touch - oneshot (su!centric)
Title: touch
Author: skybacktoblue
Pairing: junsu!centric, yoosu
Band: DBSK/THSK/TVXQ
Word Count: 568
Genre: general
Rating: pg
Warning: none
Disclaimer: Don't own these guys, just my interpretations of them.
Summary: junsu doesn't let just anyone into his personal space.
Notes: for the wonderful itsplashes as a birthday present. love you, baby ♥
one.
when junsu calls changmin ‘hyung’ it’s an honest accident.
he tries to cover it up with a hurried oyaji gag, but changmin laughs all the way through his jokes and into his protests. ‘it’s not funny,’ junsu mutters, his brow creased in frustration, and changmin just replies ‘of course, of course not - dongsaeng.’
‘changminnie.’ junsu whines, swinging a fist at him.
and changmin grabs junsu’s hand with his firm, large one easily - and holds on like there’s nothing strange about it at all. ‘quiet, dongsaeng’ he laughs.
junsu is quiet.
two.
jaejoong is a whirlwind, and when he finally calms down, junsu isn’t sure what to do. jaejoong had been nervous energy the entire practice, full of half-hearted chatter at break and near silent on the radio show.
it isn’t until they have a quick moment to breathe that he pauses; it’s just junsu in the room and when he looks, jaejoong is shaking. ‘hyung?’
jaejoong leans against the wall. junsu runs hesitant, careful fingers through his hair. he’s only done this a few times before; each time he’s taken aback by the softness of jaejoong’s hair, how different it is from his own or from junho’s short, coarse strands.
jaejoong doesn’t reach out. he stays in his own cube of space with his hand pressed tightly against the wall, and junsu pets his hair in time to the in-out breaths he takes, and marvels in the effect of the touch.
three.
yunho hears the shower curtain rustle before junsu steps in; it’s late and there’s shadows under his eyes.
‘the other one is full,’ he mumbles quietly, ducking his head under the faucet.
yunho smiles; the warm water makes him relax, each rivulet down his back untangling muscles and refreshing tendons. he maneuvers a limp dance move that draws junsu’s eyes and scatters water droplets.
junsu is quiet under the spray. he isn’t washing - he’s just letting the water run down his hair, turning the red a darker, unnatural hue. when he hums a line of shelter yunho barely recognizes it. he stands still when he does.
‘hurry up,’ changmin yells through the door. ‘i need to take a shit.’
‘who’s in the other bathroom?’ yunho asks.
junsu closes his eyes. ‘yoochun.’
‘oh.’ yunho offers to scrub his back.
four.
junsu shuts the front door with a click, careful to turn the lock slowly.
‘were you avoiding me?’ he whips around; there’s yoochun standing in the room, the half-smile on his face almost self deprecating. the shine of his eyes is muted by the shadows around them.
junsu pushes his cell phone back into his hoodie pocket. he’s silent.
‘c’mere baby,’ yoochun says, a perfect replica of their stage gig - his ploy to make junsu smile. junsu obliges, grudgingly. he steps across the foyer and yoochun grabs him and pulls him into a hug.
junsu stiffens; yoochun tugs the cap from his hair and clutches gently at the back of his neck. 'see,' he mumbles, 'i don't smell that bad.'
junsu laughs.
five.
when junsu comes home for a visit, he leans into each touch and smiles, lets their mother smooth his hair and beams when the neighbor’s daughter throws sticky fingers around his middle.
junho watches him. later, when they’re lying side by side on the floor of their childhood room, he says, ‘you seem comfortable.’
and junsu smiles like he’s figured out the world.
Author: skybacktoblue
Pairing: junsu!centric, yoosu
Band: DBSK/THSK/TVXQ
Word Count: 568
Genre: general
Rating: pg
Warning: none
Disclaimer: Don't own these guys, just my interpretations of them.
Summary: junsu doesn't let just anyone into his personal space.
Notes: for the wonderful itsplashes as a birthday present. love you, baby ♥
one.
when junsu calls changmin ‘hyung’ it’s an honest accident.
he tries to cover it up with a hurried oyaji gag, but changmin laughs all the way through his jokes and into his protests. ‘it’s not funny,’ junsu mutters, his brow creased in frustration, and changmin just replies ‘of course, of course not - dongsaeng.’
‘changminnie.’ junsu whines, swinging a fist at him.
and changmin grabs junsu’s hand with his firm, large one easily - and holds on like there’s nothing strange about it at all. ‘quiet, dongsaeng’ he laughs.
junsu is quiet.
two.
jaejoong is a whirlwind, and when he finally calms down, junsu isn’t sure what to do. jaejoong had been nervous energy the entire practice, full of half-hearted chatter at break and near silent on the radio show.
it isn’t until they have a quick moment to breathe that he pauses; it’s just junsu in the room and when he looks, jaejoong is shaking. ‘hyung?’
jaejoong leans against the wall. junsu runs hesitant, careful fingers through his hair. he’s only done this a few times before; each time he’s taken aback by the softness of jaejoong’s hair, how different it is from his own or from junho’s short, coarse strands.
jaejoong doesn’t reach out. he stays in his own cube of space with his hand pressed tightly against the wall, and junsu pets his hair in time to the in-out breaths he takes, and marvels in the effect of the touch.
three.
yunho hears the shower curtain rustle before junsu steps in; it’s late and there’s shadows under his eyes.
‘the other one is full,’ he mumbles quietly, ducking his head under the faucet.
yunho smiles; the warm water makes him relax, each rivulet down his back untangling muscles and refreshing tendons. he maneuvers a limp dance move that draws junsu’s eyes and scatters water droplets.
junsu is quiet under the spray. he isn’t washing - he’s just letting the water run down his hair, turning the red a darker, unnatural hue. when he hums a line of shelter yunho barely recognizes it. he stands still when he does.
‘hurry up,’ changmin yells through the door. ‘i need to take a shit.’
‘who’s in the other bathroom?’ yunho asks.
junsu closes his eyes. ‘yoochun.’
‘oh.’ yunho offers to scrub his back.
four.
junsu shuts the front door with a click, careful to turn the lock slowly.
‘were you avoiding me?’ he whips around; there’s yoochun standing in the room, the half-smile on his face almost self deprecating. the shine of his eyes is muted by the shadows around them.
junsu pushes his cell phone back into his hoodie pocket. he’s silent.
‘c’mere baby,’ yoochun says, a perfect replica of their stage gig - his ploy to make junsu smile. junsu obliges, grudgingly. he steps across the foyer and yoochun grabs him and pulls him into a hug.
junsu stiffens; yoochun tugs the cap from his hair and clutches gently at the back of his neck. 'see,' he mumbles, 'i don't smell that bad.'
junsu laughs.
five.
when junsu comes home for a visit, he leans into each touch and smiles, lets their mother smooth his hair and beams when the neighbor’s daughter throws sticky fingers around his middle.
junho watches him. later, when they’re lying side by side on the floor of their childhood room, he says, ‘you seem comfortable.’
and junsu smiles like he’s figured out the world.