Dream a Little Dream
Title: Dream a Little Dream
Pairing(s): Yesung/Donghae, minor!Kangin/Leeteuk
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Fluff
Disclaimer: Contrary to popular belief, no one owns them.
Summary: For the longest time, dreams had always eluded Jongwoon's subconscience. It took a humble street urchin to guide him back into the world that he had always longed to return to.
When Jongwoon was younger, he was blessed with dreams every night.
Every night, as Jongwoon was close to entering the world of slumber, he would anticipate the contents of his dream. He sifted through past dreams that he longed to continue or thought up of new ones that he hoped would translate into his sleep. Jongwoon sought pleasure and delight in his subconscience, which wasn’t bound by the harsh tangibility of real life. He found it amazing that even behind shut eyes, he could still experience a world so rich and exciting.
Be it roaming the wide plains of the countryside or floating in the mass expanse of an ocean, Jongwoon enjoyed each and every single one of his dreams. His dream self closed his eyes in bliss when he felt the wind whipping his fringe about his face. He sighed inwardly and contentedly when he heard the calming cascades of waves gently passing by his body. As he turned in the water, his taste buds absorbed the saline taste of the surrounding seawater.
Even the occasional nightmare couldn’t dampen his spirits for long; Jongwoon saw it as an equally enriching experience, being greeted by creeping shadows or exploring an abandoned cityscape. He saw it as a chance to view something that he probably and hopefully would never see in real life.
Jongwoon prided himself on his imagination. He believed that it could put those of many adults’ to shame, and how true he was. Whenever he recounted his dreams to his parents, he was met with the same reaction every single time: A couple of shakes of the head, a hand brought down to muss up his soft, raven locks and a indulgent smile aimed in his direction, which were oftentimes borderline condescending. Jongwoon took no notice or care of his parents’ inability to understand; he appreciated his dreams and that was enough for him.
-
Years flashed by and Jongwoon soon became an adolescent. The frequency of his dreams decreased but he wasn’t worried. He had to stay up at times, burning the midnight oil for assignments that he had stubbornly refused to touch until the deadline (and his nagging mother) started to breathe down his neck.
Jongwoon still continued to dream; in his dreams, he sought solace from the abrupt passage of childhood to adolescence that he still wasn’t accustomed to. Like a wallflower thrust into the spotlight, Jongwoon shrank away when faced with the accumulating duties and responsibilities that he was forced to shoulder, now that he was a youth.
Jongwoon’s physical state may have been that of an adult’s but his mind refused to comply, preferring to stay as a child’s.
-
The end of a year meant the start of another, and Jongwoon was on the brink of adulthood. The endless hours spent with his nose buried in countless of books drained him intensely, both physically and mentally. Averaging twelve hours at his high school left Jongwoon little time for non-academic related pursuits, well, not like he had the energy to do so anyway.
Every night, as Jongwoon collapsed onto the soft duvet, he would curse the education system for how soul-sucking it was. Rolling onto his side, he then chastised himself for letting negativity intrude on his favourite time of the day, the only time where he was allowed to be who he truly was: A free-spirited dreamer.
Unfortunately, his life didn’t agree with him and it soon cruelly robbed him of the one thing and the one place Jongwoon found refuge in. Jongwoon was fast losing control of his subconscious world, the only part of his life that he felt he had a semblance of command over, and it deeply unnerved him. Over time, his dreams became shards; fragmented pieces that he tried so hard to gather, to piece back together. Jongwoon kept being jerked back into reality, into the conscious world which he occasionally despised.
Jongwoon soon stopped having dreams altogether.
-
"So what’s your plan for the evening, Jongwoon?” Youngwoon asked as they exited their office premises and made their way to the car park.
“Hmm,” Jongwoon scrunched up his nose in thought. “Preparing and then inhaling my dinner in record time, trying not to drown myself in the shower and finally, barely making it to my bed just to collapse onto it heavily.”
Youngwoon rolled his eyes at his partner’s monotonous delivery. “That’s what you do every day, Jongwoon."
“Well then, why do you keep asking me the same question over and over again?” It was Jongwoon’s turn for his eyes to move heavenwards. “You do know that I only keep answering just to humour you.”
“As a friend, I take an interest in your activities and would like the best for you. Jungsu said that-" Youngwoon took no heed of Jongwoon’s snort and carried on talking. “While routines provide you with a sense of order in your life, it doesn’t hurt to shake things up from time to time.”
Turning to face the younger man, Jongwoon soon stopped in his tracks and shot Youngwoon a wry, cynical smile.
“I swear, ever since you’ve hooked up with Jungsu, you’ve been trying to change my life. Look, I appreciate it and all but-“
Youngwoon sighed and shook his head. “Like I said, I only want the best for you, Jongwoon. And even though you won’t believe it, Jungsu does as well. He’s a trained psychiatrist; he can help you like how he did for me.”
“I didn’t appreciate how he branded me as complex and intriguing after just ten minutes of our first encounter,” Jongwoon said, biting his lips unconsciously at the recollection of the memory. “Like ten minutes was enough to determine the type of person I am.”
Youngwoon brought his free arm out and gestured emphatically at himself. “People take one good look at me and they can tell that I have a short fuse. Jongwoon, some of our attributes are obvious and some of them, well, need time to be uncovered. You shouldn’t be offended by Jungsu, he meant no harm. He still asks about your well-being occasionally, did you know that?”
Jongwoon’s frown faltered for a split second, but he immediately forced his lips into a tight, thin line.
“Tell Jungsu that I’m doing just fine, and that his concern is much displaced.”
“You’re impossibly difficult,” Youngwoon declared, folding his arms across his chest in defeat.
“I pride myself on that.”
-
Despite being a real estate agent, the premises in which Jongwoon occupied could be considered unfitting. He lived in a fairly nondescript building, occupying the penthouse apartment. Jongwoon found humour in the irony of the building; its unassuming appearance belied its value. Located in the heart of the city, the building stood on a plot of land that was quickly appreciating in value. Sure, Jongwoon had considered that before closing the deal on the apartment, but he was more interested in the roof space above it. He had always found living in the city stifling, so the open roof space was a much needed reprieve from the closed-up buildings down below.
Whenever Jongwoon glanced at the stairway leading to the roof space in the morning, he would remind himself to explore the space more intimately at night. However, the thought was always pushed aside by his fatigue, his worries, his work, all brought about by his daily life.
Jongwoon really did spend his time after work as he had narrated to Youngwoon. He had to begrudgingly admit that what Jungsu had said was right; he did find comfort in his rigid, structured routine. (Not that he would ever admit to either Youngwoon or Jungsu, no way.)
-
Jongwoon was on his way to the nearby coffee joint after work. It was one of the few indulgences he allowed himself; a freshly-brewed cup of bespoke coffee, catering precisely to his tastes. As he walked casually along the sidewalk, he took little notice of the group of trendily-dressed youths approaching him. The youth facing his left roughly brushed against his shoulder, causing Jongwoon to turn and frown at him. At that exact moment, the other two youths took advantage of Jongwoon’s distractedness and grabbed his briefcase from his right hand, which had slackened at that instant.
