the place promised in our early days [part II]
part I
“Oh man!”
Hyukjae laughs.
“Aww, come on. One last time.”
“I’ve already won four out of five. You really think you have a chance?”
A stubborn chin and Donghae sticks his hand out again. Hyukjae sighs and does the same.
“Hah! Now it’s five out of six!”
Donghae sighs dejectedly and grabs a box from the floor and turns to his room. Hyukjae watches him sulk with a smile on his face before making his way into the corner room of the apartment silently thanking Shindong for all those games of rock paper scissors over the years.
-
Moving in is easy, Hyukjae has always thought. It’s just unpacking things that make up a life in a way so they fit and bend into the corners and ceilings where that life will be held. Clothes always go in drawers, pictures on walls, toothbrush in the bathroom.
It’s actually getting used to living in a new house what takes time. Hyukjae had thought moving in with Donghae would make it easier, in fact it’s kind of the point of why they are living together. It’s on the first night he realizes just how kind of wrong he is.
They spend most of the Saturday unpacking and fighting over what to order for dinner-Hyukjae gives in and they order Vietnamese-. By the time he hits the sheets that night he’s exhausted but he spends the first few minutes rolling over soft cotton sheets like he hasn’t since he was six and feeling a sense of giddiness wash over him.
“What are you doing?”
Hyukjae freezes and looks at Donghae over his shoulder. Tilting his head, Donghae stands against Hyukjae’s bedroom door, a weird smile tugging at his lips.
“Uhhh.” Hyukjae feels ridiculous. Which is even more ridiculous because Donghae has been caught doing far more embarrassing things without an ounce of shame.
Donghae doesn’t wait for an answer and pads in to the room, his bare feet soundless against the carpet.
“What are you doing?” Hyukjae echoes Donghae’s question watching him lift the covers and slide underneath them. He takes his time fluffing a pillow and Hyukjae kicks him. “Donghae!”
“I’m going to sleep Hyukjae,” Donghae finally answers, looking relaxed against Hyukjae’s sheets.
“I see that,” Hyukjae says carefully, narrowing his eyes. “Why here and not, oh I don’t know, in your own room?”
Donghae’s eyes are closed when he says, “Your bed is comfier.”
“No it isn’t. We have the exact same mattress. You were there when we bought them. Go back to your room,” Hyukjae tries to shove him out, but Donghae doesn’t budge. “Donghae! Donghae, what the hell?” he shakes his shoulder, but Donghae is already asleep.
Hyukjae gapes at Donghae for a few seconds but decides to just leave him be figuring Donghae is having trouble sleeping and doesn’t want to admit it.
Around sunrise, Hyukjae wakes up, his face inches from Donghae’s and drifts back to sleep while the first ray’s of the sun play across Donghae’s cheekbones.
-
“Donghae, we don’t need ten bags of ramen. Shindong doesn’t live with us anymore remember?”
Donghae grins and sets half the chicken flavored bags back. He grabs a black bean one, stops, blinks twice and grabs a second one and dumps them all into the grocery cart Hyukjae is pushing. Donghae had been pushing it previously but decided to hand it over after almost knocking over a cereal display pyramid. They eat a bag of barbecue flavored chips as they peruse aisles. Neither has been grocery shopping in a long time but now they are on their own and make do picking on what looks good.
“Look,” Donghae says in the cereal aisle. “Strawberry flakes,” he reads off the box in his hands in his heavily accented English. He shows Hyukjae the box and throws it into the cart along with a box of Choco Rice Krispies.
-
Living with one person as opposed to twelve, ten, eight, five, is that there is always leftover coffee in the morning, only two sets of keys leaving dents in the entry way table and no Cineplex long lines to use the bathroom.
They set up a system. Donghae makes sure they are up on time. Hyukjae makes the coffee. If they are both home, meals are made together. A coin is flipped to see who washes and who dries the dishes.
The problem with it just being the two of them is that there is no one to pick up the slack and it usually ends in chaos.
One morning, Hyukjae wakes to the sun shinning a little brighter, car engines and birds chirping louder. He guesses Donghae must be up as well so he makes some coffee and jumps in to the shower. He’s up to his ears in lather when the bathroom door slams open and Donghae screams, “I’m late!”
Hyukjae barely has time to blink before the shower door is slid open and a very naked Donghae is shoving him aside and stepping beneath the shower head.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Donghae demands. His hands reach for the bar of soap which he rolls between his palms a few times before he starts sliding it across his chest and arms. “I have to be in the studio in less than an hour!”
Hyukjae blinks a few times as Donghae’s hands slide down his torso, wondering if he’s dreaming. Or having a nightmare, he isn’t sure which. “Donghae. Donghae I’m in the fucking shower. Are you crazy?”
“Aww come on. You and Sungmin used to shower together all the time,” Donghae tilts his head, water rolling down his neck all the way down to his navel washing the streaks of soap. Donghae’s hands have reached his hips, soapy hands roaming in circles and Hyukjae thinks that Sungmin did not have a body like Donghae’s does and soap certainly did not glisten on his body the way it does on Donghae’s. Or at least, Hyukjae never noticed.
“The fuck,” Hyukjae curses before storming out of the shower with Donghae yelling, “You’ve still got soap on you!”
