what kisses are meant to be
what kisses are meant to be
eunhyuk/donghae
pg
3046 words
everyone remembers their first kiss. eunhyuk wishes there didn't have to be a last.
what kisses are meant to be
KBS Cool FM gets its first kiss on a warm night in August.
Close to midnight at the end of summer and all the boys and girls should be tucked away in their beds or sitting on rooftop edges to watch the sunrise but they’re tuning in, waiting to hear the press of lips and the slide of smiles through the waves of sound. Nerves are palpable and the picture of sweaty palms on washed out jeans accompany the visual; it’s jittery and tentative and eager and absolutely everything a first kiss should be.
By all means, Super Junior doesn’t belong on station 89.1. Super Junior is anything but cool. Super Junior is thirteen, to some fifteen, boys who can’t seem to get the hang of being men. Boys who try again and again, stubborn and resilient to prove themselves that they are worthy, that they have the will, the passion if only someone would listen. They are the leftover trainees, the ones who weren’t good enough. The ones who no one wanted to believe in and got erased off the list with a scoff at the mere mention of their name.
But all it takes is one kiss. One imperfectly perfect first kiss and those who are actually listening, those who breach the restraint of touch and sound and feel a press on their temple or cheek or ear; those are the ones who fall completely head over heels and never look back.
Here’s the thing about first loves: they don’t last forever.
Even if they walk hand in hand until death causes them to part, that love changes, transforms and grows and sometimes, dissolves and evaporates into the thinnest air.
Eunhyuk knows he’s been staling, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror and the knock on the door only solidifies the fact. The door opens with a loud screech and Leeteuk slips in, face tight and the slightest pressure just might make all his bones snap.
They stand there for a minute in silence. Leeteuk pretends to wash his hands, imaginary dirt scrubbed from beneath his nails and Eunhyuk tries convincing himself that if he can manage to remain unblinking for the next two hours, his eyes might stay dry.
Here they are; two boys, tripping and falling as they lead each other with unsure and confident steps through songs neither of them can sing properly and only one of them can dance assertively to. Sometimes, it’s a wonder to both of them how they’re still here. But they are. They’re here, a product of a dream and having the stamina to stay and watch it come true.
“Hyung,”
Leeteuk looks up from his wrinkled hands, by water now but soon those wrinkles will be permeated by time. His face relaxes, not enough to be relaxed and he smiles. “I know.”
This isn’t just some radio show. It’s not a place where they can talk aimlessly and blindly until their throats are sore. This is something they, Leeteuk and Eunhyuk with a few helping hands, have brought up from the ground, something made out of nothing that built it’s own foundation and has stood proud and tall for half a decade.
Leeteuk shakes the water off his hands and closes the faucet; the silence back and overwhelming. He stands straight, shoulders no longer hunched and he clears his throat, that lump almost visible through his skin pushed down into his chest. “Ready?”
Eunhyuk is the image of a lost boy. His coat swallows him whole and his bangs are too long, disheveled and falling into his eyes and there is a stubborn set to them, pleading for Leeteuk to say this is all a joke and things aren’t going to change.
With a trembling breath, the corners of Eunhyuk’s mouth upturn shakily and he says, “No,” but heads to the door anyways and this, this is what makes a boy a man.
Before the on-air sign lights up in bright red, Leeteuk knocks their feet beneath the desk. “Let’s make it a good one, yeah? Like the first one.”
Break ups are never easy. It’s even worse when neither wants the break up but sometimes growing up means letting go. With each song they play, each skit they act up, each laugh that rumbles through their chests and wheezes out their mouths in high pitched jingles, their fingers unclench only to find there are thousands of listeners still holding on.
Hundreds of cars drive in the cold night; people huddled up in bed with their headphones and their laptops on their chests from thousands of miles away; all of them waiting for that very last kiss.
The clock is about to strike midnight and it has the build up and momentum of a parting, of a I don’t want this to be an end so let’s promise it’s an and. When it comes it is hesitant, lingering and genuinely sweet like very few last kisses are.
