(no subject)
these days are for chasing light
jonghyun/minho, pg, 1810ⓦ
Note: For Diane. Songs mentioned are by Standing Egg, Urban Zakapa, and Dear Cloud; the album mentioned is by Brown Eyed Soul. Soundtrack.
"We could be like Thelma and Louise," Jonghyun says, tilting his head back, his heels propped up on the dashboard so that his knees are crowding into his face, an indelicate, flexible curl that makes his shirt ride up when he shifts.
"This is not a suicide pact," Minho says, dryly. His gaze keeps snagging on the accidental slip of skin, and then the bright, sharp curve of Jonghyun's grin.
"No," Jonghyun starts to say, sounding earnest, "It's about experiencing a kind of liberation, a transcendence of self-" He interrupts himself, straightening up with a jolt and leaning forward with one hand outstretched to change the channel on the radio. Minho intercepts him.
Under his fingers, Jonghyun's shirt is soft with too many washings. He feels like every time he touches Jonghyun is new, different - once for the time they'd fought, twice when Jonghyun had slung an arm over his shoulders, smiling and companionable; all the times he'd just felt like it, wanted to feel Jonghyun's warmth seep into his.
Jonghyun pulls away, unperturbed; Minho, suddenly embarrassed, is grateful for the green light, inching off the brake. He steals a furtive glance at Jonghyun only to find him looking at his phone again, mouth habitually pursed and wholly unaware: it exasperates him even as he feels a small rush of fondness and relief.
"Hand me my guitar," Jonghyun says, leaning down and reaching for it before Minho's even reacted. He's propped himself between two boughs, shoes scratching roughly against the bark. Minho leans up on his toes, Jonghyun grabbing the neck just as Minho's stretched up to his fingertips.
He's strumming gently when Minho climbs up with a shaker in hand, fitting himself gingerly into the nook where Jonghyun's left his frame drum. Jonghyun's singing "I hope happiness will fill my heart from today," knuckles rapping against the body of his guitar, but he trails off when Minho appears, shifting his guitar in his lap and letting it settle in the same place.
"Let's sing that song you like," Jonghyun says, thumbing the E string so that it hums, deep and low.
"What?" Minho asks, distracted; he sets the shaker down on Jonghyun's leg as he arranges the drum, and Jonghyun's eyes curve into a smile as he looks at it.
"I just wanna stay in your love, I just wanna feel your heart," Jonghyun sings. "That one. I memorised the chords for you."
It's a song that Minho had heard one rainy morning while sharing earphones and browsing through Jonghyun's iPod. Jonghyun hadn't said anything when he'd replayed it, just nodded along, scribbling on his notepad. Minho can't help the smile that floods his face. "On three, then."
"I've been working on a song," Jonghyun says, later, snapping his pick between his fingers. "It's something like-" He plays the melody, and Minho leans back, letting it and Jonghyun's voice, singing and pausing to mumble, "You come in here," wash over him. He almost doesn't realise when it's over, and when he opens his eyes, Jonghyun's face is in his.
He starts, and Jonghyun laughs at his reaction, pulling away. "I like it," Minho says, after a moment, and Jonghyun looks up at him, a little surprised and pleased. "Maybe the bridge could go…" he hums it, finger flicking up and down an imaginary stave.
Jonghyun lights up, nodding seriously. He unearths a pen from his pocket, and Minho remembers just before Jonghyun does that he'd left his notebook in the car. Jonghyun pauses, and Minho is about to offer to get it for him when he turns his wrist up and draws five lines down the inside of his forearm, filling in the notes without bar lines.
Although he's too far away to see, Minho can imagine the shine of the ink as it settles into his skin, another melody sinking into him. Jonghyun's humming, etching out the remainder of the song now, and Minho closes his eyes again, remembering Jonghyun back in the city, entire pages of his notebook crossed out, looking hopeless.
"You're really hard to wake up," Jonghyun's voice floats in from above, when Minho is jolted awake again, his heart leaping to attention before the rest of his body does. The scrawled words on Jonghyun's arm read, two people singing in the clouds. "If you're sleepy, I'll drive," Jonghyun says, and Minho nods, letting Jonghyun gather his things out of his lap and climb down nimbly.
He falls asleep again in the car, and it's fully dark when Minho blinks half-awake again for a moment, bleary and disoriented, and sees Jonghyun's profile by the glow of the dashboard. It's quiet except for the smooth rumble of the engine and the road, and Minho realises the radio is off. Instead, Jonghyun has earphones in, his iPod propped up near the parking brake, cycling through an album Minho dimly recognises as The Wind, The Sea, The Rain before his eyes are sliding shut again.
It's dusty and flat in the town they stop in next, and when Minho steps away from the car, crumpling the petrol receipt in his hand, Jonghyun's in front of the convenience store, leaning with his shoulders braced against the wall, balanced precariously on his heels. He's grinning, hair wind-tousled, and the sunlight glints off his sunglasses and the buckle of his belt.
