003 wither
Wither
or The Things I Set Fire To; From Which You Gather Ashes
EunHae | R | AU, Angst, Fluff*
Summary: They’re the happiest people in the world. But.
A/N: *I’m not quite sure what this is or what the hell happened in the end but it might be a little bit of everything.
--
Donghae is in love. He smiles to himself and steals glances and hears everything Hyukjae says. They aren’t close, he realizes as he searches for the least uncomfortable position on the bus, the one which brings the least pain. Hyukjae laughs along with Subin but they stop talking after a while as it grows quiet.
Everyone else is asleep.
“You two can get married tomorrow,” a voice from the back of the school bus hisses. “Could you at least let us sleep?” It is Siwon, the greatest creature to have ever set foot on earth. He’s also an asshole. But nobody ever tells him that.
Hyukjae hisses a response, which Donghae doesn’t hear so clearly.
Donghae proceeds on pretending to sleep, and Hyukjae proceeds on whispering with Subin. It takes more than three minutes before Donghae loses track of the time, and falls into a premature sleep as the bus takes them closer to their destination.
--
Hyukjae wishes to have worn a better suit because he is definitely underdressed. The music hall is filled with people and Subin is pretty in her dark blue dress beside him, her hand clasping his well-toned biceps. They are ushered to their seats and they wait for the performers to take the stage.
He goes to the bathroom because four guys playing guitar is definitely boring. And it is killing him that Subin is wide-eyed at the guitarists - three of whom are old, by the way, while he doesn’t have any musical prowess other than his incessant dancing.
Subin frowns when he leaves and doesn’t return until the encore.
“You’re an asshole,” Subin declares as they enter Hyukjae’s car. “I told you I didn’t want to go alone.”
Hyukjae tries coaxing her, albeit a little distressed by her constant bratty attitude. “Honey, I went in there and tried, okay. But it really wasn’t my cup of tea, I’m sorry.”
“Well, you could’ve tried harder; so, I’m sorry too.”
And Subin walks out of the car, hails and rides a taxi before Hyukjae can digest the situation. They have been dating for two years since high school graduation and his life has been molded into Subin’s definite plans. He feels a little disoriented now that she doesn’t answer the phone. And when she does, she calmly says, “Hyukjae, go home. This is me breaking up with you, okay? Just. Go home.”
--
Hyukjae feels as if this is the lamest reason to break up ever. So he doesn’t go home. He makes it his goal to get drunk beyond known human limitations.
He takes his position and orders two bottles of soju to start with. However, his weak - to absolutely zippo, tolerance of alcohol got the better of him, so he ordered and ate food, instead. And he deems himself lame right there, but who cares?
From his table, he sees one customer drowning himself in soju and wolfing down plate after plate of food. He seems familiar to Hyukjae, but he can’t see clearly because of the gochujang stains on the man’s face.
“Excuse me,” the man speaks. “Would you like to grace my table with your sorry ass so we can drink together?”
Hyukjae should be mad, angry at the incredibly conceited person but he doesn’t. Instead, he does as the man suggests. “I’m Hyukjae.”
“Lee Donghae.”
--
Two years pass since that fateful night of breakups and alcohol. Hyukjae continues to work as a sales executive and Donghae continues being a bum at their now shared apartment. From day one, they have grown closer to each other. Hyukjae finds Donghae’s cluelessness amusing and Donghae finds Hyukjae’s charm his cue out of the closet.
Not that he was really in so far.
He tells Hyukjae one day when the other was sharing groggy tales of girls’ undergarments and the lack thereof, “I really have no interest with girls.”
“What?” Hyukjae stops at Subin’s hot pink bra straps. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve never liked girls, Hyukjae,” Donghae says without hesitation.
Hyukjae is frozen on the top bunk. “So… You like guys?”
Donghae shrugs. But he realizes soon enough that Hyukjae can’t see him. “Well, I… I think I’ve liked one or two guys before.”
