BABY THE STAR SHINE BRIGHT
baby, the stars shine bright
Jinki/Taemin
romance, seriousness and taemin wanting to grow up, g.
A/N: Don't own SHINee, nor the title of this story (It's a clothing brand, if you must know) Thus, alternatively subtitled: meet you halfway (but no one is counting)
This be srs bsns guyz. And yes, that down thar be an ikea lamp, image credits a moi. More bonus images to acommpany the story await underneath. You may click while reading or view afterwards
Whoo. Finished. Tired. This idea has been knocking around in my head for the past week and I had to get it out before my Music Analysis exam today. Counterpoint was yesterday. Thus, the scant music references in this piece. Points for anyone who gets it? Tell me what you think guys :)
Oh, and pimpin' my song!drabble post for requests. Help me!
For the most fleeting of moments, in that strange halfway between dreams and reality where he can still see the millions of stars on the back of his eyelids, Taemin can hear the rain.
Then, he is awake and remembers that he has not lived in a house for two years; he lives in an apartment in a high-rise building with four other boys and so, he cannot hear raindrops on the roof. The proof lies in the pale never-changing light washing the bedroom shades of gray, and shouldn’t more than two out of those three beds be occupied?
At the very least, the blanket should be haphazardly pushed back and not smoothed neatly over the sides; slippers ought to lie temporarily abandoned on the floor after tired feet slipped out and up into bed several hours ago.
The crack of light underneath the closed bedroom door indicates that the bunny slippers are not communing with their kin of the dust variety as they should be, but likely accompanying someone else.
No time to play. Or sleep.
Jinki makes an odd image, all curving muscle and dark shadows under eyes against the glassy geometric skyline of Seoul in its neon-bright entirety. His laptop is open on the kitchen table, an island within a sea of scattered papers and books.
It’s so easy to follow the fingers tapping absently at the edge of the laptop up the arm, across the shoulder and down to the edge of thin white cotton pulling its way over bare skin. Further down, ruched grey jersey-
“Taemin,”
Smile, lean your head against the doorjamb. Pretend you weren’t on the cusp of eye-raping your colleague, roommate and friend. “Hi,”
“What are you doing up so late?”
Try to ignore how light hits his throat. It’s safer to change the subject. “I noticed you weren’t in bed,”
“I have a paper I need to finish for tomorrow,”
He decides it’s okay to move closer, pull out the empty chair beside Jinki and sit. “On ’The Importance of Sequentially Descending Minor Seventh Chords in a Sequence of Thirds’? Really?”
Jinki shrugs, and he has to swallow hard as the muscles of his shoulders jump and ripple underneath skin. Taemin watches Jinki watch the darkened city as they lapse into silence. “Don’t drink that,” He finally says, turning as Taemin reaches for the mug lying next to a copy of Das Wohltemperirte Clavier. “It’s coffee. You won’t be able to sleep,”
Taemin stares down into the dark liquid at himself. He looks tired, he thinks, but not as tired as Jinki. “You’re not,” he says, lips against the rim. He takes a sip and rolls the cool porcelain his palms.
“This is important, Taemin,” The gentle bite in Jinki’s voice is undeniable, but Taemin can’t help himself.
“So is sleeping,” He must sound impossibly petulant, like a child.
“You-“ Wouldn’t know. Don’t realize what’s out there in the big bad world. Are just a child. There’s a tightness in the back of his throat and an amplifier at his heart while his brain races to fill the blanks left by Jinki’s hollow smile and the darkness flickering under his jaw.
“-should get some rest, ”
Nothing. Freakin’ nothing.
Well, something. “I don’t want to,”
“You’ll have plenty of late nights once you’re in university,”
Here he is again, running to keep up forever and a day. A constant reminder that while he’s there, he’s not quite there. Not like Jinki, who seems always to be tired and always beautiful.
“I wish I was,” he mumbles.
“Why?”
There are a million reasons he could give, but none that are good enough for Jinki. "I want to see the world. And have it at my fingertips, do whatever I want-” With you, maybe. Want to see it with you, have you at my fingertips, do what I want. With you.
“You know,” He finishes awkwardly.
“Taem,” Jinki laughs and takes his hand and presses it against the window, sliding his own over Taemin’s, fingertips to fingernails. “Look,”
He looks. At Jinki. Who continues anyway, oblivious.
“You’ve got the whole city under your fingertips right now. Literally and figuratively," The smile in his voice is audible, and when Taemin looks he's smiling like he has a secret. "You’re living opportunities most people only dream of. You don’t need to grow up faster,”
His voice softens. “Everything you need right now, you have,”
No I don’t, Taemin wants to shout. There’s always the unattainable, sitting next to him and holding his hand.
“Look at those lights,” Jinki presses against Taemin’s fingertips lightly, a virtuouso and his keyboard. “Each one of those is a person breaking up with someone or working their night job. Worrying about their mortgage payments. Getting a phone call about their son who got in a car crash- because they have to, not because they want to,”
He lets go and shifts his hand to rest beside Taemin’s. Fingertip to fingertip, knuckle to knuckle.
Side to side.
“Some day, you’ll be like them. You’ll write your own stories. And university papers,”
“Do you really think that someone out there is ending their relationship?”
“I prefer to think of it as starting an epic love story,”
Taemin thinks about the way Jinki pulls off his glasses and falls into bed as though he had slept through the entire night. The way he hums and smiles, squinting his eyes in the morning sunlight when they reach through the bundle of blankets to pull him out.
