Fic type thingie.
Word count: 900
Run on sentences are rampant, and shocku~ This is basically gen. Maybe a bit fluffy if you squint. Inspired by the J-Rising Sun MV, and includes: kneeangst!jae scarily-spacey-yet-perceptive!min ™ Tokyo holiday banjun, and a smidge of mommahen!yun
No title as of yet, as I kind of just blurbed my way through this in the update window. I call it the 'breaking through writer's block' story. 8D
and the tiny reference to rocky horror wasn’t intentional…at first. :P
it's just a jump to the left and…
It should be easily done, just as it's easily said. Move your feet, flex your muscles, defy gravity for a few seconds. Something that's been done countless times before with wild abandon and no second thoughts at all.
But that was before the awkward landing and unheard tear that threw everything into chaos.
Jaejoong stared blankly at a stained patch in the concrete floor, water bottle held perched on his lower lip. He could feel them staring and hear the faint whispers from the cluster of backup dancers, their words crawling up the back of his neck and making his skin prickle. It was all he could do to not scratch madly at the unease tingling along his scalp. He'd lost count of how many times Yunho had come near to ask if he was alright, of how many times Yoochun and Junsu's eyes swung his direction each time the director called for a cut, and of how many times he'd glanced Changmin's way only to find him fussing with his hair or clothing and staring at some unseen focus spot in the distance where, apparently, he'd filed all the steps, lyrics and gestures away like a memory stick. The last, Jaejoong thought, was odd, normal, and relieving all at the same time. That was the Changmin he knew, after all.
The ninth take went by without any problems, and this time when Yunho started heading his way, Jaejoong scowled and moved into a silly looking self defense stance, water bottle clutched and ready. He got the hint this time and jogged over to pounce on Yoochun's back instead. And people say he's the motherly type? If Yunho wasn't careful he'd spout feathers and a hen'ish beak very soon. Jae let out a breath, rolled his eyes and relaxed, standing still as a make up artist went to work on blotting any sweat away and retouching what needed a fresh coat of powder when the director announced a twenty minute break while he did spot editing and changed film.
Bodies scurried past him, brushing hands over his arms or shoulders, whispering words of encouragement that he tried to reply to with a genuine smile or two. It took massive amounts of willpower for Jaejoong to not simply sit down right where he was on the cool and welcoming floor. Sit there until his muscles stopped their pulsing rhythm of exertion and his breathing returned to a normal rate. Waiting for all the tension and pressure crushing down on his back like a rampaging shoulder-devil to somehow seep into the ground instead of his bones. Didn't they realize all the fuss was driving him mad? He knew they meant well. The concern was touching, but...
It wasn't going to happen again. He was not going to fall. His body wouldn't betray him like that anymore.
Was it? Would it? Could it?
There wasn't any time for his thoughts to linger in the murky gray, because with a scrape of metal on stone, something suddenly pressed against the backs of his knees and had him flailing for balance before he fell backward.
Into a folding chair. The back of which was held by a smugly smiling Changmin.
"Oops. How clumsy of you, hyung." He said, laughter creasing the corners of his eyes. "You should be more careful."
"Idiot," Jaejoong hissed, although he was grinning in earnest for the first time that day. "you scared the life out of me."
"Mm? You don't look very ghostly to me." Changmin leaned down and went to poke at Jae's ribs then feigned an alarmed squeak when his hands were batted away. Had Jaejoong just snorted? "Was that supposed to be a laugh? Actually, I was curious..."
Incredulous, Jae punched Min in the arm. "Tch...Shaddap." Falling into a sulky pout, arms crossed, Jaejoong canted his head just enough to look at Changmin's face, awaiting the continuation he knew was coming. 'Shut up' meant nothing to Min when he was being ornery.
"Dinner...ow." A mere hiccup in speech, "you haven't cooked for us in awhile. I want pork tonight. And oysters." The last added with a grin as Changmin shot quick looks in Yoochun and Junsu's direction, "they won't like it, but all the more for me. Pizza would be good, and maybe more horse meat." He laughed when Jaejoong blanched, but was sure to duck out of swatting range this time. "That's okay, isn't it? Would you?"
Jaejoong had to agree that it'd been too long, and he was getting tired of ordering in all the time himself. "...Yeah. Okay." Working with fire and metal and raw ingredients to create something fabulous, no matter how temporary, had always been therapeutic for him in a way. "No horse though." he sternly added, though terribly amused by the crestfallen look on the youngest member's face.
"Fiiii~ne. You drive a hard bargain, but it's a deal." Changmin leaned close again and snatched the bottle hanging loosely from Jaejoong's grip. "It's empty." With the briefest touch to Jae's right knee, Min headed off in search of a refill, the elder boy watching after him in wonder. How that kid always managed to distract, derail and otherwise diffuse the negative in everything with such simplicity was a complete mystery to Jaejoong.
One he never hoped to solve, because that was the Changmin he knew, after all.