“Uh,” Hyukjae starts and stops. He clears his throat and tries to find something - anything, to say. “It really doesn’t matter to me because we’re friends, but… This is rather awkward because we, like, we’re really close.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Donghae says with a crisp voice. “I can move out if it makes you uncomfortable and all.”
“No, don’t.”
That night, Hyukjae pretends to snore while Donghae thinks this is the first time he heard a snore. In two years.
--
Kyuhyun, Hyukjae’s colleague, is not bothered by Donghae at all. Hyukjae shakes his head as he puts down two cups of dark coffee and a cup of mocha on the table. It is the first time Kyuhyun meets Donghae and he already has him on the palm of his hand as he played that Super Mario medley on his guitar.
Kyuhyun claps, for heaven’s sake.
And Hyukjae takes this as his cue to leave. One moron is obviously enough.
--
Donghae leaves every once in a while, carrying his guitar, claiming to have a ‘gig’ and coming home super late with food in one hand and a wad of money in the other. Hyukjae refuses to believe one gig is equal to six months of his hard work, but Donghae claims it is so.
“I think you’re robbing banks or something,” Hyukjae eats Donghae’s obviously expensive food and accuses him. “I mean, look at these. These are Master Chef-esque.”
“Shut up and eat,” Donghae coaxes. “Just shut up. And. Eat.”
So Hyukjae eats, and laughs because free food has that effect. Make people happy. And Hyukjae thinks this is a really nice moment right here. Donghae really is a good person. And he’s lucky to have a friend like him. But it might just be the free food talking. Because free food has that effect, as well. Gain your trust.
“You should probably see me perform,” Donghae says as a blob of ketchup slide off his expensive burger, falling to his chin, which he wipes with the back of his hand but successfully makes more mess than what there originally was, so Hyukjae throws a towel at him.
“I can’t believe they pay a bum like you to play,” Hyukjae scoffs.
“I play, like, magnificently.” Donghae reassures him. But Hyukjae doesn’t buy it. Especially with the sight of lettuce on Donghae’s teeth.
Donghae throws tickets of his solo concerto at him.
--
However, it’s not enough for Hyukjae. Nothing ever is.
It’s not enough that Donghae’s perfect little family is enthralled to meet Donghae’s best friend. It’s not enough that his mom packs them home-cooked meals and really awesome kimchi. It’s not enough that his Dad has the same taste in music, that he gives them money to buy dance albums so Hyukjae can practice more. It’s not enough that his brother, Donghwa, is so exponentially smart that his brain is enough for maybe three thousand more Donghaes.
It’s also not enough that he really is exceptional at the guitar.
“This is Aquerelle. It’s a very, very complicated piece with three parts,” Donghae says on stage. All girls in the audience are already drooling over him. “This is one of my favorite pieces to play, because it has so many layers. Aquerelle means watercolors, I think.”
It’s not enough that Hyukjae has heard this piece more than a thousand times before, the one Donghae practices. I like this, he remembers telling Donghae this one morning when he woke up to a peaceful melody.
And it’s also not enough that Donghae adds his favorite contemporary song to his repertoire, and performs it for the first time today in his encore.
“This is for my very good friend. I love this song, too, but it’s not completely within my safe bubble, but yes. This is also for every one of you who has been like a friend to me,” Donghae says and the audience faints figuratively.
It’s not enough that he completely transformed a dance song to a ballad using his fingers and the six strings of his classical guitar.
It’s not enough that everybody at the audience is singing along to Donghae’s encore song - which, not incidentally, is Hyukjae’s favorite song to dance to. It is not enough that Donghae sings along with them during the last few lines.
For Hyukjae, nothing ever is enough.
“The song,” Donghae says backstage, when everyone else has left. “It’s for you.”
“Well,” Hyukjae tries alleviating the awkward because Let Me Love You is not really a song of subtlety. “Thanks. That’s very homosexual of you.”
“Seriously,” Donghae doesn’t really laugh alongside him like he usually does when he drops gay jokes. “I think… No, I’m very sure you’ve made me, like, fall in love.”
Nothing is ever enough for Hyukjae, even Donghae’s love. Which he doesn’t really like. Or appreciate. Or want.