He smells like summer, back in the passenger seat, the scent of his cologne so faint that it takes Minho a deep breath to catch it, leaning over to adjust the rearview mirror. "I bought strawberries," Jonghyun says around the fruit in his mouth, reaching into the bag at his feet and pulling a tiny fruit basket out. "Do you want one?"
"Sure," Minho says, dragging his gaze away from the road, but Jonghyun's already holding up a strawberry, leaves carefully pulled back.
"Eyes on the road," Jonghyun says, at the same time Minho opens his mouth and says, "I can feed myself." Jonghyun fixes him with a stubborn look, so Minho turns his head back just enough to see the road, and Jonghyun puts the strawberry to his lips again, holding it gingerly so that Minho can take a bite.
The fruit is cold and surprisingly sweet, for an early harvest. When Minho looks back, Jonghyun's fingers are red and stained, picking through the basket for another strawberry.
They'd fallen together easily, in a way entirely characteristic of Jonghyun. They had been walking leisurely along a small road, leaving behind Dongdaemun and the glimmer of street lights. Jonghyun performed there at least once a week, standing on apple crates with his guitar and singing on a street corner, crowded with ddeokboki stands and clothing stalls.
Today, Jonghyun was buried up to his nose in a thick scarf, guitar case slung over one shoulder. Minho could hear him sniffling in between words, fingers curled in the gloves Minho had wordlessly handed to him. "It gets kind of lonely," Jonghyun was saying, voice a little muffled. "On my own-"
He crouched down, tugging a glove off his hand, fingers outstretched to a cat lurking on the side of the street. Minho watched, his own hands firmly entrenched in his pockets, as Jonghyun let the cat sniff his fingers. "I like dogs," Jonghyun said as he stroked the cat's head, in such a matter-of-fact way that Minho laughed, the sound full and round.
Jonghyun was silent, and then he turned to look up at Minho suddenly, the cat slinking away under his still fingers. "Sing with me," Jonghyun said, eyes bright.
They end up at a motel, Jonghyun washing and wringing out his shirt in the sink while Minho flips through the television channels. When he walks out of the shower, Jonghyun is sitting cross-legged on the bed, singing, "Don't forget how in your warmth I breathed for such a long time."
When Minho slides in under the covers, Jonghyun taps his pen restlessly against the bump of Minho's leg. It's after dark, but Minho feels wide awake, skin scrubbed fresh with soap and the air conditioning cool against his still-damp hair. Lying there, he feels hyperaware of Jonghyun next to him, warm and restive; he doesn't know where to look besides at Jonghyun, the spill of the lamp's warm glow on his exposed shoulders and arms, the small dip and rise of his spine where the shirt pulls whenever Jonghyun leans forward.
"You're going to catch a cold," Minho says, finally, pushing himself upright again, hand dipping into the mattress near Jonghyun's hip. Jonghyun turns, mouth half open to reply, and registers the proximity of their faces with a sharp inhale.
Minho is about to pull away when Jonghyun's gaze drops, and the long shadow of his eyelashes fan across his cheekbone. Minho barely registers that he's holding his breath, reaching up to frame Jonghyun's face with a hand and pressing his lips to Jonghyun's.
Jonghyun likes rooftops and empty places, where the open air is infinite. They're parked on the side of the road, and it's dark except for the occasional flash of headlights from passing cars. When Minho finds Jonghyun in the grassy field, wrapped up in a blanket, Jonghyun doesn't notice him at first, still looking unblinkingly at the stars.
When he sits down, Jonghyun seems to become suddenly aware of him, blinking the glassy reflection of the starlight out of his eyes. "Come here," Jonghyun says, voice sleepy, unraveling the blanket, and when Minho shifts closer, he tucks the far end over Minho's shoulder.
"I finished the song," Jonghyun says, after a moment, sounding contemplative. Minho turns to look at Jonghyun, surprised, but Jonghyun's still looking up at the stars.
Minho clears his throat. "When were you going to tell me?"
Jonghyun shrugs, and it makes the blanket start to slip off. Minho reaches up to fix it, tugging it back up so that Jonghyun can tuck his chin over it again. "Now felt like the right time. Since…." He trails off, turning to look at Minho, his hair falling in his eyes.
It wasn't as if he hadn't known they would go back to Seoul, sooner or later. But on the road, time passed without any thought, and Minho had gotten caught up in it, had gotten caught up in Jonghyun. When he speaks, his voice is carefully neutral. "Do you want to go back?"
