There are uncertainties in the world (and you are one of them)
Title: There are uncertainties in the world (and you are one of them)
Author: xoxo_nat_xx
Pairing: Hyukjae/Donghae, Donghae/Eunhyuk
Ratings: PG-13
Summary: Hyukjae gives, even though the other only knows who Eunhyuk is.
It’s about 2 in the morning when Hyukjae feels the slight shift on his bed. He mumbles something incomprehensible, and he moves, turning towards the wall, to make space for the other on the single-sized bed. His brain is kind of fuzzy at such an unearthly hour, so he doesn’t question it; he thinks he already knows who the other is.
Hyukjae groans, and the other snuggles into his back a little more. He feels the slight puffs of air the other breathes, raising small hairs on his neck, but Hyukjae is kind of used to this, so he lets the other be. He squeezes his eyes tightly, even though they are already closed to begin with, but Hyukjae doesn’t want to see.
The steady breathing emitted is suddenly broken by one jagged intake of breath, and Hyukjae doesn’t need to ask, he already knows. He feels the slight damp patch that is growing on his back, near the collar of his shirt, as a sharp nose presses hard into the space between his shoulder blades. The fingers, those fingers, clutch forcefully at his shirt, grasping, and Hyukjae feels the fabric of the shirt pull, and he thinks about his heart.
He waits, he waits till the sobs subside, fade a little, but Hyukjae still doesn’t turn around. He keeps his breathing soft and stable, as if he is all asleep and unaware of this whole episode. He thinks he used to this, used to being a pillow for the other to cry into, used to being the bolster for the other to vent his frustrations, used to being a substitute.
An arm wraps itself over Hyukjae’s lithe waist, and Hyukjae curses silently in his mind as he notes how he freezes at such a simple action. He hears a small, watery chuckle, as the other tries his best to snuffle his sobs and gasps, and laugh at Hyukjae’s response. Now he knows, Hyukjae thinks, he knows that Hyukjae isn’t asleep. And Hyukjae shuts his eyes even more tightly.
Eunhyuk, Eunhyuk, the other is whispering, and he pulls Hyukjae over so the both of them can see each other’s faces clearly. Hyukjae smells the strong, pungent smell of soju hovering around the other like a protective shroud, and he tries his best to not wrinkle his nose.
He said no, again, the other is breathing, and Hyukjae lifts a hand to place it over the other’s muscular frame, pulling the other closer to tuck that chin into the space between his shoulder and neck. I know, Hyukjae wants to say, but the words somehow get stuck in his throat, staying there uncomfortably.
It’s irrational, Hyukjae knows, but he never finds his heart to say it out. He said no, the other repeats again, and Hyukjae finds himself being pulled down for a kiss. Hyukjae knows it’s wrong, that giving someone comfort in this sense is absolutely wrong, but he goes along with it, and the other starts pressing back harder. It’s chapped, a little rough, anger, frustration all mixed into one, but Hyukjae tries to lie to himself, and he injects a bit of love inside.
Soon they will end up a mess of tangled limbs on the bed, the bed sheets crumpled and wrinkled, bits of clothing hanging over the bed post, or on the floor, and hands will start roaming around, and Hyukjae knows, even though the other doesn’t treat Hyukjae as Hyukjae, but as a substitute for someone else, but he continues, he puts Eunhyuk up as a front, and he continues. There’s always something different, the way how the other takes Hyukjae, the way how they kiss together, though they are needy for a different reason. The other wants to forget, but Hyukjae clouds his mind successfully, and he thinks it’s love.
But something stays the same, always, at the end of it all. The tear tracks, the wetness that Hyukjae feels on his own cheeks as the wet tip of the other’s nose pokes into his face, the way the other bites him intently then grunts and moans someone else’s name as it ends, and Hyukjae is falling, he’s kind of sure there is a bed full of fluff, feathers and all to cushion his fall, but he hasn’t stopped falling since last year.
He gets out of his own bed after everything ends, wearing his clothes, and he stares at his own reflection in the mirror. He traces the eyebags, the wrinkles, the tiredness, the confusion, the pain etched firmly, set into the face, and Hyukjae wonders when his face has turned into the one in the mirror. He picks up the lipbalm on the dressing table, and he ghosts it over his mouth, soothing the chapped lips, reveling in the mint taste. He hasn’t found the courage to stop this, not yet, because he wants it, he wants this.
Hyukjae walks over to the peaceful, lying figure on the mattress, and he presses his lips against the other, stealing one chaste kiss. He likes the way he feels the mint get transferred onto the other’s lips, and he lingers a bit too long, he thinks. Carefully, he wipes away a brooding tear trapped at the corner of the other’s eyes, and he pulls the covers a little higher. He smiles, and he straightens, walking towards the door.
Tomorrow, when the other wakes up, this will be erased, and Hyukjae will greet him the same they do, always. Tomorrow when the other wakes up, Hyukjae will continue, smiling, dancing, and laughing all in the same ways friends do over their passions, what they love, what they want.
Tomorrow, when they wake up, they will be best friends again, and nothing more.
Hyukjae smiles, and he leaves the tear shining on his cheeks as he closes the door lightly to escape to the moon-lit living room.
항상 사랑해요. 동해…
But the best friend will never know.
