(no subject)
the unmagnificent lives of adults (countdown)
one-shot | bandfic, jaechun, unrequitted jaesuchun, pov jumpage, airplanes, implied drug use and su-angst; PG-13. (2142 Words.)
mild inspiration from the song mistaken for strangers by the national.
this is a hot mess and an attempt to force myself out of my writing-funk and i'd be surprised to see anyone make anysense out of it. this isn't what i had intended to write. like. at all. so there's my excuse :|
Countdown to take off is a slow seventy-eight, seventy-seven, seventy-six...
He sets into place in front of his band mates and debates how this forty-minute trip will affect their working relationship. Always separated, always segregated. I am the untouchable of JYJ. He's either going to game his flight away or dwell on the growing distance.
Jaejoong pats his head as he passes and makes a strangely high noise in his throat. Junsu half smiles and adjusts the back of his seat until he's content. He stuffs his bag under the seat and waits.
static; yoochun-ah, move over for your hyung. i want the window seat. what if i want the window seat? well that's too bad because you ate all those sour candy things the staffu gave us. oh come on, they were for all of us. oh? were they? i wouldn't know because you stuffed your fat face with them before i could have any. you ate like half. i did not. you did too. did not. did too. did not. did too. did not-
(Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome aboard Korean Air Narita, Tokyo with service to Gimpo, Japan. In just a moment, we will be presenting to you a very short safety demonstration highlighting the safety information on this 757. We realize that many of you fly frequently, so to reinforce what you already know, and to enable those around you to hear out procedures, we ask for your full attention.)
The left falls out again. There's a tiny L printed on the back, and it is his left ear, but the thing won't stay put. He pushes and twists it back into his canal; the stream of music is constant. The right falls out. He grunts and switches them, pulls his beanie on to cover them. They stay.
The pressure is something terrible. Take off feels like a hundred million stereo systems pressed under your skin, thumping sound out your pores. Too much output, too tiny of holes - thumping thumping bass bumping. Jaejoong shifts beside him, digging into his sequined bag, looking for an mp3 player with a charge. There's a desperate sweep in his eyes that suggests he should have bought another one. Jaejoong doesn't charge things - when technology is dead it's dead and he isn't about to disturb it's eternal slumber.
Jaejoong says something to Junsu - Junsu sitting in front of them, fiddling with his portable PlayStation. Jaejoong asks something and Junsu brushes him off, bitter and unaccommodating for being shifted off to sit in another row. Defeated, Jaejoong looks to him, but Yoochun closes his eyes and turns his head away.
He digs through his bag, finds nothing of consolation; huffs and gets up to the bathroom, though the attendants recommend he stay seated. Yoochun watches his profile disappear into a hole in the wall. He adjusts his headphones, he doesn't share.
(Please direct your attention to one of the flight attendants in the cabin holding a safety information card. You will find this card in the seat pocket in front of you. Please take it out, and follow along as we cover the important information. For our passengers that are seated in an exit row, you may be required to assist the crew in the event of an emergency evacuation. If you unable or unwilling to assist the crew, please let us know so we can re-seat you.)
Jaejoong runs his teeth over his lips, pulling off dead skin, knuckles pushing through the crap in the bottom of his purse. Nothing he wants and everything he doesn't. An attendant taps the door and he turns the tap on, "One minute," he mutters. "One minute."
His neck rolls, tendons stretch; he can hear Junsu laughing in the cabin, no doubt inadvertently flirting while simultaneously breaking the heart of a pretty flight attendant.
Countdown to take off. The attendant knocks again.
He ignores her and digs some more. His mind spins. There's a bottle in a worn leather compartment with three beautiful, perfectly circular pills in it. He shakes the bottle. The attendant knocks again. He takes the pills. (Chalky against his throat, leave a strange residue in his mouth that tastes like moth balls.) He swallows them and when the attendant knocks again, the noise is a deep thumping that resonates with his soul.
He flicks the tap off and opens the door, toothy smile and gracious bow to the blue-blazered woman for putting up with him. He stumbles back to his seat and flops down next to his band mate. Energy bubbles under his skin but he bites his lip and keeps it secret. He shouldn't have done that. He really shouldn't have done that.
(For take off, your seat belt must be fastened low and tight across your lap. Insert the metal fitting into the buckle and pull tight by pulling on the loose strap. To release, lift up on the faceplate of the buckle. It is important that you keep your seat belt fastened at all times when seated to protect yourself from any unexpected turbulence.)