Stunned, Jongwoon could only stand immobile as the gang burst into a dash, carting away his briefcase, which contained many invaluable documents.
My documents!
Jongwoon quickly let loose a string of profanities, all of them muttered harshly under his breath, as he gave chase to the hooligans. His precious documents, including the one concerning the restored house in Bukchon Hanok Village, were in that briefcase! There was no way that Jongwoon would let those youths go.
Blood pounded loudly in his ears; it was the only sound that Jongwoon could currently register. Almost all of his energy was channeled into his mad sprint. Jongwoon was rapidly closing in on the youths, whose expressions, upon looking back at Jongwoon, clearly broadcasted their thoughts that he was crazy for tailing them after this far.
The youths soon detoured into an alley and Jongwoon followed. However, the momentum during his turn proved too much for him and he lost his footing. Not bothering with censoring himself this time, Jongwoon let fly his favoured cuss word as loud as he could. Bringing his hands before himself instinctively, Jongwoon managed to cushion his fall. Still, his palms which bore the brunt of the impact stung painfully.
Brushing the bits of cement off his raw palms against his pants, Jongwoon slowly brought himself up. His eyes instantly began scanning the entire alley and he sighed heavily upon registering that none of the youths were in sight. His legs chose that exact moment to buckle under him, the effects of accumulated lactic acid in his calf muscles finally kicking in. Jongwoon stooped tiredly, trying to support his upper body and catch his breath at the same time.
“Sir?” A soft voice echoed meekly above him. “Are you alright?”
Jongwoon slowly brought his head up and came face to face with a wiry youth, a completely unfamiliar face. His eyes studied the male’s pale face, which was strangely full of tiny, shallow cuts and specks of dirt, and slowly trailed down to his tattered collar and then to the black briefcase he was holding against his chest-
Wait. That’s…
Jongwoon’s eyes widened at the sight of the familiar briefcase, his briefcase in fact. Still in the midst of regaining his breath, Jongwoon gestured awkwardly at the briefcase and then pointed to himself, hoping that the male got the hint.
The male pursed his lips in confusion, obviously not comprehending Jongwoon’s gestural language at all.
“It’s…” Jongwoon croaked weakly. “Mine… That’s-“
“Oh!” The male cut Jongwoon off. “So this briefcase belongs to you? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
Finally straightening his back, Jongwoon nodded slowly.
The male’s thin lips quirked into a smile and he held out the briefcase for Jongwoon to reclaim it.
“Well, if that’s all, I best be on my way- Sir?“ The male cocked a questioning brow at Jongwoon, who had reached out and grabbed the former’s shoulders.
“T-thank you,” Jongwoon panted. “Thank you so much for retrieving it for me. Let me buy you a meal, please.”
“Sir?” The male’s expression softened as Jongwoon increased the pressure on his shoulders.
“Please.”
-
Jongwoon felt the need to direct sidelong glances at the male next to him every few seconds; he had an unfounded fear that said male would suddenly run away for some strange reason. It couldn’t be far from the truth. The male casually kept in step with Jongwoon, his hands tucked into the pockets of his ill-fitting sweatpants.
As Jongwoon pushed open the door to the cozy dinner, the overhanging welcoming bell jingled softly. The male let out an amused chuckle at the sound, and Jongwoon was fascinated at how carefree his chuckle had sounded.
-
“So,” Jongwoon started, glancing up from the menu to the male seated opposite him. “What would you like to eat?”
“Donghae,” The male stated.
“Huh?”
“My name’s Donghae. Full name Lee Donghae, in case you’re wondering,” Donghae chuckled. “It would be pretty weird to have a meal with someone whose name you don’t even know, right?”
“You’re not implying that I’m weird, are you?” Jongwoon immediately spoke up. “And Kim Jongwoon’s the name.”
Donghae laughed and shook his head. “Not in the slightest, Jongwoon-sshi. I just thought that it would less awkward for the both of us if we exchanged our names.”
“Oh.” Jongwoon shrank back in his seat. “Well, Donghae, what would you like to order?”
Donghae began scanning the menu intently, his eyes widening and narrowing in obvious approval and disapproval at the choices. Once again, Donghae’s unrestrained mannerisms caught Jongwoon’s attention. He watched Donghae interestedly as the latter bit his bottom lip in apparent concentration, as if choosing a set from the menu was an immensely difficult task.
“I’ll have the Kalguksu set,” Donghae declared after looking up from the menu.
Jongwoon smiled. “Alright then.”
-
“So Donghae,” Jongwoon attempted to initiate a conversation when he saw that Donghae was halfway through his bowl of noodles. “Do you live around here?”
Raising his head in response, Donghae paused before replying, “You can say that this whole neighbourhood is my home.”
“Huh?”
Setting his chopsticks gently onto the bowl, Donghae spread out his hands. “I don’t have a proper home, Jongwoon-sshi. I sleep wherever I feel is most comfortable for the night.”
Jongwoon tensed immediately, dropping his gaze to his bowl of Bibimbap.
“Your parents?” Jongwoon choked out.
“Dead,” Donghae said simply. “I’ve been living out on the streets for at least five years now.”
“I’m- I’m,” Jongwoon stuttered feebly, unable to formulate a proper response to Donghae’s revelation.
"Sorry? Don’t be, Jongwoon-sshi,” Donghae said calmly, offering Jongwoon a small smile.
Donghae took up his chopsticks and resumed eating. Jongwoon, on the other hand, was fumbling with his long metal spoon; his fingers had suddenly grown clammy.
The two of them continued their meal in a stilted silence, which was occasionally broken by slurps from Donghae.
“Thank you for the meal, Jongwoon-sshi,” Donghae said earnestly and he gave Jongwoon a small nod of his head.
“…You’re welcome, Donghae,” Jongwoon forced himself to smile.
Donghae returned the smile, the corners of his mouth lifting in response.
His smile didn’t reach his eyes, Jongwoon noted silently.
-
It was two weeks till Jongwoon met Donghae again.
It was purely a chance encounter; Jongwoon had sent a pair of his shoes to the neighbourhood cobbler and somehow bumped into Donghae, of all people.
“Jongwoon-sshi!” Donghae was the first to react.
“Oh, Donghae, hello there,” Jongwoon said mutedly, their conversation from their first encounter suddenly fresh in his mind. “What are you doing here?”
Donghae glanced back at the building behind him and smiled. “Three times a week, I attend classes at this community college. I’m hoping to take up an administrative job once I’m finished here.”
Jongwoon frowned at the relative ease of getting Donghae to divulge information about himself.
Shouldn’t he be at least a little more guarded with a stranger he’s met only twice in his life?
“Jongwoon-sshi?” Donghae blinked confusedly at Jongwoon’s sudden muteness.
“Coffee,” The word slipped out of Jongwoon’s lips. “Would you like to have coffee with me?”
-
Donghae followed the wisps of steam rising from the mug of caramel macchiato that he held in between his hands. Jongwoon brought his own mug of coffee to his lips, and when he brought it back onto the table, Donghae still hadn’t taken a single sip.
“Something wrong, Donghae?” Jongwoon questioned worriedly. “Is the coffee still too hot for you?”
