009 Breathing
Breathing
PG-13 | EunHae | AU; Friendship; Angst
Summary: In which Donghae doesn’t demand and Hyukjae does the choosing.
A/N: It might or might not be about the great zombie apocalypse.
--
It was almost inevitable.
Hyukjae was sitting down on Donghae’s bed as the former told him what happened in gym class. How bloody it was because Youngwoon is a great big bully and Donghee is too stubborn to stop his pointless arguing. Eventually, the teacher stepped in to stop the two from making larger bruises and eventually mimicking the French revolution; because, let’s face it, who goes gaga over not participating in stupid dodge ball games?
Donghae looked at him half-expectantly.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Hyukjae asked while backing away from his friend slightly. He thought for a moment and said, “I didn’t see her at the cafeteria.”
The sparkle in Donghae’s eyes died down a little, but not entirely. He sighed, clearly disappointed.
Hyukjae, who was apparently fed up with discussions about her, retorted with a sharp statement about the school being so big, anyway, saying she could have been anywhere during lunch. “Besides,” he continued, “It’s not like I was actually looking for her during my spare time.”
Donghae smiled and said, “I guess the timing is just off.” Then, he resumed turning on his television, plugging in the console, as well. “Anyway, let’s just kill zombies!”
His friend smiled at him, obviously liking the idea of killing zombies, and they both slumped down on the cushions on the floor, making both of them comfortable. Donghae’s mother entered with a plate of ginger snaps and two take-away cups of bubble milk tea. She inquired about the homework Hyukjae had to do but he dismissed her as politely as he could, assuring her that History wasn’t so difficult; that the Roman empire fell for reasons he already knew; and that he already knew why Alexander wasn’t so great, after all.
Things lose significance around Donghae, Hyukjae concluded. And he had known this for a long time. Somehow, history didn’t matter as much as it did a few hours ago during the pop quiz.
What mattered the most at the moment was this, killing virtual zombies so that their virtual selves survive the virtual zombie apocalypse.
--
Hyukjae blithely strolled to his apartment after two full hours of keeping the zombies away from Donghae, because Donghae sucked big time in killing virtual zombies.
“Can I copy your essay on ancient trade?” Kyuhyun asked as he opened the fridge, grabbing two cans of coffee and a slice of leftover pizza, “Come on, dude, I have tons to do. I promise I’ll edit here and there.”
“We have an essay on ancient trade?”
“Yeah, dude, the one with the silk trade and camels and diseases spreading.” Kyuhyun replied, making his way back to his inexplicably, constantly humid cave. “So give.”
Hyukjae shrugged as he reclined on the battered couch, too tired for conversations. “I don’t have it. So go away.”
Kyuhyun audibly sneered at him, mumbling semi-coherent insults which attacked on Hyukjae’s face and terrible case of self-involvedness.
A wave of silence and peace followed Kyuhyun’s absence and Hyukjae fell asleep on the couch, unable to make a concrete decision on whether to work on his paper or not.
--
“What do you mean you’re not going to college?” Sungmin flailed around Hyukjae’s line of vision, appalled before by Hyukjae’s indecision and now by his horrible life decisions. “You’ve been accepted, Hyukjae. And you clearly told me you saved enough for at least three years. What’s up with you?”
Hyukjae shrugged - a habit he’s taken a liking to, which Sungmin generally despised. “I figured I can work at the garage full-time. Boss needs a mechanic anyway.”
Sungmin was beyond pissed, “Boss needs you to stop working for him, Hyukjae. Look, some grade school kid would want to work at the garage for college money, like you did.”
“Yeah, but I like working there.”
“Shut up and enroll yourself right after we graduate, Hyukjae. I’m taking you.”
Hyukjae only laughed, because he was so sure last night that he wouldn’t go to some far away city just so he can pay the school to give him homework and make him write more papers. He wouldn’t go, because it’s far too exhausting to go and actually live life as a normal human being.
He wouldn’t go, because Donghae would be too far and he would prefer his afternoons filled with zombie annihilation rather than pursuing some degree which wouldn’t be of use to him, in any practical sense.
--
Donghae was driven by his mother to Hyukjae’s apartment; and he brought with him a bag of chips and his mother’s quesadillas. Hyukjae opened the door and helped him in.
The words were few but the zombies killed were plenty; Donghae was doing a much better job than usual, and it made Hyukjae think of some lame joke to throw but the atmosphere wasn’t as good as he wanted it to be. Hyukjae felt as if Donghae was on the verge of something, and he couldn’t tell if this something was good or bad.
After thirty more minutes, Donghae put down his controller, turned to him and said, “Would you bring me home really intelligent books when you’re in college?”
So it hit Hyukjae, Donghae must have known about his poor life decisions, somehow, and Donghae knew that it was the idea of leaving him that Hyukjae couldn’t bear; and the boy wouldn’t have any of it.
“When you’re studying highly philosophical ideals with your highly intelligent professors who speak very, very long words with highly profound meaning, will you call me on the phone and tell me all about it?”
There were tears in Donghae’s eyes. Somehow, Hyukjae had been reduced to the one who’d leave - the one who had to leave; and Donghae to the one who wouldn’t let him give up his dreams or his future just because he couldn’t have his.
“Hyukjae, will you? Will you go to college and tell me all about it?”
Hyukjae coaxed him, collecting him to his arms, and making hasty decisions on going to college and finishing as soon as he can so he can come back to Donghae as soon as humanly possible. “I’ll call you, alright.”
--
College is overrated, Hyukjae concluded. There wasn’t a great big epiphany of any sort when he had finally stepped onto the campus grounds and finished locating his dormitory. His classes were plenty, but his free time was even more plenty. And it bothered him, because he didn’t want free time - he just wanted to finish things. And quickly.
He didn’t know how to use a degree on Literature. He didn’t know what it is for, or what to do with it. But, if people said he had to do it, then he will.
His room was large and he shared it with the same Kyuhyun who managed to get into the same college, but taking an engineering course.
On top of his desk, Hyukjae put the two piles of text books required for the semester, and two other piles of paperbacks Donghae lent him to read because apparently, smart kids read those kinds of books.