“Thank you,” Leeteuk short of chokes out and Eunhyuk can’t say the words again, can’t find words and it’s like these last six years he’s spent running his tongue have finally taken their toll on him and he has none left, but he feels them. Thank you for listening, thank you for watching, thank you for laughing, thank you for dancing in your seat, thank you for letting us stay up with you and take you home safe and sound. Thank you for loving us the way we love you.
It all turns into this weight that forces itself down on Eunhyuk’s head, because what was he done to deserve this and how can anyone expect him to let go?
All through the final pictures, the hugs with his and Leeteuk’s parents, the presents and bowing to the fans and seeing their tears match his own and the car ride back to the dorms, it presses him down and makes him falter. The only thing keeping him upright is Leeteuk’s smile looking about ready to split his face and Donghae’s hands, always there when Eunhyuk almost trips but giving him the space if he needs the fall.
On the ride up the elevator, Donghae skips the eleventh floor and Eunhyuk would laugh but he’s not in the mood for this. Not tonight.
“Come on,” Donghae tugs at his sleeve when the doors open, throwing his arm across a wary Leeteuk’s shoulders to urge him along.
Eunhyuk stumbles after and Leeteuk looks as confused as he does. “Donghae. What are you doing? I’m really tired.”
Donghae stops at the door, gives an assuring smile as he fishes for his copy of the keys he still keeps in his jeans pocket. “I know. But come on.”
There is no point in arguing with a Donghae on a mission and that’s what he seems to be on so after exchanging a shrug with Leeteuk, Eunhyuk follows them inside toeing off his shoes and almost falling sideways at what’s waiting for them.
“What-”
The living room is full, six boys who may just be men crowded around the adults who take care of them when they can’t be, all of them sitting around endless stacks of cd’s and a music player. There is a bottle of wine between Sungmin and Kyuhyun and a tangle of wires hooked around Shindong’s hands and just when Eunhyuk thought the cold has frozen his face to eliminate the chance of falling apart, the tremble in his cheeks come back and he manages, barely, to stay standing.
Yesung plucks a cd being pinned by Kyuhyun’s thigh and smacks the back of his head with it while Siwon laughs. “You guys didn’t think you could have the final show without us did you? It is Super Junior’s Kiss The Radio after all.”
Leeteuk’s resolve finally breaks, unwinds and relief washes over his skin as he cries, Sungmin and Shindong pulling him down to sit with them and asking him to pick the first song and dedicate it to whoever he wants. Of course Leeteuk picks Miracle and dedicates it to all of them but Kyuhyun complains that Miracle doesn’t count because anything without Kyuhyun doesn’t count so they play Dancing Out next but that doesn’t stop his complaints but eventually he smiles, content.
Eunhyuk watches them all, their own mock radio station and maybe this is how it should have happened, with Shindong’s jabs and Sungmin laughing out of his chair and Siwon’s face expressing all of his reactions even though he’s quiet in all the ruckus. They spin record after record, tapping on memories that belong in the past though they don’t seem to want to stay in it, and they sing and drink and have a couple of good cries and it’s almost like any other sporadic bonding night.
Sungmin pulls up an old Epik High album on Shindong’s iTunes library and offers the laptop to Eunhyuk with tentative fingers. Eunhyuk wipes away any sting of tear the cold didn’t freeze away and smiles widely at Sungmin, selecting a song at random and watching the timer run. He holds onto Sungmin’s hand and gives it a quick squeeze reciprocating Sungmin’s relieved sigh with one of his own.
The wine runs out far too quickly and someone complains about it, how they need a refill but don’t want to miss the next song. Eunhyuk offers to get it, can’t get up fast enough and it’s an excuse. A reprieve because Eunhyuk still feels his head being pushed down, the ceiling caving down on him and he needs a second to breathe.
