#38 [SHINee, Onew/Taemin]
Fandom: Shinee
Title: The artistry of ship making
Rating: PG
Pairing(s)/Focus: Onew/Taemin
Length: 1,824 words
Summary: Onew comes to learn about the intricacies of bottled ships when he is six years old. His father is sitting at his desk in his office, head bent over a wine bottle as it shimmers with the light of the afternoon sun. There are pieces of wood littering the area around the bottle, string left in clumps, and a couple of coffee mugs. Onew doesn't say a word as his father eases the half made miniature ship into the glass bottle.
Notes: Thanks so much to halfkissed for providing such wonderful fic to read. I had such a great time going through all the fic you wrote, and I hope you like this remix as I am in love with this fic of yours.
Remixee author: halfkissed
Title of work you remixed: Of Treasures and Sinking Ships
Link to work you remixed: http://verbluffen.livejournal.com/19322.html
Onew comes to learn about the intricacies of bottled ships when he is six years old. His father is sitting at his desk in his office, head bent over a wine bottle as it shimmers with the light of the afternoon sun. There are pieces of wood littering the area around the bottle, string left in clumps, and a couple of coffee mugs. Onew doesn't say a word as his father eases the half made miniature ship into the glass bottle. There's something about the gentle movements of his father's hands that require silence, as though this is a sacred act that Onew is lucky enough to be privy to.
"Come here, son," his father says.
The deep voice is a shock after the silence and Onew obeys, sits on his father's lap, and watches the light catch the dust particles floating over the desk.
"Pull the string."
Onew looks at the string hanging outside the mouth of the bottle. It's thin, white, the kind his mother uses for knitting or sewing, Onew forgets. He lets his fingers tangle in it and tugs, soft.
"Harder," his father says.
Onew looks up at his father's smiling face and tugs. The sails go up as one, lifting from the bottom of the miniature ship. It's magic, a new world inside the ship with just a tug of string. Onew smiles wide at his father's face and decides then that he wants to learn how to do this too.
-
Every bottled ship has a story and Onew memorizes them all even before he starts working at his father's souvenir shop. There's a bottled ship at the back of the store with golden sails and red lettering on the side. The ship is called The Influye, Spaniard in design. The name and even the way it sits in the bottle, tall and proud, is appropriate. There's The Tempest, with gray slashes of paint on the side, and rippling sails. The Anne Boleyn is shades of red and orange, lopsided and almost wild. Onew's father put it together after Onew's mom moved away.
So, Onew understands there's more to bottling ships than just pulling a string. His father calls it an art and when Onew picks up his first brush, he gets it. Ridiculous amounts of concentration go into getting the strokes of paint just right on the sides of would be ships. It's an art just getting the finished product into the bottles, fingers careful and hands steady so that the fragile wood doesn't hit the sides of the bottle. Many ships go down that way, crumbling into Onew's hands until they're just pieces of wood again.
Friendships go fast too, because middle school is when people start changing. It's also when Onew realizes he prefers the rough sound of men's voices over girls. He spends so much of his middle school years being confused and afraid. Then he gets to high school and there's a boy he keeps seeing, one who's younger than him but goes to his school. The kid has brown hair, dark eyes, and a nice smile.
Onew doesn't jerk off to thoughts of the kid. He saves the guys on his magazine covers for that, but he does spend a lot of time just thinking. He thinks about asking the kid his name, even practices it in front of his bathroom mirror. He starts making ships again, painting in the windows on the wood, and running a pencil over the cloth of the sails so that they look like they're blowing in the wind. He's on his third ship of the week, the fifth one his dad has put in their souvenir shop, when his dad sits him down.
"Son," his dad says. "We need to talk."
It's the most painful half hour of Onew's life, because his father just knows things sometimes. Like, how Onew spends more time staring at guys than he does trying to talk to girls.
"It's okay," his dad tells him. "If you like someone, you know, you can tell me about it. I'll help you with your flirting."
Onew stares.
"Son, you're terrible at flirting."
Onew thinks he understands why kids say that all they really want is for their parents to just accept them for who they are, to just listen. This, sitting in the middle of the crowded souvenir shop with sunlight spilling through all the glass in the place, is all the Onew needs. His dad is behind the counter, the cash register open as he counts out the money, his eyes amused as they look at Onew.
"I," Onew says.
"I got your mom to go on a date with me on my first try."
They don't really talk about Onew's mother but Onew looks like his mother, he knows. He has her wide smile and small eyes. His hair color is closer to hers than to his dad's light brown. Even his optimism, the way he just knows the world is a better place than it seems, comes from her.
"Okay," Onew whispers.
His dad just laughs.