Looking up from his mug, Donghae shook his head fervently. “Not at all, Jongwoon-sshi! I’m just watching the steam rising from the coffee.”
“…Okay,” Jongwoon said after a pregnant pause; he was unsure on how to respond to that statement.
Donghae glanced at Jongwoon’s half-empty cup and commented, “You must really enjoy your coffee, Jongwoon-sshi!”
Jongwoon took one look at the mug and then back at Donghae. “It’s one of the few things in life I enjoy, frankly.”
Donghae leaned forward in his seat, his eyes narrowed in mild bemusement. “You mean that you don’t really enjoy life, Jongwoon-sshi?”
“I don’t enjoy my life, Donghae,” Jongwoon corrected him. And then, he stopped himself.
Perplexed by Jongwoon’s abrupt silence, Donghae frowned even harder.
“Jongwoon-sshi?” Donghae prompted tentatively.
Heaving a huge sigh, Jongwoon shook his head tiredly. “Forget I even said that; that was incredibly rude and insensitive of me. I’m sorry.”
“Oh,” Donghae said, clearly not understanding the turn in their conversation.
“Look,” Jongwoon breathed out, his voice almost coming out as a hiss. “I’m sorry because well, here I am complaining about my life, in front of you. That’s just plain rude on my part, isn’t it?”
Donghae contemplated Jongwoon’s words for a moment before nodding slowly.
“You should teach me how to enjoy life, Donghae,” Jongwoon proposed half-seriously. “If I were in your shoes, I would have cast myself off the nearest bridge.”
“Well,” Donghae brought his hand to his chin, before rubbing it in thought. “I just try not to think of the bad things and concentrate on the present. Sometimes, if things go bad, then maybe they were bound to have turned out bad in the first place.”
“That’s akin to having low expectations, Donghae,” Jongwoon said.
“It’s not that I have low expectations, Jongwoon-sshi. It’s just that I see no point in wasting energy in complaining or dwelling on events that happened in the past. Things that will go their way will do so, and likewise, if things were doomed from the start, then that’s too bad.”
Donghae’s views were completely childlike, in terms of their simplicity, Jongwoon thought. It certainly varied greatly from his own.
-
After their second encounter, Jongwoon began anticipating their chance meetings. Whenever he was in the neighbourhood where Donghae stayed in, Jongwoon half-expected Donghae to somehow materialize out of thin air. Jongwoon himself didn’t understand why he looked forward to seeing Donghae so much.
On the instances when they did meet, Jongwoon would always offer to buy Donghae coffee. Surprisingly, Donghae didn’t accept his offer readily half of the time, citing various reasons such as “I already have other plans” or “I’m not in the mood for coffee today”. Jongwoon soon realized that it wasn’t insolence on Donghae’s part, but mere playfulness.
-
Donghae was like a nomad, never staying at the same spot twice in a row. One day, Jongwoon would find him in the alley next to their usual coffee joint and on the next, Jongwoon would stumble across him in the neighbourhood park, humming an odd tune as he perched on his favourite park bench. By now, Jongwoon possessed a faint knowledge of Donghae’s routine, having understood its slight predictability. At night, Donghae would either sleep on the park bench or at a discontinued bus stop near his community college if it was fine weather, or retreat to the nearest underground subway shelter if it was raining.
Not wanting to intrude on Donghae’s privacy or insult his dignity in any way, Jongwoon merely offered him meals or money to buy new clothes. Jongwoon acknowledged that Donghae had managed to support himself for the past five years, yet he wanted to alleviate Donghae’s burden in any way that he could. It heartened him to be by Donghae’s side as he watched the latter tuck into a steaming bowl of ddeokbokki and it amused him to see Donghae dressed in recently purchased clothes that were still hanging off his lean frame. (He had grown too accustomed to baggy clothes, he claimed.)
Although Jongwoon didn’t realize it, he did all of this out of his own good will. He never expected Donghae to return his favours in any way; the sincere, innocent smile he flashed at Jongwoon was payment enough.
-
Autumn was fast approaching and Jongwoon was growing worried about Donghae. The weather forecasts were broadcasting a predicted drastic drop in temperature which definitely didn’t bode well for Donghae.
Jongwoon headed to the park one day, that day being one of those days when Donghae didn’t have any classes. Armed with an old parka, Jongwoon strode hurriedly to that familiar park bench, expecting to see Donghae waving excitedly at him from afar. Instead, Donghae remained still, his arms folded tightly across his chest. Jongwoon immediately quickened his pace, the creases on his forehead deepening as he drew nearer.
“DONGHAE!”
By the time Jongwoon reached Donghae’s side, it was already too late. The younger man had keeled over and fainted, exhaustion and illness evident on his pale, hard-lined face.
-
Sitting on the edge of his own bed, Jongwoon sighed as he gazed at its current occupant. Tucked beneath layers of quilt and duvet was Donghae. The lines on his face had evened out and his eyes were no longer scrunched up in discomfort, both signs that his condition was at least improving. However, his thin lips remained chapped and lightly discoloured. Jongwoon feared to think of what could have happened if he hadn’t gone to check up on Donghae.
Jongwoon got up slowly and edged closer to Donghae, being mindful to not wake the latter up. Brushing away Donghae’s fringe, Jongwoon rested his palm on the exposed forehead. He grimaced when he didn’t detect a notable fall in temperature with his previous examination fifteen minutes ago.
Retracting his hand, Jongwoon adjusted the covers of his bed, ensuring that they gave Donghae ample protection. After patting and smoothening the covers one last time, Jongwoon stood up and vacated the room, leaving Donghae alone to recover.
-
It wasn’t the feeble beams of sunlight peeking through the blinds of a nearby window that effectively roused Donghae from his sleep. Neither was it the slow realization of being in an unfamiliar environment.
The first thing that Donghae had noticed upon waking up was the faint smell of scrambled eggs wafting into the room through its open door.
Such a nostalgic smell, Donghae mused. That, together with the lingering aroma of toast, used to greet Donghae every Saturday morning at his old house.
But Donghae knew that today was a Wednesday, not a Saturday and that a savage fire had long razed his old house to the ground, burning all physical possessions and kin, forcing him to keep all the memories he had made in that house close to his heart.
Donghae pushed the covers off his lethargic body and slid off the bed with a slight thump. Dragging his legs with much difficulty, Donghae peeked nervously from the doorway; the realization that he was in a foreign environment finally hitting him.
“Donghae, is that you? Are you up already?” Donghae’s ears perked up upon hearing the familiar voice.
“Jongwoon-sshi!” He responded cheerfully, shuffling to the direction of the voice.
-
Jongwoon turned away from the stove to see Donghae already settled at the dining table with both of his arms framing his face, probably holding his head up.
“Scrambled eggs, Jongwoon-sshi?” Donghae questioned, even though the answer was obvious.
Laughing at the question all the same, Jongwoon nodded genially. “I was thinking of making some toast as well, but too solid food may not be good for you now-“
“I want some toast, Jongwoon-sshi. Please?”
Jongwoon raised the frying pan from the stove, plating the scrambled eggs. He brought the plate to the dining table and set it down with a smile.
“Sure. Just be patient for a while more, alright?”