He’s staring blankly into the fridge when he hears footsteps. He lets the fridge be closed; hands move him out of the way and he watches as Donghae reaches above the freezer and into the top cupboard for a bottle.
Eunhyuk’s gaze slides from the fridge to Donghae’s hands, then his face. “Did you plan this?”
Donghae sets the bottle on the counter. “Sungmin hyung helped and so did Ryeowook, but yeah, I take most of the credit.”
Eunhyuk’s lips twist into a half smile, half frown. “Of course you do.”
Donghae smiles, fully, and leans against the counter. It’s quieter in the kitchen than in the living room but it is just as cold and the pressure only worsens if that’s possible.
“You guys were great tonight.”
“I was a mess,” Eunhyuk breathes. His hands are still shaking, could be the cold, could be the repressed quake in his chest. “I kept stuttering and I couldn’t remember the name of that song and-”
Donghae intercepts Eunhyuk’s words with his hands, not avoiding a fall this time but causing one, Eunhyuk landing against the counter next to him and falling into nothing but the warmth of Donghae’s side. “You were perfect.”
Eunhyuk’s stomach slams down to his toes and his heart soars into his throat. His lungs squeeze painfully and his bones all concentrate towards his eyes, pushing behind his eyelids so quickly the tears are back again, wetting his eyelashes. “Then why am I not good enough anymore?”
“I think you are.” Donghae speaks quietly over the outburst in the living room, someone punched someone or broke Ryeowooks’ headphones and subsequently suffers a black eye tomorrow.
“Not that it means much but I think you’re the best, Hyukjae-yah.”
Eunhyuk looks up from drawing aimless patters on the counter top, just a fraction and he meets Donghae’s eyes filled with as much sadness as Eunhyuk’s eyes but with a difference. There is a smile in Donghae’s, like he’s holding a secret and that secret just might be pride.
Maybe that’s what makes Eunhyuk give in again or maybe it’s the weight finally tumbling on top of him and making his bones cave, but all Eunhyuk knows is his face is wet and his shoulders shake until his body practically convulses with his dry sobs and then Donghae is pulling him into his arms and Eunhyuk clings to him. He lets himself cry into the side of Donghae’s neck and Donghae holds him as Eunhyuk mourns over the end of his first love. All Donghae does is press his face into Eunhyuk’s hair and stroke Eunhyuk’s back with steady hands.
“Thank you,” Eunhyuk croaks out, his voice damped with water and he’s cried enough tonight to last anyone else a lifetime.
“For what?” Donghae asks, voice equally hoarse and like he’s had his heart broken too.
Eunhyuk pulls back a bit, knocking his forehead against Donghae’s shoulder and his eyes falling shut. “For coming tonight. For always listening, for calling in, for…” For every endless midnight Donghae stayed up with them, for every song he ever sung along to, for taking Leeteuk’s place whenever he needed a break or couldn’t be there. For making Eunhyuk smile when he thought he wouldn’t be able to. For having his heart broken too. “For you. Thank you.”
Donghae’s grip intensifies for a moment before relaxing. Eunhyuk feels a smile against his temple and it pulls a smile from his own mouth. “Oh well. It’s not like I had anything better to do.”
Eunhyuk looks up, his chin digging into Donghae’s chest as he peers up at him through his bangs. “You never have anything better do to.”
“It comes with being the most free idol from ten to midnight,” Donghae stage whispers. He pushes Eunhyuk’s bangs back, running his hands through Eunhyuk’s hair and letting the strands fall messily.
Pushing at Donghae’s chest, Eunhyuk leans all his weight on Donghae who protests but doesn’t push him away and they shift so they fit better in a tangle of arms and legs and dry tears and soft smiles against the countertop.
“What am I supposed to do now?” Eunhyuk sighs. No one has considered the after, Eunhyuk’s now and the utter feeling of being left out in the cold and lost.
“You?” Donghae scoffs, fingers tangled in Eunhyuk’s hair. “What am I supposed to do now? Now I’m going to be bored all night.”