So Donghae walks out.
And moves out.
And Hyukjae convinces himself that his heart didn’t really skip some few beats when Donghae confessed to him.
--
Still, Donghae is a man. And like any other man in the world, he tends to find solutions. He doesn’t like to talk about things as they happen to him. Well, he will - if it is Hyukjae.
See, here is when he realizes his life is just underscored, seared-to-your-skin sad.
The only person, he thinks, that he wants to talk to is the same person he wants to talk about.
Which, of course, doesn’t really make sense.
Which, all the more makes it extremely sad.
I, Donghae concludes, am so sad I could just. Die.
--
Eventually, Donghae moves on, because it’s easy abroad without Hyukjae’s smile hovering around him. It haunts him sometimes, especially when he’s alone in a bar as he wait for his new-found friends in Vancouver.
He learns how to speak English, because it’s rather easy when you have no choice. Besides, it’s easier to sleep around when he learns how to pick up lonely boys (who are much like him, by the way) in bars and concert halls.
But it doesn’t last long. He finally settles into his half-Korean friend Henry. They become very good friends, like how it was with Hyukjae before. However, Henry is better - more accepting, more open to things, more gay.
And Donghae likes it with him because they’re much like each other.
They go back to Korea for spring. Donghae plans to send all his things to Canada while Henry sight-sees.
Henry kisses him goodbye in front of the airport because Henry has a hotel reservation while Donghae is going straight to his parents’ house. Seoul is busier than ever and Donghae hails a taxi after Henry’s left for the hotel.
--
Needless to say, Donghae is surprised by Hyukjae’s presence in his parents’ house. Donghwa, his older brother, was playing Chess with him like it was the normal thing to do.
“Nobody mentioned you being here all the time, you know.” Donghae tells Hyukjae while they were drinking at the balcony. “You could’ve told me you were still visiting my parents.”
Hyukjae smiles, “I could’ve told you if you hadn’t changed all your contact details.”
“You could’ve asked Donghwa.”
“And what,” Hyukjae asks. “Let them know you’re not talking to me anymore?”
Donghae sighs. “Fine. But this confuses me to no end. Don’t you have better things to do than hang around here with my parents?”
“Well, sometimes Donghwa calls me up to have dinner with his wife here, like today.” Hyukjae pours more soju into Donghae’s unfinished glass. “Your Dad told me you were in a relationship with a Canadian boy?”
“He told you that, huh?” Donghae asks, wondering how his father could’ve told Hyukjae about that fact. “Well, he’s here in Korea with me, but they don’t want to see him, so.”
“They don’t?”
“Yeah, they’re disgusted, maybe. I believe they really want my leaving to happen as soon as humanly possible,” Donghae says. “Apparently, my Mom did all the packing in advance. All I have to do is ship them back to Vancouver where they belong.”
Hyukjae shrugs. “When are you going back to Canada?”
“The sooner, the better.”
--
Hyukjae’s grip on Donghae’s wrists tightens as he reaches his orgasm. Donghae’s jeans on his ankles restrict him from sitting up properly. There is a stabbing pain on his back, and he wonders if it’s a utensil. His hands finally giving out, Hyukjae gently lies down beside Donghae on his counter, his back resting on the cold marble top.
There is silence as Donghae’s knees finally give in. He falls to the clean floor and his brain begins thumping against his skull again, pounding. His breathing is labored and he tries cleaning himself up, trying to pull his pants back on and failing miserably. He groans in frustration.
Watching Donghae’s struggle to get clothed, Hyukjae tries to help by reaching out to him and buttoning his shirt back on.
Donghae realizes what Hyukjae is doing after about two successful buttons and stops him, “I’ll do it.” He abandons his pants and takes charge of his shirt first. His trembling fingers refuse to cooperate so he just gives up and Hyukjae sees this, but stays still for a moment or so.
When Donghae wretchedly deserts his quest to be clothed again, his eyes turn to the ground and Hyukjae takes it as a cue to take charge. Deeply saddened, Hyukjae finishes putting his clothes back on and turns his attention to his own disheveled state, as well.