Run on sentences are rampant, and shocku~ This is basically gen. Maybe a bit fluffy if you squint. Inspired by the J-Rising Sun MV, and includes: kneeangst!jae scarily-spacey-yet-perceptive!min ™ Tokyo holiday banjun, and a smidge of mommahen!yun
No title as of yet, as I kind of just blurbed my way through this in the update window. I call it the 'breaking through writer's block' story. 8D
and the tiny reference to rocky horror wasn’t intentional…at first. :P
it's just a jump to the left and…
It should be easily done, just as it's easily said. Move your feet, flex your muscles, defy gravity for a few seconds. Something that's been done countless times before with wild abandon and no second thoughts at all.
But that was before the awkward landing and unheard tear that threw everything into chaos.
Jaejoong stared blankly at a stained patch in the concrete floor, water bottle held perched on his lower lip. He could feel them staring and hear the faint whispers from the cluster of backup dancers, their words crawling up the back of his neck and making his skin prickle. It was all he could do to not scratch madly at the unease tingling along his scalp. He'd lost count of how many times Yunho had come near to ask if he was alright, of how many times Yoochun and Junsu's eyes swung his direction each time the director called for a cut, and of how many times he'd glanced Changmin's way only to find him fussing with his hair or clothing and staring at some unseen focus spot in the distance where, apparently, he'd filed all the steps, lyrics and gestures away like a memory stick. The last, Jaejoong thought, was odd, normal, and relieving all at the same time. That was the Changmin he knew, after all.
The ninth take went by without any problems, and this time when Yunho started heading his way, Jaejoong scowled and moved into a silly looking self defense stance, water bottle clutched and ready. He got the hint this time and jogged over to pounce on Yoochun's back instead. And people say he's the motherly type? If Yunho wasn't careful he'd spout feathers and a hen'ish beak very soon. Jae let out a breath, rolled his eyes and relaxed, standing still as a make up artist went to work on blotting any sweat away and retouching what needed a fresh coat of powder when the director announced a twenty minute break while he did spot editing and changed film.
Bodies scurried past him, brushing hands over his arms or shoulders, whispering words of encouragement that he tried to reply to with a genuine smile or two. It took massive amounts of willpower for Jaejoong to not simply sit down right where he was on the cool and welcoming floor. Sit there until his muscles stopped their pulsing rhythm of exertion and his breathing returned to a normal rate. Waiting for all the tension and pressure crushing down on his back like a rampaging shoulder-devil to somehow seep into the ground instead of his bones. Didn't they realize all the fuss was driving him mad? He knew they meant well. The concern was touching, but...
It wasn't going to happen again. He was not going to fall. His body wouldn't betray him like that anymore.
Was it? Would it? Could it?
There wasn't any time for his thoughts to linger in the murky gray, because with a scrape of metal on stone, something suddenly pressed against the backs of his knees and had him flailing for balance before he fell backward.
Into a folding chair. The back of which was held by a smugly smiling Changmin.
"Oops. How clumsy of you, hyung." He said, laughter creasing the corners of his eyes. "You should be more careful."
"Idiot," Jaejoong hissed, although he was grinning in earnest for the first time that day. "you scared the life out of me."
"Mm? You don't look very ghostly to me." Changmin leaned down and went to poke at Jae's ribs then feigned an alarmed squeak when his hands were batted away. Had Jaejoong just snorted? "Was that supposed to be a laugh? Actually, I was curious..."
Incredulous, Jae punched Min in the arm. "Tch...Shaddap." Falling into a sulky pout, arms crossed, Jaejoong canted his head just enough to look at Changmin's face, awaiting the continuation he knew was coming. 'Shut up' meant nothing to Min when he was being ornery.
"Dinner...ow." A mere hiccup in speech, "you haven't cooked for us in awhile. I want pork tonight. And oysters." The last added with a grin as Changmin shot quick looks in Yoochun and Junsu's direction, "they won't like it, but all the more for me. Pizza would be good, and maybe more horse meat." He laughed when Jaejoong blanched, but was sure to duck out of swatting range this time. "That's okay, isn't it? Would you?"
Jaejoong had to agree that it'd been too long, and he was getting tired of ordering in all the time himself. "...Yeah. Okay." Working with fire and metal and raw ingredients to create something fabulous, no matter how temporary, had always been therapeutic for him in a way. "No horse though." he sternly added, though terribly amused by the crestfallen look on the youngest member's face.
"Fiiii~ne. You drive a hard bargain, but it's a deal." Changmin leaned close again and snatched the bottle hanging loosely from Jaejoong's grip. "It's empty." With the briefest touch to Jae's right knee, Min headed off in search of a refill, the elder boy watching after him in wonder. How that kid always managed to distract, derail and otherwise diffuse the negative in everything with such simplicity was a complete mystery to Jaejoong.
One he never hoped to solve, because that was the Changmin he knew, after all.