“I’m sorry. I forgot this is really all about you.”
“It’s okay. You can’t help it. You are incredibly selfish and arrogant after all.”
Eunhyuk punches his side lightly but Donghae is too warm for there to be any heat behind it or for Eunhyuk to want to pull away. “If this is your weird idea of a joke, it’s not helping.”
“Okay, okay.” Donghae flinches but he doesn’t let go, slouching slightly and cupping the back of Eunhyuk’s head. “Hmmm. What are we going to do?” he wonders out loud as he starts to sway in place, barely moving and humming along to his imaginary dance.
“What about Teukie hyung? Don’t you have to consider him too?”
“Nah. Teukie hyung will sleep. He’s got a few years of sleep to make up for anyways.”
“So it’s just you and me?”
“I can’t think of it being any other way.”
Eunhyuk falls into the sway then and maybe with the low hum of noise and the drone of Donghae’s voice he could fall asleep and not have to think about tomorrow being today and keep pretending it’s yesterday.
Donghae’s hands slide from the back of his head to Eunhyuk’s nape, his hair feathering abruptly in his face making Eunhyuk groan, annoyed. “Are you falling asleep?”
“No,” Eunhyuk lies with a yawn. “I’m waiting for you to think.”
Donghae frowns but he sighs and he starts. “We can stay up late and watch Japanese dramas. Or we could finish watching Lost. You’re still on season five and I can’t remember anything that happened after the fourth. We could play games with Kyuhyun and you know he’d like having someone to beat. But then you’d get really competitive and I don’t think that’s a good idea because you know how he gets. So we could maybe go out? Sit by the Han River like when we were kids and watch it light up and eat bulgogi. Or,” Donghae stops to yawn, his mindless swaying taking each rock further out so their hips bump and his lips brush Eunhyuk’s ear as he speaks, this quiet desperation in his voice now. “Or we could play music and you could talk and I’d listen. I’ll always listen.”
Eunhyuk doesn’t know when but his hands have wrapped around Donghae’s waist and his hands fist in the back of Donghae’s shirt, each word laced with a promise falling from Donghae’s mouth both piercing his heart further and repairing it at the same time. He tilts his head and looks at Donghae. “You could talk too.”
Donghae grins, raising one of his hands to wipe a tear track on Eunhyuk’s cheek. “Will you always listen?”
“And pretend I do when I’m not,” Eunhyuk promises.
“That’s all I ask.”
Donghae presses his lips to Eunhyuk’s cheekbone, his mouth branded by the cold, and it isn’t a first or a last kiss but it is comforting, it’s familiar but always welcome like being lip on lip and it feels like being found or finding a hand to hold on path to home and having someone to leave the light on for you once you arrive.
The quiet is broken by a voice, loud and shattering. “Where’s my wine?” someone from the living room, most probably Sungmin or Kyuhyun, yells and Eunhyuk chuckles. He steps back and Donghae moves slowly, smiling and brushing Eunhyuk’s bangs to the side.
Donghae grabs the forgotten bottle, waits while Eunhyuk fixes his clothes and rubs his eyes and his nose uselessly because his eyes are still a little cloudy and his nose is red like a Christmas tree light, but he smiles and Donghae’s eyes light up in return.
“Ready?”
Eunhyuk stalls but only for a moment. There are still cars on the roads of Seoul, still people lying awake in their beds and they will continue to do so for years, dwindling and racing round the sun until there’s nothing else to listen to. They’ll find someone else to listen to meanwhile and Eunhyuk isn’t some lost boy with no one to lead him through tentative steps. He has ears to be his audience and a mouth to receive his kisses now, tomorrow, and for however and lasts.
“Yeah. I’m ready.”
