[TC/010] Secret Eaves [Donghae/Sungmin, PG-13]
Title: Secret Eaves
Pairing: Donghae/Sungmin
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, Fluff(?), Romance
Length: one-shot
Disclaimer: I don't own any of them, SME does. Plot is mine.
Summary: This is a city where rainfall seems to happen every day, yet, it doesn't bring upon sad memories and depressing occurrences, but happy beginnings and what's meant to be more than just a secret evening.
Warning: Un-beta'd. New writing style. Awkward fluff (because it's my first time writing full-fledge-fluff?)
Bustling city shops, rowdy crowds, heavy rainfall...
When he lifts his eyes from the ground, protected by his hands over his brows, it’s the same face that he sees there everyday. A smile graces him, leading him to bite down on his lip to force back the unintentional happiness.
The walk to the other side of the street is not far, but it feels oceans apart. Divided by the cars, the street lights, the crystallized raindrops, the voices and the commotion, he isn’t able to muster up the courage to take those several dozen steps forward.
Instead, he sneaks around the people quickly, shielding himself from the wet weather as best as he can, and enters the tunnel towards the subway station; head hung low, glasses sitting on his high nose.
Day after day, he accustoms to this routine until one day, when the rainfall decides to intervene.
-
Sungmin likes being outdoors.
When he finds himself confined inside a small coffee shop, his job consisting of taking orders and smiling flawlessly at their customers, he relishes in the sole fact that the windows are large and transparent, allowing him to look into the outside world.
In that outside world, there is a handsome face behind fogged glasses that he often catches staring at himself.
Though the geographical placement of their small town on the globe tells them that their annual amount of rainfall is enough to moisturize the countries living in the most horrible of droughts, Sungmin finds sunshine in that face that shies away from his eyes.
They are separated by a window and the rain.
Rain becomes what brings them together for a fateful meeting.
-
“Your coffee smells nice. Where’d you get it?”
Not that he doesn’t already know.
That wasn’t his ideal way to start a conversation with the other, but it would have to suffice in the cold and dreary weather. With drops of rain dripping from his hair, he hopes he doesn’t come off as odd or unnatural.
It seems to be working.
“Would you like some?” The stranger asks, holding out his cup.
Donghae holds his breath, clutching his hands together out of old habit. “Pardon?”
The other man laughs. “I’m just kidding.”
“Oh.” Donghae huffs and he sounds regretful, almost. “The rain is awfully big.”
Accompanied by a nod, the young man hums in agreement. “Always rains here.”
Donghae is a little disappointed at his tone-the type of tone one uses with a foreigner, with someone who may not belong. “I know,” Donghae snaps, in an attempt to defend his lost pride.
Maybe he shouldn’t allow himself to be so bitter. (What’s he so bitter about anyways?) So, he lowers his head and stares at the wet, water stained cement ground.
“I mean, I’m sorry…” Donghae trails off, not really knowing exactly what to say in order to compensate for his earlier reaction.
The man shrugs it off, slightly turning the other way.
Great, Donghae thinks, now he’s done it. “I really didn’t mean to offend you, I just-“
But then the stranger smiles and it’s that smile that Donghae loves to see so much every so often from a distance, under the rainy sky. Puffs of clouds form when the stranger laughs, his lips creating that beautiful arch on his clear skin.
Donghae blushes, secretly smiling to himself.
“I’m Sungmin,” the other offers.
There’s a thrumming in Donghae’s ears and the name kind of slips past him as he’s trying to comprehend that the stranger is waiting to know his name in return. “Sorry?”
Sungmin chuckles, tilting his head (and then his raven black hair falls over his eyes as they upturn into crescents, and it’s possibly the most breathtaking scene Donghae has ever witnessed), and leans back against the brick wall of the building. “I’m Sungmin. What’s your name?”
“Donghae.” He says, and he wonders if he sounds too eager to offer his own name.
Looking up towards the cloudy skies, Sungmin takes a deep breath, his smile ever present on his bright face. “Fitting.”
