.:World'sMostBeautifulSecret:.

Jan. 25, 2012 at 1:11pm with 3,123 notes

Reblogged from cassiesfohlife

When Jaejoong first met Yunho, he never thought much of him. He was far too thin, didn’t have many friends, and his eyebrows looked like they’d never seen a tweeze in their long and weary lives. When Yun had asked him to form a band, he’d laughed and thought, ‘What a waste of time.’; sure, they’d both shared a passion for music, but the chances of ever sharing a successful music career in a place like Korea were slim to none. Now Jae sat across the small china table from Yunho, eating every cynical thought he’d ever had toward him and his dreams. They, along with Junsu, Changmin, and Yoonchun, were not only sharing a successful career in music, they were sharing the most successful music in Korea. Needless to say, those weren’t the only first impressions he’d be wrong of.
Jae and Yunho sit quietly eating breakfast at the cafe down the street, only known for how terrible the food is. It was perfect because not many people came and Yunho had a thing for awful cuisine. Jaejoong would never order anything but he always insisted on tagging along anyway. Everyday around 5 AM, before anyone had time to rise and while these particular back roads of Seoul were silent as a ghost town, Jae would follow Yunho out the door of their flat and toward the shack. And every morning Jaejoong would think the same thing. He’d watch in silence as Yunho would scarf down the last of his greasy noodles, watch his fingers wrap around the utensils like a dance. He’d observe the way his lips moved when he talked to the waiter and the way his muscles would flex beneath his shirt when he’d reach across the table to grab the salt. Every morning Jae wonders what it must be like to touch and feel what’s underneath that shirt. Every morning he thinks, today I’m going to tell him. Today I’m going to kiss him.
Instead he just watches. Every now and then Yunho will catch his stare and Jae will swear he can see the faint hint of a smile on his lips, as if to say, I know what you’re thinking, I know what you want.

When Jaejoong first met Yunho, he never thought much of him. He was far too thin, didn’t have many friends, and his eyebrows looked like they’d never seen a tweeze in their long and weary lives. When Yun had asked him to form a band, he’d laughed and thought, ‘What a waste of time.’; sure, they’d both shared a passion for music, but the chances of ever sharing a successful music career in a place like Korea were slim to none. Now Jae sat across the small china table from Yunho, eating every cynical thought he’d ever had toward him and his dreams. They, along with Junsu, Changmin, and Yoonchun, were not only sharing a successful career in music, they were sharing the most successful music in Korea. Needless to say, those weren’t the only first impressions he’d be wrong of.

Jae and Yunho sit quietly eating breakfast at the cafe down the street, only known for how terrible the food is. It was perfect because not many people came and Yunho had a thing for awful cuisine. Jaejoong would never order anything but he always insisted on tagging along anyway. Everyday around 5 AM, before anyone had time to rise and while these particular back roads of Seoul were silent as a ghost town, Jae would follow Yunho out the door of their flat and toward the shack. And every morning Jaejoong would think the same thing. He’d watch in silence as Yunho would scarf down the last of his greasy noodles, watch his fingers wrap around the utensils like a dance. He’d observe the way his lips moved when he talked to the waiter and the way his muscles would flex beneath his shirt when he’d reach across the table to grab the salt. Every morning Jae wonders what it must be like to touch and feel what’s underneath that shirt. Every morning he thinks, today I’m going to tell him. Today I’m going to kiss him.

Instead he just watches. Every now and then Yunho will catch his stare and Jae will swear he can see the faint hint of a smile on his lips, as if to say, I know what you’re thinking, I know what you want.