"Follow Me"
Title: Follow Me
Rating: PG-13. Fluff. ARE YOU SURPRISED?
Pairing: JongTae
Notes: I really admire Jill’s ability to write stories with almost no dialogue and still have them be amazing. I wanted to try D: ANOTHER FIC I DID AT WORK LOL
He loved the rain.
The smell, the steady drumming on the window, the way the tree branches creaked under the weight of the new water. He loved how Mother Nature could turn a day full of sunshine into a blackened sky, yet somehow retain the same beauty. He loved the inspiration that came from sitting in a silent room, alone with a pen and paper, the downpour whispering compositions in a tongue long since forgotten. But more than anything… he loved to watch. He loved staring out the window, lost in his own mind; lost in the ripples that the puddles made as the younger boy jumped in them gleefully. He loved the smile that tugged at his lips against his will and how the pen would somehow magically end up between his teeth.
He loved counting the seconds, the minutes, occasionally the hours he spent observing until the playful figure finally felt the eyes on him. He loved how the dark haired youth would slowly lift his eyes and smile coyly before scampering out of view. The process had gone on for months, and he could remember a time where he’d tear his eyes away the moment the other boy glanced his way. Things had changed, and their little game was played every time the sky grew dark and spilled rain upon their humble home. How long could he observe without being seen, and how long until the boy he found so intriguing could no longer be viewed period?
For now, the game was over, but from conditioning, he knew that it would continue within a small timeframe. His eyes - ‘puppy dog eyes’ as some had called them - removed themselves from the window and focused on the lyrics that had been scribbled on the parchment. A single digit tapped on the table; the vocalists own personal metronome as more characters flowed from mind to paper. Further tapping joined his own that was simply dismissed as a branch scratching the glass, or perhaps the rain had even picked up further. But no, it continued, and finally sheer curiosity caused him to look back towards the window.
He loved the way he played. He loved the condensation that had suddenly formed on his window, and he loved the poorly written hangul drawn in a lopsided heart that beckoned him to come outside. His work was tucked away into his desk drawer, and the pen placed back into his cup-filled collection. He loved how carefree he became when they were like this. How easily he slipped outside without a jacket, and how he simply brushed the idea of catching a cold off his shoulders. He loved how tiny the other boy looked when soaked from head to toe, and by this point his drenched wardrobe probably weighed more than he did. He loved how pure the dancer’s smile was as he brushed his hair away, all but skipping over to the older male.
Jonghyun was never admired for his dancing abilities, just as Taemin was never glorified as a star vocalist. That didn’t, however, mean that one could not dance, and the other could not sing.
He loved sneaking the boy away at night into his room, playing for him and teaching him basic vocal scales. He loved watching him progress as a musician, and loved seeing the joy on his face when movements became easier. He loved hearing the compliments the maknae received and silently praised himself for a job well done. He loved witnessing his confidence grow on stage, shifting from a meek boy that had to lip synch to a strong performer capable of his own solos. He loved to teach, and now, he loved to learn.
He didn’t love his height, but it seemed appropriate for this situation. Wet fingers entwined as the younger yet taller boy lead them out into open space. It was all practice and preparation for the maknae with the composer picking up all bits and pieces the other was willing to teach. A scheduled performance was quickly approaching, one which the raptor-toothed vocalist would only get to watch, and as much as he looked forward to it, he couldn’t help but be jealous of the athletic rapper who would get to share the stage with this beautiful creature. Until then, he’d eat it all up.
Water fell and splashed around them like shattered glass, each step in time to their silent audio track. He loved each risqué touch and fluid body roll; loved each fiery glance speaking what lips dared not to; loved how hot the boys breath felt on his chilled skin and how clearly they both hesitated to separate. He loved the feel of the younger body pressed tightly against his chest and loved catching the subtle blush lift to his cheeks as his arms were pulled above his head. He loved that as kisses were trailed down the neck of the trembling boy, as he spun in his embrace and relocated the lips to his own, it wasn’t just a dance anymore.
He loved the rain.
He loved what it brought him, and he loved that it stayed.
