Story of a Boy (oneshot)
Title: Story of a Boy
Rating: PG13
Form: Oneshot
Words: 2, 737
Pairings: YunJae
Genre: drama, fluff
Summary: You meet a boy in the hall of SME's towering trainee building, and then your life begins.
A/N: You know, this is the first extended piece that I've written in one go, and in a linear manner. ^^; Start to finish, it all just came out in the right order. I feel happy. XD I hope it's not too confusing to read, and that you can figure out the pronouns okay. I'm also sorry if the tenses are screwy, I chose to write this in a way I'm perhaps not properly equipped to write yet. ^^;
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
You first meet him at age 15, being hustled through the halls of the SM training bloc. You’d just finished filming with Dana, on a high from your first real chance to perform, to be someone, and still decked out proudly in your tracksuit.
At the time, he barely even registers. Someone, you can’t even recall who in the years later, introduces him as one of the new recruits, and you nod pleasantly. He looks a little bit awestruck, but also quite a lot blank, and he’s pretty easily dismissed from your mind as soon as you’ve parted ways. You certainly can’t recall spying anything in him of the man he will become, with his strangely too-large eyes (that don’t radiate warmth), round face (lacking the definition he would gain) and a damn awful hair cut.
Actually, the next couple of years are just a series of damn awful haircuts really, which puzzles you because it is during that time that he manages to get his certificate in hairdressing - using the skill to pick up a handful of won here and there cutting fellow recruits hair. Then again, he can’t be blamed for it all, because many of those damn awful haircuts were the height of fashion at the time. And really, you can’t be one to talk in that area.
The hair cuts aside, you find yourself spending a lot of time with him. He is, after all, the same age as you (you’re very startled to find out he’s actually older then you. But not Heechul-hyung.) and trying for the same thing you are.
The first time you hear him sing, it shocks you a bit. You’ve heard Junsu of course, and you always thought your friend to be so very gifted (and felt all the more sorry for him when his voice seemed to start to go awry), but there’s singing and then there’s singing. You worry that if this is the sort of competition they’re finding these days, you won’t have a chance - Dana or not.
He has the voice of an angel, and you flat out disbelieve that he used to be tone deaf, no matter how many times he tries to tell you. You think it’s sweet when he blushes like that, even if it does make him look even more hedge-hoggy with his short cropped hair.
You hang out, because you get on well enough with each other, and he helps you with your singing while you help him with his dancing (for, really, he needs all the help he can get with it). You go to classes - both academic and SM training - together. He introduces you to his girlfriend. She’s older then him, and everyone makes a big deal out of it. You can tell he’s besotted with the girl, but honestly can’t tell if the feeling is reciprocated. More then once, you want to tell him to dump the bitch, because she keeps running hot and cold on him. Yourself, you’ve had a couple of dates, but honestly you like hanging out with the guys more then anything. Not that you generally have much choice a lot of the time, what with you, him, Heechul and Donghae squashed into the dinkiest little room possible. You envy Junsu and his nice home, with his home cooked meals and big room.
It’s better though with him there - he can cook. And, despite smoking like a chimney and getting drunk three nights a week, he mothers the lot of you; bossy and impossible half the time, generous and caring the other half. You hate it and you love it and you whine to your mother on the phone about him, and she just laughs, telling you she’s glad you’re in good hands.
Heechul pitches a fit when you keep stealing his clothes, but you don’t stop until the normal black tshirts start turning pink with flower prints. You switch instead to stealing his. He laughs at how happy Heechul is at the switch, and he never complains about you using his stuff until you accidentally rip his favourite hoodie at dance practice and it takes hours of prostration, promises, and bribes for him to speak to you again.
And then his girlfriend dumps him, ‘for real’, and none of it matters. You hold him as he doesn’t cry, and remain wordless as he scours the whole apartment, even though the other boys are dismayed at the unnatural cleanliness.
You hang out even more, and neither of you find it strange. You take pictures too, because he likes pictures. He likes having a reminder that he exists, that he matters. He’s obsessed with his perceived flaws, and looks at the pictures and in mirrors constantly. He never says anything, but you know he thinks he’s not good enough. You can’t understand that either, because he’s the best damn singer out of all the trainees, and he’s so goddamn beautiful, inside and out that it drives you nuts the way he puts down himself. Because you do see his beauty now. His hair’s still not exactly right, hiding his beauty more oft then accentuating it, his eyes are still large, but are now deep soft pools you feel may just hold the answers to the universe, and his face is still somewhat round but his cheekbones soar and you can see that in a few years… in a few years he’ll be breathtaking.