Rainy days have always been the most beautiful ones.
-
“On a scale of one to ten, I’d say he’s pushing a seven.”
His friend side eyes him, tapping away at his keyboard as he scoots his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. He tries pretending Donghae is invisible and that he’s incapable of hearing nonsense speech.
It, obviously, does not work.
A pillow hits him right dab in the face.
“Hey! Are you even listening to me, Henry?!” Donghae purses his lips.
Henry scuffles with his wrist cuffs and pushes his sleeves all the way up his arm until they are just over his elbows when he successfully rips them off. “Take your homosexual matters elsewhere, Donghae. I’ve got a webpage to program if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t.” Donghae replies bluntly.
This Henry is an unamused Henry.
“Even though he’s not the best looking guy out there, he’s just-there’s just something about him, Henry. You don’t understand!” Donghae begins. “Okay, maybe it has something to do with the way he smiles and the way the rain falls over his hair, and maybe even the fact that he’s beautiful even when we’re sitting under some torn down shelter in the middle of the rusty city, where it’s dark and musky and humid, but that’s not the point-“
Henry stops knowing what ”the point” of it all was when Donghae lost him at the term “guy”. Apparently, Mr. Not-The-Best-Looking-Guy-Out-There is as good looking to Donghae as finishing his web programming looks to Henry right now.
That is, in short, very good looking.
As Henry is still processing these thoughts amidst his furious typing, he can still subtly hear Donghae grumbling on and on about how he’s watched Mr. Hot-Stuff from a distance every day and everyday he just starts looking better and better.
Admittedly, Henry is slightly intimidated by his best friend right now.
“Do I need to hack his facebook and steal his phone number for you or something, Mr. Freaky-Stalker?” Henry growls. “Or should I just search him up and warn him of your freakish ways?”
“No,” Donghae gasps, wide-eyed and flustered. “You wouldn’t! I mean, I’m not-“
Henry grins in satisfaction. “Get out.”
Donghae juts out his bottom lip, crossing his arms over his chest and just glares at Henry. Hard. “You fail the best-friend-test.”
“You failed at being a stalker.” Henry counters matter of factly. “You barely even caught his name.”
The older of two parts his lips as though he wants to argue but he ends up opening and closing his mouth several times, void of words and empty with threats. “You suck,” is the best he can muster before he turns on his heels and stomps out of the dark dorm room.
As he’s leaving, Donghae can hear the keyboard being abused ten times louder and about a hundred times faster than before. He must have caught Henry at a bad time, he reasons. There is no other valid explanation to the way Henry is mistreating him.
In the security of his lone abode, Henry glares holes through the door after Donghae has left. Then he glances down sadly at the mess of electronic parts littered over the ground of where Donghae had rummaged past.
“Stupid Donghae,” he mutters with a sob, a single tear escaping his eyes when his gaze lands on what’s left of the one and only Topaz Tier Magma Armory he personally created with remnants of his forlorn soul.
He sighs, shaking his head in discouragement as he returns to his web programming.
No point in physical revenge, he thinks bitterly. That would only leave him with more casualties of his own work.
Then he remembers the Mr. Good-Looking-Stranger that Donghae had mentioned moments ago and a smirk finds its way to his face.
This is good, he nods charmingly. This is very good.
-
Sungmin can’t really pinpoint why, though he considers the option, he doesn’t pick up the habit of bringing a second cup of coffee to the secret rain shelter with him.
A certain someone will remark every time how nice his coffee smells, and Sungmin will always teasingly offer his cup to the other, and the other never does take it, but Sungmin doesn’t find it in any way irritating or offensive.
He just smiles and eases his hold on the cup, turning his face away with that thinned lip grin of his, cheeks red in amusement.
(Maybe he’s secretly hoping that the other man will take his cup, along with something else that beats that extra thud harder to impose on.)
-
Donghae dreams of a dimension collated on a scale of forestry green.