Junsu doesn't like the person sitting next to him - she's stiff and abrasive at the edges and she smells musky. Junsu prays for the integrity of her shower. She's a trimmed Japanese woman with sharp eyes; she jerks when Junsu leans too far over and brushes against her, and scoffs at him when he takes out his PSP. It's all the insentive he needs to put in a bloody video game and do something violent.
He can see Jaejoong and Yoochun cuddling in the reflection of his screen - the sight makes and breaks his trip, because it's always him on the outside, smiling awkwardly and making light of heavy things. It fuels his rage and presses his chest. He wouldn't mind seeing himself between them sometimes; in one of their places, burrowing his face in the softness of Jaejoongs neck, arms around Yoochun's jutting ribcage. He wouldn't mind seeing himself there, even if his heart wasn't really in it, and he had that far off glaze in his eyes. He'd feel like a trainee again, and it'd give him good-chills.
Yoochun looks like he might be sleeping - or trying to. Jaejoong looks like a stranger in familiar clothing. His eyes flutter and his lips move, fingers twitching. He isn't asleep. He's never asleep.
Junsu turns to his game; shoots at something and anything, alternates between his thumbs and presses harder than he should.
(On our 757, there are six exit doors. Three on each side of the plane, each equipped with a slide that inflates automatically. In addiction to these exits, there are four over-wing exits, two on each side of the plane. Each exit is clearly marked with a sign overhead. Take a moment to locate the exit nearest you. If an evacuation occurs, exit path lighting will illuminate to guide you to an exit.)
The silence is driving him insane - a remaining thirty minutes feel like eight hundred eternal years on repeat, with delays and coasting and laybacks and extended time. There's no music, no games, nothing to occupy his mind.
His cheek meets Yoochun's shoulder and he presses close. He can hear a beat, a tum-tum-tum-tumtum-tumtum-tum. He doesn't know if it's Yoochun's heart, or his music. He thinks they're the same thing.
He opens his eyes and watches the cabin lights swirl for a while; fluctuating with the hum of overworking turbines and engines. I am a turbine, he decides, but the thought is gone as soon as he looks out the window and sees the sun rising.
He clicks a picture with his phone - it's blurry and he hates it but he saves it because he can just barely make out Yoochun's reflection in the window plane. He might not get that again.
Junsu looks back at him (his hair is mussed up from rubbing it in game-instigated-frustration and his eyes are glassy) and makes a face. "Restless?" he asks.
Jaejoong smiles and squishes his lips and nose together. "So cute," he says. Jaejoong's eyes are like quarters - wide and shiny and silver. Junsu rolls his eyes and turns away. Jaejoong lifts his hands up to the round light above him and wiggles his fingers, lets the shadows move over the bulb like an eclipse.
He uploads the picture on twitter. He captions it "beautiful~!"
(In the event of a water landing, your seat cushion may be used as a flotation device. To use it, pull it up, and slip your arms through the straps, hugging the cushion to your chest, as shown on the safety information card.)
Sleeping on a short flight is stupid and Junsu feels a little victorious when he realizes how good he'll look in the airport fan cams when pressed up against Yoochun's half awake head. Then he remembers Yoochun will probably wear sun glasses to cover the grogginess and huffs and shuts off his game. He stretches out (the lady next to him makes a disdainful noise in her throat) and closes his eyes against his better judgement.
He turns his head just enough that he can see Yoochun sleeping in his peripheral. He can't see Jaejoong, but he can hear him shifting around, sighing and giggling to himself. His elbow comes into sight once or twice. There's something wrong with him - he's happy and buoyant but never like this. He makes something up and sets it in his heart, makes himself believe, because the alternative is terrific.
Yoochun shifts and he almost jumps out of his skin - who is he now? Mother-Su, fluffy, fat, and hen-like. Feathery. His shoulder blades dig into the upholstery and he looks forward, away from his hyung, away from the giggling and the wooing.
His phone buzzes. Update from twitter. Jaejoong posted a photo of the sunrise and clouds, Yoochun's outline on the window blurry but obvious. Junsu doesn't miss it, and doubts Jaejoong would have. His phone is pocketed with a sigh.
(In the even of a loss in cabin pressure, an oxygen mask will drop from overhead. To start the flow of oxygen, reach up and pull the mask towards you. Place the cup of the mask over your nose and mouth, slipping the elastic band over your head. Tightening the straps if necessary. The bag does not need to inflate; the oxygen is still flowing to the mask. A uniformed crew member will tell you when the masks are no longer needed. It is important that you secure your mask before assisting others.)
