On the Flip of a Coin (Flashfic Challenge 14: Seven)
Title: On the Flip of a Coin
Author: samikitty
Pairing: Yunho/Junsu
Word count: 1750
Concrit? Absolutely (but i apologize in advance for the POV issues i know are there)
Summary: Yunho and Junsu live life by the same principles, but somehow the process is different.
Author's Notes:
i hope i don't offend anyone's religious sensibilities! just my interpretations only. ^^;;; (also, this is my longest dbsk fic... i hope it turned out okay... ^^;;;;)
Like any good Catholic boy, Jung Yunho knew all about the seven deadly sins and he knew that it was his duty to avoid committing those sins.
Like any good Christian boy, Kim Junsu knew all about the seven heavenly virtues and he knew that it was his duty to live by those virtues.
It was a minor dichotomy, two sides of the same coin, really.
When Yunho first met Junsu, the younger boy was already a star in SM Entertainment. He was chosen personally by Kangta-sunbaenim, already heralded as the new voice of SM, and his smile lit up any room he entered. Everyone fawned over Junsu, and Yunho resented it. They were both trainees, after all, and Yunho felt that one should not be favoured over the other. So Yunho approached each training session with a burning competitive fire, a desire to take Junsu’s place at the top. Junsu, though, met new challenges with an earnest desire to simply do his best, to be the best. It was infuriating to Yunho who couldn’t understand how the other boy did not see that they were supposed to be trying to outdo one another, to keep the other from glory.
And when everyone finally acknowledged Yunho to be the better dancer, Yunho couldn’t help gloating. He popped and locked and breakdanced circles around Junsu every chance he got. Junsu grinned and clapped his hands happily, vocalizing his admiration with silly congratulatory songs and sweet words.
Sometimes he asked Yunho for help with particular moves that he found stylish or unique.
Yunho wanted to say ‘no,’ to keep his techniques to himself, and he didn’t see why he should have to put in extra time to help someone else improve their dancing, but Junsu would have this eager, adoring expression on his face… So while Yunho didn’t want to, he frequently found himself staying at the studio after hours dancing with Junsu.
Practicing with Junsu was hard work, harder than Yunho had expected. For someone with such an easygoing disposition, Junsu was an astoundingly harsh self-critic. Yunho could see him mentally berating himself for every off-beat gesture or misstep, a little metaphorical storm cloud forming over his head. Junsu, who only ever spoke words of encouragement to the other trainees regardless of their skill level, would mutter dark phrases and glower at each of his multiple reflections in the mirrored studio as he counted his steps again and again until blisters formed and Yunho was flat on his back ready to pass out from exhaustion. It had to be perfect or Junsu wasn’t going home.
It was tiresome, at times excruciatingly so, yet somehow by the end of every such session, both boys would be rolling on the ground laughing and joking and it was like the sun had come out again… even if it was way past midnight and they’d have to sneak back into their dorms.
Occasionally they’d stay out all night just because they could, a couple teenagers loitering around downtown Seoul for kicks.
Yunho would try to get them beers at the convenience store, sometimes successfully, sometimes not. He never failed to try though.
It was easier for Yunho who was almost six feet tall at the age of 17 to fool people into thinking he was of age. And he used it mercilessly to his advantage. Soon, weekends at the SM dorms were booked off for secret parties in Yunho’s room.
Junsu played lookout.
A tipsy lookout, maybe, but a lookout nevertheless.
Unfortunately, Junsu was never particularly good at this role. If he didn’t pass out somewhere along the way, the chaperone for the night would find him, chat him up, and somehow coax the boy into spilling the beans on his fellow trainees. He never meant to get the others in trouble, but it wasn’t in his nature to lie.
Actually, it was because he was a terrible liar.
When the other boys yelled at him for it, as they invariably did each time this happened, Junsu would argue back for a couple minutes, pointing out repeatedly that they shouldn’t be getting drunk in the dorm anyway. Yet, in the end, when the other boys were left with hurling insults at him, Junsu would just shrug and wander away, singing softly to himself.
Yunho once asked him, after apologizing profusely for his own behaviour, how Junsu could let those hurtful words slide like that. Junsu had easily replied that it was because he understood that this was just the way boys fought. Male pride burned hot, but fast, he said, and there was no sense holding resentment in your heart when the other party was bound to forget the entire incident by the end of the day. Having grown up with only a sister, Yunho conceded that maybe Junsu knew more about this kind of thing.
He watched as Junsu, smiling and humming a little tune, called his brother to yell at him for some random thing or another before bursting into happy laughter and telling him that he loved him.