Hyukjae screams just as he slips and slides into the hall on his ass.
-
Donghae makes up for the bathroom incident by cooking dinner that night. He washes up by himself and lets Hyukjae hog the remote. Hyukjae lies on the couch, his head resting on Donghae’s stomach, soft hands running through his hair and Hyukjae thinks distractedly that maybe he can get used to this.
-
The third room is turned in to a small studio since there is a gym a block away from the apartment. Packed with the essential sound equipment, Donghae locks himself in there when he isn’t filming or doing a photo-shoot. Music has sort of taken a back seat for Hyukjae, his career centered on hosting and radio DJ-ing. He still dances and even choreographs routines for SM’s amateur groups but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss singing at times. He knows his voice has never been the best, far from it, but he can’t help but get the itch to do so every often. Donghae is still immersed in it, singing, writing lyrics and composing the sounds to sing them to, and Hyukjae hates how he sometimes envies him for it. Berates himself every time he doesn’t genuinely smile when Donghae says he has new lyrics to show him or a new song for him to hear.
“Hyukjae!”
Hyukjae finishes typing up his email and follows the direction of Donghae’s voice.
“Yeah?”
Donghae waves him inside the dark but brightly lit room and Hyukjae takes the seat next to his.
“I’m having trouble with these lyrics,” Donghae says not looking up from the paper scattered with his hand writing. “I feel like it’s missing something.” He makes a mark on a line and finally looks up at Hyukjae. “You’ve always been better at this than me. Mind giving me a hand?”
Hyukjae doesn’t realize he is nodding, words already floating and twisting around each other in his mind with just a glance of the title Donghae has scribbled at the top. They throw ideas back and forth at each other, figuring out what works and what doesn’t. It’s much like the times they’ve worked on songs before, giving and taking until they reach a middle ground.
Hyukjae swivels in his chair, face contorted in concentration while Donghae tosses a ball, squeezing it whenever a line pops into his head. A few hours and they’re both satisfied, Hyukjae smiling at the sense of pride at seeing his own words mixed and twisted with Donghae’s. The smile, however, is wiped off when Donghae asks him to sing.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s your song. You should sing it.”
“Now it’s our song,” Donghae corrects him and doesn’t give Hyukjae any time for rebuttal as he makes him stand and pushes him towards the mic. “I need to hear it.”
“That’s what the recorder is for,” Hyukjae snaps. He’s missed singing, but actually having the excuse to makes him nervous. It’s just Donghae, he tells himself. That only makes things worse.
“Please, Hyuk,” holding out the headphones, Donghae pouts earnestly and Hyukjae feels his resolve crumble. That’s how it is with him. Hyukjae always gives in, leans towards, his no’s always turn into yes’s. Donghae always gives before Hyukjae even asks.
When he starts to sing his voice is low and shaky but Donghae says nothing and just lets his vocal chords get used to coming out of disuse. He cringes when his voice is about to crack but instead of giving up he keeps going, Donghae’s envelops him like the words he’s singing.
He starts again, getting lost to the soft music and for a while he forgets it’s his own voice that’s echoing in his ears and amplified against the walls. When he finishes the song smoothly, Donghae doesn’t say anything and yet the smile he gives him is so big and bright Hyukjae finds he doesn’t need anything else.
“I missed hearing your voice,” Donghae says a while later, sitting on the floor of the living room. He is met with a skeptical snort and Donghae laughs. “I’m serious. You used to rap all the time, but you almost never got to sing.”
Hyukjae shrugs, looking down at Donghae from the couch as he balances one leg tucked beneath himself and swings the other back and forth. The swinging stops when Donghae grabs his knee, fingers kneading at the tension there and Hyukjae relaxes into the couch.
“I never told you this but,” Donghae smiles like he is about to say something embarrassing and the tension in Hyukjae’s knee comes back. “You remember that solo of yours. The one that was just you and K.R.Y. on our second album?” Hyukjae nods, Donghae’s hand increasing pressure. “Well, whenever we where in China for a long time I’d listen to it on repeat.”
“Why would you do that?” Hyukjae’s voice is quiet and astonished, small as a breeze trying to freeze a hot summer.
“Why,” Donghae echoes, drawing the word out over his tongue. He props his elbow on the couch and rests his head in his palm, body leaning slightly on Hyukjae’s leg. “It’s like. You know how when you’re a kid and you have a blanket or a stuffed animal you take everywhere with you. It’s your comfort, it brings you security and when you’re without it you feel lost or sad. So you drag it everywhere and even if it gets dirty and ugly, you still don’t let your mom take it away from you so she can wash it.” Donghae’s fingers are relaxed now, palm moving slowly up and down Hyukjae’s knee. “That’s what your voice is to me. Whenever I felt homesick or stressed or I just missed Korea, I’d listen to it and not feel so bad anymore.” He squeezes Hyukjae’s knee one last time and lets go. Donghae smiles again, sheepishly and Hyukjae frowns at the faint color tinting his cheeks. “Dumb, right?”
Hyukjae doesn’t have a chance to answer. Donghae is already getting up, smile tight. “Well I’m going to bed. Last day tomorrow and I have to be in there early. Night.”