-
Donghae brought the buttered toast to his lips before putting it back onto his plate. Jongwoon noticed this and put down his fork, casting Donghae an anxious expression.
“Anything the matter, Donghae?”
The words started to stream out of Donghae’s lips in a jumbled, incoherent mess.
“Thank you so much, Jongwoon-sshi. You don't know how much this means to me-“
Jongwoon had already gotten out of his seat and headed to Donghae’s side. He patted Donghae’s back comfortingly, as the latter attempted to stifle his sobs.
“Ever since my parents died, no one has really cared for me this much,” Donghae revealed, his soft voice cracking from raw emotion. “You went out of your way to take care of me even though you didn’t have any reason to.”
“Don’t think too much about that, Donghae,” Jongwoon cooed, as he applied a slight pressure on Donghae’s shoulder. “Just concentrate on recovering first.”
“Why do you care so much about me, Jongwoon-sshi?”
That question left Jongwoon speechless for the next five minutes.
-
“You know what I think?” Jungsu looked up from his cappuccino when Jongwoon had finished recounting his morning with Donghae to Youngwoon and Jungsu.
Just as how Jongwoon had built up a friendship with Donghae in the past few months, he had also done the same with Jungsu. Youngwoon was all too pleased of course, that his best friend and boyfriend could finally hold a decent and civil conversation together.
Both Jongwoon and Youngwoon directed their full attention to Jungsu, well aware of the elder’s ability to read relationships.
“You’re so protective of him because he reminds you of yourself before you were forced to grow up. Even though Donghae has undergone so much hardship, his upbeat outlook towards life and his innocent smile remain. Attracted to this, you’ve been going out of your way to take care of Donghae in order to safeguard his well-being and childlike attributes,” Jungsu hypothesized.
Jongwoon blinked once. And then, he said, “You’re not diagnosing me with pedophilia, are you? Ow!”
Youngwoon instantly smacked Jongwoon’s head with his rolled-up magazine.
“I’m kidding, Youngwoon! Honestly!” Jongwoon shot Youngwoon a highly affronted look.
Still wearing a scandalized expression, Youngwoon frowned, “Yah! Pedophilia is no joke, alright?”
Jungsu calmly took a sip of his cappuccino, blissfully ignoring the pair’s bickering.
-
Jongwoon slipped into his home, giving the apartment a 180° scan. He frowned when he found no signs of Donghae.
“Donghae?” Jongwoon called out.
“Donghae?” Jongwoon tried again after a few seconds of silence, worry creeping into his voice.
“I’m here, Jongwoon-sshi,” Donghae’s voice finally answered. “I’m on the rooftop.”
-
Upon reaching the surface of the rooftop banister, Jongwoon found Donghae lying supine on the floor with only his jacket as a base.
“The stars are beautiful, aren’t they, Jongwoon-sshi?” Donghae said when Jongwoon went over and sat next to him.
Nodding, Jongwoon titled his head to look up at the clear night sky. “They always have been.”
“It’s such a shame that I haven’t gotten to see them like this until now,” Jongwoon confessed, as he absently played with the edge of Donghae’s well-worn jacket.
Donghae raised his head slightly and turned to look at Jongwoon. “You mean you haven’t sat down like this just to look at the night sky?”
A blush crept upon Jongwoon’s cheeks and he turned away, clearly embarrassed. “Every morning, I tell myself that I’m going to explore this space later at night. However, I’m usually too exhausted to do so after work.”
“I see,” Donghae hummed. “You ought to try looking at the stars at night, Jongwoon-sshi. It really helps me to relax; maybe it’ll do the same for you.”
“Maybe,” Jongwoon shrugged lightly.
Bringing his hand up, Jongwoon frowned at his wristwatch. Standing up, he dusted the back of his pants before shifting to face Donghae.
“I need to go down and prepare dinner. I’ll call out for you when it’s done.”
“I do hope it’s seafood today,” Donghae said cheekily. “You make the best fish and chips.”
Shaking his head in jest, Jongwoon chuckled, “Well, thank you for helping me decide on what we should have for dinner tonight.”
-
It soon became a habit of Donghae’s. Jongwoon would return to a quiet home every day after work. When he had finished preparing dinner, he would call out for Donghae and when the latter had come down from the rooftop, they would have dinner together.
Sometimes, when Jongwoon wasn’t too tired, he would lie beside Donghae on the rooftop, on an old blanket that Jongwoon had draped in the middle of the space. Bits of conversation were usually exchanged in the form of whispers, but both preferred to keep a comfortable silence between them.
Donghae would sigh once in a while, and turn to Jongwoon to flash him a gentle smile. Jongwoon instantly mirrored Donghae’s contented expression; his dark, dilated pupils glinting with affection.
-
Donghae glanced askance at the man beside him; Jongwoon had fallen asleep, his chest rising and falling with each breath.
Nibbling on his lower lip, Donghae sniffed quietly before carefully edging closer. With every shift, he immediately looked up to monitor Jongwoon, whether his slight movements had made the other stir. Donghae continued until he was mere centimetres away from the other male.
Slowly, shakily, Donghae lowered his head until it touched Jongwoon’s chest. Initially stiffening at the contact, the tension in Donghae’s body slowly dissolved and soon, he brought his right hand over to wrap around Jongwoon’s waist.
Gathering the material of Jongwoon’s shirt lightly in his right hand, Donghae closed his eyes.
-
Jongwoon thought that he would never experience it again.
That night, Jongwoon had a dream. He was floating in the ocean, in the ever familiar expanse of water that he used to visit in the past. The soothing sound of the rushing waves, the sparkles that the water gave out when the light rays hit its surface; all of these brought back a pang of nostalgia in him.
Closing his eyes, Jongwoon allowed the gentle waves to rock his body back and forth.
-
There was an unfamiliar weight resting on Jongwoon’s chest. His eyes still clamped shut, he brought up his free, unrestricted hand and tried to reach around to investigate. When his hand got a fistful of hair, he stopped.
Slowly opening his eyes, Jongwoon’s vision was instantly filled with dark, wavy locks. Donghae hadn’t moved an inch from his position since falling asleep; his head still on Jongwoon’s chest and his arm still thrown over the latter’s body.
Jongwoon smiled and gave Donghae’s hair a few light strokes. Letting his hand slip to his side, Jongwoon wrapped his hand around Donghae’s right hand, giving it a soft squeeze.
Thank you.
***
A/N: This is for paradigm_twist! She said that she missed my writing (*krys in a corner*) and she also said that she wanted to see me write something other than YeMin (LOL OTL) so yeah. (: This is probably the longest one-shot I’ve ever written. @_@ And I apologise for the romance part, as it isn’t obvious at all, but it felt kinda weird to add in another more apparent display of affection or two. :/
To the people who still follow or check up on this journal periodically, I’m sorry that I haven’t been updating frequently. Writer’s block paired with being occupied with Hari Raya preparations had me staring at Microsoft Word at the times when I was free enough to type this lol. XD
That said, Selamat Hari Raya everyone! Eid Mubarak! ^^
Comments are appreciated! (:
Edit: andygreeniz mentioned that reading the fic while listening to 'Paradise' by Coldplay is pretty swell, and after listening to it, I have to agree! The song is just too awesome. ;A;
Pairing(s): Yesung/Donghae, minor!Kangin/Leeteuk
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Fluff
Disclaimer: Contrary to popular belief, no one owns them.
