[fic] If Not This
Instead of studying, I give you this... ^^;
Title: If Not This
Pairings: YunJae
Form: Oneshot
Genre: Romance
Words: 1307
Summary: Jaejoong makes a confession, and Yunho thinks about what love is.
It’s about 11pm on a Thursday when he comes to you. The day has been full - a radio show in the morning, a TV show in the afternoon and then dance practice for your new routine until just 30 minutes ago. You stink (you always end up being last to shower somehow), and you’re tired and your brain isn’t really working all that well.
“Yunho,” he says, coming to stand next to you in front of the balcony doors where you’re standing, staring blankly out into nothing and wishing Junsu sung less and washed more in the shower so you could get in there. You turn to him, and raise an eyebrow questioningly.
Jaejoong’s eyes have always looked strange to you with those contacts - you don’t really like them, feeling like they put yet another layer of glass between the world and Jaejoong. Never the less, his face is almost as familiar to you as your own, just as his mere presence is solid and comforting, in its own way. You focus on his words again as his mouth opens.
“There’s something I think you ought to know.” He tells you abruptly.
“Yes…? What’s wrong Jaejoongie?” You ask him, trying to pay attention. It can’t be anything too horrible - you know when Jaejoong’s upset. Hell, everyone knows when Jae’s upset, and it’s fairly obvious he’s not upset now.
“I’m in love with you.” He says, point blank, like he’s talking about the weather, and you choke on your own saliva, coughing hoarsely. He pats your back and waits til you’ve marginally recovered before going on. “I just thought you should know. I mean, I’ve been in love with you for a while now. It doesn’t have to mean anything - I’m not expecting anything back. ”
“I’m the same person I was yesterday. If you have a problem with me loving you, then you’re less of a man then I thought you.” He says it with all the aplomb of a well-rehearsed radio line like the ones you had spewed out earlier in the day. You can’t do anything but blink stupidly at him. “And don’t worry! I don’t spy on you in the shower.” He says with a grin, before patting you on the shoulder again and simply walking off; as if he hadn’t just dropped perhaps one of the biggest emotional bombs of your life as yet.
When you look up again, you’re sitting on the couch (you can’t even remember moving) and the house is dark and quiet. And you realise you smell even worse, now, and hurry off to the long-empty shower, trying to figure out just what the hell had happened.
X + X + X + X + X + X
Its 3pm on a Monday when you come into the kitchen and see Jaejoong standing at the sink up to his elbows in soap suds. He looks up at you as you enter and blinks.
“She stinks.” He says to you without any preamble, as is his fashion. You blink back, completely lost even with your usual knack for (sometimes) knowing what the hell it is Jaejoong is trying to say.
“Beg pardon?” You ask, moving closer. He raises a soapy hand and points into the sink.
“She stinks.” He repeats, enlightening you no further. Well, at least you know he’s not talking about a person (Changmin’s same assessment of the female MC for that TV show you did 3 days ago rings in your mind. She did smell rather odd though).
“Who’s that Jaejoong?” You ask patiently, leaning a hip on the counter as he resumes scrubbing under the water.
“Bambi… she stinks. When was the last time she had a bath, hm?” He said meanderingly, and you stand up with some alarm, peering wide eyed into the bubbles.
“Wait, that’s Bambi in there?!” You ask, anxious. He snorts and smiles fondly at you in a way that seems to indicate just how crazy he thinks you are.
“Yes, it’s your beloved Bambi. Don’t worry, I’m using extra soft soap and fabric softener. She’ll be gorgeously fluffy and sleek after a good towelling off. And she won’t stink.” He says, ever so diplomatically. But for all his blunt words, the care is there. He’s bathing your ‘little girl’, having thought about what soap to use and taking the time on his afternoon off to hand wash your treasure. Just doing what needed to be done. You’re sure that if you hadn’t caught him at it, Bambi would have reappeared on your bed by that evening, fresh and fluffy and soft and without a word from Jaejoong about it.
You watch him wash, and think about him making sure you ate on time. About how he would yell at you to push your voice harder, making it soar on the notes, forcing you to be better. You think about the few nights where the pressure was too much, and he sat by you silently, holding your hands and just listening. Think about every time that he’d been there for you when you needed him most, and even the times when you didn’t need him at all but he just wanted to be there for you anyway.