The city is much alive outside; Hyukjae can hear its sounds bouncing off the walls. But he can’t hear much of anything trying to remember how that song went and finding that even though it hasn’t been that long since he last sang it, he can’t remember.
-
“Is that the wife?” Shindong asks, peering over Hyukjae’s shoulder at his cellphone.
Hyukjae rolls his eyes and snaps his phone shut. Out of all the members, Shindong is the one he sees regularly-other than Donghae, but that’s unavoidable isn’t it?- often meeting at various t.v. stations.
“I’m just kidding Hyuk. No need to get your panties in a bunch,” Shindong huffs and settles back into his seat.
Slumping in his seat, Hyukjae looks around, phone clenched in his fist. Since Donghae’s drama ended filming he’s had less work to do and way too much free time on his hands because he spends a good chunk of that time texting Hyukjae. Nothing new, Donghae has always taken to incessant texting but the frequency and content is what’s different. If Hyukjae was eating enough. If he was taking the required breaks. If he felt the make up the noonas applied was clogging his pores. And to top it off, Shindong is almost always there to read them. And mock him of course.
“He’s just bored,” Hyukjae says suddenly.
“Huh?”
“Oh sorry not you Jokwon ssi.” Hyukjae says quickly, and Jokwon raises an eyebrow and sharply turns in the other direction.
“What are you going on about now?” Shindong asks distractedly playing with his phone.
“Donghae. He’s just bored.”
“Uh huh.”
“He is,” Hyukjae insists. “Besides he always sends messages like that to the members.”
Shindong looks up, raising an eyebrow much like Jokwon just had. “Donghae has never sent a message like that to me.”
“That’s ‘cause he doesn’t like you. He’s always been a little scared of you, hyung,” Hyukjae smirks.
Shindong is about to answer but the p.a. tells them they’re about to go back on air and he never gets the chance.
-
“I miss them sometimes,” Donghae says one day as Hyukjae is passing by his room on the way to the washroom next to the kitchen. Hyukjae stops, basket toppling over with clothes balanced on his hip.
“The others. Don’t you?” Donghae’s head hangs off the edge of his bed, feet resting on the headboard.
Hyukjae purses his lips, thinking it over. Does he really miss all the noise? Waking up when he doesn’t have to? Having zero privacy? Not that he has much with Donghae anyways.
“It’s too quiet sometimes,” he says carefully. Truth is, sometimes the quiet is so loud, and he imagines he can hear Leeteuk’s loud laughter blending in to Heechul’s cats meowing. “Yeah. I miss them too,” he amends with a smile and Donghae smiles slowly as well.
Donghae sits up suddenly, startling Hyukjae slightly. “Hey you’re doing laundry,” he announces as if he just noticed. “Mind if I throw some of my stuff in?” He’s too fast and by the time Hyukjae gathers the ‘No, you lazy ass’ on his tongue, Donghae has already stuffed his clothes in the basket and Hyukjae tells himself it’s pointless because he’s never been able to tell his underwear from Donghae’s anyway.
-
Hyukjae shuffles into his apartment at two in the morning and the first thing he does is yell.
“What? What is it?” Donghae runs in holding a baseball bat. His hair is all over the place and his boxers are low on his hips and it’s obvious he’d been asleep.
“What is that?” Hyukjae demands, pointing at the yapping dog at his feet.
The panic dissolves from Donghae’s face. “You yelled cause of that? I thought there was a robber and you were being attacked!”
“And you were gonna bat them to death?”
Donghae relaxes his batter’s stance and smoothly tosses the bat out of sight.
“Donghae,” Hyukjae crosses his arms in front of him. “Why is there a dog in our apartment?”
“Uhmm, because,” Donghae bites his lip obviously trying to make something up and Hyukjae waits just to see what he’ll come up with. “The dog is our butler. That’s why it was there when you opened the door?”
“Donghae!”
“Okay, calm down,” Donghae says, in English, and it’s been years since he’s said that so Hyukjae can’t help but feel a smile fight with his frown. “Jonghyun’s dog finally had her litter and he offered me one and they were so cute and he said he entrusted me with giving her a good home and I couldn’t say no.” His gaze travels to his feet. “My name is Donghae and I have a problem.”
He doesn’t see Hyukjae’s smile break free or the way his eyes soften as he watches Donghae’s hair fall in his eyes.
“She’s a she?” Hyukjae kneels to pet her and she licks his hand, her tongue pink and cool on his skin. “You name her?”
Donghae’s head rises, hearing how sweet Hyukjae’s voice sounds and he approaches them slowly. “I was thinking we could do it together.”
Hyukjae hmms as he gets up, puppy in his arms. “You’re picking up after her. Poo included,” he warns, knowing he’ll probably end up doing it.
Smiling, Donghae kisses him on the check with a loud smacking sound mumbling “thank you” across Hyukjae’s skin at the same time the dog licks his chin.
-
“Don’t look at me with those big eyes. Stop. I said stop.”
“...”