Summary: For the longest time, dreams had always eluded Jongwoon's subconscience. It took a humble street urchin to guide him back into the world that he had always longed to return to.
When Jongwoon was younger, he was blessed with dreams every night.
Every night, as Jongwoon was close to entering the world of slumber, he would anticipate the contents of his dream. He sifted through past dreams that he longed to continue or thought up of new ones that he hoped would translate into his sleep. Jongwoon sought pleasure and delight in his subconscience, which wasn’t bound by the harsh tangibility of real life. He found it amazing that even behind shut eyes, he could still experience a world so rich and exciting.
Be it roaming the wide plains of the countryside or floating in the mass expanse of an ocean, Jongwoon enjoyed each and every single one of his dreams. His dream self closed his eyes in bliss when he felt the wind whipping his fringe about his face. He sighed inwardly and contentedly when he heard the calming cascades of waves gently passing by his body. As he turned in the water, his taste buds absorbed the saline taste of the surrounding seawater.
Even the occasional nightmare couldn’t dampen his spirits for long; Jongwoon saw it as an equally enriching experience, being greeted by creeping shadows or exploring an abandoned cityscape. He saw it as a chance to view something that he probably and hopefully would never see in real life.
Jongwoon prided himself on his imagination. He believed that it could put those of many adults’ to shame, and how true he was. Whenever he recounted his dreams to his parents, he was met with the same reaction every single time: A couple of shakes of the head, a hand brought down to muss up his soft, raven locks and a indulgent smile aimed in his direction, which were oftentimes borderline condescending. Jongwoon took no notice or care of his parents’ inability to understand; he appreciated his dreams and that was enough for him.
-
Years flashed by and Jongwoon soon became an adolescent. The frequency of his dreams decreased but he wasn’t worried. He had to stay up at times, burning the midnight oil for assignments that he had stubbornly refused to touch until the deadline (and his nagging mother) started to breathe down his neck.
Jongwoon still continued to dream; in his dreams, he sought solace from the abrupt passage of childhood to adolescence that he still wasn’t accustomed to. Like a wallflower thrust into the spotlight, Jongwoon shrank away when faced with the accumulating duties and responsibilities that he was forced to shoulder, now that he was a youth.
Jongwoon’s physical state may have been that of an adult’s but his mind refused to comply, preferring to stay as a child’s.
-
The end of a year meant the start of another, and Jongwoon was on the brink of adulthood. The endless hours spent with his nose buried in countless of books drained him intensely, both physically and mentally. Averaging twelve hours at his high school left Jongwoon little time for non-academic related pursuits, well, not like he had the energy to do so anyway.
Every night, as Jongwoon collapsed onto the soft duvet, he would curse the education system for how soul-sucking it was. Rolling onto his side, he then chastised himself for letting negativity intrude on his favourite time of the day, the only time where he was allowed to be who he truly was: A free-spirited dreamer.
Unfortunately, his life didn’t agree with him and it soon cruelly robbed him of the one thing and the one place Jongwoon found refuge in. Jongwoon was fast losing control of his subconscious world, the only part of his life that he felt he had a semblance of command over, and it deeply unnerved him. Over time, his dreams became shards; fragmented pieces that he tried so hard to gather, to piece back together. Jongwoon kept being jerked back into reality, into the conscious world which he occasionally despised.
Jongwoon soon stopped having dreams altogether.
-
"So what’s your plan for the evening, Jongwoon?” Youngwoon asked as they exited their office premises and made their way to the car park.
“Hmm,” Jongwoon scrunched up his nose in thought. “Preparing and then inhaling my dinner in record time, trying not to drown myself in the shower and finally, barely making it to my bed just to collapse onto it heavily.”
Youngwoon rolled his eyes at his partner’s monotonous delivery. “That’s what you do every day, Jongwoon."
“Well then, why do you keep asking me the same question over and over again?” It was Jongwoon’s turn for his eyes to move heavenwards. “You do know that I only keep answering just to humour you.”
“As a friend, I take an interest in your activities and would like the best for you. Jungsu said that-" Youngwoon took no heed of Jongwoon’s snort and carried on talking. “While routines provide you with a sense of order in your life, it doesn’t hurt to shake things up from time to time.”
Turning to face the younger man, Jongwoon soon stopped in his tracks and shot Youngwoon a wry, cynical smile.
“I swear, ever since you’ve hooked up with Jungsu, you’ve been trying to change my life. Look, I appreciate it and all but-“
Youngwoon sighed and shook his head. “Like I said, I only want the best for you, Jongwoon. And even though you won’t believe it, Jungsu does as well. He’s a trained psychiatrist; he can help you like how he did for me.”
“I didn’t appreciate how he branded me as complex and intriguing after just ten minutes of our first encounter,” Jongwoon said, biting his lips unconsciously at the recollection of the memory. “Like ten minutes was enough to determine the type of person I am.”
Youngwoon brought his free arm out and gestured emphatically at himself. “People take one good look at me and they can tell that I have a short fuse. Jongwoon, some of our attributes are obvious and some of them, well, need time to be uncovered. You shouldn’t be offended by Jungsu, he meant no harm. He still asks about your well-being occasionally, did you know that?”
Jongwoon’s frown faltered for a split second, but he immediately forced his lips into a tight, thin line.
“Tell Jungsu that I’m doing just fine, and that his concern is much displaced.”
“You’re impossibly difficult,” Youngwoon declared, folding his arms across his chest in defeat.
“I pride myself on that.”
-
Despite being a real estate agent, the premises in which Jongwoon occupied could be considered unfitting. He lived in a fairly nondescript building, occupying the penthouse apartment. Jongwoon found humour in the irony of the building; its unassuming appearance belied its value. Located in the heart of the city, the building stood on a plot of land that was quickly appreciating in value. Sure, Jongwoon had considered that before closing the deal on the apartment, but he was more interested in the roof space above it. He had always found living in the city stifling, so the open roof space was a much needed reprieve from the closed-up buildings down below.
Whenever Jongwoon glanced at the stairway leading to the roof space in the morning, he would remind himself to explore the space more intimately at night. However, the thought was always pushed aside by his fatigue, his worries, his work, all brought about by his daily life.
Jongwoon really did spend his time after work as he had narrated to Youngwoon. He had to begrudgingly admit that what Jungsu had said was right; he did find comfort in his rigid, structured routine. (Not that he would ever admit to either Youngwoon or Jungsu, no way.)
-
Jongwoon was on his way to the nearby coffee joint after work. It was one of the few indulgences he allowed himself; a freshly-brewed cup of bespoke coffee, catering precisely to his tastes. As he walked casually along the sidewalk, he took little notice of the group of trendily-dressed youths approaching him. The youth facing his left roughly brushed against his shoulder, causing Jongwoon to turn and frown at him. At that exact moment, the other two youths took advantage of Jongwoon’s distractedness and grabbed his briefcase from his right hand, which had slackened at that instant.
Stunned, Jongwoon could only stand immobile as the gang burst into a dash, carting away his briefcase, which contained many invaluable documents.