The world is bright- dreamy, as some may call it, but it doesn’t hurt the eyes and Donghae doesn’t quite find himself desiring to leave. The trees are breath taking-their leaves even more so-and he relaxes into this scenery so much that he kind of loses himself in it. Almost.
And then a smile appears, and it softens every last nerve in his body, leaving Donghae stranded on nothing but feelings.
This world doesn’t hurt, but his feelings kind of do when a loud buzzing noise invades his ears and pulls him back to reality.
He doesn’t remember what he dreamt about that morning after he wakes up but he awakes to the aroma of coffee and, instantaneously, a familiar smile surfaces in the back of his highlighted vision.
That’s when Donghae decides that, whatever the dream may have been, it must have been a decent one.
-
Sungmin receives something of a love letter in his email, signed anonymous, some days down the road and quirks his eyebrows at it until he thinks it would melt if a virtual letter could do so.
“Odd,” he utters, running his thumb over his bottom lip.
The senders email reads east.sea.1015@rocketmail.com.
Sungmin bites down on his lip, his eyes holding a judgmental edge to them. Who in the world actually uses rocketmail anymore? Huh. Must be Kyuhyun playing a joke on him from next door. He could get him back for that later.
Though, the small raindrop symbol that acts as a signature in the letter does catch Sungmin’s now rather undivided attention.
He saves the email to his inbox and prints out a draft of the text, folding it before tucking it somewhere deep inside his wallet. It would be a lie if he said he didn’t have a certain someone in mind when he first caught sight of the raindrop, but everyone has their doubts.
But maybe. Just maybe.
-
“I’m famous.” Donghae declares to Sungmin.
The other man tries to hide his laugh. “Oh really? How so?”
Donghae is slightly offended. “I’ve worked with political figures numerous times. I’m practically their personal designer.”
“You’re in design?” Sungmin asks.
“Documents creation,” Donghae corrects. “Close enough though, I suppose. Forms, headliners, brochures, business cards-you name it, I design it.”
Sungmin smiles. “That’s neat. You must have a lot of awesome and smart friends.”
“You wanted to say geeks.” Donghae accuses.
“Yes, I admit it. That was exactly what I meant to say.” Sungmin chides, nose scrunched up under the paled street lights. The pitter patter of the rain drains out his voice, but his expressions say it all. He looks gorgeous. “It sounds like a fun job, though.”
Donghae nods, thinning his lips. It’s cold, wet, and life has never seemed to have been so peaceful before. “What about you? Do you do anything aside from your job at the cafe?”
“I’ve got quite a few side jobs.” Sungmin shrugs. “Nothing interesting though.”
It’s a lie and Donghae is sure of it. There’s a certain spark in Sungmin’s eyes when he thinks of his life and his job (jobs?) but, for whatever reason, he is hesitant of sharing it with Donghae.
Someday, Donghae thinks. Someday he will break Sungmin out of his shell.
-
The emails continue coming every now and then. Sungmin continues being skeptical.
One after another, the emails start looking less and less like a love letter and more and more like something of diary entries. Sometimes, as he’s reading his inbox, he feels as though he’s intruding some strangers personal space- trespassing inappropriate boundaries- but all of them have something or another to do with him.
Sungmin decides to lay off of confronting Kyuhyun and considers a little more seriously about asking Donghae whether or not these emails are from him.
Of course, he conveniently forgets the next time he runs into Donghae under wet skies again. This time, they promise to meet up on a day they are both free and plan to maybe get a drink and some food before heading to bookstore to check out the latest bestsellers.
Donghae also swears he knows where the best churros are and Sungmin excitedly widens his eyes, nodding and clapping his hands together when Donghae offers to buy.
And when he returns home, dragging out his bag and finding his email filled folder, he scowls at himself and tosses them aside.
He then forgets to replace them inside his messengers pack and they are deserted in a corner of his living room, left to collect dust.
Not for long, though.
-
“I don’t like reading much.” Sungmin confesses. He points at the book sitting in front of himself and then gestures to his brain. “Too many words, too little attention span.”