Mother-Su. He'll do everything they asked of him and he'll do it running like a headless chicken. Headless Hen. He allows himself a dwindling smile.
Jaejoong curls up against Yoochun again, humming, eyes closed, mouth opened. Junsu promises himself he won't look back at them, but after a while, he can hear them whispering. Hushed sounds and giggles, arm in arm. The intercom beeps and Junsu counts down to landing.
yoochun, i can see the planets and i can see the stars. hahaha, yoochun. this song is silly. jaejoong, are you high. shhh no! ...but maybe. will you dance with me? will you be quiet for a few minutes? silence is for the dead! and the uncharged apparently. if you don't like the way i handle my electronics you can take it up with me. i am taking it up with you. hee hee chunnie-bum, you're taking it up with me. jaejoong, shut up. hee hee.
(At this time flight attendants will be coming through the cabin, making their final safety checks before take off. At this time, please be sure that your seat is returned to its upright position, and that your tray is stowed. Please check to see if your seat belt is securely fastened. As a reminder, all carry on items must now be under the seat in front of you, or in an overhead compartment. Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for listening.)
They're the last off the plane - very important person treatment with assistance in gathering their things and escorted to the airports back doors. Junsu can already taste the routine. They'll go through check out and keep to themselves in the public eye. They'll bow to attendants and walk straight passed shrieking fans. As soon as they're out of the openings, the camera range, the eyes of the media, Yoochun and Jaejoong will meld together like magnets.
Junsu hates magnets and wants to think of them as two cataclysmic objects rushing at each other at hundreds of thousands of miles per hour; that they'll hit each other so hard and fast that they'll break apart to tiny bits. Then he could have some of them, little smashed pieces of them, to have and to hold and to call his own.
But they aren't asteroids and speed and fire; they're energy and magnetism. Junsu will follow after them and sit in the back of the car as they lump together in the middle.
When they're finally out of the plane and in the terminal, Junsu can smell the Korean air. He counts his steps in his home country. He revels in the sound of his native language against his ears.
His feet meet the rubber mats managements SUV and he waits for take off.
(seventy-five, seventy-four, seventy-three.)
x
thank you jaeluvsme for giving me a motivational pull. i don't know if this is at all going to prompt me actually writing something decent, but i hope it does /panicked smile.
<3
one-shot | bandfic, jaechun, unrequitted jaesuchun, pov jumpage, airplanes, implied drug use and su-angst; PG-13. (2142 Words.)
mild inspiration from the song mistaken for strangers by the national.
this is a hot mess and an attempt to force myself out of my writing-funk and i'd be surprised to see anyone make anysense out of it. this isn't what i had intended to write. like. at all. so there's my excuse :|
Countdown to take off is a slow seventy-eight, seventy-seven, seventy-six...
He sets into place in front of his band mates and debates how this forty-minute trip will affect their working relationship. Always separated, always segregated. I am the untouchable of JYJ. He's either going to game his flight away or dwell on the growing distance.
Jaejoong pats his head as he passes and makes a strangely high noise in his throat. Junsu half smiles and adjusts the back of his seat until he's content. He stuffs his bag under the seat and waits.
static; yoochun-ah, move over for your hyung. i want the window seat. what if i want the window seat? well that's too bad because you ate all those sour candy things the staffu gave us. oh come on, they were for all of us. oh? were they? i wouldn't know because you stuffed your fat face with them before i could have any. you ate like half. i did not. you did too. did not. did too. did not. did too. did not-
(Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome aboard Korean Air Narita, Tokyo with service to Gimpo, Japan. In just a moment, we will be presenting to you a very short safety demonstration highlighting the safety information on this 757. We realize that many of you fly frequently, so to reinforce what you already know, and to enable those around you to hear out procedures, we ask for your full attention.)
The left falls out again. There's a tiny L printed on the back, and it is his left ear, but the thing won't stay put. He pushes and twists it back into his canal; the stream of music is constant. The right falls out. He grunts and switches them, pulls his beanie on to cover them. They stay.
The pressure is something terrible. Take off feels like a hundred million stereo systems pressed under your skin, thumping sound out your pores. Too much output, too tiny of holes - thumping thumping bass bumping. Jaejoong shifts beside him, digging into his sequined bag, looking for an mp3 player with a charge. There's a desperate sweep in his eyes that suggests he should have bought another one. Jaejoong doesn't charge things - when technology is dead it's dead and he isn't about to disturb it's eternal slumber.
