like this, it's always been (1/5 of The Mothers series)
like this, it's always been
No pairing; from Yunho's mother's POV.
Fluff, G; 704 words.
Even when you can't see them, it's always been the mothers that have been secretly supporting them, encouraging them. This is the story of DBSK's mothers, and how they cope with their sons' fame.
Disclaimer: I do not know Yunho's mother; everything here is just a figment of my imagination.
I want to be like Father one day.
The eyes gazing up at her were solemn, and Yunho’s quiet words linger in the air. She smiles gently down at him, and doesn’t say anything except, Do you, now? She doesn’t mention how she’s notices the way his eyes tend to linger on the idols he sees, or how, once, she saw him dancing along to the then-popular song when he thought no one was looking. She’ll let him have the ability to choose what he wants to become in the future.
She leans down to whisper, You would be amazing as a prosecutor, Yunho-yah, and grins at the shy smile accompanied with a slight blush that appears on his face.
She rubs her eyes tiredly and takes off her careworn jacket to cover her sleeping daughter’s form, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to try to ward off the chill. Another jacket suddenly drops onto her shoulders, and she hears Yunho’s quiet murmur, Here, wear my jacket, Mother. She turns her head to look at him, and her heart hurts to see the serious young man in front of her. (He should be having the best times of his life right now, she silently mourns, not here worrying with us about how to survive.)
I… I’m going to go try out for SM, he says, not meeting her eyes. I know I shouldn’t, you and Father both need me to help earn money, I’m probably not going to be accepted anyways, I should -
She studies him for a few moments with her hand covering his mouth; taking her hand away, she replies, simply, Go.
She runs frantically down the hospital’s hallways, searching for her son’s room. Finding it, she rushes inside, coming to a sudden stop at the sight of Yunho. She couldn’t stop the tears; He’s so pale, she sobs. Hands shaking, she smoothes the hair away from his face, unconsciously checking for a fever, years of being a mother ingrained into her actions even when she hasn’t had much chance to be one to Yunho in years.
She hears a hoarse voice behind her say, I’m sorry. She turns to look at Jaejoong who, with his disheveled hair, stubble, and red, swollen eyes, looks even more shaken than she feels. She smiles tenderly, For what?
For not being able to take care of Yunho-yah better, he whispers, for not being there when he needed me most, for -
She shakes her head and murmurs, as she pulls the boy (They’re not boys anymore, she admonishes herself) into her arms, No, Jaejoong-ah, it wasn’t your fault. It was just bad luck, that’s all. The four other members had, over time, come to be like her own sons, and she, more than anything else, couldn’t stand when they get injured.
She glances behind her at the sound of the door being opened, and the other three walk in, all in the same shape as the crying man she’s holding. She invites them into her arms, and three other heads are laid onto her shoulders while she silently holds in her tears, comforting the other victims the only thing she knows how to do in their world.
The day before Dong Bang Shin Ki’s expected return to Korea after one year and seven months, she, along with the other members’ mothers, are in the boys’ apartment, cleaning, dusting, airing out the linens, stocking the refrigerator with food, all just for the sake of the boys’ comfort. She’s the one controlling the effort, the mantle of leadership on her shoulders just like how her son leads his members, and she makes sure everything’s done and ready.
The next day, at the airport, she and the others wait anxiously, waiting for the sight of five boys (No, men, her mind continues to remind her), and when they finally come out of the terminal, luggage either slung over their shoulders or on the cart their manager’s pushing, she feels tears spring into her eyes and a wide, happy smile spread across her face. She looks next to her and sees the others just like herself, smiling and crying at the same time.
Welcome home.
I know that the chances of DBSK ever arriving in an airport without fangirls stalking are close to none, but let's just pretend it's possible here :D Jaejoong's mother's story.
No pairing; from Yunho's mother's POV.
Fluff, G; 704 words.
Even when you can't see them, it's always been the mothers that have been secretly supporting them, encouraging them. This is the story of DBSK's mothers, and how they cope with their sons' fame.
Disclaimer: I do not know Yunho's mother; everything here is just a figment of my imagination.
I want to be like Father one day.
The eyes gazing up at her were solemn, and Yunho’s quiet words linger in the air. She smiles gently down at him, and doesn’t say anything except, Do you, now? She doesn’t mention how she’s notices the way his eyes tend to linger on the idols he sees, or how, once, she saw him dancing along to the then-popular song when he thought no one was looking. She’ll let him have the ability to choose what he wants to become in the future.
She leans down to whisper, You would be amazing as a prosecutor, Yunho-yah, and grins at the shy smile accompanied with a slight blush that appears on his face.
She rubs her eyes tiredly and takes off her careworn jacket to cover her sleeping daughter’s form, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to try to ward off the chill. Another jacket suddenly drops onto her shoulders, and she hears Yunho’s quiet murmur, Here, wear my jacket, Mother. She turns her head to look at him, and her heart hurts to see the serious young man in front of her. (He should be having the best times of his life right now, she silently mourns, not here worrying with us about how to survive.)
I… I’m going to go try out for SM, he says, not meeting her eyes. I know I shouldn’t, you and Father both need me to help earn money, I’m probably not going to be accepted anyways, I should -
She studies him for a few moments with her hand covering his mouth; taking her hand away, she replies, simply, Go.
She runs frantically down the hospital’s hallways, searching for her son’s room. Finding it, she rushes inside, coming to a sudden stop at the sight of Yunho. She couldn’t stop the tears; He’s so pale, she sobs. Hands shaking, she smoothes the hair away from his face, unconsciously checking for a fever, years of being a mother ingrained into her actions even when she hasn’t had much chance to be one to Yunho in years.
She hears a hoarse voice behind her say, I’m sorry. She turns to look at Jaejoong who, with his disheveled hair, stubble, and red, swollen eyes, looks even more shaken than she feels. She smiles tenderly, For what?
For not being able to take care of Yunho-yah better, he whispers, for not being there when he needed me most, for -
She shakes her head and murmurs, as she pulls the boy (They’re not boys anymore, she admonishes herself) into her arms, No, Jaejoong-ah, it wasn’t your fault. It was just bad luck, that’s all. The four other members had, over time, come to be like her own sons, and she, more than anything else, couldn’t stand when they get injured.
She glances behind her at the sound of the door being opened, and the other three walk in, all in the same shape as the crying man she’s holding. She invites them into her arms, and three other heads are laid onto her shoulders while she silently holds in her tears, comforting the other victims the only thing she knows how to do in their world.
The day before Dong Bang Shin Ki’s expected return to Korea after one year and seven months, she, along with the other members’ mothers, are in the boys’ apartment, cleaning, dusting, airing out the linens, stocking the refrigerator with food, all just for the sake of the boys’ comfort. She’s the one controlling the effort, the mantle of leadership on her shoulders just like how her son leads his members, and she makes sure everything’s done and ready.
The next day, at the airport, she and the others wait anxiously, waiting for the sight of five boys (No, men, her mind continues to remind her), and when they finally come out of the terminal, luggage either slung over their shoulders or on the cart their manager’s pushing, she feels tears spring into her eyes and a wide, happy smile spread across her face. She looks next to her and sees the others just like herself, smiling and crying at the same time.
Welcome home.
I know that the chances of DBSK ever arriving in an airport without fangirls stalking are close to none, but let's just pretend it's possible here :D Jaejoong's mother's story.