-
Onew is too busy just staring the first time Taemin comes into the shop to really make the connection between him and the guy from school. It's not until Onew runs into him during gym class that he realizes that his guy and the guy from the souvenir shop are the same person.
Once he makes the connection though, it's a lot easier to talk to Taemin. He's younger, eager to learn whatever Onew wants to teach him. During Taemin's sixth visit to the store, Onew spends the entire time explaining how ship bottling works.
"You have to tug the string," Onew says, waving his hands around to emphasize his point. "But you don't want to pull too hard."
"Oh?" Taemin asks.
"It'll break the sails."
Taemin nods, his brown hair falling over his eyes as he stares at Onew. The air gets stuck in Onew's throat and he has to excuse himself. He walks past the rows of bottles and blown glass, to the workbench at the back of the store. His half finished ship is there, enough done that there's a hint as to how it'll look once it's up.
It's Onew's favorite, all different shades of reds (like Taemin's favorite sweater), gold (like the dye in Taemin's hair from last month), and maroon (he's not even going to talk about Taemin's eyes).
He sits down at the workbench and he's not the least bit surprised when Taemin drops down on the chair next to him.
"Can you show me?" Taemin asks.
Onew grins, eyes Taemin and says, "you sure you're ready for this?"
Taemin laughs carefree and happy. It's Onew's favorite sound and he's distracted for a second as he tries to memorize it. He's heard Taemin's laugh often in the time they've spent together, during after school study sessions, and just whenever Taemin wants to come to the shop. But Onew's never quite gotten the sound down, can't remember it when he's thinking at night, or when his father asks him what his favorite thing about Taemin is.
"Hang on, hang on," Taemin says leaning over and digging into his backpack. He pulls out a notebook and a pen, turns back, his face serious, pen poised over paper. "Ready," he says.
Onew laughs.
-
"How do I flirt?" Onew asks his dad that night.
His dad stares at Onew for a while and frowns. "You did a good job with that today."
"No, seriously," Onew says.
"I am serious, son. You flirt pretty well."
"No. Dad. Really."
-
Everything is so awkward after that, because Onew can't tell if what he's doing counts as flirting. He ends up getting stuck three times during his lesson about quadratic equations and he thinks he's staring too much at Taemin.
"Oh my god," Taemin says suddenly, and Onew winces. He's sure Taemin is going to punch him in the face and walk out, even though Taemin is the nicest kid Onew's met and he'd never.
"What?" Onew asks.
"I am so late. My mom is going to kill me."
Onew looks up at the clock above the workbench, sees that he's half an hour past closing time, and realizes that Taemin still probably doesn't know how to solve for x.
"I should walk you home," he says.
Taemin stops mid packing his backpack and stares. "Um."
"No, really," Onew grins. "I think I should. Just in case there's like, a stray cat that needs to be saved."
"Oh?" Taemin asks, but he's already smiling back.
"Yeah," Onew tells him as he starts pulling the shades closed over the windows. "I mean, you're going to need someone to hold your stuff while you save the cat."
"And what are you going to be doing?"
"I'll be there for moral support."
They walk out of the store with Onew talking about CPR, and how it's probably going to rain tomorrow, so they should save the cats today while they still can. Most of the stuff Onew is saying doesn't make any sense to him, but Taemin is hanging onto every word, gasping at the right moments, and laughing the rest of the time.
The night is cold enough that Onew has a sweater, and he zips it up as they make their way down the brightly lit street. The stores are closed, but the lights out front are on, so it's easy to see the way Taemin tilts his head towards Onew, the way he smiles whenever Onew says something funny.
Onew wonders whether this is flirting, the back of his hand brushing against Taemin's as they walk. Neither of them move away, and Onew wonders again whether that means that Taemin is flirting back.
"So," Taemin says when they turn right and start walking down what is probably their tenth street.
Onew's sure there's a faster way to Taemin's house, but he's not complaining, especially not when they get to Taemin's porch and neither of them make any move to leave. They stand on the porch with Onew pressing buttons on his phone and holding it over Taemin's bag so that it lights up the inside.
"I thought I put my keys in here," Taemin says, pulling out notebooks and textbooks.
"Don't worry," Onew tells him. "I've got time."
Taemin takes a seat on the porch steps and Onew has to follow, sit close because, well, he's Taemin's only source of light.
"Do you lose things often?" Onew teases.
Taemin's eyes are serious when they turn to Onew, his face close enough that Onew could probably count the lashes. "No," Taemin says. "I don't lose things once I know I have them."
Onew stares at him, thinks that, yeah, this is probably flirting. He grins, easy, leans back on the porch steps and hopes that Taemin knows he has Onew.