It didn’t escape Yunho’s notice though that Junsu very rarely said ‘sorry’ after any kind of fight.
It wasn’t until they announced the debut of Dong Bang Shin Gi that Yunho heard Junsu’s honest, heartfelt apology for what must have been the first time. Yunho had been elated by the announcement, had congratulated his teammates, now groupmates, and rushed out to call his best friend to break the news. Certainly he’d felt some embarrassment about debuting before a couple of his seniors but he was certain that Heechul and the others would be happy for him.
Chattering excitedly into his cell phone, Yunho ducked into the emergency stairwell looking for some semblance of privacy.
Instead, he found Junsu crouched in a corner, curled up in a little ball, clutching his own phone to his ear and crying out ‘sorry’ to Hyukjae over and over, tears rolling down his smooth, round cheeks.
Ending his own call quickly, Yunho went to Junsu. Very gently he took Junsu’s phone from him. He spoke a couple words to Hyukjae himself and hung up after confirming that no one was mad at anyone else. Then he sat down next to Junsu on the cold cement floor, shoulder to shoulder, and waited.
After some time, Junsu stood up and Yunho followed suit. With his head still bowed, Junsu held out his hand for his phone. Rather than returning it to him, Yunho instead took Junsu’s hand in his. A few tear drops fell on their joined hands, but Yunho held on and the two of them stood together in silence.
When Junsu finally looked up at Yunho, eyes still wet, and red lips parted as he gasped quietly for breath, Yunho was struck by the thought that Junsu had never looked more beautiful.
Suddenly, almost inexplicably, Yunho leaned forward and pressed their lips together. His hand automatically lifted to slide along the smooth column of Junsu’s neck. He’d kissed girls before, Yunho had, and he knew what to do, how much pressure to apply, how to run his tongue across the other’s lips, how to invade and invite retaliation.
But Junsu wasn’t a lovesick girl and he didn’t seem to appreciate it when Yunho pressed against him, hip to hip.
It wasn’t a hard push, but to Yunho, it might as well have been a solid punch. He stumbled backwards, breaking all physical contact with Junsu.
Junsu’s eyes were wide, unreadable, and Yunho looked away, before he gave in to temptation and surged forward to recapture those soft lips again.
He waited for what felt like an eternity, certain of the hateful words that would now come spilling out from Junsu’s pretty mouth.
The silence stretched out for so long that Yunho was forced to look up, curious.
Junsu’s expression was so gentle.
“We shouldn’t,” he said, one hand hovering by his mouth, just shy of touching his lips.
Yunho wanted to rip that hand away and press his lips to Junsu’s once more. He wanted to make Junsu kiss him back. He wanted to do more than just kiss.
He wanted to cry.
Then Junsu reached out and pulled Yunho into a tight hug. He pressed his nose against Yunho’s collarbone and held Yunho tight, stroking his head where it rested on his shoulder. He made soft, soothing noises. He hummed muddled fragments of songs, Fly to the Sky’s, Shinhwa’s, some unidentifiable melody.
They stayed like that for what must have been an hour.
Though it remained unspoken, it was clear that it couldn’t be more than this between them.
Yunho didn’t cry after all, but he stored the memory of their kiss in the deepest part of his heart. He mentally promised not to push Junsu for more, never to pursue the matter further without Junsu’s invitation. It would all end here because that’s what Junsu wanted, because Junsu was that much stronger than he was.
Because they shouldn’t, as Junsu’d said.
Years later, Yunho would remember every moment that the two of them shared from that point forward. He’d remember every tiny gesture, movement, smile that he took and Junsu gave. He’d remember each time he shifted closer to Junsu so that Junsu would lean on him first when he doubled over in laughter. He’d remember each time he slapped Junsu’s arm to get Junsu to slap him back or to get him to hang onto him and beg forgiveness. He’d remember each time he slung an arm causally over Junsu’s shoulders and each time he held Junsu’s face in his hands.
If Junsu ever noticed that Yunho hung on just a little bit longer than necessary, or that his fingers slid a little further than strictly acceptable, Junsu never protested. He leaned toward Yunho when Yunho was there asking to be leaned on. He reached out to hit or clutch Yunho’s arm when Yunho invited such touches. And his eyes shone extra bright whenever Yunho held Junsu’s face in his hands their gazes met.
Like any good Catholic boy, Jung Yunho knew all about the seven deadly sins and he knew that it was inevitable that he’d have to ask forgiveness for each and every one of those sins.
Like any good Christian boy, Kim Junsu knew all about the seven heavenly virtues and he knew that it was inevitable that he’d have to ask for help to uphold each and every one of those virtues.
