drabbles - nine and counting
drabbles - nine and counting
yunho ♥ jaejoong | yoochun ♥ junsu | tvxq ♥ fc | taemin ♥ minho
mix of RL and AU | pg
a/n: i posted these in imie_schweetzel quite some time ago (so some of you might have already read these) but i just want to move them all here for archiving purposes. some are related, and some stand on their own. shinee-drabbles are mostly written for shineeworld drabble challenges. :)
--
1. drawn, addicted.
You close your eyes and lean in.
You remember missing this; missing the ways your lips touch their soft match, and so it is not surprising when you find yourself getting drawn.
A sweet smell drifts into your flaring nostrils, your breaths coming in short spurts of pants.
You keep telling yourself this is wrong, but your brain would not listen. It is already addicted.
Ghosting a breath on the petal opening, you mouth two syllables making up a name, your chest constricting and hurting from control (or the lack of it),
“Jaejoong.”
Slap. Your cheek stings. Your eyes snap open, and you see a pair of brown irises shooting anger into yours. You feel hatred bursting through even before it is said out loud,
“I’m not Jaejoong, oppa.”
2. warm and comforting
The world is a blurry mess, as you hold yourself tight, tears slithering down your cheeks faster than time.
Everything is over now. Nothing’s left to pick up. She doesn’t love me anymore.
You keep telling yourself those things, even though you know it will tear your soul more, and you would not be able to glue it back again.
A pair of arms envelopes you from behind. It feels warm. You hiccup, snorting disgusting goo out of your nose.
“It will be okay, Chun-ah. There will be another.” A thumb swipes under your nose.
“No, there won’t.” Your sobs tumble out in hissing fits.
“Shh now. I’m here. Lean on me.”
And so you lean on him, and you find that he is more than warm; he is comforting.
3. see, look and watch
Most of the time, you’d like to think you have the answer to everything that is happening around you. You are the youngest, but you know you are the wisest.
Okay, maybe not the wisest, but the most decisive nevertheless.
Then you see how Yunho spoon-feeds his girlfriend, but eyes stay fixed on a laughing Jaejoong in front of him, his smile shining like he has found the golden pot at the end of the rainbow.
Next, you look at how Jaejoong touches Yunho’s arm as he tries to stress his point while talking to his own girl, his fingers lingering longer than they should.
Later, you watch the way Yoochun’s hand entwine tightly with Junsu’s under the table, giving each other flirty glances while listening to their girlfriends rambling on.
And so you squeeze Sooyoung’s hand, and when she squeezes back smilingly, your heart just soars - decided.
But you just couldn’t understand why your brothers could have look elsewhere from their beautiful partners, though your heart has been skipping few beats at the mere thought of truth.
There are ten people at the table, but for them, there’s only two (in their eyes and minds - and certainly, hearts).
4. wish and ask for it
You slump unto your bed face-down, feeling the lethargy seeps through your veins and sinews and out in the cold night air. Closing your eyes, you wish for a masseuse to appear like Genie in Disney’s Aladdin, blue skin and genius laughter making all your tiredness gone in a blink, poof.
It’s the price of fame, you tell yourself. But you couldn’t help but sigh anyway.
Until you feel long, slim fingers threading your muscles like you are a delicate dough, and you are drowning in moaning pleasure.
“Hmm~”
“Jaejoongie-ya…” you feel his voice near your ear, tickling the lobe, “…if you ever want a massage, you can just ask for it.”
His voice is soothing and calming, just like a massage to your soul.
5. away, and away
He skims through the channels, fingers aptly pressing the remote buttons with too much undeserved angst.
You look on, brows bunching in question. He is not acting like himself.
So you reach out, touching his arm gently, but he pushes you away; pushes himself up and away.
“Stop it, Yoochun-ah. Don’t.”
“Huh?
“Don’t touch me.”
“What- I- Su?”
“You can’t do this to me. I love her.”
You could not see his face, but you hear his voice quivers and see his shoulders shaking. You apologize, but he keeps walking - away, and away.
That does not stop you from smiling a little, no matter how sad it is.
6. that pit called regret [prompt: 'we all fall down']
Minho keeps running and running, shoes scrapping tarred road and breaths huffing out in visible little clouds. He hopes it is not too late, though he knows it is.
He sees Taemin standing in front of a closed gate, his face hidden under the shadow of his cap.
Minho’s teeth chatter, nerves in havoc.
“I’m…sorry..”, he spits out between pants, knees buckling and finally giving away. He reaches for Taemin’s hand, but the younger one does not move. His heart takes a leap.
