I fell (to) Where; MinSu (response to flashfic challenge 24: half a conversation)
Title: I fell (to) where
Author: Reeza (skyfever)
Word count: 663 words
Concrit?: Sure.
Pairing: MinSu
Rating: PG-16
Summary: They're not made for Paris. (for dbsk_flashfic @ flashfic challenge 24: half a conversation)
Notes: It's been too long since I last wrote a substantial Dong Bang fic, so pardon the overall sloppiness of this piece, but I hope you guys will enjoy the piece as much as I enjoyed writing it. :D And the title is my lame attempt at coming up with a good... title. Yeah. :|
We'll never have Paris.
(We can never not lie.)
They weren't made for this, city lights and art and history - Paris. They're made for games and bickering, for brotherly fights over who's going to do the dishes, not for sweet, cheesy love stuff. They're not made for this.
Prague, however, is a different case altogether. Though Prague reeks with history just the same, Prague is a place of secrets, of things yet to be unveiled, and this is exactly what they are - figures in the dark, dancing around each other, feeling for one another forever.
In the morning, Prague is a witness to the normal bickering, to the endless chat about games and to a breakfast spent opposite each other, the occasional glancing thrown in somewhere in between. Junsu remembers gesturing Changmin to give him the plate of pancakes, to give him just one, but Changmin doesn't and, instead, says Why don't you get it yourself? So Junsu does so and they're skin on skin for half a heartbeat before he gets things done.
The pancake is dropped sloppily on his plate.
In the afternoon, Prague bears witness to things left undone, with the promise of the evening just around the corner. Passing glances, light pats on the back, calls of Mario Kart? I'm gonna beat your sorry ass. and Get ready to be disgraced, Shim! thrown at each other, coating statements that go along the lines of Stay with me? and Later, later. They're masters of dilly-dallying, of waltzing and, at some point, Jaejoong starts asking, Are you two mental or are you in love? Yoochun chuckles, Yunho asks, They are? Junsu chokes midway through his story-telling about soccer and how whiny Princess Peach can be. Changmin shrugs it off.
A light squeeze of the arm is the assurance that they indeed are.
Finally, the evening comes, and they bare themselves for the darkness of the night to see. It's suffocating here in the bathroom and there's barely any time for breathing, so they make it quick - the rest of the day is foreplay, so foreplay be damned; Changmin pushes himself inside Junsu, quickly but carefully, and Junsu bites back the half-choked Fuck you, Shim-, the I love you dancing at the tip of his tongue.
When they both come and Junsu's resting his head on Changmin's shoulder, Changmin runs his fingers through Junsu's hair, makes sure that Junsu never hears him saying I love you more, makes sure Junsu will never know.
They could have Paris, but it's not their cup of tea.
But it's hard, hard to not think of how Prague and Paris can somehow align, how Brazil is too far away and how slow time creeps when you're not having any fun at all. Of course Junsu calls Changmin at the dead of the night, asks, Miss me?, and the only thing Changmin can give as a reply is Damn right, you are. Changmin tries to not count the days till they'd be five again because he'll be excited and they'd know and he can't afford that to happen, because five minus one is zero - they're not Dong Bang Shin Ki when they're like this, and he's incomplete.
(Jaejoong creeps from behind him one night - Tomorrow, he says, pausing for a while then promptly continuing, tomorrow, welcome him home. He shrugs, sighs. Yeah, home.)
So when Junsu finally arrives at Paris, finally reunites with the rest of the group, Changmin just remains rooted on that same spot where he's been waiting all morning while Jaejoong and Yoochun are flailing about, calling Junsu's name. Jaejoong nudges him in the side, and he swears he sees Yoochun look at him for a split-second. Junsu's walking closer, closer, and their eyes finally meet when he decides to do as Jaejoong has told him - to welcome him home. Junsu's smile is faint against the harsh sunlight, but he sees right through it. He smiles just as faintly, in return.