More silence ensues as the two catch their breath. Hyukjae looks over at Donghae every once in a while, ecstatic because the sensations hasn’t worn off but distressed because Donghae doesn’t seem happy at all. He wonders how much of a mistake this was. He wonders how much Donghae hates it.
“Hey,” Hyukjae tries breaking the silence. “Are you okay?”
Donghae doesn’t know what to say, because his not being okay has escalated to so many different levels. He’s not okay because Hyukjae basically coerced him into this. Also, because he didn’t really need too much coercion.
“I’m sorry,” he finishes and hurries to his bathroom to clean up.
--
Donghae stays the night beside Hyukjae, though, but they do nothing. At all. Hyukjae even forgets to pretend to sleep. Donghae doesn’t even think.
It isn’t a question of sexuality for Hyukjae.
So Hyukjae releases a breath so deep Donghae looks at him for a few seconds, bravely turning his head to his left.
“Can I…” Hyukjae starts, because it’s the most difficult thing to do. “Can I see you again?”
It’s also easier to leave Donghae to answer - so that he decides, which is technically more difficult than starting a fire or asking a stupid question.
--
Henry hugs Donghae at the hotel lobby and they settle for coffee and toasts. Henry waits for a kiss, which doesn’t come, of course, but he doesn’t seem to realize anything wrong so he lets it go.
A Korean food escapade is what was promised to the Korean cuisine virgin Henry before they left Canada. Two days, tops, and they head back to Vancouver and move in together and maybe try to get married. There is a certain thrill in two guys getting married, Henry reasons. Besides, aren’t we like an old married couple already? This is just making it all legal and stuff.
But he doesn’t get the food escapade. Well, he does, but it’s merely lunch at some Korean restaurant which employs a French chef who is excellent at Korean food.
Henry scrunches his nose; he evidently wants to throw up because he finds most of the food repulsive, some tolerable - like the kimbap.
Donghae seems aloof that day. The only conversation he manages to sustain is this shit about having to extend his stay in Korea, which Henry seems to dislike, primarily because they have plans back in Vancouver. And all of their friends are waiting for them and getting ready for the big trip to Vegas.
“It’s okay. We can stay for one more day, I guess,” Henry says. Above all else, Henry is one hell of a considerate man.
“Actually,” Donghae says. “I was thinking maybe a week or two. You can go ahead without me.”
Henry’s hand leaves Donghae’s lap, surprised. “But, Honey, the trip is in a week.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You’re telling me to go without you?” Henry asks, obviously bewildered by that thought. “Donghae, we’re having that trip for us. For our moving in together. You can’t seriously be asking me to go ahead without you. That’s just stupid.”
Donghae shakes his head, “I know, I’m sorry.”
“We just have to reschedule, then,” Henry picks up his phone and tries opening his e-mail account, ready to type a long e-mail of apology and explanation.
“No, don’t.” Donghae stops him. “Just. Please. Go without me.”
Henry kind of laughs, “Are you dumping me?”
“What? No.”
“You sound like you’re dumping me, Donghae. You really, really do. And it doesn’t sound funny at all because I feel this stupid weight on my finger, you know.” His voice is calm. “The one wearing the ring you asked me to wear when you asked me to marry you and I said yes.”
Donghae holds his hand and Henry lets him, “I’m not dumping you, okay? I love you. It’s just. I just have to take care of some shit in here.”
“Explain.”
He takes a deep breath, “I’d talk my parents into accepting me. Us. Because it matters so much to me that they accept me and you, okay? Do you understand that? Please? Have your bachelor’s party in Vegas without me, Love.”
--
Hyukjae’s eyes flicker to Donghae’s presence outside his door. He knows he’s getting married. He knows everything. He can’t quite believe his eyes - Donghae stayed behind.
It is funny how he never wants to decide yet Donghae has managed to get him to this position - to open or not to open the door.
I’m here, Hyukjae, he can almost hear Donghae say. You asked me a question; here’s my answer. I’m here.
He walks to the door and flexes his hand before placing it over the knob.
