[FIC] JaeHo.
Something that was tucked away in my drafts a long time ago that I never posted. *crawls back into hole*
Title: Dissect the Mind and Pull the Threads Out
Pairing: JaeHo
Rating: PG-13 for implied content
Genre: OMG it got fluffy ^^;; romance, some angst.
A/N: I started this like months ago and finally finished it.
I remember seeing the following text somewhere, but I totally can't remember for the life of me where I got it. If you know where it's from, just comment and I'll credit properly ^^v
If I tell you I love you,
will you hold it against me?
If I tell you I need you,
will you walk away?
You're in there, I'm sure, making some woman laugh, girls stare at you, and men envy you, your confident stance forming an aura. I imagine you're smiling your silly grin, looking so obliviously happy like there's nothing wrong in the world and that you're where you want to be.
Oh, don't worry, you didn't promise a thing, so don't feel guilty, don't feel obligated, at all. I sometimes wonder what the hell I am to you, whether it's just some twisted circle, a spiral that tumbles down and down with no sign of upward escape.
I hate you.
I want you.
In my darkest moments, I wonder sometimes, flirting with the idea of whether a vertical slash down my pale wrist and a pool of blood, ebbing, flowing, the crimson essence bleeding into your world would mean anything. What would you do? How would you react? It's a selfish, self-centered thought, childish and petty, manipulative. I hate myself for thinking it. And I know I'll never actually do it. But the thought lingers, a misty darkness that sometimes appears suddenly like fog on a moor.
Do you know there are times when I smell your cologne, when I cap open your shampoo to tease myself, when I sit at your workstation chair just after you've been working to steal your warmth and to have it wrap around my body? It's a desperate need, one that gnaws and pulls and tugs hard, leaving me heaving and heady.
This wasn't so hard before, Yunho, when we were just trainees learning, singing, dancing, working so hard to debut, to be in a group, to rise to the top as artists. And yet now, those small, private moments keep slipping away, keep fading, as I find myself grasping for those times late at night even though you're insanely tired or those early mornings when I'm bleary eyed, but for some reason you're completely awake and energetic.
I'm laughing through it all, I'm smiling through it, I'm engaging and talking, keeping myself busy and surrounding myself with sound so I don't have to think about it, to face it when those moments of silence come and my inner thoughts invade my senses. It's easy you know, since we're doing so much in both Japan and in Korea. I can delude myself, keep my mind distracted, focus on something else. Words, shouts, whispers, melodies, the scattered notes of a piano, the rush of shower water, the dull hum of the television, sound sound sound to fill my ears full.
But at nights, I'm alone again with my thoughts swirling, images of you, of your sweet, gentle smiles, of those silly pouts you only do when there are no cameras, the feel and touch of your hands concerned if I don't look okay or if I trip or I stumble, the serious sex expression as I've dubbed it in my own mind your face shows when you're dancing, performing sweaty and suave. The images tumble and cascade together, one after another until the reels of my mind threaten to choke on the fast forwarding and rewinding.
I try to sleep.
----------------------------------
I'm breaking. I can't hold it. I'm failing. It's leaking.
-----------------------------------
You looked at me strangely today. I'm not sure what it was, but for some reason, your head was quirked and your gaze lingered.
I'm still keeping busy these days. I practice, I cook, I compose on the piano, I play fight with Changmin, I laugh with Junsu, I have long conversations with Yoochun. I figure it's one of those things that will fade away slowly until it's just a dull ache.
But you keep looking at me. It's been happening more and more often. I ask you if anything's wrong, but you brush it away with a tight smile. Am I doing something wrong? Are you mad at me?
Do you know?
That thought alone leaves me trembling and I'm extra careful to not touch you too much, to not be overly friendly. Changmin and Yoochun become my targets more and more often when I need a hug or warmth or a touch. It's easy to be silly and random, it's easy to be childish and laugh and be giddy with them.
I'm just feeling more and more awkward with you.
------------------------------
I think Yoochun knows.
------------------------------
Actually, Changmin is the one who corners me one evening when I'm about to make a late night snack. He looks at me, serious and scarily perceptive, and I try to plaster on a smile that I hope doesn't look too fake.
"Hyung..." his tone of voice lets me know he doesn't buy it, not even for a second.
"What's up Changminnie?" I check the water again, but it's still not boiling.