Even Boa, that magical almost mythological idol that soars so high above the lowly trainees, even she has noticed him. You see them talking one day, and ask after it curiously later. He blushes and looks away, and jealousy surges in you… the cause of it not entirely certain.
It’s more certain a little later, when you’re on the roof of your dingy apartment block, his lips against yours, as soft and kissable as they look. He opens his mouth, and he tastes like cigarettes and kimchi, but to you, on that night, that is the taste of heaven. You’re on top of him, intoxicated with his taste smell touch sound… and then he passes out, just plain intoxicated.
You do a little awkward dance for the next few days, and Heechul calls you both moronic and five year olds, and then you’re kissing again, this time up against the door to the room you share with the pink monstrosity, as he calls him, and this time he tastes like cloves and toothpaste. Then he smiles, almost brittle, but you kiss him again and it softens to a soft drop of strawberry sweetness, his eyes sparkling at you as you pull away the third time. He blooms, shyly and coarse around the edges, a study of opposites you can’t take your eyes off. You laugh and hug him and it’s all okay.
Except it’s not, not really, because you’re both far too eager and, just as Heechul says, moronic and young. You rush too fast, and even though it’s awkward and wondrous and afterwards you can’t stop smiling or pressing kisses to his skin, you both soon realise just how moronic and young you really are. It sinks in what kind of decision you’ve made, and the realisation of what you’d dived into, unthinking, nearly ends you, right there. Not only the buds of your relationship as lovers, but also as friends. It was only by luck you manage to somehow steer through that incredibly confusing, agonising time and come out at the end of it whole and sane and best of all, together. But perhaps that was the best way - because you know you are based on that time. That struggle you weathered is the basis of the strength of your relationship, and perhaps it was only because of that time that you can remain together so stolidly, still in love in lust and in need with each other and very willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourselves together, whole and intact.
Things settle for a while into a haze of bliss. You have a chance of happiness and growth, fumbling along into the unknown as only fools in love can. Even then though, there are things that niggle at you both. The number of concept groups you are slated to increase, a constant flow of other boys brought together with one or other of you, formed abruptly and broken apart just as quickly. Somewhere deep inside you, you begin to worry that your dreams would wrench you apart. It’s not something you want to admit to, especially not when he seems so uncaring and confident of the future. It’s only until you’re part of a group that is only steps from becoming reality, only seeming moments until you leave him behind for the spotlight that would exclude him so totally, that he finally shows some of his own fears, and you end up comforting each other well into the night.
Then comes Four Seasons, and if feels like the world has come into alignment. You are both moved into an apartment with Heechul and Kangin, larger then the small room you’d previously inhabited. Your celebration lasts well past when the other two pass out, and his soft giggles against your chest as dawn breaks lifts your heart. Heaven has come knocking again, and you’re only too eager to greet it.
This particular haven lasts for longer then you would have expected and nothing brings you down from that high. Even the part where Heechul finds you kissing hungrily in the broom closet one time, and you have to have a very interesting talk with him.
The call from the managers is a puzzlement - you and he bidding Kangin and Heechul goodbye as you headed in to the sudden meeting, wondering what was wrong. Wondering if you had been found out. You hold hands on the train in, his bag positioned over your twined fingers to hide them, the terror that wells in both your hearts growing with each minute. You pray to any god that would listen to make it be about anything but you. Make it so that you don’t have to choose. Music is your life, just as you knew it is his. But he… he is something else entirely.
You kiss desperately in the train station toilet for too-short moments before making your way into the always daunting building and the studio you’d been instructed to go to. Peering inside, the first thing you see is Lee SooMan - someone who both terrifies and awes you. Also inside is your friend Junsu, and a very young trainee you vaguely remember having seen around. Your relief bubbles up inside you, and manifests itself in your rather jubilant greeting to Junsu, and the friendly introduction you enthusiastically give the boy - Shim Changmin, you find out his name is, a stringy boy who seems nervous and is very quiet. But you are safe, for now. And Four Seasons is no more. He catches your hand unobtrusively, squeezing it tight. You’re still together - you and him - and that’s all you can ask for.
