round 01, challenge three: entry #3
Title: In the Click of a Shutter
Fandom and Pairing: Shinee; Onew/Taemin
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,500
Summary: Taemin gets a one-way ticket to something that he's not sure he ever wanted.
Warnings: N/A
Prompt #: 2
They meet like a page torn straight from a young adult romance novel. It’s a breezy afternoon with perfect sunshine and billowing clouds, the kind that happen so infrequently as to be thought impossible. The setting is a park, surrounded by laughing children and picnics with thin sundresses and small talk. It might’ve even been something almost magical if it weren’t for the blood and grass stains.
Taemin lines himself up for the winning shot in a match that only he can see and kicks. It’s definitely one of his better shots, he thinks. Except for the part where the ball rams into an innocent bystander’s face, at least. He’s struck hard and heavy with horror as the ball bounces away unscathed and his latest victim topples over. Before he knows it, he’s rushing forward, skidding to a stop on his knees, and, “Oh shit, are you okay?”
He realizes how stupid it is to ask that as his hands flutter about like birds in an attempt to settle somewhere that won’t cause any more damage. Instead of a scathing retort or a threat to sue, however, he gets a watery-and somewhat bloody-smile that makes his mind reel like maybe he was the one that got nailed with a soccer ball. Then he sees all the blood on the stranger’s fingers and face, and maybe it’s just that.
They get to know each other of wads of bloody tissue (“I’m Jinki and this happens to me more often than you’d think.” “Well, I’m Taemin and-look, are you sure you’re alright?”) while Taemin’s mother plays nurse, bustling about the kitchen. That’s when Jinki tells Taemin that he’s a photography student and had taken a few photos of Taemin and hey, you’re pretty good at soccer, do you play on a team?
Taemin pushes the thought of a complete stranger taking pictures of him from afar to the back of his mind and shakes his head no. Jinki reaches for another tissue and doesn’t seem disappointed in the least. “Well, do you mind if I take some more pictures of you?” Taemin’s face goes funny, so he adds, “F-for class. You’re a good subject for action photos.”
When Taemin agrees with a low, reluctant mumble, he blames it on the fact that he’s almost broken the other’s nose and it’s the least he could do. It doesn’t have a thing to do with the way Jinki laughs at his mother’s bad jokes or smiles brightly even with tissue stuffed in his nose.
Jinki is at the park almost every day that Taemin is there, camera in tow. He tells Taemin to practice like normal, but Taemin finds that hard to do when he has a camera pointed at his every move. It distracts him enough to make him trip over the ball.
“I’m just going to… sit over here, okay?” Jinki calls from a spot of grass to Taemin’s left. The ball rolls to a stop after another failed dribbling drill and Taemin takes the opportunity to look at Jinki. He’s staring intently at his camera, finally focusing on something that isn’t Taemin. Feeling more comfortable by the second, Taemin begins drilling himself again, feet moving deftly around imaginary opponents.
At the end of the afternoon, Jinki joins Taemin on his walk home and shows him the pictures. They’re so stunning that Taemin stops walking to get a better look at them. Then he realizes that they were all taken after Jinki sat down.
Jinki points to Taemin’s face in a particularly good shot and says, “This is why you should be playing on a team.” Clearing his throat and attempting to ignore the way their shoulders bump, Taemin brushes the comment off as a case of someone having too much faith in him.
It takes the three weeks before soccer tryouts of not-so-subtle hints from Jinki (as well as unfaltering agreement from his mother, much to his annoyance) to convince Taemin to attempt to make the team. Unfortunately, more people than ever have decided to attend try outs this year, and doubt begins to creep in with each afternoon of straining his body. Some days he tries so hard that he collapses into bed as soon as he gets home, exhaustion woven deep into his muscles and bones. These are also the days when Jinki comes over and gives him clumsy massages and brushes his lips against Taemin’s overworked calves, and Taemin has to wonder when they got so comfortable with each other.
It was probably between shutter clicks the day they rolled around in the grass fighting over the camera, he thinks.
Taemin makes the team as a midfielder and he’s never been happier. He wears his new red and white uniform with pride and even lets Jinki take pictures of him wearing it. And as if in extension to Taemin’s happiness, Jinki makes it a point to hang out at every practice and match that he can make it to.
Taemin does better than he had expected, and the coach sometimes tells him that he could go far if he keeps it up. There’s not much substance behind his words the way Taemin sees it, but with every match they win and every goal he scores, he feels them become a little more tangible.
“Maybe I can do this,” he says to Jinki one day, eyes closed and hair fanned out around his head on his pillow. His eyes open and his ears are met with a click that signals that this moment will be yet another addition to Jinki’s collection of candid photos.
Up until their final match, they are undefeated. The closer the final game comes, the greater the buzz around the whole team, Taemin included. Talk of how great being the undefeated champions of the season would be fills the locker rooms until a new subject floats in, mysterious and electrifying.