Author: samikitty
Pairing: Yunho/Junsu
Word count: 1750
Concrit? Absolutely (but i apologize in advance for the POV issues i know are there)
Summary: Yunho and Junsu live life by the same principles, but somehow the process is different.
Author's Notes:
i hope i don't offend anyone's religious sensibilities! just my interpretations only. ^^;;; (also, this is my longest dbsk fic... i hope it turned out okay... ^^;;;;)
Like any good Catholic boy, Jung Yunho knew all about the seven deadly sins and he knew that it was his duty to avoid committing those sins.
Like any good Christian boy, Kim Junsu knew all about the seven heavenly virtues and he knew that it was his duty to live by those virtues.
It was a minor dichotomy, two sides of the same coin, really.
When Yunho first met Junsu, the younger boy was already a star in SM Entertainment. He was chosen personally by Kangta-sunbaenim, already heralded as the new voice of SM, and his smile lit up any room he entered. Everyone fawned over Junsu, and Yunho resented it. They were both trainees, after all, and Yunho felt that one should not be favoured over the other. So Yunho approached each training session with a burning competitive fire, a desire to take Junsu’s place at the top. Junsu, though, met new challenges with an earnest desire to simply do his best, to be the best. It was infuriating to Yunho who couldn’t understand how the other boy did not see that they were supposed to be trying to outdo one another, to keep the other from glory.
And when everyone finally acknowledged Yunho to be the better dancer, Yunho couldn’t help gloating. He popped and locked and breakdanced circles around Junsu every chance he got. Junsu grinned and clapped his hands happily, vocalizing his admiration with silly congratulatory songs and sweet words.
Sometimes he asked Yunho for help with particular moves that he found stylish or unique.
Yunho wanted to say ‘no,’ to keep his techniques to himself, and he didn’t see why he should have to put in extra time to help someone else improve their dancing, but Junsu would have this eager, adoring expression on his face… So while Yunho didn’t want to, he frequently found himself staying at the studio after hours dancing with Junsu.
Practicing with Junsu was hard work, harder than Yunho had expected. For someone with such an easygoing disposition, Junsu was an astoundingly harsh self-critic. Yunho could see him mentally berating himself for every off-beat gesture or misstep, a little metaphorical storm cloud forming over his head. Junsu, who only ever spoke words of encouragement to the other trainees regardless of their skill level, would mutter dark phrases and glower at each of his multiple reflections in the mirrored studio as he counted his steps again and again until blisters formed and Yunho was flat on his back ready to pass out from exhaustion. It had to be perfect or Junsu wasn’t going home.
It was tiresome, at times excruciatingly so, yet somehow by the end of every such session, both boys would be rolling on the ground laughing and joking and it was like the sun had come out again… even if it was way past midnight and they’d have to sneak back into their dorms.
Occasionally they’d stay out all night just because they could, a couple teenagers loitering around downtown Seoul for kicks.
Yunho would try to get them beers at the convenience store, sometimes successfully, sometimes not. He never failed to try though.
It was easier for Yunho who was almost six feet tall at the age of 17 to fool people into thinking he was of age. And he used it mercilessly to his advantage. Soon, weekends at the SM dorms were booked off for secret parties in Yunho’s room.
Junsu played lookout.
A tipsy lookout, maybe, but a lookout nevertheless.
Unfortunately, Junsu was never particularly good at this role. If he didn’t pass out somewhere along the way, the chaperone for the night would find him, chat him up, and somehow coax the boy into spilling the beans on his fellow trainees. He never meant to get the others in trouble, but it wasn’t in his nature to lie.
Actually, it was because he was a terrible liar.
When the other boys yelled at him for it, as they invariably did each time this happened, Junsu would argue back for a couple minutes, pointing out repeatedly that they shouldn’t be getting drunk in the dorm anyway. Yet, in the end, when the other boys were left with hurling insults at him, Junsu would just shrug and wander away, singing softly to himself.
Yunho once asked him, after apologizing profusely for his own behaviour, how Junsu could let those hurtful words slide like that. Junsu had easily replied that it was because he understood that this was just the way boys fought. Male pride burned hot, but fast, he said, and there was no sense holding resentment in your heart when the other party was bound to forget the entire incident by the end of the day. Having grown up with only a sister, Yunho conceded that maybe Junsu knew more about this kind of thing.
He watched as Junsu, smiling and humming a little tune, called his brother to yell at him for some random thing or another before bursting into happy laughter and telling him that he loved him.