He thought of Donghae, and of how things are so different and difficult. And he thought of how it could’ve been easier if Donghae was a little more like him. But he quickly realized he liked Donghae the way he was; and his train of thought escaped him because he liked Donghae? It was as much of a question as it was a statement. And he didn’t know how to deal with it.
As Friday approached, his new friends had introduced him to a couple of girls who were in the same department and he was invited over for a party, which he accepted, despite his promise of going back to Donghae that weekend.
--
Sungmin worried over Hyukjae not returning for the whole semester. They had made plans over the phone to come and visit their high school with some of their friends but Hyukjae was missing in action.
“Hey, Donghae,” he greeted Donghae who was on his bed, quite tired from yesterday’s activities.
The smile was bright, and Donghae was more attractive than ever. Sungmin ruffled his hair and presented his gift - a shirt he bought from his university, bearing their colors. Donghae reached out for it as a little kid would, thanking Sungmin repeatedly.
For the whole semester, Sungmin had been the one visiting Donghae and giving him gifts and telling him stories about how college is awesome but high school is a whole lot easier and how he can’t wait to learn more stuff. Donghae listened eagerly, asked questions and laughed at jokes.
He had stopped asking about Hyukjae after three months of waiting and inquiring and theorizing about his schedules and his adjustments and his dreams and his new friends and his lessons, and his wordy professors and his books. He had stopped because a package came one day with all the books he lent him, with a note signed by Kyuyhun, Hyukjae’s roommate, telling him not to worry, Hyukjae’s enjoying college, but Hyukjae might not be able to come back any time soon, as he is really, really enjoying college.
So Donghae stopped asking, because Hyukjae was enjoying college so much that he couldn’t even write a note to thank him for the books, or give him a call, or reply to his email, or just look at his tweets, or something. Anything.
It had been Sungmin who assured him that Hyukjae’s just having an adjustment phase, that he’d come back for sure.
--
“There’s going to be a downpour,” she said as Hyukjae kissed her temple.
He looked outside her glass window, and saw the dark clouds hovering above the greater campus area. “Yeah,” he said absent-mindedly.
“We should sleep in,” she whispered and giggled, because Hyukjae was using his fingers to tickle her sides. “Stop it, please. Stop!”
“Get up,” he said, getting off the bed and offering her a hand. “We’d be late for class.”
And by the time they finished preparing, the coffee was ready and the toasts popped out of the toaster almost at the same time. She readied their cups and Hyukjae fed her a bite and they scampered their way out of the apartment.
--
“How is it like, to be sick?” She asked Donghae, who was on his bed, disrupted from his reading, when Hyukjae and his girlfriend arrived at his doorstep one day.
Hyukjae was speaking with Donghae’s mother in the kitchen, where they were preparing snacks to bring upstairs. They were taking a long time, and Donghae understood, because it had been more than a year since they last saw each other.
“Hey,” she said with a smile, “Donghae?”
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat because he didn’t want to be rude. Because she’s rather pretty and nice, and she’s being friendly, to be honest. But it was quite an insensitive question, coming from a seemingly sensible person who’s dating the most sensible human being Donghae knew. “It’s normal, I guess.”
She smiled, “Well, you seem like a nice kid, anyway.”
“Thanks.” Donghae was quite intrigued as to how Hyukjae had ended up with such a girl - with more beauty than brain, and wondered what he told her about him, if he told her anything about him at all.
Donghae was going to ask, but Hyukjae entered the room at that moment, and the afternoon passed rather slowly. Hyukjae’s girlfriend continuously asked Donghae random questions about his life and his sickness and the decorations in his room, and he answered her politely, glancing at Hyukjae who was just looking at her in awe - or in something else Donghae couldn’t quite place his finger on.
--
To be sick was a daunting experience, in Donghae’s opinion. He’d been woken up a million times from his sleep, with a violent coughing fit. The throbbing in his brain was also a constant, the pain had consumed him a dozen of times before, but he had always walked away, stronger in spirit, but weaker in body. There were instances when he wanted to just end it, because he was getting tired of hurling out food from his stomach, of wiping away sweat when he’s in a seizure, of the a hundred million operating tables, of the nauseating trips to the hospital, of the aseptic hospital smell, of the optimistic psychiatrist, of the stern surgeon, of generally everything that relates to his being sick.
“Hey.” It was Hyukjae who came back the next day, now without his girlfriend.
“Hey,” Donghae greeted him back.
Hyukjae sat on the sofa beside him, glancing at the television. “What’s this you’re watching?”
“Sherlock.”
Hyukjae nodded. “You’ve finally gotten over Master Chef?”
Donghae couldn’t help but smile, “Yeah I have the episodes saved.”
There was a silence between them afterwards; Hyukjae was intently watching Moriarty kill himself and Donghae was watching Hyukjae watch Moriarty die. Suddenly, Donghae was sad. Hyukjae was here again but he had changed so much over the past year that they weren’t seeing each other that he found it difficult to see the old Hyukjae. Or, actually, he was sad to see that it was the same Hyukjae yet he refused to see him for over a year and it baffled him. It angered him, even, that he was back without a word about why he was away. And if he was going to give him shit about college being utterly difficult, he might want to punch him and take him down at Sungmin’s feet if he could.
“So where were you?”
“I drove her to the station.”
“No, I mean, where were you?”
Hyukjae looked at Donghae; and Donghae was the only one who watched Holmes fall.
--
Donghae had been crying all night. It was pain that stopped their conversation last night, physical pain, that is. It was so bad, apparently, that he had to be sent to the emergency room, and the doctors advised him to be admitted for further observation.
Hyukjae had been there, and he was a little guilty. They had been arguing when Donghae yelled for his mother because he felt pain in his chest, and he was helplessly hovering above him as Donghae reclined to the couch.
“He’s okay. He just needs to rest,” Donghae’s mother assured him, squeezing his hand, for good measure.
--
In the morning, there was a light drizzle outside Donghae’s window and Hyukjae was sleeping on the bench that lined the wall. His mother was on her way to the doctor’s office to consult some things and Donghae was just watching Hyukjae as he languidly started to wake up.
