Arete 2/2 - It's Flawless
Title: Arete 2/2 - It’s Flawless
Pairing: YunJae
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Purely fictional! And I don’t own any of the characters~
Word count: 2336
Summary: When blank stares out the bus window turn into something more. And one learns that perfection just might lie in the little blemishes, and the other learns to extinguish imperfections.
A/N: I thought it’d be interesting to write about this! Struck me when I was doing the exact thing on a bus like so many other times(:
♥♥♥
Be a man, Yoochun!
Be a man, he mentally hisses at himself, letting his forehead up from its resting position against the door before taking a deep breath and letting himself into the classroom.
He keeps the dreaded assignment for last, trying to drag out the process of handing out the graded pieces to the students, explaining intricacies one by one. But alas, there are only so many questions that the students could ask, and he soon finds himself out of things to explain. His eyes drift to the perfect piece of work laid out on the desk beside his elbow, the colours, in all its vibrancy, threatening to leave aftershocks of brilliance in his eyes. The work is perfect, the tonal balance apt and colour coordination without flaw. He catches himself before he lets out a sigh and calls out, “Jaejoong!”, and said student is on his feet immediately. It’d be strange if he isn’t, Yoochun muses, considering how strange it must be that everyone else got their assignments back already, and I’m still holding onto his.
Jaejoong crosses the room in a few easy strides and is standing by his table, Yoochun looks up at the hopeful face and immediately silently bemoans the fact that he’s here even though he’s also a student and shouldn’t have any business sitting behind a teacher’s desk.
He holds up the assignment to Jaejoong, and watches, as the expression on the latter’s face changes - hopeful to realization to devastation. Yoochun fights the urge to bury his face in his hands and whine (why me?), and tries to end this as fast as possible, make this as painless for the both of them as much as possible.
“We’ve talked about this before, Jaejoong,” he mutters reluctantly, “the… technique is perfect. You’ll see I gave you full marks for all those components. It’s an excellent piece of work, really. Just that...”
He trails off, eyes accidentally wandering up to Jaejoong’s face and he regrets it, snapping his gaze back to the table religiously before continuing.
“…just that it’s too perfect, y’know?” he risks a glance up and catches the sight of Jaejoong nodding a little miserably.
“I know you tried hard, okay? I know. But you must remember that this is what makes our art different from-“
Talk about saved by the bell.
He sighs, leaning back against the backrest of the chair. Jaejoong is decidedly the best student in the entire class - all his strokes and techniques and colours are amazing; there is basically nothing that this university can even teach him anymore. Yoochun himself has always admired his work (though he kept it a secret), but admiration aside, he also always notices the lack of something. His works are perfect - too perfect. Yoochun often thinks art came from one’s soul. The value of it is taking something ugly and seeing something beautiful in it. Something like life, Yoochun muses, yes, something like life.
Life is ugly. Real is ugly.
Then the beauty of art is taking ugly and seeing beauty.
Jaejoong’s works… Yoochun sighs mentally. They completely omit the ugliness. It’s like experiencing happiness without ever having pain. It makes happiness less… Valuable, yes, that’s the word. Less precious, Yoochun decides.
Jaejoong doesn’t take happiness for granted, Yoochun sees that. But he also doesn’t - cannot - value his happiness as much because it’s the only thing he knows. One hell of a lucky boy, Yoochun thinks, but it makes the art empty because the heart doesn’t know enough.
Well, I’m crazy to be thinking like this, but I’m Yoochun. The professor pulls his coat from where it was draped over his chair, leaving the classroom.
---
Jaejoong kicks at the stones on the ground, a frown the size of China marring his forehead.
I tried so hard.
He doesn’t understand what’s wrong with his works. He tries so hard with them, each and every one piece of art. He pores over every single detail and makes them as flawless, as perfect, as possible. And still, the professor says that.
Every single time.
He doesn’t understand. How can something be too perfect? Isn’t perfect good? He’s so frustrated he might start to sell his soul to the devil for the answer to the question.
Please, somebody - anybody - make me understand.
