Powder Blue [Oneshot]
Title: Powder Blue
Pairing: Onew / Jessica
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~2000
Disclaimer: Same old.
Summary: They’re twins in white and blue.
A/N: I said I felt like writing more pairings outside of Jongkey; I can’t believe I actually followed through on it.
Huge Onew/Jessica shipper, don’t judge me. Enjoy if you like~
Also completely in present tense. Don’t know how that happened. Takes place, theoretically, in the summer. Jumbled events but WHATEVER.
===
Onew notices her for the way she smiles backstage, when everyone else is sweating bullets and wringing their hands.
He notices her for the way she smiles and hugs the other SNSD girls, the way she straightens Tiffany’s hair tie and the way she squeals when Taeyeon slaps her on the butt before going onstage (he grimaces at this, too, and decides that this would completely be something Key would do).
And then he tells himself, Dude, this is SNSD you’re talking about. This is Jessica you’re talking about. Think about what the fans would say.
Without fail, the needling response comes as soon as he finishes that thought, in a voice full of smirk: Yeah, what would the fans say?
Onew doesn’t have an answer for that.
And it’s in the way she treats him that really makes the guillotine fall and decapitate his resolve to ignore her and the way she enraptures him.
“Hey,” she says, coming up behind him backstage after their One Year Later duet. Her blonde hair’s been hastily tied up into a knot at the crown of her head, but she’s still wearing the white satin number and Onew thinks, Is this what an angel is supposed to look like?
“Good job today,” he finishes for her, smiling a silly smile and she returns it, looking a little disproportionate for the half-altered makeup she’s sporting. Onew wonders vaguely whether or not to ask what her next stage is, but his stomach does an uncooperative back flip when she blushes at his stare.
“Yeah, ignore the makeup, I escaped the clutches of a coordi unnie to come drop a word. I should be getting back now. Good luck later!”
“Jessica!”
She turns around, and Onew notices with amusement that there’s a long, stray lock of ash blonde trailing down her bare back. “Yeah?”
“Uhm,” Onew says awkwardly (he even beats Yesung in the name of awkwardness, sometimes). “Uhm, good job today.” And he realizes then that he’s said this already, and blushes furiously.
Jessica just smiles and laughs again, and says, “You too, oppa. You too.”
She disappears behind black suits, blue leotards, and a sparkly blue jumpsuit, and Onew can’t wipe off the smile on his face.
“What’s up with you?” Key asks, coming behind Onew, who jumps a mile. “What’re you smiling about?”
“Nothing,” Onew says, and Key walks away, rolling his eyes. He says something to Jonghyun, pointing at his eyelids, and Jonghyun laughs--probably because Key’s eyeliner is so obnoxiously silver, it rivals even BoA’s.
But all Onew can do is stare at the blonde head across the dressing room, smiling like what Key would dub “a lovestruck drunk.”
Key finds out later that night. Onew can’t say he’s surprised.
“You’re confused,” Key says, “you’re smiling, you don’t hear anything we say, and you have this glazed look,” he finished, ticking them off on his fingers. “You like someone.” He says this with unnerving conviction.
“Hrmph,” Onew grunts around his toothbrush, trumping to the bedroom and back to grab his bath towel. “What’s it to you.”
“So you do,” Key says leaning up towards Onew with an interested glint in his eye.
“Mmph.” Onew spits, rinses, and ignores Key completely until he’s about to strip down and take a shower. He gives Key a please-get-out-of-here-before-you-get-an-unhappy-eyeful look, which Key disregards completely.
“Who?” he asks.
“Someone,” Onew says, shrugging.
“Someone I know?”
“Maybe.”
“You’re worse than Jonghyun.”
“Why, does he play the same game with you? Man, what I’d give to see that.”
Key narrows his eyes, and Onew hopes he hasn’t struck a nerve--because striking one of Key’s nerves is asking to have a water bottle shoved up his ass.
“Not funny, Jinki,” Key says, voice losing its saccharine, playful tone and taking one a stinging one. “I only asked; you don’t have to bring anything else up and mess with me.”
“You’re the one letting it get to you,” Onew says, shrugging and sneezing tactlessly (he’s perfected the art of body gags at the worst possible times). “I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re a dick,” Key says, stalking away like an offended cat, and Onew just smiles, petulantly happy, and tells himself that this attitude would never get him a girl.
Unless Jessica has a liking for social ineptitude.
Onew steps out of the steaming bathroom with wet hair and freshly rejuvenated consciousness, and wonders vaguely why the apartment seems so quiet. The others must be asleep, or at least pretending to be. At most, Jonghyun and Taemin are probably still awake, being the two last to fall asleep.