The floor is yours now.
or The Things I Set Fire To; From Which You Gather Ashes
EunHae | R | AU, Angst, Fluff*
Summary: They’re the happiest people in the world. But.
A/N: *I’m not quite sure what this is or what the hell happened in the end but it might be a little bit of everything.
--
Donghae is in love. He smiles to himself and steals glances and hears everything Hyukjae says. They aren’t close, he realizes as he searches for the least uncomfortable position on the bus, the one which brings the least pain. Hyukjae laughs along with Subin but they stop talking after a while as it grows quiet.
Everyone else is asleep.
“You two can get married tomorrow,” a voice from the back of the school bus hisses. “Could you at least let us sleep?” It is Siwon, the greatest creature to have ever set foot on earth. He’s also an asshole. But nobody ever tells him that.
Hyukjae hisses a response, which Donghae doesn’t hear so clearly.
Donghae proceeds on pretending to sleep, and Hyukjae proceeds on whispering with Subin. It takes more than three minutes before Donghae loses track of the time, and falls into a premature sleep as the bus takes them closer to their destination.
--
Hyukjae wishes to have worn a better suit because he is definitely underdressed. The music hall is filled with people and Subin is pretty in her dark blue dress beside him, her hand clasping his well-toned biceps. They are ushered to their seats and they wait for the performers to take the stage.
He goes to the bathroom because four guys playing guitar is definitely boring. And it is killing him that Subin is wide-eyed at the guitarists - three of whom are old, by the way, while he doesn’t have any musical prowess other than his incessant dancing.
Subin frowns when he leaves and doesn’t return until the encore.
“You’re an asshole,” Subin declares as they enter Hyukjae’s car. “I told you I didn’t want to go alone.”
Hyukjae tries coaxing her, albeit a little distressed by her constant bratty attitude. “Honey, I went in there and tried, okay. But it really wasn’t my cup of tea, I’m sorry.”
“Well, you could’ve tried harder; so, I’m sorry too.”
And Subin walks out of the car, hails and rides a taxi before Hyukjae can digest the situation. They have been dating for two years since high school graduation and his life has been molded into Subin’s definite plans. He feels a little disoriented now that she doesn’t answer the phone. And when she does, she calmly says, “Hyukjae, go home. This is me breaking up with you, okay? Just. Go home.”
--
Hyukjae feels as if this is the lamest reason to break up ever. So he doesn’t go home. He makes it his goal to get drunk beyond known human limitations.
He takes his position and orders two bottles of soju to start with. However, his weak - to absolutely zippo, tolerance of alcohol got the better of him, so he ordered and ate food, instead. And he deems himself lame right there, but who cares?
From his table, he sees one customer drowning himself in soju and wolfing down plate after plate of food. He seems familiar to Hyukjae, but he can’t see clearly because of the gochujang stains on the man’s face.
“Excuse me,” the man speaks. “Would you like to grace my table with your sorry ass so we can drink together?”
Hyukjae should be mad, angry at the incredibly conceited person but he doesn’t. Instead, he does as the man suggests. “I’m Hyukjae.”
“Lee Donghae.”
--
Two years pass since that fateful night of breakups and alcohol. Hyukjae continues to work as a sales executive and Donghae continues being a bum at their now shared apartment. From day one, they have grown closer to each other. Hyukjae finds Donghae’s cluelessness amusing and Donghae finds Hyukjae’s charm his cue out of the closet.
Not that he was really in so far.
He tells Hyukjae one day when the other was sharing groggy tales of girls’ undergarments and the lack thereof, “I really have no interest with girls.”
“What?” Hyukjae stops at Subin’s hot pink bra straps. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve never liked girls, Hyukjae,” Donghae says without hesitation.
Hyukjae is frozen on the top bunk. “So… You like guys?”
Donghae shrugs. But he realizes soon enough that Hyukjae can’t see him. “Well, I… I think I’ve liked one or two guys before.”
“Uh,” Hyukjae starts and stops. He clears his throat and tries to find something - anything, to say. “It really doesn’t matter to me because we’re friends, but… This is rather awkward because we, like, we’re really close.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Donghae says with a crisp voice. “I can move out if it makes you uncomfortable and all.”