Donghae laughs, hesitantly pushing the book he had picked from the shelf back into its rightful place. “I don’t like them much either.”
Liar, Sungmin thinks, but he keeps the thought to himself. “Hm.”
Judging by the others expression, Donghae knows he had made some sort of a unintelligent mistake. He looks around and spots another aisle, turning to grab Sungmin by the wrist and dragging him along without a second thought.
Sungmin stares at their linked arms. He smiles.
“I like picture books! I’ve always liked picture books,” Donghae grins toothily.
The other man chuckles, patting Donghae on the head. “Awww. Is our little Donghae excited to have found his children’s section?”
Donghae pouts.
“I’m kidding.” Sungmin laughs. “I like them too.” He glances at the books and randomly pulls one off of the nearest shelf. “See? Childhood favorite. Really.”
Though the frappuccino in Donghae’s hold sends small chills through his hands every now and then, he feels as though his palm is burning when he reaches out and holds Sungmin’s hand in his own. His smile is reckless, all teeth and no eyes, but something about this moment has frozen over and set his heart on fire.
In the good way, of course.
Sungmin moulds his hand into Donghae’s and fits their fingers perfectly into place as he replaces the book back where it belongs. “Let’s check out the sci-fi,” he says, “I’ve been pretty curious about this new book that was released based on a game I used to play…”
He’s never understood sci-fi (nor has he ever ventured into the realm of video games, because his parents have warned him of their various dangers-by goodness, the monsters!) but when they reach the section and he sees Sungmin’s eyes light up like foxes, he finds himself enjoying this just as much as he would have in the non-fiction aisle.
And, okay, he admits that this is kind of cheesy, but he really feels the need to do it anyways.
He stares.
Hard.
“What are you looking at?” Sungmin asks, eyebrows knitted together awkwardly while holding a book he picked from the shelf against his heart.
Donghae sighs. “I-”
A flash of lightning shakes them both from their ground and they quickly run to the nearest window, peeking out into the sky. The clouds have suddenly darkened, large droplets of rain falling from above.
Pitter patter, pitter patter.
Sungmin laughs, shaking his head softly. “It’s like we’re destined to always run into this weather. Maybe we’re not meant to be.”
“Hey.” Donghae frowns.
They stare outside for a while longer, enjoying the scenery before them slowly being engulfed in wafts of air and water, dampening, darkening, but never so calming.
Donghae licks his bottom lip as he ponder a thought before reaching for Sungmin’s hand and pulling him away. “Let’s go there.”
“There?” Sungin asks.
The other man grins. “There.”
Rushing through the crowds that are rushing out to their cars, to the subways, to any form of shelter, Donghae and Sungmin quickly find their way back to that place-- the place they first spoke; the place they started.
A new beginning awaits them, not under sunshine and radiance, but within the trickles of rainfall.
(And Sungmin forgets about the love letters and diary entries until Donghae discovers them, unraveling them from dust and dreary, claiming them his own. “I’ll have to introduce you to Henry sometime, if I don’t kill him first.” Donhae had said. “I feel like I owe him one.”
The other man just cuddles closer against him on the couch, the blinds to the windows pulled far apart.
“I don’t want to leave.” Sungmin whispered. “This feels too much like a dream.”
Donghae smiles, hugging Sungmin close while nodding against the crown of Sungmin’s head.)
最美的不是下雨天
Rainy days are not what’s most beautiful,
是曾與你躲過雨的屋簷
It is the eaves that I have hidden under with you from the rain that are.
END
-
Read Nyx's version of Donghae/Sungmin [Rain] here.
-
[ [TC/009]: Authors Choice [Violins] ] ♦ [ [TC/010]: Henry/Xiumin [Whispers] ]
A/N: Song reference at the end: Secret (不能說的秘密) by Jay Chou (周杰倫). I tried to make this as fluffy and happy as I could (because everyone that reads my stuff knows I can't write fluff for a penny. And I have only ever written one moderately happy Haemin =/) I hope this wasn't bad! Thank you for reading!!
