YunJae - The Language of Silence
Written for dbsk_flashfic Challenge 42: Quiet World, which is based off the poem, The Quiet World by Jeffrey McDaniel where everyone can only speak 167 words a day.
Title: The Language of Silence
Word count: 870
Pairing: Yunjae, OT5
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: DBSK do not belong to me
One would think that with the government’s new regulation, things would finally quiet down in the Dong Bang Shin Ki household. One couldn’t be more wrong.
Junsu for once is conserving his words as he quietly sits in a corner of the living room, pages of script strewn about him. The night is getting late, and he wants to practice a bit more for his Mozart musical before going to bed. He carefully recites his lines, eyebrows creased in concentration. Singing had always been his forte, notes and intonation as natural to him as breathing. Yet it was nothing new that the oyaji gag master took each of his performances seriously.
Across the room, Changmin and Yoochun are glued in their Playstation, saving the world from zombies, each intent on out-blasting the other.
“Take that hyung!” yells the magnae. Afterall, no one could dethrone him as the resident gaming master of their household. Not satisfied with being the loser, Yoochun gets his revenge - by simply grabbing the control from the other’s hands, and blasting his character to smithereens.
“I win! Who’s the winner now?” shouts Yoochun, fist-punching the air.
“Yah, you cheater!” Changmin retorts, his pitch rivaling his scream in Rising Sun as he one-touches the newly crowned gaming master - and cheater.
“You guys be quiet!” Both turn to the source of the noise - their dolphin boy sitting in the corner of the room.
“Aww, don’t be jealous just because you can’t play videogames,” drawls Yoochun as he exchanges a quick glance with Changmin. A smirk, a quirk of eyebrows, and another evil plan is born.
Up to no good, they tiptoe across the room, stopping right in front of their newest victim. Hearing the rustle of clothing, Junsu raises his head only to be face-to-face with two idiots whose faces are contorted in silly expressions.
“What are you-aish, stop that, I’m trying to concentrate!” His concentration shatters seeing the other two, and with a heavy sigh, Junsu repeats his lines. However, he has difficulty being a man longing for love and freedom when faced with two silly - but hilarious - idiots in front of him, and Junsu bursts out laughing, his eu kyang kyang replacing notes and lyrics of loneliness and heartbreak.
“Stop that you two!” he yelps, but his dolphin squeaks are in vain as the other two continue with their antics, intent on out-doing the other in their new competition - Operation Distract Junsu. Unfortunately, his repeated attempts on singing his lines eat up his quota for the day, and his one hundred sixty-eighth word escapes as a mere squeak of frustration.
“Aww c’mere baby, don’t be mad,” says Yoochun, pulling his dongseng in a hug, and Junsu pounces, tickling his hyung, bringing the other down with him. Two can play this game.
“Ahahaha! Okay okay, I’m sorry, please stop wahahah!” Yoochun hyena laughs, but silence permeates the room as his words for the day are too used up.
Changmin inches away from the room, too smart to fall in the trap. He makes his way into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator, only to reel from shock as he finds nothing edible inside.
“HYUNG, I’m hungry again, make me food!” he shouts, but he forgets this is his sixteenth demand for food that day, and before he can grumble anymore about his empty stomach, his one hundred sixty-seven words have all been dedicated to his love for food.
Jaejoong walks into the kitchen, only to be faced with the other’s sad face. “Aish, don’t eat so much before going to bed, or you will get fat!” As the magnae turns his ‘kicked puppy’ expression up a notch, Jaejoong finally relents with a sigh. “Okay, what do you want to eat?”
By the time the kids are asleep, it is already past midnight. Jaejoong flops on the bed, eyes becoming heavier with each passing moment. He looks up as Yunho makes his way to their shared bed. He opens his mouth, about to say something, but it has been a long day, and between berating Changmin (“Don’t eat so fast, there’s more food on the table!”), ushering a sullen Junsu to bed (“You’ll have one hundred sixty-seven more words to practice your lines for Mozart tomorrow”), and smacking a misbehaving Yoochun (“You’re too old to cheat on videogames, and stop distracting Junsu when he’s trying to practice his lines!”), he has no more words left for his leader.
By the sheepish look on the other’s face, he knows that Yunho has no more words left for him either, having spent it on numerous phone calls with their manager ("Is there any way the interview can be postponed? Junsu's preparing for his musical and Changmin still has his drama. I don't want them to be too tired.") But a lack of words has never been a barrier for them. As the leader joins the lead singer on their bed, hands teasingly dancing across hipbones before wrapping around a slim waist, head resting against a hard chest, his lover’s heartbeat lulling him to sleep, they never needed the language of speech to express themselves, not when their language of silence already speaks a thousand words.
