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katrinawritesthings · 2 years ago

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Jonghyun/Taemin; just chillin; PG

You ever just be hanging out writing a song with your babe

Also for @rollercoasterwrite and @summerofshinee jjongsmonth last month : )

Jonghyun feels like he's reaching the point of listening to two different versions of the same 10 second clip of a song that he can barely tell the difference between them anymore. He sighs heavily through his lower lip, feeling the air fluttering his bangs, and tries to get himself to focus. Just on this last one thing and then he can take a break. He plays the version with the chimes in the background and then the one without. Chimes or not. Chimes or not.

He needs a distraction. He needs–

A knock on his office door. Jonghyun pulls his headphones off of one ear, surprised. He glances at the clock and is even more surprised when he sees the time. It's already 6. No wonder he's so out of focus. The last time he checked it was barely past noon.

"Yeah," he calls, and then Taemin is there, black hair poking out of his beanie and just barely falling into his eyes. His cheeks are flushed pink from cold and he doesn't so much as wave with his hand as much as a fist balled up inside of his sweater. Just looking at him has Jonghyun smiling. "Welcome home," he says, turning more in his spinny chair. "How was work?" he asks.

"It sure was," Taemin says, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. "I brought you food." He holds up a fast food bag, opening it and taking out a carton of chicken nuggies for himself before handing it over. "I texted asking if you wanted anything like 3 hours ago and you didn't reply so I figured you were in here forgetting that you had human needs."

"Correct," Jonghyun says, reaching out eagerly for his food. He gets a burger and fries and even more nuggies. Nice.

"Are you busy?" Taemin asks as he pulls out his burger to unwrap it. Jonghyun glances at his food, at his computer with all of the song editing software still up.

"Yeah," he says. Taemin's face falls; it's just a small thing, almost imperceptible except how Jonghyun would recognize it from him in a heartbeat. It's the lowering of his eyelids just a twitch, the shift from his neutral resting face to something with a tiny bit more lower lip. Jonghyun smiles and asks, "why?"

Taemin taps his toe on the ground, fiddles with the collar of his sweater.

"Is your lap busy?" he asks.

And that alone is enough to make Jonghyun's heart melt.

He puts his food on his desk so he can turn fully in his chair and hold his arms open.

"Too busy for you?" he asks, smiling from his heart. "Never." And now Taemin smiles back, stepping forward with his arms out. He sits down on top of Jonghyun's thighs, sitting himself perfectly into the chair with him on the first try. His arms go around Jonghyun's shoulders and his face nuzzles into Jonghyun's neck. As soon as it does, Jonghyun jumps, hissing at the contact of Taemin's skin against his.

"You're so cold," he pouts, trying not to pull away as Taemin's cold nose drags goosebumps to his skin. Taemin presses more of his face against him, smile printed against his skin.

"Someone let me play with their puppies on the walk back from the bus stop," he says. Jonghyun gasps softly. Lucky. He's jealous.

Taemin's right hand slides around to his front. He rubs up against Jonghyun's stomach through his sweater, and then slides it down to his thigh, and then brings it back up to the hem of his sweater. Jonghyun realizes what he's going for just in time and gets his own hand down there quick as lightning to wrap around Taemin's wrist.

"Do not," he says sternly, squeezing and tugging Taemin's hand away when he still feels his grubby cold little fingertips trying to find a way under the sweater.

Taemin laughs into his neck, his most obnoxious gremlin laugh, little heh heh heh hehs, but he also puts his arm back around Jonghyun's shoulders. Jonghyun hears him rustling around with his chicken nuggie box back there, and then eating noises directly behind his ear. He guesses it’s food time, then. He picks up his half unwrapped burger eagerly and gets to work.

Two-thirds of his burger and a couple of nuggies in, he feels like he is sufficiently rejuvenated and distracted enough to get back to work with a clearer focus. He puts his headphones back on over his ear and hits play on the clip he's been trying to figure out.

Another nuggie later he realizes that he just has the same problem but now in HD. Sighing, he rolls his eyes and takes off his headphones. He puts them on Taemin instead, popping them onto his head and adjusting them over his ears.

"Tell me what you think about this," he says, and plays the clip without the chimes.

"Um," Taemin says, mouth full of nuggie."It's nice. I like it."

"Okay, and, what about this?" Jonghyun asks, playing the one with the chimes.

"Better," Taemin says decisively. "The other one feels kind of empty compared to it. This one feels smoother. I like it."

"Okie dokie then," Jonghyun smiles. That's Taemin's opinion and that's what it's always going to be. He grabs the file without the chimes and removes it from the project. Taking his headphones back for himself, he continues editing with his left hand and eating with his right.

It's regular enough work–rearranging, mixing, testing what sounds good and what doesn't–that he doesn't have a problem multitasking. Every now and again he gives Taemin his headphones and asks for his opinion again, and every time Taemin gives him a short, honest answer that clears up any indecision he's been having. It always is nice to have an extra pair of ears around while he's editing.

After a while, there are more nuggie box noises and then one big, sharp movement from Taemin. Then a beat of silence, and then the sound of a little cardboard box bouncing off of the rim of the garbage can and clattering across the floor. Grinning, Jonghyun hums, "mmm, did you make it?”

"Yeah, totally," Taemin replies, grin just as obvious in his tone.

"Good job," Jonghyun praises, patting his back a little bit.

"Thanks." Half of the word is taken over by a yawn, which is then turned into Jonghyun's neck. It gets him all warm and moist, but he doesn't see how he can complain when Taemin rubs his cheek into it next. Taemin's arms slide down, too, under Jonghyun's and around his waist. His hands are still cold. Jonghyun can feel their chill through the back of his sweater. Taemin flattens them out, pressing them between Jonghyun's back and the chair.

Jonghyun leans back just a little bit. Just enough to press them a little more firmly into his chair. Just so they warm up that little tiny bit faster.

#jongtae #jonghyun #taemin #pg #fluff #oneshot #ydw #: )

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jinkisbelly · 5 years ago

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Jjongsmonth 2020

@rollercoasterwrite is doing jjongsmonth again, and for this year I just decided to write sequels for the fics I wrote the first time around.

Day 1 - 2:34

Day 2 - Aurora

Day 3 - Cocktail

Day 4 - Beautiful Tonight

Day 5 - White T-shirt

Day 6 - Red

#jjongsmonth #jongyu #jonghyun #my fic #onho #jongkey

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quagmireisadora · 5 years ago

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Hello♥️ can I request prompt 31 with jongyu? Thank you♥️

A/N: writing this helped my mood so, thank you ♥️

——

Jinki shifts the bag on his shoulder. The train isn’t here yet, but in a few minutes he will be aboard it. In a few minutes, it will whisk him away from here and. And Jonghyun will stay behind.

He looks to the other and smiles, hoping it can erase everything that has happened between them. Hoping his smile is bright and happy enough that they no longer have to return to last night, to hurried breath and graceless confession and fumbling hands reaching for purchase. He smiles, checks his watch, and hopes that the train isn’t late.

The sun burns orange, its sphere nearly disappeared on the horizon. The sky is about to close its red eye and go to sleep. Jonghyun turns towards it and his eyes become liquid flames, his dripping tears are molten fire. He sniffles and shifts in place even as Jinki maintains his polite smile.

“Have a safe journey,” a quiet murmur advises. “Don’t eat too many snacks. Don’t… don’t fall asleep or you’ll miss your station. Don’t be–” Jonghyun blinks, wipes at his face with his wrists. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine. Just… do well at the new job.” He lowers his gaze to his feet. “Don’t live in a cold house. And don’t buy unnecessary things, you’ll just waste all you money and then–”

“Jjong ah,” Jinki hushes, then reaches out to squeeze the other’s shoulder. “I’ll miss you.”

The action makes Jonghyun sob even harder, but he continues his long string of advice. “D-don’t drink too much. You get carelesss when you drink too much. And… and don’t eat too much spicy food, it’ll give you trouble, you know that,” he sniffles against his sleeve, and in a minute he’ll be crouching in place from the force of his tears.

The train pulls into the station, and the recorded announcement calls for passengers to board it in an orderly fashion. Jinki keeps his now faltering smile on. But nothing is orderly about this, nothing is neat or methodical. Nothing is the way he had imagined it to be. This isn’t how he’d wanted to part. This is isn’t how he wanted to feel in this moment. This isn’t what he wanted to hear or what he wanted to think or what he wanted to say. Nothing is going according to plan and everything he thought he had a hold on is slowly crumbling under his grip. Everything is falling apart.

“Jjong ah,” he moves closer for a last hug, and Jonghyun leaps into his arms, crying louder, shaking harder, refusing more adamantly.

“Don’t go, please, hyung. Please don’t go, I’ll–” he begins imploring when a pair of soft lips cover his beseeching ones mid-plea.

이제는 난 웃을 수 있어

------

I’m taking kissy prompts from this list! Send me one with your fave pairing~

#jongyu #drabble #shinee #jjongsmonth #jjongyyu #sorry this is so late but things have been happening

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jongyu · 5 years ago

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Edelweiss

Pairing: Jinki/Jonghyun

Rating:pg-13

Note: mpreg implied

641 words | ao3 link

“Hey Jinki, what do you think about having a baby now?”

Jinki took his eyes off the arrow he was sharpening then answered “We can’t have it, you know that Jonghyun.”

“A-Actually…” Jonghyun began “when I was cleaning our storage room, I found a notebook my grandma gave me when she’s still alive.”

Jinki raised an eyebrow, the way Jonghyun spoke with sudden involuntary pause intrigued him.

“You know that my grandmother was a reputable mage at her time right?”

Jinki nodded.

“She used her power to help infertile couples to overcome their problems.” Jonghyun twisted his fingers into his robe, clearly trying to overrode his thought if Jinki considered him crazy.

His partner regarded him for a second then sighed “But we are not infertile jjong, we’re just—”

“I know, but I’m a mage and there’s something I can do but others can’t.” Jonghyun said stubbornly.

ㅎㅎㅎ

“Do you want a daughter or son?”

A cough “Ex…” then a cough “ …cuse me?” more cough.

Jonghyun rolled his eyes, he would find Jinki’s perplexity endearing at any other moment but this time.

“If you ask me, I would like to have a daughter.” Jonghyun said, smiling sweetly at him.

Jonghyun looked adorable, and Jinki didn’t have a heart to be a jerk. So he just went with whatever Jonghyun had in mind.

“Daughter then?” Jinki then said.

Jonghyun’s smile was the brightest that day, his candy eyes warmed Jinki’s heart pleasantly.

ㅎㅎㅎ

“Jinki!!!” Jinki groaned as he was woken up from his peaceful nap on a comfortable hammock that was hanging up between the biggest trees in their backyard.

“If we want to have a daughter, the book said we need edelweiss flowers as the main ingredient.”

“Edel what???”

Edelweiss was a rare flower, it usually grew in limestone soil in mountain landscapes, on steep blue grass slopes and hills. There’s no way Jinki could pick it for him without getting hurt.

“It’s the special substance for the daughter-making potion.” Jonghyun explained.

“But…” Jinki sighed “…alright, I will get it for you.”

Jonghyun shouted happily then jumped on him, made them both turn upside down and knocked the wind out of his chest.

ㅎㅎㅎ

Jonghyun was enjoying his afternoon tea. He knew Jinki won’t come home before midnight, as the nearest mountain he said he’d go to was a dozen miles away from their house. Jinki had gone since before sunrise, he said he’d go with Minho, the head of an amicable family they both ever met.

Minho and Gwiboon too were still waiting to be given an offspring by The Gods. Jonghyun made a mental note to make one concoction for them.

ㅎㅎㅎ

Jonghyun had just woken up when Jinki came, bringing in the flowers he asked for.

Jonghyun smiled when Jinki’s lips touched his tenderly.

“You did it” Jonghyun whispered “thank you.”

“You don’t have to, cause I wanted it too.”

Jonghyun sat up and kissed his cheek. “You can sleep now, I will start making the potion.” Jonghyun stood up but a hand in his middle prevented him from moving away from the bed.

