![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
twhitesakura.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
dbsk_flashficTitle: Natures Of A Lesser Deed
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
twhitesakura
Wordcount: 550
Concrit? Yes
Rating: PG
Summary: Jaejoong gets smashed at a karaoke bar.
He’s drunk enough to actually make the room wobble. Even so, Jaejoong squints, trying to make the glass on the table stop vibrating, sticking out his tongue in the gravest of concentrations. The brandy from his decanter wavers as he pours, golden liquid spilling into his cup and on his table, over his fingers. Cold. The walls of the karaoke room pulsate, thrumming bass tones. The group next door is careening through KARA and Big Bang lyrics. A teenager with the high falsetto of puberty breaks into a new song. Jaejoong blinks and for a moment thinks Changmin’s nearby, screaming his soliloquy in “O.” The alcohol runs over his glass and begins to drip to the floor.
“Here you go!”
The door to Jaejoong’s room bangs opens intrusively and Jaejoong jerks up, shoulders back in instinctive fright. The bar hostess is gesturing an unwelcomed crowd in. A group that Jaejoong doesn’t know, except Yoochunie’s in the back. They haven’t seen each other since Yoochun started filming for his period drama. The men around him are all actors with names that Jaejoong can’t recall right now. Jaejoong relaxes, but not enough.
“Oh, hyung.”
By Yoochun’s surprised look, he didn’t expect Jaejoong to be here either.
Jaejoong stands, sways and glares at the hostess.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
The woman colors.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought…I’ll get them another room!”
Jaejoong grabs his coat from the sofa and struggles to pull it on.
“Forget it, I’m leaving.”
He shoulders past the men, past Yoochun, and out the building. Yoochun doesn’t call him back. The falling rain outside is a cool mother’s hand over her feverish child’s brow. It brings relief to Jaejoong and smoothes his irritation, sobers him up a little, even though he finds himself going around the block instead of towards home. There’s a little alleyway here and underneath a fire escape, Jaejoong huddles down and does his best to stay dry against the downpour. He pushes his hands into the worn pockets of his jacket, encounters the smooth edged metal of his cell phone.
He pulls it out and pushes speed dial.
“I’m drunk,” Jaejoong says when the number goes straight to voice mail. He gives his district, where he is, the name of the bar he went to, describes the alleyway in minute detail, down to how the holes in the red brick of the wall he’s leaning against look like strange putrid innards. He tells the man he drank six and a half bottles of soju and how long it took him to drink down each one. He tells him what the proof was. He tells him there were people next door singing songs, their songs.
The name on Jaejoong’s speed dial is “My Lovely Yunho” and the man who it belongs to hasn’t replied in ten months. After a while, Jaejoong runs out of things to say and reluctantly ends his call. The down of his jacket keeps his body warmth, lets it grow, and after a while, the rain is a lullaby against the hood of his coat, drumming a missed lover’s heartbeat calmly against his ears.
Jaejoong has wandered to the misty edges of sleep when a shadow falls over him. The last thing he recalls is warm arms lifting carefully, gingerly, finally. Safe.
Author:
twhitesakuraWordcount: 550
Concrit? Yes
Rating: PG
Summary: Jaejoong gets smashed at a karaoke bar.
He’s drunk enough to actually make the room wobble. Even so, Jaejoong squints, trying to make the glass on the table stop vibrating, sticking out his tongue in the gravest of concentrations. The brandy from his decanter wavers as he pours, golden liquid spilling into his cup and on his table, over his fingers. Cold. The walls of the karaoke room pulsate, thrumming bass tones. The group next door is careening through KARA and Big Bang lyrics. A teenager with the high falsetto of puberty breaks into a new song. Jaejoong blinks and for a moment thinks Changmin’s nearby, screaming his soliloquy in “O.” The alcohol runs over his glass and begins to drip to the floor.
“Here you go!”
The door to Jaejoong’s room bangs opens intrusively and Jaejoong jerks up, shoulders back in instinctive fright. The bar hostess is gesturing an unwelcomed crowd in. A group that Jaejoong doesn’t know, except Yoochunie’s in the back. They haven’t seen each other since Yoochun started filming for his period drama. The men around him are all actors with names that Jaejoong can’t recall right now. Jaejoong relaxes, but not enough.
“Oh, hyung.”
By Yoochun’s surprised look, he didn’t expect Jaejoong to be here either.
Jaejoong stands, sways and glares at the hostess.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
The woman colors.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought…I’ll get them another room!”
Jaejoong grabs his coat from the sofa and struggles to pull it on.
“Forget it, I’m leaving.”
He shoulders past the men, past Yoochun, and out the building. Yoochun doesn’t call him back. The falling rain outside is a cool mother’s hand over her feverish child’s brow. It brings relief to Jaejoong and smoothes his irritation, sobers him up a little, even though he finds himself going around the block instead of towards home. There’s a little alleyway here and underneath a fire escape, Jaejoong huddles down and does his best to stay dry against the downpour. He pushes his hands into the worn pockets of his jacket, encounters the smooth edged metal of his cell phone.
He pulls it out and pushes speed dial.
“I’m drunk,” Jaejoong says when the number goes straight to voice mail. He gives his district, where he is, the name of the bar he went to, describes the alleyway in minute detail, down to how the holes in the red brick of the wall he’s leaning against look like strange putrid innards. He tells the man he drank six and a half bottles of soju and how long it took him to drink down each one. He tells him what the proof was. He tells him there were people next door singing songs, their songs.
The name on Jaejoong’s speed dial is “My Lovely Yunho” and the man who it belongs to hasn’t replied in ten months. After a while, Jaejoong runs out of things to say and reluctantly ends his call. The down of his jacket keeps his body warmth, lets it grow, and after a while, the rain is a lullaby against the hood of his coat, drumming a missed lover’s heartbeat calmly against his ears.
Jaejoong has wandered to the misty edges of sleep when a shadow falls over him. The last thing he recalls is warm arms lifting carefully, gingerly, finally. Safe.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-11-20 04:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-21 04:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-20 05:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-21 04:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-21 04:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-21 04:47 pm (UTC)Thanks as always for reading and keeping this comm ship-shape. ♥
no subject
Date: 2011-11-22 02:54 pm (UTC)I really love canon-ish fics, despite how heartbreaking they usually are. This one broke my heart as well.
“I’m drunk,” Jaejoong says when the number goes straight to voice mail.
The name on Jaejoong’s speed dial is “My Lovely Yunho” and the man who it belongs to hasn’t replied in ten months.
The last thing he recalls is warm arms lifting carefully, gingerly, finally.
I just love how you piece your words together and make everything so simple and beautiful.
Thank you for this (:
no subject
Date: 2011-11-23 02:05 am (UTC)