Jonghyun’s silent for a moment, expression blank. "I thought, if it didn't take too long, I could write another song," Jonghyun says, finally, and the smile that steals over Minho’s face is instant, brighter than a flash of light.
jonghyun/minho, pg, 1810ⓦ
Note: For Diane. Songs mentioned are by Standing Egg, Urban Zakapa, and Dear Cloud; the album mentioned is by Brown Eyed Soul. Soundtrack.
"We could be like Thelma and Louise," Jonghyun says, tilting his head back, his heels propped up on the dashboard so that his knees are crowding into his face, an indelicate, flexible curl that makes his shirt ride up when he shifts.
"This is not a suicide pact," Minho says, dryly. His gaze keeps snagging on the accidental slip of skin, and then the bright, sharp curve of Jonghyun's grin.
"No," Jonghyun starts to say, sounding earnest, "It's about experiencing a kind of liberation, a transcendence of self-" He interrupts himself, straightening up with a jolt and leaning forward with one hand outstretched to change the channel on the radio. Minho intercepts him.
Under his fingers, Jonghyun's shirt is soft with too many washings. He feels like every time he touches Jonghyun is new, different - once for the time they'd fought, twice when Jonghyun had slung an arm over his shoulders, smiling and companionable; all the times he'd just felt like it, wanted to feel Jonghyun's warmth seep into his.
Jonghyun pulls away, unperturbed; Minho, suddenly embarrassed, is grateful for the green light, inching off the brake. He steals a furtive glance at Jonghyun only to find him looking at his phone again, mouth habitually pursed and wholly unaware: it exasperates him even as he feels a small rush of fondness and relief.
"Hand me my guitar," Jonghyun says, leaning down and reaching for it before Minho's even reacted. He's propped himself between two boughs, shoes scratching roughly against the bark. Minho leans up on his toes, Jonghyun grabbing the neck just as Minho's stretched up to his fingertips.
He's strumming gently when Minho climbs up with a shaker in hand, fitting himself gingerly into the nook where Jonghyun's left his frame drum. Jonghyun's singing "I hope happiness will fill my heart from today," knuckles rapping against the body of his guitar, but he trails off when Minho appears, shifting his guitar in his lap and letting it settle in the same place.
"Let's sing that song you like," Jonghyun says, thumbing the E string so that it hums, deep and low.
"What?" Minho asks, distracted; he sets the shaker down on Jonghyun's leg as he arranges the drum, and Jonghyun's eyes curve into a smile as he looks at it.
"I just wanna stay in your love, I just wanna feel your heart," Jonghyun sings. "That one. I memorised the chords for you."
It's a song that Minho had heard one rainy morning while sharing earphones and browsing through Jonghyun's iPod. Jonghyun hadn't said anything when he'd replayed it, just nodded along, scribbling on his notepad. Minho can't help the smile that floods his face. "On three, then."
"I've been working on a song," Jonghyun says, later, snapping his pick between his fingers. "It's something like-" He plays the melody, and Minho leans back, letting it and Jonghyun's voice, singing and pausing to mumble, "You come in here," wash over him. He almost doesn't realise when it's over, and when he opens his eyes, Jonghyun's face is in his.
He starts, and Jonghyun laughs at his reaction, pulling away. "I like it," Minho says, after a moment, and Jonghyun looks up at him, a little surprised and pleased. "Maybe the bridge could go…" he hums it, finger flicking up and down an imaginary stave.
Jonghyun lights up, nodding seriously. He unearths a pen from his pocket, and Minho remembers just before Jonghyun does that he'd left his notebook in the car. Jonghyun pauses, and Minho is about to offer to get it for him when he turns his wrist up and draws five lines down the inside of his forearm, filling in the notes without bar lines.
Although he's too far away to see, Minho can imagine the shine of the ink as it settles into his skin, another melody sinking into him. Jonghyun's humming, etching out the remainder of the song now, and Minho closes his eyes again, remembering Jonghyun back in the city, entire pages of his notebook crossed out, looking hopeless.
"You're really hard to wake up," Jonghyun's voice floats in from above, when Minho is jolted awake again, his heart leaping to attention before the rest of his body does. The scrawled words on Jonghyun's arm read, two people singing in the clouds. "If you're sleepy, I'll drive," Jonghyun says, and Minho nods, letting Jonghyun gather his things out of his lap and climb down nimbly.
He falls asleep again in the car, and it's fully dark when Minho blinks half-awake again for a moment, bleary and disoriented, and sees Jonghyun's profile by the glow of the dashboard. It's quiet except for the smooth rumble of the engine and the road, and Minho realises the radio is off. Instead, Jonghyun has earphones in, his iPod propped up near the parking brake, cycling through an album Minho dimly recognises as The Wind, The Sea, The Rain before his eyes are sliding shut again.
It's dusty and flat in the town they stop in next, and when Minho steps away from the car, crumpling the petrol receipt in his hand, Jonghyun's in front of the convenience store, leaning with his shoulders braced against the wall, balanced precariously on his heels. He's grinning, hair wind-tousled, and the sunlight glints off his sunglasses and the buckle of his belt.