“Did you forget? Other than sex, cuddles help me fall asleep quickly.” Jinki reminded him, his smirks couldn’t hide the tiredness from his face. Jonghyun chuckled and let himself be pulled onto the bed once again.

ㅎㅎㅎ

“Jonghyun?”

“Yes?”

“Why do we need edelweiss for that daughter-making potion?” Jinki asked, finally his curiosity got the best of him.

“Because, if someday you have a daughter. You have to protect her at all cost. Even with your life, as when you did when you get the flowers.”

“Interesting,” Jinki hummed, “and what special ingredient do we need if we want to make son-making potion though?”

“Uhm?” Jonghyun looked up from his notebook “there’s no special ingredient for that.”

“What???” Jinki shrieked

Jonghyun winked “Our love is enough” he said suggestively.

#jjongsmonth #jongyu #onjong #onhyun #jinki #jonghyun

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norepangproject · 5 years ago

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#1 Jonghyun and the art of storytelling

I waited a very long time before starting The Norepang Project. The main reason for my delay was that I wanted to begin writing about the perfect topic. Unfortunately, I simply couldn't figure out such a theme could be. And then, suddenly, came Spring. April is a special time of the year for me and thousands of other K-Pop stans in the world. This is the moment when we can cheerfully remember and honor one of the most talented and creative artists this industry ever had. This month is not about feeling blue or melancholic, it is about caring and cherishing his work, the other Shinee members, our fellow Shawols and our own love for him.

So, even though the 8th of April has come and gone, I decided to begin the TNP by digging in every single Jonghyun solo album. I am not talking about discussing his title tracks or B-Sides. What I intend to do is to read every single one of them as a book. Better, as a story. A story, Jonghyun, the poet, is telling us.

Our journey begins with Base*. Like most of Jjong's tales, this is one about love. But it may just be a little more poetic and less obvious than it appears at first sight. A man meets a woman, and he is rather taken aback by how attracted by her he is. Moreover, the temptation she presents is so strong that, even though she doesn't appear to correspond to his feelings, at least not on a deep emotional level, he can't help himself but pursue her. Or yet, as he seems to believe at the time, to fall into her trap. Truthfully, part of the reason why he likes her so much is that their feelings for each are unbalanced. He knows it. He enjoys it. He isn't blaming or shaming her for it, unlike his friends.

"They tell me not to get close to you, even your attractive eyes

“See, she targeted him again”

They say I’ll get hurt if I give her all my heart

The funny thing is, the pathetic thing is

Even when you’re being cunning

You’re so attractive, it’s so fatal"

- Crazy (Guilty Pleasure)

Because his desire is too big to contain, he runs after her. During this chase, his admiration for her grows deeper and deeper.

You give me greater

feelings than awe (feel so good)

You make me sing as if I’m praying

Singing hallelujah,

you got me singing hallelujah

The day I saw you for the first time

I probably used up all the luck in my life

But it’s worth it. You’re amazing, what to do with you?

-Hallelujah

And their time together is bright and sweet. It's a darling night under the moonlight. These are moments he keeps coming back to during the day, they are the source of his newfound joy.

Let’s get up now, why is it so sad?

We’ve been saying the same things for the past 30 minutes

I can’t hold your hand,

let go of your hand or hug you

So I’m only looking at your pretty eyes,

nose and red cheeks and lips

- Beautiful Tonight

But something is strange though. It is as if, under the stars' gaze, he is finally able to unravel her true self. A person she constantly tries to hide from the outside world with a cold mask. But this truer self is even brighter, is neon. She opens up a whole new set of colors for him to paint his life with.

"Don’t try to hide, I’m scared of your cold eyes

I saw the light that is you, who can’t be caught

Don’t let go of my hand

When morning comes,

when I meet someone, I feel it

The color of the world without you is boring

Even without lights, you shine even brighter

Even without lights, you shine brighter than anyone else

Show me today, show me your real face

She is a NEON, shine your light"

- Neon

However, simultaneously, he begins to be burdened by his circumstances. It's a paradoxical sensation: he enjoys their push-and-pull dynamic, the "danger" inherent to it, he can't even imagine being without her... but he seems frustrated.

"I knew I would get hurt if I touched you but I denied it

And I squeeze you even tighter

Both sides of the blade dig into me

I try to cut you out but I can take this much

I’m already disinfecting my weakened min with alcohol

Because the sin is so much sweeter than its consequences

It was already too late to stop

I’m falling deeper"

- Crazy (Guilty Pleasure)

And is due to this emotional unease felt by the narrator, that we reach the climax of the tale. These lovers to-be have a dialog. A dissonant duet, so intimate that it resonates like whispers in our ears. Love Belt is about two people opening up about their fears concerning love and a relationship. On one hand, they are scared together: about the external judgment, about the intensity and speed of these feelings. They wish to hold tight and protect one another. On the other hand, each one of them has their own concerns. This why here we are able to listen to two different voices. He is desperate and anxious: the yearning to fulfill his desires, the terrible sensation that she might slip through his fingers. She is fearful and insecure: about diving into the unknown (the dark night, the deep sea...), about the intensity of his sentiments.

"When you’re feeling frustrated

And want to get away

When you’re feeling nervous for no reason

We know, since we were born,

I feel you, propose a toast (cheers)

You don’t say it but I feel it, just like twins

I pretend to not care but I’m scared,

Hold me tight when I tremble

Because of my selfishness, I always hurt you but

Forgive me, I’m sorry"

- Love Belt

For me, the most beautiful aspect of this song is that, even though it's supposedly a dialog of lovers in despair, terribly needing each other's protection, the melody is soothing and intimate. At first sight, however, what might appears contradictory is natural: they need to open up and talk about their differing perspectives, but they are already in love. Furthermore, is if he already sensed the source of her insecurities. Jonghyun, through his lyrics, indicates that she is hiding her true self from the world, afraid of being exposed, almost as if she believes to be undeserving of affection. The narrator tries to sue her concerns.

I lack nothing when I have you by my side

I can do everything,

I can shine on my own

Don’t leave me alone in the dark night

Don’t go anywhere by yourself,

you know (You know what I’m saying)

Even without lights, you shine brightly

Even without lights, you dazzlingly shine

Show me today, show me your real face

(show me the real you)

She is a NEON, shine your light

- Neon

Jonghyun tries to soothe ours: You deserve love too. You have to love yourself.

Somehow the first track of the album, Deja-boo already outlines this whole plot. There is one-side love, growing affection, deep desire, and a promise of protection.

"Stay, Oh It’s a deja vu

Oh deja vu, I saw you before, yeah you saw me right?

I’m not like the others

I won’t make you cry and leave like him"

- Déjà Boo

I like to believe, that since Deja-boo is so upbeat and sensual and, like Fortune Cookie is about intertwining destinies, they lived happily ever after.

**** SO I HAVE TALKED ABOUT MONODRAMA BUT THE TEXT IS TOO LONG. PROMISE TO DO SO SOON.

Oh, please check out THE NOREPANG PROJECT Twitter, Instagram and Cronogram

youtube

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hwarang-number · 5 years ago

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[Fic] The Distance Between You and Me (Pt 1)

Pairing: Jonghyun/Minho (Jongho)

Rating: T (at the moment; may change with Pt 2)

Word Count: 5,112

Summary: The moon loved a herdsboy: a sun-bronzed youth with eyes like dark stars, set in a face so beautiful that Jonghyun (for such was the name of the moon, or rather the god who embodied it) lay his head upon his arms and wept at the thought of it. Myth!AU written for Jjong’s Month 2020.

A/N: I’m painfully new to SHINee fic, so I’m certain this must be an overdone trope/prompt, but when I read “write a one-shot titled after one of [Jonghyun’s] songs or lyrics (can also be songs he wrote for SHINee or other artists),” all I could think of was “Selene,” with moon!Jonghyun/shepherd!Minho. Because I’m so new to this and had so little time, I leaned heavily on my established writing style from previous fandoms/projects, which I fear may have resulted in a terribly cheesy end product. But I really wanted to at least try after a dear writer friend expressed her excitement at the prospect of me writing such a fic. <3

I was really pressing to get this whole thing done in time (it was intended to be a oneshot and will eventually be posted to AO3/AFF as such), but the past month has been a non-stop string of personal crises and it just wasn’t happening, no matter how hard I tried. :( I’ve written about half of Pt 2 and am hoping to get it finished and posted within a couple of weeks; in the meantime: please forgive typos/clumsy wordage/other glitches (my brain has been short-circuiting of late with stress and lack of sleep).

***************************************************

The moon loved a herdsboy: a sun-bronzed youth with eyes like dark stars, set in a face so beautiful that Jonghyun (for such was the name of the moon, or rather the god who embodied it) lay his head upon his arms and wept at the thought of it. The youth was lean and long-limbed, his body shaped for finer pastimes than the pursuit of wayward goats, and wore his hair tied at the nape with a scrap of red ribbon.

Such ribbons were easily caught upon branches or tugged free by the impish breeze who admired the herdsboy in his turn – and the fall of soft black hair about that handsome face – and Jonghyun kept a treasure box of them behind a loose stone on the back of his altar, the most precious of which still bore strands of long black hair.

In winter, the herdsboy wound a length of coarse wool about his throat and wrapped his long, beautiful legs with goatskins against the chill of wind and snow.

He was a merry youth, laughing often – at the antics of children or the foolishness of his goats – in an unlikely, high-pitched tremolo that doubled him over and as often as not, sent him tumbling to the ground, clutching his stomach in mirth, and Jonghyun could never hear enough of it. And each night the boy crooned to his flock in the gentlest voice Jonghyun had heard in centuries of surveying the earth: husky and low and so impossibly sweet that it stilled the breath in the moon god’s lungs and brought tears to his eyes.

He was – everything.

And were the rest insufficient: the youth was devout, attending Jonghyun’s temple daily with a plump skin of his richest milk for the priestesses, who blushed at his smiles and silently lamented their vows, and he routinely brought the prettiest and most docile of his goat kids for them to rear and make pets of.

His hut lay hard-by Jonghyun’s temple, and every eve he stabled his goats just before sunset and returned to lay some additional token upon the altar before Jonghyun ascended to illuminate the night sky. A handful of berries still warm from his palm, a piece of honeycomb wrapped in green leaves, or perhaps a soft goat cheese rolled in lavender; some small edible to help sustain the moon ere he began his night’s work.

And every evening Jonghyun waited, lovesick and trembling in the shadows behind his altar, ever aching to rise and peer over the stone a heartbeat sooner, to catch a glimpse of the herdsboy’s large, lustrous eyes instead of his lean silhouette and the bob of his hair tail – for he always, endearingly, tidied his appearance before entering the temple – as he made his way home.

Jonghyun had so little with which to demonstrate his favor and was afraid to make a spectacle of it, and so each night he lingered a little longer above the herdsboy’s hut, as though he could saturate the thatch with the silver light of his adoration and the boy would welcome it.

This was the very essence of foolishness, for the boy cherished his slumber and begrudged any interruption of it, but on the very best nights, when the sky was clear of clouds and Jonghyun’s pale light illumined the landscape as brightly as day, the boy would leave his hut to bathe in the nearby stream, which flowed beneath Jonghyun’s temple and kept it cool throughout the summer. Caught in moonlight, water shimmered like diamonds along every contour of that long, lean body, and Jonghyun keened with longing to trace the paths of those drops with his fingertips and lap them up where they pooled in the shadowy hollows of the youth’s form.

Kibum, naturally, found his agony ridiculous.

Bed him, for pity’s sake, the sun urged his brother in exasperation. Slip beneath his coverlets at dawn and rouse him with kisses, or court him properly and make him your consort. There’s no law against it, neither for you nor the boy.

But Jonghyun knew better. While it was nowhere forbidden for god nor mortal to take another man for a lover – indeed, Kibum had enjoyed many such already – a mortal man wanted a bride and babes: a beautiful woman to share his bed and keep his home and birth his children; a legacy of his own body.

The herdsboy was of age to be married, some four winters now, and while maidens openly admired his face and form and he had received suits from many hopeful fathers-in-law, he had yet to choose a bride.

Clearly, only the rarest beauty would do for him.

