angeldust - Oneshot (Jaesu)
Title: angeldust
Author: kayjayloves
Chapter: 1/1
Pairing: Jaesu
Band: DBSK/THSK/TVXQ
Genre: romance/slight angst
Rating: PG
Warning: none
Disclaimer: Don't own these guys, just my interpretations of them.
Synopsis: You were young and you had this dream of becoming a star but you were afraid of your own voice. Junsu wasn’t - Junsu’s voice was beautiful
Comments: written for the_audio_mess 's second playlist. Inspired by PlayRadioPlay!'s Decipher Reflections from Reality
my parachute didn't open
and when my back up failed
the pixie dust prevailed.
He‘s a shot glass of color, curled into a ball in the middle of your sheets. Stark-mahogany hair - his angel halo shuttershined in contrast, in the morning light. (it’s a secret from the world, these angel things - these wings. only you can see.)
“What are you doing?” he mumbles. Your eyes on him must’ve woken him, somehow; you smile at the husky sleep-soft note in his voice - and shrug. Watching. Being jealous.
They aren’t the things you’d say to him, so you get up and fold yourself into the doorway. “Wake up time, ‘Su.”
It gets a moan. He collapses back into the mess of pillows and mumbles something you can’t catch, his hands blocking out the light. He's probably going to refuse to move. No big deal. You think about going to get Yoochun to come in and sit on him, tickling until he can’t breath - you know how much he hates that.
Or waking him yourself: cool hands in his hair, a smile and a kiss to his lips to tease him awake. It’s just a passing thought. He’s already thrashing around in the blankets, stretching himself out and then falling off the bed with a half-gasped squeak.
Your laughter shatters the morning air. Both hands find their way to your mouth - trying to smother the sound before it gets away from you, but you don’t quite make it and now he’s staring up at you. Sulking.
“Junsu,” you say - hope the serious tone wins out over your amusement, “We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”
“I hate the world,” he mumbles into the floor. You frown; it’s not unusual, him being like this, when it’s early and he’s not awake, but you don’t like it. “Oh no!” You exclaim, loudly. “Where’s The True Man of Charisma: Xiah gone?”
He gives you his best patented-charisma glare. You shut the door and ignore his indignant yelp on the other side.
Yoochun tells you that Junsu told him to tell you that he doesn’t like you anymore, and you glance from him to the bathroom door and say, “I can hear you.”
There’s muffled movement and then Junsu’s saying, “Yoochun, tell Jaejoong that I refuse to come out until him and Changmin and - and you too, start being nicer.”
Yoochun shrugs at you. “Junsu says he won’t come out until you and Changmin start being nicer.”
“And you!” Junsu adds.
“Junsu.” You say. Knock on the bathroom door again. He doesn’t reply. “Remember when we were trainees and you thought we were the same age?”
You remember. You were young and you had this dream of becoming a star but you were afraid of your own voice. Junsu wasn’t - Junsu’s voice was beautiful and stunning and everything you wanted yours to be. You used to wish you had his voice, would think of stealing it and making it your own. Taking his wings and flying with them.
And then he lost it. That voice you hated to love so much - suddenly it was gone. You wondered sometimes if somehow it was your fault, with those desperate wishes, that burning jealousy. How could you, you wondered, how could you want to hurt such a beautiful boy?
His voice was gone. And then he was too, with a murmured ‘hyung’ and a realization - and you didn’t try to stop him.
“I’m sorry.” You say. Yoochun stares at you, and you know he can see the shine in your eyes. “I didn’t try harder to make things stay the same after you realized.”
The lock clicks open.
Junsu starts singing, then, with the door still closed and you and Yoochun standing out there staring at each other. It’s a ballad - not one of your own songs, but by an artist you know.
It sounds beautiful.
You’ll never admit it to him - this thing you see in him, this angel. What he looks like on stage next to you with the fans silent. Watching.
When your voice lifts him higher, until they meld into one piercing note - and it’s beautiful. You’ll give anything, you know, to always see him like that. Wings out, halo shining under spotlights, reflecting off microphone stands and sweat-sheen faces.