A bedraggled, drowned looking Bambi emerges from the soap bubbles, and Jaejoong drains out the sink, singing softly to himself as he rinses her off. His hands squeeze her body, water dripping off into the sink, and you can’t help but make a face as he contorts her to get rid of the majority of water. Then he picks up the folded towel on the bench and begins to rub her dry, almost as if she were a real pet.
The towel is soon soaked, and he sets it aside, laying it out on the bench and standing Bambi on it to air dry. He turns around slowly after that, knowing that you’re still there, watching him.
He’s standing there, watching you with thoughtful eyes, and you look him over again. He’s wearing nothing special, just a ratty t-shirt picked up from one of your trips overseas, and a pair of his ‘comfortable’ sweat pants that has holes in the hems. He’s got no makeup on, is a far cry from the godly Youngwoong Jaejoong. He’s just Jae, the Jae you’ve always known and been so comfortable with.
You know, you know all too well that if you hadn’t had that conversation at 11pm on a Thursday you’d have come into the kitchen teasing or acting outraged before wrapping your arms around him from behind as you often did and just taking comfort in his presence.
But you did have that conversation, and no matter what he said, things are different somehow. He’s not exactly cautious, but he is tentative and it’s you that steps forward into his personal space; close, but not touching.
Both of you stand there like that for an endless moment, faces so close you’re breathing each other’s air. Then, slowly, he leans in just the last few millimetres, coming to nuzzle gently at your face. Suddenly all your senses are filled by him, his smell, his touch, and, with a bare whisper of lips, his taste. He doesn’t push for anything more, just content to stand there with you.
Your hands fall to his hips, somewhat unconsciously, and your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces clicking into place. He’s warm and comforting against you, just like he always is, and you wonder if, really, anything had changed at all, or if you’d just stopped denying that it had changed a long time ago. You can feel the curve of his smile against your jaw as his cheek rubs against yours, everything about him familiar and reassuring.
It all just slides into place, and you think,
What is love, if not this?
Title: If Not This
Pairings: YunJae
Form: Oneshot
Genre: Romance
Words: 1307
Summary: Jaejoong makes a confession, and Yunho thinks about what love is.
It’s about 11pm on a Thursday when he comes to you. The day has been full - a radio show in the morning, a TV show in the afternoon and then dance practice for your new routine until just 30 minutes ago. You stink (you always end up being last to shower somehow), and you’re tired and your brain isn’t really working all that well.
“Yunho,” he says, coming to stand next to you in front of the balcony doors where you’re standing, staring blankly out into nothing and wishing Junsu sung less and washed more in the shower so you could get in there. You turn to him, and raise an eyebrow questioningly.
Jaejoong’s eyes have always looked strange to you with those contacts - you don’t really like them, feeling like they put yet another layer of glass between the world and Jaejoong. Never the less, his face is almost as familiar to you as your own, just as his mere presence is solid and comforting, in its own way. You focus on his words again as his mouth opens.
“There’s something I think you ought to know.” He tells you abruptly.
“Yes…? What’s wrong Jaejoongie?” You ask him, trying to pay attention. It can’t be anything too horrible - you know when Jaejoong’s upset. Hell, everyone knows when Jae’s upset, and it’s fairly obvious he’s not upset now.
“I’m in love with you.” He says, point blank, like he’s talking about the weather, and you choke on your own saliva, coughing hoarsely. He pats your back and waits til you’ve marginally recovered before going on. “I just thought you should know. I mean, I’ve been in love with you for a while now. It doesn’t have to mean anything - I’m not expecting anything back. ”
“I’m the same person I was yesterday. If you have a problem with me loving you, then you’re less of a man then I thought you.” He says it with all the aplomb of a well-rehearsed radio line like the ones you had spewed out earlier in the day. You can’t do anything but blink stupidly at him. “And don’t worry! I don’t spy on you in the shower.” He says with a grin, before patting you on the shoulder again and simply walking off; as if he hadn’t just dropped perhaps one of the biggest emotional bombs of your life as yet.