Donghae took his eyes from Hyukjae, turned to the phone he was holding in his hands, where he was browsing through a site which he completely forgot.
Hyukjae walked over to the bed after a quick trip to the bathroom.
“Don’t you have to go?”
Hyukjae’s sighed. “Donghae, I don’t want to upset you, okay?”
Donghae laughed, and mockingly said, “It’s quite funny hearing that from you.” Donghae put his phone down, gritting his teeth together, and making an attempt to hide under his covers.
Seeing that Donghae was having difficulties because of his tubes and the incline of the bed, Hyukjae helped him, taking away a pillow under his head, carefully lifting his hand out of the way, and tucking him in. He pulled a chair beside the bed closer, so he could sit right next to him. He looked at Donghae, whose back was turned to him. He sighed, “I’m just… I’m really sorry. Just please calm down and I won’t bother you again.”
There was sincerity in Hyukjae’s voice which Donghae didn’t fail to notice, and he felt bad. And confused. Because he was mad at him for being away for so long but he was happy that he’s back and he’s here but he’s changed so much, even bringing a girlfriend, yet he’s still the same Hyukjae and everything was just so confusing. But he tried to breathe. He didn’t want to be carried away by emotions again. His lungs were weak enough on their own; he didn’t want to cause more difficulties.
“I’m clearly stressing you out. Just stop being mad and I swear I’ll go away.”
“Don’t.” Donghae said in a small voice, half-muffled by the pillow he was half-burying his face on.
“What?”
“I said don’t go, you idiot.”
--
Sungmin’s voice was so loud that Donghae could hear him upstairs. He had been yelling at Hyukjae about his poor life decisions, yet again, because apparently, he hadn’t shown his face to him for more than a year, as well.
Donghae was reading The Final Problem, and he couldn’t focus because Sungmin was still yelling. After a while, his mother knocked on his door and said, “He’s still at it.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
She laughed, “It’s nothing, honey. It’s nice that Sungmin can scold him for both of us.”
“Mom,” he said. “I really missed Hyukjae.”
“Yeah, but he really hurt you,” she replied. “And I don’t like it when you’re hurt.” Donghae released a breath he had been holding. “Are you sure you’re going to let him try to return things to the way they were before?”
“That’s not possible, Mom.”
She nodded, “I’m glad you know that.”
--
“Donghae, Hyukjae has something to say,” Sungmin pushed Hyukjae to where Donghae was sitting. Hyukjae hesitated; it was clear that Sungmin was making him do something he didn’t really want to do. “Come on, Hyukjae. We’re all ears.”
Donghae’s mother sat on the couch beside the window, shaking her head and laughing softly.
“I…” Hyukjae couldn’t continue.
“Come on…” Sungmin urged.
“I…”
Donghae cleared his throat, “Mom, could you serve that cheesecake Sungmin really likes?” Sungmin stopped at his tracks, looking at Donghae, who continued, “I have something to tell Hyukjae.”
“Sure, honey.”
--
“So?” Donghae asked when the door was closed and Hyukjae was still staring blankly at him. “We can just both pretend that you said what Sungmin told you to say. He won’t stop bugging you, anyway.”
“Donghae, I’m really sorry for being away for too long.”
“I told you, it’s fine.”
Hyukjae stood straighter, “I know I was an asshole for not saying a word about how scared I was to go back and about how college was easier to deal with than you and my stupid feelings. I know it was cowardly. It was stupid to leave you when you’ve always been my best friend and I was selfish. I’m really sorry. And for returning and pretending like I was gone for a week. And for making you upset and sick. I’m really sorry.”
They were silent for a while, Donghae was staring at him.
“So I’ll go back to college and try not to disappear again from your life, if that’s what you want.”
“I don’t know what I want, Hyukjae.”
Hyukjae smiled sadly, “I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying you’re sorry.” Donghae complained. “I’ll figure out what I want, Hyukjae. You can go live your life how you want it.”
“Donghae…”
“Hyukjae, I can’t keep you from your life, you know. You’re not responsible for me; I don’t want you to feel obliged to be always there for me.”
“But I want to be.”
Donghae took a deep breath, as if about to plunge in deep waters.
Hyukjae hesitated, but he ended up sitting on the bed beside Donghae. “I want to protect you from zombies for the rest of my life if I can. If you want me to.”
“I won’t be here for the rest of your life, though.”
--
Sungmin sat beside Hyukjae on the bench on Donghae’s front porch. Donghae asked for his mother without finishing the conversation with Hyukjae and Sungmin took the latter from the room, because he looked like he was going to pass out.
“Are you okay now?”
Hyukjae shook his head. And Sungmin worried over his ability to speak, or make eye contact, or breathe.
“What happened in there?”
Hyukjae shook his head again.
“Fine.” Sungmin gave up and said, “You’re making me crazy - the two of you. If you have feelings for him, deal with it like an adult, Lee Hyukjae. You can’t keep running away. And if he doesn’t want you, you know what, he has all the reasons to kick your ass out of this house but he’s not doing that. Evidently he wants you to stay. Evidently he wants you to stay for as long as you can but he’s not going to ask that of you, you stupid son of a gun. He’s too scared to ask anything of you because of what you did. Stay if you want to. But don’t fucking leave him again.”
“And if he leaves me?”
“Well, don’t blame me. Blame God. Or the universe. Or cancer. Or Hades. Or whoever’s in charge of taking people’s lives.”
Hyukjae sighed.
“You have no right to be scared about him leaving you, okay? No right. At all.”
--
Donghae’s mother tucked him in, monitoring his breathing for a little while before leaving the room. Hyukjae was at the kitchen waiting for her. For days, he stayed at their guest room - which was originally Donghae’s but the apparatus wouldn’t fit so he had to move.
“Is he okay?”
She smiled at Hyukjae, “He is now.” Hyukjae poured her some tea and gave it to her. “You’re going back to college in a week, right?”