(love)
pimpin' that mastuhlist
Jinki/Taemin
romance, seriousness and taemin wanting to grow up, g.
A/N: Don't own SHINee, nor the title of this story (It's a clothing brand, if you must know) Thus, alternatively subtitled: meet you halfway (but no one is counting)
This be srs bsns guyz. And yes, that down thar be an ikea lamp, image credits a moi. More bonus images to acommpany the story await underneath. You may click while reading or view afterwards
Whoo. Finished. Tired. This idea has been knocking around in my head for the past week and I had to get it out before my Music Analysis exam today. Counterpoint was yesterday. Thus, the scant music references in this piece. Points for anyone who gets it? Tell me what you think guys :)
Oh, and pimpin' my song!drabble post for requests. Help me!
For the most fleeting of moments, in that strange halfway between dreams and reality where he can still see the millions of stars on the back of his eyelids, Taemin can hear the rain.
Then, he is awake and remembers that he has not lived in a house for two years; he lives in an apartment in a high-rise building with four other boys and so, he cannot hear raindrops on the roof. The proof lies in the pale never-changing light washing the bedroom shades of gray, and shouldn’t more than two out of those three beds be occupied?
At the very least, the blanket should be haphazardly pushed back and not smoothed neatly over the sides; slippers ought to lie temporarily abandoned on the floor after tired feet slipped out and up into bed several hours ago.
The crack of light underneath the closed bedroom door indicates that the bunny slippers are not communing with their kin of the dust variety as they should be, but likely accompanying someone else.
No time to play. Or sleep.
Jinki makes an odd image, all curving muscle and dark shadows under eyes against the glassy geometric skyline of Seoul in its neon-bright entirety. His laptop is open on the kitchen table, an island within a sea of scattered papers and books.
It’s so easy to follow the fingers tapping absently at the edge of the laptop up the arm, across the shoulder and down to the edge of thin white cotton pulling its way over bare skin. Further down, ruched grey jersey-
“Taemin,”
Smile, lean your head against the doorjamb. Pretend you weren’t on the cusp of eye-raping your colleague, roommate and friend. “Hi,”
“What are you doing up so late?”
Try to ignore how light hits his throat. It’s safer to change the subject. “I noticed you weren’t in bed,”
“I have a paper I need to finish for tomorrow,”
He decides it’s okay to move closer, pull out the empty chair beside Jinki and sit. “On ’The Importance of Sequentially Descending Minor Seventh Chords in a Sequence of Thirds’? Really?”
Jinki shrugs, and he has to swallow hard as the muscles of his shoulders jump and ripple underneath skin. Taemin watches Jinki watch the darkened city as they lapse into silence. “Don’t drink that,” He finally says, turning as Taemin reaches for the mug lying next to a copy of Das Wohltemperirte Clavier. “It’s coffee. You won’t be able to sleep,”
Taemin stares down into the dark liquid at himself. He looks tired, he thinks, but not as tired as Jinki. “You’re not,” he says, lips against the rim. He takes a sip and rolls the cool porcelain his palms.
“This is important, Taemin,” The gentle bite in Jinki’s voice is undeniable, but Taemin can’t help himself.
“So is sleeping,” He must sound impossibly petulant, like a child.
“You-“ Wouldn’t know. Don’t realize what’s out there in the big bad world. Are just a child. There’s a tightness in the back of his throat and an amplifier at his heart while his brain races to fill the blanks left by Jinki’s hollow smile and the darkness flickering under his jaw.
“-should get some rest, ”
Nothing. Freakin’ nothing.
Well, something. “I don’t want to,”
“You’ll have plenty of late nights once you’re in university,”
Here he is again, running to keep up forever and a day. A constant reminder that while he’s there, he’s not quite there. Not like Jinki, who seems always to be tired and always beautiful.
“I wish I was,” he mumbles.
“Why?”
There are a million reasons he could give, but none that are good enough for Jinki. "I want to see the world. And have it at my fingertips, do whatever I want-” With you, maybe. Want to see it with you, have you at my fingertips, do what I want. With you.
“You know,” He finishes awkwardly.
“Taem,” Jinki laughs and takes his hand and presses it against the window, sliding his own over Taemin’s, fingertips to fingernails. “Look,”
He looks. At Jinki. Who continues anyway, oblivious.
“You’ve got the whole city under your fingertips right now. Literally and figuratively," The smile in his voice is audible, and when Taemin looks he's smiling like he has a secret. "You’re living opportunities most people only dream of. You don’t need to grow up faster,”
His voice softens. “Everything you need right now, you have,”
No I don’t, Taemin wants to shout. There’s always the unattainable, sitting next to him and holding his hand.
“Look at those lights,” Jinki presses against Taemin’s fingertips lightly, a virtuouso and his keyboard. “Each one of those is a person breaking up with someone or working their night job. Worrying about their mortgage payments. Getting a phone call about their son who got in a car crash- because they have to, not because they want to,”
He lets go and shifts his hand to rest beside Taemin’s. Fingertip to fingertip, knuckle to knuckle.
Side to side.
“Some day, you’ll be like them. You’ll write your own stories. And university papers,”
“Do you really think that someone out there is ending their relationship?”
“I prefer to think of it as starting an epic love story,”
Taemin thinks about the way Jinki pulls off his glasses and falls into bed as though he had slept through the entire night. The way he hums and smiles, squinting his eyes in the morning sunlight when they reach through the bundle of blankets to pull him out.
(love)
pimpin' that mastuhlist