Pairing: Donghae/Sungmin
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, Fluff(?), Romance
Length: one-shot
Disclaimer: I don't own any of them, SME does. Plot is mine.
Summary: This is a city where rainfall seems to happen every day, yet, it doesn't bring upon sad memories and depressing occurrences, but happy beginnings and what's meant to be more than just a secret evening.
Warning: Un-beta'd. New writing style. Awkward fluff (because it's my first time writing full-fledge-fluff?)
Bustling city shops, rowdy crowds, heavy rainfall...
When he lifts his eyes from the ground, protected by his hands over his brows, it’s the same face that he sees there everyday. A smile graces him, leading him to bite down on his lip to force back the unintentional happiness.
The walk to the other side of the street is not far, but it feels oceans apart. Divided by the cars, the street lights, the crystallized raindrops, the voices and the commotion, he isn’t able to muster up the courage to take those several dozen steps forward.
Instead, he sneaks around the people quickly, shielding himself from the wet weather as best as he can, and enters the tunnel towards the subway station; head hung low, glasses sitting on his high nose.
Day after day, he accustoms to this routine until one day, when the rainfall decides to intervene.
-
Sungmin likes being outdoors.
When he finds himself confined inside a small coffee shop, his job consisting of taking orders and smiling flawlessly at their customers, he relishes in the sole fact that the windows are large and transparent, allowing him to look into the outside world.
In that outside world, there is a handsome face behind fogged glasses that he often catches staring at himself.
Though the geographical placement of their small town on the globe tells them that their annual amount of rainfall is enough to moisturize the countries living in the most horrible of droughts, Sungmin finds sunshine in that face that shies away from his eyes.
They are separated by a window and the rain.
Rain becomes what brings them together for a fateful meeting.
-
“Your coffee smells nice. Where’d you get it?”
Not that he doesn’t already know.
That wasn’t his ideal way to start a conversation with the other, but it would have to suffice in the cold and dreary weather. With drops of rain dripping from his hair, he hopes he doesn’t come off as odd or unnatural.
It seems to be working.
“Would you like some?” The stranger asks, holding out his cup.
Donghae holds his breath, clutching his hands together out of old habit. “Pardon?”
The other man laughs. “I’m just kidding.”
“Oh.” Donghae huffs and he sounds regretful, almost. “The rain is awfully big.”
Accompanied by a nod, the young man hums in agreement. “Always rains here.”
Donghae is a little disappointed at his tone-the type of tone one uses with a foreigner, with someone who may not belong. “I know,” Donghae snaps, in an attempt to defend his lost pride.
Maybe he shouldn’t allow himself to be so bitter. (What’s he so bitter about anyways?) So, he lowers his head and stares at the wet, water stained cement ground.
“I mean, I’m sorry…” Donghae trails off, not really knowing exactly what to say in order to compensate for his earlier reaction.
The man shrugs it off, slightly turning the other way.
Great, Donghae thinks, now he’s done it. “I really didn’t mean to offend you, I just-“
But then the stranger smiles and it’s that smile that Donghae loves to see so much every so often from a distance, under the rainy sky. Puffs of clouds form when the stranger laughs, his lips creating that beautiful arch on his clear skin.
Donghae blushes, secretly smiling to himself.
“I’m Sungmin,” the other offers.
There’s a thrumming in Donghae’s ears and the name kind of slips past him as he’s trying to comprehend that the stranger is waiting to know his name in return. “Sorry?”
Sungmin chuckles, tilting his head (and then his raven black hair falls over his eyes as they upturn into crescents, and it’s possibly the most breathtaking scene Donghae has ever witnessed), and leans back against the brick wall of the building. “I’m Sungmin. What’s your name?”
“Donghae.” He says, and he wonders if he sounds too eager to offer his own name.
Looking up towards the cloudy skies, Sungmin takes a deep breath, his smile ever present on his bright face. “Fitting.”
Rainy days have always been the most beautiful ones.