Hyukjae nodded. “But I wanted to be transferred to the nearer campus.” She looked at him and the look on her eyes kind of scared him; so he lied, “I swear it’s not because of Donghae. I just wanted to be like twenty minutes away from the… garage since… I’ll be working part-time again?”
“We have a small house, Hyukjae. I heard what you and Sungmin were talking about.”
“Oh,” he said, dumbfounded. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s scary,” she said. “But it’s okay. I’ll keep loving Donghae and I’ll keep him alive for as long as I can and as long as his body can handle it.”
“I’m really sorry.”
She smiled at him, “It’s really scary. But it’s okay.” She had emptied her small cup by then. “If he leaves me, I’ll be sad but I’ll be okay. But I don’t care for him thinking about the time he’ll leave me, Hyukjae. I care for him thinking about how happy we can be while we’re together.”
--
Hyukjae held an umbrella over his head, walking to class while trying to keep his shoes dry. A few guys from his class passed by him, running to the nearest building. Nobody had foreseen the rain, apparently. And only a few people were armed with umbrellas.
He saw her waiting for the rain to stop at the shade of Arts and Literature Building, glancing at her watch, probably late for class.
“You’re heading for Philosophy, right?”
She looked at Hyukjae and sighed, hesitating, before she finally gave in, sharing the umbrella with him. “Thanks,” she mumbled. This was the first time they saw each other after Hyukjae broke up with her two weeks ago.
“I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t push it, Hyukjae.” She walked swift, and Hyukaje hurried to share the umbrella with her properly. “How is your friend, by the way?”
“He’s okay.”
Her lips were pursed together in straight line, “Have you told him?”
Hyukjae glanced at her, and said, “No.”
“What are you waiting for, then?” She said and saw him shrug. “Well, you better hurry. It’s not like you have forever.”
“I know,” he replied; noticing how her steps were slower and smaller.
“Thanks, Hyukjae,” she said.
He realized how they were already in the Philosophy Building and people were hurrying around them, running to all direction, some braving their way through the rain and others swiftly escaping from it. He was going to say something but he stopped, because she kissed his cheek and disappeared abruptly.
And he realized how much she must have liked him. Then, he realized how he liked her a lot, too.
--
Donghae was having trouble breathing that day and Sungmin didn’t show up as planned for a paper he was writing. His mother had helped him ease his breathing, and had already called his doctor so that an ambulance was on the way to fetch him.
Hyukjae had come home to an empty house since Donghae had to stay for a couple of hours in the hospital. The ice cream cake he had bought was starting to melt inside its box, and he stared at it blankly, instead of reading To Kill a Mockingbird like he planned to.
He had fallen asleep on the bench.
After about an hour, Donghae arrived with his mother and he walked to the bench to wake him up. He poked his face with a finger and picked up the book that had fallen to the floor.
“Good morning,” Donghae said as Hyukjae blinked to consciousness. It’s already half past eight in the evening. Mom’s preparing dinner. I hope you’re hungry.”
“God,” Hyukjae stood up and his back ached because he slept wrongly. “How long have you been here?”
They started their way towards the door, and Donghae replied, “Just a while ago.”
The ice cream cake was saved by a few more hours on the freezer, and Hyukjae brought it upstairs to Donghae’s room only to find him setting up the game console. Hyukjae tentatively held his designated controller, a little anxious since it’s been a while since he played.
“I’m out of practice. I wonder how many levels we’ll actually finish,” Donghae mumbled, taking his old spot beside Hyukjae on the floor.
“I haven’t killed zombies in a while,” Hyukjae laughed. “This might be fun.”
Hence, zombies were killed and virtual Hyukjaes and Donghaes sometimes died along with them. It takes a few more games before they realized their hands hurt and that it’s almost past Donghae’s bed time. His mother knocked a few times and Hyukjae hurriedly turned everything off while Donghae quickly hid behind his covers.
“Guys, you can play the whole day tomorrow,” she said, helping Hyukjae clean up the empty plates on the floor. “Donghae, go brush your teeth first.”
Donghae followed her in a heartbeat, excusing himself to go to his bathroom.
“I’m sorry,” Hyukjae whispered when Donghae had shut the door. “I shouldn’t have made him stay up this late.”
She tousled Hyukjae’s hair and smiled, “Go brush your teeth as well and sleep. You have lessons to learn, I take it?”
“Yup.”
“You two can study together instead of these childish games, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
--
“I hate Ayn Rand,” Donghae said with an almost violent conviction. “I don’t understand this book at all.”
“You’re not even half-way yet!” Hyukjae scolded him.
“I’m not finishing that crap,” he said. “I’m watching Sherlock over and over again until they air the new season. I don’t care.”
“Wow,” Hyukjae exclaimed. “This is worse than your passion for Master Chef!”
Donghae turned the television on, and Hyukjae continued reading To Kill a Mocking Bird, consoling himself by the feel of Donghae’s hand playing with his hair absently.
There was something tentative about everything. Donghae had been more careful in dealing with Hyukjae. Somehow, Hyukjae felt as if he’s keeping something to himself all the time, as if he’s not laying out everything on the table like he used to. And he didn’t hold it against Donghae, because he had all the right to be mad at him. Hyukjae, on the other hand, had been more careful, too. He didn’t make promises, like he did before. He thought about things before he says them.
And he felt as if they were dodging some questions and issues all the time. And they were. They didn’t talk about the legalization of same-sex marriage in France because that would entail emotions and probably personal opinions that they’re not ready to deal with yet. Donghae didn’t bring up Hyukjae’s girlfriend; he didn’t even know that they’ve broken up until Sungmin told him about it in passing a few visits ago.
They had been very careful, yet Hyukjae felt as if Donghae’s hand on the strands of his hair was a beginning. And even if they were living a life of uncertainties, he was sure that he didn’t want this to end.
“Hey, Donghae?” Hyukjae called his attention. He smiled wider when the hand on this hair didn’t stop.
--
A/N: I apologize to Ayn Rand’s fans/readers. I don’t actually hate her. I don’t know her/her works enough to hate her. :3 On the other hand, this story ends right there, just when Hyukjae was on the verge of something… big, because if it didn’t, I wouldn’t stop writing it. Yay. :D
PG-13 | EunHae | AU; Friendship; Angst
Summary: In which Donghae doesn’t demand and Hyukjae does the choosing.