Title: The artistry of ship making
Rating: PG
Pairing(s)/Focus: Onew/Taemin
Length: 1,824 words
Summary: Onew comes to learn about the intricacies of bottled ships when he is six years old. His father is sitting at his desk in his office, head bent over a wine bottle as it shimmers with the light of the afternoon sun. There are pieces of wood littering the area around the bottle, string left in clumps, and a couple of coffee mugs. Onew doesn't say a word as his father eases the half made miniature ship into the glass bottle.
Notes: Thanks so much to halfkissed for providing such wonderful fic to read. I had such a great time going through all the fic you wrote, and I hope you like this remix as I am in love with this fic of yours.
Remixee author: halfkissed
Title of work you remixed: Of Treasures and Sinking Ships
Link to work you remixed: http://verbluffen.livejournal.com/19322.html
Onew comes to learn about the intricacies of bottled ships when he is six years old. His father is sitting at his desk in his office, head bent over a wine bottle as it shimmers with the light of the afternoon sun. There are pieces of wood littering the area around the bottle, string left in clumps, and a couple of coffee mugs. Onew doesn't say a word as his father eases the half made miniature ship into the glass bottle. There's something about the gentle movements of his father's hands that require silence, as though this is a sacred act that Onew is lucky enough to be privy to.
"Come here, son," his father says.
The deep voice is a shock after the silence and Onew obeys, sits on his father's lap, and watches the light catch the dust particles floating over the desk.
"Pull the string."
Onew looks at the string hanging outside the mouth of the bottle. It's thin, white, the kind his mother uses for knitting or sewing, Onew forgets. He lets his fingers tangle in it and tugs, soft.
"Harder," his father says.
Onew looks up at his father's smiling face and tugs. The sails go up as one, lifting from the bottom of the miniature ship. It's magic, a new world inside the ship with just a tug of string. Onew smiles wide at his father's face and decides then that he wants to learn how to do this too.
-
Every bottled ship has a story and Onew memorizes them all even before he starts working at his father's souvenir shop. There's a bottled ship at the back of the store with golden sails and red lettering on the side. The ship is called The Influye, Spaniard in design. The name and even the way it sits in the bottle, tall and proud, is appropriate. There's The Tempest, with gray slashes of paint on the side, and rippling sails. The Anne Boleyn is shades of red and orange, lopsided and almost wild. Onew's father put it together after Onew's mom moved away.
So, Onew understands there's more to bottling ships than just pulling a string. His father calls it an art and when Onew picks up his first brush, he gets it. Ridiculous amounts of concentration go into getting the strokes of paint just right on the sides of would be ships. It's an art just getting the finished product into the bottles, fingers careful and hands steady so that the fragile wood doesn't hit the sides of the bottle. Many ships go down that way, crumbling into Onew's hands until they're just pieces of wood again.
Friendships go fast too, because middle school is when people start changing. It's also when Onew realizes he prefers the rough sound of men's voices over girls. He spends so much of his middle school years being confused and afraid. Then he gets to high school and there's a boy he keeps seeing, one who's younger than him but goes to his school. The kid has brown hair, dark eyes, and a nice smile.
Onew doesn't jerk off to thoughts of the kid. He saves the guys on his magazine covers for that, but he does spend a lot of time just thinking. He thinks about asking the kid his name, even practices it in front of his bathroom mirror. He starts making ships again, painting in the windows on the wood, and running a pencil over the cloth of the sails so that they look like they're blowing in the wind. He's on his third ship of the week, the fifth one his dad has put in their souvenir shop, when his dad sits him down.
"Son," his dad says. "We need to talk."
It's the most painful half hour of Onew's life, because his father just knows things sometimes. Like, how Onew spends more time staring at guys than he does trying to talk to girls.
"It's okay," his dad tells him. "If you like someone, you know, you can tell me about it. I'll help you with your flirting."
Onew stares.
"Son, you're terrible at flirting."
Onew thinks he understands why kids say that all they really want is for their parents to just accept them for who they are, to just listen. This, sitting in the middle of the crowded souvenir shop with sunlight spilling through all the glass in the place, is all the Onew needs. His dad is behind the counter, the cash register open as he counts out the money, his eyes amused as they look at Onew.
"I," Onew says.
"I got your mom to go on a date with me on my first try."
They don't really talk about Onew's mother but Onew looks like his mother, he knows. He has her wide smile and small eyes. His hair color is closer to hers than to his dad's light brown. Even his optimism, the way he just knows the world is a better place than it seems, comes from her.
"Okay," Onew whispers.
His dad just laughs.
