you never know where this music is gonna take you...
just did a little mini itunes meme to kick myself into actually writing something. only five songs, all pretty short, pairing yoosu. and they cut off cause i stopped writing when the song ended. really random, i know, but something is always better than nothing, right? ♥
cemetery drive - my chemical romance
junsu knows he’s crazy. he’s always known, known from the night it happened, known when he saw the bullet and the blood and heard the scream of sirens. the colors swam together, colors like red and blue that blurred into purple, purple like the way his veins looked right where it mattered the most. but it doesn’t stop him, doesn’t stop him from missing him, doesn’t stop him from hurting, from loving him.
love never dies, does it? just because he’s gone doesn’t mean junsu has to lose everything. he knows it when yoochun smiles at him, when they spend nights drinking and talking, sitting with backs against the cool stone of the mausoleum door, against the tug and pull of reality. It’s not
my girlfriend - yoochun
junsu knows he’s in for it when yoochun calls him back into his workroom, doesn’t respond and yet yoochun is just too excited this time, too determined. before junsu knows it arms are circling his waist, squeezing tight in excitement before finding his fingers, tugging and pulling and yoochun keeps begging, breathless with excitement and smiling in a way that makes junsu forget he’s mad at him for drinking the last of the milk this morning.
he’s led into a room that he knows far too well, settled comfortably into a chair while yoochun maneuvers around him, closing windows and opening new ones and adjusting speakers before finally hitting play. the melody is nice, sort of soothing and junsu’s always liked listening to the music that yoochun composes, used to the piano playing soft, sad melodies but this is nice too.
he isn’t ready for it when yoochun opens his mouth, starts singing, grinning so much that junsu can’t even tell if he’s serious or not, half of the words meaning nothing against his ears anyway, but he knows enough to pick up words like yeah and baby and love and he has the feeling that the way yoochun’s looking at him doesn’t have a lot to do with
if I fell - jason castro
junsu knows that yoochun wouldn’t hurt him. he knows, but still he isn’t sure, hesitates before crossing that line, isn’t sure what to do, what to say when he looks at him like that. when he touches him like that, fingers full of words unspoken between the two of them. just the way brian was, just the way he used to do. he doesn’t want to admit how similar the two are, not even to himself, doesn’t want to admit how painful it is even to think about.
junsu would love to love him. would love to get close to him, even though they’re less than perfect. even though he’s just a bank teller and yoochun’s just a tattoo artist and he has trouble paying the rent sometimes and laughs too loudly and doesn’t like it if his food is close enough to touch on the plate. it seems like this kind of imperfection is what he’s been waiting for, seems like maybe
crush - mandy moore
every time park yoochun looks at him, kim junsu feels like his heart is going to explode out of his chest. something as simple as a smile, as a good morning or how are you or did you do the homework is enough to brighten his day, enough to make him forget how to speak properly. and he doesn’t mind, not really anyways. doesn’t mind because every time he says the wrong things, every time he stutters and blushes and laughs nervously yoochun smiles.
it’s wrong, and he knows it is. It’s wrong and it’s not okay, especially since yoochun likes her. he talks about her so much, always looks at her, twists her hair around his finger and junsu tries to pretend he’s not staring, not breaking just a little bit more every day, not crying whenever he finds out that they’re going to the spring dance together.
it’s enough, isn’t it? enough to see that smile, enough for a brush of fingers when he hands him notes or a dropped pencil or accidentally runs into him in the hallways and drops all his books all over the smooth tile floor. enough when
i hate everything about you - three days grace
nothing about park yoochun is appealing to kim junsu. nothing. every time he speaks, he curses. he tastes like sex and alcohol, reeks of sin, and never says anything after sex. junsu can’t stand it. he can’t stand the way he walks, the way he lives, the way he fucking smirks at him across the room even though nobody’s supposed to know about this.
