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dbsk_flashfic2012-01-08 07:02 pm
dentedsky.livejournal.com) wrote in dbsk_flashfic2012-01-08 07:02 pm
Entry tags:
Shared Melody (Fic Exchange: for twhitesakura)
Title: Shared Melody
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dentedsky
Recipient:twhitesakura
Word count: 685
Characters: Yunho, Changmin, Jaejoong
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Optional details included: Living habits of Yunho and Changmin who share a dorm and Jaejoong teaching Changmin to cook.
Yunho is in the shower when Changmin awakes. His neck is stiff from his awkward sleep on the couch. He’s aware that they had slept there together with Yunho’s head pillowed in Changmin’s lap.
It’s the intimate moments between men; secrets kept in mental shoe boxes and hidden away from seeking eyes.
Changmin hates taking a shower after Yunho because Yunho sometimes leaves the toothpaste in the shower and he always has to retrieve it. As soon as his socks get wet on tiles with now-cold water he lets out a soft aish and continues with his morning ritual –
And he always, always forgets that Yunho takes colder showers –
In the kitchen, Yunho takes a bite of his breakfast. The scream from the bathroom causes him to pause. A moment later he shrugs and continues to chew.
Twenty minutes later and they’re due to leave. Their driver is on his way with the van. At the door Yunho tilts his head to the side and his eyes ask, Are you ready to go?
Changmin puffs out his cheeks and glances quickly around. He purses his lips thoughtfully and nods; his expression says, Yes, I think so.
They make beautiful music during the day, their mornings are an instrumental cacophony of habits and routine and their evenings are sometimes spent at home where Changmin attempts to cook dinner. If Jaejoong were here –
Changmin squints into the pot and wonders if he should’ve put the meat in before the pasta for this dish. He’s tried spaghetti carbonara so many times and yet he can’t quite get it right just like he can’t quite remember what Jaejoong had taught him, those few years ago. He can remember the soft, raspy lilt of Jaejoong’s voice and the way his hands had wielded the wooden spoon as he’d carefully stirred the pot with finesse. His fringe would always fall into his eyes as he bent over the stove and Changmin’s fingers would twitch with the desire to gently push that fringe away.
He never did though. It was much easier to punch him on the arm with a demand for him to pin it back.
(Sometimes Changmin thinks Yunho is so beautiful he can barely stand to look at him. If looking at Yunho is like staring at the sun then thinking of Jaejoong is like the black spots after: memories blotted with tiny black pinpricks as time goes on.)
As Changmin’s serving dinner he thinks about all the little things he should have done differently and that this dish is subpar - then suddenly he wants to take it back – but then it’s already on the table and Yunho is already ready to eat.
Yunho picks up his fork and glances up at Changmin with eyes that say, Can I start now?
Go ahead, Changmin gestures with a lazy wave of his hand as he lowers himself into his own seat.
Yunho wolfs down two whole forkfuls before Changmin has a chance to pick up his own utensils, and Yunho makes a noise of appreciation in the back of his throat. He swallows and throws Changmin a satisfied look: This is delicious!
Changmin twists his lips into a half-smile before it fades. I’m grateful, it says, but I don’t think I did a very good job -
His depreciative thoughts jump away, because now Yunho’s expression is saying something else entirely. He’s blinking and frowning down at his meal.
I’m not allowed to eat carbohydrates this late at night, says Yunho soundlessly.
Changmin glances down at his own dinner and back. I don’t want to eat without you, Changmin replies. He fingers his fork hesitantly.
Yunho’s eyes widen. You’re supposed to be putting on weight. He throws Changmin an encouraging smile and stands up get something fat free for dinner. He gives Changmin one last glance, raising his eyebrows. Eat.
Changmin does. It tastes quite good, but –
He glances at Yunho who’s bent down, looking into the fridge –
Thinks about their shared melody –
Needs refinement, he thinks, but this time Yunho doesn’t catch his thoughts.
Yunho probably already knows anyway.
--End
Author:
dentedskyRecipient:
twhitesakuraWord count: 685
Characters: Yunho, Changmin, Jaejoong
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Optional details included: Living habits of Yunho and Changmin who share a dorm and Jaejoong teaching Changmin to cook.
Yunho is in the shower when Changmin awakes. His neck is stiff from his awkward sleep on the couch. He’s aware that they had slept there together with Yunho’s head pillowed in Changmin’s lap.
It’s the intimate moments between men; secrets kept in mental shoe boxes and hidden away from seeking eyes.
Changmin hates taking a shower after Yunho because Yunho sometimes leaves the toothpaste in the shower and he always has to retrieve it. As soon as his socks get wet on tiles with now-cold water he lets out a soft aish and continues with his morning ritual –
And he always, always forgets that Yunho takes colder showers –
In the kitchen, Yunho takes a bite of his breakfast. The scream from the bathroom causes him to pause. A moment later he shrugs and continues to chew.
Twenty minutes later and they’re due to leave. Their driver is on his way with the van. At the door Yunho tilts his head to the side and his eyes ask, Are you ready to go?
Changmin puffs out his cheeks and glances quickly around. He purses his lips thoughtfully and nods; his expression says, Yes, I think so.
They make beautiful music during the day, their mornings are an instrumental cacophony of habits and routine and their evenings are sometimes spent at home where Changmin attempts to cook dinner. If Jaejoong were here –
Changmin squints into the pot and wonders if he should’ve put the meat in before the pasta for this dish. He’s tried spaghetti carbonara so many times and yet he can’t quite get it right just like he can’t quite remember what Jaejoong had taught him, those few years ago. He can remember the soft, raspy lilt of Jaejoong’s voice and the way his hands had wielded the wooden spoon as he’d carefully stirred the pot with finesse. His fringe would always fall into his eyes as he bent over the stove and Changmin’s fingers would twitch with the desire to gently push that fringe away.
He never did though. It was much easier to punch him on the arm with a demand for him to pin it back.
(Sometimes Changmin thinks Yunho is so beautiful he can barely stand to look at him. If looking at Yunho is like staring at the sun then thinking of Jaejoong is like the black spots after: memories blotted with tiny black pinpricks as time goes on.)
As Changmin’s serving dinner he thinks about all the little things he should have done differently and that this dish is subpar - then suddenly he wants to take it back – but then it’s already on the table and Yunho is already ready to eat.
Yunho picks up his fork and glances up at Changmin with eyes that say, Can I start now?
Go ahead, Changmin gestures with a lazy wave of his hand as he lowers himself into his own seat.
Yunho wolfs down two whole forkfuls before Changmin has a chance to pick up his own utensils, and Yunho makes a noise of appreciation in the back of his throat. He swallows and throws Changmin a satisfied look: This is delicious!
Changmin twists his lips into a half-smile before it fades. I’m grateful, it says, but I don’t think I did a very good job -
His depreciative thoughts jump away, because now Yunho’s expression is saying something else entirely. He’s blinking and frowning down at his meal.
I’m not allowed to eat carbohydrates this late at night, says Yunho soundlessly.
Changmin glances down at his own dinner and back. I don’t want to eat without you, Changmin replies. He fingers his fork hesitantly.
Yunho’s eyes widen. You’re supposed to be putting on weight. He throws Changmin an encouraging smile and stands up get something fat free for dinner. He gives Changmin one last glance, raising his eyebrows. Eat.
Changmin does. It tastes quite good, but –
He glances at Yunho who’s bent down, looking into the fridge –
Thinks about their shared melody –
Needs refinement, he thinks, but this time Yunho doesn’t catch his thoughts.
Yunho probably already knows anyway.
--End
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