“It won’t- fine,” he gives in finally and lifts Kanga off the floor and onto his bed. She sneak attacks his pillows a few times before getting distracted with the drawstrings of Hyukjae’s sweats at starts to chew. They’re an old pair so he lets her and scratches her between the ears. Hyukjae has quickly gotten used to a third roommate-hard not after once having lived with twelve- and surprisingly Donghae does do most of the work. Feedings. Walks. Scooping up the poo. Hyukjae wouldn’t really mind doing it but if all he has to do is play with her, he’s not going to complain.
“Oh crap! Kanga! You can’t poop in someone’s shoe!”
Roo’s ears pick up at Donghae’s voice and she looks up at Hyukjae with her big eyes.
“Poop in the shoe, Kanga?” Hyukjae coos like a baby. He used to talk to his old dog Choco that way and he’s always had an affinity to speaking to dogs like they are newborns. Or retards, as Kyuhyun put it.
“Here you are,” Donghae appears in the doorway, plastic bag in hand and a scowl on his face. He stands at the foot of the bed staring hard at Kanga, sprawled on Hyukjae’s chest. Hyukjae looks up as well and he can see up Donghae’s t-shirt wondering how often Donghae has been to the gym lately. He can also see up his nose, but Hyukjae doesn’t pay as much attention to that.
A few seconds, and Donghae flops onto the bed, plastic bag dropping to the floor, patting the space between his legs Kanga jumping off Hyukjae’s chest and wagging her tongue at Donghae.
“I’d forgotten how hard taking care of a pet is,” Donghae pets her head tenderly, stroking her fur and the puppy seems to melt under his soft hands.
“It’s been a while since you had Bada,” Hyukjae says, reaching out to scratch her belly.
“Bada,” Donghae smiles, then looks at Hyukjae cautiously. “That was your shoe by the way.”
Hyukjae’s hands still and, after breathing in and out for a second, he resumes petting Kanga on the head, rested on Donghae’s thigh, now. “It’s okay. My fault for leaving them around.”
Donghae smiles at him again and Hyukjae just shrugs. She’s just a puppy after all.
“Uhmm Hyukjae?”
Hyukjae looks up when Donghae’s voice, curious and husky, startling him. Donghae’s gaze darts between Hyukjae’s face and Hyukjae’s hand which has been caressing, not Kanga’s head, but Donghae’s thigh. He freezes before pulling back his hand, a burning sensation picking at his skin.
“I uhhh- sorry. I- Kanga’s head. Not. No Not.”
Donghae stares at him but then gasps and points at Hyukjae’s sweats. “Your pants!”
“Yeah,” Hyukjae says the skin of his palm still feeling white hot to his bones.
“I’ll buy you a new pair,” Donghae promises, tugging at the strings and inadvertently lifting Hyukjae’s hips off the bed.
“They were old. It’s okay. Donghae stop that. Yah!” he yells smacking Donghae’s hands away and feeling out of breath from all the jostling.
“Sorry,” he mumbles before flopping on his back against the mattress.
“Hey,” Hyukjae crawls over to him, pocking Donghae’s side. “You okay?”
“Tired.” Donghae sighs and with eyes closed, he feels around until he finds Hyukjae’s hand. He pulls Hyukjae down until his head is on Donghae’s chest, arm thrown across Hyukjae’s front to keep him there. “When do you have radio?”
“Eleven.”
“Mhmm. Enough time for a nap.”
“Like this?” Hyukjae asks, head cocking back to look at Donghae.
“Just like this,” Donghae answers, snuggling into Hyukjae’s mattress so Hyukjae shifts around as well until he’s really comfortable. Donghae’s heat is nice in the colder autumn days. At some point, Kanga curls up to Hyukjae’s side but by then Hyukjae is fast asleep, Donghae’s heart beat thudding beneath his ear like a lullaby.
-
The lock on the door turns and Hyukjae catches himself right before he doses off.
“Hyukjae’s, what’s with the… Hyukjae?”
“Candle lights burn out you know? Though I guess it’s my fault for lighting them before you got here.” He glares at the birthday cake, candle wax swirling with blue and green frosting.
“You remembered?” Donghae asks, surprise etched with guilt.
“I wanted to surprise you so I didn’t say anything. You said you’d be done with recording early but I should have figured you’d do something after.”
“But you,” Donghae shakes his head, whether to clear his thoughts or the smell of burnt candle, Hyukjae can’t tell. “You always forget.”
“Yeah,” Hyukjae smiles sadly, remembering how Donghae would act like it didn’t bother him when it did. “But it’s okay. I hope you had fun.” Hyukjae shrugs it off and feels a strange sense of embarrassment. He can smell the alcohol coming off Donghae’s clothes and thinks he might throw up.
“God, Hyuk,” Donghae says and falls into a chair at the kitchen table. “I suck. I suck so much,” he mumbles into his hands.
“It’s okay. How were you supposed to know?”
“I should’ve called. Something! I always call and the one time I don’t. I suck. I’m the worst. How can you even look at me? I suck.”
“Hey,” Hyukjae places a hand on Donghae’s shoulder trying to be comforting. “You don’t suck. Well maybe. I don’t know what you were doing at that club.”
“This isn’t funny!” Donghae whines, then slams his hands on the table and looks at the cake determinedly. “Hand me a fork. I’m gonna eat the whole cake.”