The fifth of your team is introduced weeks later, just as the three of you are getting Changmin to finally start talking. It’s an American boy, open faced and uncomfortable. All of you size him up, and then management has thrown you into rehearsals and you’re moved into a hotel room together.
It comes as a rude shock when she calls. He stares at the phone like it had bit him, and you tilt a questioning eyebrow at him. He shakes his head, bringing the phone back to his ear, and the conversation is stilted. You wrap your arm around him, offering comfort, but he shrugs it off. Afterwards, he goes off for a while by himself, but later still he comes to you and you reassure him of his worth. You wish you could face her and rub her nose in the fact that he was no longer hers, that you are taking so much better care of him then she ever could or had. You pull him closer as he sleeps and think that even though it’s nice to think about, it doesn’t matter, because he’s there beside you and not with her.
You get assigned a manager - a real one, just for the group, and then bam, you’re debuting. Chaos ensues and everything goes into overdrive. There’s never a moment of peace and you find yourself missing your ‘easy’ trainee days where you could curl up with him on the roof and sleep in the afternoon sun. There is no snuggling for you now, not even any sleep, most of the time. And besides. The members are always there, always right there.
The American, Yoochun, is, somewhat surprisingly, the first to know. He tells you later, while sharing a cigarette on the balcony, that Yoochun had asked him casually the evening before while they were working on songs. He had frozen of course, stunned, but the affable American had just hugged him and told him the love had no eyes, only heart. You felt a warm flush of affection for the lonely young man, and from then on never begrudged him the friendship that had struck up between the two. It seemed they understood each other, and with that, Yoochun also understood you.
It’s only weeks later when Changmin, your serious young brother who you’d both come to hold great affection for, corners you both - worried and reluctant and needing to know. He explains as best he can, your own tongue knotted and dry. He explains about your commitment to the group, of your deep and long friendship that had bloomed, of your ‘us’. He then asks, voice soft and so caring, if Changmin can live with that. The young man, still a boy really for all his big words and sly smiles, had been bewildered and unsure, but hesitantly accepting.
After that, you thought it only fair, and devise to catch Junsu alone, speaking to him and stealing many of the same phrases that had been used to convince Changmin. Junsu just laughs at you and says that he’s known since you’d all moved in together. It’s like a great weight off your mind when the sunny man gives you a hug and tells you not to worry.
You’ve never been so relieved and happy to be in Dong Bang Shin Ki as you are in the next few weeks. The understanding and acceptance that both Yoochun and Junsu show is something you crave, and you wallow in the heady feeling after so many years of secrecy. Changmin is different, the boy completely unsure of how to react around you. Changmin eyes you both carefully for days, watching your every move and noticing your every touch, word or reaction both in public and in the privacy of your own quarters. You are careful not to shove it into his face too much, keeping circumspect, although you still revel in the relative freedom of having your band mates know. For the first time, you don’t have to worry about every move you make.
In the end, Changmin gets used to it, comes to love you both as you are, and the five of you become close in a way you could never imagine. But through it all, he’s always there beside you - the closest of all. Your bond wavers sometimes in the force of stress and the media, especially as your fame grows and grows, but it never breaks. You make sure it never will. The others act as buffers for you, something that neither you nor he can ever repay them adequately for.
It’s been seven years now, since you met that boy in the hallway, his round face and stupid hair a half forgotten memory. Over the top of it is layer after layer of warmth, smiles, laughter, love and friendship. He stands beside you now, the beautiful man that he is, speaking to an auditorium of thousands in a strong, humble voice, with Yoochun on his right crying and Junsu holding the flowers and Changmin gripping your and his shoulders, and it seems to you like heaven has come to stay, wrapped up in the gentle smile and loving gaze that comes your way.
You step into his embrace, feel the others around you, and know that this is happiness.
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
I have been wanting to write a trainee!fic for a very long time, but I hate writing what I don't know, and I know very little about the trainee time. So I condensed what I did know, and wrote this instead. The following things are 'real' from the fic - as in, one of the boys has actually said it, or SM released the information at some point-
* The way they met
* Yunho in Dana's song/mv
* Jae's weird ass haircuts (the hedgehog) and his hairdressing license.
* Jae's ex, including wanting him back before debut
* sharing house with Donghae (er, I THINK it was him?!) and Heechul
* Heechul's clothing style change cuz of Yunho. XD
* Four Seasons
* The abrupt formation of DBSK
(edited to add-)
* Junsu's voice going awry through/after puberty
Rating: PG13
Form: Oneshot
Words: 2, 737
Pairings: YunJae
Genre: drama, fluff
Summary: You meet a boy in the hall of SME's towering trainee building, and then your life begins.