Jonghyun found himself waning sooner and longer, his slim body growing thinner still, and one morning just before dawn, a scowling Kibum took the reins from his hand and replaced them with a stout, steaming elixir.

The people fear that the moon is displeased – or ailing, he warned. The spring festival is scarcely a fortnight hence. Sleep now, fortify yourself, and find some way to demonstrate your favor, and swiftly.

I’ll blossom the apples for you, Kibum offered, laying an uncommonly gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder and pressing a kiss to his brow. But you must act on this boy or put him behind you. The very earth feels the pull of your longing; surely this herdsboy cannot be immune to it.

But he was; surely he was, for each day the herdsboy smiled brightly as ever as he led his goats to pasture and back again, cheerful and whistling and thoroughly unaffected. Perhaps his offerings had grown a little heartier – he left a cheese every day now, for it was too early for any wild fruits, as well as an apple or pear from his winter store and sometimes even a small loaf of coarse bread, made by his own strong hands – but this was easily attributed to his devotion to the moon god. Others had also cautiously increased their offerings, for while Jonghyun was not known as a wrathful being – indeed, he could afflict mankind little more than by ceasing to shine at night, something he did once every 28 days regardless – Kibum had spoken truly, and there was uncertainty and concern at his present, prolonged waning.

Wearied by Kibum’s directive and the weight of constant lonely longing, Jonghyun took himself to earth and sat beneath an apple tree, one of several in the meadow that flanked the herdsboy’s hut, wrapping his silver foxskin about him as a coverlet and nestling his chin amidst its plush pile. It was the first truly warm morning of the new season, and he watched through his lashes as the herdsboy emerged from his hut and unstrapped the goatskins from his legs with a jubilant cry, then sat on his stoop and sighed with pleasure at the warmth of Kibum’s light on his winter-paled shins.

No, this one belonged to Kibum’s world of sunshine and merriment, not Jonghyun’s soft darkness and melancholy and lullabies.

Jonghyun tipped his head back against the trunk and let his eyes fall closed, the lids heavy with unshed tears.

He had surely drowsed no more than a minute when he was startled awake by the soft low voice he loved so well, so nearby that his heart stumbled in his chest.

“Have you breakfasted, stranger?” the herdsboy asked, and Jonghyun opened his eyes to find the youth crouched before him: near enough to touch, were he to stretch out a hand; closer than they had ever been before, with the innermost edges of his brows raised in concern: an expression Jonghyun had long adored.

Face to face, he was so beautiful Jonghyun could not draw a breath, and so he gave no reply, expecting the youth would direct him to the temple, for it was an easy distance and the priestesses always fed travelers – and the herdsboy was unmistakably headed there himself, for already he bore the plump goatskin bag over one shoulder.

Instead, he leaned forward to lay the backs of his fingers against Jonghyun’s forehead, brows knitting as he sought for fever, and the moon – feverish in truth, if not in a way that mortals might detect – trembled beneath his touch.

“You are pale with exhaustion,” the herdsboy observed with a frown. “Have you no proper place to lay your head for a few hours? My hut stands just yonder,” he explained, throwing back an arm in explanation, “and my goats are freshly milked. I will make you grain porridge with milk and honey, and you may sleep awhile upon my cot.”

At this something buckled in Jonghyun, like the latch upon a floodgate, for even gods may dream impossible things. “You need not,” he whispered in token protest, but he was truly so very weary with lovesickness and the sleeplessness that follows in its wake, and all at once the boy caught up Jonghyun in his arms. Those lean, strong arms he had ached for so long to envelop him now curled beneath his back and knees, hefting his body as though he weighed no more than a moonbeam.

The youth smelled of wood fires and warm milk, of goat-musk and boy-musk and the last of winter’s chill, and Jonghyun clenched his eyelids against a tide of hot tears.

“You are so spent you can scarce keep your eyes open,” the boy worried. “Or are you ill in truth?”

Jonghyun shook his head, for he did not trust his voice, and buried his face in the boy’s tunic – poor peasant’s cloth, softened by countless washings in the stream and saturated with the scents of the boy’s body. At this proximity he could feel the pulse of the boy’s heart beneath his cheek: quick and hard – no doubt, at the burden of another’s body in his arms, however small and slight.

Surely it was Jonghyun’s imagination, but it seemed the boy cradled him closer as he carried him to his hut and inside, to lay him carefully upon a thin straw pallet near the hearth.

“My cover is unequal to your own,” the boy said ruefully, glancing between the coarse patchwork of goatskins that served him as a blanket and the lush silver fur that currently lay over Jonghyun, but the moon caught the boy’s hand as he made to withdraw the humble coverlet.

“By your leave, I will enjoy them both,” he pled, a little hoarsely. “For I am grown thin these days and feel the cold more keenly.”

“The day promises to be warm,” the herdsboy said with a smile, tucking the goatskins around Jonghyun as well. “But I would not have you take chill in my home.”

He quickly prepared a grain porridge, hot and hearty, with generous measures of milk and honey, then propped Jonghyun’s back against the wattle and daub and chafed his feet between long, strong hands as Jonghyun raised each spoonful to his mouth with trembling fingers.

“Still you are shivering,” the boy remarked, and snugly bundled the covers about Jonghyun’s feet before adding more wood to the hearth, then brought him an apple for good measure.

“I must take the goats to pasture,” the boy told him, almost regretfully, and shouldered the skin bag of milk once more. “And I must visit the market as well this day, but freely avail yourself of any of my meager comforts. I will return before sundown to stable the goats, and –”

“I must depart before sundown,” Jonghyun interrupted him, so gently, but still the admission cracked his heart, for he ached to hear the boy’s intentions for the evening, however impossible. Surely he meant to offer Jonghyun a portion of his supper, perhaps even a place to sleep for the night…

“Of course,” the boy said softly, as though he had expected this answer, and Jonghyun closed his eyes once more, this time with regret.

Something brushed his forehead then, something light and warm and fleeting, making Jonghyun’s scalp prickle with pleasure, but when he opened his eyes, the boy had gone.

Porridge and apple lay forgotten as the moon cried himself to sleep, face buried in a straw pallet that smelled of the herdsboy’s body and a goatskin patchwork drawn over his head.

To his astonishment, and in spite of his grief, he slept better than he had in nearly a decade – since first he had glimpsed the herdsboy as a merry child with sunburned cheeks, all lanky limbs and a curly tangle of black hair that defied the confines of ribbons – and he rose mid-afternoon with a fine appetite and devoured cold porridge and apple in minutes, with several mugfuls of goat’s milk, and even caught himself perusing the herdsboy’s larder for more. It was humble and scanter than Jonghyun would have guessed in light of the gifts the boy always left at the temple, and Jonghyun forbade himself any further repast – for he had food aplenty at home, but this boy did not.

“I could feed you,” he whispered, circling the mouth of the nearly empty flour jar. “Such food as you could scarce dream of, and you could pasture your goats among the stars.”

He let himself think of the kiss – if indeed it had been such – only thrice, stroking the place on his forehead where the herdsboy’s lips had touched him. A brow kiss was a blessing; a well-wishing, seen as often betwixt kin as lovers, and the boy – this vibrant, beautiful, perfect boy who laughed with his whole being – had found Jonghyun all but crumpled beneath a tree, wearied to a thread and thin as a beggar’s child.

No, if he had kissed Jonghyun’s brow before departing, it was motivated by compassion, which the herdsboy possessed in no short supply, not ardor.

As desperately as Jonghyun wished to replenish the boy’s larder – to burst it at its seams with parcels of rich food and drink, then exchange his humble straw pallet and goatskins for a marble pedestal pillowed with deep cushions and draped in furs – he knew he dared not, for the boy could not know that a god – let alone the moon himself, who loved him to distraction – had slept on his cot and eaten his porridge; that he had carried a god to his own bed and chafed his feet warm and kissed his brow. Jonghyun would – must – remain a weary traveler to him, grateful for his generosity but too poor to repay it in any material means.

With this in mind, Jonghyun carried both pallet and goatskins outside, to air them upon the sun-warmed grass and dry the damp left by his tears, then he swept the hut from stoop to sills, for tidying the boy’s home would demonstrate Jonghyun’s thankfulness while costing him nothing, nor betraying his true identity.

You are the veriest fool, declared Kibum; faintly, for he was quite some ways off, in Jonghyun’s mind. If you truly wished to show him favor, you would have pulled him beneath the covers and bade him hold you while you slept, not tidied his home, which little required it.

Jonghyun ignored his brother’s chiding and spent half an hour scouring the meadow for dandelions – there were but three at this early date; their brave yellow faces the very first of the year – to lay upon the herdsboy’s refreshed cot as a token of gratitude.

The hut smelled of Kibum when Jonghyun was finished: of warm grass and meadow-pollen and dusty golden light – as befits the herdsboy, the moon reminded himself when the realization saddened him – and he busied his hands with assembling a meal for the boy upon his return: a simple, hearty potage of root vegetables simmering over the fire and a dish of baked honeyed pears. The nights were still so very cold, and the boy might well be chilled upon his return, in which case a hot meal would be a better reward than any sum of gold.

This being done, Jonghyun stood in the doorway, foxskin wrapped about him and eyes fixed on the empty meadow as Kibum drew the light ever lower. It is not yet your renewal night, came a distant, regretful whisper from just above the horizon. I will give your boy a few minutes more, but if he does not return soon, you must leave without saying goodbye.

Jonghyun’s heart panged, for though he had known it was unlikely that he should see the herdsboy before departing – had expected, even intended as much – still he had hoped the boy would return in time for a farewell greeting. For one final smile, given only to Jonghyun; for another lungful of rustic musk, or a fleeting touch of long fingers.

He ducked back inside the hut, heart sore and eyes burning, and was halfway through lighting the lamps when he heard the first bleat, closer than he could have dreamed. “You came,” he breathed, and ran to the doorway once more to watch the herdsboy chase his goats into their shelter by the fiery orange light of Kibum’s valiantly slowed sunset, barking to hasten them while glancing frantically over his shoulder at the hut, and his handsome face grew radiant with both joy and relief when he caught sight of Jonghyun on the stoop.

Gate bolted and goats secured, the herdsboy reached the hut in four long strides, ruddy-cheeked and panting, his black hair ribbonless and wind-tangled about his shoulders, and Jonghyun thought he had never looked more beautiful.

“I meant to return much earlier,” he said, “but the kids strayed off, and I was so afraid I should miss you –”

“I would not leave without thanking you for your hospitality,” Jonghyun replied, but he lowered his gaze at the boy’s words, feeling his cheeks warm.

The boy slipped a large cloth bag from his shoulder and pressed it into Jonghyun’s hands. “To sustain you on your journey,” he said, adding shyly: “T’was why I went to market this day.”

Jonghyun opened the bag to find a bounty of foodstuffs that would have cost the herdsboy a milk-goat at the very least. A large golden loaf of the finest bread and a portion of cold roast beef, savory roasted nuts, rare citrus fruits, sweet filled pastries, a flask of pale wine, and a fat pouch of honey candies: offering foods of the richest sort. The sort of gift that kings lay upon the altar of their favorite god on feast days – and the very fare Jonghyun had ached to provide to the herdsboy, whom he worshipped in his turn.

“Thank you for visiting this humble place,” the boy said softly, his eyes on the stoop beneath Jonghyun’s bare feet, then he dropped to his knees, bending low to press kisses to each one. “For taking shelter in my home,” he sighed, resting his cheek against Jonghyun’s calf in a gesture of reverent submission that stole the moon god’s breath away.

Jonghyun curled his fingers into fists against the urge to reach down and stroke that wind-tangled hair; to gently lift that face and kneel in turn to bring his own to meet it. “I am not who you believe,” the moon said as evenly as he could manage. “I am a weary traveler only; you gift me far too richly.”

“I would gift you richer still, had I the means,” the herdsboy whispered, and dipped his head to press a kiss to each sensitive ankle bone in turn, making Jonghyun’s thighs tremble.

Kibum’s light flickered warningly, clinging to the very edge of the horizon, and Jonghyun slipped the priceless foxskin from his shoulders. “I am not who you believe,” he said again, his voice quaking beneath the weight of the lie, “and so I will repay your generous gift with one of my own.”