---
He chased Junsu away so he can use the time to mope a little.
Junsu, with his bubbly smile and cheery attitude, who always assures him with his squeaky voice that his works look great to him, isn’t helpful to him when he wants to sulk.
So here he is, walking to sit on the bus alone, beside this person he remembers as the person he saw on another bus. He names him, He Who Is Paintable, for lack of better words.
He’s surprised, to say the least, at the words that spill from the man’s mouth almost as soon as he sits down. Seems like he isn’t the only one who remembers.
He laughs every day, and yet, there’s something different about the laughter he is able to pull out of Jaejoong, when all he wants to do is sulk.
His name changes to Guy Who Makes Me Laugh midway through their conversation, then Jaejoong remembers that they exchanged their names earlier. And it’s Yunho, who he doesn’t need to make up aliases for anymore.
Jaejoong walks home with a smile, his too-perfect artwork and intention to sulk forgotten.
---
They talk about all sorts of things, and never run out.
They talk about his dream house. Yunho says he doesn’t have one, so Jaejoong pretends to be completely appalled and proceeds to tell him about his
White pickled fences, because black wrung iron is too imposing for his taste. He’ll do up the décor minimalistic, because simple doesn’t mean shabby. He’ll put up his paintings along the wall up the stairs. He wants a garden, because his mum used to have a green thumb, and Jaejoong thinks he inherited it and can fill up the gardens with sunflowers. He wants a field of them, he proclaims, and proceeds to stare something evil at Yunho when he squishes his cheeks.
He goes on about a million other things. Then he remembers something, and announces, gesturing wildly, “I want a hot tub! Because it’s cool!”
He laughs at Yunho’s face when it turns red, once he adds that they can get in together and do naughty things.
---
Jaejoong continues to hand in less-than-perfect-because-they-are-too-perfect artworks, but he finds he doesn’t feel as bad as before when Yoochun explains that to him.
Nope, not when he gets to call Yunho on the rooftop and whine and Yunho comes around to kiss it better and they always end up with their tongues down each other’s throats. Make-out sessions with Yunho’s hands up his shirt, palming his skin, as he can only cling on tight.
---
Yunho drops by with the pot he made, except it’s been packed with soil and a plant. He’s entirely adorable, Jaejoong thinks, as Yunho’s proud beaming caught up with him, to trying to stutter an explanation about how he did it, and how he wants - and needs - Jaejoong to take care of it for him.
It ends in something romantic when Yunho says he wants them to have something together.
Jaejoong’s so sappy and so much of a romantic that he’s a total sucker for things like these, but he argues in his head that he’s an artist, and artists have emotional souls.
He accepts it - after fixing Yunho’s fingers with band-aids and kisses - and waters the cactus every morning without fail.
He wonders if it will bloom soon.
---
The words are surreal to him.
Did he really say that? Jaejoong wants to ask.
It feels like an out-of-body experience when Yunho says they should break up. He has so many questions he can’t bring his mouth to articulate that he wonders again: is this really me?
Nothing makes sense for ages and ages. He doesn’t know if he is crying as he walks away. His eyes sting, but he’s not sure if the tears are his. It’s not until he’s been lying face down on his bed for a while that he realizes that his pillow is wet - so yes, those are his tears. Simultaneously, he realizes that his knuckles hurt when he clenches his fist, and he thinks, numbly, that he’s sprained his thumb from the punch.
---
He wants to curse at the other man for the tears that are threatening to fall from his eyes. It hurts, you asshole.
Lots of colourful words are almost spilling from his mouth, and tons of scenarios with bad things happening to said man are flashing through his head, but then he takes it all back, despite never having said them out loud.
He knows for a fact it’ll hurt even more if something bad befalls Yunho.
---
Jaejoong is moping when he notices a lump by the side of the prickly stem.
It suddenly doesn’t matter that his fingers are bleeding, tiny droplets of blood staining the needles of the cactus as they dig into his skin. All he can think is that he needs to fix it; the cactus had been perfect, why was this happening now?
---
In the midst of his despair, Jaejoong discovers the most beautiful flower of all.
