Yoochun's Forehead - 1/1
Yoochun's Forehead. (yoochun/junsu)
400 words. G
Junsu has a wonderful imagination. Sometimes, it's just hard for him to express that sort of creativity.
yoochun's forehead is huge. junsu knows that they joke about it all the time, but it really is enormous. it's large and sloping and hard with the bone underneath but soft with the skin on top and quite comfortable to hold. should yoochun's head ever become dislocated (though god bless the thought), junsu is quite sure he'd carry it back by the forehead and not the hair.
"what are you staring at?"
"your forehead," junsu answers automatically, too deep in thought to filter the brain to mouth process.
yoochun frowns and pushes his bangs over it. "what."
"can i just like..." junsu tries, arm stretching out in front of him, head tilted forty-three degrees and eyes squinting. "you know, just kind of..."
"what," yoochun says again, but he doesn't move and junsu finally gets his hand near enough so that he can close his hand over his brow. his index finger to pinky fill his head perfectly, from brow to hairline, and he can feel the furrow in yoochun's eye. he suddenly closes his hand into a fist and raps twice against the bone, grinning at the satisfying, hollow thunk that responds.
"fuck, ow! what was that for?" he gripes, clutching at his head.
"ah, yoochun, you're in such a bad mood right now," junsu sings, replaying the rhythm of his knuckles against bone over and over in his mind. he continues to daydream about yoochun's forehead. if he were really tiny, he could make a trip out of climbing from one temple to the other, having a lunch with his back to one of his hairs and placing his ears on all the moles to see if anything like a heartbeat will respond. or he could draw a soccer field and set up some goals, kick around a ball of skin until he's too tired or yoochun wakes up. or he could wait until yoochun's actually sleeping one day and colour the entire thing in with permanent marker, just to see how long it'd take him and what his reaction would be when he woke up. a dreamy smile drifts over his face, enjoying the possibilities.
"you're terrifying, junsu," he says, frown creating wrinkles between his eyes as he gets up from the sofa and heads into the kitchen.
"i love your forehead," junsu says in response, and yoochun will never understand the sincerity behind those words.
--
` does anyone actually ever understand you? / dum da dum.
400 words. G
Junsu has a wonderful imagination. Sometimes, it's just hard for him to express that sort of creativity.
yoochun's forehead is huge. junsu knows that they joke about it all the time, but it really is enormous. it's large and sloping and hard with the bone underneath but soft with the skin on top and quite comfortable to hold. should yoochun's head ever become dislocated (though god bless the thought), junsu is quite sure he'd carry it back by the forehead and not the hair.
"what are you staring at?"
"your forehead," junsu answers automatically, too deep in thought to filter the brain to mouth process.
yoochun frowns and pushes his bangs over it. "what."
"can i just like..." junsu tries, arm stretching out in front of him, head tilted forty-three degrees and eyes squinting. "you know, just kind of..."
"what," yoochun says again, but he doesn't move and junsu finally gets his hand near enough so that he can close his hand over his brow. his index finger to pinky fill his head perfectly, from brow to hairline, and he can feel the furrow in yoochun's eye. he suddenly closes his hand into a fist and raps twice against the bone, grinning at the satisfying, hollow thunk that responds.
"fuck, ow! what was that for?" he gripes, clutching at his head.
"ah, yoochun, you're in such a bad mood right now," junsu sings, replaying the rhythm of his knuckles against bone over and over in his mind. he continues to daydream about yoochun's forehead. if he were really tiny, he could make a trip out of climbing from one temple to the other, having a lunch with his back to one of his hairs and placing his ears on all the moles to see if anything like a heartbeat will respond. or he could draw a soccer field and set up some goals, kick around a ball of skin until he's too tired or yoochun wakes up. or he could wait until yoochun's actually sleeping one day and colour the entire thing in with permanent marker, just to see how long it'd take him and what his reaction would be when he woke up. a dreamy smile drifts over his face, enjoying the possibilities.
"you're terrifying, junsu," he says, frown creating wrinkles between his eyes as he gets up from the sofa and heads into the kitchen.
"i love your forehead," junsu says in response, and yoochun will never understand the sincerity behind those words.
--
` does anyone actually ever understand you? / dum da dum.