There are rumors of scouts at the last match, scouts that become vague, looming figures without names or faces as the gossip swells. Their presence is felt at every practice by every team member, but Taemin finds that he doesn’t care as much as the other boys. Then he overhears something a little more concrete; he hears that the scouts will probably be looking for Choi Minho, a tall forward in his senior year, and himself.
It’s jarring and leaves him feeling oddly excited and displaced all at once, but after the initial rush he’s left feeling grounded and irritable. His thoughts begin to all point toward improvement. Suddenly, he spends every free moment of daytime practicing and the rest of the time sulking.
“Say cheese!” Jinki calls when they are sitting in Taemin’s room. Taemin burrows his face into his folded arms.
“Stop it with the stupid camera.” His voice is muffled, but the sting of his words isn’t if the way Jinki deflates into himself is any indication.
Everything that isn’t soccer becomes a nuisance. Dinners with his parents become bothersome, studying becomes dull, and Jinki becomes an obstruction. He’s sure the way he brushes Jinki off repeatedly hurts his feelings, but he promises silently to make it up after the game. He’ll spend weeks at a time with Jinki if he has to, but not now. Not when he’s this close.
That evening is a blur of camera flashes, enemy jerseys, and questionable penalties. Through it all, the game ends for Taemin with two goals and a game-winning assist that leave him elevated far above the pitch. His world is confetti from nowhere, sweaty hugs, and the feeling of flying until he is brought back to Earth by a hand on his shoulder and, “There’s someone that would like to see you.”
In person, the scouts look no different than ordinary people, but they still have the power to change everything for Taemin. They are smiles and congratulations that humble Taemin beyond words until they begin talking about his potential future in faraway countries with revered teams; he goes deaf around their words.
They part like a heartbreaking scene from a movie, somber and mute. They are at an airport, wrapped in the sounds of the rest of the world coming and going. Jinki is scuffing the tips of his shoes against the floor, his camera hanging dejectedly from his neck. Taemin wants to say something, anything, but his throat is closed around words that he could never say anyway. Everyone else has already said their goodbyes, so there is nothing to save them from this moment but themselves.
Suddenly, Jinki looks up. “So… you’ll call me, right?” And Taemin’s smile almost reaches his eyes until he realizes that even promises are stretched by distance. He closes his mouth and nods. Jinki smiles in return, and it’s the same watery smile from day one, but with a whole new circumstance. This time, it just leaves Taemin feeling sick.
They hug stiffly, and Taemin boards his flight without another word.
Fandom and Pairing: Shinee; Onew/Taemin
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,500
Summary: Taemin gets a one-way ticket to something that he's not sure he ever wanted.
Warnings: N/A
Prompt #: 2
They meet like a page torn straight from a young adult romance novel. It’s a breezy afternoon with perfect sunshine and billowing clouds, the kind that happen so infrequently as to be thought impossible. The setting is a park, surrounded by laughing children and picnics with thin sundresses and small talk. It might’ve even been something almost magical if it weren’t for the blood and grass stains.
Taemin lines himself up for the winning shot in a match that only he can see and kicks. It’s definitely one of his better shots, he thinks. Except for the part where the ball rams into an innocent bystander’s face, at least. He’s struck hard and heavy with horror as the ball bounces away unscathed and his latest victim topples over. Before he knows it, he’s rushing forward, skidding to a stop on his knees, and, “Oh shit, are you okay?”
He realizes how stupid it is to ask that as his hands flutter about like birds in an attempt to settle somewhere that won’t cause any more damage. Instead of a scathing retort or a threat to sue, however, he gets a watery-and somewhat bloody-smile that makes his mind reel like maybe he was the one that got nailed with a soccer ball. Then he sees all the blood on the stranger’s fingers and face, and maybe it’s just that.
They get to know each other of wads of bloody tissue (“I’m Jinki and this happens to me more often than you’d think.” “Well, I’m Taemin and-look, are you sure you’re alright?”) while Taemin’s mother plays nurse, bustling about the kitchen. That’s when Jinki tells Taemin that he’s a photography student and had taken a few photos of Taemin and hey, you’re pretty good at soccer, do you play on a team?
Taemin pushes the thought of a complete stranger taking pictures of him from afar to the back of his mind and shakes his head no. Jinki reaches for another tissue and doesn’t seem disappointed in the least. “Well, do you mind if I take some more pictures of you?” Taemin’s face goes funny, so he adds, “F-for class. You’re a good subject for action photos.”
When Taemin agrees with a low, reluctant mumble, he blames it on the fact that he’s almost broken the other’s nose and it’s the least he could do. It doesn’t have a thing to do with the way Jinki laughs at his mother’s bad jokes or smiles brightly even with tissue stuffed in his nose.
Jinki is at the park almost every day that Taemin is there, camera in tow. He tells Taemin to practice like normal, but Taemin finds that hard to do when he has a camera pointed at his every move. It distracts him enough to make him trip over the ball.