A/N: It might or might not be about the great zombie apocalypse.
--
It was almost inevitable.
Hyukjae was sitting down on Donghae’s bed as the former told him what happened in gym class. How bloody it was because Youngwoon is a great big bully and Donghee is too stubborn to stop his pointless arguing. Eventually, the teacher stepped in to stop the two from making larger bruises and eventually mimicking the French revolution; because, let’s face it, who goes gaga over not participating in stupid dodge ball games?
Donghae looked at him half-expectantly.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Hyukjae asked while backing away from his friend slightly. He thought for a moment and said, “I didn’t see her at the cafeteria.”
The sparkle in Donghae’s eyes died down a little, but not entirely. He sighed, clearly disappointed.
Hyukjae, who was apparently fed up with discussions about her, retorted with a sharp statement about the school being so big, anyway, saying she could have been anywhere during lunch. “Besides,” he continued, “It’s not like I was actually looking for her during my spare time.”
Donghae smiled and said, “I guess the timing is just off.” Then, he resumed turning on his television, plugging in the console, as well. “Anyway, let’s just kill zombies!”
His friend smiled at him, obviously liking the idea of killing zombies, and they both slumped down on the cushions on the floor, making both of them comfortable. Donghae’s mother entered with a plate of ginger snaps and two take-away cups of bubble milk tea. She inquired about the homework Hyukjae had to do but he dismissed her as politely as he could, assuring her that History wasn’t so difficult; that the Roman empire fell for reasons he already knew; and that he already knew why Alexander wasn’t so great, after all.
Things lose significance around Donghae, Hyukjae concluded. And he had known this for a long time. Somehow, history didn’t matter as much as it did a few hours ago during the pop quiz.
What mattered the most at the moment was this, killing virtual zombies so that their virtual selves survive the virtual zombie apocalypse.
--
Hyukjae blithely strolled to his apartment after two full hours of keeping the zombies away from Donghae, because Donghae sucked big time in killing virtual zombies.
“Can I copy your essay on ancient trade?” Kyuhyun asked as he opened the fridge, grabbing two cans of coffee and a slice of leftover pizza, “Come on, dude, I have tons to do. I promise I’ll edit here and there.”
“We have an essay on ancient trade?”
“Yeah, dude, the one with the silk trade and camels and diseases spreading.” Kyuhyun replied, making his way back to his inexplicably, constantly humid cave. “So give.”
Hyukjae shrugged as he reclined on the battered couch, too tired for conversations. “I don’t have it. So go away.”
Kyuhyun audibly sneered at him, mumbling semi-coherent insults which attacked on Hyukjae’s face and terrible case of self-involvedness.
A wave of silence and peace followed Kyuhyun’s absence and Hyukjae fell asleep on the couch, unable to make a concrete decision on whether to work on his paper or not.
--
“What do you mean you’re not going to college?” Sungmin flailed around Hyukjae’s line of vision, appalled before by Hyukjae’s indecision and now by his horrible life decisions. “You’ve been accepted, Hyukjae. And you clearly told me you saved enough for at least three years. What’s up with you?”
Hyukjae shrugged - a habit he’s taken a liking to, which Sungmin generally despised. “I figured I can work at the garage full-time. Boss needs a mechanic anyway.”
Sungmin was beyond pissed, “Boss needs you to stop working for him, Hyukjae. Look, some grade school kid would want to work at the garage for college money, like you did.”
“Yeah, but I like working there.”
“Shut up and enroll yourself right after we graduate, Hyukjae. I’m taking you.”
Hyukjae only laughed, because he was so sure last night that he wouldn’t go to some far away city just so he can pay the school to give him homework and make him write more papers. He wouldn’t go, because it’s far too exhausting to go and actually live life as a normal human being.
He wouldn’t go, because Donghae would be too far and he would prefer his afternoons filled with zombie annihilation rather than pursuing some degree which wouldn’t be of use to him, in any practical sense.
--
Donghae was driven by his mother to Hyukjae’s apartment; and he brought with him a bag of chips and his mother’s quesadillas. Hyukjae opened the door and helped him in.
The words were few but the zombies killed were plenty; Donghae was doing a much better job than usual, and it made Hyukjae think of some lame joke to throw but the atmosphere wasn’t as good as he wanted it to be. Hyukjae felt as if Donghae was on the verge of something, and he couldn’t tell if this something was good or bad.
After thirty more minutes, Donghae put down his controller, turned to him and said, “Would you bring me home really intelligent books when you’re in college?”
So it hit Hyukjae, Donghae must have known about his poor life decisions, somehow, and Donghae knew that it was the idea of leaving him that Hyukjae couldn’t bear; and the boy wouldn’t have any of it.
“When you’re studying highly philosophical ideals with your highly intelligent professors who speak very, very long words with highly profound meaning, will you call me on the phone and tell me all about it?”
There were tears in Donghae’s eyes. Somehow, Hyukjae had been reduced to the one who’d leave - the one who had to leave; and Donghae to the one who wouldn’t let him give up his dreams or his future just because he couldn’t have his.
“Hyukjae, will you? Will you go to college and tell me all about it?”
Hyukjae coaxed him, collecting him to his arms, and making hasty decisions on going to college and finishing as soon as he can so he can come back to Donghae as soon as humanly possible. “I’ll call you, alright.”
--
College is overrated, Hyukjae concluded. There wasn’t a great big epiphany of any sort when he had finally stepped onto the campus grounds and finished locating his dormitory. His classes were plenty, but his free time was even more plenty. And it bothered him, because he didn’t want free time - he just wanted to finish things. And quickly.
He didn’t know how to use a degree on Literature. He didn’t know what it is for, or what to do with it. But, if people said he had to do it, then he will.
His room was large and he shared it with the same Kyuhyun who managed to get into the same college, but taking an engineering course.
On top of his desk, Hyukjae put the two piles of text books required for the semester, and two other piles of paperbacks Donghae lent him to read because apparently, smart kids read those kinds of books.