***
a/n: I have a lot of thoughts about this fic and originally this wasn't supposed to be about eunhae at all but it just happened. My way of giving some kind of closure to my feelings about eunteuk leaving sukira and how it must affect their most trusted listener as well ;;
eunhyuk/donghae
pg
3046 words
everyone remembers their first kiss. eunhyuk wishes there didn't have to be a last.
what kisses are meant to be
KBS Cool FM gets its first kiss on a warm night in August.
Close to midnight at the end of summer and all the boys and girls should be tucked away in their beds or sitting on rooftop edges to watch the sunrise but they’re tuning in, waiting to hear the press of lips and the slide of smiles through the waves of sound. Nerves are palpable and the picture of sweaty palms on washed out jeans accompany the visual; it’s jittery and tentative and eager and absolutely everything a first kiss should be.
By all means, Super Junior doesn’t belong on station 89.1. Super Junior is anything but cool. Super Junior is thirteen, to some fifteen, boys who can’t seem to get the hang of being men. Boys who try again and again, stubborn and resilient to prove themselves that they are worthy, that they have the will, the passion if only someone would listen. They are the leftover trainees, the ones who weren’t good enough. The ones who no one wanted to believe in and got erased off the list with a scoff at the mere mention of their name.
But all it takes is one kiss. One imperfectly perfect first kiss and those who are actually listening, those who breach the restraint of touch and sound and feel a press on their temple or cheek or ear; those are the ones who fall completely head over heels and never look back.
Here’s the thing about first loves: they don’t last forever.
Even if they walk hand in hand until death causes them to part, that love changes, transforms and grows and sometimes, dissolves and evaporates into the thinnest air.
Eunhyuk knows he’s been staling, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror and the knock on the door only solidifies the fact. The door opens with a loud screech and Leeteuk slips in, face tight and the slightest pressure just might make all his bones snap.
They stand there for a minute in silence. Leeteuk pretends to wash his hands, imaginary dirt scrubbed from beneath his nails and Eunhyuk tries convincing himself that if he can manage to remain unblinking for the next two hours, his eyes might stay dry.
Here they are; two boys, tripping and falling as they lead each other with unsure and confident steps through songs neither of them can sing properly and only one of them can dance assertively to. Sometimes, it’s a wonder to both of them how they’re still here. But they are. They’re here, a product of a dream and having the stamina to stay and watch it come true.
“Hyung,”
Leeteuk looks up from his wrinkled hands, by water now but soon those wrinkles will be permeated by time. His face relaxes, not enough to be relaxed and he smiles. “I know.”
This isn’t just some radio show. It’s not a place where they can talk aimlessly and blindly until their throats are sore. This is something they, Leeteuk and Eunhyuk with a few helping hands, have brought up from the ground, something made out of nothing that built it’s own foundation and has stood proud and tall for half a decade.
Leeteuk shakes the water off his hands and closes the faucet; the silence back and overwhelming. He stands straight, shoulders no longer hunched and he clears his throat, that lump almost visible through his skin pushed down into his chest. “Ready?”
Eunhyuk is the image of a lost boy. His coat swallows him whole and his bangs are too long, disheveled and falling into his eyes and there is a stubborn set to them, pleading for Leeteuk to say this is all a joke and things aren’t going to change.
With a trembling breath, the corners of Eunhyuk’s mouth upturn shakily and he says, “No,” but heads to the door anyways and this, this is what makes a boy a man.
Before the on-air sign lights up in bright red, Leeteuk knocks their feet beneath the desk. “Let’s make it a good one, yeah? Like the first one.”
Break ups are never easy. It’s even worse when neither wants the break up but sometimes growing up means letting go. With each song they play, each skit they act up, each laugh that rumbles through their chests and wheezes out their mouths in high pitched jingles, their fingers unclench only to find there are thousands of listeners still holding on.
Hundreds of cars drive in the cold night; people huddled up in bed with their headphones and their laptops on their chests from thousands of miles away; all of them waiting for that very last kiss.
The clock is about to strike midnight and it has the build up and momentum of a parting, of a I don’t want this to be an end so let’s promise it’s an and. When it comes it is hesitant, lingering and genuinely sweet like very few last kisses are.