He draped the fur about the herdsboy’s bent form, whimpering silently as he lifted black hair as soft as feathers to lay the garment against the youth’s nape, but before the herdsboy could raise his head and respond, the moon had vanished.

Breathless and shivering, Jonghyun appeared in his temple, to quickly collect the evening’s offerings before his imminent ascent, and his breath caught anew at the sight of a cloth bag; a twin to the herdsboy’s gift, awaiting him upon the altar.

“From your beloved,” the priestesses confirmed, for they were full aware of the moon’s adoration. “He came early and in a feverish hurry, with his entire flock in tow, and had a quarter hour’s labor rounding them up again as they gamboled about the courtyard with their fellows.”

Jonghyun smiled at the image in spite of his state and took the bag from the altar, finding its contents to be identical to the one he already carried – an unimaginable expense for a poor herdsboy – save for a familiar scrap of red ribbon that had seemingly fallen inside as the boy made up the parcels.

He would have sold two goats, Jonghyun realized: fine milking does, substantially reducing his income in order to afford such luxuries – not to mention, needlessly traveling far out of his way to obtain them. And why prepare a second gift – an exorbitant expense – if he intended to bring an offering gift to Jonghyun at his hut?

Because he feared to miss you, Kibum supplied in Jonghyun’s mind, his tone at once impatient and pitying, and Jonghyun joined him a moment later, weighted down with the herdsboy’s gifts.

He knew you for the moon god, Kibum said frankly, tossing the reins without watching to see whether his brother caught them, and was terrified you would depart before he could offer proper tribute, be it upon your altar or upon your person.

The sun god arched one sharp black brow in shameless intimation, and Jonghyun glanced betwixt the reins in his hand and the rich parcels weighing him down at either shoulder. He is…singular in his devotion, he conceded.

He carried you like a lover within moments of your meeting, then laid you in his own bed and departed with a kiss to your brow, Kibum recalled dryly. And when you made to leave him, he showered you with offerings; knelt before you and kissed your feet like he’d never beheld anything so precious. And still you believe him to be merely a pious devotee, who wishes a beautiful maid for his bride?

Jonghyun flicked the reins and set off before Kibum could press the issue, but his brother’s voice followed him into the night sky, gentler now: How can you believe he could never love you when this day he has given overwhelming proof that he already does?

He promised himself again and again that he would take no special notice of the herdsboy as he passed, nor linger above the hut he now knew so well, but his hands faltered at the reins when he spotted his beloved far below, wrapped in Jonghyun’s foxskin against the evening’s chill and seated upon the stoop, a steaming bowl of Jonghyun’s potage cradled between his hands and his face upturned to receive the moon’s light.

Thank you for this day, Jonghyun told him silently, tears burning in his eyes. For your care even more than your gifts, though I cherish them as well, and the sacrifices you made to obtain them. I will find a better way to thank you – to fully reward your kindness.

You know that method already, Kibum informed him upon his return, as though he had been a full participant in Jonghyun’s internal dialogue. Make love to him: this morning, if you like, or if you prefer to be in finer form ere you present your body beneath his coverlets: go to him during the festival, on new moon night. You will have nearly a fortnight to restore your flesh and fully a night and a day to enjoy him.

Jonghyun pondered all of this in the days that followed, as he reverently consumed every last morsel of the herdsboy’s extravagant gifts while seated on the floor behind his altar and absently counted the ribbons in his treasure box. The youth’s offerings had not altered since their encounter: without fail, and despite his decreased supply, still he delivered a full skin of goat’s milk every morning for the priestesses – and Jonghyun too, who always drank a mugful, sweetened with honey, ere he settled to sleep for the day. More often than not now, rather than returning to his palatial bed at home, Jonghyun slept in one of the empty pilgrims’ cells off the temple courtyard, furnished with a straw pallet and thin coverlet and sometimes a goat-kid or two trotting in to lie beside him, for in such a place he could easily imagine that he lay again in his beloved’s bed, and that this time the herdsboy would return early and join him beneath that coverlet.

The boy still came to the temple before sunset with his little tokens – humble once more; a small coarse loaf baked by his own hands, an apple, and almost always a bit of cheese – and now there were dandelions among them, tied with a scrap of red ribbon or, better still, woven into a flower crown, which Jonghyun donned without hesitation and wore on his journey, scenting his hair with the midday meadow and lending a faint golden hue to his light.

The herdsboy gave him dandelions because he had given them first, Jonghyun reasoned, even as such explanations made Kibum apoplectic with exasperation. It was not uncommon for the boy to leave flowers on the altar with his evening gift, nor for Jonghyun to wear them in his hair; he offered dandelions now because there was little else in bloom, or perhaps he had concluded that Jonghyun admired them, having received three of them from the moon himself.

The moon’s visible face waned as appointed as the festival drew near, though Jonghyun swiftly gained back the weight and vigor he had lost with restful sleep and a steady supply of goat’s milk and cheese – and adoration, Kibum chimed in dryly. His gifts nourish you differently now, filled as they are with unabashed love.

Jonghyun blushed and dismissed this with a roll of his eyes, but the festival drew ever nearer, and Kibum wrung from him the promise to spend it in the meadow near the herdsboy’s hut, where there would be feasting and merrymaking and contests of swiftness and skill, in which the youth always took part and excelled.

Kibum had pressed for a greater commitment, of course, even threatening to bar Jonghyun from his celestial duties – to delay the very waxing of the moon – if he did not at least kiss the herdsboy at the festival, but Jonghyun was reluctant to encounter the youth again: afraid, he admitted only to himself, that he would find no repetition of those tender gestures, only a handsome head bowed to the ground in reverence.

The herdsboy, Jonghyun was certain, wanted a beautiful maiden at his hearth and in his bed, and he would surely seek and meet this mate at the festival. And so the moon conceived a plan that would enable him to encounter the youth one final time – and then, he promised himself, he would put such longings behind him forever.

He would guise himself as a young woman, and with little difficulty, for Jonghyun stood a head shorter than the herdsboy and was possessed of a small, fine frame, nipped even slimmer at the waist. His jaw was strong and his cheekbones high, to be sure, but his eyes, dark and delicate, were exquisite as a maiden’s; his nose small and his lips ripe as rosehips. It would take precious little embellishment to give him the semblance of a pretty maiden: a maiden who might openly approach the herdsboy at a festival and share wine with him, perhaps even ask him to dance – an activity beloved by the agile youth, though he only ever partook in the group dances; never alone with a partner.

You are the veriest fool, Kibum sighed, even as he painted Jonghyun’s cheekbones with stardust. Would you truly have him love you as a maid?

He will not love me, Jonghyun assured him. I merely wish to be near him one last time.

Kibum chuckled and shook his head as he cinched an embroidered girdle at Jonghyun’s waist, belling the skirts about his narrow hips and small, thoroughly unfeminine backside. And if he desires to bed you like this? he wondered impishly, darting a hand inside his brother’s blouse to pinch and rouge his nipples, furthering the illusion of breasts beneath, and Jonghyun leapt back with a mortified cry, to the sun’s riotous laughter.

If I drape your loin covering just so, you can lift your skirts and take him inside you without him once knowing that he mates with a male, Kibum offered, even as the moon turned away, face burning, to arrange a veil over the back of his head, concealing the short length of his wavy dark hair.

I’ve done it many a time, the sun assured him. Your positions are limited somewhat, but none are unpleasant in the least –

I will not deceive my beloved into bed! Jonghyun snapped. I go tonight simply to be near him one last time; to be in his presence without the disparity of god and man between us. To laugh and dine and dance with him – and then let him go, to find the maiden he means to wed.

Kibum sighed once more, somber now, and handed Jonghyun his finest earrings. I accept this, though I may not agree, he said quietly. I have observed your beloved in my turn, and I feel this evening may not proceed as you intend. How will you respond if you are the maiden he wishes to wed – or, like as not, he recognizes you as the god he worships daily?

He will do neither, Jonghyun replied, for your disguises are flawless, and he will wed a girl from his village.

If you are wrong, the sun teased, but gently, I sincerely hope I shall not see you back here till tomorrow evening.

If I am right, you shall not see me till then either, Jonghyun told him, for I expect to weep in my temple at least that long once I have freed him of the burden of my love.

You may find him more than eager to bear that burden, Kibum said, and swatted his brother’s backside with clear affection. The apple trees are in bloom, as I promised: go now, and dance and dine and laugh with your boy.

#jjongsmonth #jjongsmonth2020 #i inadvertently made a little prince reference in here and was so happy when i realized it!#my opus in my previous fandom is full of moon imagery and little prince and the fox references #so i really wanted to try it here with jonghyun #the distance between you and me #selene!jonghyun #moon!jonghyun #endymion!minho #selene and endymion #jongho #jonghyun/minho #hohyun #jongho fic #fanfic #my fic

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internet-tears · 5 years ago

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Tonight, on Jonghyun’s 30th birthday, the brightest moon of 2020 will proudly light up the night sky in celebration of him. 😭❤️

The universe really does love him.

#HappyJonghyunDay

#my.txt #happyjonghyunday #happy birthday jonghyun #kim jonghyun #jonghyun #shinee #shinee jonghyun #jjongie #jjongsmonth #pearl aqua #i love him so much #like 💕💕💕#super moon

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jongyutiful · 6 years ago

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Where Are You?

So this was supposed to be for Jjong’s Month but I’m terrible and procrastinated. I guess it still kind of counts because it’s still April.

Where is the one who’ll date me? Where is the one who’ll hold hands with me? Where is the one who’ll have kisses with me?

Jonghyun slumped further into his seat and tried not to gag at the disgusting display of affection in front of him. It was like his friends had no shame, this was a public cafe and he was sure no one wanted to see this. Taemin was almost completely out of his seat and draped over Kibum’s shoulder. His eyes followed Kibum’s fork as it took a small piece of cake from the plate to his lips; leaving a bit of icing behind. Taemin’s tongue slipped out to lick his lips before he was lunging forward to be Kibum’s personal napkin. Fucking Gross.

After watching the whole song and dance happen again, he leaned over to Jinki, speaking loudly. “Is this allowed?”

Jinki laughed and passed over his own cupcake to try and appease the disgruntled boy. Jonghyun gladly took a bite but nearly choked on it when he catches his friends now making out. “YA! This is a public place! Take your gross foreplay somewhere else.”

Kibum pulled away just enough to roll his eyes and glare across the table. “Geez hyung, you don’t have to be so sour just because you don’t have someone to be cute with.”

Not having a clever comeback, Jonghyun slumped further into his seat. He looked over to Jinki, hoping for some help. However, the older is already staring intently at him. “What?”

Jinki leaned forward suddenly towards Jonghyun but seemed to hesitate at the last second. He glanced up to meet Jonghyun’s curious look with dusted cheeks and a soft smile. Slowly Jinki reached forward to swipe at Jonghyun’s bottom lip. “Just some icing.” Jonghyun is left blinking as Jinki sat back in his seat like nothing happened.

“Hyung!” Jonghyun whined as he clutched onto Jinki’s arm as soon as the boy passed the door of his music class. “Hyung, that cute boy from music theory has a girlfriend!” The pair made their way from the music building, out into the courtyard. “They were holding hands and whispering to each other in the hallway. God, it feels like everywhere I look are couples! It’s not fair hyung, where is mine.”

Jinki rearranged their arms so he could comfortably hold Jonghyun's hand, he gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with him, but keep your head up. I-”

“Jinki-hyung!”

The pair stopped walking and turned to see star athlete Choi Minho jogging across the courtyard to them. He stopped just in front of them and smiled, his focus entirely on Jinki. “Hyung, I wanted to thank you for helping me with my homework. I was able to pass my test because of you!”

“Congratulations Minho, that’s great. I’m glad I was able to help.” Jonghyun’s eyes flicked back from Jinki’s shy smile to Minho’s shining eyes. He couldn’t help but sigh; when was someone going to look at him like that?

“Can I take you out tonight as a thank you? Celebrate my passing over some food and drinks?”