Jaejoong says something to Junsu - Junsu sitting in front of them, fiddling with his portable PlayStation. Jaejoong asks something and Junsu brushes him off, bitter and unaccommodating for being shifted off to sit in another row. Defeated, Jaejoong looks to him, but Yoochun closes his eyes and turns his head away.
He digs through his bag, finds nothing of consolation; huffs and gets up to the bathroom, though the attendants recommend he stay seated. Yoochun watches his profile disappear into a hole in the wall. He adjusts his headphones, he doesn't share.
(Please direct your attention to one of the flight attendants in the cabin holding a safety information card. You will find this card in the seat pocket in front of you. Please take it out, and follow along as we cover the important information. For our passengers that are seated in an exit row, you may be required to assist the crew in the event of an emergency evacuation. If you unable or unwilling to assist the crew, please let us know so we can re-seat you.)
Jaejoong runs his teeth over his lips, pulling off dead skin, knuckles pushing through the crap in the bottom of his purse. Nothing he wants and everything he doesn't. An attendant taps the door and he turns the tap on, "One minute," he mutters. "One minute."
His neck rolls, tendons stretch; he can hear Junsu laughing in the cabin, no doubt inadvertently flirting while simultaneously breaking the heart of a pretty flight attendant.
Countdown to take off. The attendant knocks again.
He ignores her and digs some more. His mind spins. There's a bottle in a worn leather compartment with three beautiful, perfectly circular pills in it. He shakes the bottle. The attendant knocks again. He takes the pills. (Chalky against his throat, leave a strange residue in his mouth that tastes like moth balls.) He swallows them and when the attendant knocks again, the noise is a deep thumping that resonates with his soul.
He flicks the tap off and opens the door, toothy smile and gracious bow to the blue-blazered woman for putting up with him. He stumbles back to his seat and flops down next to his band mate. Energy bubbles under his skin but he bites his lip and keeps it secret. He shouldn't have done that. He really shouldn't have done that.
(For take off, your seat belt must be fastened low and tight across your lap. Insert the metal fitting into the buckle and pull tight by pulling on the loose strap. To release, lift up on the faceplate of the buckle. It is important that you keep your seat belt fastened at all times when seated to protect yourself from any unexpected turbulence.)
Junsu doesn't like the person sitting next to him - she's stiff and abrasive at the edges and she smells musky. Junsu prays for the integrity of her shower. She's a trimmed Japanese woman with sharp eyes; she jerks when Junsu leans too far over and brushes against her, and scoffs at him when he takes out his PSP. It's all the insentive he needs to put in a bloody video game and do something violent.
He can see Jaejoong and Yoochun cuddling in the reflection of his screen - the sight makes and breaks his trip, because it's always him on the outside, smiling awkwardly and making light of heavy things. It fuels his rage and presses his chest. He wouldn't mind seeing himself between them sometimes; in one of their places, burrowing his face in the softness of Jaejoongs neck, arms around Yoochun's jutting ribcage. He wouldn't mind seeing himself there, even if his heart wasn't really in it, and he had that far off glaze in his eyes. He'd feel like a trainee again, and it'd give him good-chills.
Yoochun looks like he might be sleeping - or trying to. Jaejoong looks like a stranger in familiar clothing. His eyes flutter and his lips move, fingers twitching. He isn't asleep. He's never asleep.
Junsu turns to his game; shoots at something and anything, alternates between his thumbs and presses harder than he should.
(On our 757, there are six exit doors. Three on each side of the plane, each equipped with a slide that inflates automatically. In addiction to these exits, there are four over-wing exits, two on each side of the plane. Each exit is clearly marked with a sign overhead. Take a moment to locate the exit nearest you. If an evacuation occurs, exit path lighting will illuminate to guide you to an exit.)
The silence is driving him insane - a remaining thirty minutes feel like eight hundred eternal years on repeat, with delays and coasting and laybacks and extended time. There's no music, no games, nothing to occupy his mind.
His cheek meets Yoochun's shoulder and he presses close. He can hear a beat, a tum-tum-tum-tumtum-tumtum-tum. He doesn't know if it's Yoochun's heart, or his music. He thinks they're the same thing.
He opens his eyes and watches the cabin lights swirl for a while; fluctuating with the hum of overworking turbines and engines. I am a turbine, he decides, but the thought is gone as soon as he looks out the window and sees the sun rising.
He clicks a picture with his phone - it's blurry and he hates it but he saves it because he can just barely make out Yoochun's reflection in the window plane. He might not get that again.