He smells like summer, back in the passenger seat, the scent of his cologne so faint that it takes Minho a deep breath to catch it, leaning over to adjust the rearview mirror. "I bought strawberries," Jonghyun says around the fruit in his mouth, reaching into the bag at his feet and pulling a tiny fruit basket out. "Do you want one?"
"Sure," Minho says, dragging his gaze away from the road, but Jonghyun's already holding up a strawberry, leaves carefully pulled back.
"Eyes on the road," Jonghyun says, at the same time Minho opens his mouth and says, "I can feed myself." Jonghyun fixes him with a stubborn look, so Minho turns his head back just enough to see the road, and Jonghyun puts the strawberry to his lips again, holding it gingerly so that Minho can take a bite.
The fruit is cold and surprisingly sweet, for an early harvest. When Minho looks back, Jonghyun's fingers are red and stained, picking through the basket for another strawberry.
They'd fallen together easily, in a way entirely characteristic of Jonghyun. They had been walking leisurely along a small road, leaving behind Dongdaemun and the glimmer of street lights. Jonghyun performed there at least once a week, standing on apple crates with his guitar and singing on a street corner, crowded with ddeokboki stands and clothing stalls.
Today, Jonghyun was buried up to his nose in a thick scarf, guitar case slung over one shoulder. Minho could hear him sniffling in between words, fingers curled in the gloves Minho had wordlessly handed to him. "It gets kind of lonely," Jonghyun was saying, voice a little muffled. "On my own-"
He crouched down, tugging a glove off his hand, fingers outstretched to a cat lurking on the side of the street. Minho watched, his own hands firmly entrenched in his pockets, as Jonghyun let the cat sniff his fingers. "I like dogs," Jonghyun said as he stroked the cat's head, in such a matter-of-fact way that Minho laughed, the sound full and round.
Jonghyun was silent, and then he turned to look up at Minho suddenly, the cat slinking away under his still fingers. "Sing with me," Jonghyun said, eyes bright.
They end up at a motel, Jonghyun washing and wringing out his shirt in the sink while Minho flips through the television channels. When he walks out of the shower, Jonghyun is sitting cross-legged on the bed, singing, "Don't forget how in your warmth I breathed for such a long time."
When Minho slides in under the covers, Jonghyun taps his pen restlessly against the bump of Minho's leg. It's after dark, but Minho feels wide awake, skin scrubbed fresh with soap and the air conditioning cool against his still-damp hair. Lying there, he feels hyperaware of Jonghyun next to him, warm and restive; he doesn't know where to look besides at Jonghyun, the spill of the lamp's warm glow on his exposed shoulders and arms, the small dip and rise of his spine where the shirt pulls whenever Jonghyun leans forward.
"You're going to catch a cold," Minho says, finally, pushing himself upright again, hand dipping into the mattress near Jonghyun's hip. Jonghyun turns, mouth half open to reply, and registers the proximity of their faces with a sharp inhale.
Minho is about to pull away when Jonghyun's gaze drops, and the long shadow of his eyelashes fan across his cheekbone. Minho barely registers that he's holding his breath, reaching up to frame Jonghyun's face with a hand and pressing his lips to Jonghyun's.
Jonghyun likes rooftops and empty places, where the open air is infinite. They're parked on the side of the road, and it's dark except for the occasional flash of headlights from passing cars. When Minho finds Jonghyun in the grassy field, wrapped up in a blanket, Jonghyun doesn't notice him at first, still looking unblinkingly at the stars.
When he sits down, Jonghyun seems to become suddenly aware of him, blinking the glassy reflection of the starlight out of his eyes. "Come here," Jonghyun says, voice sleepy, unraveling the blanket, and when Minho shifts closer, he tucks the far end over Minho's shoulder.
"I finished the song," Jonghyun says, after a moment, sounding contemplative. Minho turns to look at Jonghyun, surprised, but Jonghyun's still looking up at the stars.
Minho clears his throat. "When were you going to tell me?"
Jonghyun shrugs, and it makes the blanket start to slip off. Minho reaches up to fix it, tugging it back up so that Jonghyun can tuck his chin over it again. "Now felt like the right time. Since…." He trails off, turning to look at Minho, his hair falling in his eyes.
It wasn't as if he hadn't known they would go back to Seoul, sooner or later. But on the road, time passed without any thought, and Minho had gotten caught up in it, had gotten caught up in Jonghyun. When he speaks, his voice is carefully neutral. "Do you want to go back?"
Jonghyun’s silent for a moment, expression blank. "I thought, if it didn't take too long, I could write another song," Jonghyun says, finally, and the smile that steals over Minho’s face is instant, brighter than a flash of light.