pikasu
in
crosswards
rise and fall (yoochun/changmin)
rise and fall l yoochun/changmin, pg, fluff, 1326w l for maxism12
changmin likes building things. yoochun tears them down.
changmin likes building things.
he builds his life around his beliefs, creates little models from scraps in his house: an eiffel tower, an igloo, a mini-stage. changmin relishes the challenge of crafting masterpieces out of nothing, like the walls around his heart, the mist in his eyes.
even so, everything built gives way to his life as a student. changmin goes to college majoring in medicine, for his parents. for their pride in him as a Shim.
it has always been for his parents.
so, there is no place for changmin's imagination to spill across research papers, no place for building things from his mind. science is about facts, about dissecting information like a sandcastle reduced to tiny grains of sand.
and changmin hates that.
-
in his second semester he meets yoochun - forehead too wide and hair too long it falls to his shoulders in soft curls. there is something about yoochun that unsettles changmin, so he keeps his walls up and his smile guarded.
yoochun is majoring in music, a field that would've left changmin's parents aghast. changmin cannot help but feel that he would've been disowned, if ever he picked the piano over the stethoscope. in the mornings he spots yoochun by the benches, eyes unfocused and finger waving in the air, as if he's conducting an orchestra. changmin will huff and pretend not to see the smile directed at him before he enters the building. inside though, he cannot stop the wistfulness teeming from his heart.
it would be nice to be free like that, he thinks.
-
hi.
that smile again. changmin frowns, annoyed at how much it unsettles him. his eyes flicker from his textbook to yoochun's teeth. he tries not to notice how white they are.
hi, he finally mumbles, before adverting back to his book.
why so serious?
changmin doesn't know why yoochun annoys him so much. the demolisher, that's what changmin secretly calls him. yoochun tore down his walls too easily.
if you hadn't noticed, i'm trying to study. it comes out too loud and too harsh for his liking.
a laugh.
okay then, yoochun says easily, smile perpetually plastered on his face. he leans forward and flicks changmin on the nose, ignoring his sound of protest, and slips pieces of paper underneath his book before sauntering away.
his laughter echoes persistently in changmin's ears, even after yoochun is gone.
-
you're no genius, thinks changmin to himself. you don't have time to get distracted.
this is what i want, he tries telling himself, ignores the way yoochun's smile is etched at the back of his mind. sometimes he hates how it takes so much to convince himself.
or perhaps he knows it's been a lie all along.
-
changmin examines the sheets of paper yoochun had given him soon after yoochun leaves. they're musical notes, a language changmin has long forgotten. there is a part of him that refuses to give in just then though. he heads back and cracks open his music book, dust thick on the covers from long absences of use. slowly, he builds the song on his own, one note after the other.
when he finishes, changmin plays it in his head. it's not a familiar tune, perhaps freshly composed by yoochun himself.
but, changmin thinks, it sounds a lot like freedom.
-
would you like to come for a concert?
his exams are in three weeks. there's no time to slack off. yet, one look at yoochun's spread hands and silly grin is enough for changmin to nod without hesitation.
the look he gets is enough for him to stop reconsidering his agreement.
you won't be disappointed!
changmin smiles as yoochun races off, whooping in glee. it's as if there has never been anything holding yoochun back, and that makes changmin a little jealous, a little wistful. still, he pushes these thoughts away. better concentrate on his major if he wants to graduate successfully.
-
the day of the concert brings about changmin in jitters. he doesn't know why he's so nervous. perhaps it's due to the fact that it's the first time he's ever done something like this. the first time he threw his studies aside for something he actually wants to do.
the ticket he receives from yoochun is a front row seat, and changmin cannot help but feel mildly embarrassed and awkward in his unused suit and flowers in his hand.
in all honesty, changmin doesn't expect much from the concert. he's been rather unimpressed (bored actually) since it started. in the presence of music, changmin begins thinking instead.
is this the life he wants?
the flowers fold a little when he unconsciously clenches his hands tighter. it pisses him off actually - how yoochun manages to find that loose stitch in his life and unravel everything, making changmin question his otherwise smooth sailing life.
when yoochun comes out, everything tumbles down.