And like this, they taint Paris with their secrets, not with lies.
Author: Reeza (skyfever)
Word count: 663 words
Concrit?: Sure.
Pairing: MinSu
Rating: PG-16
Summary: They're not made for Paris. (for dbsk_flashfic @ flashfic challenge 24: half a conversation)
Notes: It's been too long since I last wrote a substantial Dong Bang fic, so pardon the overall sloppiness of this piece, but I hope you guys will enjoy the piece as much as I enjoyed writing it. :D And the title is my lame attempt at coming up with a good... title. Yeah. :|
We'll never have Paris.
(We can never not lie.)
They weren't made for this, city lights and art and history - Paris. They're made for games and bickering, for brotherly fights over who's going to do the dishes, not for sweet, cheesy love stuff. They're not made for this.
Prague, however, is a different case altogether. Though Prague reeks with history just the same, Prague is a place of secrets, of things yet to be unveiled, and this is exactly what they are - figures in the dark, dancing around each other, feeling for one another forever.
In the morning, Prague is a witness to the normal bickering, to the endless chat about games and to a breakfast spent opposite each other, the occasional glancing thrown in somewhere in between. Junsu remembers gesturing Changmin to give him the plate of pancakes, to give him just one, but Changmin doesn't and, instead, says Why don't you get it yourself? So Junsu does so and they're skin on skin for half a heartbeat before he gets things done.
The pancake is dropped sloppily on his plate.
In the afternoon, Prague bears witness to things left undone, with the promise of the evening just around the corner. Passing glances, light pats on the back, calls of Mario Kart? I'm gonna beat your sorry ass. and Get ready to be disgraced, Shim! thrown at each other, coating statements that go along the lines of Stay with me? and Later, later. They're masters of dilly-dallying, of waltzing and, at some point, Jaejoong starts asking, Are you two mental or are you in love? Yoochun chuckles, Yunho asks, They are? Junsu chokes midway through his story-telling about soccer and how whiny Princess Peach can be. Changmin shrugs it off.
A light squeeze of the arm is the assurance that they indeed are.
Finally, the evening comes, and they bare themselves for the darkness of the night to see. It's suffocating here in the bathroom and there's barely any time for breathing, so they make it quick - the rest of the day is foreplay, so foreplay be damned; Changmin pushes himself inside Junsu, quickly but carefully, and Junsu bites back the half-choked Fuck you, Shim-, the I love you dancing at the tip of his tongue.
When they both come and Junsu's resting his head on Changmin's shoulder, Changmin runs his fingers through Junsu's hair, makes sure that Junsu never hears him saying I love you more, makes sure Junsu will never know.
They could have Paris, but it's not their cup of tea.
But it's hard, hard to not think of how Prague and Paris can somehow align, how Brazil is too far away and how slow time creeps when you're not having any fun at all. Of course Junsu calls Changmin at the dead of the night, asks, Miss me?, and the only thing Changmin can give as a reply is Damn right, you are. Changmin tries to not count the days till they'd be five again because he'll be excited and they'd know and he can't afford that to happen, because five minus one is zero - they're not Dong Bang Shin Ki when they're like this, and he's incomplete.
(Jaejoong creeps from behind him one night - Tomorrow, he says, pausing for a while then promptly continuing, tomorrow, welcome him home. He shrugs, sighs. Yeah, home.)
So when Junsu finally arrives at Paris, finally reunites with the rest of the group, Changmin just remains rooted on that same spot where he's been waiting all morning while Jaejoong and Yoochun are flailing about, calling Junsu's name. Jaejoong nudges him in the side, and he swears he sees Yoochun look at him for a split-second. Junsu's walking closer, closer, and their eyes finally meet when he decides to do as Jaejoong has told him - to welcome him home. Junsu's smile is faint against the harsh sunlight, but he sees right through it. He smiles just as faintly, in return.
And like this, they taint Paris with their secrets, not with lies.