"Shouldn't I ask you? You've been acting distracted, rambling more than usual and looking really... well, more than just physically tired. What's wrong with you hyung?" Changmin's words hit me hard and he seems annoyed with me.
I'm incredibly tempted to hit him, to say fuck off, and I'm about to glare at him, but he's looking at me not with frustration, but concern, brows furrowed with worry. He seems to pick up on my anger.
"I'm just worried. Actually, I was hoping the other hyungs would say something. But it doesn't seem like they have since you're still acting funny."
There's a pause, but I just shake my head and say I'm been feeling a little sick lately so I might have been acting strange. Even I can tell how fake my words must sound.
"Is it Yunho hyung?"
The metal pot lid clatters to the floor, my hands suddenly shaking and trembling on their own accord. I'm trying desperately not to run away.
"Hey guys! I'm starved, just was in the music room composing... uh, did I interrupt something?" Yoochun's entered the kitchen and he looks at me and Changmin.
I laugh suddenly.
"Nothing, nothing at all Yoochunnie. Kimchi flavor ramen good with you?"
I won't, can't look at Changmin. I feel like a coward.
------------------------------
It's funny how numb you can make yourself feel. And yet, it's the only thing keeping me alive.
------------------------------
When I fail to connect the moves for the 20th time, Yoochun groans and Changmin collapses on the ground. Junsu's in his own little world, going through his moves, perfectly as usual while Yunho is biting his lip, hard. I fear he's going to yell at me.
"Let's take a break guys," he says instead, sounding incredibly resigned and tired. I slump on the dance floor, feeling failure and wishing that he had shouted at me, yelled at me, just so I could feel that I had gotten the right punishment. Yunho stalks out of the room, presumably to get some fresh air and water.
I see a towel in front of me and look up at Yoochun's face. He smiles, kindly, and sits down next to me against the dance mirrors.
"Jaejoongie?" Damn him and his voice, for sounding so caring and concerned.
"Yeah?" I shut my eyes and lean back against the cool mirror.
"You wanna talk about it later and let me know what's going on?"
I sigh, but nod anyway, knowing it's probably for the best.
------------------------------
Remind me again why I am so crazy and why I am even considering this.
------------------------------
"No, you have to turn like this on count 4. 1, 2, 3, turn and then hips like this, and da da dan, and stop."
I'm trying, trying very hard not to glare. I don't know what's been wrong with me lately, just so easily distracted and unable to focus on anything.
No, that's not true. I know exactly what my problem is, and it starts with the letter "Y" and ends in "-unho."
"Your hips aren't quite swaying on the right count. It's like this, here," and I feel his hands clutch hot on my body and it's hard not to jump, to be startled. He's only trying to help after all.
Somehow, I get through it, feeling somewhat stupid and annoyed that someone younger has to show me, though it's been like this for years. Anyway, my anger is misplaced.
He stands behind me and moves with me to make sure I get the motion just right. My body finally gets it and it all clicks and I whoop in joy, feeling ridiculous and relieved.
"Finally!" I say, and he beams, chortles out his eung kyan kyan.
The door slams open and it's Yunho, looking irked for some reason. But he glances at me quickly and just calmly says,
"You guys done? We're going home now."
We nod after exchanging a glance.
Yunho ends up sitting next to me on the van, the ride eerily silent except for Junsu and Changmin bickering about some small detail.
------------------------------
You've been touching me more, gripping my hand or my hip, almost possessively. Hope is getting the better of me.
------------------------------
I'm in the studio room, playing a melody and writing down some lyrics that flash in my head. It's late, 2 AM, but I feel inspired, a little more energetic than usual. Yoochun, my usual midnight partner in crime, is with his family tonight. Changmin and Junsu are wiped out from their earlier workout session and Yunho is taking a bath.
I lean back and close my eyes. I'm imagining a sandy dune with some grassy clumps, leading to a blue, blue ocean which stretches onwards to the horizon. Maybe we'll be able to go to Jejudo again, or Okinawa, or Bora Bora when we're much, much older, with more time.
I can almost smell the sweet scent of flowers and feel the spray against my face.
I realize two seconds later that a water droplet has actually hit my nose and there's a warmth near my back that wasn't there before. My eyes fly open.
They look up to see him, Yunho, hair spiked and wet with an unreadable expression on his face. I find myself looking, gazing, not quite understanding what's going on.