“What?” Hyukjae sits next to him watching as Donghae inches the cake towards him. “You don’t have to do that.”
“But you remembered,” Donghae says, amazed, and the way he looks at him makes Hyukjae think that all those years of not remembering were never held against him. “You planned. I’m going to eat that cake.”
“Wait!” Hyukjae stops him. “You need to wish first.” He grabs the leftover candle and the matches but Donghae grabs his hand, his cold palm against Hyukjae’s warm one.
“I don’t need a wish.”
“What? But it’s your birthday!”
“I already have everything I want.”
Hyukjae looks at him skeptically. No one has everything they want. “There has to be something.”
Donghae shakes his head. “I have everything I’ve always wanted, Hyuk. Well,” he smiles, holding a secret in the corners of his mouth. “There is one thing. But I think I may be there halfway so I don’t need to wish on it.”
“What is it?” Hyukjae asks, curiosity biting at him.
“This cake is really good,” Donghae smiles around his second forkful.
“Donghae!” Hyukjae prods, except it comes out muffled around the cake Donghae shoves in his open mouth.
The cake is sugar sweet and settles Hyukjae stomach. He laughs when Donghae gets frosting all over himself, laughs some more when Donghae drops a glob of it on his nose. The kitchen smells like wax and alcohol and sugar mixed in with the striking clock of midnight.
“Donghae?” Hyukjae says after they’ve battled over who gets to eat the fish shaped frosting decoration. They end up splitting it in half.
“Yeah?”
“Happy birthday.”
-
His schedules are canceled so Hyukjae goes home early. The weather is getting progressively cooler; in the middle of fall and during nighttime Hyukjae can see his breath cloud in the air. He hangs up his coat and instead of the toasty warmth he expects, he feels it as hot as summer.
“Donghae? You home? I think there’s something wrong with the thermostat,” he calls out after trying to adjust the temperature and failing.
There is a small sound, half between a whimper and a sigh. Near the couch, Donghae is lying on the floor in his underwear, sweat pooling at his temple and Kanga at his side licking his face.
“Too cold. Therm. Broken. So hot. So. Hot.”
“Oh,” is all Hyukjae says as Donghae bends his knees unknowingly giving Hyukjae a nice view of his crotch. He tries to not look at Donghae’s hands skimming the trails of sweat on the underside of his thighs. Over the years Hyukjae has seen Donghae from being wrapped up in so much fabric he can’t make out his face, to with nothing but his birthday suit on. But looking at Donghae laid out like this, in their apartment, it’s different.
“Hyukjae,” Donghae’s voice is whiny and breathless, immediately snapping Hyukjae’s attention to his face. “I’m so hot.”
“Uhmm. Why don’t you take a cold shower,” he suggests, anything to get Donghae off the floor and stop moaning his name like that.
“I already did!” Kicking his feet like a five year old should make Hyukjae laugh but the way Donghae’s licks his upper lip as he does so dries the laughter in his throat. “Hyukjae?”
“W-what?” Hyukjae asks against his better judgment and over the sound of his heart beating loudly in his ears.
Donghae sits up, his hair a tangled sweaty mess which he slicks back slowly, hands traveling all the way to his nape before dropping to the top of his legs where the fabric of black boxer turns to lightly tanned skin. “Aren’t you hot?”
-
The icy water pelting on Hyukjae’s skin makes him hiss between clenched teeth and his hairs stand on end. He reaches out and turns the water colder. Palms flat against the shower wall, Hyukjae tells himself to breathe and keep his mind blank. After telling Donghae to call the front desk, it hadn’t taken him long to immerse himself in freezing water.
The water rumbles and growls, loud and rushing like the blood beneath Hyukjae’s skin. His palms slip down the wall, slowly aligning with his hips. Fingers itch to move, to touch, to trace. Hyukjae closes his eyes and pictures himself. He sees his hands. His skin, the muscles racked with tension. His hands move. The breath caught in his throat released and being able to breathe again. His eyes going back, back, so far he sees nothing except streaks of broken water drops and shattered reflections.
Hyukjae digs his fingernails in to the wall.
-
“That’s it for tonight. Enjoy our last song, SHINee’s follow up to ‘Zeus’, ‘Click boom click’.”
Hyukjae pulls his headphones and stands for obligatory end of show pictures, still not used to singing off without the signature ‘kiss’ from Kiss The Radio. He’s bowing to the staff members when through the glass he sees Donghae, eyes roaming over pictures of past guests. Rising slowly, Donghae catches his eyes and Hyukjae swallows.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” Hyukjae says, once he’s out of the sound booth.
“I had a meeting with one of the execs, remember? And since your car is in the shop I figured you’d need a ride home.”
The ride is silent, the a/c is seeping through Hyukjae’s clothes but he doesn’t say anything, contenting himself with shivering in his seat. Telling himself he’s an idiot if Donghae doesn’t notice he’s acting weird because he’s never been able to hide how he feels.
Donghae drums his fingers against the steering wheel before he makes an abrupt left and parks in front of a pizzeria. It’s one of those pan-Asian places that put wasabi on a pepperoni pizza. Donghae orders, something utterly disgusting with like anchovies and bean paste, but Hyukjae stuffs his face with three slices five minutes after it arrives.