It’s hot in the dorm, hotter than usual, and Onew wonders why the AC isn’t as low as it usually is during this time of year. He has on a tank top (that probably belongs to Jonghyun, now that he thinks about it--he doesn’t own white wife-beaters) and pajama pants that could pass as a skirt, they’re so loose.
He opens the front door, letting the draft cool his face, and he presses his cheek to the iron curlicue door outside the wooden one. It’s around midnight, the hallway is quiet, and he sighs. Life is impenetrably provincial as an idol when not onstage, and Onew never was one to meld into the superstar lifestyle--he’s notorious for it.
He unlocks the iron door, letting it swing shut behind him with a soft click and breathes in the slightly muggy air of the summer night. The tile is cool under his feet, and he pads down the dim hallway towards the drafty elevator platform.
There’s someone there already when he turns the corner, and he jumps a little when he sees the shadowed figure. A face turns to look at him, illuminated by the streetlamp and the moon.
“Onew,” Jessica says in surprise, “what are you doing up?”
“I could ask you the same question,” he says, sitting down next to her on the wooden bench located next to the window.
“I asked first.”
“Fair enough. It’s too stuffed up in there. I felt suffocated.”
“I get that a lot,” Jessica agrees. “Nine girls in one suite. Three of us have PMS on any given day. It gets kind of ugly sometimes.”
Onew raises an eyebrow in question, and Jessica gives a slight chuckle. “We’ve gotten into some pretty bitchy fights before.”
“Catfights, huh?”
“Nothing short of them,” Jessica says, smiling wider. She’s holding a fizzing can of Mountain Dew and sipping lazily from it; Onew wonders if her manager knows about this. He likes the rebel in her. (He likes a lot of stuff about her.)
“Want some?” she says, catching him eyeing it. “Got it from the vending machine at the noodle place downstairs.” It’s the one all the idols in this dorm go to for a quick fix.
“You are one sneaky girl,” Onew says, laughing and taking the can. He pours some into his mouth, reveling in the fact he doesn’t spill any on Jonghyun’s shirt, and hands it back to her.
It’s comfortably silent for a long time before Jessica--who has her head against the wall, looking out the window at Seoul’s night skyline--says, “Don’t you wish you could get out of here sometime, see the world?”
“That has a lot of meanings.”
“Look at us,” Jessica says. “We’re all in our early twenties--Leeteuk is practically ancient compared to us, but in normal society, he’s at that age where he should be falling in love and dating and finding that person to spend the rest of his life with. He’s still stuck here, in SM.”
“None of us got the teen-hoods that civilians have,” Onew agrees. “I know. It hits Jonghyun the hardest, since he never got his diploma. It’s the one thing he regrets most about his life.”
“You see?” Jessica says, turning back, and Onew gulps when a strand of raw, unstyled blonde hair falls across her shoulder--she’s wearing a pink spaghetti tank top to ward off the heat, too. “You see how it is? By the time we’re out of here, the time to figure out who we are and who we want to be with will be over.”
“Who we are, huh,” Onew murmurs, and he think he understands what she means, a little. “I’m a singer, but…there’s a lot more to it.”
“After a while here,” Jessica says, and Onew jumps when her grip tightens on the can, aluminum cracking in the dark, “I can’t figure out who I am--Jessica, the one onstage, the one that smiles and flips her hair and acts like the Ice Princess of SM, or Jessica, the girl from the suburbs LA that just wanted to grow up and have a job to get by and a family. Do you honestly think we’ll ever be able to have that, now?”
Onew’s honest answer would be no, but he can’t quite bring himself to say it. He knows Jessica doesn’t cry easily--she’s not crowned Ice Princess for nothing--but her eyes are jaded, vulnerable. It’s the look of any SM idol after a long day, after eyeliner and concealer and disguises of sexy are taken off.
“Even if we don’t,” Onew says, putting a hand--nervously--on her shoulder, “just know that I’ll know everything you just said, okay?”
Jessica laughed. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It--it means--”
“But thanks, though,” Jessica says, “it’s good to know that I’m not the only one who…” She twists her mouth distastefully.
“It’s not that I regret joining SM,” Onew says for her, “but I regret not being able to live the life I could have had if I hadn’t.”
She drops her head onto his shoulder, hair still damp--like his--and Onew jumps for the third time tonight, heart beating wildly out of his chest and his stomach in overdrive, his brain telling both of them to shut up and behave.
“Thanks, oppa,” Jessica says, “thanks for listening.”
And Onew would say, “No problem, what are idol families for?” but instead, a barely audible, “Just for you, right?” slips out without his permission.