It’s ridiculous how he tears at the sight of the cactus bloom and even more ridiculous how he knows right at that moment that yes, this is what he is painting.
And paint he does.
---
Yoochun sees something different in this one.
The way Jaejoong hands it up with a silent air of resignation, it seems like someone broke him. Yoochun isn’t able to explain why he gives Jaejoong a hug - it surprises him as much as it did Jaejoong. He only understands when he removes the canvas from the brown envelope, and looks - really looks - at the artwork.
Jaejoong seemed like he was in pain.
---
Jaejoong flutters around a little, socializing as is expected of him - after all, it is their (his) graduation exhibition, who knows if any delegates are slinking about. After a few hours he decides he has enough, and execuses himself, stepping out into the cold air and wrapping his scarf all the way up to his nose if only to excuse himself from smiling. The prolonged exertion made his cheeks ache.
Junsu comes by and mothers him a little. Jaejoong catches him throwing concerned glances over at him, but doesn’t have the strength to assure him in any way, so he leaves him be. Junsu goes off after a while but tells him to hang in there. Jaejoong smiles a little, promises to try.
Yoochun drops by for a little while when he is once again in the gallery. Jaejoong can read all of the things in his eyes, somehow. Before this he was never able to understand what the art professor wanted, but now he knows, they’re both conflicted. In Yoochun’s eyes, there’s a war - the reflected sadness that the pain was inevitable, but also a quiet sense of shared camaraderie that they both understand how life is now. Jaejoong is grateful his professor doesn’t try to say anything, just nods, like he knows Jaejoong understands all he wants to say.
It’s finally after office hours, and unlikely that any scouts will still be there. He technically doesn’t have to be there, but it’s customary, and polite to be around at the gallery, at least, if any scouts do find their way to his work. He just wants to head home and sleep though - he’s tired to the bone. So he bids goodbye to any classmates still around, and walks out of the gallery.
The call comes just five minutes later, Yunho flashing on his phone screen and he realizes belatedly that he hasn’t thought to even delete the contact from his phone. There’s shock and there’s hesitation, but he ends up picking the call.
The voice through the phone doesn’t say much, there’s more silence than there were words. A phrase about perfection, about beauty, but Jaejoong is crying a few tears before he knows anyway, and making his way to the park they met at before he realizes.
He wipes his tears on his sleeve, and asks to meet.
---
A few months later, they are lazing around in Yunho’s small apartment. Jaejoong’s almost lying on Yunho, but they’ve managed to make it comfortable, somehow. Jaejoong loves how it isn’t humanly possible to find a comfortable position on all the bones and flesh but he manages to find that one position that’s always comfy. He congratulates himself every time. Loves how Yunho doesn’t complain either, he adds as an afterthought, when he squirms a little and Yunho only keeps steadying hands on him, and no grumbles. Loves how he just turns around and gets to meet Yunho with his lips.
Jaejoong loves everything until the phone blares and Yunho jumps for it (well he tries), almost throwing him off. Jaejoong listens to his heart working itself into overdrive as Yunho murmurs into the phone, then he listens to Yunho speak and Yunho breathe and Yunho’s heart beat.
When Yunho hangs up, it’s with an excited, animated air, and Jaejoong waits for the news to break. Yunho starts with a kiss - I like that, Jaejoong thinks fleetingly - and proceeds to exclaim excitedly that - yes, he isn’t going to be jobless anymore, and yes, that was his old friend from college and they’re going to discuss going into business together, and gods, he’s so happy he could die and yes, Jaejoong I love you.
Jaejoong barely makes out his reply before he’s swept up in a massive warm hug that squeezes him to an inch of his life. He doesn’t mind, though.
All he can think is how stupid and crazy they both are, but how stupid and crazy perfect it is.
♥♥♥
A/N: I AM DONE. Didn’t reread, sorry if there are mistakes. 2.30am in the morning, and I have school tomorrow (technically today), so. I’m gonna sleep. Have a good night! Okay? Okayyyyyy. (If there are even any of you left, sobs. I’m dying in school, guize.)