"Yunho?" I ask, wondering why he's standing over me. My first instinct is that something is wrong, that there's no reason for him to be here, this close.
He swallows and breaks our gaze to turn towards a chair, drag it towards mine. He's in a loose T-shirt, some boxers, and has his towel wrapped around his shoulders.
Yunho, is of course, ever direct.
"You've been avoiding me. No wait, let me finish. I know we've been busy, but I need to know what's wrong, what's going on. Did I do something?" His voice is determined, and his expression is serious, focused.
If I were a braver person, I would take this moment, say it all.
But I've come so long hiding it, trying to walk away, to push it behind me that I know exactly the words that will come out.
"No, you didn't do anything. I've been feeling somewhat tired, that's all, and I've been trying to talk things over with my other family and things, you know how that it is," and I hate that I have to resort to that, to bring them up when they are completely innocent, "and I don't mean it to be that way. Truly."
"Jaejoong, you need to tell me if you're not feeling well. I can't have you collapsing too. We have to always work harder, to be per-" but Yunho stops there when he notices that I'm not looking at him anymore. There's an odd tickling sensation in my throat as my mind races again, thoughts swirling.
"Jaejoong?"
"Hmm?" I look up to see his brows furrowed, mouth frowning. "Ah yeah, sorry, I--" but I can't breathe suddenly when he drags me up and bear hugs me, hard.
"Is there something going on with your family again? No, what's really going on?" he says softly, leaning closer to me so his lips are centimeters away from my ear.
I mouth the words into his chest, I love you, almost wishing they could seep into his heart and be heard. But my hot breath is trapped by his t-shirt, a bubble of hope that can't penetrate the cotton.
He pulls away slightly and looks at me so that I'm not quite suffocating in his warmth.
"What was that?"
"I..." I see him nodding, coaxing, his eyes seeming to plead for me to say the truth. "Iloveyou," it tumbles out, sounds more like "ilubu" and I pull free from his grasp. "I'm already trying to deal with it, and it will pass, I'm sure. So just give me some time, and it'll be okay--"
But I can't continue because, because my lips are suddenly occupied and it's just as quickly gone.
I raise my fingers to my lips. And stare at Yunho.
He's blushing slightly, but grins, wide and genuine.
"You don't have to deal with it. We can live it," Yunho says softly. "Together."
Title: Dissect the Mind and Pull the Threads Out
Pairing: JaeHo
Rating: PG-13 for implied content
Genre: OMG it got fluffy ^^;; romance, some angst.
A/N: I started this like months ago and finally finished it.
I remember seeing the following text somewhere, but I totally can't remember for the life of me where I got it. If you know where it's from, just comment and I'll credit properly ^^v
If I tell you I love you,
will you hold it against me?
If I tell you I need you,
will you walk away?
You're in there, I'm sure, making some woman laugh, girls stare at you, and men envy you, your confident stance forming an aura. I imagine you're smiling your silly grin, looking so obliviously happy like there's nothing wrong in the world and that you're where you want to be.
Oh, don't worry, you didn't promise a thing, so don't feel guilty, don't feel obligated, at all. I sometimes wonder what the hell I am to you, whether it's just some twisted circle, a spiral that tumbles down and down with no sign of upward escape.
I hate you.
I want you.
In my darkest moments, I wonder sometimes, flirting with the idea of whether a vertical slash down my pale wrist and a pool of blood, ebbing, flowing, the crimson essence bleeding into your world would mean anything. What would you do? How would you react? It's a selfish, self-centered thought, childish and petty, manipulative. I hate myself for thinking it. And I know I'll never actually do it. But the thought lingers, a misty darkness that sometimes appears suddenly like fog on a moor.
Do you know there are times when I smell your cologne, when I cap open your shampoo to tease myself, when I sit at your workstation chair just after you've been working to steal your warmth and to have it wrap around my body? It's a desperate need, one that gnaws and pulls and tugs hard, leaving me heaving and heady.
This wasn't so hard before, Yunho, when we were just trainees learning, singing, dancing, working so hard to debut, to be in a group, to rise to the top as artists. And yet now, those small, private moments keep slipping away, keep fading, as I find myself grasping for those times late at night even though you're insanely tired or those early mornings when I'm bleary eyed, but for some reason you're completely awake and energetic.