Jonghyun sighed again and dropped his hold on Jinki’s hand. This was just great, now there was going to be another couple to make him feel like shit. Even worse, now he wouldn’t have Jinki to hang out with! He’ll truly be all alone.

Jonghyun couldn’t wallow for long. He was surprised when Jinki reached out and tightly gripped the hand that Jonghyun had just pulled away. “Ah, I’m sorry Minho but Jonghyun and I have plans for tonight. Congratulations again on passing your test and if you need to take another look at my notes, just let me know.”

Minho glanced down at their interlocked hands, his eyes dimmed. “I understand. Thanks again hyung.” Minho gave the older one last smile before jogging off from the pair.

Jonghyun pulled his hand out of Jinki’s to face the older directly. “Why did you say no? Minho clearly wanted to take you on a nice date. Which would have lead to giving you gross public kisses and holding your hand and whispering sweet nothings in your ear in the hallway.”

Jinki only laughed at his rant. He draped his arm over the younger’s shoulders and pulled him close into his side. “I don’t like him like that. There is actually someone else that I’d like to give my kisses to and hold hands with.”

Jonghyun reached one hand up to play with the hand that was draped over his shoulders. “Well since you have no plans tonight, you can spend it with me as I wallow in loneliness. Honestly, even you have people asking you out! Where is mine!”

Jinki dropped a quick kiss to the top of Jonghyun’s head, he squeezed the hand held in his own. “Don’t worry, you’ll find them. They’re probably a lot closer than you think.”

#jongyu #kim jonghyun #jonghyun #lee jinki #jinki #onew #shinee #SHINee FanFic #Jjongsmonth

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rollercoasterwrite · 3 years ago

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JJONG’S MONTH 2022 (5TH ED.) IN COLLABORATION WITH SUMMEROF5HINEE !!!!!!!!!!!!

APRIL IS AROUND THE CORNER, SO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS…

This is the 5th edition guys, this is crazy to think about wow!!!

So in honor of this milestone, we are introducing a beautiful concept to honor Jjong through our words. I want to give a special thank you to @quagmireisadora for coming up with the theme for this year and summerof5hinee for collaborating with us again to host this precious event.

The theme is inspired by Galileo's theory that the dark spots on the moon are bodies of water. Each of these "seas" have distinctive names, which writers will use to inspire their stories.

Choose a sea with a name that inspires or compels you. Write anything you want in connection to the sea name, as long as it is Jonghyun-centric in some way!

All further information related to the collaborative event is available on this carrd.

You can sign-up to the event there and then submit your story and/or publish them on Tumblr as well or solely on here because I will be hosting the event here as well and keeping track of the stories in the #jjongsmonth tag to create a fifth masterlist. I recommend you also tag me so I can find your stories!!!

Check out last year’s masterlist the third one, the second one and the first one.

If you have any questions you can contact me or contact the organizers of Summerof5hinee via their Twitter account!

Happy Jjong’s month!! ^^

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shawol9196 · 6 years ago

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Jonghyun Solo Song Drabbles: Sightseeing (#41/50)

“You’d think for how seemingly expensive this place is they’d have decent wifi.” Minho chuckles. “See you needed to buy the extra deluxe pack for the good wifi. They can’t just be giving everything away.”

It takes a few minutes for the connection to reestablish itself; as funny as Minho’s smeared and pixelated face is, Jonghyun’s not in the mood for it.

“You’d think for how seemingly expensive this place is they’d have decent wifi.”

Minho chuckles. “See you needed to buy the extra deluxe pack for the good wifi. They can’t just be giving everything away.”

“If they give anything away I’d prefer it be the ugly ass rugs in the lobby but that’s a different story.”

Minho’s face and the screen freezes again and Jonghyun can’t help but huff.

“So I think it’s just the visual that’s frozen.” comes Minho’s voice.

“The visual is the whole purpose of this.” he whines.

“Speaking of, we’re not bothering whoever you’re rooming with, are we?”

“No. The rest of the group all went out sightseeing.”

“You didn’t go?”

“No, why would I?”

“You’re in a big city neither of us have been to for a big conference that’s going to take up like one, maybe two whole lines of your CV, and you don’t even want to go out and snap a few photos?”

“No. I don’t like it here and I don’t like any of the people I came with and this conference isn’t anything like what I’d thought it’d be and you’re the only sight I want to see.”

It takes all of Jonghyun’s strength not to throw his laptop against the wall when the call drops. He scrambles to find his phone when it starts ringing.

“Sorry, I had to hang up. My laptop started screeching and I love you but I don’t want to be possessed by the computer demons or anything. Anyway, what were you saying? It cut out just as you started.”

“Oh, I...I just said I’m too tired for that.”

#dau #dau writing #writing #jonghyun #jjongsmonth #minho #jongho

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katrinawritesthings · 4 years ago

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jonghyun / taemin; runaway; PG

close your thoughts and open your heart // hey love let's run away or you know that part in runaway after the bridge where jonghyun starts hitting in with the ad libs. I felt that in my heart @rollercoasterwrite hi again : )

After a while, a bouncy song worms its way into his head, has his heel tapping on the wooden slat of the train tracks. Taemin is holding his wrist in one hand, poking and pinching at the veins in his hand with the other. Jonghyun twists his hand so he can hold Taemin's instead, lacing their fingers together.

“Hey love, let's run away,” he sings softly. Taemin snorts quietly, the sound followed by a slow sigh.

“Sometimes I really want to,” he mumbles. He tilts his head away, but only until Jonghyun’s head falls to rest on his shoulder. Then he rests his head back on top of Jonghyun. “Just…” he says. “Pack some shit and... leave.”

Crickets chirp at Jonghyun’s feet as he walks along the dirt side of the road. The sidewalk dropped off about a block ago as he got towards the back of the neighborhood, where all of the big older houses are, the ones that are framed on this corner by the train tracks ahead of him and the creek to his left across the street.

He can hear the creek now, barely; it's summer so it's pretty low, but there's still a very faint trickle of water running through the rocks at the very bottom. He follows it, hands in his jeans pockets, leather jacket over his shoulders, collar popped for style and gay, and alternates between watching where his feet are going in the darkness and gazing up at the starry sky through the trees grown tall and wide by the house on his right.

Soon he comes to the end of the houses, the corner of this block, and faces the train tracks just on the other side of the road. He turns right and starts making his way that way, walking with the tracks to his left now, and keeps going until he hops back up onto the sidewalk in front of the blue apartments that line the road here. There he counts doors, passes one, two, three, four, Taemin’s, comes to a stop, turns left.

There, across the street, sitting lazily on the metal rail of the train tracks, softly illuminated by a street lamp a couple of yards away, Taemin lifts a hand and waves at him.

Jonghyun smiles even though he knows it's too dark for Taemin to see and waves back. He knew he would find Taemin here tonight. Taemin is always out here when he starts posting his emo lonely shit on his blog at 2 in the morning. Looking both ways, hopping off of the sidewalk yet again, Jonghyun jogs across the street and joins Taemin, sitting on the rail opposite him with their feet purposefully close together so that when he gets bored of sitting still they can play footy.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” Taemin says back.

“How are you feeling?”

“Mmh. Buh. You?”

“Yeah. Same.”

“Nice.” Taemin reaches one hand out over the tracks and Jonghyun takes it, a handhold of solidarity over their shitty mental health. They grin at each other in the lamp light, Jonghyun taking in Taemin’s tired eyes and mussed dirty blond hair under his hood and blotchy skin, knowing that Taemin is looking him over as well.

A moment passes like that, and then another where Jonghyun appreciates that moment, appreciates Taemin, appreciates the gay little nut that he always harbors inside of himself for his friend. Then, before he even gets bored of sitting still, he gets bored of not sitting next to Taemin.

So he stands up, just for a second, and moves to sit on the opposite train track, next to Taemin so their sides are pressed together. Swinging his arm around Taemin’s shoulders with enough force that they sway backward and forward a little bit, he smirks when Taemin rolls his eyes at him and leans their heads together. This is good.

“How's work?” Taemin asks him then.

“Oh, awful,” Jonghyun says cheerfully. Taemin snorts, but not in a surprised way; Jonghyun knows that he already knew what the answer was before he asked. He elaborates more anyway: “Hours suck, mr. manager can't decide whether or not he wants to give me none or all of them,” he says, lifting one finger on the hand around Taemin’s shoulders. “Ever since summer started we get way less cool broke college kids and way more entitled Karens, management spent a whole month hyping up a super big raise that turned out to be a whole $0.50, one of the other stockers quit and I got stuck with training the new kid, except the new kid is just the managers son and he refuses to learn how to do jack shit because he knows he won't get fired, and Sekyung transferred to a different store last week before I could even get up the courage to tell her I liked her.”

“Oh, dude,” Taemin says, a disappointed sigh accompanying his words. He turns to Jonghyun with a look that's half exasperated, half sympathetic. “I told you to get on that before you lost your chance.”

“I know,” Jonghyun whines. He knows. Everyone has been telling him to confess to her for like 5 months. “I'm shy around femmes,” he pouts, turning to smush his face into Taemin’s shoulder. They make him all flustered and shaky. It's always been so much easier for him to flirt with everyone else. Taemin’s hand comes up to ruffle through his hair sympathetically, which Jonghyun appreciates.

“How’s school?” he asks into Taemin’s hoodie. He knows the answer to this just like Taemin did when he asked his question, and just like he expected, Taemin groans rough in the back of his throat.

“It sucks,” Taemin says, probably too loudly for how close they are to a line of apartments at 3 in the morning. “It sucks and I hate it. I have too many classes because I need to take so many classes and fucking rich boy mc asshole that always sits next to me in bio always goes," Why don't you just take fewer classes and stay for more years?" and it's like, because I'm not fucking made out of money, asshole, and also, I don't even know why the fuck I'm taking bio, I don't know why I'm majoring in biochem, I hate it, I still can't believe I let my parents bully me into it, and I can't even join the dance club because the fucking dance club got cancelled somehow, and it's like, how the fuck do you--? It’s just a dance club? It's like one of the least problematic clubs in the school? How does that even happen? And all my teachers talk so much big shit about how woke and accommodating they are but they never even let me have one extension on anything, and--”

He stops talking in favor of just curling up his knees and pushing his forehead into them, and then tapping his forehead on them, harder and harder, almost to an alarming intensity. Almost because Jonghyun, knowing to expect it, quickly curls his arm even further around his shoulders and lifts his other arm to push on his chest, keeping him away.

“Hey! Hey... Hey,” he says quietly, close to Taemin’s ear. He drops a tiny little smooch to his temple as well, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. “Be gentle with yourself,” he chides. He can't keep banging himself up every time he gets all worked up because of all of everyone else's bullshit. Taemin sighs through his nose, whole body sagging into Jonghyun’s.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. He sounds a mix of tired of how often Jonghyun says that to him and tired of how often he needs to be told that. “Thanks,” he mumbles.

Jonghyun hums back and then lets it be quiet between them for a little bit. That's what always helps Taemin. Just sitting with someone that supports him and thinking through his brain stuff on his own. Jonghyun likes the comfort of quiet snuggling as well. He didn't walk four blocks in the middle of the night just because he was worried about his friend getting lost on the train tracks 10 yards in front of his own apartment. He was feeling emo and lonely and couldn't sleep, too. And Taemin has to know that, because he shifts closer to him and takes his hand to hold in both of his, rubbing warmth into his skin.

Taemin looks into their laps, at their hands, scuffs the pebbley ground with his foot. Jonghun looks up, to the sky, at the moon and all the stars that twinkle down at him. Both of them are getting lost in the same way, lost in their thoughts, lost in their surroundings, lost in each other's comfort. It's a familiar and easy escape to settle into and Jonghyun rests their heads together gently again.

“Hey love, let's run away,” he sings softly. Taemin snorts quietly, the sound followed by a slow sigh.

“Same,” Jonghyun says. The allure of it is so strong that sometimes he only has his executive dysfunction to blame for not actually doing it.

“Yeah?” Taemin asks, turning to him with a raised eyebrow, so close that Jonghyun can see up his nose. He fights down his giggle in favor of nodding simply. Yeah. “Where would you go?” Taemin asks. Jonghyun grins. This at least is a question he can answer easily.