-
changmin crashes into his house, flowers still in his hands and eyes wide in shock and frustration. he flings the flowers aside, kicks the nearby trashcan and lets out a frustrated growl. stupid yoochun, changmin curses. stupid yoochun and his stupid ability to rattle him so easily. stupid, stupid, stupid.
changmin had found himself fleeing from his seat even before the concert had ended, too derailed from his usual resolve to care. there had been something about yoochun's playing, like waves that crashed onto his skin, eroding the rocks that built his life till then. perhaps that's why he had fleed. without the rocks, there isn't anything else stopping him from falling.
the bed creaks when he collapses on it, breath coming out in pants and tears in his eyes. he wonders if it's already too late.
-
changmin coops himself up in his room for the next few days, building things from scratch. he sculpts miniature fruits from clay, an improved version of his eiffel tower and tries so very hard to build himself up again. then he writes, pens down all his confusion and frustration in the form of harsh scribbles and frantic cursive.
yoochun's music still echoes in his room from time to time, like his ears have become a seashell pressed against him, the sound of yoochun's piano at the back of his mind. there is little changmin can do except rip papers into shreds and resolutely carve grander things from scratch.
occasionally he glances at his books, medical terms stacked mountain high, at times overwhelming.
all he needed was a push.
-
it takes changmin another three days to come to a realization. he grabs a stack of paper and dashes out of his home, wind in his hair and wonder in his breath.
-
how was the concert-
changmin slams himself against yoochun, presses the papers in his hand and tugs at a stunned yoochun.
he brings yoochun into his house, catches the flowers wilting in the corner with the corner of his eyes. then gestures at the papers in yoochun's hands. read it, he says. yoochun is still stunned, but brings them to his eyes anyway, letting out a soft gasp at the sight of musical notes. his notes.
there is a fear in changmin's eyes, worry that yoochun wouldn't understand what he wants. for good measure, he shoves his medical textbooks to the far corner of his room and gestures at his table. sketches strewn across and mini sculptures lining the sides. the journal page is held down by his eiffel tower, je t'aime he wrote, large enough for yoochun to catch a glimpse of it. a music student always understands french after all.
i want to be free.
-
yoochun laughs, smiles that frustrating smile of his and presses close to changmin, capturing his lips there and then. but you already are, he whispers in between kisses.
changmin likes building things.
but he thinks it's okay for them to tumble down every once in awhile.
I FAIL IN LIFE T_T and totally unrelated but please watch how cute this little thing is
changmin likes building things. yoochun tears them down.
changmin likes building things.
he builds his life around his beliefs, creates little models from scraps in his house: an eiffel tower, an igloo, a mini-stage. changmin relishes the challenge of crafting masterpieces out of nothing, like the walls around his heart, the mist in his eyes.
even so, everything built gives way to his life as a student. changmin goes to college majoring in medicine, for his parents. for their pride in him as a Shim.
it has always been for his parents.
so, there is no place for changmin's imagination to spill across research papers, no place for building things from his mind. science is about facts, about dissecting information like a sandcastle reduced to tiny grains of sand.
and changmin hates that.
-
in his second semester he meets yoochun - forehead too wide and hair too long it falls to his shoulders in soft curls. there is something about yoochun that unsettles changmin, so he keeps his walls up and his smile guarded.
yoochun is majoring in music, a field that would've left changmin's parents aghast. changmin cannot help but feel that he would've been disowned, if ever he picked the piano over the stethoscope. in the mornings he spots yoochun by the benches, eyes unfocused and finger waving in the air, as if he's conducting an orchestra. changmin will huff and pretend not to see the smile directed at him before he enters the building. inside though, he cannot stop the wistfulness teeming from his heart.
it would be nice to be free like that, he thinks.
-
hi.
that smile again. changmin frowns, annoyed at how much it unsettles him. his eyes flicker from his textbook to yoochun's teeth. he tries not to notice how white they are.
hi, he finally mumbles, before adverting back to his book.
why so serious?
changmin doesn't know why yoochun annoys him so much. the demolisher, that's what changmin secretly calls him. yoochun tore down his walls too easily.
if you hadn't noticed, i'm trying to study. it comes out too loud and too harsh for his liking.
a laugh.
okay then, yoochun says easily, smile perpetually plastered on his face. he leans forward and flicks changmin on the nose, ignoring his sound of protest, and slips pieces of paper underneath his book before sauntering away.
his laughter echoes persistently in changmin's ears, even after yoochun is gone.