When you look up again, you’re sitting on the couch (you can’t even remember moving) and the house is dark and quiet. And you realise you smell even worse, now, and hurry off to the long-empty shower, trying to figure out just what the hell had happened.
X + X + X + X + X + X
Its 3pm on a Monday when you come into the kitchen and see Jaejoong standing at the sink up to his elbows in soap suds. He looks up at you as you enter and blinks.
“She stinks.” He says to you without any preamble, as is his fashion. You blink back, completely lost even with your usual knack for (sometimes) knowing what the hell it is Jaejoong is trying to say.
“Beg pardon?” You ask, moving closer. He raises a soapy hand and points into the sink.
“She stinks.” He repeats, enlightening you no further. Well, at least you know he’s not talking about a person (Changmin’s same assessment of the female MC for that TV show you did 3 days ago rings in your mind. She did smell rather odd though).
“Who’s that Jaejoong?” You ask patiently, leaning a hip on the counter as he resumes scrubbing under the water.
“Bambi… she stinks. When was the last time she had a bath, hm?” He said meanderingly, and you stand up with some alarm, peering wide eyed into the bubbles.
“Wait, that’s Bambi in there?!” You ask, anxious. He snorts and smiles fondly at you in a way that seems to indicate just how crazy he thinks you are.
“Yes, it’s your beloved Bambi. Don’t worry, I’m using extra soft soap and fabric softener. She’ll be gorgeously fluffy and sleek after a good towelling off. And she won’t stink.” He says, ever so diplomatically. But for all his blunt words, the care is there. He’s bathing your ‘little girl’, having thought about what soap to use and taking the time on his afternoon off to hand wash your treasure. Just doing what needed to be done. You’re sure that if you hadn’t caught him at it, Bambi would have reappeared on your bed by that evening, fresh and fluffy and soft and without a word from Jaejoong about it.
You watch him wash, and think about him making sure you ate on time. About how he would yell at you to push your voice harder, making it soar on the notes, forcing you to be better. You think about the few nights where the pressure was too much, and he sat by you silently, holding your hands and just listening. Think about every time that he’d been there for you when you needed him most, and even the times when you didn’t need him at all but he just wanted to be there for you anyway.
A bedraggled, drowned looking Bambi emerges from the soap bubbles, and Jaejoong drains out the sink, singing softly to himself as he rinses her off. His hands squeeze her body, water dripping off into the sink, and you can’t help but make a face as he contorts her to get rid of the majority of water. Then he picks up the folded towel on the bench and begins to rub her dry, almost as if she were a real pet.
The towel is soon soaked, and he sets it aside, laying it out on the bench and standing Bambi on it to air dry. He turns around slowly after that, knowing that you’re still there, watching him.
He’s standing there, watching you with thoughtful eyes, and you look him over again. He’s wearing nothing special, just a ratty t-shirt picked up from one of your trips overseas, and a pair of his ‘comfortable’ sweat pants that has holes in the hems. He’s got no makeup on, is a far cry from the godly Youngwoong Jaejoong. He’s just Jae, the Jae you’ve always known and been so comfortable with.
You know, you know all too well that if you hadn’t had that conversation at 11pm on a Thursday you’d have come into the kitchen teasing or acting outraged before wrapping your arms around him from behind as you often did and just taking comfort in his presence.
But you did have that conversation, and no matter what he said, things are different somehow. He’s not exactly cautious, but he is tentative and it’s you that steps forward into his personal space; close, but not touching.
Both of you stand there like that for an endless moment, faces so close you’re breathing each other’s air. Then, slowly, he leans in just the last few millimetres, coming to nuzzle gently at your face. Suddenly all your senses are filled by him, his smell, his touch, and, with a bare whisper of lips, his taste. He doesn’t push for anything more, just content to stand there with you.
Your hands fall to his hips, somewhat unconsciously, and your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces clicking into place. He’s warm and comforting against you, just like he always is, and you wonder if, really, anything had changed at all, or if you’d just stopped denying that it had changed a long time ago. You can feel the curve of his smile against your jaw as his cheek rubs against yours, everything about him familiar and reassuring.
It all just slides into place, and you think,
What is love, if not this?