My documents!
Jongwoon quickly let loose a string of profanities, all of them muttered harshly under his breath, as he gave chase to the hooligans. His precious documents, including the one concerning the restored house in Bukchon Hanok Village, were in that briefcase! There was no way that Jongwoon would let those youths go.
Blood pounded loudly in his ears; it was the only sound that Jongwoon could currently register. Almost all of his energy was channeled into his mad sprint. Jongwoon was rapidly closing in on the youths, whose expressions, upon looking back at Jongwoon, clearly broadcasted their thoughts that he was crazy for tailing them after this far.
The youths soon detoured into an alley and Jongwoon followed. However, the momentum during his turn proved too much for him and he lost his footing. Not bothering with censoring himself this time, Jongwoon let fly his favoured cuss word as loud as he could. Bringing his hands before himself instinctively, Jongwoon managed to cushion his fall. Still, his palms which bore the brunt of the impact stung painfully.
Brushing the bits of cement off his raw palms against his pants, Jongwoon slowly brought himself up. His eyes instantly began scanning the entire alley and he sighed heavily upon registering that none of the youths were in sight. His legs chose that exact moment to buckle under him, the effects of accumulated lactic acid in his calf muscles finally kicking in. Jongwoon stooped tiredly, trying to support his upper body and catch his breath at the same time.
“Sir?” A soft voice echoed meekly above him. “Are you alright?”
Jongwoon slowly brought his head up and came face to face with a wiry youth, a completely unfamiliar face. His eyes studied the male’s pale face, which was strangely full of tiny, shallow cuts and specks of dirt, and slowly trailed down to his tattered collar and then to the black briefcase he was holding against his chest-
Wait. That’s…
Jongwoon’s eyes widened at the sight of the familiar briefcase, his briefcase in fact. Still in the midst of regaining his breath, Jongwoon gestured awkwardly at the briefcase and then pointed to himself, hoping that the male got the hint.
The male pursed his lips in confusion, obviously not comprehending Jongwoon’s gestural language at all.
“It’s…” Jongwoon croaked weakly. “Mine… That’s-“
“Oh!” The male cut Jongwoon off. “So this briefcase belongs to you? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
Finally straightening his back, Jongwoon nodded slowly.
The male’s thin lips quirked into a smile and he held out the briefcase for Jongwoon to reclaim it.
“Well, if that’s all, I best be on my way- Sir?“ The male cocked a questioning brow at Jongwoon, who had reached out and grabbed the former’s shoulders.
“T-thank you,” Jongwoon panted. “Thank you so much for retrieving it for me. Let me buy you a meal, please.”
“Sir?” The male’s expression softened as Jongwoon increased the pressure on his shoulders.
“Please.”
-
Jongwoon felt the need to direct sidelong glances at the male next to him every few seconds; he had an unfounded fear that said male would suddenly run away for some strange reason. It couldn’t be far from the truth. The male casually kept in step with Jongwoon, his hands tucked into the pockets of his ill-fitting sweatpants.
As Jongwoon pushed open the door to the cozy dinner, the overhanging welcoming bell jingled softly. The male let out an amused chuckle at the sound, and Jongwoon was fascinated at how carefree his chuckle had sounded.
-
“So,” Jongwoon started, glancing up from the menu to the male seated opposite him. “What would you like to eat?”
“Donghae,” The male stated.
“Huh?”
“My name’s Donghae. Full name Lee Donghae, in case you’re wondering,” Donghae chuckled. “It would be pretty weird to have a meal with someone whose name you don’t even know, right?”
“You’re not implying that I’m weird, are you?” Jongwoon immediately spoke up. “And Kim Jongwoon’s the name.”
Donghae laughed and shook his head. “Not in the slightest, Jongwoon-sshi. I just thought that it would less awkward for the both of us if we exchanged our names.”
“Oh.” Jongwoon shrank back in his seat. “Well, Donghae, what would you like to order?”
Donghae began scanning the menu intently, his eyes widening and narrowing in obvious approval and disapproval at the choices. Once again, Donghae’s unrestrained mannerisms caught Jongwoon’s attention. He watched Donghae interestedly as the latter bit his bottom lip in apparent concentration, as if choosing a set from the menu was an immensely difficult task.
“I’ll have the Kalguksu set,” Donghae declared after looking up from the menu.
Jongwoon smiled. “Alright then.”
-
“So Donghae,” Jongwoon attempted to initiate a conversation when he saw that Donghae was halfway through his bowl of noodles. “Do you live around here?”
Raising his head in response, Donghae paused before replying, “You can say that this whole neighbourhood is my home.”
“Huh?”
Setting his chopsticks gently onto the bowl, Donghae spread out his hands. “I don’t have a proper home, Jongwoon-sshi. I sleep wherever I feel is most comfortable for the night.”
Jongwoon tensed immediately, dropping his gaze to his bowl of Bibimbap.
“Your parents?” Jongwoon choked out.
“Dead,” Donghae said simply. “I’ve been living out on the streets for at least five years now.”
“I’m- I’m,” Jongwoon stuttered feebly, unable to formulate a proper response to Donghae’s revelation.
"Sorry? Don’t be, Jongwoon-sshi,” Donghae said calmly, offering Jongwoon a small smile.
Donghae took up his chopsticks and resumed eating. Jongwoon, on the other hand, was fumbling with his long metal spoon; his fingers had suddenly grown clammy.
The two of them continued their meal in a stilted silence, which was occasionally broken by slurps from Donghae.
“Thank you for the meal, Jongwoon-sshi,” Donghae said earnestly and he gave Jongwoon a small nod of his head.
“…You’re welcome, Donghae,” Jongwoon forced himself to smile.
Donghae returned the smile, the corners of his mouth lifting in response.
His smile didn’t reach his eyes, Jongwoon noted silently.
-
It was two weeks till Jongwoon met Donghae again.
It was purely a chance encounter; Jongwoon had sent a pair of his shoes to the neighbourhood cobbler and somehow bumped into Donghae, of all people.
“Jongwoon-sshi!” Donghae was the first to react.
“Oh, Donghae, hello there,” Jongwoon said mutedly, their conversation from their first encounter suddenly fresh in his mind. “What are you doing here?”
Donghae glanced back at the building behind him and smiled. “Three times a week, I attend classes at this community college. I’m hoping to take up an administrative job once I’m finished here.”
Jongwoon frowned at the relative ease of getting Donghae to divulge information about himself.
Shouldn’t he be at least a little more guarded with a stranger he’s met only twice in his life?
“Jongwoon-sshi?” Donghae blinked confusedly at Jongwoon’s sudden muteness.
“Coffee,” The word slipped out of Jongwoon’s lips. “Would you like to have coffee with me?”
-
Donghae followed the wisps of steam rising from the mug of caramel macchiato that he held in between his hands. Jongwoon brought his own mug of coffee to his lips, and when he brought it back onto the table, Donghae still hadn’t taken a single sip.
“Something wrong, Donghae?” Jongwoon questioned worriedly. “Is the coffee still too hot for you?”
Looking up from his mug, Donghae shook his head fervently. “Not at all, Jongwoon-sshi! I’m just watching the steam rising from the coffee.”