Good night, I love you.
Title: The Language of Silence
Word count: 870
Pairing: Yunjae, OT5
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: DBSK do not belong to me
One would think that with the government’s new regulation, things would finally quiet down in the Dong Bang Shin Ki household. One couldn’t be more wrong.
Junsu for once is conserving his words as he quietly sits in a corner of the living room, pages of script strewn about him. The night is getting late, and he wants to practice a bit more for his Mozart musical before going to bed. He carefully recites his lines, eyebrows creased in concentration. Singing had always been his forte, notes and intonation as natural to him as breathing. Yet it was nothing new that the oyaji gag master took each of his performances seriously.
Across the room, Changmin and Yoochun are glued in their Playstation, saving the world from zombies, each intent on out-blasting the other.
“Take that hyung!” yells the magnae. Afterall, no one could dethrone him as the resident gaming master of their household. Not satisfied with being the loser, Yoochun gets his revenge - by simply grabbing the control from the other’s hands, and blasting his character to smithereens.
“I win! Who’s the winner now?” shouts Yoochun, fist-punching the air.
“Yah, you cheater!” Changmin retorts, his pitch rivaling his scream in Rising Sun as he one-touches the newly crowned gaming master - and cheater.
“You guys be quiet!” Both turn to the source of the noise - their dolphin boy sitting in the corner of the room.
“Aww, don’t be jealous just because you can’t play videogames,” drawls Yoochun as he exchanges a quick glance with Changmin. A smirk, a quirk of eyebrows, and another evil plan is born.
Up to no good, they tiptoe across the room, stopping right in front of their newest victim. Hearing the rustle of clothing, Junsu raises his head only to be face-to-face with two idiots whose faces are contorted in silly expressions.
“What are you-aish, stop that, I’m trying to concentrate!” His concentration shatters seeing the other two, and with a heavy sigh, Junsu repeats his lines. However, he has difficulty being a man longing for love and freedom when faced with two silly - but hilarious - idiots in front of him, and Junsu bursts out laughing, his eu kyang kyang replacing notes and lyrics of loneliness and heartbreak.
“Stop that you two!” he yelps, but his dolphin squeaks are in vain as the other two continue with their antics, intent on out-doing the other in their new competition - Operation Distract Junsu. Unfortunately, his repeated attempts on singing his lines eat up his quota for the day, and his one hundred sixty-eighth word escapes as a mere squeak of frustration.
“Aww c’mere baby, don’t be mad,” says Yoochun, pulling his dongseng in a hug, and Junsu pounces, tickling his hyung, bringing the other down with him. Two can play this game.
“Ahahaha! Okay okay, I’m sorry, please stop wahahah!” Yoochun hyena laughs, but silence permeates the room as his words for the day are too used up.
Changmin inches away from the room, too smart to fall in the trap. He makes his way into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator, only to reel from shock as he finds nothing edible inside.
“HYUNG, I’m hungry again, make me food!” he shouts, but he forgets this is his sixteenth demand for food that day, and before he can grumble anymore about his empty stomach, his one hundred sixty-seven words have all been dedicated to his love for food.
Jaejoong walks into the kitchen, only to be faced with the other’s sad face. “Aish, don’t eat so much before going to bed, or you will get fat!” As the magnae turns his ‘kicked puppy’ expression up a notch, Jaejoong finally relents with a sigh. “Okay, what do you want to eat?”
By the time the kids are asleep, it is already past midnight. Jaejoong flops on the bed, eyes becoming heavier with each passing moment. He looks up as Yunho makes his way to their shared bed. He opens his mouth, about to say something, but it has been a long day, and between berating Changmin (“Don’t eat so fast, there’s more food on the table!”), ushering a sullen Junsu to bed (“You’ll have one hundred sixty-seven more words to practice your lines for Mozart tomorrow”), and smacking a misbehaving Yoochun (“You’re too old to cheat on videogames, and stop distracting Junsu when he’s trying to practice his lines!”), he has no more words left for his leader.
By the sheepish look on the other’s face, he knows that Yunho has no more words left for him either, having spent it on numerous phone calls with their manager ("Is there any way the interview can be postponed? Junsu's preparing for his musical and Changmin still has his drama. I don't want them to be too tired.") But a lack of words has never been a barrier for them. As the leader joins the lead singer on their bed, hands teasingly dancing across hipbones before wrapping around a slim waist, head resting against a hard chest, his lover’s heartbeat lulling him to sleep, they never needed the language of speech to express themselves, not when their language of silence already speaks a thousand words.
Good night, I love you.