no, nothing about this is appealing. not to someone like junsu, someone who’s so respected, so wanted, so needed. he hates him, hates him so much. Hates the way he gets under his skin, hates the way he calls at three in the morning and the way that he claws into his skin, the way that he makes him bleed and it’s never enough. nothing could ever be enough for
cemetery drive - my chemical romance
junsu knows he’s crazy. he’s always known, known from the night it happened, known when he saw the bullet and the blood and heard the scream of sirens. the colors swam together, colors like red and blue that blurred into purple, purple like the way his veins looked right where it mattered the most. but it doesn’t stop him, doesn’t stop him from missing him, doesn’t stop him from hurting, from loving him.
love never dies, does it? just because he’s gone doesn’t mean junsu has to lose everything. he knows it when yoochun smiles at him, when they spend nights drinking and talking, sitting with backs against the cool stone of the mausoleum door, against the tug and pull of reality. It’s not
my girlfriend - yoochun
junsu knows he’s in for it when yoochun calls him back into his workroom, doesn’t respond and yet yoochun is just too excited this time, too determined. before junsu knows it arms are circling his waist, squeezing tight in excitement before finding his fingers, tugging and pulling and yoochun keeps begging, breathless with excitement and smiling in a way that makes junsu forget he’s mad at him for drinking the last of the milk this morning.
he’s led into a room that he knows far too well, settled comfortably into a chair while yoochun maneuvers around him, closing windows and opening new ones and adjusting speakers before finally hitting play. the melody is nice, sort of soothing and junsu’s always liked listening to the music that yoochun composes, used to the piano playing soft, sad melodies but this is nice too.
he isn’t ready for it when yoochun opens his mouth, starts singing, grinning so much that junsu can’t even tell if he’s serious or not, half of the words meaning nothing against his ears anyway, but he knows enough to pick up words like yeah and baby and love and he has the feeling that the way yoochun’s looking at him doesn’t have a lot to do with
if I fell - jason castro
junsu knows that yoochun wouldn’t hurt him. he knows, but still he isn’t sure, hesitates before crossing that line, isn’t sure what to do, what to say when he looks at him like that. when he touches him like that, fingers full of words unspoken between the two of them. just the way brian was, just the way he used to do. he doesn’t want to admit how similar the two are, not even to himself, doesn’t want to admit how painful it is even to think about.
junsu would love to love him. would love to get close to him, even though they’re less than perfect. even though he’s just a bank teller and yoochun’s just a tattoo artist and he has trouble paying the rent sometimes and laughs too loudly and doesn’t like it if his food is close enough to touch on the plate. it seems like this kind of imperfection is what he’s been waiting for, seems like maybe
crush - mandy moore
every time park yoochun looks at him, kim junsu feels like his heart is going to explode out of his chest. something as simple as a smile, as a good morning or how are you or did you do the homework is enough to brighten his day, enough to make him forget how to speak properly. and he doesn’t mind, not really anyways. doesn’t mind because every time he says the wrong things, every time he stutters and blushes and laughs nervously yoochun smiles.
it’s wrong, and he knows it is. It’s wrong and it’s not okay, especially since yoochun likes her. he talks about her so much, always looks at her, twists her hair around his finger and junsu tries to pretend he’s not staring, not breaking just a little bit more every day, not crying whenever he finds out that they’re going to the spring dance together.
it’s enough, isn’t it? enough to see that smile, enough for a brush of fingers when he hands him notes or a dropped pencil or accidentally runs into him in the hallways and drops all his books all over the smooth tile floor. enough when
i hate everything about you - three days grace
nothing about park yoochun is appealing to kim junsu. nothing. every time he speaks, he curses. he tastes like sex and alcohol, reeks of sin, and never says anything after sex. junsu can’t stand it. he can’t stand the way he walks, the way he lives, the way he fucking smirks at him across the room even though nobody’s supposed to know about this.
no, nothing about this is appealing. not to someone like junsu, someone who’s so respected, so wanted, so needed. he hates him, hates him so much. Hates the way he gets under his skin, hates the way he calls at three in the morning and the way that he claws into his skin, the way that he makes him bleed and it’s never enough. nothing could ever be enough for