piece the pieces; your masterpiece
allegro
yunho&jaejoong, yoochun
pg, romance
for yoochun; because laughter is a virtue! happy bursday :)♥hugs
Allegro
his song has no name;
Oh gee; Go gaga
‘Yoogoo?’ Jaejoong whispers airily, calling Yoochun in a term of endearment usually used on idiots; but weren’t idiots unusually smart? Unseen and unheard, he tiptoes into the younger band mate’s office, piano pieces sailing across the simply furnished room, spiraling around his ankles as Yoochun bends over his organ, fingers deftly alighting on black and white keys.
Entranced inside a musical box of his own composition, Yoochun’s lips move, light tones that do a remix of sound. Jaejoong nigh saunters, the other man’s back to him, still a passing ghost of illusion, quiet and absorbed. He squats with aplomb next to the block of shelves which housed the collection of cds belonging to their most artistic band mate.
It should be a hobby, how Jaejoong finds his inner self in Yoochun’s creations. There were moments he’d drag the younger man to a piano just to feel whole again, and maybe it’s why Yunho walks in minutes after, spell bound and just as captivated. They bask in that instance where soul meets melody - Yunho’s small head on the cliff of Jaejoong’s shoulder - forging majestic harmony.
Just once, when Yunho lifts his head off from Jaejoong’s shoulder, and the smaller man turns at the movement - their eyes connect - and that brief spark which ignites at the same instance Yoochun takes his song to the next level of genius forms a chain reaction of emotions that has each chord plucking at their heart strings. If Yoochun were a warrior, he could have went to war with his music, each strike on the piano inflicting damage on an unworthy opponent.
Jaejoong feels his chest hammer in accordance to the beat, reeling from Yunho and his disarming smile, like a ticking metronome set on overdrive. One breath away from him, Yunho falters over that intense sensation; of wanting to forfeit everything he has ever had, if Jaejoong would be his forever.
Instead, he offers his hand; but not palms up, because he wasn’t going to be taking. He lets his fist hover; as if he held something so precious within that he could not bear to reveal it carelessly. Jaejoong’s own flies up, wrapping around his fist; a protection so solid that Yunho opens up to him, fingers dancing as they spread apart; gently, gently - and like this he gives his heart.
Piece the pieces; your masterpiece
They still, hands entwined simply and naturally; they’ve done this since the beginning of time. Yoochun stirs on their behalf - beauty in motion - his wrists twisting as they prance on the keyboard, soundlessly pressing down as his instrument - and how he wields it so well - fills up all the gaps of silence with the kind of power he unlocks; a flood of sensation, a torrent of words released like rain on dry land. Yunho thinks this Yoochun is the one that sets the stage, that steals the limelight.
Jaejoong thinks there’s no other.
He still hasn’t noticed them, flowing over his melody like grass tickled by the breeze. Passion knew no end; he might have done this till evermore. And perhaps, his older band mates could have lain there, eyeing the ceiling, counting the hairline cracks and fissures that shot across the paint like streams and rivers merged together in intervals. They could have mused at how all these lines represented lyrics, verses, bridges, choruses; coming together to form synchrony in song.
They would have;
but then Yoochun comes to an abrupt stop; his fingers poised above the organ, as if he could not bring himself to put them down. The room bubbles with quiet, and finally, Yoochun realizes; there are people sharing his air. He flicks a look behind, jumps a bit when he sees who they are: Yunho and Jaejoong, positioned on the floor like attentive audience, enraptured.
Yoochun grins, and it’s written on Jaejoong’s face as clear as crystal that he's about to ask for the origins of inspiration behind this recent work of art - and just after he eradicates the silence with the questioning voice of an angel, Yoochun gives them both a meaningful look; lets his gaze linger on each of his band mates as his lips curve languidly into the smile of the century, knowing and abounding in wisdom he'd attained from the very two people in front of himself.
Love, he replies, and that’s all there is to it.
~
Laughter is the closest distance between two people.