A/N: You know, this is the first extended piece that I've written in one go, and in a linear manner. ^^; Start to finish, it all just came out in the right order. I feel happy. XD I hope it's not too confusing to read, and that you can figure out the pronouns okay. I'm also sorry if the tenses are screwy, I chose to write this in a way I'm perhaps not properly equipped to write yet. ^^;
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
You first meet him at age 15, being hustled through the halls of the SM training bloc. You’d just finished filming with Dana, on a high from your first real chance to perform, to be someone, and still decked out proudly in your tracksuit.
At the time, he barely even registers. Someone, you can’t even recall who in the years later, introduces him as one of the new recruits, and you nod pleasantly. He looks a little bit awestruck, but also quite a lot blank, and he’s pretty easily dismissed from your mind as soon as you’ve parted ways. You certainly can’t recall spying anything in him of the man he will become, with his strangely too-large eyes (that don’t radiate warmth), round face (lacking the definition he would gain) and a damn awful hair cut.
Actually, the next couple of years are just a series of damn awful haircuts really, which puzzles you because it is during that time that he manages to get his certificate in hairdressing - using the skill to pick up a handful of won here and there cutting fellow recruits hair. Then again, he can’t be blamed for it all, because many of those damn awful haircuts were the height of fashion at the time. And really, you can’t be one to talk in that area.
The hair cuts aside, you find yourself spending a lot of time with him. He is, after all, the same age as you (you’re very startled to find out he’s actually older then you. But not Heechul-hyung.) and trying for the same thing you are.
The first time you hear him sing, it shocks you a bit. You’ve heard Junsu of course, and you always thought your friend to be so very gifted (and felt all the more sorry for him when his voice seemed to start to go awry), but there’s singing and then there’s singing. You worry that if this is the sort of competition they’re finding these days, you won’t have a chance - Dana or not.
He has the voice of an angel, and you flat out disbelieve that he used to be tone deaf, no matter how many times he tries to tell you. You think it’s sweet when he blushes like that, even if it does make him look even more hedge-hoggy with his short cropped hair.
You hang out, because you get on well enough with each other, and he helps you with your singing while you help him with his dancing (for, really, he needs all the help he can get with it). You go to classes - both academic and SM training - together. He introduces you to his girlfriend. She’s older then him, and everyone makes a big deal out of it. You can tell he’s besotted with the girl, but honestly can’t tell if the feeling is reciprocated. More then once, you want to tell him to dump the bitch, because she keeps running hot and cold on him. Yourself, you’ve had a couple of dates, but honestly you like hanging out with the guys more then anything. Not that you generally have much choice a lot of the time, what with you, him, Heechul and Donghae squashed into the dinkiest little room possible. You envy Junsu and his nice home, with his home cooked meals and big room.
It’s better though with him there - he can cook. And, despite smoking like a chimney and getting drunk three nights a week, he mothers the lot of you; bossy and impossible half the time, generous and caring the other half. You hate it and you love it and you whine to your mother on the phone about him, and she just laughs, telling you she’s glad you’re in good hands.
Heechul pitches a fit when you keep stealing his clothes, but you don’t stop until the normal black tshirts start turning pink with flower prints. You switch instead to stealing his. He laughs at how happy Heechul is at the switch, and he never complains about you using his stuff until you accidentally rip his favourite hoodie at dance practice and it takes hours of prostration, promises, and bribes for him to speak to you again.
And then his girlfriend dumps him, ‘for real’, and none of it matters. You hold him as he doesn’t cry, and remain wordless as he scours the whole apartment, even though the other boys are dismayed at the unnatural cleanliness.
You hang out even more, and neither of you find it strange. You take pictures too, because he likes pictures. He likes having a reminder that he exists, that he matters. He’s obsessed with his perceived flaws, and looks at the pictures and in mirrors constantly. He never says anything, but you know he thinks he’s not good enough. You can’t understand that either, because he’s the best damn singer out of all the trainees, and he’s so goddamn beautiful, inside and out that it drives you nuts the way he puts down himself. Because you do see his beauty now. His hair’s still not exactly right, hiding his beauty more oft then accentuating it, his eyes are still large, but are now deep soft pools you feel may just hold the answers to the universe, and his face is still somewhat round but his cheekbones soar and you can see that in a few years… in a few years he’ll be breathtaking.
