this is(n't) paradise - Oneshot (Jaechun)
Title: this is(n't) paradise.
Author: miyamoto & skybacktoblue
Pairing: Jaejoong/Yoochun
Band: DBSK/THSK/TVXQ
Word Count: 533
Genre: angst/romance
Rating: pg-13
Warning: character death
Disclaimer: Don't own these guys, just my interpretations of them.
Synopsis: ‘heaven is down.’
Comments: this entire thing was co-written back and forth by text message on our phones and then copied to a word doc & formatted. orig posted here on hug
‘don’t look so concerned, baby,’ yoochun says, speeding past a dirty do not enter sign. one hand at 12 (midnight) on the wheel. they’re on the speedway to hell (or beyond) with jaejoong’s pinky finger stuck straight out the window as yoochun laughs at his own words. jaejoong cracks a smile--incline. the car’s frame whines; yoochun’s smooth mumble about 4-wheel drive. ‘i didn’t know hell went up.’
‘heaven is down,’ jaejoong replies. he isn’t really listening.
‘how do you figure,’ yoochun grins. there’s a cheap rosary on the rearview mirror, swaying.
‘every sin points up.’ and there’s a contented silence as yoochun interprets it as he pleases.
they summit and the car levels. yoochun hums, kills the engine, ‘i guess.’ city lights boom from below, full of skyscaper bones and highway veins. there’s a moth hitting against the window, pitpat pitpat, and jaejoong chuckles. ‘we could’ve gone on like this forever.’ pitpat.
‘okay. i think it likes you.’ yoochun leans over and traces moth patterns on the window tint (on jaejoong.) there’s no reply, just the soft rhythm of jaejoong’s breaths and the taps against the window. it’s almost a new moon.
‘hey, get out.’ yoochun pushes the passenger door open. orange lights, a crane, tomorrow’s date on caution tape. it won’t matter then. they sit on the hood and jaejoong bats half-heartedly at moths. appreciative silence, until he says ‘is this where you kill me?’
it’s yoochun’s turn at silence. he plays with his own wrist, smiles fondly. ‘i’m trying to quit smoking, you know.’ there’s half a pack left in his back pocket, the cheap kind, the ones he found when he forgot to bum a pack of jaejoong’s. ‘that’ll get you out of hell,’ jaejoong comments.
‘nah. we can only get higher from here.’ like laughter at 2am, purple highways on pale arms. they’d exist just to be in this moment.
‘was it always this good?’ the taste of air and ash--jaejoong’s smile is like that. yoochun digs his last pack out, ‘you were my favorite.’
‘mm.’ jaejoong takes a cigarette, and nearly trips sliding off the hood for the lighter. ‘these don’t taste like heaven.’ he says.
‘you could always jump and see if that gets you there faster.’ yoochun forgot a blindfold. he smiles, cheeky.
‘if you push me does that mean you’ll never meet me there?’ jaejoong offers him the lighter. he eyes the the city, black-starred gaze. yoochun’s big laugh echoes off demolition equipment. he sidles behind jaejoong, chin to shoulder. ‘then you wouldn’t trust me.’
‘like flirting with the devil.’ jaejoong holds his hands out, spread-eagle, arches his back. ‘would you do it?’
‘that’s a little harsh.’ yoochun covers jaejoong’s eyes with one hand; he hopes he can see lights through his fingers. like miracles. (click.) jaejoong hums, starting low and escalating, heartthrob melody with his back vibrating against yoochun’s chest.
‘stay still, right, you know i’m bad at this.’ he doesn’t have a silencer. it’s okay. ‘and keep singing,’ whisper, ‘it’s how i’ll find you up there.’
jaejoong doesn’t stop, wordless beauty with a dash of daring, the sound all directed towards yoochun. clickcrash of a colorless firework. silence with no silencer. (it’s okay.) yoochun lets go, ‘i hope you fly forever.’
(falling doesn’t suit you.)
Author: miyamoto & skybacktoblue
Pairing: Jaejoong/Yoochun
Band: DBSK/THSK/TVXQ
Word Count: 533
Genre: angst/romance
Rating: pg-13
Warning: character death
Disclaimer: Don't own these guys, just my interpretations of them.
Synopsis: ‘heaven is down.’
Comments: this entire thing was co-written back and forth by text message on our phones and then copied to a word doc & formatted. orig posted here on hug
‘don’t look so concerned, baby,’ yoochun says, speeding past a dirty do not enter sign. one hand at 12 (midnight) on the wheel. they’re on the speedway to hell (or beyond) with jaejoong’s pinky finger stuck straight out the window as yoochun laughs at his own words. jaejoong cracks a smile--incline. the car’s frame whines; yoochun’s smooth mumble about 4-wheel drive. ‘i didn’t know hell went up.’
‘heaven is down,’ jaejoong replies. he isn’t really listening.
‘how do you figure,’ yoochun grins. there’s a cheap rosary on the rearview mirror, swaying.
‘every sin points up.’ and there’s a contented silence as yoochun interprets it as he pleases.
they summit and the car levels. yoochun hums, kills the engine, ‘i guess.’ city lights boom from below, full of skyscaper bones and highway veins. there’s a moth hitting against the window, pitpat pitpat, and jaejoong chuckles. ‘we could’ve gone on like this forever.’ pitpat.
‘okay. i think it likes you.’ yoochun leans over and traces moth patterns on the window tint (on jaejoong.) there’s no reply, just the soft rhythm of jaejoong’s breaths and the taps against the window. it’s almost a new moon.
‘hey, get out.’ yoochun pushes the passenger door open. orange lights, a crane, tomorrow’s date on caution tape. it won’t matter then. they sit on the hood and jaejoong bats half-heartedly at moths. appreciative silence, until he says ‘is this where you kill me?’
it’s yoochun’s turn at silence. he plays with his own wrist, smiles fondly. ‘i’m trying to quit smoking, you know.’ there’s half a pack left in his back pocket, the cheap kind, the ones he found when he forgot to bum a pack of jaejoong’s. ‘that’ll get you out of hell,’ jaejoong comments.
‘nah. we can only get higher from here.’ like laughter at 2am, purple highways on pale arms. they’d exist just to be in this moment.
‘was it always this good?’ the taste of air and ash--jaejoong’s smile is like that. yoochun digs his last pack out, ‘you were my favorite.’
‘mm.’ jaejoong takes a cigarette, and nearly trips sliding off the hood for the lighter. ‘these don’t taste like heaven.’ he says.
‘you could always jump and see if that gets you there faster.’ yoochun forgot a blindfold. he smiles, cheeky.
‘if you push me does that mean you’ll never meet me there?’ jaejoong offers him the lighter. he eyes the the city, black-starred gaze. yoochun’s big laugh echoes off demolition equipment. he sidles behind jaejoong, chin to shoulder. ‘then you wouldn’t trust me.’
‘like flirting with the devil.’ jaejoong holds his hands out, spread-eagle, arches his back. ‘would you do it?’
‘that’s a little harsh.’ yoochun covers jaejoong’s eyes with one hand; he hopes he can see lights through his fingers. like miracles. (click.) jaejoong hums, starting low and escalating, heartthrob melody with his back vibrating against yoochun’s chest.
‘stay still, right, you know i’m bad at this.’ he doesn’t have a silencer. it’s okay. ‘and keep singing,’ whisper, ‘it’s how i’ll find you up there.’
jaejoong doesn’t stop, wordless beauty with a dash of daring, the sound all directed towards yoochun. clickcrash of a colorless firework. silence with no silencer. (it’s okay.) yoochun lets go, ‘i hope you fly forever.’
(falling doesn’t suit you.)