-
“On a scale of one to ten, I’d say he’s pushing a seven.”
His friend side eyes him, tapping away at his keyboard as he scoots his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. He tries pretending Donghae is invisible and that he’s incapable of hearing nonsense speech.
It, obviously, does not work.
A pillow hits him right dab in the face.
“Hey! Are you even listening to me, Henry?!” Donghae purses his lips.
Henry scuffles with his wrist cuffs and pushes his sleeves all the way up his arm until they are just over his elbows when he successfully rips them off. “Take your homosexual matters elsewhere, Donghae. I’ve got a webpage to program if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t.” Donghae replies bluntly.
This Henry is an unamused Henry.
“Even though he’s not the best looking guy out there, he’s just-there’s just something about him, Henry. You don’t understand!” Donghae begins. “Okay, maybe it has something to do with the way he smiles and the way the rain falls over his hair, and maybe even the fact that he’s beautiful even when we’re sitting under some torn down shelter in the middle of the rusty city, where it’s dark and musky and humid, but that’s not the point-“
Henry stops knowing what ”the point” of it all was when Donghae lost him at the term “guy”. Apparently, Mr. Not-The-Best-Looking-Guy-Out-There is as good looking to Donghae as finishing his web programming looks to Henry right now.
That is, in short, very good looking.
As Henry is still processing these thoughts amidst his furious typing, he can still subtly hear Donghae grumbling on and on about how he’s watched Mr. Hot-Stuff from a distance every day and everyday he just starts looking better and better.
Admittedly, Henry is slightly intimidated by his best friend right now.
“Do I need to hack his facebook and steal his phone number for you or something, Mr. Freaky-Stalker?” Henry growls. “Or should I just search him up and warn him of your freakish ways?”
“No,” Donghae gasps, wide-eyed and flustered. “You wouldn’t! I mean, I’m not-“
Henry grins in satisfaction. “Get out.”
Donghae juts out his bottom lip, crossing his arms over his chest and just glares at Henry. Hard. “You fail the best-friend-test.”
“You failed at being a stalker.” Henry counters matter of factly. “You barely even caught his name.”
The older of two parts his lips as though he wants to argue but he ends up opening and closing his mouth several times, void of words and empty with threats. “You suck,” is the best he can muster before he turns on his heels and stomps out of the dark dorm room.
As he’s leaving, Donghae can hear the keyboard being abused ten times louder and about a hundred times faster than before. He must have caught Henry at a bad time, he reasons. There is no other valid explanation to the way Henry is mistreating him.
In the security of his lone abode, Henry glares holes through the door after Donghae has left. Then he glances down sadly at the mess of electronic parts littered over the ground of where Donghae had rummaged past.
“Stupid Donghae,” he mutters with a sob, a single tear escaping his eyes when his gaze lands on what’s left of the one and only Topaz Tier Magma Armory he personally created with remnants of his forlorn soul.
He sighs, shaking his head in discouragement as he returns to his web programming.
No point in physical revenge, he thinks bitterly. That would only leave him with more casualties of his own work.
Then he remembers the Mr. Good-Looking-Stranger that Donghae had mentioned moments ago and a smirk finds its way to his face.
This is good, he nods charmingly. This is very good.
-
Sungmin can’t really pinpoint why, though he considers the option, he doesn’t pick up the habit of bringing a second cup of coffee to the secret rain shelter with him.
A certain someone will remark every time how nice his coffee smells, and Sungmin will always teasingly offer his cup to the other, and the other never does take it, but Sungmin doesn’t find it in any way irritating or offensive.
He just smiles and eases his hold on the cup, turning his face away with that thinned lip grin of his, cheeks red in amusement.
(Maybe he’s secretly hoping that the other man will take his cup, along with something else that beats that extra thud harder to impose on.)
-
Donghae dreams of a dimension collated on a scale of forestry green.