“Ideally?” he says, and then points a finger straight up at the stars. “Infiltrate NASA, steal a spaceship, blast off, explore the cosmos and find a universe where everything doesn't suck.” He lets his hand fall back down into Taemin’s. “Realistically?” he asks quieter, and then he shrugs. He's never really done more than daydream and he doesn't really have any actual plans. “SHINee is doing that free little concert on the beach this weekend,” he says. That would be fun to go to.

“Fuck, I forgot about that,” Taemin hisses. “I was going to say Japan, but, fuck, I love SHINee.” Jonghyun chuckles. Japan sounds fun too, but, yeah, a chill acoustic beach concert a couple of hours away sounds much more doable. “One time, in high school,” Taemin says. “When I didn't feel guilty about asking for shit like concert tickets or whatever, I went to go see them. And this was, like, before they were popular, so I got front row seats, and Taeyeon did one of her spins, you know?”

He looks at Jonghyun like he expects Jonghyun to know what he means; Jonghyun does. The kind of spins that Taeyeon does when she's dancing, where she winds herself up and then nuts herself around like a top.

“And some of her sweat dripped on me,” Taemin continues dreamily. He taps a spot high on his cheek, next to his nose. “Right here. It was so great.”

“Lucky,” Jonghyun sighs wistfully. “2 years ago I got Junghee to sign a guitar pick for me,” he says. He blushes just thinking about her crescent eye smile, her sharp teeth, her buff babely arms as she handed him back the pick. He still has it in a tiny little glass frame on his headboard. “Do you think she would sign my bass for me, if I took it to the concert?” He asks.

“Probably, if we got up close to the front,” Taemin says. Jonghyun feels his shoulder shrug under his cheek. Then he feels it shift and move more, and sits up a little bit so Taemin is free to dig in his hoodie pocket for his phone. “How far away is that concert, even?” he asks, pulling up a map app and entering in two addresses. Jonghyun snorts as the directions and distance pop up. It's even further away than he thought; about four hours drive. Taemin doesn't snort, but he does sigh in the back of his throat, rolling his eyes and stuffing his phone into his pocket again. “Fucking. Hundred fifty bucks worth of gas,” he mutters.

“I forgot how awful your car is,” Jonghyun says, the words coming out as half of a laugh. He knows he can't talk because he doesn't have a car, but Taemin’s car is a piece of shit. He loves that rusty little bug. Taemin laughs too, embarrassed, probably a little offended. Then he sighs again.

“Plus hotel costs,” he mumbles. “You know I can't drive at night. It's scary.”

“Sure,” Jonghyun says. He can't relate, but he understands. “Train tickets are only like, eight bucks each,” he says. “$30 round trip, that's not bad. Still would have to find a hotel, though.” The trains stop running too early around here.

“Does it even have to be a round trip, though?” Taemin says absently. “I thought we were running away.”

“Oh yeah,” Jonghyun says. He yawns into his popped collar, and then smiles as a wild thought appears in his brain. Leaning back on his hands so the pebbles skittered all over the ground dig into his palms, he says, “What if when we get there and I get Junghee to sign my guitar, I show her some of the songs I've written and she's so impressed she hires me to be like, her roadie slash groupie slash songwriter?”

“Dude, yeah,” Taemin grins. “and Gwiboon wouldn't be able to resist my super cute face,” he says, poking his own cheek proudly. Jonghyun snorts, giggling into his shoulder.

“Please, she has standards,” he says, elbowing Taemin in the side. Taemin just shrugs lazily.

“Not high ones, you've seen how soft she is for Taeyeon.” and Jonghyun can't argue with that, so he doesn't. He just shakes his head fondly as he thinks about his 5 favorite ladies. Looking up at the stars, he finds his favorite one and smiles at it while Taemin yawns into the back of his hand. “We could pick up jobs with them, if we tried,” he says quietly. “You know they've talked about needing more help on their tours. We could just... Go. right now. Just us two. We could do it.”

“Yeah,” Jonghyun says, just as quietly. It really could happen. If they went. If they tried. He turns his head to his left to look at Taemin, to say something, but before he can, something behind Taemin catches his attention. Further down the track, way further, down on the main road, red lights blink slowly back and forth. And one big bright yellow light in the middle of the track slowly approaches. Faint dinging from the train crossing reaches his ears now as well.

“Shit,” he mumbles, and stands up. When Taemin blinks at him in question, he reaches both hands out to help him stand. “Train’s coming,” he says, nodding down the track.

“Oh,” Taemin says, looking down there himself. He pulls Jonghyun off of the track, to the little metal fence on the other side of it that separates them from the ditch between the track and the high soundproof walls that encase the fancy rich people apartments.

They hoist themselves up and sit on top of the fence, Jonghyun slipping his arm behind Taemin to hold on to the railing on his other side, keeping him safe. Together they watch the train slowly draw near, chugging it's way along steadily, thick clouds of smoke puffing from the front. It moves slowly; it's one of the usual supply trains that runs on this track, not one of the fast public transportation trains. Jonghyun watches the line of cars on the main street pile up behind it, amused.

It takes at least five minutes for the train to actually come near them, the scent of metal and grease and rust and smoke thick in the air. As it draws near, Taemin raises a hand in a lazy wave. Jonghyun smiles, then is filled with a sudden impulse.

Slowly, hesitantly, with all of the same hope in his heart that he had when he was 8 years old, he lifts his hand next to his head and pumps it up and down twice. Then he waits, other hand gripping tight to the railing in anticipation. He can't see the conductor in there; it's too dark, and the headlight makes it too bright in all of the wrong places. The train chugs ever closer, almost passing them, and Jonghyun starts to lose hope, but then--

The train whistle sounds, 2 long notes, just as the front cabin passes them.

The sound blasts through the night air, no doubt annoying everyone except Jonghyun, who does his biggest and loudest woohoo!, both hands raised high in the air, fists pumping back and forth triumphantly, and Taemin, who has one hand on the fence and one hand on Jonghyun’s thigh as he doubles over laughing.

It's exhilarating; Jonghyun feels ecstatic, rejuvenated, alive. His heart beats against his ribs, his lungs expand with huge breaths of air, his cheeks almost hurt from how wide and hard he's smiling, his body tingles, the warm summer breeze feels extra sharp against his skin. He watches the train go, gratitude and excitement in his soul, feeling so light and so bright from that small favor from a friendly stranger that he feels like he'll burst into a million elated pieces.

It's overwhelming, almost. How happy he is right now, in this isolated moment, how intense the emotion is. He never gets emotions this intense anymore. He loves it, loves feeling so much so suddenly, so hard, so positive. It fills him up all the way, starts in his chest and expands to every single part of his body, and Taemin’s continued laughter next to him only makes him feel better.

He turns around, takes in Taemin’s wide open mouth and round red cheeks and scrunched up eyes and feels like with him, he could feel this happy all the time. His heart, already so full and so happy, beats even faster, feels so good, so good that he reaches up and cups Taemin’s face in both hands and presses a kiss firm to his mouth.

Taemin makes a noise into his mouth, not surprised, just a little muffled exclamation. Jonghyun keeps kissing him, shallow, simple, just to feel their mouths together, to prolong this moment of happiness, to share it with his friend. Taemin, after a moment, kisses him back, a breath of a laugh puffing over Jonghyun’s upper lip. His hands come up and cover Jonghyun’s, not to move them away, but to hold.

“Yeah?” he asks between two kisses. His voice is a little incredulous, but mostly resigned, and a little enamored. Jonghyun nods, moving their hands down together to rest gently around Taemin’s neck and angle him better into the kiss.

“Yeah,” he smiles. He loves this, loves kissing, loves kissing Taemin, loves feeling this good. He wants to feel this good all the time. He wants to be with Taemin, to go with him, run away with him, he wants to--

He pulls away for just a moment, and in that moment, looking at Taemin’s closed eyelids, his chapped skin, his softly parted lips, Jongyun’s elation fades away. Reality creeps back in, slowly, a trickle of disappointment. A thought comes to him. A real thought, not an emotion. A thought of responsibility. He sighs, sliding his arms down to hug Taemin around the arms instead, pulling him close and hooking his chin over his shoulder.

“We should... Call someone to be our voice of reason and not let us run away,” he mumbles sadly. If he's feeling impulsive enough to want to kiss Taemin and be with him forever, and Taemin is feeling desperate enough to drive to the coast and never come back, then the two of them together really shouldn't be left alone. In his arms, Taemin expands and deflates in his own heavy sigh.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I guess you're right.” It's awkward when they're sitting next to each other like this on the fence, but he slips his arms around Jonghyun’s waist and hugs him back. “Jinki?” he asks. And despite how little and sad Jonghyun is suddenly feeling, he snorts and giggles a little bit.

“Are you kidding, his Sagittarius ass?” he asks. “He'd drive all the way over here right now and pick us up. Minho too.” he wouldn't trust either of them to stop a runaway impulse if his life depended on it, and that's him speaking as an Aries. Taemin scoffs quietly next to his ear.

“Astrology hoe,” he teases. Then, before Jonghyun can grump at him, says, “Key would murder us if we woke him up this late.” Jonghyun chuckles a little more. That also is true.

“That's the Libra in him,” he says slyly.

“Excuse me? He's a Virgo.”

“He's a cusp.”

“What the fuck is a cusp?”

“If you were an astrology hoe, you would know.”

“God. Shut up.”

Taemin shoves him away, but he's smiling when Jonghyun leans back and smirks, smiling and shaking his head. He pulls down his hood, runs his hands through his messy dirty blond bangs a few times, and pulls his hood back up. Jonghyun elbows his side gently, wiggling his eyebrows when Taemin glances at him just to make him shake his head again. Then he just grips the railing on either side of his hips, looking back up at the stars. Taemin holds onto the fence too, his right hand so close to Jonghyun’s left that their pinkies overlap, and looks down at the earth.

“I guess if we can't call anyone to stop us then we have to find some shred of responsibility between the two of us and do it ourselves,” Jonghyun says to the sky. He’s sure that between the both of them they can find one small nugget of good mental health and adult skills to keep them from making a bad decision at 3 in the morning. Jonghyun rolls his head to the side to nudge Taemin’s shoulder. “Want to go back to my place and just sleep?” he asks. Taemin breathes out a laugh, feet kicking against a lower rail of the fence so Jonghyun can feel every hit of contact under his thighs.

“I don't want to fucking.” he lifts one hand to rub over his face tiredly, smile still wide behind it, then gestures it vaguely over the neighborhood. “Walk, like, over a mile in the dark, that's so much work,” he says. He nudges Jonghyun back. “You just come sleep with me in my place.” he nods his head forward, over the track, across the street, at his apartment door. Jonghyun raises his eyebrows, surprised.

“I thought I wasn't allowed in your house?” he says. “Because your parents hate me, because I'm a bad influence and I turned you gay and I filled your head with awful horrible thoughts like, free healthcare is a human right and capitalism is inherently evil and no one should have to work for a living.”

Taemin snorts into laughter, ugly adorable little giggles that crinkle his eyes, then shakes his head. Shrugging, he says, “I convinced them that it was actually college that did all of that, and you couldn't have done it because you didn't go to college, so now they just hate you because you didn't go to college.”

“Oh, well, that's so much better,” Jonghyun says sarcastically. Taemin just shrugs back again, looking completely unbothered.

“They're both asleep right now and they'll both be gone in the morning anyway,” he says. “Besides, I bought myself a lock for my door and pulled the I'm a 24 year old adult and I deserve privacy excuse for it. It'll be the easiest thing in the world to sneak you into my bed. Come on.” He hops off the fence, straightens his hoodie around his hips, and then holds out his hand.

Jonghyun looks at it, his weird little fingers, his bony wrist peeking out of the sleeve. Then he looks up at Taemin’s face. Acne on his cheeks, bags under his eyes. He feels nice in his heart, the way he did earlier, but less intense, more familiar. Taking Taemin’s hand, he resists the pull in favor of tugging Taemin close to him instead, pulling him to stand between his legs. Even from here he has to tilt his head up a little bit to look into Taemin’s eyes. He cups Taemin’s face again, rubbing his thumb over his bumpy cheek, and smiles, leaning in to softly peck his lips.

