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dbsk_flashfic2013-12-19 11:01 am
countingcarbs.livejournal.com) wrote in dbsk_flashfic2013-12-19 11:01 am
Entry tags:
Envelope (Flashfic Challenge 200)
Title: Envelope
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
countingcarbs
Wordcount: 518
Concrit? Yes
Rating: PG
Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong
Summary: Forsnoworb. New beginnings.
The first one comes in February. Yunho is in his apartment, back from a long stint in Japan. He scans through small piles of screened credit offers, sorting through clippings from supermarts that scream “holiday savings!”. Then he sees it; the simple stationery a stark contrast in the pile. On the front, it reads “Jung Yunho” in bubbly hangul and that is it. No sender’s name, no return address. But Yunho already knows the script by heart, one so familiar it could be his own.
They haven’t spoken in three years, Yunho thinks. But this, this could be their start.
The letters are infrequent and sporadic. The first reads simply, “how are you?”, three words which make Yunho thinks of golden hair and a beautiful smile, warm jiggae cooking in the kitchen. Then he thinks, no good. No good at all. The next ones are short random musings, a scrawl about sitting in a park in shibuya on a good day or one written in a waiting room at an airport. they are short, random pieces of information that yunho knits together, piecing together a picture of a new life without him. The last one is an accusing you can’t shut me out forever. Yunho feels the words heavy and unspoken between them. The words Yunho wants to hear most, the I miss yous and the I’m sorries, they don't come. So Yunho sits, reads and doesn’t write back.
For six months, there is silence. Yunho stops counting the days after so he doesn’t find himself waiting, checking the mailbox every twenty minutes, and so he doesn’t have to face the heavy weight of disappointment when it is empty. In a blink of an eye, it is Christmas and Yunho goes home for the holidays, a crumpled, “how are you?” shoved guiltily beneath his woolen sweaters.
In the morning, he receives it. He tears it open, like a child eager for his present on Christmas day. The letter is blank, but scrawled haphazardly on the back are 9 numbers.
It takes all of Yunho’s effort and large amounts of liquid courage to dial the numbers. His fingers are weak and clumsy on the keyboard and it takes him six tries to get the right combination. The numbers blink insistently on his screen, he presses dial before he can talk himself out of it, his thumb hovering over the cancel button.
Two rings, Yunho is about to chicken out and hit cancel when--
“Yeoboseyo?” Jaejoong’s voice is hoarse and sleep-drunk.
Yunho swallows heavily, but the words get stuck in his throat. Jaejoong’s breath evens, as if he has jerked into full awareness.
“Yeoboseyo?” Jaejoong says again, something brittle creeping into his voice. Yunho knows he knows. He must.
A slow halting quiet, then, “Yunho?” Jaejoong whispers quietly, his voice breaking.
They remain silent, on opposite ends of the world, listening to the shallow sounds of each other breath.
In January, Yunho gets scheduled on a promotional tour in Tokyo. He takes the redeye, and flies through Incheon to Tokyo. At the airport, a security guard runs his coat through the scanning machine, hands it back to him and bows.
Yunho is unsurprised when later, he returns to his hotel room and finds a letter, stashed deep into one of the pockets. Prince Shibuya, it reads, 609. He shakes the envelope and out of it, falls a thin hotel card key.
Yunho slides the card into the door, the light blinks green, clicking as the lock unlatches. He pushes the door open, heart hammering in his chest, and sees Jaejoong. Jaejoong whole, and real, and there. Jaejoong stands, his hands twisted in his shirt, his face tentative. Their eyes meet and Jaejoong’s mouth parts, but no words come.
They watch each other for a moment, then Yunho carefully closes the door behind him, crosses the room in three steps and crushes Jaejoong’s body to his. Jaejoong buries his nose in Yunho's neck, fingers curling in Yunho's shirt, holding him close like he's afraid Yunho will disappear if he lets go.
"I'm sorry," Jaejoong says, "I'm so sorry--"
Yunho takes Jaejoong's face in his hands and kisses him. Jaejoong kisses back lips warm and desperate. They stand there for a while, holding each other, mouths entwined, and then Jaejoong starts to laugh, a happy, infectious sound that reverberates in his chest, and then Yunho has to pull away so he can catch his breath.