Pairing: YunJae
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Purely fictional! And I don’t own any of the characters~
Word count: 2336
Summary: When blank stares out the bus window turn into something more. And one learns that perfection just might lie in the little blemishes, and the other learns to extinguish imperfections.
A/N: I thought it’d be interesting to write about this! Struck me when I was doing the exact thing on a bus like so many other times(:
♥♥♥
Be a man, Yoochun!
Be a man, he mentally hisses at himself, letting his forehead up from its resting position against the door before taking a deep breath and letting himself into the classroom.
He keeps the dreaded assignment for last, trying to drag out the process of handing out the graded pieces to the students, explaining intricacies one by one. But alas, there are only so many questions that the students could ask, and he soon finds himself out of things to explain. His eyes drift to the perfect piece of work laid out on the desk beside his elbow, the colours, in all its vibrancy, threatening to leave aftershocks of brilliance in his eyes. The work is perfect, the tonal balance apt and colour coordination without flaw. He catches himself before he lets out a sigh and calls out, “Jaejoong!”, and said student is on his feet immediately. It’d be strange if he isn’t, Yoochun muses, considering how strange it must be that everyone else got their assignments back already, and I’m still holding onto his.
Jaejoong crosses the room in a few easy strides and is standing by his table, Yoochun looks up at the hopeful face and immediately silently bemoans the fact that he’s here even though he’s also a student and shouldn’t have any business sitting behind a teacher’s desk.
He holds up the assignment to Jaejoong, and watches, as the expression on the latter’s face changes - hopeful to realization to devastation. Yoochun fights the urge to bury his face in his hands and whine (why me?), and tries to end this as fast as possible, make this as painless for the both of them as much as possible.
“We’ve talked about this before, Jaejoong,” he mutters reluctantly, “the… technique is perfect. You’ll see I gave you full marks for all those components. It’s an excellent piece of work, really. Just that...”
He trails off, eyes accidentally wandering up to Jaejoong’s face and he regrets it, snapping his gaze back to the table religiously before continuing.
“…just that it’s too perfect, y’know?” he risks a glance up and catches the sight of Jaejoong nodding a little miserably.
“I know you tried hard, okay? I know. But you must remember that this is what makes our art different from-“
Talk about saved by the bell.
He sighs, leaning back against the backrest of the chair. Jaejoong is decidedly the best student in the entire class - all his strokes and techniques and colours are amazing; there is basically nothing that this university can even teach him anymore. Yoochun himself has always admired his work (though he kept it a secret), but admiration aside, he also always notices the lack of something. His works are perfect - too perfect. Yoochun often thinks art came from one’s soul. The value of it is taking something ugly and seeing something beautiful in it. Something like life, Yoochun muses, yes, something like life.
Life is ugly. Real is ugly.
Then the beauty of art is taking ugly and seeing beauty.
Jaejoong’s works… Yoochun sighs mentally. They completely omit the ugliness. It’s like experiencing happiness without ever having pain. It makes happiness less… Valuable, yes, that’s the word. Less precious, Yoochun decides.
Jaejoong doesn’t take happiness for granted, Yoochun sees that. But he also doesn’t - cannot - value his happiness as much because it’s the only thing he knows. One hell of a lucky boy, Yoochun thinks, but it makes the art empty because the heart doesn’t know enough.
Well, I’m crazy to be thinking like this, but I’m Yoochun. The professor pulls his coat from where it was draped over his chair, leaving the classroom.
---
Jaejoong kicks at the stones on the ground, a frown the size of China marring his forehead.
I tried so hard.
He doesn’t understand what’s wrong with his works. He tries so hard with them, each and every one piece of art. He pores over every single detail and makes them as flawless, as perfect, as possible. And still, the professor says that.
Every single time.
He doesn’t understand. How can something be too perfect? Isn’t perfect good? He’s so frustrated he might start to sell his soul to the devil for the answer to the question.
Please, somebody - anybody - make me understand.
---
He chased Junsu away so he can use the time to mope a little.
