DBSG: Jaechun drabble
breaking
Some nights, it hurts too much to sleep.
It’s a constant, throbbing pain that seems more like his heart breaking than his knee hurting, and Jaejoong fists his hands in his blankets, squeezes his pillow to him, tries to will it all away. The glow of the alarm clock burns red behind his eyelids; the soft breathing of the other boys drowned out by the blood pounding in his ears. A whimper escapes unwillingly from his throat to be smothered in the pillow. He knows if he tries to get up for some painkillers he’ll wake someone up-and then they’ll know how bad it is.
With a deep, shuddering breath he opens his eyes, looking for a distraction, anything: he can barely see Junsu’s sleeping form on his top bunk, rising and falling gently as he breathes. Changmin’s under him, lanky limbs strewn haphazardly over the mattress, a book still open on his pillow. Yunho is in Jaejoong’s old bed, the bunk over Yoochun, and Yoochun is-
-sliding under the covers next to Jaejoong, fitting against him from behind, an arm curling secure around Jaejoong’s waist as a kiss is pressed to his shoulder.
“Shh,” whispers Yoochun. “It’ll be okay.”
A noise somewhere between a gasp and a sob is muffled in Jaejoong’s pillow as he clutches it close with one arm, grappling blindly for Yoochun’s hand with the other, curling too-hot fingers around it and squeezing, “God, it hurts-”
“I know, I know,” Yoochun shushes. “Relax, just relax, you’ll be okay.”
Jaejoong can feel the other boy’s breath on his skin; there’s another kiss, cool against the back of his neck. Yoochun smoothes his hand soft against the mattress, finds the other one, gently pries it from its death grip on the pillow.
“You’ll be okay,” he repeats, with a conviction like saying it will make it true, and the tears burning behind Jaejoong’s eyes suddenly aren’t from pain anymore.
Some nights, it hurts too much to sleep.
It’s a constant, throbbing pain that seems more like his heart breaking than his knee hurting, and Jaejoong fists his hands in his blankets, squeezes his pillow to him, tries to will it all away. The glow of the alarm clock burns red behind his eyelids; the soft breathing of the other boys drowned out by the blood pounding in his ears. A whimper escapes unwillingly from his throat to be smothered in the pillow. He knows if he tries to get up for some painkillers he’ll wake someone up-and then they’ll know how bad it is.
With a deep, shuddering breath he opens his eyes, looking for a distraction, anything: he can barely see Junsu’s sleeping form on his top bunk, rising and falling gently as he breathes. Changmin’s under him, lanky limbs strewn haphazardly over the mattress, a book still open on his pillow. Yunho is in Jaejoong’s old bed, the bunk over Yoochun, and Yoochun is-
-sliding under the covers next to Jaejoong, fitting against him from behind, an arm curling secure around Jaejoong’s waist as a kiss is pressed to his shoulder.
“Shh,” whispers Yoochun. “It’ll be okay.”
A noise somewhere between a gasp and a sob is muffled in Jaejoong’s pillow as he clutches it close with one arm, grappling blindly for Yoochun’s hand with the other, curling too-hot fingers around it and squeezing, “God, it hurts-”
“I know, I know,” Yoochun shushes. “Relax, just relax, you’ll be okay.”
Jaejoong can feel the other boy’s breath on his skin; there’s another kiss, cool against the back of his neck. Yoochun smoothes his hand soft against the mattress, finds the other one, gently pries it from its death grip on the pillow.
“You’ll be okay,” he repeats, with a conviction like saying it will make it true, and the tears burning behind Jaejoong’s eyes suddenly aren’t from pain anymore.