Taemin makes the same kind of not surprised but just amused noise as he did before. His hands slide up to rest on Jonghyun’s thighs. Jonghyun appreciates that Taemin lets him just do this a whole lot.

“Hey, not to be impulsive emotional gay and also genuine soft gay in the same ten minutes, but,” Jonghyun says, resting their foreheads together, letting their lips brush as he speaks. “Thanks for being my friend,” he says. Then he kisses the little humming noise that Taemin makes in response to that.

“Don't mention it,” Taemin says. “Come on.” He gets his hands around Jonghyun’s waist and tugs him off of the fence. Jonghyun pretends to stumble and leans all of his weight on Taemin, clinging to him, smiling against his ear when he staggers for real and makes a surprised, disgruntled little noise. Then, before Taemin can get mad at him, he just swings his arm around his shoulders, steadies him on his feet, and bumps him gently to start walking back to his apartment.

Taemin bumps him back even harder, but he also slips his arm around his waist, so Jonghyun doesn't mind.

Their shoes crunch over the gravel around the train tracks, clink against the metal of the rail, thud against the planks. Jonghyun tilts his head to look up at the stars, thinks that would make a good picture, pauses as that thought stirs something in his memory. Tightening his hold on Taemin so he stops too, Jonghyun puts his hand into his jeans pocket and pulls out his phone.

Opening up Instagram, he leans back and snaps a picture of the sky. Then he takes another with the moon in it, his favorite lesbian, and then he lowers his phone and takes a picture of the train tracks disappearing into the darkness. Then he flips it to the front camera and smushes his cheek against Taemin’s, smiling pretty and watching him roll his eyes on the screen.

“Why?” Taemin asks, even as he lifts a hand to mess with his bangs and make them look nicer.

“It's this thing I read online one time,” Jonghyun says, waiting for Taemin to close his eyes and smile tiredly for the camera. He takes the picture and then continues, “to help with, you know, not being so mean to myself all the time. I'm documenting all the times that I feel like it's pretty okay to be me.”

As Taemin hums quietly in approval, Jonghyun raises his phone and tilts it to give them one of those funny face selfie angles. Taemin catches on very quickly, raising both hands in little v signs and pushing up his cheeks. Jonghyun giggles, muffling them in Taemin’s shoulder, before popping back up and tilting his head and opening his eyes super wide so they look gigantic in the picture.

Once he takes it, he pulls his phone back close so he can look at all of the filters and everything. He lets Taemin pull him across the street and up onto the sidewalk as he does. He plays with it, putting filters on all of the pictures except the selfies while Taemin quietly jiggles his key into the lock and sneaks him through the apartment and to his bedroom.

When they get there, Jonghyun snorts at the fact that Taemin purchased a whole ass electronic fingerprint lock instead of a key or combination one. That must have been one hell of a conversation with his parents. Taemin opens his bedroom door and gestures Jonghyun inside with a silent flourish and a huge grin, one Jonghyun returns as he curtsies gratefully and flounces inside like a delicate princess.

Then he tosses his phone onto Taemin’s bed and shrugs out of his jacket and jeans, doing his best not to stumble around and curse when his foot gets stuck. Taemin isn't doing much better; Jonghyun hears more than sees him bang his knee on his dresser as he makes his way to the bed.

Still, they manage to fall into bed together without making too much noise, and Jonghyun gets comfortable with his right arm under Taemin’s head. He picks up his phone and goes back to his Instagram post, typing out a summary of his night so he'll be able to look back on it another time when he isn't feeling as good. Taemin grumbles at the brightness and turns his face into Jonghyun’s shoulder, pulling his blankies up high over them.

Ruffling Taemin’s hair gently, dropping a tiny kiss to the top of his head, Jonghyun finishes his post, sends it, and then puts his phone on power save mode so it doesn't die during their little snooze. Then he curls up on his side, wrapping his other arm around Taemin’s waist and tangling their legs together. He always likes sleeping with Taemin. It's so easy for them to be comfortable next to each other.

“I hope you dream about playing guitar with Junghee on the pier at sunset,” Taemin whispers to him. It takes a moment for that sentence to process in Jonghyun’s brain, but when it does, his heart swells and he squeezes Taemin that much closer, that much tighter. That's so sweet.

“Thanks,” he whispers back. “I hope you dream about dancing with Taeyeon and then you both have the sweatiest hug imaginable.”

“Hell yeah,” Taemin giggles. “Nighty-night.”

“Nighty-night.” And Jonghyun isn't feeling particularly sleepy, actually, but here, with Taemin, he can still close his eyes and let his brain turn off for a little bit, maybe doze for a little while, and that's more than he gets with anyone else.

#jongtae #jonghyun #taemin #jjongsmonth #rollercoasterwrite #fluff #oneshot #pg #ydw #I didn't write the sequel but I do think about it a whole lot #but long story short jung sees his Instagram post and sends him $1000 and is like hey come see our concert:-)#he wakes up to it and nuts and when taemin wakes up he shows Taemin and Taemin nuts #th go see the concert and then like 3 years later theyre roadies : )

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jinkisbelly · 6 years ago

Text

Divination 1/?

Hi, this is a big au that I started writing like early 2015, but I’ve been rewriting and reworking it for jjongsmonth that @rollarscoasterwrite is doing again this year, so ^^ 2K18 jjongmonth if interested Ao3 link AFF Link

Pairing: Jongyu

Rating: Pg-13, for violence and talk of past death

w/c: 4k

Summary: After both of his older brothers are assassinated, Prince Jinki must return home to take the throne. Given the circumstances, he’s given a new, special guard. Jonghyun Kim of Jyee

The beautifully gilded walls of the ballroom may have been draped in fine fabrics and precious jewels, but as Jinki stood just to the left of his father’s throne, he thought them to be utterly boring to look at. He also thought that the endless line of guards around the perimeter was a bit overkill. He sighed quietly and ran his hands over the black of his mourning garments. It was odd to not have his brothers beside him, the vacant space cold and deafening. There was a small part of him that wished for the feeling of something missing to disappear, but the bigger part of him didn’t want to be used to the feeling of not having his brothers with him.

Growing up they hadn’t always gotten along. Jaeho and Jiwoon had been bigger, taller and stronger than he. Part of it was them being years older than him, but the rest was because he had inherited something thought lost in their bloodline. Magic. Instead of playing in the mud outside and learning to ride horses and sword fighting, he was stuck up in the Wizard’s Keep with the almost ancient being he even called Master to the day. Training, learning. What powers he had, the limitations of the ones discovered, and what they meant for the good of the Kingdom and his family. If he tried hard enough, he could hear Jaeho teasing him as he read a book instead of working with the Master at Arms like them. So many afternoons spent under the shade of a tree, watching as his brothers learned to fight with different weapons, getting a feel of the one for them, and eventually mastering them. A whole lot of good the mastery did them though, he thought bitterly.

He glanced over at his father softly. It seemed like overnight the years deepened the lines on his face. Sure, it had been a few years since he had been home, spending his time in the far land of Bochlis exploring the ancient tomes and scrolls kept protected there, but it surely hadn’t been that long for the grey in his beard to appear so greatly.. Had it? Then again, losing not only the son meant for the throne, but the second as well, had to be devastating in a way Jinki only partly understood. He wishes he was still in Bochlis, surrounded by so many ancient magical artifacts and tomes. For if he was, his brothers would have to still be alive.

When his father stood, he turned his attention to the center of the room. Approaching was a pair of men. One he recognized as the Captain of the Castle guard, Eunhyuk. The other, he didn’t know, and that fascinated him. The man was dressed simply in dark clothes with an open collar of his shirt. There was a sword at his hip and a dagger poking from one of his knee-high boots. The tiny bit of heel on the boots made Jinki want to smile. Finally, something interesting.

Eunhyuk and the mystery man deeply bowed in the presence of their King, and Jinki pushed down the urge to raise his eyebrow when the attention quickly shifted to himself. Eunhyuk looked back at the King as he informed him, “I have acquired what you wished for, Your Majesty.”

“As always, I thank you for your diligence Eunhyuk.” Jinki’s gaze snapped to his father when he was gestured to, “Come forward Son.”

He let his hands fall from where they had been held in front of him, and bowed his head respectfully. “Yes, Father?”

“Given the recent circumstance, I’ve increased the strength of your guard.”

“I am quite aware of that, Father, for I seemingly have an entire regiment outside my door every night.” He completely ignored the way his father was glaring at him.

“I have lost two of my children and I will not lose my last. This is your new personal guard.” The King’s hand was gesturing to the Mystery Man. “He is to go everywhere with you, do you understand Son?”

Jinki flicked his gaze to the man carefully before taking the few steps down to the main floor. As he approached the man, he was pleasantly surprised to find him bowing and offering his hand up. He was looking at Jinki with warm eyes, expecting. Hesitantly, he took the offered hand and studied the way a kiss was pressed to his knuckles in a way no one had done since news of his power spread. “Jonghyun Kim of Jyee. It’s a pleasure to serve you, Your Highness.”

“It seems we shall see just how great of a pleasure it is, Jonghyun Kim of Jyee.”

-----

Jinki still wasn’t sure what to make of the man. He could sense something about him, different, than the other guards that stood outside of his door. He couldn’t put a finger on it, not yet anyway, but he knew whatever It was, was the reason the number of guards outside his room and following him around the castle had decreased dramatically. For the first time in weeks he might add, no matter how often he requested them to leave him alone beforehand.

As they stepped into his rooms, he gestured toward the hallway that led to the left directly from the door. “Down there are a few rooms that could be converted into living quarters for you should you require them. Otherwise, your room would be located in the barracks in the Southern Wing of the Castle.”

“If you don’t mind sharing your little wing, I would prefer to be closer to you if the need arise for me to get here quickly when I’m off duty, Your Highness.”

Jinki quirked his eyebrow up, “Do you foresee me needing your assistance in the middle of the night frequently, Jonghyun?”

“Anything is possible, Your Highness. Have to be prepared.”

-----

He closed his eyes as he barely brushed his fingertips over the clothes of Jaeho’s, neatly tucked away in his closet, skin tingling as a memory associated with it descended over him. Laughter spilled tea, and stumbling because of the whiskey poured into the delicate teacup when their tutor wasn’t looking. Jinki smiled softly, remembering the very few shared lessons. Ettique. When he opened his eyes he realized he was touching the shirt he had gotten Jaeho for his 18th birthday. He swallowed thickly before letting his hand fall. Being able to feel the memories tied to items was a blessing, and a curse, wrapped in a tight little bow.

Jonghyun was across the room, leaning against the wall by the far window. His arms were crossed over his chest, eyes gazing out of the glass toward the back courtyard and the ponds in the gardens. If he noticed the silent tears falling from Jinki’s cheeks, he made no sign or mention, and Jinki was grateful for it. He wiped his eyes with the sleeves of his overcoat, taking a deep breath to center himself. When he opened his eyes again, Jonghyun’s gaze was directly on him. Interesting enough, Jinki couldn’t read him. He turned a little so he was facing the new guard fully. “Tell me, Jonghyun, what made you accept this position?”

An eyebrow quirked up as the man straightened, “You really had no idea I was being employed, did you, Your Highness?”

“None in the slightest.”

“Interesting.”

“Quite.” He hummed softly. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Ah, yes. I apologize, Your Highness.” Jonghyun shrugged, right hand resting on the hilt of his sword on his hip casually. “I have certain qualifications that your father was looking for and the pay is quite nice compared to my previous employment.”

“So you’ve been,” He cleared his throat as he waved his hand in the air gently. “Informed? Of what I am that is.”

“I can’t say I completely understand the question, Your Highness.” Jonghyun’s head was slightly cocked to the side as he continued. “You’re the crowned prince, the future king. My Charge.”