-
Onew is too busy just staring the first time Taemin comes into the shop to really make the connection between him and the guy from school. It's not until Onew runs into him during gym class that he realizes that his guy and the guy from the souvenir shop are the same person.
Once he makes the connection though, it's a lot easier to talk to Taemin. He's younger, eager to learn whatever Onew wants to teach him. During Taemin's sixth visit to the store, Onew spends the entire time explaining how ship bottling works.
"You have to tug the string," Onew says, waving his hands around to emphasize his point. "But you don't want to pull too hard."
"Oh?" Taemin asks.
"It'll break the sails."
Taemin nods, his brown hair falling over his eyes as he stares at Onew. The air gets stuck in Onew's throat and he has to excuse himself. He walks past the rows of bottles and blown glass, to the workbench at the back of the store. His half finished ship is there, enough done that there's a hint as to how it'll look once it's up.
It's Onew's favorite, all different shades of reds (like Taemin's favorite sweater), gold (like the dye in Taemin's hair from last month), and maroon (he's not even going to talk about Taemin's eyes).
He sits down at the workbench and he's not the least bit surprised when Taemin drops down on the chair next to him.
"Can you show me?" Taemin asks.
Onew grins, eyes Taemin and says, "you sure you're ready for this?"
Taemin laughs carefree and happy. It's Onew's favorite sound and he's distracted for a second as he tries to memorize it. He's heard Taemin's laugh often in the time they've spent together, during after school study sessions, and just whenever Taemin wants to come to the shop. But Onew's never quite gotten the sound down, can't remember it when he's thinking at night, or when his father asks him what his favorite thing about Taemin is.
"Hang on, hang on," Taemin says leaning over and digging into his backpack. He pulls out a notebook and a pen, turns back, his face serious, pen poised over paper. "Ready," he says.
Onew laughs.
-
"How do I flirt?" Onew asks his dad that night.
His dad stares at Onew for a while and frowns. "You did a good job with that today."
"No, seriously," Onew says.
"I am serious, son. You flirt pretty well."
"No. Dad. Really."
-
Everything is so awkward after that, because Onew can't tell if what he's doing counts as flirting. He ends up getting stuck three times during his lesson about quadratic equations and he thinks he's staring too much at Taemin.
"Oh my god," Taemin says suddenly, and Onew winces. He's sure Taemin is going to punch him in the face and walk out, even though Taemin is the nicest kid Onew's met and he'd never.
"What?" Onew asks.
"I am so late. My mom is going to kill me."
Onew looks up at the clock above the workbench, sees that he's half an hour past closing time, and realizes that Taemin still probably doesn't know how to solve for x.
"I should walk you home," he says.
Taemin stops mid packing his backpack and stares. "Um."
"No, really," Onew grins. "I think I should. Just in case there's like, a stray cat that needs to be saved."
"Oh?" Taemin asks, but he's already smiling back.
"Yeah," Onew tells him as he starts pulling the shades closed over the windows. "I mean, you're going to need someone to hold your stuff while you save the cat."
"And what are you going to be doing?"
"I'll be there for moral support."
They walk out of the store with Onew talking about CPR, and how it's probably going to rain tomorrow, so they should save the cats today while they still can. Most of the stuff Onew is saying doesn't make any sense to him, but Taemin is hanging onto every word, gasping at the right moments, and laughing the rest of the time.
The night is cold enough that Onew has a sweater, and he zips it up as they make their way down the brightly lit street. The stores are closed, but the lights out front are on, so it's easy to see the way Taemin tilts his head towards Onew, the way he smiles whenever Onew says something funny.
Onew wonders whether this is flirting, the back of his hand brushing against Taemin's as they walk. Neither of them move away, and Onew wonders again whether that means that Taemin is flirting back.
"So," Taemin says when they turn right and start walking down what is probably their tenth street.
Onew's sure there's a faster way to Taemin's house, but he's not complaining, especially not when they get to Taemin's porch and neither of them make any move to leave. They stand on the porch with Onew pressing buttons on his phone and holding it over Taemin's bag so that it lights up the inside.
"I thought I put my keys in here," Taemin says, pulling out notebooks and textbooks.
"Don't worry," Onew tells him. "I've got time."
Taemin takes a seat on the porch steps and Onew has to follow, sit close because, well, he's Taemin's only source of light.
"Do you lose things often?" Onew teases.
Taemin's eyes are serious when they turn to Onew, his face close enough that Onew could probably count the lashes. "No," Taemin says. "I don't lose things once I know I have them."
Onew stares at him, thinks that, yeah, this is probably flirting. He grins, easy, leans back on the porch steps and hopes that Taemin knows he has Onew.