A/N: I want to say sorry, but I don't know why I am saying it for.
Author: xoxo_nat_xx
Pairing: Hyukjae/Donghae, Donghae/Eunhyuk
Ratings: PG-13
Summary: Hyukjae gives, even though the other only knows who Eunhyuk is.
It’s about 2 in the morning when Hyukjae feels the slight shift on his bed. He mumbles something incomprehensible, and he moves, turning towards the wall, to make space for the other on the single-sized bed. His brain is kind of fuzzy at such an unearthly hour, so he doesn’t question it; he thinks he already knows who the other is.
Hyukjae groans, and the other snuggles into his back a little more. He feels the slight puffs of air the other breathes, raising small hairs on his neck, but Hyukjae is kind of used to this, so he lets the other be. He squeezes his eyes tightly, even though they are already closed to begin with, but Hyukjae doesn’t want to see.
The steady breathing emitted is suddenly broken by one jagged intake of breath, and Hyukjae doesn’t need to ask, he already knows. He feels the slight damp patch that is growing on his back, near the collar of his shirt, as a sharp nose presses hard into the space between his shoulder blades. The fingers, those fingers, clutch forcefully at his shirt, grasping, and Hyukjae feels the fabric of the shirt pull, and he thinks about his heart.
He waits, he waits till the sobs subside, fade a little, but Hyukjae still doesn’t turn around. He keeps his breathing soft and stable, as if he is all asleep and unaware of this whole episode. He thinks he used to this, used to being a pillow for the other to cry into, used to being the bolster for the other to vent his frustrations, used to being a substitute.
An arm wraps itself over Hyukjae’s lithe waist, and Hyukjae curses silently in his mind as he notes how he freezes at such a simple action. He hears a small, watery chuckle, as the other tries his best to snuffle his sobs and gasps, and laugh at Hyukjae’s response. Now he knows, Hyukjae thinks, he knows that Hyukjae isn’t asleep. And Hyukjae shuts his eyes even more tightly.
Eunhyuk, Eunhyuk, the other is whispering, and he pulls Hyukjae over so the both of them can see each other’s faces clearly. Hyukjae smells the strong, pungent smell of soju hovering around the other like a protective shroud, and he tries his best to not wrinkle his nose.
He said no, again, the other is breathing, and Hyukjae lifts a hand to place it over the other’s muscular frame, pulling the other closer to tuck that chin into the space between his shoulder and neck. I know, Hyukjae wants to say, but the words somehow get stuck in his throat, staying there uncomfortably.
It’s irrational, Hyukjae knows, but he never finds his heart to say it out. He said no, the other repeats again, and Hyukjae finds himself being pulled down for a kiss. Hyukjae knows it’s wrong, that giving someone comfort in this sense is absolutely wrong, but he goes along with it, and the other starts pressing back harder. It’s chapped, a little rough, anger, frustration all mixed into one, but Hyukjae tries to lie to himself, and he injects a bit of love inside.
Soon they will end up a mess of tangled limbs on the bed, the bed sheets crumpled and wrinkled, bits of clothing hanging over the bed post, or on the floor, and hands will start roaming around, and Hyukjae knows, even though the other doesn’t treat Hyukjae as Hyukjae, but as a substitute for someone else, but he continues, he puts Eunhyuk up as a front, and he continues. There’s always something different, the way how the other takes Hyukjae, the way how they kiss together, though they are needy for a different reason. The other wants to forget, but Hyukjae clouds his mind successfully, and he thinks it’s love.
But something stays the same, always, at the end of it all. The tear tracks, the wetness that Hyukjae feels on his own cheeks as the wet tip of the other’s nose pokes into his face, the way the other bites him intently then grunts and moans someone else’s name as it ends, and Hyukjae is falling, he’s kind of sure there is a bed full of fluff, feathers and all to cushion his fall, but he hasn’t stopped falling since last year.
He gets out of his own bed after everything ends, wearing his clothes, and he stares at his own reflection in the mirror. He traces the eyebags, the wrinkles, the tiredness, the confusion, the pain etched firmly, set into the face, and Hyukjae wonders when his face has turned into the one in the mirror. He picks up the lipbalm on the dressing table, and he ghosts it over his mouth, soothing the chapped lips, reveling in the mint taste. He hasn’t found the courage to stop this, not yet, because he wants it, he wants this.
Hyukjae walks over to the peaceful, lying figure on the mattress, and he presses his lips against the other, stealing one chaste kiss. He likes the way he feels the mint get transferred onto the other’s lips, and he lingers a bit too long, he thinks. Carefully, he wipes away a brooding tear trapped at the corner of the other’s eyes, and he pulls the covers a little higher. He smiles, and he straightens, walking towards the door.
Tomorrow, when the other wakes up, this will be erased, and Hyukjae will greet him the same they do, always. Tomorrow when the other wakes up, Hyukjae will continue, smiling, dancing, and laughing all in the same ways friends do over their passions, what they love, what they want.
Tomorrow, when they wake up, they will be best friends again, and nothing more.
Hyukjae smiles, and he leaves the tear shining on his cheeks as he closes the door lightly to escape to the moon-lit living room.
항상 사랑해요. 동해…
But the best friend will never know.
A/N: I want to say sorry, but I don't know why I am saying it for.