[ENG] - DBSK - Writer's Melody
Title: Writer's Melody
Author: eleawin
Genre: Angst
Character: Yoochun, Junsu, Changmin
Beta : the fabulous nadesico_chan x)
A/N: It wasn't supposed to end this way. It's very, very difficult to write in english D:
WRITER’S MELODY
By Eleawin
He is such a coward, sometimes. He wants to believe that he understands the concept of love better than the others, that he won’t be tricked. He’s the one who has suffered from it, after all. His parent’s marriage was the epitome of the worse love could offer. He knows he’s a hypocrite; writing songs about everlasting love, sweet romance, newborn affection…
Well, he may not believe in love but it doesn’t hurt to pretend to. Fangirls adore it, anyway.
*
“Why are you like this, Yoochun?”
Junsu is standing in front of him, a pissed-off look on his face. Yoochun shrugs. He’s bored and nagging the younger one has seemed a good idea. He doesn’t think he cares if Junsu doesn’t appreciate it.
“I’m not sorry,” he says.
Junsu just glares.
*
He likes the way he smiles, or laughs, or cracks a joke; and he hates himself for that.
*
“You’re very friend with Jaejoong,” Junsu says.
Yoochun laughs and looks at him from his seat in the corner of the room.
“Very?” Yoochun teases. “What are you trying to say?”
“You’re very, very friend,” Junsu mutters. “It’s great for you.”
“It is,” Yoochun agrees.
He doesn’t miss the sad expression Junsu wears for a second, but he’s good at pretending. He smiles and reports his attention to the book he’s reading.
*
It doesn’t matter if he’s hurt in the process because Yoochun knows it’s for the best. Hurting a little now is better than hurting a lot later.
*
“You’re going to regret it,” Changmin says.
They are alone in the kitchen. Changmin is eating some leftovers from the diner and Yoochun is tired and wants to sleep. He freezes and almost drops the bottle of milk he’s taking out of the fridge.
“What?”
“You’re going to regret it, Hyung,” Changmin repeats, taking a mouthful of whatever he’s eating. “He won’t wait for you.”
“What?”
“Never mind,” Changmin says. “If you don’t, I’ll go for him. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
*
Now he’s writing songs about break-up, painful memories and solitude. They were like broken lullabies he is listening to before closing his eyes.
*
Junsu is crying and he wants to be by his side, to hold him in his arms. Instead, he looks for Jaejoong and tries to ignore Changmin who is staring at him. Just go for him, Yoochun wants to say. He’s waiting for you, Changmin’s eyes shoot back.
“You should talk to him,” Jaejoong whispers.
He looks concerned and Yoochun sighs, annoyed.
“It isn’t my fault if Junsu is-“
“Just go,” Jaejoong says.
Yoochun winces. “Fine,” he says. “But I don’t understand what you are all expecting me to do.”
Jaejoong doesn’t answer.
*
Of course, deep inside, he cares. But that doesn’t mean he has to show it, especially to Junsu. He is just a friend, and nothing more.
*
“Why?”
2 am. He is unable to sleep once again and is trying to compose in the dark of his workroom. He doesn’t expect to see a sleepy Junsu in his pyjama on the doorstep. Junsu looks quiet, his eyes gleaming prettily in the dark. Yoochun smiles and gestures him to take a seat.
“What do you mean?” he asks. He takes a cup and reaches for the teapot. “Want a drink?”
“No.”
Junsu sounds uneasy. “You’re so good at pretending, Yoochun.”
He ensconces himself in Yunho’s desk chair, wrapping his arms around his knees. Yoochun tries to look composed.
“I thought we were friends,” Junsu mutters.
“We are,” Yoochun says. He doesn’t want to have this conversation.
“We’re not. We don’t talk anymore, we don’t laugh together; you have disappeared, Yoochun. Why?”
“It’s very late, Junsu. You should go to bed.”
“Tell me, Chunnie. Please.”
Junsu’s eyes are so, so pretty, shining and imploring. It makes Yoochun wants to write more songs about it. He is reaching for them now, his hand almost touching Junsu’s cheeks and…
“Go to bed, Junsu. I still have some work to do.”
*
He hears Changmin fucking Junsu in their room and can’t help but stare at the closed door. It isn’t supposed to hurt that much, he thinks. It isn’t supposed to be this way.