“No, don’t.”
That night, Hyukjae pretends to snore while Donghae thinks this is the first time he heard a snore. In two years.
--
Kyuhyun, Hyukjae’s colleague, is not bothered by Donghae at all. Hyukjae shakes his head as he puts down two cups of dark coffee and a cup of mocha on the table. It is the first time Kyuhyun meets Donghae and he already has him on the palm of his hand as he played that Super Mario medley on his guitar.
Kyuhyun claps, for heaven’s sake.
And Hyukjae takes this as his cue to leave. One moron is obviously enough.
--
Donghae leaves every once in a while, carrying his guitar, claiming to have a ‘gig’ and coming home super late with food in one hand and a wad of money in the other. Hyukjae refuses to believe one gig is equal to six months of his hard work, but Donghae claims it is so.
“I think you’re robbing banks or something,” Hyukjae eats Donghae’s obviously expensive food and accuses him. “I mean, look at these. These are Master Chef-esque.”
“Shut up and eat,” Donghae coaxes. “Just shut up. And. Eat.”
So Hyukjae eats, and laughs because free food has that effect. Make people happy. And Hyukjae thinks this is a really nice moment right here. Donghae really is a good person. And he’s lucky to have a friend like him. But it might just be the free food talking. Because free food has that effect, as well. Gain your trust.
“You should probably see me perform,” Donghae says as a blob of ketchup slide off his expensive burger, falling to his chin, which he wipes with the back of his hand but successfully makes more mess than what there originally was, so Hyukjae throws a towel at him.
“I can’t believe they pay a bum like you to play,” Hyukjae scoffs.
“I play, like, magnificently.” Donghae reassures him. But Hyukjae doesn’t buy it. Especially with the sight of lettuce on Donghae’s teeth.
Donghae throws tickets of his solo concerto at him.
--
However, it’s not enough for Hyukjae. Nothing ever is.
It’s not enough that Donghae’s perfect little family is enthralled to meet Donghae’s best friend. It’s not enough that his mom packs them home-cooked meals and really awesome kimchi. It’s not enough that his Dad has the same taste in music, that he gives them money to buy dance albums so Hyukjae can practice more. It’s not enough that his brother, Donghwa, is so exponentially smart that his brain is enough for maybe three thousand more Donghaes.
It’s also not enough that he really is exceptional at the guitar.
“This is Aquerelle. It’s a very, very complicated piece with three parts,” Donghae says on stage. All girls in the audience are already drooling over him. “This is one of my favorite pieces to play, because it has so many layers. Aquerelle means watercolors, I think.”
It’s not enough that Hyukjae has heard this piece more than a thousand times before, the one Donghae practices. I like this, he remembers telling Donghae this one morning when he woke up to a peaceful melody.
And it’s also not enough that Donghae adds his favorite contemporary song to his repertoire, and performs it for the first time today in his encore.
“This is for my very good friend. I love this song, too, but it’s not completely within my safe bubble, but yes. This is also for every one of you who has been like a friend to me,” Donghae says and the audience faints figuratively.
It’s not enough that he completely transformed a dance song to a ballad using his fingers and the six strings of his classical guitar.
It’s not enough that everybody at the audience is singing along to Donghae’s encore song - which, not incidentally, is Hyukjae’s favorite song to dance to. It is not enough that Donghae sings along with them during the last few lines.
For Hyukjae, nothing ever is enough.
“The song,” Donghae says backstage, when everyone else has left. “It’s for you.”
“Well,” Hyukjae tries alleviating the awkward because Let Me Love You is not really a song of subtlety. “Thanks. That’s very homosexual of you.”
“Seriously,” Donghae doesn’t really laugh alongside him like he usually does when he drops gay jokes. “I think… No, I’m very sure you’ve made me, like, fall in love.”
Nothing is ever enough for Hyukjae, even Donghae’s love. Which he doesn’t really like. Or appreciate. Or want.
So Donghae walks out.