He thought of Donghae, and of how things are so different and difficult. And he thought of how it could’ve been easier if Donghae was a little more like him. But he quickly realized he liked Donghae the way he was; and his train of thought escaped him because he liked Donghae? It was as much of a question as it was a statement. And he didn’t know how to deal with it.
As Friday approached, his new friends had introduced him to a couple of girls who were in the same department and he was invited over for a party, which he accepted, despite his promise of going back to Donghae that weekend.
--
Sungmin worried over Hyukjae not returning for the whole semester. They had made plans over the phone to come and visit their high school with some of their friends but Hyukjae was missing in action.
“Hey, Donghae,” he greeted Donghae who was on his bed, quite tired from yesterday’s activities.
The smile was bright, and Donghae was more attractive than ever. Sungmin ruffled his hair and presented his gift - a shirt he bought from his university, bearing their colors. Donghae reached out for it as a little kid would, thanking Sungmin repeatedly.
For the whole semester, Sungmin had been the one visiting Donghae and giving him gifts and telling him stories about how college is awesome but high school is a whole lot easier and how he can’t wait to learn more stuff. Donghae listened eagerly, asked questions and laughed at jokes.
He had stopped asking about Hyukjae after three months of waiting and inquiring and theorizing about his schedules and his adjustments and his dreams and his new friends and his lessons, and his wordy professors and his books. He had stopped because a package came one day with all the books he lent him, with a note signed by Kyuyhun, Hyukjae’s roommate, telling him not to worry, Hyukjae’s enjoying college, but Hyukjae might not be able to come back any time soon, as he is really, really enjoying college.
So Donghae stopped asking, because Hyukjae was enjoying college so much that he couldn’t even write a note to thank him for the books, or give him a call, or reply to his email, or just look at his tweets, or something. Anything.
It had been Sungmin who assured him that Hyukjae’s just having an adjustment phase, that he’d come back for sure.
--
“There’s going to be a downpour,” she said as Hyukjae kissed her temple.
He looked outside her glass window, and saw the dark clouds hovering above the greater campus area. “Yeah,” he said absent-mindedly.
“We should sleep in,” she whispered and giggled, because Hyukjae was using his fingers to tickle her sides. “Stop it, please. Stop!”
“Get up,” he said, getting off the bed and offering her a hand. “We’d be late for class.”
And by the time they finished preparing, the coffee was ready and the toasts popped out of the toaster almost at the same time. She readied their cups and Hyukjae fed her a bite and they scampered their way out of the apartment.
--
“How is it like, to be sick?” She asked Donghae, who was on his bed, disrupted from his reading, when Hyukjae and his girlfriend arrived at his doorstep one day.
Hyukjae was speaking with Donghae’s mother in the kitchen, where they were preparing snacks to bring upstairs. They were taking a long time, and Donghae understood, because it had been more than a year since they last saw each other.
“Hey,” she said with a smile, “Donghae?”
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat because he didn’t want to be rude. Because she’s rather pretty and nice, and she’s being friendly, to be honest. But it was quite an insensitive question, coming from a seemingly sensible person who’s dating the most sensible human being Donghae knew. “It’s normal, I guess.”
She smiled, “Well, you seem like a nice kid, anyway.”
“Thanks.” Donghae was quite intrigued as to how Hyukjae had ended up with such a girl - with more beauty than brain, and wondered what he told her about him, if he told her anything about him at all.
Donghae was going to ask, but Hyukjae entered the room at that moment, and the afternoon passed rather slowly. Hyukjae’s girlfriend continuously asked Donghae random questions about his life and his sickness and the decorations in his room, and he answered her politely, glancing at Hyukjae who was just looking at her in awe - or in something else Donghae couldn’t quite place his finger on.
--
To be sick was a daunting experience, in Donghae’s opinion. He’d been woken up a million times from his sleep, with a violent coughing fit. The throbbing in his brain was also a constant, the pain had consumed him a dozen of times before, but he had always walked away, stronger in spirit, but weaker in body. There were instances when he wanted to just end it, because he was getting tired of hurling out food from his stomach, of wiping away sweat when he’s in a seizure, of the a hundred million operating tables, of the nauseating trips to the hospital, of the aseptic hospital smell, of the optimistic psychiatrist, of the stern surgeon, of generally everything that relates to his being sick.
“Hey.” It was Hyukjae who came back the next day, now without his girlfriend.
“Hey,” Donghae greeted him back.
Hyukjae sat on the sofa beside him, glancing at the television. “What’s this you’re watching?”
“Sherlock.”
Hyukjae nodded. “You’ve finally gotten over Master Chef?”
Donghae couldn’t help but smile, “Yeah I have the episodes saved.”
There was a silence between them afterwards; Hyukjae was intently watching Moriarty kill himself and Donghae was watching Hyukjae watch Moriarty die. Suddenly, Donghae was sad. Hyukjae was here again but he had changed so much over the past year that they weren’t seeing each other that he found it difficult to see the old Hyukjae. Or, actually, he was sad to see that it was the same Hyukjae yet he refused to see him for over a year and it baffled him. It angered him, even, that he was back without a word about why he was away. And if he was going to give him shit about college being utterly difficult, he might want to punch him and take him down at Sungmin’s feet if he could.
“So where were you?”
“I drove her to the station.”
“No, I mean, where were you?”
Hyukjae looked at Donghae; and Donghae was the only one who watched Holmes fall.
--
Donghae had been crying all night. It was pain that stopped their conversation last night, physical pain, that is. It was so bad, apparently, that he had to be sent to the emergency room, and the doctors advised him to be admitted for further observation.
Hyukjae had been there, and he was a little guilty. They had been arguing when Donghae yelled for his mother because he felt pain in his chest, and he was helplessly hovering above him as Donghae reclined to the couch.
“He’s okay. He just needs to rest,” Donghae’s mother assured him, squeezing his hand, for good measure.
--
In the morning, there was a light drizzle outside Donghae’s window and Hyukjae was sleeping on the bench that lined the wall. His mother was on her way to the doctor’s office to consult some things and Donghae was just watching Hyukjae as he languidly started to wake up.