“Thank you,” Leeteuk short of chokes out and Eunhyuk can’t say the words again, can’t find words and it’s like these last six years he’s spent running his tongue have finally taken their toll on him and he has none left, but he feels them. Thank you for listening, thank you for watching, thank you for laughing, thank you for dancing in your seat, thank you for letting us stay up with you and take you home safe and sound. Thank you for loving us the way we love you.
It all turns into this weight that forces itself down on Eunhyuk’s head, because what was he done to deserve this and how can anyone expect him to let go?
All through the final pictures, the hugs with his and Leeteuk’s parents, the presents and bowing to the fans and seeing their tears match his own and the car ride back to the dorms, it presses him down and makes him falter. The only thing keeping him upright is Leeteuk’s smile looking about ready to split his face and Donghae’s hands, always there when Eunhyuk almost trips but giving him the space if he needs the fall.
On the ride up the elevator, Donghae skips the eleventh floor and Eunhyuk would laugh but he’s not in the mood for this. Not tonight.
“Come on,” Donghae tugs at his sleeve when the doors open, throwing his arm across a wary Leeteuk’s shoulders to urge him along.
Eunhyuk stumbles after and Leeteuk looks as confused as he does. “Donghae. What are you doing? I’m really tired.”
Donghae stops at the door, gives an assuring smile as he fishes for his copy of the keys he still keeps in his jeans pocket. “I know. But come on.”
There is no point in arguing with a Donghae on a mission and that’s what he seems to be on so after exchanging a shrug with Leeteuk, Eunhyuk follows them inside toeing off his shoes and almost falling sideways at what’s waiting for them.
“What-”
The living room is full, six boys who may just be men crowded around the adults who take care of them when they can’t be, all of them sitting around endless stacks of cd’s and a music player. There is a bottle of wine between Sungmin and Kyuhyun and a tangle of wires hooked around Shindong’s hands and just when Eunhyuk thought the cold has frozen his face to eliminate the chance of falling apart, the tremble in his cheeks come back and he manages, barely, to stay standing.
Yesung plucks a cd being pinned by Kyuhyun’s thigh and smacks the back of his head with it while Siwon laughs. “You guys didn’t think you could have the final show without us did you? It is Super Junior’s Kiss The Radio after all.”
Leeteuk’s resolve finally breaks, unwinds and relief washes over his skin as he cries, Sungmin and Shindong pulling him down to sit with them and asking him to pick the first song and dedicate it to whoever he wants. Of course Leeteuk picks Miracle and dedicates it to all of them but Kyuhyun complains that Miracle doesn’t count because anything without Kyuhyun doesn’t count so they play Dancing Out next but that doesn’t stop his complaints but eventually he smiles, content.
Eunhyuk watches them all, their own mock radio station and maybe this is how it should have happened, with Shindong’s jabs and Sungmin laughing out of his chair and Siwon’s face expressing all of his reactions even though he’s quiet in all the ruckus. They spin record after record, tapping on memories that belong in the past though they don’t seem to want to stay in it, and they sing and drink and have a couple of good cries and it’s almost like any other sporadic bonding night.
Sungmin pulls up an old Epik High album on Shindong’s iTunes library and offers the laptop to Eunhyuk with tentative fingers. Eunhyuk wipes away any sting of tear the cold didn’t freeze away and smiles widely at Sungmin, selecting a song at random and watching the timer run. He holds onto Sungmin’s hand and gives it a quick squeeze reciprocating Sungmin’s relieved sigh with one of his own.
The wine runs out far too quickly and someone complains about it, how they need a refill but don’t want to miss the next song. Eunhyuk offers to get it, can’t get up fast enough and it’s an excuse. A reprieve because Eunhyuk still feels his head being pushed down, the ceiling caving down on him and he needs a second to breathe.