“…Okay,” Jongwoon said after a pregnant pause; he was unsure on how to respond to that statement.
Donghae glanced at Jongwoon’s half-empty cup and commented, “You must really enjoy your coffee, Jongwoon-sshi!”
Jongwoon took one look at the mug and then back at Donghae. “It’s one of the few things in life I enjoy, frankly.”
Donghae leaned forward in his seat, his eyes narrowed in mild bemusement. “You mean that you don’t really enjoy life, Jongwoon-sshi?”
“I don’t enjoy my life, Donghae,” Jongwoon corrected him. And then, he stopped himself.
Perplexed by Jongwoon’s abrupt silence, Donghae frowned even harder.
“Jongwoon-sshi?” Donghae prompted tentatively.
Heaving a huge sigh, Jongwoon shook his head tiredly. “Forget I even said that; that was incredibly rude and insensitive of me. I’m sorry.”
“Oh,” Donghae said, clearly not understanding the turn in their conversation.
“Look,” Jongwoon breathed out, his voice almost coming out as a hiss. “I’m sorry because well, here I am complaining about my life, in front of you. That’s just plain rude on my part, isn’t it?”
Donghae contemplated Jongwoon’s words for a moment before nodding slowly.
“You should teach me how to enjoy life, Donghae,” Jongwoon proposed half-seriously. “If I were in your shoes, I would have cast myself off the nearest bridge.”
“Well,” Donghae brought his hand to his chin, before rubbing it in thought. “I just try not to think of the bad things and concentrate on the present. Sometimes, if things go bad, then maybe they were bound to have turned out bad in the first place.”
“That’s akin to having low expectations, Donghae,” Jongwoon said.
“It’s not that I have low expectations, Jongwoon-sshi. It’s just that I see no point in wasting energy in complaining or dwelling on events that happened in the past. Things that will go their way will do so, and likewise, if things were doomed from the start, then that’s too bad.”
Donghae’s views were completely childlike, in terms of their simplicity, Jongwoon thought. It certainly varied greatly from his own.
-
After their second encounter, Jongwoon began anticipating their chance meetings. Whenever he was in the neighbourhood where Donghae stayed in, Jongwoon half-expected Donghae to somehow materialize out of thin air. Jongwoon himself didn’t understand why he looked forward to seeing Donghae so much.
On the instances when they did meet, Jongwoon would always offer to buy Donghae coffee. Surprisingly, Donghae didn’t accept his offer readily half of the time, citing various reasons such as “I already have other plans” or “I’m not in the mood for coffee today”. Jongwoon soon realized that it wasn’t insolence on Donghae’s part, but mere playfulness.
-
Donghae was like a nomad, never staying at the same spot twice in a row. One day, Jongwoon would find him in the alley next to their usual coffee joint and on the next, Jongwoon would stumble across him in the neighbourhood park, humming an odd tune as he perched on his favourite park bench. By now, Jongwoon possessed a faint knowledge of Donghae’s routine, having understood its slight predictability. At night, Donghae would either sleep on the park bench or at a discontinued bus stop near his community college if it was fine weather, or retreat to the nearest underground subway shelter if it was raining.
Not wanting to intrude on Donghae’s privacy or insult his dignity in any way, Jongwoon merely offered him meals or money to buy new clothes. Jongwoon acknowledged that Donghae had managed to support himself for the past five years, yet he wanted to alleviate Donghae’s burden in any way that he could. It heartened him to be by Donghae’s side as he watched the latter tuck into a steaming bowl of ddeokbokki and it amused him to see Donghae dressed in recently purchased clothes that were still hanging off his lean frame. (He had grown too accustomed to baggy clothes, he claimed.)
Although Jongwoon didn’t realize it, he did all of this out of his own good will. He never expected Donghae to return his favours in any way; the sincere, innocent smile he flashed at Jongwoon was payment enough.
-
Autumn was fast approaching and Jongwoon was growing worried about Donghae. The weather forecasts were broadcasting a predicted drastic drop in temperature which definitely didn’t bode well for Donghae.
Jongwoon headed to the park one day, that day being one of those days when Donghae didn’t have any classes. Armed with an old parka, Jongwoon strode hurriedly to that familiar park bench, expecting to see Donghae waving excitedly at him from afar. Instead, Donghae remained still, his arms folded tightly across his chest. Jongwoon immediately quickened his pace, the creases on his forehead deepening as he drew nearer.
“DONGHAE!”
By the time Jongwoon reached Donghae’s side, it was already too late. The younger man had keeled over and fainted, exhaustion and illness evident on his pale, hard-lined face.
-
Sitting on the edge of his own bed, Jongwoon sighed as he gazed at its current occupant. Tucked beneath layers of quilt and duvet was Donghae. The lines on his face had evened out and his eyes were no longer scrunched up in discomfort, both signs that his condition was at least improving. However, his thin lips remained chapped and lightly discoloured. Jongwoon feared to think of what could have happened if he hadn’t gone to check up on Donghae.
Jongwoon got up slowly and edged closer to Donghae, being mindful to not wake the latter up. Brushing away Donghae’s fringe, Jongwoon rested his palm on the exposed forehead. He grimaced when he didn’t detect a notable fall in temperature with his previous examination fifteen minutes ago.
Retracting his hand, Jongwoon adjusted the covers of his bed, ensuring that they gave Donghae ample protection. After patting and smoothening the covers one last time, Jongwoon stood up and vacated the room, leaving Donghae alone to recover.
-
It wasn’t the feeble beams of sunlight peeking through the blinds of a nearby window that effectively roused Donghae from his sleep. Neither was it the slow realization of being in an unfamiliar environment.
The first thing that Donghae had noticed upon waking up was the faint smell of scrambled eggs wafting into the room through its open door.
Such a nostalgic smell, Donghae mused. That, together with the lingering aroma of toast, used to greet Donghae every Saturday morning at his old house.
But Donghae knew that today was a Wednesday, not a Saturday and that a savage fire had long razed his old house to the ground, burning all physical possessions and kin, forcing him to keep all the memories he had made in that house close to his heart.
Donghae pushed the covers off his lethargic body and slid off the bed with a slight thump. Dragging his legs with much difficulty, Donghae peeked nervously from the doorway; the realization that he was in a foreign environment finally hitting him.
“Donghae, is that you? Are you up already?” Donghae’s ears perked up upon hearing the familiar voice.
“Jongwoon-sshi!” He responded cheerfully, shuffling to the direction of the voice.
-
Jongwoon turned away from the stove to see Donghae already settled at the dining table with both of his arms framing his face, probably holding his head up.
“Scrambled eggs, Jongwoon-sshi?” Donghae questioned, even though the answer was obvious.
Laughing at the question all the same, Jongwoon nodded genially. “I was thinking of making some toast as well, but too solid food may not be good for you now-“
“I want some toast, Jongwoon-sshi. Please?”
Jongwoon raised the frying pan from the stove, plating the scrambled eggs. He brought the plate to the dining table and set it down with a smile.
“Sure. Just be patient for a while more, alright?”
-
Donghae brought the buttered toast to his lips before putting it back onto his plate. Jongwoon noticed this and put down his fork, casting Donghae an anxious expression.