Donghae took his eyes from Hyukjae, turned to the phone he was holding in his hands, where he was browsing through a site which he completely forgot.
Hyukjae walked over to the bed after a quick trip to the bathroom.
“Don’t you have to go?”
Hyukjae’s sighed. “Donghae, I don’t want to upset you, okay?”
Donghae laughed, and mockingly said, “It’s quite funny hearing that from you.” Donghae put his phone down, gritting his teeth together, and making an attempt to hide under his covers.
Seeing that Donghae was having difficulties because of his tubes and the incline of the bed, Hyukjae helped him, taking away a pillow under his head, carefully lifting his hand out of the way, and tucking him in. He pulled a chair beside the bed closer, so he could sit right next to him. He looked at Donghae, whose back was turned to him. He sighed, “I’m just… I’m really sorry. Just please calm down and I won’t bother you again.”
There was sincerity in Hyukjae’s voice which Donghae didn’t fail to notice, and he felt bad. And confused. Because he was mad at him for being away for so long but he was happy that he’s back and he’s here but he’s changed so much, even bringing a girlfriend, yet he’s still the same Hyukjae and everything was just so confusing. But he tried to breathe. He didn’t want to be carried away by emotions again. His lungs were weak enough on their own; he didn’t want to cause more difficulties.
“I’m clearly stressing you out. Just stop being mad and I swear I’ll go away.”
“Don’t.” Donghae said in a small voice, half-muffled by the pillow he was half-burying his face on.
“What?”
“I said don’t go, you idiot.”
--
Sungmin’s voice was so loud that Donghae could hear him upstairs. He had been yelling at Hyukjae about his poor life decisions, yet again, because apparently, he hadn’t shown his face to him for more than a year, as well.
Donghae was reading The Final Problem, and he couldn’t focus because Sungmin was still yelling. After a while, his mother knocked on his door and said, “He’s still at it.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
She laughed, “It’s nothing, honey. It’s nice that Sungmin can scold him for both of us.”
“Mom,” he said. “I really missed Hyukjae.”
“Yeah, but he really hurt you,” she replied. “And I don’t like it when you’re hurt.” Donghae released a breath he had been holding. “Are you sure you’re going to let him try to return things to the way they were before?”
“That’s not possible, Mom.”
She nodded, “I’m glad you know that.”
--
“Donghae, Hyukjae has something to say,” Sungmin pushed Hyukjae to where Donghae was sitting. Hyukjae hesitated; it was clear that Sungmin was making him do something he didn’t really want to do. “Come on, Hyukjae. We’re all ears.”
Donghae’s mother sat on the couch beside the window, shaking her head and laughing softly.
“I…” Hyukjae couldn’t continue.
“Come on…” Sungmin urged.
“I…”
Donghae cleared his throat, “Mom, could you serve that cheesecake Sungmin really likes?” Sungmin stopped at his tracks, looking at Donghae, who continued, “I have something to tell Hyukjae.”
“Sure, honey.”
--
“So?” Donghae asked when the door was closed and Hyukjae was still staring blankly at him. “We can just both pretend that you said what Sungmin told you to say. He won’t stop bugging you, anyway.”
“Donghae, I’m really sorry for being away for too long.”
“I told you, it’s fine.”
Hyukjae stood straighter, “I know I was an asshole for not saying a word about how scared I was to go back and about how college was easier to deal with than you and my stupid feelings. I know it was cowardly. It was stupid to leave you when you’ve always been my best friend and I was selfish. I’m really sorry. And for returning and pretending like I was gone for a week. And for making you upset and sick. I’m really sorry.”
They were silent for a while, Donghae was staring at him.
“So I’ll go back to college and try not to disappear again from your life, if that’s what you want.”
“I don’t know what I want, Hyukjae.”
Hyukjae smiled sadly, “I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying you’re sorry.” Donghae complained. “I’ll figure out what I want, Hyukjae. You can go live your life how you want it.”
“Donghae…”
“Hyukjae, I can’t keep you from your life, you know. You’re not responsible for me; I don’t want you to feel obliged to be always there for me.”
“But I want to be.”
Donghae took a deep breath, as if about to plunge in deep waters.
Hyukjae hesitated, but he ended up sitting on the bed beside Donghae. “I want to protect you from zombies for the rest of my life if I can. If you want me to.”
“I won’t be here for the rest of your life, though.”
--
Sungmin sat beside Hyukjae on the bench on Donghae’s front porch. Donghae asked for his mother without finishing the conversation with Hyukjae and Sungmin took the latter from the room, because he looked like he was going to pass out.
“Are you okay now?”
Hyukjae shook his head. And Sungmin worried over his ability to speak, or make eye contact, or breathe.
“What happened in there?”
Hyukjae shook his head again.
“Fine.” Sungmin gave up and said, “You’re making me crazy - the two of you. If you have feelings for him, deal with it like an adult, Lee Hyukjae. You can’t keep running away. And if he doesn’t want you, you know what, he has all the reasons to kick your ass out of this house but he’s not doing that. Evidently he wants you to stay. Evidently he wants you to stay for as long as you can but he’s not going to ask that of you, you stupid son of a gun. He’s too scared to ask anything of you because of what you did. Stay if you want to. But don’t fucking leave him again.”
“And if he leaves me?”
“Well, don’t blame me. Blame God. Or the universe. Or cancer. Or Hades. Or whoever’s in charge of taking people’s lives.”
Hyukjae sighed.
“You have no right to be scared about him leaving you, okay? No right. At all.”
--
Donghae’s mother tucked him in, monitoring his breathing for a little while before leaving the room. Hyukjae was at the kitchen waiting for her. For days, he stayed at their guest room - which was originally Donghae’s but the apparatus wouldn’t fit so he had to move.
“Is he okay?”
She smiled at Hyukjae, “He is now.” Hyukjae poured her some tea and gave it to her. “You’re going back to college in a week, right?”