And moves out.
And Hyukjae convinces himself that his heart didn’t really skip some few beats when Donghae confessed to him.
--
Still, Donghae is a man. And like any other man in the world, he tends to find solutions. He doesn’t like to talk about things as they happen to him. Well, he will - if it is Hyukjae.
See, here is when he realizes his life is just underscored, seared-to-your-skin sad.
The only person, he thinks, that he wants to talk to is the same person he wants to talk about.
Which, of course, doesn’t really make sense.
Which, all the more makes it extremely sad.
I, Donghae concludes, am so sad I could just. Die.
--
Eventually, Donghae moves on, because it’s easy abroad without Hyukjae’s smile hovering around him. It haunts him sometimes, especially when he’s alone in a bar as he wait for his new-found friends in Vancouver.
He learns how to speak English, because it’s rather easy when you have no choice. Besides, it’s easier to sleep around when he learns how to pick up lonely boys (who are much like him, by the way) in bars and concert halls.
But it doesn’t last long. He finally settles into his half-Korean friend Henry. They become very good friends, like how it was with Hyukjae before. However, Henry is better - more accepting, more open to things, more gay.
And Donghae likes it with him because they’re much like each other.
They go back to Korea for spring. Donghae plans to send all his things to Canada while Henry sight-sees.
Henry kisses him goodbye in front of the airport because Henry has a hotel reservation while Donghae is going straight to his parents’ house. Seoul is busier than ever and Donghae hails a taxi after Henry’s left for the hotel.
--
Needless to say, Donghae is surprised by Hyukjae’s presence in his parents’ house. Donghwa, his older brother, was playing Chess with him like it was the normal thing to do.
“Nobody mentioned you being here all the time, you know.” Donghae tells Hyukjae while they were drinking at the balcony. “You could’ve told me you were still visiting my parents.”
Hyukjae smiles, “I could’ve told you if you hadn’t changed all your contact details.”
“You could’ve asked Donghwa.”
“And what,” Hyukjae asks. “Let them know you’re not talking to me anymore?”
Donghae sighs. “Fine. But this confuses me to no end. Don’t you have better things to do than hang around here with my parents?”
“Well, sometimes Donghwa calls me up to have dinner with his wife here, like today.” Hyukjae pours more soju into Donghae’s unfinished glass. “Your Dad told me you were in a relationship with a Canadian boy?”
“He told you that, huh?” Donghae asks, wondering how his father could’ve told Hyukjae about that fact. “Well, he’s here in Korea with me, but they don’t want to see him, so.”
“They don’t?”
“Yeah, they’re disgusted, maybe. I believe they really want my leaving to happen as soon as humanly possible,” Donghae says. “Apparently, my Mom did all the packing in advance. All I have to do is ship them back to Vancouver where they belong.”
Hyukjae shrugs. “When are you going back to Canada?”
“The sooner, the better.”
--
Hyukjae’s grip on Donghae’s wrists tightens as he reaches his orgasm. Donghae’s jeans on his ankles restrict him from sitting up properly. There is a stabbing pain on his back, and he wonders if it’s a utensil. His hands finally giving out, Hyukjae gently lies down beside Donghae on his counter, his back resting on the cold marble top.
There is silence as Donghae’s knees finally give in. He falls to the clean floor and his brain begins thumping against his skull again, pounding. His breathing is labored and he tries cleaning himself up, trying to pull his pants back on and failing miserably. He groans in frustration.
Watching Donghae’s struggle to get clothed, Hyukjae tries to help by reaching out to him and buttoning his shirt back on.
Donghae realizes what Hyukjae is doing after about two successful buttons and stops him, “I’ll do it.” He abandons his pants and takes charge of his shirt first. His trembling fingers refuse to cooperate so he just gives up and Hyukjae sees this, but stays still for a moment or so.
When Donghae wretchedly deserts his quest to be clothed again, his eyes turn to the ground and Hyukjae takes it as a cue to take charge. Deeply saddened, Hyukjae finishes putting his clothes back on and turns his attention to his own disheveled state, as well.