Junsu looks back at him (his hair is mussed up from rubbing it in game-instigated-frustration and his eyes are glassy) and makes a face. "Restless?" he asks.
Jaejoong smiles and squishes his lips and nose together. "So cute," he says. Jaejoong's eyes are like quarters - wide and shiny and silver. Junsu rolls his eyes and turns away. Jaejoong lifts his hands up to the round light above him and wiggles his fingers, lets the shadows move over the bulb like an eclipse.
He uploads the picture on twitter. He captions it "beautiful~!"
(In the event of a water landing, your seat cushion may be used as a flotation device. To use it, pull it up, and slip your arms through the straps, hugging the cushion to your chest, as shown on the safety information card.)
Sleeping on a short flight is stupid and Junsu feels a little victorious when he realizes how good he'll look in the airport fan cams when pressed up against Yoochun's half awake head. Then he remembers Yoochun will probably wear sun glasses to cover the grogginess and huffs and shuts off his game. He stretches out (the lady next to him makes a disdainful noise in her throat) and closes his eyes against his better judgement.
He turns his head just enough that he can see Yoochun sleeping in his peripheral. He can't see Jaejoong, but he can hear him shifting around, sighing and giggling to himself. His elbow comes into sight once or twice. There's something wrong with him - he's happy and buoyant but never like this. He makes something up and sets it in his heart, makes himself believe, because the alternative is terrific.
Yoochun shifts and he almost jumps out of his skin - who is he now? Mother-Su, fluffy, fat, and hen-like. Feathery. His shoulder blades dig into the upholstery and he looks forward, away from his hyung, away from the giggling and the wooing.
His phone buzzes. Update from twitter. Jaejoong posted a photo of the sunrise and clouds, Yoochun's outline on the window blurry but obvious. Junsu doesn't miss it, and doubts Jaejoong would have. His phone is pocketed with a sigh.
(In the even of a loss in cabin pressure, an oxygen mask will drop from overhead. To start the flow of oxygen, reach up and pull the mask towards you. Place the cup of the mask over your nose and mouth, slipping the elastic band over your head. Tightening the straps if necessary. The bag does not need to inflate; the oxygen is still flowing to the mask. A uniformed crew member will tell you when the masks are no longer needed. It is important that you secure your mask before assisting others.)
Mother-Su. He'll do everything they asked of him and he'll do it running like a headless chicken. Headless Hen. He allows himself a dwindling smile.
Jaejoong curls up against Yoochun again, humming, eyes closed, mouth opened. Junsu promises himself he won't look back at them, but after a while, he can hear them whispering. Hushed sounds and giggles, arm in arm. The intercom beeps and Junsu counts down to landing.
yoochun, i can see the planets and i can see the stars. hahaha, yoochun. this song is silly. jaejoong, are you high. shhh no! ...but maybe. will you dance with me? will you be quiet for a few minutes? silence is for the dead! and the uncharged apparently. if you don't like the way i handle my electronics you can take it up with me. i am taking it up with you. hee hee chunnie-bum, you're taking it up with me. jaejoong, shut up. hee hee.
(At this time flight attendants will be coming through the cabin, making their final safety checks before take off. At this time, please be sure that your seat is returned to its upright position, and that your tray is stowed. Please check to see if your seat belt is securely fastened. As a reminder, all carry on items must now be under the seat in front of you, or in an overhead compartment. Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for listening.)
They're the last off the plane - very important person treatment with assistance in gathering their things and escorted to the airports back doors. Junsu can already taste the routine. They'll go through check out and keep to themselves in the public eye. They'll bow to attendants and walk straight passed shrieking fans. As soon as they're out of the openings, the camera range, the eyes of the media, Yoochun and Jaejoong will meld together like magnets.
Junsu hates magnets and wants to think of them as two cataclysmic objects rushing at each other at hundreds of thousands of miles per hour; that they'll hit each other so hard and fast that they'll break apart to tiny bits. Then he could have some of them, little smashed pieces of them, to have and to hold and to call his own.
But they aren't asteroids and speed and fire; they're energy and magnetism. Junsu will follow after them and sit in the back of the car as they lump together in the middle.
When they're finally out of the plane and in the terminal, Junsu can smell the Korean air. He counts his steps in his home country. He revels in the sound of his native language against his ears.
His feet meet the rubber mats managements SUV and he waits for take off.
(seventy-five, seventy-four, seventy-three.)
x
thank you jaeluvsme for giving me a motivational pull. i don't know if this is at all going to prompt me actually writing something decent, but i hope it does /panicked smile.
<3
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