But Jessica is already drifting off, and Onew is halfway thankful she didn’t hear it.
They find themselves backstage again, squished together, and Jessica wears a baby blue dress that brushes her knees, crystal drop earrings, and pin-straight hair. He’s donned a matching blue tuxedo. Normally, he’d think they looked chipper and ready to deliver--right now, he feels like an oversized pomander.
“You’re nervous,” Jessica says, straightening his bowtie. “Chill. We’ve done this before.”
“I know,” Onew says, shifting his weight from right to left, right to left. “I know, I’m still nervous.”
“You weren’t nervous when we performed Ring Ding Dong,” Jonghyun supplies unhelpfully, and make a noise of dissent when his sweaty shirt is peeled off by a coordi noona and a backless vest is pulled over his head.
“Yeah, you weren’t,” Jessica says, bringing her hands down on his shoulders--she’s still a little shorter than him, even with heels. “It’s okay, oppa, calm down.” She punctuates each word with a gentle shake.
She’s too close, Onew thinks fuzzily in the haze of rushed bodies and voices backstage, and something makes him lean down and brush his lips across her cheek, and she tenses visibly.
He doesn’t realize what he’s done until the feel of her cheek burns against his lips.
When he straightens up, Jonghyun is staring at him like what-the-fuck-did-you-just-pull-you-have-a-lot-of-’splainin-to-do, but Onew ignores him and looks down at Jessica’s flabbergasted expression. Her eyes are huge, resembling Taemin’s, her mouth open slightly. He breaks into a nervous smile, and after a moment, she does too.
She reaches up, hugs his neck, and hears her whisper in his ear:
“We can do this. We’re going to do this.”
And later, under the lights, Onew is inexplicably happy when it’s his part to sing, and he’s inexplicably happy when they link hands and walk down the stage, smiling--genuinely. And Jessica’s hand fits in his--it feels like home, so small, so warm, so right.
===
A/N: I actually can’t believe I managed to write this as Auds was giving me all these insanely graphic sexual images. \o/
Lots of CAPS abuse was used, I can say that much.
Oh yeah, dedicated to almightyblinger (kind of) for being the only other Onew/Jessica shipper I know. But there are more out there, I think.
…still kind of bewildered as to how or why I wrote an Onew/Jessica @__@ Cross-posted at 19_blue_roses .
Pairing: Onew / Jessica
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~2000
Disclaimer: Same old.
Summary: They’re twins in white and blue.
A/N: I said I felt like writing more pairings outside of Jongkey; I can’t believe I actually followed through on it.
Huge Onew/Jessica shipper, don’t judge me. Enjoy if you like~
Also completely in present tense. Don’t know how that happened. Takes place, theoretically, in the summer. Jumbled events but WHATEVER.
===
Onew notices her for the way she smiles backstage, when everyone else is sweating bullets and wringing their hands.
He notices her for the way she smiles and hugs the other SNSD girls, the way she straightens Tiffany’s hair tie and the way she squeals when Taeyeon slaps her on the butt before going onstage (he grimaces at this, too, and decides that this would completely be something Key would do).
And then he tells himself, Dude, this is SNSD you’re talking about. This is Jessica you’re talking about. Think about what the fans would say.
Without fail, the needling response comes as soon as he finishes that thought, in a voice full of smirk: Yeah, what would the fans say?
Onew doesn’t have an answer for that.
And it’s in the way she treats him that really makes the guillotine fall and decapitate his resolve to ignore her and the way she enraptures him.
“Hey,” she says, coming up behind him backstage after their One Year Later duet. Her blonde hair’s been hastily tied up into a knot at the crown of her head, but she’s still wearing the white satin number and Onew thinks, Is this what an angel is supposed to look like?
“Good job today,” he finishes for her, smiling a silly smile and she returns it, looking a little disproportionate for the half-altered makeup she’s sporting. Onew wonders vaguely whether or not to ask what her next stage is, but his stomach does an uncooperative back flip when she blushes at his stare.
“Yeah, ignore the makeup, I escaped the clutches of a coordi unnie to come drop a word. I should be getting back now. Good luck later!”
“Jessica!”
She turns around, and Onew notices with amusement that there’s a long, stray lock of ash blonde trailing down her bare back. “Yeah?”
“Uhm,” Onew says awkwardly (he even beats Yesung in the name of awkwardness, sometimes). “Uhm, good job today.” And he realizes then that he’s said this already, and blushes furiously.
Jessica just smiles and laughs again, and says, “You too, oppa. You too.”
She disappears behind black suits, blue leotards, and a sparkly blue jumpsuit, and Onew can’t wipe off the smile on his face.