Hyukjae nodded. “But I wanted to be transferred to the nearer campus.” She looked at him and the look on her eyes kind of scared him; so he lied, “I swear it’s not because of Donghae. I just wanted to be like twenty minutes away from the… garage since… I’ll be working part-time again?”
“We have a small house, Hyukjae. I heard what you and Sungmin were talking about.”
“Oh,” he said, dumbfounded. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s scary,” she said. “But it’s okay. I’ll keep loving Donghae and I’ll keep him alive for as long as I can and as long as his body can handle it.”
“I’m really sorry.”
She smiled at him, “It’s really scary. But it’s okay.” She had emptied her small cup by then. “If he leaves me, I’ll be sad but I’ll be okay. But I don’t care for him thinking about the time he’ll leave me, Hyukjae. I care for him thinking about how happy we can be while we’re together.”
--
Hyukjae held an umbrella over his head, walking to class while trying to keep his shoes dry. A few guys from his class passed by him, running to the nearest building. Nobody had foreseen the rain, apparently. And only a few people were armed with umbrellas.
He saw her waiting for the rain to stop at the shade of Arts and Literature Building, glancing at her watch, probably late for class.
“You’re heading for Philosophy, right?”
She looked at Hyukjae and sighed, hesitating, before she finally gave in, sharing the umbrella with him. “Thanks,” she mumbled. This was the first time they saw each other after Hyukjae broke up with her two weeks ago.
“I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t push it, Hyukjae.” She walked swift, and Hyukaje hurried to share the umbrella with her properly. “How is your friend, by the way?”
“He’s okay.”
Her lips were pursed together in straight line, “Have you told him?”
Hyukjae glanced at her, and said, “No.”
“What are you waiting for, then?” She said and saw him shrug. “Well, you better hurry. It’s not like you have forever.”
“I know,” he replied; noticing how her steps were slower and smaller.
“Thanks, Hyukjae,” she said.
He realized how they were already in the Philosophy Building and people were hurrying around them, running to all direction, some braving their way through the rain and others swiftly escaping from it. He was going to say something but he stopped, because she kissed his cheek and disappeared abruptly.
And he realized how much she must have liked him. Then, he realized how he liked her a lot, too.
--
Donghae was having trouble breathing that day and Sungmin didn’t show up as planned for a paper he was writing. His mother had helped him ease his breathing, and had already called his doctor so that an ambulance was on the way to fetch him.
Hyukjae had come home to an empty house since Donghae had to stay for a couple of hours in the hospital. The ice cream cake he had bought was starting to melt inside its box, and he stared at it blankly, instead of reading To Kill a Mockingbird like he planned to.
He had fallen asleep on the bench.
After about an hour, Donghae arrived with his mother and he walked to the bench to wake him up. He poked his face with a finger and picked up the book that had fallen to the floor.
“Good morning,” Donghae said as Hyukjae blinked to consciousness. It’s already half past eight in the evening. Mom’s preparing dinner. I hope you’re hungry.”
“God,” Hyukjae stood up and his back ached because he slept wrongly. “How long have you been here?”
They started their way towards the door, and Donghae replied, “Just a while ago.”
The ice cream cake was saved by a few more hours on the freezer, and Hyukjae brought it upstairs to Donghae’s room only to find him setting up the game console. Hyukjae tentatively held his designated controller, a little anxious since it’s been a while since he played.
“I’m out of practice. I wonder how many levels we’ll actually finish,” Donghae mumbled, taking his old spot beside Hyukjae on the floor.
“I haven’t killed zombies in a while,” Hyukjae laughed. “This might be fun.”
Hence, zombies were killed and virtual Hyukjaes and Donghaes sometimes died along with them. It takes a few more games before they realized their hands hurt and that it’s almost past Donghae’s bed time. His mother knocked a few times and Hyukjae hurriedly turned everything off while Donghae quickly hid behind his covers.
“Guys, you can play the whole day tomorrow,” she said, helping Hyukjae clean up the empty plates on the floor. “Donghae, go brush your teeth first.”
Donghae followed her in a heartbeat, excusing himself to go to his bathroom.
“I’m sorry,” Hyukjae whispered when Donghae had shut the door. “I shouldn’t have made him stay up this late.”
She tousled Hyukjae’s hair and smiled, “Go brush your teeth as well and sleep. You have lessons to learn, I take it?”
“Yup.”
“You two can study together instead of these childish games, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
--
“I hate Ayn Rand,” Donghae said with an almost violent conviction. “I don’t understand this book at all.”
“You’re not even half-way yet!” Hyukjae scolded him.
“I’m not finishing that crap,” he said. “I’m watching Sherlock over and over again until they air the new season. I don’t care.”
“Wow,” Hyukjae exclaimed. “This is worse than your passion for Master Chef!”
Donghae turned the television on, and Hyukjae continued reading To Kill a Mocking Bird, consoling himself by the feel of Donghae’s hand playing with his hair absently.
There was something tentative about everything. Donghae had been more careful in dealing with Hyukjae. Somehow, Hyukjae felt as if he’s keeping something to himself all the time, as if he’s not laying out everything on the table like he used to. And he didn’t hold it against Donghae, because he had all the right to be mad at him. Hyukjae, on the other hand, had been more careful, too. He didn’t make promises, like he did before. He thought about things before he says them.
And he felt as if they were dodging some questions and issues all the time. And they were. They didn’t talk about the legalization of same-sex marriage in France because that would entail emotions and probably personal opinions that they’re not ready to deal with yet. Donghae didn’t bring up Hyukjae’s girlfriend; he didn’t even know that they’ve broken up until Sungmin told him about it in passing a few visits ago.
They had been very careful, yet Hyukjae felt as if Donghae’s hand on the strands of his hair was a beginning. And even if they were living a life of uncertainties, he was sure that he didn’t want this to end.
“Hey, Donghae?” Hyukjae called his attention. He smiled wider when the hand on this hair didn’t stop.
--
A/N: I apologize to Ayn Rand’s fans/readers. I don’t actually hate her. I don’t know her/her works enough to hate her. :3 On the other hand, this story ends right there, just when Hyukjae was on the verge of something… big, because if it didn’t, I wouldn’t stop writing it. Yay. :D