Junsu, with his bubbly smile and cheery attitude, who always assures him with his squeaky voice that his works look great to him, isn’t helpful to him when he wants to sulk.
So here he is, walking to sit on the bus alone, beside this person he remembers as the person he saw on another bus. He names him, He Who Is Paintable, for lack of better words.
He’s surprised, to say the least, at the words that spill from the man’s mouth almost as soon as he sits down. Seems like he isn’t the only one who remembers.
He laughs every day, and yet, there’s something different about the laughter he is able to pull out of Jaejoong, when all he wants to do is sulk.
His name changes to Guy Who Makes Me Laugh midway through their conversation, then Jaejoong remembers that they exchanged their names earlier. And it’s Yunho, who he doesn’t need to make up aliases for anymore.
Jaejoong walks home with a smile, his too-perfect artwork and intention to sulk forgotten.
---
They talk about all sorts of things, and never run out.
They talk about his dream house. Yunho says he doesn’t have one, so Jaejoong pretends to be completely appalled and proceeds to tell him about his
White pickled fences, because black wrung iron is too imposing for his taste. He’ll do up the décor minimalistic, because simple doesn’t mean shabby. He’ll put up his paintings along the wall up the stairs. He wants a garden, because his mum used to have a green thumb, and Jaejoong thinks he inherited it and can fill up the gardens with sunflowers. He wants a field of them, he proclaims, and proceeds to stare something evil at Yunho when he squishes his cheeks.
He goes on about a million other things. Then he remembers something, and announces, gesturing wildly, “I want a hot tub! Because it’s cool!”
He laughs at Yunho’s face when it turns red, once he adds that they can get in together and do naughty things.
---
Jaejoong continues to hand in less-than-perfect-because-they-are-too-perfect artworks, but he finds he doesn’t feel as bad as before when Yoochun explains that to him.
Nope, not when he gets to call Yunho on the rooftop and whine and Yunho comes around to kiss it better and they always end up with their tongues down each other’s throats. Make-out sessions with Yunho’s hands up his shirt, palming his skin, as he can only cling on tight.
---
Yunho drops by with the pot he made, except it’s been packed with soil and a plant. He’s entirely adorable, Jaejoong thinks, as Yunho’s proud beaming caught up with him, to trying to stutter an explanation about how he did it, and how he wants - and needs - Jaejoong to take care of it for him.
It ends in something romantic when Yunho says he wants them to have something together.
Jaejoong’s so sappy and so much of a romantic that he’s a total sucker for things like these, but he argues in his head that he’s an artist, and artists have emotional souls.
He accepts it - after fixing Yunho’s fingers with band-aids and kisses - and waters the cactus every morning without fail.
He wonders if it will bloom soon.
---
The words are surreal to him.
Did he really say that? Jaejoong wants to ask.
It feels like an out-of-body experience when Yunho says they should break up. He has so many questions he can’t bring his mouth to articulate that he wonders again: is this really me?
Nothing makes sense for ages and ages. He doesn’t know if he is crying as he walks away. His eyes sting, but he’s not sure if the tears are his. It’s not until he’s been lying face down on his bed for a while that he realizes that his pillow is wet - so yes, those are his tears. Simultaneously, he realizes that his knuckles hurt when he clenches his fist, and he thinks, numbly, that he’s sprained his thumb from the punch.
---
He wants to curse at the other man for the tears that are threatening to fall from his eyes. It hurts, you asshole.
Lots of colourful words are almost spilling from his mouth, and tons of scenarios with bad things happening to said man are flashing through his head, but then he takes it all back, despite never having said them out loud.
He knows for a fact it’ll hurt even more if something bad befalls Yunho.
---
Jaejoong is moping when he notices a lump by the side of the prickly stem.
It suddenly doesn’t matter that his fingers are bleeding, tiny droplets of blood staining the needles of the cactus as they dig into his skin. All he can think is that he needs to fix it; the cactus had been perfect, why was this happening now?
---
In the midst of his despair, Jaejoong discovers the most beautiful flower of all.