I'm laughing through it all, I'm smiling through it, I'm engaging and talking, keeping myself busy and surrounding myself with sound so I don't have to think about it, to face it when those moments of silence come and my inner thoughts invade my senses. It's easy you know, since we're doing so much in both Japan and in Korea. I can delude myself, keep my mind distracted, focus on something else. Words, shouts, whispers, melodies, the scattered notes of a piano, the rush of shower water, the dull hum of the television, sound sound sound to fill my ears full.
But at nights, I'm alone again with my thoughts swirling, images of you, of your sweet, gentle smiles, of those silly pouts you only do when there are no cameras, the feel and touch of your hands concerned if I don't look okay or if I trip or I stumble, the serious sex expression as I've dubbed it in my own mind your face shows when you're dancing, performing sweaty and suave. The images tumble and cascade together, one after another until the reels of my mind threaten to choke on the fast forwarding and rewinding.
I try to sleep.
----------------------------------
I'm breaking. I can't hold it. I'm failing. It's leaking.
-----------------------------------
You looked at me strangely today. I'm not sure what it was, but for some reason, your head was quirked and your gaze lingered.
I'm still keeping busy these days. I practice, I cook, I compose on the piano, I play fight with Changmin, I laugh with Junsu, I have long conversations with Yoochun. I figure it's one of those things that will fade away slowly until it's just a dull ache.
But you keep looking at me. It's been happening more and more often. I ask you if anything's wrong, but you brush it away with a tight smile. Am I doing something wrong? Are you mad at me?
Do you know?
That thought alone leaves me trembling and I'm extra careful to not touch you too much, to not be overly friendly. Changmin and Yoochun become my targets more and more often when I need a hug or warmth or a touch. It's easy to be silly and random, it's easy to be childish and laugh and be giddy with them.
I'm just feeling more and more awkward with you.
------------------------------
I think Yoochun knows.
------------------------------
Actually, Changmin is the one who corners me one evening when I'm about to make a late night snack. He looks at me, serious and scarily perceptive, and I try to plaster on a smile that I hope doesn't look too fake.
"Hyung..." his tone of voice lets me know he doesn't buy it, not even for a second.
"What's up Changminnie?" I check the water again, but it's still not boiling.
"Shouldn't I ask you? You've been acting distracted, rambling more than usual and looking really... well, more than just physically tired. What's wrong with you hyung?" Changmin's words hit me hard and he seems annoyed with me.
I'm incredibly tempted to hit him, to say fuck off, and I'm about to glare at him, but he's looking at me not with frustration, but concern, brows furrowed with worry. He seems to pick up on my anger.
"I'm just worried. Actually, I was hoping the other hyungs would say something. But it doesn't seem like they have since you're still acting funny."
There's a pause, but I just shake my head and say I'm been feeling a little sick lately so I might have been acting strange. Even I can tell how fake my words must sound.
"Is it Yunho hyung?"
The metal pot lid clatters to the floor, my hands suddenly shaking and trembling on their own accord. I'm trying desperately not to run away.
"Hey guys! I'm starved, just was in the music room composing... uh, did I interrupt something?" Yoochun's entered the kitchen and he looks at me and Changmin.
I laugh suddenly.
"Nothing, nothing at all Yoochunnie. Kimchi flavor ramen good with you?"
I won't, can't look at Changmin. I feel like a coward.
------------------------------
It's funny how numb you can make yourself feel. And yet, it's the only thing keeping me alive.
------------------------------
When I fail to connect the moves for the 20th time, Yoochun groans and Changmin collapses on the ground. Junsu's in his own little world, going through his moves, perfectly as usual while Yunho is biting his lip, hard. I fear he's going to yell at me.
"Let's take a break guys," he says instead, sounding incredibly resigned and tired. I slump on the dance floor, feeling failure and wishing that he had shouted at me, yelled at me, just so I could feel that I had gotten the right punishment. Yunho stalks out of the room, presumably to get some fresh air and water.
I see a towel in front of me and look up at Yoochun's face. He smiles, kindly, and sits down next to me against the dance mirrors.
"Jaejoongie?" Damn him and his voice, for sounding so caring and concerned.
"Yeah?" I shut my eyes and lean back against the cool mirror.
"You wanna talk about it later and let me know what's going on?"
I sigh, but nod anyway, knowing it's probably for the best.
------------------------------
Remind me again why I am so crazy and why I am even considering this.
------------------------------
"No, you have to turn like this on count 4. 1, 2, 3, turn and then hips like this, and da da dan, and stop."