Victor Borge
a/n: i am forced into semi-hiatus. My laptop crashed on me because i loaded too many heechul vids at once DD; After the bandwidth exceeding thingy this is the cherry on top ;-; aish :: i may have lost some really important data and stuff but thank goodness i posted chun's bday fic proper the day before or it would have been destroyed together with my harddisk. Due to the circumstances, i won't be upping fic for about two weeks until 14 June. please don't stab me
and Yoochun; never stop going crazy! 8D your laughter is the best together with leeteuk's :DDv Happy Birthday Chunfailface!
yunho&jaejoong, yoochun
pg, romance
for yoochun; because laughter is a virtue! happy bursday :)♥hugs
Allegro
his song has no name;
Oh gee; Go gaga
‘Yoogoo?’ Jaejoong whispers airily, calling Yoochun in a term of endearment usually used on idiots; but weren’t idiots unusually smart? Unseen and unheard, he tiptoes into the younger band mate’s office, piano pieces sailing across the simply furnished room, spiraling around his ankles as Yoochun bends over his organ, fingers deftly alighting on black and white keys.
Entranced inside a musical box of his own composition, Yoochun’s lips move, light tones that do a remix of sound. Jaejoong nigh saunters, the other man’s back to him, still a passing ghost of illusion, quiet and absorbed. He squats with aplomb next to the block of shelves which housed the collection of cds belonging to their most artistic band mate.
It should be a hobby, how Jaejoong finds his inner self in Yoochun’s creations. There were moments he’d drag the younger man to a piano just to feel whole again, and maybe it’s why Yunho walks in minutes after, spell bound and just as captivated. They bask in that instance where soul meets melody - Yunho’s small head on the cliff of Jaejoong’s shoulder - forging majestic harmony.
Just once, when Yunho lifts his head off from Jaejoong’s shoulder, and the smaller man turns at the movement - their eyes connect - and that brief spark which ignites at the same instance Yoochun takes his song to the next level of genius forms a chain reaction of emotions that has each chord plucking at their heart strings. If Yoochun were a warrior, he could have went to war with his music, each strike on the piano inflicting damage on an unworthy opponent.
Jaejoong feels his chest hammer in accordance to the beat, reeling from Yunho and his disarming smile, like a ticking metronome set on overdrive. One breath away from him, Yunho falters over that intense sensation; of wanting to forfeit everything he has ever had, if Jaejoong would be his forever.
Instead, he offers his hand; but not palms up, because he wasn’t going to be taking. He lets his fist hover; as if he held something so precious within that he could not bear to reveal it carelessly. Jaejoong’s own flies up, wrapping around his fist; a protection so solid that Yunho opens up to him, fingers dancing as they spread apart; gently, gently - and like this he gives his heart.
Piece the pieces; your masterpiece
They still, hands entwined simply and naturally; they’ve done this since the beginning of time. Yoochun stirs on their behalf - beauty in motion - his wrists twisting as they prance on the keyboard, soundlessly pressing down as his instrument - and how he wields it so well - fills up all the gaps of silence with the kind of power he unlocks; a flood of sensation, a torrent of words released like rain on dry land. Yunho thinks this Yoochun is the one that sets the stage, that steals the limelight.
Jaejoong thinks there’s no other.
He still hasn’t noticed them, flowing over his melody like grass tickled by the breeze. Passion knew no end; he might have done this till evermore. And perhaps, his older band mates could have lain there, eyeing the ceiling, counting the hairline cracks and fissures that shot across the paint like streams and rivers merged together in intervals. They could have mused at how all these lines represented lyrics, verses, bridges, choruses; coming together to form synchrony in song.
They would have;
but then Yoochun comes to an abrupt stop; his fingers poised above the organ, as if he could not bring himself to put them down. The room bubbles with quiet, and finally, Yoochun realizes; there are people sharing his air. He flicks a look behind, jumps a bit when he sees who they are: Yunho and Jaejoong, positioned on the floor like attentive audience, enraptured.
Yoochun grins, and it’s written on Jaejoong’s face as clear as crystal that he's about to ask for the origins of inspiration behind this recent work of art - and just after he eradicates the silence with the questioning voice of an angel, Yoochun gives them both a meaningful look; lets his gaze linger on each of his band mates as his lips curve languidly into the smile of the century, knowing and abounding in wisdom he'd attained from the very two people in front of himself.
Love, he replies, and that’s all there is to it.
~
Laughter is the closest distance between two people.
Victor Borge
a/n: i am forced into semi-hiatus. My laptop crashed on me because i loaded too many heechul vids at once DD; After the bandwidth exceeding thingy this is the cherry on top ;-; aish :: i may have lost some really important data and stuff but thank goodness i posted chun's bday fic proper the day before or it would have been destroyed together with my harddisk. Due to the circumstances, i won't be upping fic for about two weeks until 14 June. please don't stab me
and Yoochun; never stop going crazy! 8D your laughter is the best together with leeteuk's :DDv Happy Birthday Chunfailface!