“What’s up with you?” Key asks, coming behind Onew, who jumps a mile. “What’re you smiling about?”
“Nothing,” Onew says, and Key walks away, rolling his eyes. He says something to Jonghyun, pointing at his eyelids, and Jonghyun laughs--probably because Key’s eyeliner is so obnoxiously silver, it rivals even BoA’s.
But all Onew can do is stare at the blonde head across the dressing room, smiling like what Key would dub “a lovestruck drunk.”
Key finds out later that night. Onew can’t say he’s surprised.
“You’re confused,” Key says, “you’re smiling, you don’t hear anything we say, and you have this glazed look,” he finished, ticking them off on his fingers. “You like someone.” He says this with unnerving conviction.
“Hrmph,” Onew grunts around his toothbrush, trumping to the bedroom and back to grab his bath towel. “What’s it to you.”
“So you do,” Key says leaning up towards Onew with an interested glint in his eye.
“Mmph.” Onew spits, rinses, and ignores Key completely until he’s about to strip down and take a shower. He gives Key a please-get-out-of-here-before-you-get-an-unhappy-eyeful look, which Key disregards completely.
“Who?” he asks.
“Someone,” Onew says, shrugging.
“Someone I know?”
“Maybe.”
“You’re worse than Jonghyun.”
“Why, does he play the same game with you? Man, what I’d give to see that.”
Key narrows his eyes, and Onew hopes he hasn’t struck a nerve--because striking one of Key’s nerves is asking to have a water bottle shoved up his ass.
“Not funny, Jinki,” Key says, voice losing its saccharine, playful tone and taking one a stinging one. “I only asked; you don’t have to bring anything else up and mess with me.”
“You’re the one letting it get to you,” Onew says, shrugging and sneezing tactlessly (he’s perfected the art of body gags at the worst possible times). “I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re a dick,” Key says, stalking away like an offended cat, and Onew just smiles, petulantly happy, and tells himself that this attitude would never get him a girl.
Unless Jessica has a liking for social ineptitude.
Onew steps out of the steaming bathroom with wet hair and freshly rejuvenated consciousness, and wonders vaguely why the apartment seems so quiet. The others must be asleep, or at least pretending to be. At most, Jonghyun and Taemin are probably still awake, being the two last to fall asleep.
It’s hot in the dorm, hotter than usual, and Onew wonders why the AC isn’t as low as it usually is during this time of year. He has on a tank top (that probably belongs to Jonghyun, now that he thinks about it--he doesn’t own white wife-beaters) and pajama pants that could pass as a skirt, they’re so loose.
He opens the front door, letting the draft cool his face, and he presses his cheek to the iron curlicue door outside the wooden one. It’s around midnight, the hallway is quiet, and he sighs. Life is impenetrably provincial as an idol when not onstage, and Onew never was one to meld into the superstar lifestyle--he’s notorious for it.
He unlocks the iron door, letting it swing shut behind him with a soft click and breathes in the slightly muggy air of the summer night. The tile is cool under his feet, and he pads down the dim hallway towards the drafty elevator platform.
There’s someone there already when he turns the corner, and he jumps a little when he sees the shadowed figure. A face turns to look at him, illuminated by the streetlamp and the moon.
“Onew,” Jessica says in surprise, “what are you doing up?”
“I could ask you the same question,” he says, sitting down next to her on the wooden bench located next to the window.
“I asked first.”
“Fair enough. It’s too stuffed up in there. I felt suffocated.”
“I get that a lot,” Jessica agrees. “Nine girls in one suite. Three of us have PMS on any given day. It gets kind of ugly sometimes.”
Onew raises an eyebrow in question, and Jessica gives a slight chuckle. “We’ve gotten into some pretty bitchy fights before.”
“Catfights, huh?”
“Nothing short of them,” Jessica says, smiling wider. She’s holding a fizzing can of Mountain Dew and sipping lazily from it; Onew wonders if her manager knows about this. He likes the rebel in her. (He likes a lot of stuff about her.)
“Want some?” she says, catching him eyeing it. “Got it from the vending machine at the noodle place downstairs.” It’s the one all the idols in this dorm go to for a quick fix.
“You are one sneaky girl,” Onew says, laughing and taking the can. He pours some into his mouth, reveling in the fact he doesn’t spill any on Jonghyun’s shirt, and hands it back to her.
It’s comfortably silent for a long time before Jessica--who has her head against the wall, looking out the window at Seoul’s night skyline--says, “Don’t you wish you could get out of here sometime, see the world?”
“That has a lot of meanings.”