The world is bright- dreamy, as some may call it, but it doesn’t hurt the eyes and Donghae doesn’t quite find himself desiring to leave. The trees are breath taking-their leaves even more so-and he relaxes into this scenery so much that he kind of loses himself in it. Almost.
And then a smile appears, and it softens every last nerve in his body, leaving Donghae stranded on nothing but feelings.
This world doesn’t hurt, but his feelings kind of do when a loud buzzing noise invades his ears and pulls him back to reality.
He doesn’t remember what he dreamt about that morning after he wakes up but he awakes to the aroma of coffee and, instantaneously, a familiar smile surfaces in the back of his highlighted vision.
That’s when Donghae decides that, whatever the dream may have been, it must have been a decent one.
-
Sungmin receives something of a love letter in his email, signed anonymous, some days down the road and quirks his eyebrows at it until he thinks it would melt if a virtual letter could do so.
“Odd,” he utters, running his thumb over his bottom lip.
The senders email reads east.sea.1015@rocketmail.com.
Sungmin bites down on his lip, his eyes holding a judgmental edge to them. Who in the world actually uses rocketmail anymore? Huh. Must be Kyuhyun playing a joke on him from next door. He could get him back for that later.
Though, the small raindrop symbol that acts as a signature in the letter does catch Sungmin’s now rather undivided attention.
He saves the email to his inbox and prints out a draft of the text, folding it before tucking it somewhere deep inside his wallet. It would be a lie if he said he didn’t have a certain someone in mind when he first caught sight of the raindrop, but everyone has their doubts.
But maybe. Just maybe.
-
“I’m famous.” Donghae declares to Sungmin.
The other man tries to hide his laugh. “Oh really? How so?”
Donghae is slightly offended. “I’ve worked with political figures numerous times. I’m practically their personal designer.”
“You’re in design?” Sungmin asks.
“Documents creation,” Donghae corrects. “Close enough though, I suppose. Forms, headliners, brochures, business cards-you name it, I design it.”
Sungmin smiles. “That’s neat. You must have a lot of awesome and smart friends.”
“You wanted to say geeks.” Donghae accuses.
“Yes, I admit it. That was exactly what I meant to say.” Sungmin chides, nose scrunched up under the paled street lights. The pitter patter of the rain drains out his voice, but his expressions say it all. He looks gorgeous. “It sounds like a fun job, though.”
Donghae nods, thinning his lips. It’s cold, wet, and life has never seemed to have been so peaceful before. “What about you? Do you do anything aside from your job at the cafe?”
“I’ve got quite a few side jobs.” Sungmin shrugs. “Nothing interesting though.”
It’s a lie and Donghae is sure of it. There’s a certain spark in Sungmin’s eyes when he thinks of his life and his job (jobs?) but, for whatever reason, he is hesitant of sharing it with Donghae.
Someday, Donghae thinks. Someday he will break Sungmin out of his shell.
-
The emails continue coming every now and then. Sungmin continues being skeptical.
One after another, the emails start looking less and less like a love letter and more and more like something of diary entries. Sometimes, as he’s reading his inbox, he feels as though he’s intruding some strangers personal space- trespassing inappropriate boundaries- but all of them have something or another to do with him.
Sungmin decides to lay off of confronting Kyuhyun and considers a little more seriously about asking Donghae whether or not these emails are from him.
Of course, he conveniently forgets the next time he runs into Donghae under wet skies again. This time, they promise to meet up on a day they are both free and plan to maybe get a drink and some food before heading to bookstore to check out the latest bestsellers.
Donghae also swears he knows where the best churros are and Sungmin excitedly widens his eyes, nodding and clapping his hands together when Donghae offers to buy.
And when he returns home, dragging out his bag and finding his email filled folder, he scowls at himself and tosses them aside.
He then forgets to replace them inside his messengers pack and they are deserted in a corner of his living room, left to collect dust.
Not for long, though.
-
“I don’t like reading much.” Sungmin confesses. He points at the book sitting in front of himself and then gestures to his brain. “Too many words, too little attention span.”