“You forgot me.”, just three words and Minho falls. Deep and deep into that pit called regret.
7. what it (almost) feels like [prompt: 'almost lover']
So you come. You promise him you would (you are never one to say ‘no’ to him).
It is almost too painful to see him amidst the camera flashes, roses and congratulations. He glances your way; so you stretch a too-fake smile on your lips, only to have it stabs your soul.
He is there, standing proudly with a stranger’s hand loops around his arm, and you are here, with no one to hold you. He smiles like the sun (he always does) and you silently weep inside.
You thought you and him would be forever, oh the promise of younger days.
He has grown out of it, but you have not. It is unfair, really, being the one who keepsakes the memories (of kissed lips and touched skins).
“Congratulation, Minho.”
“Thank you, Taemin-ah. I’m glad you could come on my happy day.”
Dying, that is what it almost feels like.
8. hush clack smack haha! [prompt: 'shoes']
Hush hush whispered afar. Taemin’s eyes opened wide, awake as ever.
Clack clack on the floor. Conscious steps advanced more, and Taemin could not help but swore.
He waited for the culprit, teeth grinding spits, sweats clinging uncomfortably to his pits.
How many times do I have to tell him? The room is off-limit to filth! He should know, Taemin-baby is all about prim!
But Minho-ya is a rock-head, listens not to my words and now he shall be dead.
Smack smack on the back. Minho yelped, Help!
Haha! clapped the three. Onew won again, Jonghyun smirked, so did Key.
9. alternate universe [prompt: 'cherries']
(It takes place gazillion years from now, probably in a different universe altogether, where it is always sunshiny and happy.)
I hold your hand tightly, the gold ring around your finger cold against my palm. There, on the table, an opened container full of cherries sits like a happy idiot watching us smiling and blushing at each other, much like two fools in love. The kids are laughing and running outside, white picket fence protecting them from harm, if there is any.
I take the reddest one and feed you with it, and you smile, nodding approvingly.
“You’ve picked the good ones, Minho-ya...”, and I am just about to give you a smartass reply when you kiss the smug grin I have, saying,
“…but I’ve chosen the best one there is. You.”
(But we are here, now, and we can never have kids, or get married, or feed each other’s cherries.)
--
yunho ♥ jaejoong | yoochun ♥ junsu | tvxq ♥ fc | taemin ♥ minho
mix of RL and AU | pg
a/n: i posted these in imie_schweetzel quite some time ago (so some of you might have already read these) but i just want to move them all here for archiving purposes. some are related, and some stand on their own. shinee-drabbles are mostly written for shineeworld drabble challenges. :)
--
1. drawn, addicted.
You close your eyes and lean in.
You remember missing this; missing the ways your lips touch their soft match, and so it is not surprising when you find yourself getting drawn.
A sweet smell drifts into your flaring nostrils, your breaths coming in short spurts of pants.
You keep telling yourself this is wrong, but your brain would not listen. It is already addicted.
Ghosting a breath on the petal opening, you mouth two syllables making up a name, your chest constricting and hurting from control (or the lack of it),
“Jaejoong.”
Slap. Your cheek stings. Your eyes snap open, and you see a pair of brown irises shooting anger into yours. You feel hatred bursting through even before it is said out loud,
“I’m not Jaejoong, oppa.”
2. warm and comforting
The world is a blurry mess, as you hold yourself tight, tears slithering down your cheeks faster than time.
Everything is over now. Nothing’s left to pick up. She doesn’t love me anymore.
You keep telling yourself those things, even though you know it will tear your soul more, and you would not be able to glue it back again.
A pair of arms envelopes you from behind. It feels warm. You hiccup, snorting disgusting goo out of your nose.
“It will be okay, Chun-ah. There will be another.” A thumb swipes under your nose.
“No, there won’t.” Your sobs tumble out in hissing fits.
“Shh now. I’m here. Lean on me.”
And so you lean on him, and you find that he is more than warm; he is comforting.
3. see, look and watch
Most of the time, you’d like to think you have the answer to everything that is happening around you. You are the youngest, but you know you are the wisest.
Okay, maybe not the wisest, but the most decisive nevertheless.
Then you see how Yunho spoon-feeds his girlfriend, but eyes stay fixed on a laughing Jaejoong in front of him, his smile shining like he has found the golden pot at the end of the rainbow.
Next, you look at how Jaejoong touches Yunho’s arm as he tries to stress his point while talking to his own girl, his fingers lingering longer than they should.