-
you're no genius, thinks changmin to himself. you don't have time to get distracted.
this is what i want, he tries telling himself, ignores the way yoochun's smile is etched at the back of his mind. sometimes he hates how it takes so much to convince himself.
or perhaps he knows it's been a lie all along.
-
changmin examines the sheets of paper yoochun had given him soon after yoochun leaves. they're musical notes, a language changmin has long forgotten. there is a part of him that refuses to give in just then though. he heads back and cracks open his music book, dust thick on the covers from long absences of use. slowly, he builds the song on his own, one note after the other.
when he finishes, changmin plays it in his head. it's not a familiar tune, perhaps freshly composed by yoochun himself.
but, changmin thinks, it sounds a lot like freedom.
-
would you like to come for a concert?
his exams are in three weeks. there's no time to slack off. yet, one look at yoochun's spread hands and silly grin is enough for changmin to nod without hesitation.
the look he gets is enough for him to stop reconsidering his agreement.
you won't be disappointed!
changmin smiles as yoochun races off, whooping in glee. it's as if there has never been anything holding yoochun back, and that makes changmin a little jealous, a little wistful. still, he pushes these thoughts away. better concentrate on his major if he wants to graduate successfully.
-
the day of the concert brings about changmin in jitters. he doesn't know why he's so nervous. perhaps it's due to the fact that it's the first time he's ever done something like this. the first time he threw his studies aside for something he actually wants to do.
the ticket he receives from yoochun is a front row seat, and changmin cannot help but feel mildly embarrassed and awkward in his unused suit and flowers in his hand.
in all honesty, changmin doesn't expect much from the concert. he's been rather unimpressed (bored actually) since it started. in the presence of music, changmin begins thinking instead.
is this the life he wants?
the flowers fold a little when he unconsciously clenches his hands tighter. it pisses him off actually - how yoochun manages to find that loose stitch in his life and unravel everything, making changmin question his otherwise smooth sailing life.
when yoochun comes out, everything tumbles down.
-
changmin crashes into his house, flowers still in his hands and eyes wide in shock and frustration. he flings the flowers aside, kicks the nearby trashcan and lets out a frustrated growl. stupid yoochun, changmin curses. stupid yoochun and his stupid ability to rattle him so easily. stupid, stupid, stupid.
changmin had found himself fleeing from his seat even before the concert had ended, too derailed from his usual resolve to care. there had been something about yoochun's playing, like waves that crashed onto his skin, eroding the rocks that built his life till then. perhaps that's why he had fleed. without the rocks, there isn't anything else stopping him from falling.
the bed creaks when he collapses on it, breath coming out in pants and tears in his eyes. he wonders if it's already too late.
-
changmin coops himself up in his room for the next few days, building things from scratch. he sculpts miniature fruits from clay, an improved version of his eiffel tower and tries so very hard to build himself up again. then he writes, pens down all his confusion and frustration in the form of harsh scribbles and frantic cursive.
yoochun's music still echoes in his room from time to time, like his ears have become a seashell pressed against him, the sound of yoochun's piano at the back of his mind. there is little changmin can do except rip papers into shreds and resolutely carve grander things from scratch.
occasionally he glances at his books, medical terms stacked mountain high, at times overwhelming.
all he needed was a push.
-
it takes changmin another three days to come to a realization. he grabs a stack of paper and dashes out of his home, wind in his hair and wonder in his breath.
-
how was the concert-
changmin slams himself against yoochun, presses the papers in his hand and tugs at a stunned yoochun.
he brings yoochun into his house, catches the flowers wilting in the corner with the corner of his eyes. then gestures at the papers in yoochun's hands. read it, he says. yoochun is still stunned, but brings them to his eyes anyway, letting out a soft gasp at the sight of musical notes. his notes.
there is a fear in changmin's eyes, worry that yoochun wouldn't understand what he wants. for good measure, he shoves his medical textbooks to the far corner of his room and gestures at his table. sketches strewn across and mini sculptures lining the sides. the journal page is held down by his eiffel tower, je t'aime he wrote, large enough for yoochun to catch a glimpse of it. a music student always understands french after all.
i want to be free.
-
yoochun laughs, smiles that frustrating smile of his and presses close to changmin, capturing his lips there and then. but you already are, he whispers in between kisses.
changmin likes building things.
but he thinks it's okay for them to tumble down every once in awhile.
I FAIL IN LIFE T_T and totally unrelated but please watch how cute this little thing is