." He would talk about nights spent waiting in futility for the arrival of his lover, a cooling spread of dishes before him; and the simple joy when the other spent the weekends with him.
I could only listen, but I'd like to think that our relationship was just as special, and that we were just as obviously made for each other.
- - - - -
I could feel my heart sink, a slow drop of disappointment at his confession as it descended like a viscous fluid in a jar; to lie at the bottom of my ribs, bare and vulnerable. Jaejoong was an enigma to me, distant but clingy; cold, but loveable.
- - - - -
I was leaving the gym's changing room when I saw Jaejoong the second time. He had distinct features that distinguished him from the crowd, and together with the way he carried himself, the split second in the rainy day had seared him into my memory. I felt my soul ache when our eyes met. I wanted to touch him, to feel the tactility of his skin against mine. I wanted to touch him so badly that I was sure that I would lose my mind if I didn't.
So I did. I touched his hand. That was the first time that I had asked him out.
He accepted.
- - - - -
"I received a call a few days ago. It was just supposed to be a meeting," he explained as I traced the grain of the floor with my eyes, a frown pressed onto my brows. "I think, one of my greatest fallacies as an artist is that I have to keep my heart open for the wounds to bleed." He shifted to face me properly.
"It was what I needed; what my songs needed. A heady mix of extremities, of despair and exhilaration. I think that I was in love once. When we first met-" he gestured vaguely as he talked about his previous lover.
"I dreamt of us being together. It's a little ridiculous, me wishing for such things. So I must really have been in love with him then." My ears burnt at his confession, and I felt like the unloved middle child. I was being cast aside. I wanted to throw a tantrum, to demand for the level of attention that I never had.
There was a sad smile on his lips, and I wanted to comfort him, but who would comfort me? "I found myself being swept up once more when I saw him. There's a force, a chemistry between us that causes the senses to precede the feelings." He paused to reach for my hands. I pulled away without looking up.
"Only five percent of such couples end up together," he continued as I watched his fingers curl on his lap. "Sometimes it's just a casual fling. Sometimes it’s due to the stress on either parties. Sometimes-" he fell silent as the unfinished sentence hung in the air. I looked up in curiosity when he didn't continue.
"But sometimes," he said quietly, his eyes resolute. "They finally meet the person truly meant for them." He leaned in slowly, the eartnest sadness in his eyes flickering as he paused, before continuing when I didn't move to press a kiss to the corner of my lips.
"I've never been with a person this way. I came to you without any want or desire, but you've slowly filled every crevice in my heart with your brand of love. You make me want to be better, to be happy. To make you happy." He closed his eyes as he searched for the words to continue, reminding me of a ripple in a pond. He was the centre of the wavelet, quickly stretching across space as he groped for the shard of memory in his mind. His eyes seemed to have the sparkle of the galaxies when he opened them, and I wanted to ask what he had seen.
"I've been happy, Yunho. I've been happier than I've ever been in a long time, and you're the cause of it. You've made me realise for the first time that my career and happiness aren't mutually exclusive events. That I deserve to be loved, and to love somebody without the insecurity of being replaced."
"I love you, Yunho," he said with a whisper as he shifted, a hand on my shoulder as he pressed me down with a kiss, his eyes glinting with happiness as he surfaced. Looking at him, my heart felt full, and I knew that nothing could ever get better. Combing my fingers through his hair, I laid on top of him as I pressed light kisses onto his skin. Our relationship really wasn't like that of the normal. It often felt like we had reached the end.
We were like the plants in an artificial ecosystem, reliant on each other, but with no possibilities of growth. I still found myself being enchanted by him because he felt so transient, but he was the warmth and comfort that I sought for in the dark. When we clung onto each other, licking each other wounds as we shifted instinctively to find the best angles to fit together through the stages of life, it sometimes occurred to me that we acted too much like an elderly couple.
It didn't feel like much, but I'd like to think that our relationship was special, that we were made for each other.
- - - - -
A/N: I'm in Romania. The sim card I spent my moneys on doesn't work, and I need an adapter for my laptop, but but here's a quiet story for you anyway. I've been wanting to write this for a long time as a tribute to the fantastic book, and I hope that it was okay.
For mb_lucified who makes me feel like my writing's worth a little something.
I'm trying to write more during this holiday break. Leave a comment if you fancy, and I'm sorry for the title.