Fic - Autumn
Autumn
jaeho; G
516 words.
And you play in the autumn leaves, laugh and smiling while red, orange, and yellow fly through the air. Play, laugh, and smile. He pushes you into the pile you raked less than an hour ago, and he’s sweaty, laughing, shining against the clear autumn sun. He flops down next to you, making leaves fly into the air while doing so. The back of his hand lands on your stomach, hard. Ouch. He laughs again (like HA! HA! HA!, far too loud to be romantic), turning to you.
His hair is peeking from his beanie, wisps of dried blonde hair catching small bits of leaves. You pull them out, squeezing and pull strands between your fingers. The sun is setting behind him, making his hair look a warm orange instead of the pale blonde you've gotten yourself used to. That reminds you of Junsu a little, except Jaejoong is so different in every other way.
"You better not be thinking about some other man right now, Jung Yunho." His fingers are combing through you hair, catching the occasional tangled leaf.
"Never." And as much as you would like to stay there, the two of you are in t-shirts and jeans and it feels like it's approaching 45 degrees. That, and the children inside are yelling and making threats about using all of Jaejoong's shampoo if the two of you don't come in right now so Jaejoong could make dinner.
You get up and he's still lying there, staring at the print you left behind that looks nothing like a human.
"Jaejoong."
He reaches out a hand and waits for you to pick him up. You grab him and he's barely balanced on you when you lift him higher. "Carry me properly!"
He gets dumped back into the pile.
The kimchi turns out to be too spicy. Changmin eats it anyway. Junsu pulls Jaejoong's hair. And Yoochun spends the night in bed with Midol.
//
And the leaves are red, orange and yellow again, falling through the air. It's extra windy and they get caught in what look like mini-tornados. They spin and spin and spin, stop and fall onto cold shiny metal. You think you can still hear his laughter in the howling wind, still see him laughing, mouth wide open. But those are the memories you've kept in the piles of red orange and yellow; what you're missing is the vermillion that was the sunset behind him, the amber that was his cooking, and the blonde that was his hair.
Now all you have is black. Black is the color of your suit, slate is the tombstone, and charcoal is the coffin. You told Yoochun not to cry, told him he shouldn't. But you can hear him from here, sniffling the loudest. Jaejoong wouldn't want it that way. Jaejoong would want to go out with a bang. You thought Yoochun would at least know that. No tears, just beers! rings through your head, and you can almost afford a laugh.
But black is definitely not your heart. You'll keep his reds, oranges, and yellows there.
for le
kelseypaige, because she bombards me with that one jaeho GIF i like and makes me write more bad!fic. evil child.
jaeho; G
516 words.
And you play in the autumn leaves, laugh and smiling while red, orange, and yellow fly through the air. Play, laugh, and smile. He pushes you into the pile you raked less than an hour ago, and he’s sweaty, laughing, shining against the clear autumn sun. He flops down next to you, making leaves fly into the air while doing so. The back of his hand lands on your stomach, hard. Ouch. He laughs again (like HA! HA! HA!, far too loud to be romantic), turning to you.
His hair is peeking from his beanie, wisps of dried blonde hair catching small bits of leaves. You pull them out, squeezing and pull strands between your fingers. The sun is setting behind him, making his hair look a warm orange instead of the pale blonde you've gotten yourself used to. That reminds you of Junsu a little, except Jaejoong is so different in every other way.
"You better not be thinking about some other man right now, Jung Yunho." His fingers are combing through you hair, catching the occasional tangled leaf.
"Never." And as much as you would like to stay there, the two of you are in t-shirts and jeans and it feels like it's approaching 45 degrees. That, and the children inside are yelling and making threats about using all of Jaejoong's shampoo if the two of you don't come in right now so Jaejoong could make dinner.
You get up and he's still lying there, staring at the print you left behind that looks nothing like a human.
"Jaejoong."
He reaches out a hand and waits for you to pick him up. You grab him and he's barely balanced on you when you lift him higher. "Carry me properly!"
He gets dumped back into the pile.
The kimchi turns out to be too spicy. Changmin eats it anyway. Junsu pulls Jaejoong's hair. And Yoochun spends the night in bed with Midol.
//
And the leaves are red, orange and yellow again, falling through the air. It's extra windy and they get caught in what look like mini-tornados. They spin and spin and spin, stop and fall onto cold shiny metal. You think you can still hear his laughter in the howling wind, still see him laughing, mouth wide open. But those are the memories you've kept in the piles of red orange and yellow; what you're missing is the vermillion that was the sunset behind him, the amber that was his cooking, and the blonde that was his hair.
Now all you have is black. Black is the color of your suit, slate is the tombstone, and charcoal is the coffin. You told Yoochun not to cry, told him he shouldn't. But you can hear him from here, sniffling the loudest. Jaejoong wouldn't want it that way. Jaejoong would want to go out with a bang. You thought Yoochun would at least know that. No tears, just beers! rings through your head, and you can almost afford a laugh.
But black is definitely not your heart. You'll keep his reds, oranges, and yellows there.
for le
kelseypaige, because she bombards me with that one jaeho GIF i like and makes me write more bad!fic. evil child.