Rating: PG-13. Fluff. ARE YOU SURPRISED?
Pairing: JongTae
Notes: I really admire Jill’s ability to write stories with almost no dialogue and still have them be amazing. I wanted to try D: ANOTHER FIC I DID AT WORK LOL
He loved the rain.
The smell, the steady drumming on the window, the way the tree branches creaked under the weight of the new water. He loved how Mother Nature could turn a day full of sunshine into a blackened sky, yet somehow retain the same beauty. He loved the inspiration that came from sitting in a silent room, alone with a pen and paper, the downpour whispering compositions in a tongue long since forgotten. But more than anything… he loved to watch. He loved staring out the window, lost in his own mind; lost in the ripples that the puddles made as the younger boy jumped in them gleefully. He loved the smile that tugged at his lips against his will and how the pen would somehow magically end up between his teeth.
He loved counting the seconds, the minutes, occasionally the hours he spent observing until the playful figure finally felt the eyes on him. He loved how the dark haired youth would slowly lift his eyes and smile coyly before scampering out of view. The process had gone on for months, and he could remember a time where he’d tear his eyes away the moment the other boy glanced his way. Things had changed, and their little game was played every time the sky grew dark and spilled rain upon their humble home. How long could he observe without being seen, and how long until the boy he found so intriguing could no longer be viewed period?
For now, the game was over, but from conditioning, he knew that it would continue within a small timeframe. His eyes - ‘puppy dog eyes’ as some had called them - removed themselves from the window and focused on the lyrics that had been scribbled on the parchment. A single digit tapped on the table; the vocalists own personal metronome as more characters flowed from mind to paper. Further tapping joined his own that was simply dismissed as a branch scratching the glass, or perhaps the rain had even picked up further. But no, it continued, and finally sheer curiosity caused him to look back towards the window.
He loved the way he played. He loved the condensation that had suddenly formed on his window, and he loved the poorly written hangul drawn in a lopsided heart that beckoned him to come outside. His work was tucked away into his desk drawer, and the pen placed back into his cup-filled collection. He loved how carefree he became when they were like this. How easily he slipped outside without a jacket, and how he simply brushed the idea of catching a cold off his shoulders. He loved how tiny the other boy looked when soaked from head to toe, and by this point his drenched wardrobe probably weighed more than he did. He loved how pure the dancer’s smile was as he brushed his hair away, all but skipping over to the older male.
Jonghyun was never admired for his dancing abilities, just as Taemin was never glorified as a star vocalist. That didn’t, however, mean that one could not dance, and the other could not sing.
He loved sneaking the boy away at night into his room, playing for him and teaching him basic vocal scales. He loved watching him progress as a musician, and loved seeing the joy on his face when movements became easier. He loved hearing the compliments the maknae received and silently praised himself for a job well done. He loved witnessing his confidence grow on stage, shifting from a meek boy that had to lip synch to a strong performer capable of his own solos. He loved to teach, and now, he loved to learn.
He didn’t love his height, but it seemed appropriate for this situation. Wet fingers entwined as the younger yet taller boy lead them out into open space. It was all practice and preparation for the maknae with the composer picking up all bits and pieces the other was willing to teach. A scheduled performance was quickly approaching, one which the raptor-toothed vocalist would only get to watch, and as much as he looked forward to it, he couldn’t help but be jealous of the athletic rapper who would get to share the stage with this beautiful creature. Until then, he’d eat it all up.
Water fell and splashed around them like shattered glass, each step in time to their silent audio track. He loved each risqué touch and fluid body roll; loved each fiery glance speaking what lips dared not to; loved how hot the boys breath felt on his chilled skin and how clearly they both hesitated to separate. He loved the feel of the younger body pressed tightly against his chest and loved catching the subtle blush lift to his cheeks as his arms were pulled above his head. He loved that as kisses were trailed down the neck of the trembling boy, as he spun in his embrace and relocated the lips to his own, it wasn’t just a dance anymore.
He loved the rain.
He loved what it brought him, and he loved that it stayed.