“What?” Hyukjae asks at Donghae openly staring at him. He doesn’t even flinch when Donghae reaches out to wipe his chin with a napkin, too busy grabbing a fourth slice. “I’m starving. Haven’t eaten since breakfast,” he explains when Donghae keeps staring.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Donghae chastises, muffled by his own bite of pizza.
Hyukjae snorts and throws his napkin at him. Donghae squawks outraged and retaliates with a pizza crust. A glare from the owner keeps Hyukjae from smashing a slice in Donghae’s face deciding to eat it instead. Donghae chokes on his drink laughing and Hyukjae is pretty sure he sees the owner heave a sigh of relief when they leave.
“Ah. There it is.”
“Hmm?” Hyukjae asks, huge smile still plastered on his face.
Donghae grins, slipping his hands in his pockets. “Your smile. It’s been a few days since it’s been around.”
Hyukjae sighs, staring up ahead. The stars are barely visible, little dots a million miles away. He shifts his weight a few times, his shoes too big and his coat swallowing him whole
“I’ve just been tired and stressed out. Year end schedule is always hectic and,” he picks at the end of his jacket already slightly chewed. He’s got to remember to stop leaving his stuff where Kanga can get them. “I’ve been thinking about my family a lot. I guess I just miss them with Christmas and all.” He leaves out the whole broken-thermostat-sweaty-practically-naked-Donghae part out.
“You know you can talk to me right?” Donghae says and his voice is so honest, Hyukjae stops counting headlights in the sky to look at him, face seriously playful in a way only Donghae can be. “I know I’m not the sharpest tool in the kitchen drawer, but I can be a good listener when I want to be.”
Hyukjae laughs and shoves him lightly. “So only when you want to?”
“For you, I can make an exception.”
It takes a food fight and a lame joke, but the tension of the past few days is gone and the car ride home is loud with their voices singing along to the songs on the radio they don’t know the words to, overlapping the singers’ lyrics with their incoherent tongue twisters. Everything goes back to normal.
-
Normal is heading out to the corner street market at six in the morning because they’ve run out of oranges and Hyukjae can’t possibly expect Donghae to start his day without freshly squeezed orange juice. It’s finally completing their list of good and awful restaurants in the neighborhood-the Chinese place three blocks away goes on the good with four stars. The Thai place next to that amazing sushi bar, however, doesn’t make the cut-.
Normal is putting Hyukjae’s mother on speaker phone whenever she calls at both her and Donghae’s request and it ends up with Hyukjae flipping through a magazine whilst being ignored by both of them and wondering why she doesn’t just ask for Donghae to begin with.
Normal is waking up to Kanga and Donghae curled up in his bed on especially cold mornings, both of them drooling on his sheets. Normal is burying his face in Kanga’s soft fur and pulling the blanket up and over Donghae’s head to keep him from shivering and suffocating Hyukjae with his body heat.
-
This year, Donghae decides he wants to celebrate Thanksgiving.
“You want to what?” Hyukjae asks because Chuseok was less than two months ago and what’s the point of this. But Donghae just drags him off the couch and in to a supermarket and buys four packages of what looks like croutons and way too much celery and onions and chicken stock and some spice bottle Hyukjae can’t read the label of.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Watching Donghae with a knife is kind of scary, thoughts varying from him dropping it on one of his toes or cutting off a finger and how far away the hospital is.
“I got this,” Donghae says confidently stirring the vegetables in the pan. The kitchen is flooded with the smell of a home cooked meal and whatever that spice mix has it kind of has Hyukjae licking his lips in anticipation. “Henry sent me the recipe.”
Hyukjae takes the recipe card and chuckles at Henry’s ‘Full proof. Even you can’t mess this up. Thank Thanksgiving for Dummies’ in big red letters.
When the dish is done and scooped in a big orange bowl, they sit on the couch with it and two gigantic spoons. There is an American Christmas movie Hyukjae has never seen before playing on the t.v. The subtitles are in Japanese, and while Hyukjae’s Japanese is limited to hello, bye, and how cute, his English has improved over the years and he gets the general idea of what is going on.
“How can you forget your own kid at home and not realize ‘till you’re halfway across the country?” Hyukjae questions between mouthfuls. He’s still not sure why a whole country would dedicate a day to eat moist bread, but it tastes pretty good and eats most of the bowl.
“Some people shouldn’t be parents,” Donghae mutters, scarping the sticky crunchy bits and tossing them to Kanga, curled up at his feet. “You’d be a good dad,” he adds after bringing the spoon to his mouth again.
“You think?”
“Yeah. You’d be stern but fair. You’d teach them to work for what they want, but also the importance of playing. You’d always keep them safe. Don’t you think about it? Having kids.”
Hyukjae shrugs, wrapping himself up in the blanket draped around them. “I guess. Not anytime soon but someday.” He thinks about it now.
He can see the kid, his own features stretched over smaller bones, nose poking out, eyes small, and hair as black as the a road stretching out for miles at night. The smile isn’t his, it is too bright, too toothy and there’s a lack of gums. He sees Donghae with his own kid, brown fluffy hair and face a little too pretty. Hyukjae guesses their wives are in there somewhere, but he can’t really see them, faces blurry whenever he tries to insert them into the picture. Hyukjae supposes it’s because they haven’t met them yet.