He’s staring blankly into the fridge when he hears footsteps. He lets the fridge be closed; hands move him out of the way and he watches as Donghae reaches above the freezer and into the top cupboard for a bottle.
Eunhyuk’s gaze slides from the fridge to Donghae’s hands, then his face. “Did you plan this?”
Donghae sets the bottle on the counter. “Sungmin hyung helped and so did Ryeowook, but yeah, I take most of the credit.”
Eunhyuk’s lips twist into a half smile, half frown. “Of course you do.”
Donghae smiles, fully, and leans against the counter. It’s quieter in the kitchen than in the living room but it is just as cold and the pressure only worsens if that’s possible.
“You guys were great tonight.”
“I was a mess,” Eunhyuk breathes. His hands are still shaking, could be the cold, could be the repressed quake in his chest. “I kept stuttering and I couldn’t remember the name of that song and-”
Donghae intercepts Eunhyuk’s words with his hands, not avoiding a fall this time but causing one, Eunhyuk landing against the counter next to him and falling into nothing but the warmth of Donghae’s side. “You were perfect.”
Eunhyuk’s stomach slams down to his toes and his heart soars into his throat. His lungs squeeze painfully and his bones all concentrate towards his eyes, pushing behind his eyelids so quickly the tears are back again, wetting his eyelashes. “Then why am I not good enough anymore?”
“I think you are.” Donghae speaks quietly over the outburst in the living room, someone punched someone or broke Ryeowooks’ headphones and subsequently suffers a black eye tomorrow.
“Not that it means much but I think you’re the best, Hyukjae-yah.”
Eunhyuk looks up from drawing aimless patters on the counter top, just a fraction and he meets Donghae’s eyes filled with as much sadness as Eunhyuk’s eyes but with a difference. There is a smile in Donghae’s, like he’s holding a secret and that secret just might be pride.
Maybe that’s what makes Eunhyuk give in again or maybe it’s the weight finally tumbling on top of him and making his bones cave, but all Eunhyuk knows is his face is wet and his shoulders shake until his body practically convulses with his dry sobs and then Donghae is pulling him into his arms and Eunhyuk clings to him. He lets himself cry into the side of Donghae’s neck and Donghae holds him as Eunhyuk mourns over the end of his first love. All Donghae does is press his face into Eunhyuk’s hair and stroke Eunhyuk’s back with steady hands.
“Thank you,” Eunhyuk croaks out, his voice damped with water and he’s cried enough tonight to last anyone else a lifetime.
“For what?” Donghae asks, voice equally hoarse and like he’s had his heart broken too.
Eunhyuk pulls back a bit, knocking his forehead against Donghae’s shoulder and his eyes falling shut. “For coming tonight. For always listening, for calling in, for…” For every endless midnight Donghae stayed up with them, for every song he ever sung along to, for taking Leeteuk’s place whenever he needed a break or couldn’t be there. For making Eunhyuk smile when he thought he wouldn’t be able to. For having his heart broken too. “For you. Thank you.”
Donghae’s grip intensifies for a moment before relaxing. Eunhyuk feels a smile against his temple and it pulls a smile from his own mouth. “Oh well. It’s not like I had anything better to do.”
Eunhyuk looks up, his chin digging into Donghae’s chest as he peers up at him through his bangs. “You never have anything better do to.”
“It comes with being the most free idol from ten to midnight,” Donghae stage whispers. He pushes Eunhyuk’s bangs back, running his hands through Eunhyuk’s hair and letting the strands fall messily.
Pushing at Donghae’s chest, Eunhyuk leans all his weight on Donghae who protests but doesn’t push him away and they shift so they fit better in a tangle of arms and legs and dry tears and soft smiles against the countertop.
“What am I supposed to do now?” Eunhyuk sighs. No one has considered the after, Eunhyuk’s now and the utter feeling of being left out in the cold and lost.
“You?” Donghae scoffs, fingers tangled in Eunhyuk’s hair. “What am I supposed to do now? Now I’m going to be bored all night.”