Later, you watch the way Yoochun’s hand entwine tightly with Junsu’s under the table, giving each other flirty glances while listening to their girlfriends rambling on.
And so you squeeze Sooyoung’s hand, and when she squeezes back smilingly, your heart just soars - decided.
But you just couldn’t understand why your brothers could have look elsewhere from their beautiful partners, though your heart has been skipping few beats at the mere thought of truth.
There are ten people at the table, but for them, there’s only two (in their eyes and minds - and certainly, hearts).
4. wish and ask for it
You slump unto your bed face-down, feeling the lethargy seeps through your veins and sinews and out in the cold night air. Closing your eyes, you wish for a masseuse to appear like Genie in Disney’s Aladdin, blue skin and genius laughter making all your tiredness gone in a blink, poof.
It’s the price of fame, you tell yourself. But you couldn’t help but sigh anyway.
Until you feel long, slim fingers threading your muscles like you are a delicate dough, and you are drowning in moaning pleasure.
“Hmm~”
“Jaejoongie-ya…” you feel his voice near your ear, tickling the lobe, “…if you ever want a massage, you can just ask for it.”
His voice is soothing and calming, just like a massage to your soul.
5. away, and away
He skims through the channels, fingers aptly pressing the remote buttons with too much undeserved angst.
You look on, brows bunching in question. He is not acting like himself.
So you reach out, touching his arm gently, but he pushes you away; pushes himself up and away.
“Stop it, Yoochun-ah. Don’t.”
“Huh?
“Don’t touch me.”
“What- I- Su?”
“You can’t do this to me. I love her.”
You could not see his face, but you hear his voice quivers and see his shoulders shaking. You apologize, but he keeps walking - away, and away.
That does not stop you from smiling a little, no matter how sad it is.
6. that pit called regret [prompt: 'we all fall down']
Minho keeps running and running, shoes scrapping tarred road and breaths huffing out in visible little clouds. He hopes it is not too late, though he knows it is.
He sees Taemin standing in front of a closed gate, his face hidden under the shadow of his cap.
Minho’s teeth chatter, nerves in havoc.
“I’m…sorry..”, he spits out between pants, knees buckling and finally giving away. He reaches for Taemin’s hand, but the younger one does not move. His heart takes a leap.
“You forgot me.”, just three words and Minho falls. Deep and deep into that pit called regret.
7. what it (almost) feels like [prompt: 'almost lover']
So you come. You promise him you would (you are never one to say ‘no’ to him).
It is almost too painful to see him amidst the camera flashes, roses and congratulations. He glances your way; so you stretch a too-fake smile on your lips, only to have it stabs your soul.
He is there, standing proudly with a stranger’s hand loops around his arm, and you are here, with no one to hold you. He smiles like the sun (he always does) and you silently weep inside.
You thought you and him would be forever, oh the promise of younger days.
He has grown out of it, but you have not. It is unfair, really, being the one who keepsakes the memories (of kissed lips and touched skins).
“Congratulation, Minho.”
“Thank you, Taemin-ah. I’m glad you could come on my happy day.”
Dying, that is what it almost feels like.
8. hush clack smack haha! [prompt: 'shoes']
Hush hush whispered afar. Taemin’s eyes opened wide, awake as ever.
Clack clack on the floor. Conscious steps advanced more, and Taemin could not help but swore.
He waited for the culprit, teeth grinding spits, sweats clinging uncomfortably to his pits.
How many times do I have to tell him? The room is off-limit to filth! He should know, Taemin-baby is all about prim!
But Minho-ya is a rock-head, listens not to my words and now he shall be dead.
Smack smack on the back. Minho yelped, Help!
Haha! clapped the three. Onew won again, Jonghyun smirked, so did Key.
9. alternate universe [prompt: 'cherries']
(It takes place gazillion years from now, probably in a different universe altogether, where it is always sunshiny and happy.)
I hold your hand tightly, the gold ring around your finger cold against my palm. There, on the table, an opened container full of cherries sits like a happy idiot watching us smiling and blushing at each other, much like two fools in love. The kids are laughing and running outside, white picket fence protecting them from harm, if there is any.
I take the reddest one and feed you with it, and you smile, nodding approvingly.
“You’ve picked the good ones, Minho-ya...”, and I am just about to give you a smartass reply when you kiss the smug grin I have, saying,
“…but I’ve chosen the best one there is. You.”
(But we are here, now, and we can never have kids, or get married, or feed each other’s cherries.)
--