“Anything the matter, Donghae?”
The words started to stream out of Donghae’s lips in a jumbled, incoherent mess.
“Thank you so much, Jongwoon-sshi. You don't know how much this means to me-“
Jongwoon had already gotten out of his seat and headed to Donghae’s side. He patted Donghae’s back comfortingly, as the latter attempted to stifle his sobs.
“Ever since my parents died, no one has really cared for me this much,” Donghae revealed, his soft voice cracking from raw emotion. “You went out of your way to take care of me even though you didn’t have any reason to.”
“Don’t think too much about that, Donghae,” Jongwoon cooed, as he applied a slight pressure on Donghae’s shoulder. “Just concentrate on recovering first.”
“Why do you care so much about me, Jongwoon-sshi?”
That question left Jongwoon speechless for the next five minutes.
-
“You know what I think?” Jungsu looked up from his cappuccino when Jongwoon had finished recounting his morning with Donghae to Youngwoon and Jungsu.
Just as how Jongwoon had built up a friendship with Donghae in the past few months, he had also done the same with Jungsu. Youngwoon was all too pleased of course, that his best friend and boyfriend could finally hold a decent and civil conversation together.
Both Jongwoon and Youngwoon directed their full attention to Jungsu, well aware of the elder’s ability to read relationships.
“You’re so protective of him because he reminds you of yourself before you were forced to grow up. Even though Donghae has undergone so much hardship, his upbeat outlook towards life and his innocent smile remain. Attracted to this, you’ve been going out of your way to take care of Donghae in order to safeguard his well-being and childlike attributes,” Jungsu hypothesized.
Jongwoon blinked once. And then, he said, “You’re not diagnosing me with pedophilia, are you? Ow!”
Youngwoon instantly smacked Jongwoon’s head with his rolled-up magazine.
“I’m kidding, Youngwoon! Honestly!” Jongwoon shot Youngwoon a highly affronted look.
Still wearing a scandalized expression, Youngwoon frowned, “Yah! Pedophilia is no joke, alright?”
Jungsu calmly took a sip of his cappuccino, blissfully ignoring the pair’s bickering.
-
Jongwoon slipped into his home, giving the apartment a 180° scan. He frowned when he found no signs of Donghae.
“Donghae?” Jongwoon called out.
“Donghae?” Jongwoon tried again after a few seconds of silence, worry creeping into his voice.
“I’m here, Jongwoon-sshi,” Donghae’s voice finally answered. “I’m on the rooftop.”
-
Upon reaching the surface of the rooftop banister, Jongwoon found Donghae lying supine on the floor with only his jacket as a base.
“The stars are beautiful, aren’t they, Jongwoon-sshi?” Donghae said when Jongwoon went over and sat next to him.
Nodding, Jongwoon titled his head to look up at the clear night sky. “They always have been.”
“It’s such a shame that I haven’t gotten to see them like this until now,” Jongwoon confessed, as he absently played with the edge of Donghae’s well-worn jacket.
Donghae raised his head slightly and turned to look at Jongwoon. “You mean you haven’t sat down like this just to look at the night sky?”
A blush crept upon Jongwoon’s cheeks and he turned away, clearly embarrassed. “Every morning, I tell myself that I’m going to explore this space later at night. However, I’m usually too exhausted to do so after work.”
“I see,” Donghae hummed. “You ought to try looking at the stars at night, Jongwoon-sshi. It really helps me to relax; maybe it’ll do the same for you.”
“Maybe,” Jongwoon shrugged lightly.
Bringing his hand up, Jongwoon frowned at his wristwatch. Standing up, he dusted the back of his pants before shifting to face Donghae.
“I need to go down and prepare dinner. I’ll call out for you when it’s done.”
“I do hope it’s seafood today,” Donghae said cheekily. “You make the best fish and chips.”
Shaking his head in jest, Jongwoon chuckled, “Well, thank you for helping me decide on what we should have for dinner tonight.”
-
It soon became a habit of Donghae’s. Jongwoon would return to a quiet home every day after work. When he had finished preparing dinner, he would call out for Donghae and when the latter had come down from the rooftop, they would have dinner together.
Sometimes, when Jongwoon wasn’t too tired, he would lie beside Donghae on the rooftop, on an old blanket that Jongwoon had draped in the middle of the space. Bits of conversation were usually exchanged in the form of whispers, but both preferred to keep a comfortable silence between them.
Donghae would sigh once in a while, and turn to Jongwoon to flash him a gentle smile. Jongwoon instantly mirrored Donghae’s contented expression; his dark, dilated pupils glinting with affection.
-
Donghae glanced askance at the man beside him; Jongwoon had fallen asleep, his chest rising and falling with each breath.
Nibbling on his lower lip, Donghae sniffed quietly before carefully edging closer. With every shift, he immediately looked up to monitor Jongwoon, whether his slight movements had made the other stir. Donghae continued until he was mere centimetres away from the other male.
Slowly, shakily, Donghae lowered his head until it touched Jongwoon’s chest. Initially stiffening at the contact, the tension in Donghae’s body slowly dissolved and soon, he brought his right hand over to wrap around Jongwoon’s waist.
Gathering the material of Jongwoon’s shirt lightly in his right hand, Donghae closed his eyes.
-
Jongwoon thought that he would never experience it again.
That night, Jongwoon had a dream. He was floating in the ocean, in the ever familiar expanse of water that he used to visit in the past. The soothing sound of the rushing waves, the sparkles that the water gave out when the light rays hit its surface; all of these brought back a pang of nostalgia in him.
Closing his eyes, Jongwoon allowed the gentle waves to rock his body back and forth.
-
There was an unfamiliar weight resting on Jongwoon’s chest. His eyes still clamped shut, he brought up his free, unrestricted hand and tried to reach around to investigate. When his hand got a fistful of hair, he stopped.
Slowly opening his eyes, Jongwoon’s vision was instantly filled with dark, wavy locks. Donghae hadn’t moved an inch from his position since falling asleep; his head still on Jongwoon’s chest and his arm still thrown over the latter’s body.
Jongwoon smiled and gave Donghae’s hair a few light strokes. Letting his hand slip to his side, Jongwoon wrapped his hand around Donghae’s right hand, giving it a soft squeeze.
Thank you.
***
A/N: This is for paradigm_twist! She said that she missed my writing (*krys in a corner*) and she also said that she wanted to see me write something other than YeMin (LOL OTL) so yeah. (: This is probably the longest one-shot I’ve ever written. @_@ And I apologise for the romance part, as it isn’t obvious at all, but it felt kinda weird to add in another more apparent display of affection or two. :/
To the people who still follow or check up on this journal periodically, I’m sorry that I haven’t been updating frequently. Writer’s block paired with being occupied with Hari Raya preparations had me staring at Microsoft Word at the times when I was free enough to type this lol. XD
That said, Selamat Hari Raya everyone! Eid Mubarak! ^^
Comments are appreciated! (:
Edit: andygreeniz mentioned that reading the fic while listening to 'Paradise' by Coldplay is pretty swell, and after listening to it, I have to agree! The song is just too awesome. ;A;
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