“I’m sorry. I forgot this is really all about you.”
“It’s okay. You can’t help it. You are incredibly selfish and arrogant after all.”
Eunhyuk punches his side lightly but Donghae is too warm for there to be any heat behind it or for Eunhyuk to want to pull away. “If this is your weird idea of a joke, it’s not helping.”
“Okay, okay.” Donghae flinches but he doesn’t let go, slouching slightly and cupping the back of Eunhyuk’s head. “Hmmm. What are we going to do?” he wonders out loud as he starts to sway in place, barely moving and humming along to his imaginary dance.
“What about Teukie hyung? Don’t you have to consider him too?”
“Nah. Teukie hyung will sleep. He’s got a few years of sleep to make up for anyways.”
“So it’s just you and me?”
“I can’t think of it being any other way.”
Eunhyuk falls into the sway then and maybe with the low hum of noise and the drone of Donghae’s voice he could fall asleep and not have to think about tomorrow being today and keep pretending it’s yesterday.
Donghae’s hands slide from the back of his head to Eunhyuk’s nape, his hair feathering abruptly in his face making Eunhyuk groan, annoyed. “Are you falling asleep?”
“No,” Eunhyuk lies with a yawn. “I’m waiting for you to think.”
Donghae frowns but he sighs and he starts. “We can stay up late and watch Japanese dramas. Or we could finish watching Lost. You’re still on season five and I can’t remember anything that happened after the fourth. We could play games with Kyuhyun and you know he’d like having someone to beat. But then you’d get really competitive and I don’t think that’s a good idea because you know how he gets. So we could maybe go out? Sit by the Han River like when we were kids and watch it light up and eat bulgogi. Or,” Donghae stops to yawn, his mindless swaying taking each rock further out so their hips bump and his lips brush Eunhyuk’s ear as he speaks, this quiet desperation in his voice now. “Or we could play music and you could talk and I’d listen. I’ll always listen.”
Eunhyuk doesn’t know when but his hands have wrapped around Donghae’s waist and his hands fist in the back of Donghae’s shirt, each word laced with a promise falling from Donghae’s mouth both piercing his heart further and repairing it at the same time. He tilts his head and looks at Donghae. “You could talk too.”
Donghae grins, raising one of his hands to wipe a tear track on Eunhyuk’s cheek. “Will you always listen?”
“And pretend I do when I’m not,” Eunhyuk promises.
“That’s all I ask.”
Donghae presses his lips to Eunhyuk’s cheekbone, his mouth branded by the cold, and it isn’t a first or a last kiss but it is comforting, it’s familiar but always welcome like being lip on lip and it feels like being found or finding a hand to hold on path to home and having someone to leave the light on for you once you arrive.
The quiet is broken by a voice, loud and shattering. “Where’s my wine?” someone from the living room, most probably Sungmin or Kyuhyun, yells and Eunhyuk chuckles. He steps back and Donghae moves slowly, smiling and brushing Eunhyuk’s bangs to the side.
Donghae grabs the forgotten bottle, waits while Eunhyuk fixes his clothes and rubs his eyes and his nose uselessly because his eyes are still a little cloudy and his nose is red like a Christmas tree light, but he smiles and Donghae’s eyes light up in return.
“Ready?”
Eunhyuk stalls but only for a moment. There are still cars on the roads of Seoul, still people lying awake in their beds and they will continue to do so for years, dwindling and racing round the sun until there’s nothing else to listen to. They’ll find someone else to listen to meanwhile and Eunhyuk isn’t some lost boy with no one to lead him through tentative steps. He has ears to be his audience and a mouth to receive his kisses now, tomorrow, and for however and lasts.
“Yeah. I’m ready.”
***
a/n: I have a lot of thoughts about this fic and originally this wasn't supposed to be about eunhae at all but it just happened. My way of giving some kind of closure to my feelings about eunteuk leaving sukira and how it must affect their most trusted listener as well ;;