Even Boa, that magical almost mythological idol that soars so high above the lowly trainees, even she has noticed him. You see them talking one day, and ask after it curiously later. He blushes and looks away, and jealousy surges in you… the cause of it not entirely certain.
It’s more certain a little later, when you’re on the roof of your dingy apartment block, his lips against yours, as soft and kissable as they look. He opens his mouth, and he tastes like cigarettes and kimchi, but to you, on that night, that is the taste of heaven. You’re on top of him, intoxicated with his taste smell touch sound… and then he passes out, just plain intoxicated.
You do a little awkward dance for the next few days, and Heechul calls you both moronic and five year olds, and then you’re kissing again, this time up against the door to the room you share with the pink monstrosity, as he calls him, and this time he tastes like cloves and toothpaste. Then he smiles, almost brittle, but you kiss him again and it softens to a soft drop of strawberry sweetness, his eyes sparkling at you as you pull away the third time. He blooms, shyly and coarse around the edges, a study of opposites you can’t take your eyes off. You laugh and hug him and it’s all okay.
Except it’s not, not really, because you’re both far too eager and, just as Heechul says, moronic and young. You rush too fast, and even though it’s awkward and wondrous and afterwards you can’t stop smiling or pressing kisses to his skin, you both soon realise just how moronic and young you really are. It sinks in what kind of decision you’ve made, and the realisation of what you’d dived into, unthinking, nearly ends you, right there. Not only the buds of your relationship as lovers, but also as friends. It was only by luck you manage to somehow steer through that incredibly confusing, agonising time and come out at the end of it whole and sane and best of all, together. But perhaps that was the best way - because you know you are based on that time. That struggle you weathered is the basis of the strength of your relationship, and perhaps it was only because of that time that you can remain together so stolidly, still in love in lust and in need with each other and very willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourselves together, whole and intact.
Things settle for a while into a haze of bliss. You have a chance of happiness and growth, fumbling along into the unknown as only fools in love can. Even then though, there are things that niggle at you both. The number of concept groups you are slated to increase, a constant flow of other boys brought together with one or other of you, formed abruptly and broken apart just as quickly. Somewhere deep inside you, you begin to worry that your dreams would wrench you apart. It’s not something you want to admit to, especially not when he seems so uncaring and confident of the future. It’s only until you’re part of a group that is only steps from becoming reality, only seeming moments until you leave him behind for the spotlight that would exclude him so totally, that he finally shows some of his own fears, and you end up comforting each other well into the night.
Then comes Four Seasons, and if feels like the world has come into alignment. You are both moved into an apartment with Heechul and Kangin, larger then the small room you’d previously inhabited. Your celebration lasts well past when the other two pass out, and his soft giggles against your chest as dawn breaks lifts your heart. Heaven has come knocking again, and you’re only too eager to greet it.
This particular haven lasts for longer then you would have expected and nothing brings you down from that high. Even the part where Heechul finds you kissing hungrily in the broom closet one time, and you have to have a very interesting talk with him.
The call from the managers is a puzzlement - you and he bidding Kangin and Heechul goodbye as you headed in to the sudden meeting, wondering what was wrong. Wondering if you had been found out. You hold hands on the train in, his bag positioned over your twined fingers to hide them, the terror that wells in both your hearts growing with each minute. You pray to any god that would listen to make it be about anything but you. Make it so that you don’t have to choose. Music is your life, just as you knew it is his. But he… he is something else entirely.
You kiss desperately in the train station toilet for too-short moments before making your way into the always daunting building and the studio you’d been instructed to go to. Peering inside, the first thing you see is Lee SooMan - someone who both terrifies and awes you. Also inside is your friend Junsu, and a very young trainee you vaguely remember having seen around. Your relief bubbles up inside you, and manifests itself in your rather jubilant greeting to Junsu, and the friendly introduction you enthusiastically give the boy - Shim Changmin, you find out his name is, a stringy boy who seems nervous and is very quiet. But you are safe, for now. And Four Seasons is no more. He catches your hand unobtrusively, squeezing it tight. You’re still together - you and him - and that’s all you can ask for.