When he turns back to the movie, one of the robbers is slipping on a bunch of marbles and his arms flail around as he falls flat on his ass. Hyukjae laughs and turns to see if Donghae finds it as funny only to find him asleep, head lolled to the side. It is how they’ve always slept, backstage, plane rides, waiting rooms. But they’re not nineteen anymore and Donghae can’t really afford to walk around with a crick in his neck. Hyukjae inches closer, the couch squishing loudly beneath him but Donghae doesn’t stir. He shifts until Donghae’s head rests on his shoulder.
Warm breath ghosting on Hyukjae’s neck, Donghae looks kind of dumb like that but Hyukjae ends up watching him more than the movie even though the movie is funny and Donghae drools on his t-shirt.
-
Hyukjae awakes wrapped up in a straight jacket made of warm skin and cotton fleece and too hard bones.
“Wake up!”
“Hyukjae!”
“Hyukjaaaeeee. Wake. Up!!!”
“Nghh,” Hyukjae mumbles incoherently into his pillow feeling warm and heavy beneath his blankets and he is not getting up.
“Come on, Hyukjae. Don’t be a lazy ass,” Donghae says and smacks Hyukjae’s butt. Hyukjae jerks forward and whines, turning on his side. Donghae wraps himself from behind pulling Hyukjae into his chest and all this does is make Hyukjae give a contented sigh.
When Donghae starts shaking him, Hyukjae’s eyes are forced open, the dim morning light seeping from beneath his curtains.
“I want you out of bed and dressed,” Donghae says but by the way he has Hyukjae in his arms it looks like he wants the opposite.
“Why?” Hyukjae manages to ask in his lethargic state of half sleep.
“Because you can’t go outside naked.”
“Outside?! I’m not going outside. I am going to stay in bed all day sleeping and you,” he thrusts his elbow into Donghae’s gut for effect, “are going to leave.”
“But Hyuk ah. You aren’t going to want to miss this,” Donghae insists and leans over him so Hyukjae can see his pout. Except he’s not pouting, he’s smiling and Hyukjae blinks at him stupidly for a while until Donghae runs out of patience and digs his knees into Hyukjae’s lower back as he bites his nose.
“Ouch! Did you just bite my nose?”
“Yes,” Donghae grins and does it again, nibbling on the tip of Hyukjae’s nose. His knee has slipped and is kind wedged in between Hyukjae’s ass and what the hell because Donghae is weird and he’s always doing weird things, to Hyukjae especially, but Hyukjae is not supposed to feel warm and hot and agitated because, again, what the hell.
“Stop it you- get off!”
Donghae actually listens, rolling off of him until he faces him. His hair is messily falling out of his pony tail and he has a crease in his left cheek but Hyukjae doesn’t have a chance to register all these things when Donghae grabs his face between his hands. This time, he kisses Hyukjae’s nose, his lips cold and chapped making Hyukjae shiver. “I’m sorry. But I really don’t want you to miss it.”
“Miss wha- ughh. Fine,” Hyukjae throws the blankets off because it is hotter than a sweltering summer day under there. It’s always easier giving in with Donghae because he is going to get his way anyways, but Hyukjae has never grasped that despite the years he’s spent fighting Donghae.
Smiling, Donghae bounds off the bed and slaps Hyukjae’s butt one last time as he jogs out the room.
“What is it we are waiting for exactly?” Hyukjae asks fifteen minutes later on the sidewalk outside the coffee shop that nice Italian family owns. They’re wrapped up in sweaters and scarves and gloves but Hyukjae is pretty sure he’ll loose the feeling in his toes by the time he is let inside again.
“Could you stop being such a Grinch? I bought you coffee. You’re drowning in sweaters. Don’t be such a baby.”
“I am not a baby!” Hyukjae snaps and scowls. Time trickles by slower in the winter, Hyukjae thinks. Like time and space and the world slow down so you are forced to slow down as well and savor the quiet winter life.
“Can’t you smell that Hyukjae?”
Hyukjae stares at Donghae inhaling, his hands swinging next to him and his hair still a rumpled mess.
“Donghae, if you brought me here to smell the air, I am going to,” his threats are cut short when something white and wet lands in his coffee cup. It swirls in the brown for a moment until it disappears. Another one replaces it and then another and another.
Snow. It’s snowing. The first snowfall of the season.
Hyukjae laughs and looks up. Little drops cloud his vision like blinking city lights and he sticks his tongue out to taste them. They’re cold and watery, but different than ice, something Hyukjae can’t put his finger on but it makes him shiver in a pleasurable way.
“Now aren’t you glad I pulled you out of bed at five a.m.?” Donghae is right next to him now, snow dusting his jacket and his hair and his eyelashes. Hyukjae feels the sudden urge to push Donghae’s hair out of his eyes and taste the snow off his lashes.
“You are so,” he begins instead when Donghae raises his eyebrows.