I'm trying, trying very hard not to glare. I don't know what's been wrong with me lately, just so easily distracted and unable to focus on anything.
No, that's not true. I know exactly what my problem is, and it starts with the letter "Y" and ends in "-unho."
"Your hips aren't quite swaying on the right count. It's like this, here," and I feel his hands clutch hot on my body and it's hard not to jump, to be startled. He's only trying to help after all.
Somehow, I get through it, feeling somewhat stupid and annoyed that someone younger has to show me, though it's been like this for years. Anyway, my anger is misplaced.
He stands behind me and moves with me to make sure I get the motion just right. My body finally gets it and it all clicks and I whoop in joy, feeling ridiculous and relieved.
"Finally!" I say, and he beams, chortles out his eung kyan kyan.
The door slams open and it's Yunho, looking irked for some reason. But he glances at me quickly and just calmly says,
"You guys done? We're going home now."
We nod after exchanging a glance.
Yunho ends up sitting next to me on the van, the ride eerily silent except for Junsu and Changmin bickering about some small detail.
------------------------------
You've been touching me more, gripping my hand or my hip, almost possessively. Hope is getting the better of me.
------------------------------
I'm in the studio room, playing a melody and writing down some lyrics that flash in my head. It's late, 2 AM, but I feel inspired, a little more energetic than usual. Yoochun, my usual midnight partner in crime, is with his family tonight. Changmin and Junsu are wiped out from their earlier workout session and Yunho is taking a bath.
I lean back and close my eyes. I'm imagining a sandy dune with some grassy clumps, leading to a blue, blue ocean which stretches onwards to the horizon. Maybe we'll be able to go to Jejudo again, or Okinawa, or Bora Bora when we're much, much older, with more time.
I can almost smell the sweet scent of flowers and feel the spray against my face.
I realize two seconds later that a water droplet has actually hit my nose and there's a warmth near my back that wasn't there before. My eyes fly open.
They look up to see him, Yunho, hair spiked and wet with an unreadable expression on his face. I find myself looking, gazing, not quite understanding what's going on.
"Yunho?" I ask, wondering why he's standing over me. My first instinct is that something is wrong, that there's no reason for him to be here, this close.
He swallows and breaks our gaze to turn towards a chair, drag it towards mine. He's in a loose T-shirt, some boxers, and has his towel wrapped around his shoulders.
Yunho, is of course, ever direct.
"You've been avoiding me. No wait, let me finish. I know we've been busy, but I need to know what's wrong, what's going on. Did I do something?" His voice is determined, and his expression is serious, focused.
If I were a braver person, I would take this moment, say it all.
But I've come so long hiding it, trying to walk away, to push it behind me that I know exactly the words that will come out.
"No, you didn't do anything. I've been feeling somewhat tired, that's all, and I've been trying to talk things over with my other family and things, you know how that it is," and I hate that I have to resort to that, to bring them up when they are completely innocent, "and I don't mean it to be that way. Truly."
"Jaejoong, you need to tell me if you're not feeling well. I can't have you collapsing too. We have to always work harder, to be per-" but Yunho stops there when he notices that I'm not looking at him anymore. There's an odd tickling sensation in my throat as my mind races again, thoughts swirling.
"Jaejoong?"
"Hmm?" I look up to see his brows furrowed, mouth frowning. "Ah yeah, sorry, I--" but I can't breathe suddenly when he drags me up and bear hugs me, hard.
"Is there something going on with your family again? No, what's really going on?" he says softly, leaning closer to me so his lips are centimeters away from my ear.
I mouth the words into his chest, I love you, almost wishing they could seep into his heart and be heard. But my hot breath is trapped by his t-shirt, a bubble of hope that can't penetrate the cotton.
He pulls away slightly and looks at me so that I'm not quite suffocating in his warmth.
"What was that?"
"I..." I see him nodding, coaxing, his eyes seeming to plead for me to say the truth. "Iloveyou," it tumbles out, sounds more like "ilubu" and I pull free from his grasp. "I'm already trying to deal with it, and it will pass, I'm sure. So just give me some time, and it'll be okay--"
But I can't continue because, because my lips are suddenly occupied and it's just as quickly gone.
I raise my fingers to my lips. And stare at Yunho.
He's blushing slightly, but grins, wide and genuine.
"You don't have to deal with it. We can live it," Yunho says softly. "Together."