Almost three years have passed, misunderstandings, empty words and cold hesitant silences, but they are here now. Yunho thinks watching Jaejoong's smile light up the room, and that, that is really all that matters.
Author:
countingcarbsWordcount: 518
Concrit? Yes
Rating: PG
Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong
Summary: For
snoworb. New beginnings.The first one comes in February. Yunho is in his apartment, back from a long stint in Japan. He scans through small piles of screened credit offers, sorting through clippings from supermarts that scream “holiday savings!”. Then he sees it; the simple stationery a stark contrast in the pile. On the front, it reads “Jung Yunho” in bubbly hangul and that is it. No sender’s name, no return address. But Yunho already knows the script by heart, one so familiar it could be his own.
They haven’t spoken in three years, Yunho thinks. But this, this could be their start.
The letters are infrequent and sporadic. The first reads simply, “how are you?”, three words which make Yunho thinks of golden hair and a beautiful smile, warm jiggae cooking in the kitchen. Then he thinks, no good. No good at all. The next ones are short random musings, a scrawl about sitting in a park in shibuya on a good day or one written in a waiting room at an airport. they are short, random pieces of information that yunho knits together, piecing together a picture of a new life without him. The last one is an accusing you can’t shut me out forever. Yunho feels the words heavy and unspoken between them. The words Yunho wants to hear most, the I miss yous and the I’m sorries, they don't come. So Yunho sits, reads and doesn’t write back.
For six months, there is silence. Yunho stops counting the days after so he doesn’t find himself waiting, checking the mailbox every twenty minutes, and so he doesn’t have to face the heavy weight of disappointment when it is empty. In a blink of an eye, it is Christmas and Yunho goes home for the holidays, a crumpled, “how are you?” shoved guiltily beneath his woolen sweaters.
In the morning, he receives it. He tears it open, like a child eager for his present on Christmas day. The letter is blank, but scrawled haphazardly on the back are 9 numbers.
It takes all of Yunho’s effort and large amounts of liquid courage to dial the numbers. His fingers are weak and clumsy on the keyboard and it takes him six tries to get the right combination. The numbers blink insistently on his screen, he presses dial before he can talk himself out of it, his thumb hovering over the cancel button.
Two rings, Yunho is about to chicken out and hit cancel when--
“Yeoboseyo?” Jaejoong’s voice is hoarse and sleep-drunk.
Yunho swallows heavily, but the words get stuck in his throat. Jaejoong’s breath evens, as if he has jerked into full awareness.
“Yeoboseyo?” Jaejoong says again, something brittle creeping into his voice. Yunho knows he knows. He must.
A slow halting quiet, then, “Yunho?” Jaejoong whispers quietly, his voice breaking.
They remain silent, on opposite ends of the world, listening to the shallow sounds of each other breath.
In January, Yunho gets scheduled on a promotional tour in Tokyo. He takes the redeye, and flies through Incheon to Tokyo. At the airport, a security guard runs his coat through the scanning machine, hands it back to him and bows.
Yunho is unsurprised when later, he returns to his hotel room and finds a letter, stashed deep into one of the pockets. Prince Shibuya, it reads, 609. He shakes the envelope and out of it, falls a thin hotel card key.
Yunho slides the card into the door, the light blinks green, clicking as the lock unlatches. He pushes the door open, heart hammering in his chest, and sees Jaejoong. Jaejoong whole, and real, and there. Jaejoong stands, his hands twisted in his shirt, his face tentative. Their eyes meet and Jaejoong’s mouth parts, but no words come.
They watch each other for a moment, then Yunho carefully closes the door behind him, crosses the room in three steps and crushes Jaejoong’s body to his. Jaejoong buries his nose in Yunho's neck, fingers curling in Yunho's shirt, holding him close like he's afraid Yunho will disappear if he lets go.
"I'm sorry," Jaejoong says, "I'm so sorry--"
Yunho takes Jaejoong's face in his hands and kisses him. Jaejoong kisses back lips warm and desperate. They stand there for a while, holding each other, mouths entwined, and then Jaejoong starts to laugh, a happy, infectious sound that reverberates in his chest, and then Yunho has to pull away so he can catch his breath.
Almost three years have passed, misunderstandings, empty words and cold hesitant silences, but they are here now. Yunho thinks watching Jaejoong's smile light up the room, and that, that is really all that matters.
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