Author: eleawin
Genre: Angst
Character: Yoochun, Junsu, Changmin
Beta : the fabulous nadesico_chan x)
A/N: It wasn't supposed to end this way. It's very, very difficult to write in english D:
WRITER’S MELODY
By Eleawin
He is such a coward, sometimes. He wants to believe that he understands the concept of love better than the others, that he won’t be tricked. He’s the one who has suffered from it, after all. His parent’s marriage was the epitome of the worse love could offer. He knows he’s a hypocrite; writing songs about everlasting love, sweet romance, newborn affection…
Well, he may not believe in love but it doesn’t hurt to pretend to. Fangirls adore it, anyway.
*
“Why are you like this, Yoochun?”
Junsu is standing in front of him, a pissed-off look on his face. Yoochun shrugs. He’s bored and nagging the younger one has seemed a good idea. He doesn’t think he cares if Junsu doesn’t appreciate it.
“I’m not sorry,” he says.
Junsu just glares.
*
He likes the way he smiles, or laughs, or cracks a joke; and he hates himself for that.
*
“You’re very friend with Jaejoong,” Junsu says.
Yoochun laughs and looks at him from his seat in the corner of the room.
“Very?” Yoochun teases. “What are you trying to say?”
“You’re very, very friend,” Junsu mutters. “It’s great for you.”
“It is,” Yoochun agrees.
He doesn’t miss the sad expression Junsu wears for a second, but he’s good at pretending. He smiles and reports his attention to the book he’s reading.
*
It doesn’t matter if he’s hurt in the process because Yoochun knows it’s for the best. Hurting a little now is better than hurting a lot later.
*
“You’re going to regret it,” Changmin says.
They are alone in the kitchen. Changmin is eating some leftovers from the diner and Yoochun is tired and wants to sleep. He freezes and almost drops the bottle of milk he’s taking out of the fridge.
“What?”
“You’re going to regret it, Hyung,” Changmin repeats, taking a mouthful of whatever he’s eating. “He won’t wait for you.”
“What?”
“Never mind,” Changmin says. “If you don’t, I’ll go for him. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
*
Now he’s writing songs about break-up, painful memories and solitude. They were like broken lullabies he is listening to before closing his eyes.
*
Junsu is crying and he wants to be by his side, to hold him in his arms. Instead, he looks for Jaejoong and tries to ignore Changmin who is staring at him. Just go for him, Yoochun wants to say. He’s waiting for you, Changmin’s eyes shoot back.
“You should talk to him,” Jaejoong whispers.
He looks concerned and Yoochun sighs, annoyed.
“It isn’t my fault if Junsu is-“
“Just go,” Jaejoong says.
Yoochun winces. “Fine,” he says. “But I don’t understand what you are all expecting me to do.”
Jaejoong doesn’t answer.
*
Of course, deep inside, he cares. But that doesn’t mean he has to show it, especially to Junsu. He is just a friend, and nothing more.
*
“Why?”
2 am. He is unable to sleep once again and is trying to compose in the dark of his workroom. He doesn’t expect to see a sleepy Junsu in his pyjama on the doorstep. Junsu looks quiet, his eyes gleaming prettily in the dark. Yoochun smiles and gestures him to take a seat.
“What do you mean?” he asks. He takes a cup and reaches for the teapot. “Want a drink?”
“No.”
Junsu sounds uneasy. “You’re so good at pretending, Yoochun.”
He ensconces himself in Yunho’s desk chair, wrapping his arms around his knees. Yoochun tries to look composed.
“I thought we were friends,” Junsu mutters.
“We are,” Yoochun says. He doesn’t want to have this conversation.
“We’re not. We don’t talk anymore, we don’t laugh together; you have disappeared, Yoochun. Why?”
“It’s very late, Junsu. You should go to bed.”
“Tell me, Chunnie. Please.”
Junsu’s eyes are so, so pretty, shining and imploring. It makes Yoochun wants to write more songs about it. He is reaching for them now, his hand almost touching Junsu’s cheeks and…
“Go to bed, Junsu. I still have some work to do.”
*
He hears Changmin fucking Junsu in their room and can’t help but stare at the closed door. It isn’t supposed to hurt that much, he thinks. It isn’t supposed to be this way.