Challenge #3 - Entry 3
Title: Catch a ride
Pairing: Jaejoong/Changmin (DBSK)
Rating: G
Summary: Before and after.
Song used for inspiration: Boards of Canada - Left Side Drive
July 2009. Tokyo, Japan.
You’re in a car with him. He sweeps a few fingers over the dashboard, drawing your names into the thin layering of dust collected on the surface. You can barely make out the messy curves of his handwriting in the dim gleam of the streetlight, but you smile anyway.
“We made it,” he whispers. You peer up at the apartment building in front of where you’re parked, the slivers of light spilling from multiple windows high above. “Here.”
The smile on your lips is silent and fleeting. “Yeah,” you agree, and you know he’s not talking about the building.
--
August 2009. Seoul, Korea.
You’re in a car with him. He traces shaky figures in the fogged passenger window, his name detached from your own. You close your eyes, and wonder if it’s possible to pretend that this is not happening right now, if you try hard enough. If it’s possible to revert back to this exact position one month ago, with him in the car beside you, with your dreams still intact. You try to smile.
“We made it,” you murmur. He glances over to watch you kill the engine, the tense curve of your fingers on the brake. “Here,” you add, gesturing vaguely towards the building towering over your car. You’ve never been very eloquent with words.
The smile on his lips is far too wide, stretched out like he’s stuck pins in the corners to hold it in place. “Yeah,” he manages before he’s opening the door abruptly, his movements stiff, voice hollow. “I,” he breathes, pausing as he steps onto the pavement. His head is lowered, bangs falling to shadow his eyes. “Thanks.”
You close your eyes quietly, without a word. The door shuts behind him. “No problem,” you whisper into the emptiness, and you know he’s not talking about the ride.
Pairing: Jaejoong/Changmin (DBSK)
Rating: G
Summary: Before and after.
Song used for inspiration: Boards of Canada - Left Side Drive
July 2009. Tokyo, Japan.
You’re in a car with him. He sweeps a few fingers over the dashboard, drawing your names into the thin layering of dust collected on the surface. You can barely make out the messy curves of his handwriting in the dim gleam of the streetlight, but you smile anyway.
“We made it,” he whispers. You peer up at the apartment building in front of where you’re parked, the slivers of light spilling from multiple windows high above. “Here.”
The smile on your lips is silent and fleeting. “Yeah,” you agree, and you know he’s not talking about the building.
--
August 2009. Seoul, Korea.
You’re in a car with him. He traces shaky figures in the fogged passenger window, his name detached from your own. You close your eyes, and wonder if it’s possible to pretend that this is not happening right now, if you try hard enough. If it’s possible to revert back to this exact position one month ago, with him in the car beside you, with your dreams still intact. You try to smile.
“We made it,” you murmur. He glances over to watch you kill the engine, the tense curve of your fingers on the brake. “Here,” you add, gesturing vaguely towards the building towering over your car. You’ve never been very eloquent with words.
The smile on his lips is far too wide, stretched out like he’s stuck pins in the corners to hold it in place. “Yeah,” he manages before he’s opening the door abruptly, his movements stiff, voice hollow. “I,” he breathes, pausing as he steps onto the pavement. His head is lowered, bangs falling to shadow his eyes. “Thanks.”
You close your eyes quietly, without a word. The door shuts behind him. “No problem,” you whisper into the emptiness, and you know he’s not talking about the ride.