Anything.
Author: kayjayloves
Chapter: 1/1
Pairing: Jaesu
Band: DBSK/THSK/TVXQ
Genre: romance/slight angst
Rating: PG
Warning: none
Disclaimer: Don't own these guys, just my interpretations of them.
Synopsis: You were young and you had this dream of becoming a star but you were afraid of your own voice. Junsu wasn’t - Junsu’s voice was beautiful
Comments: written for the_audio_mess 's second playlist. Inspired by PlayRadioPlay!'s Decipher Reflections from Reality
my parachute didn't open
and when my back up failed
the pixie dust prevailed.
He‘s a shot glass of color, curled into a ball in the middle of your sheets. Stark-mahogany hair - his angel halo shuttershined in contrast, in the morning light. (it’s a secret from the world, these angel things - these wings. only you can see.)
“What are you doing?” he mumbles. Your eyes on him must’ve woken him, somehow; you smile at the husky sleep-soft note in his voice - and shrug. Watching. Being jealous.
They aren’t the things you’d say to him, so you get up and fold yourself into the doorway. “Wake up time, ‘Su.”
It gets a moan. He collapses back into the mess of pillows and mumbles something you can’t catch, his hands blocking out the light. He's probably going to refuse to move. No big deal. You think about going to get Yoochun to come in and sit on him, tickling until he can’t breath - you know how much he hates that.
Or waking him yourself: cool hands in his hair, a smile and a kiss to his lips to tease him awake. It’s just a passing thought. He’s already thrashing around in the blankets, stretching himself out and then falling off the bed with a half-gasped squeak.
Your laughter shatters the morning air. Both hands find their way to your mouth - trying to smother the sound before it gets away from you, but you don’t quite make it and now he’s staring up at you. Sulking.
“Junsu,” you say - hope the serious tone wins out over your amusement, “We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”
“I hate the world,” he mumbles into the floor. You frown; it’s not unusual, him being like this, when it’s early and he’s not awake, but you don’t like it. “Oh no!” You exclaim, loudly. “Where’s The True Man of Charisma: Xiah gone?”
He gives you his best patented-charisma glare. You shut the door and ignore his indignant yelp on the other side.
Yoochun tells you that Junsu told him to tell you that he doesn’t like you anymore, and you glance from him to the bathroom door and say, “I can hear you.”
There’s muffled movement and then Junsu’s saying, “Yoochun, tell Jaejoong that I refuse to come out until him and Changmin and - and you too, start being nicer.”
Yoochun shrugs at you. “Junsu says he won’t come out until you and Changmin start being nicer.”
“And you!” Junsu adds.
“Junsu.” You say. Knock on the bathroom door again. He doesn’t reply. “Remember when we were trainees and you thought we were the same age?”
You remember. You were young and you had this dream of becoming a star but you were afraid of your own voice. Junsu wasn’t - Junsu’s voice was beautiful and stunning and everything you wanted yours to be. You used to wish you had his voice, would think of stealing it and making it your own. Taking his wings and flying with them.
And then he lost it. That voice you hated to love so much - suddenly it was gone. You wondered sometimes if somehow it was your fault, with those desperate wishes, that burning jealousy. How could you, you wondered, how could you want to hurt such a beautiful boy?
His voice was gone. And then he was too, with a murmured ‘hyung’ and a realization - and you didn’t try to stop him.
“I’m sorry.” You say. Yoochun stares at you, and you know he can see the shine in your eyes. “I didn’t try harder to make things stay the same after you realized.”
The lock clicks open.
Junsu starts singing, then, with the door still closed and you and Yoochun standing out there staring at each other. It’s a ballad - not one of your own songs, but by an artist you know.
It sounds beautiful.
You’ll never admit it to him - this thing you see in him, this angel. What he looks like on stage next to you with the fans silent. Watching.
When your voice lifts him higher, until they meld into one piercing note - and it’s beautiful. You’ll give anything, you know, to always see him like that. Wings out, halo shining under spotlights, reflecting off microphone stands and sweat-sheen faces.
Anything.