“I’m just going to… sit over here, okay?” Jinki calls from a spot of grass to Taemin’s left. The ball rolls to a stop after another failed dribbling drill and Taemin takes the opportunity to look at Jinki. He’s staring intently at his camera, finally focusing on something that isn’t Taemin. Feeling more comfortable by the second, Taemin begins drilling himself again, feet moving deftly around imaginary opponents.
At the end of the afternoon, Jinki joins Taemin on his walk home and shows him the pictures. They’re so stunning that Taemin stops walking to get a better look at them. Then he realizes that they were all taken after Jinki sat down.
Jinki points to Taemin’s face in a particularly good shot and says, “This is why you should be playing on a team.” Clearing his throat and attempting to ignore the way their shoulders bump, Taemin brushes the comment off as a case of someone having too much faith in him.
It takes the three weeks before soccer tryouts of not-so-subtle hints from Jinki (as well as unfaltering agreement from his mother, much to his annoyance) to convince Taemin to attempt to make the team. Unfortunately, more people than ever have decided to attend try outs this year, and doubt begins to creep in with each afternoon of straining his body. Some days he tries so hard that he collapses into bed as soon as he gets home, exhaustion woven deep into his muscles and bones. These are also the days when Jinki comes over and gives him clumsy massages and brushes his lips against Taemin’s overworked calves, and Taemin has to wonder when they got so comfortable with each other.
It was probably between shutter clicks the day they rolled around in the grass fighting over the camera, he thinks.
Taemin makes the team as a midfielder and he’s never been happier. He wears his new red and white uniform with pride and even lets Jinki take pictures of him wearing it. And as if in extension to Taemin’s happiness, Jinki makes it a point to hang out at every practice and match that he can make it to.
Taemin does better than he had expected, and the coach sometimes tells him that he could go far if he keeps it up. There’s not much substance behind his words the way Taemin sees it, but with every match they win and every goal he scores, he feels them become a little more tangible.
“Maybe I can do this,” he says to Jinki one day, eyes closed and hair fanned out around his head on his pillow. His eyes open and his ears are met with a click that signals that this moment will be yet another addition to Jinki’s collection of candid photos.
Up until their final match, they are undefeated. The closer the final game comes, the greater the buzz around the whole team, Taemin included. Talk of how great being the undefeated champions of the season would be fills the locker rooms until a new subject floats in, mysterious and electrifying.
There are rumors of scouts at the last match, scouts that become vague, looming figures without names or faces as the gossip swells. Their presence is felt at every practice by every team member, but Taemin finds that he doesn’t care as much as the other boys. Then he overhears something a little more concrete; he hears that the scouts will probably be looking for Choi Minho, a tall forward in his senior year, and himself.
It’s jarring and leaves him feeling oddly excited and displaced all at once, but after the initial rush he’s left feeling grounded and irritable. His thoughts begin to all point toward improvement. Suddenly, he spends every free moment of daytime practicing and the rest of the time sulking.
“Say cheese!” Jinki calls when they are sitting in Taemin’s room. Taemin burrows his face into his folded arms.
“Stop it with the stupid camera.” His voice is muffled, but the sting of his words isn’t if the way Jinki deflates into himself is any indication.
Everything that isn’t soccer becomes a nuisance. Dinners with his parents become bothersome, studying becomes dull, and Jinki becomes an obstruction. He’s sure the way he brushes Jinki off repeatedly hurts his feelings, but he promises silently to make it up after the game. He’ll spend weeks at a time with Jinki if he has to, but not now. Not when he’s this close.
That evening is a blur of camera flashes, enemy jerseys, and questionable penalties. Through it all, the game ends for Taemin with two goals and a game-winning assist that leave him elevated far above the pitch. His world is confetti from nowhere, sweaty hugs, and the feeling of flying until he is brought back to Earth by a hand on his shoulder and, “There’s someone that would like to see you.”
In person, the scouts look no different than ordinary people, but they still have the power to change everything for Taemin. They are smiles and congratulations that humble Taemin beyond words until they begin talking about his potential future in faraway countries with revered teams; he goes deaf around their words.
They part like a heartbreaking scene from a movie, somber and mute. They are at an airport, wrapped in the sounds of the rest of the world coming and going. Jinki is scuffing the tips of his shoes against the floor, his camera hanging dejectedly from his neck. Taemin wants to say something, anything, but his throat is closed around words that he could never say anyway. Everyone else has already said their goodbyes, so there is nothing to save them from this moment but themselves.
Suddenly, Jinki looks up. “So… you’ll call me, right?” And Taemin’s smile almost reaches his eyes until he realizes that even promises are stretched by distance. He closes his mouth and nods. Jinki smiles in return, and it’s the same watery smile from day one, but with a whole new circumstance. This time, it just leaves Taemin feeling sick.
They hug stiffly, and Taemin boards his flight without another word.