It’s ridiculous how he tears at the sight of the cactus bloom and even more ridiculous how he knows right at that moment that yes, this is what he is painting.
And paint he does.
---
Yoochun sees something different in this one.
The way Jaejoong hands it up with a silent air of resignation, it seems like someone broke him. Yoochun isn’t able to explain why he gives Jaejoong a hug - it surprises him as much as it did Jaejoong. He only understands when he removes the canvas from the brown envelope, and looks - really looks - at the artwork.
Jaejoong seemed like he was in pain.
---
Jaejoong flutters around a little, socializing as is expected of him - after all, it is their (his) graduation exhibition, who knows if any delegates are slinking about. After a few hours he decides he has enough, and execuses himself, stepping out into the cold air and wrapping his scarf all the way up to his nose if only to excuse himself from smiling. The prolonged exertion made his cheeks ache.
Junsu comes by and mothers him a little. Jaejoong catches him throwing concerned glances over at him, but doesn’t have the strength to assure him in any way, so he leaves him be. Junsu goes off after a while but tells him to hang in there. Jaejoong smiles a little, promises to try.
Yoochun drops by for a little while when he is once again in the gallery. Jaejoong can read all of the things in his eyes, somehow. Before this he was never able to understand what the art professor wanted, but now he knows, they’re both conflicted. In Yoochun’s eyes, there’s a war - the reflected sadness that the pain was inevitable, but also a quiet sense of shared camaraderie that they both understand how life is now. Jaejoong is grateful his professor doesn’t try to say anything, just nods, like he knows Jaejoong understands all he wants to say.
It’s finally after office hours, and unlikely that any scouts will still be there. He technically doesn’t have to be there, but it’s customary, and polite to be around at the gallery, at least, if any scouts do find their way to his work. He just wants to head home and sleep though - he’s tired to the bone. So he bids goodbye to any classmates still around, and walks out of the gallery.
The call comes just five minutes later, Yunho flashing on his phone screen and he realizes belatedly that he hasn’t thought to even delete the contact from his phone. There’s shock and there’s hesitation, but he ends up picking the call.
The voice through the phone doesn’t say much, there’s more silence than there were words. A phrase about perfection, about beauty, but Jaejoong is crying a few tears before he knows anyway, and making his way to the park they met at before he realizes.
He wipes his tears on his sleeve, and asks to meet.
---
A few months later, they are lazing around in Yunho’s small apartment. Jaejoong’s almost lying on Yunho, but they’ve managed to make it comfortable, somehow. Jaejoong loves how it isn’t humanly possible to find a comfortable position on all the bones and flesh but he manages to find that one position that’s always comfy. He congratulates himself every time. Loves how Yunho doesn’t complain either, he adds as an afterthought, when he squirms a little and Yunho only keeps steadying hands on him, and no grumbles. Loves how he just turns around and gets to meet Yunho with his lips.
Jaejoong loves everything until the phone blares and Yunho jumps for it (well he tries), almost throwing him off. Jaejoong listens to his heart working itself into overdrive as Yunho murmurs into the phone, then he listens to Yunho speak and Yunho breathe and Yunho’s heart beat.
When Yunho hangs up, it’s with an excited, animated air, and Jaejoong waits for the news to break. Yunho starts with a kiss - I like that, Jaejoong thinks fleetingly - and proceeds to exclaim excitedly that - yes, he isn’t going to be jobless anymore, and yes, that was his old friend from college and they’re going to discuss going into business together, and gods, he’s so happy he could die and yes, Jaejoong I love you.
Jaejoong barely makes out his reply before he’s swept up in a massive warm hug that squeezes him to an inch of his life. He doesn’t mind, though.
All he can think is how stupid and crazy they both are, but how stupid and crazy perfect it is.
♥♥♥
A/N: I AM DONE. Didn’t reread, sorry if there are mistakes. 2.30am in the morning, and I have school tomorrow (technically today), so. I’m gonna sleep. Have a good night! Okay? Okayyyyyy. (If there are even any of you left, sobs. I’m dying in school, guize.)