[fic] the silent words
TITLE the silent words
FANDOM block b
PAIRING jaehyo/kyung
SUMMARY language can do only so much, so kyung holds jaehyo's hand
WORDS 611
RATING g
The sky is full of colors - soft and warm with purples, pinks, oranges, and reds of sunset.
The volume of the radio is silenced (Kyung's not certain of the song's name, but it's one Yukwon has mentioned liking in passing once before), and Jiho's slumped into his side, motionless as though he's been out for weeks comatose. Kyung shrugs his shoulder, jostles Jiho a bit, and the blood resurfaces to his numbed appendages momentarily before seeping out again. Jihoon makes sleep-induced snuffling sounds somewhere behind, reminiscent of a snoring dog, and Minhyuk's music bursts in static-filled beats from his headphones. Kyung's tired, but it's the type of tired where his body wants to crash yet his legs still feel like going for days. He stretches his left leg out as far as he can, bumping the toe of his shoe into Jaehyo's heel, and twists his foot around the joint of his ankle; it does little to help, but Kyung hates remaining stationary.
He glances left to where Jaehyo relaxes into the leather interior of his seat, and Kyung's heart does this awkward jig; it's almost painful to feel his heart throb like this for no reason at all.
Jaehyo's head is turned to the side, and the lights of the freeway light his face eerily - yellowed and bright. Kyung cannot tear his eyes away from the exposed strip of flesh below Jaehyo's jaw; the skin looks as though it's stretched over the muscles of his neck to the point of ripping, almost translucent with the blue trek of veins following the lines of his body. Kyung wonders if the pulse bounces harder there - if he pressed his fingers to that particular spot, could he catch the drive of Jaehyo's heartbeat beneath the meshwork of flesh and veins and muscle.
Jaehyo tips his head against the window, and the spot Kyung fascinates himself with vanishes into the shadows cast by Jaehyo's jaw. They're barely centimeters apart, and Jiho has now captured most of the seat for himself, leaving Kyung with little wiggle-room to spare.
Kyung's hand grazes Jaehyo's, a mere touch away, and he lines up the spaces between their hands mentally. They look like they'd fit, and they might even slide and lock into place until one would have trouble telling where the start-end points of either would be. He perhaps should take the Beatles' way out - ask if he could hold Jaehyo's hand.
Kyung absently touches Jaehyo's hand again, fingertips light on the thin skin of the back of his hand; Jaehyo does not stir nor does he flinch away from Kyung's feather-light brushes. Kyung commences to phase two - he slips his palm against Jaehyo's and he aligns their fingers. Jaehyo's fingers jut just a stretch more than his own, tapered and long, and Kyung brings their hands up eye-level to consider them closer.
When he finally allows his fingers to slide into the spaces between their fingers, he feels a returning squeeze as Jaehyo's fingers bend down to lock their hands together.
Kyung's teeth find purchase on his bottom lip as he directs his eyes toward Jaehyo.
"Hi," Jaehyo mouths soundlessly, and he brings their joined hands to his lap.
They look odd and fit strange together; it doesn't line up perfectly and Jaehyo's palm is dry against Kyung's own sweaty skin. But - his heart thumps out a slower beat, fluttering like a bird's wings when it's learning to fly - it's the little imperfections that make it work. Jaehyo runs his thumb in a downward stroke across Kyung's knuckles.
With the makings of a grin on his face, Kyung settles his weight into Jaehyo's side, and whispers: "hey."
this was written more than two months ago for s. so much has happened since then. I wish someone would hold my hand; it's rather lonely.
FANDOM block b
PAIRING jaehyo/kyung
SUMMARY language can do only so much, so kyung holds jaehyo's hand
WORDS 611
RATING g
The sky is full of colors - soft and warm with purples, pinks, oranges, and reds of sunset.
The volume of the radio is silenced (Kyung's not certain of the song's name, but it's one Yukwon has mentioned liking in passing once before), and Jiho's slumped into his side, motionless as though he's been out for weeks comatose. Kyung shrugs his shoulder, jostles Jiho a bit, and the blood resurfaces to his numbed appendages momentarily before seeping out again. Jihoon makes sleep-induced snuffling sounds somewhere behind, reminiscent of a snoring dog, and Minhyuk's music bursts in static-filled beats from his headphones. Kyung's tired, but it's the type of tired where his body wants to crash yet his legs still feel like going for days. He stretches his left leg out as far as he can, bumping the toe of his shoe into Jaehyo's heel, and twists his foot around the joint of his ankle; it does little to help, but Kyung hates remaining stationary.
He glances left to where Jaehyo relaxes into the leather interior of his seat, and Kyung's heart does this awkward jig; it's almost painful to feel his heart throb like this for no reason at all.
Jaehyo's head is turned to the side, and the lights of the freeway light his face eerily - yellowed and bright. Kyung cannot tear his eyes away from the exposed strip of flesh below Jaehyo's jaw; the skin looks as though it's stretched over the muscles of his neck to the point of ripping, almost translucent with the blue trek of veins following the lines of his body. Kyung wonders if the pulse bounces harder there - if he pressed his fingers to that particular spot, could he catch the drive of Jaehyo's heartbeat beneath the meshwork of flesh and veins and muscle.
Jaehyo tips his head against the window, and the spot Kyung fascinates himself with vanishes into the shadows cast by Jaehyo's jaw. They're barely centimeters apart, and Jiho has now captured most of the seat for himself, leaving Kyung with little wiggle-room to spare.
Kyung's hand grazes Jaehyo's, a mere touch away, and he lines up the spaces between their hands mentally. They look like they'd fit, and they might even slide and lock into place until one would have trouble telling where the start-end points of either would be. He perhaps should take the Beatles' way out - ask if he could hold Jaehyo's hand.
Kyung absently touches Jaehyo's hand again, fingertips light on the thin skin of the back of his hand; Jaehyo does not stir nor does he flinch away from Kyung's feather-light brushes. Kyung commences to phase two - he slips his palm against Jaehyo's and he aligns their fingers. Jaehyo's fingers jut just a stretch more than his own, tapered and long, and Kyung brings their hands up eye-level to consider them closer.
When he finally allows his fingers to slide into the spaces between their fingers, he feels a returning squeeze as Jaehyo's fingers bend down to lock their hands together.
Kyung's teeth find purchase on his bottom lip as he directs his eyes toward Jaehyo.
"Hi," Jaehyo mouths soundlessly, and he brings their joined hands to his lap.
They look odd and fit strange together; it doesn't line up perfectly and Jaehyo's palm is dry against Kyung's own sweaty skin. But - his heart thumps out a slower beat, fluttering like a bird's wings when it's learning to fly - it's the little imperfections that make it work. Jaehyo runs his thumb in a downward stroke across Kyung's knuckles.
With the makings of a grin on his face, Kyung settles his weight into Jaehyo's side, and whispers: "hey."
this was written more than two months ago for s. so much has happened since then. I wish someone would hold my hand; it's rather lonely.