“I am fascinated by the idea that you hold something so special that my Father seems to think you can protect me better than I can on my own.” Jinki smiled gently before he was turning away, walking out of the door. He knew Jonghyun was following by the soft vibrations of his boots against the wood of the floors. Down the hall from Jaeho��s rooms was a walkway that led to his own rooms across the bridge in the Northern Tower of the castle. Jonghyun seemed to be keeping up well enough, from what he could tell without looking behind him. His bedroom door was opened with a flick of his finger and he turned to the right through the doorway that was his library of sorts. A few dozen paces more and he paused in front of a cobblestone wall between to bookcases that rose to the high ceilings.

“Your Highness?” Jonghyun’s voice was a light, a bit out of breath.

Jinki grinned. “After you, Jonghyun.”

“That’s a wall, Sir.”

“I suppose it is,” He gently pushed his hand against it, chuckling when Jonghyun’s eyes widened as his hand went straight through. “From a certain point of view.”

“I should warn you that magic doesn’t-” Jinki curled his hand around Jonghyun’s wrist and tugged him behind him, through the wall. Jonghyun blinked as the light shifted. He turned to look at the... Whatever it was and his eyes widened. “I didn’t expect that to work.”

“You were saying something about magic?”

He whipped his head around to focus on him in the dim light of the room. “Nothing, Your Majesty.” He cleared his throat. “What is this place?”

“My safe place.” He quickly replied. He rose his hand and the light in the room brightened. “And when I asked about what you were told about me, I meant this. That I’m a wizard. The first in the royal family in a hundred years.”

“I was.”

“Were you told of all of my powers?”

Jonghyun walked along the curve of the opposite wall, gently running a fingertip over the displays. “I was given a scroll. I’m quite well read on you, Your Highness. I doubt the King would allow me to guard you solely as I am now if I wasn’t well prepared.”

“I’m almost flattered.” Jinki chirped quietly moving towards the stack of books near the couch against the wall. “I have a scroll.”

“Doesn’t everything important have one somewhere, Your Highness?”

He didn’t respond until he was rested on his couch, the tome on his lap. As it was opened to the page he needed, he glanced up at Jonghyun. “That would require my Father to have deemed me important before my brothers’ passings.”

Jonghyun opened his mouth for a moment before softly shutting it. Jinki was well aware of his movements around the room, even if he didn’t raise his gaze from the words he was reading. Until he heard Jonghyun’s voice again, “Why do you have this place? What in here needs to be hidden?”

“What makes you think its purpose is for hiding something?”

“The magic wall-that’s-not-really-a-wall, Your Highness.”

Jinki chuckled quietly, putting his hand palm down on the book and looking up. “I created this room when I was thirteen. The room existed, but instead of that mirage, you see there was a normal doorway. If anything in here needs to be hidden, it was me and always has been. I don’t belong here.”

“Here?”

“This castle, this Kingdom. I was never meant to be King.” Jinki tapped his ring-covered fingers on the thick, rough pages of the book as he thought about his choice of words. “If my brothers were still alive, I’d still be deep within the archives of Bochlis.”

“I’ve been there once,” Jonghyun commented. “As a young boy. The monks there helped me. The most I remember from being inside was that the bookshelves seemed to go up and on forever like I’d never reach the end if I tried.”

“I have tried,” Jinki smirked, “And they don’t end. Or, well, I hadn’t reached it in the three years I was there.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, Your Highness,” Jonghyun finally looked over at him then, hands clasped behind his back. “If you feel like an outsider in your own home, why accept your claim to the throne?”

“I won’t mind if you allow me to ask you something of my own, Jonghyun.” When the man bowed his head in acceptance, Jinki continued. “In the scroll, you were given of me, how in depth did it go into my early life?”

“Vaguely. Mostly ages of when certain powers were known to develop.”

“My mother died giving birth to me and while my Father has been the only one to outright blame me for it, I knew my brothers felt the same way. They were kinder in that sense to never verbally tell me so.” He leaned his head back against the couch, eyes fluttering for a moment before he began to talk again and found Jonghyun’s gaze. “When I developed my first power my father was so startled he called me a demon. I was only three, levitation of objects. It had been so long since a Wizard was born to the Royal Family he questioned my origins if he was my father. Being that I’m a spitting image of his own father, his doubts were quickly extinguished.”

“Your Highness, you don’t have-”

Jinki shook his head, “If you are to guard me as my Father requires than you need to know, really understand who I am. What makes me who I am. I am not the rightful King. Jaeho was. I am a consolation prize. To answer your question, I accepted my claim to the throne in the small hope that for once I wouldn’t be a disappointment to my Father, to my bloodline that has sat on the throne of this kingdom for the last fifteen generations before me. For some reason, his opinion of me matters deeply to me still.”

Jonghyun was silent for a long time then, jaw tense and lips pressed together in a firm line. When he finally spoke, his eyes were hard. “I may only have known you for a few days and my opinion may not mean much, but I have a great history of reading people. I must say, Your Highness, I doubt you’re the consolation prize you view yourself as.”

For once, Jinki didn’t have a snappy comeback. Instead, opting to stare at the back of Jonghyun’s head as the man turned to flip through one of the tomes on the bookcase he had stopped in front of.

Interesting, indeed. He wasn’t sure why he had opened up and revealed so much of his past to a man he had only known for a few days, not for certain, but if everything worked out he would be around the man for a significant amount of time. If he was honest with himself he half expected Jonghyun to either laugh or walk back out the magic wall when he was finished answering his question. What kind of King had a complex about needing his Father’s approval? A bad one. That’s the correct answer. The entire situation intrigued him immensely and his fingers twitched against the book he had yet to continue to read.

-----

It felt right to have the white, soft flowy fabric over him again. The darkness of his mourning clothes felt suffocating. He knew their purpose and the respect wearing them meant, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t glad when the public mourning period ended. He was fastening his dagger to his thigh when he heard the soft clacks of Jonghyun’s boots coming down the distant hall. Sure enough, once he finished and had looked up the man was ascending the few stairs that led to the breakfast nook he was standing in. Jonghyun bowed slightly at the waist in greeting, “Good Morning, Your Highness.”

“Good Morning, Jonghyun. How did you sleep?”

“Soundly.”

“Good. You’ll need it.”

Jonghyun’s gloved hands were resting on the hilt of his sword casually once again, a habit Jinki had quickly pinned him for. “Are we going somewhere of dire danger this morning, Your Highness?”

“Nothing too dire I hope.” He wrinkled his nose, brushing his hands over the fabric of his shirt. Once satisfied he was ready, he let his hands fall to his sides. “I haven’t been to the Wizard’s keep by the bay since just before I first left for Bochlis. My Master, there is expecting me.”

“That doesn’t exactly sound dangerous, Your Highness.”

“In theory? It isn’t.” Jinki walked over to the small table on the left side just down the set of steps. He wiggled each ring onto his fingers quickly and familiar as he continued, looking around the room for his cloak. “However, to reach the keep, one must travel around the cliff multiple times up a steep incline. The path is also too narrow for more than two horses to walk beside each other comfortably.”

“Ah, you’re worried about an ambush.”

“There is no reason to believe that whoever wished my brothers dead don’t also wish that fate on me. Just stay vigilant, Jonghyun.”

“Always, Your Highness.”

Jinki paused in clasping his cloak to send a little smile in Jonghyun’s direction. “Good. Come, My Master is expecting me before High Noon tea. We must make haste.”

-----

Jonghyun looked up the rock and grass of the cliff’s edge for a moment before returning to watch the dust of the path billow as their horses moved forward. “Your Highness?”

The young Prince turned, eyes slow to find his. There was a kind smile on his face, the breeze blowing softly past them. “Yes, Jonghyun?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know why they chose to build the keep here of all places, would you?” He adjusted his hands on his reins as he continued. “It just seems far too dangerous for the inhabitants to travel down for supplies to live.”

“I just so happen do.” The Prince’s attire was different than he had seen in the two weeks he had worked for him. He supposed today was the first day out of mourning. He looked more at ease, relaxed than in days past. His body wasn’t as tense, his hands gently holding the reins in his lap, his feet swinging just a little in the stirrups. “Back during the Wizard Wars some hundred years ago, when the last Wizard King sat upon the throne, they decided to move the keep somewhere safer. This location was chosen because of how hard it was to reach it. The path up is too narrow for cannons or wagons, and very few soldiers could stand in a row as they marched up. Before the fear that the knowledge and artifacts that are housed here now would fall into enemy hands, the keep used to be in the Northern Tower connected to the Castle. My rooms.”

“This keep has stood untouched for a hundred years?”

“Mostly. Right before my Eldest brother was born a rogue Wizard managed to break the defenses and scale the tower. If you look to the back of the tower, toward the sea, you can still see the scorch marks from where their spell backfired.”

“Spell, Your Highness?”

“They tried to translocate the entire attic of the Keep.” Jinki hummed as he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing fallen strands back softly. “The spell backfired because it meddled with a very powerful artifact kept up there. The different schools of magic, the aura around them, didn’t mix and in consequence, the spell blew up in their hands. They flew out over the edge of the cliff and fell into the rocks in the sea below.”

“That’s awful.”

“Oh, Completely. My master once told me how there were adept Wizards were sent to clean up the scene. He described it in way too much detail for an eleven-year-old to hear.” Jinki shook his head slightly, before pressing his lips together. “Gruesome.”

“That’s even more awful, Your Highness.”

“Well-” Abruptly the man stopped speaking, eyes squinting as they peered across the path. His hand was on his dagger on his thigh a moment later. “We have company.”

Jonghyun followed his lead and dismounted. He pulled his sword from the scabbard, fingers flexing on the hilt. He took a few steps until he was next to Jinki. He didn’t fail to notice the bright light swirling around his left hand. His question died on his lips as men jumped up from the path’s edge, armed to the teeth. He turned to relay a plan to Jinki, but the man had already rushed forward to meet their attackers. He hissed a curse before joining him.

He realized that Jinki had the two he was fighting handled easily, swiping low and knocking the two men off balance with his right leg, air swirling under them as they landed and tossing them a few dozen feet in the air as Jinki straightened once again. The men crashed into the dirt with loud groans and didn’t move to get up as Jinki turned to the next. Jonghyun blinked before focusing on the closest attacker to himself.

The small group of soldiers that had been sent with them were doing their best to aid them while trying to keep the horses and themselves out of the line of fire. The battle blurred together for Jonghyun, the sounds of metal scraping against metal, the snap and sizzle of Jinki’s magic. He was disarming one of the last men in front of him when he saw the Sorceress by the edge, lips moving just as quick as her hands as she focused. He quickly disposed of his attacker, twisting around the back of another and slid between her and Jinki, hand held out. As the spell came rushing to him, it backfired, ricocheting off his palm and barreling toward the woman. She flew over the edge of the cliff with a scream.

Just like that, the attack ended as quickly as it arrived. He was about to turn around to check on Jinki when he felt an arm tight around his waist and the cool metal of a blade against his throat. Jinki’s voice was deep as he hissed against his ear. “You’re a lithe.”

“I am.”

“Were you sent to kill me?”

He rose his hands slowly, making a point to drop his sword where Jinki could see. “The King knows. Me being a Lithe is the reason I was hired. To protect you against magic users.”

“Am I supposed to trust you after this was kept from me?”

Jonghyun swallowed thickly, the dagger against his throat a little too close for comfort. “I thought you were told, Your Highness. I mean you no harm, I promise.”

For a few, slow and almost deadly moments, the blade was kept against his throat. Then it was removed and Jinki stepped back, letting him go. When Jonghyun turned around, slowly picking up his sword to return it to his scabbard, Jinki was moving to wipe his dagger with a dark cloth he had in his other hand. He looked up then, hair falling into his eyes, “If you ever decided to try to use my magic against me, just know I can gut you like a fish.”

“Point taken, Your Highness.”

Jinki sighed then as he put his dagger away, eyes closing for just a moment before he bowed his head. “My apologies for that. It startled me and I was defensive.”

Jonghyun rubbed his neck absentmindedly. “You’re forgiven, Your Highness. I should have told you what I was.”

The Prince smiled then, juxtaposed to the deadly expression he had just wielded. A soldier handed him the reins to their horses and he held out Jonghyun’s. “Let’s get going. There may be more.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

-----

#jongyu #onjong #jjongsmonth #shinee #jonghyun #onew #wizard au #my fic

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