Lighters and Cardboard Cut-Outs - Oneshot
Title: Lighters and Cardboard Cut-Outs
Author: kayjayloves
Chapter: 1/1
Pairing: Jaechun
Band: DBSK/THSK/TVXQ
Genre: romance
Rating: PG13
Warning: cussing xD
Disclaimer: 'fraid I don't own these loves.
Synopsis: Jaejoong’s an inevitable comfort; with his hands to lace through Yoochun’s own, and his lips to kiss his forehead, his cheeks (maybe touch his heart).
Comments: For eviel_bubble <333
Red-eye flight, early morning and Yoochun’s flattened in his seat, Changmin breathing sleep-slowly into his neck and Junsu’s elbow digging into his side. One of those cheap, low-quality commercial flights that satisfies management. Yunho’s talking with their manager, serious and intent.
Jaejoong’s got a window seat - he’s staring out at the darkened sky and humming under his breath. Picture perfect, Yoochun thinks, the singer inspired by clouds and quiet and the feel of tiredness that hangs heavy around them. Picture perfect, like something Yoochun’s hands ache to compose.
Quiet laughter (ironic), because maybe he fits that tragic musician mold just as well, living on his bits of air and melodies - all the substance he can stomach. Laughter that won’t stop, and he’s keeling over (Changmin shoots him a bleary-eyed glare) - there’s tears in his eyes. He begs them off as tears of happiness.
Maybe they’re not.
[Secret:] Yoochun’s heart should come with a ‘Caution: Fragile. Do Not Break’ sign.
Jaejoong’s an inevitable comfort; with his hands to lace through Yoochun’s own, and his lips to kiss his forehead, his cheeks (maybe touch his heart). He clings to Yoochun is just the right way - calls them soul mates, and makes the phrase sound like fact.
Yoochun rotates through stupid pet names for him (“Baby, Sweet, Honeycakes.” “Honeycakes?” A stare. A wink.) and it keeps him entertained, earns him rolled eyes from the others and not-really-grudging compliance from his victim.
Jaejoong threatens revenge, but he never acts on the promise.
[Secret:] Yoochun never told Jaejoong the flirting was more than simple teasing.
All five of them know reality exists only outside the cameras, away from the one-dimensional cardboard cut-outs they become in public. They’re only real outside the concepts and make-up artists and scripted lines. They’re only real when they’re not trying so hard to be stars.
Yoochun finds it a weird balance, straddling the line between himself and the acceptable - the him the fans and the company want. Some days he stands on the balcony with Jaejoong and compares their bullshit; they’re respectable, they’re honest. Yunho doesn’t lie through his teeth to the cameras, Junsu’s never broken under the stress, and Changmin’s innocent and pure. They’re all straight.
“We’re not straight?” Jaejoong asks, and Yoochun smiles, exhales smoke.
[Secret:] Some days Yoochun lies in the darkened bedroom and matches each breath to the rise and fall of Jaejoong’s chest.
Jaejoong shatters in smaller, more subtle pieces than Yoochun’s ever been able to manage; he ends up with stream-lined cracks noticeable even from a distance. “Hey,” Yoochun says, with hooded eyes and Jaejoong’s cigarette between his fingers. “Hey, let’s just make music.”
Like it’s that simple; Jaejoong nods.
Yoochun opens his mouth - he’s cut off by a hand against his chest, followed by the glance of dark eyes, subtle and broken and honest. Let’s make music, Jaejoong’s face says, let’s live something beautiful. Yoochun breathes in.
[Secret:] Yoochun never has to tell Jaejoong his secrets, because Jaejoong already knows.
Author: kayjayloves
Chapter: 1/1
Pairing: Jaechun
Band: DBSK/THSK/TVXQ
Genre: romance
Rating: PG13
Warning: cussing xD
Disclaimer: 'fraid I don't own these loves.
Synopsis: Jaejoong’s an inevitable comfort; with his hands to lace through Yoochun’s own, and his lips to kiss his forehead, his cheeks (maybe touch his heart).
Comments: For eviel_bubble <333
Red-eye flight, early morning and Yoochun’s flattened in his seat, Changmin breathing sleep-slowly into his neck and Junsu’s elbow digging into his side. One of those cheap, low-quality commercial flights that satisfies management. Yunho’s talking with their manager, serious and intent.
Jaejoong’s got a window seat - he’s staring out at the darkened sky and humming under his breath. Picture perfect, Yoochun thinks, the singer inspired by clouds and quiet and the feel of tiredness that hangs heavy around them. Picture perfect, like something Yoochun’s hands ache to compose.
Quiet laughter (ironic), because maybe he fits that tragic musician mold just as well, living on his bits of air and melodies - all the substance he can stomach. Laughter that won’t stop, and he’s keeling over (Changmin shoots him a bleary-eyed glare) - there’s tears in his eyes. He begs them off as tears of happiness.
Maybe they’re not.
[Secret:] Yoochun’s heart should come with a ‘Caution: Fragile. Do Not Break’ sign.
Jaejoong’s an inevitable comfort; with his hands to lace through Yoochun’s own, and his lips to kiss his forehead, his cheeks (maybe touch his heart). He clings to Yoochun is just the right way - calls them soul mates, and makes the phrase sound like fact.
Yoochun rotates through stupid pet names for him (“Baby, Sweet, Honeycakes.” “Honeycakes?” A stare. A wink.) and it keeps him entertained, earns him rolled eyes from the others and not-really-grudging compliance from his victim.
Jaejoong threatens revenge, but he never acts on the promise.
[Secret:] Yoochun never told Jaejoong the flirting was more than simple teasing.
All five of them know reality exists only outside the cameras, away from the one-dimensional cardboard cut-outs they become in public. They’re only real outside the concepts and make-up artists and scripted lines. They’re only real when they’re not trying so hard to be stars.
Yoochun finds it a weird balance, straddling the line between himself and the acceptable - the him the fans and the company want. Some days he stands on the balcony with Jaejoong and compares their bullshit; they’re respectable, they’re honest. Yunho doesn’t lie through his teeth to the cameras, Junsu’s never broken under the stress, and Changmin’s innocent and pure. They’re all straight.
“We’re not straight?” Jaejoong asks, and Yoochun smiles, exhales smoke.
[Secret:] Some days Yoochun lies in the darkened bedroom and matches each breath to the rise and fall of Jaejoong’s chest.
Jaejoong shatters in smaller, more subtle pieces than Yoochun’s ever been able to manage; he ends up with stream-lined cracks noticeable even from a distance. “Hey,” Yoochun says, with hooded eyes and Jaejoong’s cigarette between his fingers. “Hey, let’s just make music.”
Like it’s that simple; Jaejoong nods.
Yoochun opens his mouth - he’s cut off by a hand against his chest, followed by the glance of dark eyes, subtle and broken and honest. Let’s make music, Jaejoong’s face says, let’s live something beautiful. Yoochun breathes in.
[Secret:] Yoochun never has to tell Jaejoong his secrets, because Jaejoong already knows.