“Amazing? Incredible? The best thing that has ever happened to you?” Donghae asks tilting his head to the sky. He’s not really waiting for an answer but Hyukjae looks for the answers in the corners of his mind anyways. It is amazing how Donghae looks really silly with his tongue sticking out. It is incredible how he doesn’t see the fire hydrant he knocks into when he’s going around in circles like he’s five years old and how he only laughs and laughs on the dirty sidewalk. And Donghae just may be the best thing that has ever happened to Hyukjae ever since the moment he walked into the practice room with his simple clothes and anything but simple smile all up to this very moment.
-
“These are so cute!”
“You are not putting those on my dog.”
“Your dog? Who takes her out for walks? Who feeds her when you’re not home?”
They stare at each other over the reindeer antler headband, eyes narrowed. Donghae sighs and lets them go.
“Alright, our dog. And if you really want them, fine. But buy her an elf suit to match and I’m burning it.”
Hyukjae grins and starts looking at the jingle bells hanging off a rack. He likes how that sounds. Their dog and their apartment. Just theirs, the thought strikes him like a bolt sending him off balance. The shops are filled with people, faceless names who don’t see them. Someone bumps into Hyukjae, muffles a quick apology as Hyukjae almost trips but he’s quick to steady himself. His face is reflected in an assortment of bells, so many of him, but Hyukjae doesn’t see his own face. Not in the blue, or the red. Not even in the silver and he wonders why.
“Hey you think these are too many lights?” Donghae jolts him back to reality, shoving the lights in Hyukjae’s arms.
It had been Hyukjae’s idea to go Christmas shopping because he knew Donghae would eventually badger him about it and unless he wanted to come home one day to find a replica of “It’s a Wonderful Life” in his living room, it was better he were involved in it somehow. Though he can’t shake the feeling that if Leeteuk where here, he’d laugh at him.
-
“Why do I even bother?” Hyukjae wonders out loud, tinsel in his hair and possibly in his pants.
“At least we saved the tree?” At the glare he receives Donghae shuts up.
They start out well. Some cheesy holiday music and the tree stand set up in place. There is even a light snow fall outside, and Hyukjae has stopped feeling silly and is actually looking forward to the prospect of having the apartment decorated. The first sign is the trunk almost snapping in half when Hyukjae is fastening it in place while Donghae holds it. Crisis averted, the lights are being wrapped around carefully and Donghae doesn’t burn himself again like he had while testing them out. The lights shine off the ornaments, colored glass splaying a light show on the walls, the ceiling and Donghae’s face, lighting up his smile until he glows. Hyukjae feels like he himself is glowing, warmth spreading over him like a thick blanket tasting like the hot chocolate running down his throat, the after taste of candy canes on his tongue.
Hyukjae blames the garland. A tree is enough, he had argued. Christmas is nothing without garland, Donghae insists. So then goes Hyukjae on a ladder with ten feet of garland hanging around him and it’s no surprise really when after putting them up, he slips with the tree skirt, crashes into Kanga, and yanks down the work he’s just finished.
“What’s this?” Hyukjae eyes the box in Donghae’s hands, displeased.
Settling back down on the couch, Donghae drops it in his lap gesturing for Hyukjae to open it. “Think of it as an early Christmas present.”
Wary, Hyukjae fingers the bright wrapping paper, his nail chipping on the edge. He takes his time unwrapping it, smirking to himself when he sees Donghae’s hand flinch to rip it open himself. Impatient himself, he stops torturing Donghae and tears away the last of the paper. Lifting the lid of the plain box, Hyukjae stares blankly before a wave of recognition washes over him.
“How did you…”
“I saw you looking at it. I figured you didn’t get it to spend, so I bought it.”
“But why,” he’s not sure what he wants to ask, eyes still glued to the bracelet in the box. “Why’d you wait all this time?”
Donghae shrugs stretched on his side. His feet reach Kanga so she can bite his toes. “I don’t know. Not the right time I guess.” He lifts the bracelet so the lights twinkle off the Japanese characters. “Silver lining,” he says and smiles, the lights getting caught between them when his eyes meet Hyukjae’s.
Donghae slips the bracelet around his left wrist, stroking the skin where Hyukjae’s pulse beats as fast as the Christmas lights blink. It’s all too much. The warmth and the cold and the lights. The memory of that day in Japan during that tour and the present and Donghae’s skin against his and the taste of candy canes in Hyukjae’s mouth and the thought that Donghae’s probably tastes the same.
He doesn’t realize he’s leaning forward until Donghae’s eyes widen and Hyukjae abruptly jerks back, getting his feet tangled in his quickness to get off the couch. Donghae looks confused and Hyukjae’s stomach twists and turns inside out. Giving an awkward laugh, Hyukjae walks backwards towards the hallway.
“Yeah. So uhmm. Thanks for the uhhh yeah. But I’ve got an early schedule tomorrow.”
“Hyukjae,” Donghae says and starts to stand but the last thing Hyukjae needs is for Donghae to come closer.
“Goodnight,” he smiles stiffly before turning around and not stopping until he’s on the other side of his door.
The wood is smooth on his back as he slides to the floor on his haunches but his breathing is rough like sandpaper scraping his heart. Hyukjae doesn’t know how long he stays like this, guessing it’s a long time after the tree is turned off and Donghae’s bedroom door closes, when he finally dives under his sheets seeing blinking lights behind his eyelids all night.
-
part III