The fifth of your team is introduced weeks later, just as the three of you are getting Changmin to finally start talking. It’s an American boy, open faced and uncomfortable. All of you size him up, and then management has thrown you into rehearsals and you’re moved into a hotel room together.
It comes as a rude shock when she calls. He stares at the phone like it had bit him, and you tilt a questioning eyebrow at him. He shakes his head, bringing the phone back to his ear, and the conversation is stilted. You wrap your arm around him, offering comfort, but he shrugs it off. Afterwards, he goes off for a while by himself, but later still he comes to you and you reassure him of his worth. You wish you could face her and rub her nose in the fact that he was no longer hers, that you are taking so much better care of him then she ever could or had. You pull him closer as he sleeps and think that even though it’s nice to think about, it doesn’t matter, because he’s there beside you and not with her.
You get assigned a manager - a real one, just for the group, and then bam, you’re debuting. Chaos ensues and everything goes into overdrive. There’s never a moment of peace and you find yourself missing your ‘easy’ trainee days where you could curl up with him on the roof and sleep in the afternoon sun. There is no snuggling for you now, not even any sleep, most of the time. And besides. The members are always there, always right there.
The American, Yoochun, is, somewhat surprisingly, the first to know. He tells you later, while sharing a cigarette on the balcony, that Yoochun had asked him casually the evening before while they were working on songs. He had frozen of course, stunned, but the affable American had just hugged him and told him the love had no eyes, only heart. You felt a warm flush of affection for the lonely young man, and from then on never begrudged him the friendship that had struck up between the two. It seemed they understood each other, and with that, Yoochun also understood you.
It’s only weeks later when Changmin, your serious young brother who you’d both come to hold great affection for, corners you both - worried and reluctant and needing to know. He explains as best he can, your own tongue knotted and dry. He explains about your commitment to the group, of your deep and long friendship that had bloomed, of your ‘us’. He then asks, voice soft and so caring, if Changmin can live with that. The young man, still a boy really for all his big words and sly smiles, had been bewildered and unsure, but hesitantly accepting.
After that, you thought it only fair, and devise to catch Junsu alone, speaking to him and stealing many of the same phrases that had been used to convince Changmin. Junsu just laughs at you and says that he’s known since you’d all moved in together. It’s like a great weight off your mind when the sunny man gives you a hug and tells you not to worry.
You’ve never been so relieved and happy to be in Dong Bang Shin Ki as you are in the next few weeks. The understanding and acceptance that both Yoochun and Junsu show is something you crave, and you wallow in the heady feeling after so many years of secrecy. Changmin is different, the boy completely unsure of how to react around you. Changmin eyes you both carefully for days, watching your every move and noticing your every touch, word or reaction both in public and in the privacy of your own quarters. You are careful not to shove it into his face too much, keeping circumspect, although you still revel in the relative freedom of having your band mates know. For the first time, you don’t have to worry about every move you make.
In the end, Changmin gets used to it, comes to love you both as you are, and the five of you become close in a way you could never imagine. But through it all, he’s always there beside you - the closest of all. Your bond wavers sometimes in the force of stress and the media, especially as your fame grows and grows, but it never breaks. You make sure it never will. The others act as buffers for you, something that neither you nor he can ever repay them adequately for.
It’s been seven years now, since you met that boy in the hallway, his round face and stupid hair a half forgotten memory. Over the top of it is layer after layer of warmth, smiles, laughter, love and friendship. He stands beside you now, the beautiful man that he is, speaking to an auditorium of thousands in a strong, humble voice, with Yoochun on his right crying and Junsu holding the flowers and Changmin gripping your and his shoulders, and it seems to you like heaven has come to stay, wrapped up in the gentle smile and loving gaze that comes your way.
You step into his embrace, feel the others around you, and know that this is happiness.
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
I have been wanting to write a trainee!fic for a very long time, but I hate writing what I don't know, and I know very little about the trainee time. So I condensed what I did know, and wrote this instead. The following things are 'real' from the fic - as in, one of the boys has actually said it, or SM released the information at some point-
* The way they met
* Yunho in Dana's song/mv
* Jae's weird ass haircuts (the hedgehog) and his hairdressing license.
* Jae's ex, including wanting him back before debut
* sharing house with Donghae (er, I THINK it was him?!) and Heechul
* Heechul's clothing style change cuz of Yunho. XD
* Four Seasons
* The abrupt formation of DBSK
(edited to add-)
* Junsu's voice going awry through/after puberty