“Look at us,” Jessica says. “We’re all in our early twenties--Leeteuk is practically ancient compared to us, but in normal society, he’s at that age where he should be falling in love and dating and finding that person to spend the rest of his life with. He’s still stuck here, in SM.”
“None of us got the teen-hoods that civilians have,” Onew agrees. “I know. It hits Jonghyun the hardest, since he never got his diploma. It’s the one thing he regrets most about his life.”
“You see?” Jessica says, turning back, and Onew gulps when a strand of raw, unstyled blonde hair falls across her shoulder--she’s wearing a pink spaghetti tank top to ward off the heat, too. “You see how it is? By the time we’re out of here, the time to figure out who we are and who we want to be with will be over.”
“Who we are, huh,” Onew murmurs, and he think he understands what she means, a little. “I’m a singer, but…there’s a lot more to it.”
“After a while here,” Jessica says, and Onew jumps when her grip tightens on the can, aluminum cracking in the dark, “I can’t figure out who I am--Jessica, the one onstage, the one that smiles and flips her hair and acts like the Ice Princess of SM, or Jessica, the girl from the suburbs LA that just wanted to grow up and have a job to get by and a family. Do you honestly think we’ll ever be able to have that, now?”
Onew’s honest answer would be no, but he can’t quite bring himself to say it. He knows Jessica doesn’t cry easily--she’s not crowned Ice Princess for nothing--but her eyes are jaded, vulnerable. It’s the look of any SM idol after a long day, after eyeliner and concealer and disguises of sexy are taken off.
“Even if we don’t,” Onew says, putting a hand--nervously--on her shoulder, “just know that I’ll know everything you just said, okay?”
Jessica laughed. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It--it means--”
“But thanks, though,” Jessica says, “it’s good to know that I’m not the only one who…” She twists her mouth distastefully.
“It’s not that I regret joining SM,” Onew says for her, “but I regret not being able to live the life I could have had if I hadn’t.”
She drops her head onto his shoulder, hair still damp--like his--and Onew jumps for the third time tonight, heart beating wildly out of his chest and his stomach in overdrive, his brain telling both of them to shut up and behave.
“Thanks, oppa,” Jessica says, “thanks for listening.”
And Onew would say, “No problem, what are idol families for?” but instead, a barely audible, “Just for you, right?” slips out without his permission.
But Jessica is already drifting off, and Onew is halfway thankful she didn’t hear it.
They find themselves backstage again, squished together, and Jessica wears a baby blue dress that brushes her knees, crystal drop earrings, and pin-straight hair. He’s donned a matching blue tuxedo. Normally, he’d think they looked chipper and ready to deliver--right now, he feels like an oversized pomander.
“You’re nervous,” Jessica says, straightening his bowtie. “Chill. We’ve done this before.”
“I know,” Onew says, shifting his weight from right to left, right to left. “I know, I’m still nervous.”
“You weren’t nervous when we performed Ring Ding Dong,” Jonghyun supplies unhelpfully, and make a noise of dissent when his sweaty shirt is peeled off by a coordi noona and a backless vest is pulled over his head.
“Yeah, you weren’t,” Jessica says, bringing her hands down on his shoulders--she’s still a little shorter than him, even with heels. “It’s okay, oppa, calm down.” She punctuates each word with a gentle shake.
She’s too close, Onew thinks fuzzily in the haze of rushed bodies and voices backstage, and something makes him lean down and brush his lips across her cheek, and she tenses visibly.
He doesn’t realize what he’s done until the feel of her cheek burns against his lips.
When he straightens up, Jonghyun is staring at him like what-the-fuck-did-you-just-pull-you-have-a-lot-of-’splainin-to-do, but Onew ignores him and looks down at Jessica’s flabbergasted expression. Her eyes are huge, resembling Taemin’s, her mouth open slightly. He breaks into a nervous smile, and after a moment, she does too.
She reaches up, hugs his neck, and hears her whisper in his ear:
“We can do this. We’re going to do this.”
And later, under the lights, Onew is inexplicably happy when it’s his part to sing, and he’s inexplicably happy when they link hands and walk down the stage, smiling--genuinely. And Jessica’s hand fits in his--it feels like home, so small, so warm, so right.
===
A/N: I actually can’t believe I managed to write this as Auds was giving me all these insanely graphic sexual images. \o/
Lots of CAPS abuse was used, I can say that much.
Oh yeah, dedicated to almightyblinger (kind of) for being the only other Onew/Jessica shipper I know. But there are more out there, I think.
…still kind of bewildered as to how or why I wrote an Onew/Jessica @__@ Cross-posted at 19_blue_roses .