It didn’t escape Yunho’s notice though that Junsu very rarely said ‘sorry’ after any kind of fight.
It wasn’t until they announced the debut of Dong Bang Shin Gi that Yunho heard Junsu’s honest, heartfelt apology for what must have been the first time. Yunho had been elated by the announcement, had congratulated his teammates, now groupmates, and rushed out to call his best friend to break the news. Certainly he’d felt some embarrassment about debuting before a couple of his seniors but he was certain that Heechul and the others would be happy for him.
Chattering excitedly into his cell phone, Yunho ducked into the emergency stairwell looking for some semblance of privacy.
Instead, he found Junsu crouched in a corner, curled up in a little ball, clutching his own phone to his ear and crying out ‘sorry’ to Hyukjae over and over, tears rolling down his smooth, round cheeks.
Ending his own call quickly, Yunho went to Junsu. Very gently he took Junsu’s phone from him. He spoke a couple words to Hyukjae himself and hung up after confirming that no one was mad at anyone else. Then he sat down next to Junsu on the cold cement floor, shoulder to shoulder, and waited.
After some time, Junsu stood up and Yunho followed suit. With his head still bowed, Junsu held out his hand for his phone. Rather than returning it to him, Yunho instead took Junsu’s hand in his. A few tear drops fell on their joined hands, but Yunho held on and the two of them stood together in silence.
When Junsu finally looked up at Yunho, eyes still wet, and red lips parted as he gasped quietly for breath, Yunho was struck by the thought that Junsu had never looked more beautiful.
Suddenly, almost inexplicably, Yunho leaned forward and pressed their lips together. His hand automatically lifted to slide along the smooth column of Junsu’s neck. He’d kissed girls before, Yunho had, and he knew what to do, how much pressure to apply, how to run his tongue across the other’s lips, how to invade and invite retaliation.
But Junsu wasn’t a lovesick girl and he didn’t seem to appreciate it when Yunho pressed against him, hip to hip.
It wasn’t a hard push, but to Yunho, it might as well have been a solid punch. He stumbled backwards, breaking all physical contact with Junsu.
Junsu’s eyes were wide, unreadable, and Yunho looked away, before he gave in to temptation and surged forward to recapture those soft lips again.
He waited for what felt like an eternity, certain of the hateful words that would now come spilling out from Junsu’s pretty mouth.
The silence stretched out for so long that Yunho was forced to look up, curious.
Junsu’s expression was so gentle.
“We shouldn’t,” he said, one hand hovering by his mouth, just shy of touching his lips.
Yunho wanted to rip that hand away and press his lips to Junsu’s once more. He wanted to make Junsu kiss him back. He wanted to do more than just kiss.
He wanted to cry.
Then Junsu reached out and pulled Yunho into a tight hug. He pressed his nose against Yunho’s collarbone and held Yunho tight, stroking his head where it rested on his shoulder. He made soft, soothing noises. He hummed muddled fragments of songs, Fly to the Sky’s, Shinhwa’s, some unidentifiable melody.
They stayed like that for what must have been an hour.
Though it remained unspoken, it was clear that it couldn’t be more than this between them.
Yunho didn’t cry after all, but he stored the memory of their kiss in the deepest part of his heart. He mentally promised not to push Junsu for more, never to pursue the matter further without Junsu’s invitation. It would all end here because that’s what Junsu wanted, because Junsu was that much stronger than he was.
Because they shouldn’t, as Junsu’d said.
Years later, Yunho would remember every moment that the two of them shared from that point forward. He’d remember every tiny gesture, movement, smile that he took and Junsu gave. He’d remember each time he shifted closer to Junsu so that Junsu would lean on him first when he doubled over in laughter. He’d remember each time he slapped Junsu’s arm to get Junsu to slap him back or to get him to hang onto him and beg forgiveness. He’d remember each time he slung an arm causally over Junsu’s shoulders and each time he held Junsu’s face in his hands.
If Junsu ever noticed that Yunho hung on just a little bit longer than necessary, or that his fingers slid a little further than strictly acceptable, Junsu never protested. He leaned toward Yunho when Yunho was there asking to be leaned on. He reached out to hit or clutch Yunho’s arm when Yunho invited such touches. And his eyes shone extra bright whenever Yunho held Junsu’s face in his hands their gazes met.
Like any good Catholic boy, Jung Yunho knew all about the seven deadly sins and he knew that it was inevitable that he’d have to ask forgiveness for each and every one of those sins.
Like any good Christian boy, Kim Junsu knew all about the seven heavenly virtues and he knew that it was inevitable that he’d have to ask for help to uphold each and every one of those virtues.