Donghae laughs, hesitantly pushing the book he had picked from the shelf back into its rightful place. “I don’t like them much either.”
Liar, Sungmin thinks, but he keeps the thought to himself. “Hm.”
Judging by the others expression, Donghae knows he had made some sort of a unintelligent mistake. He looks around and spots another aisle, turning to grab Sungmin by the wrist and dragging him along without a second thought.
Sungmin stares at their linked arms. He smiles.
“I like picture books! I’ve always liked picture books,” Donghae grins toothily.
The other man chuckles, patting Donghae on the head. “Awww. Is our little Donghae excited to have found his children’s section?”
Donghae pouts.
“I’m kidding.” Sungmin laughs. “I like them too.” He glances at the books and randomly pulls one off of the nearest shelf. “See? Childhood favorite. Really.”
Though the frappuccino in Donghae’s hold sends small chills through his hands every now and then, he feels as though his palm is burning when he reaches out and holds Sungmin’s hand in his own. His smile is reckless, all teeth and no eyes, but something about this moment has frozen over and set his heart on fire.
In the good way, of course.
Sungmin moulds his hand into Donghae’s and fits their fingers perfectly into place as he replaces the book back where it belongs. “Let’s check out the sci-fi,” he says, “I’ve been pretty curious about this new book that was released based on a game I used to play…”
He’s never understood sci-fi (nor has he ever ventured into the realm of video games, because his parents have warned him of their various dangers-by goodness, the monsters!) but when they reach the section and he sees Sungmin’s eyes light up like foxes, he finds himself enjoying this just as much as he would have in the non-fiction aisle.
And, okay, he admits that this is kind of cheesy, but he really feels the need to do it anyways.
He stares.
Hard.
“What are you looking at?” Sungmin asks, eyebrows knitted together awkwardly while holding a book he picked from the shelf against his heart.
Donghae sighs. “I-”
A flash of lightning shakes them both from their ground and they quickly run to the nearest window, peeking out into the sky. The clouds have suddenly darkened, large droplets of rain falling from above.
Pitter patter, pitter patter.
Sungmin laughs, shaking his head softly. “It’s like we’re destined to always run into this weather. Maybe we’re not meant to be.”
“Hey.” Donghae frowns.
They stare outside for a while longer, enjoying the scenery before them slowly being engulfed in wafts of air and water, dampening, darkening, but never so calming.
Donghae licks his bottom lip as he ponder a thought before reaching for Sungmin’s hand and pulling him away. “Let’s go there.”
“There?” Sungin asks.
The other man grins. “There.”
Rushing through the crowds that are rushing out to their cars, to the subways, to any form of shelter, Donghae and Sungmin quickly find their way back to that place-- the place they first spoke; the place they started.
A new beginning awaits them, not under sunshine and radiance, but within the trickles of rainfall.
(And Sungmin forgets about the love letters and diary entries until Donghae discovers them, unraveling them from dust and dreary, claiming them his own. “I’ll have to introduce you to Henry sometime, if I don’t kill him first.” Donhae had said. “I feel like I owe him one.”
The other man just cuddles closer against him on the couch, the blinds to the windows pulled far apart.
“I don’t want to leave.” Sungmin whispered. “This feels too much like a dream.”
Donghae smiles, hugging Sungmin close while nodding against the crown of Sungmin’s head.)
最美的不是下雨天
Rainy days are not what’s most beautiful,
是曾與你躲過雨的屋簷
It is the eaves that I have hidden under with you from the rain that are.
END
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Read Nyx's version of Donghae/Sungmin [Rain] here.
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[ [TC/009]: Authors Choice [Violins] ] ♦ [ [TC/010]: Henry/Xiumin [Whispers] ]
A/N: Song reference at the end: Secret (不能說的秘密) by Jay Chou (周杰倫). I tried to make this as fluffy and happy as I could (because everyone that reads my stuff knows I can't write fluff for a penny. And I have only ever written one moderately happy Haemin =/) I hope this wasn't bad! Thank you for reading!!