More silence ensues as the two catch their breath. Hyukjae looks over at Donghae every once in a while, ecstatic because the sensations hasn’t worn off but distressed because Donghae doesn’t seem happy at all. He wonders how much of a mistake this was. He wonders how much Donghae hates it.
“Hey,” Hyukjae tries breaking the silence. “Are you okay?”
Donghae doesn’t know what to say, because his not being okay has escalated to so many different levels. He’s not okay because Hyukjae basically coerced him into this. Also, because he didn’t really need too much coercion.
“I’m sorry,” he finishes and hurries to his bathroom to clean up.
--
Donghae stays the night beside Hyukjae, though, but they do nothing. At all. Hyukjae even forgets to pretend to sleep. Donghae doesn’t even think.
It isn’t a question of sexuality for Hyukjae.
So Hyukjae releases a breath so deep Donghae looks at him for a few seconds, bravely turning his head to his left.
“Can I…” Hyukjae starts, because it’s the most difficult thing to do. “Can I see you again?”
It’s also easier to leave Donghae to answer - so that he decides, which is technically more difficult than starting a fire or asking a stupid question.
--
Henry hugs Donghae at the hotel lobby and they settle for coffee and toasts. Henry waits for a kiss, which doesn’t come, of course, but he doesn’t seem to realize anything wrong so he lets it go.
A Korean food escapade is what was promised to the Korean cuisine virgin Henry before they left Canada. Two days, tops, and they head back to Vancouver and move in together and maybe try to get married. There is a certain thrill in two guys getting married, Henry reasons. Besides, aren’t we like an old married couple already? This is just making it all legal and stuff.
But he doesn’t get the food escapade. Well, he does, but it’s merely lunch at some Korean restaurant which employs a French chef who is excellent at Korean food.
Henry scrunches his nose; he evidently wants to throw up because he finds most of the food repulsive, some tolerable - like the kimbap.
Donghae seems aloof that day. The only conversation he manages to sustain is this shit about having to extend his stay in Korea, which Henry seems to dislike, primarily because they have plans back in Vancouver. And all of their friends are waiting for them and getting ready for the big trip to Vegas.
“It’s okay. We can stay for one more day, I guess,” Henry says. Above all else, Henry is one hell of a considerate man.
“Actually,” Donghae says. “I was thinking maybe a week or two. You can go ahead without me.”
Henry’s hand leaves Donghae’s lap, surprised. “But, Honey, the trip is in a week.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You’re telling me to go without you?” Henry asks, obviously bewildered by that thought. “Donghae, we’re having that trip for us. For our moving in together. You can’t seriously be asking me to go ahead without you. That’s just stupid.”
Donghae shakes his head, “I know, I’m sorry.”
“We just have to reschedule, then,” Henry picks up his phone and tries opening his e-mail account, ready to type a long e-mail of apology and explanation.
“No, don’t.” Donghae stops him. “Just. Please. Go without me.”
Henry kind of laughs, “Are you dumping me?”
“What? No.”
“You sound like you’re dumping me, Donghae. You really, really do. And it doesn’t sound funny at all because I feel this stupid weight on my finger, you know.” His voice is calm. “The one wearing the ring you asked me to wear when you asked me to marry you and I said yes.”
Donghae holds his hand and Henry lets him, “I’m not dumping you, okay? I love you. It’s just. I just have to take care of some shit in here.”
“Explain.”
He takes a deep breath, “I’d talk my parents into accepting me. Us. Because it matters so much to me that they accept me and you, okay? Do you understand that? Please? Have your bachelor’s party in Vegas without me, Love.”
--
Hyukjae’s eyes flicker to Donghae’s presence outside his door. He knows he’s getting married. He knows everything. He can’t quite believe his eyes - Donghae stayed behind.
It is funny how he never wants to decide yet Donghae has managed to get him to this position - to open or not to open the door.
I’m here, Hyukjae, he can almost hear Donghae say. You asked me a question; here’s my answer. I’m here.
He walks to the door and flexes his hand before placing it over the knob.
The floor is yours now.