worth keeping (oneshot)
Title: Worth Keeping
Pairing: Doojoon/Yoseob
Genre:: AU, suspense, romance
Word count: 6241
Rating: PG-13
Warnings:: language, character death
Summary: Yoseob gets into an accident which isn't an accident.
Notes:: Written for kpop_olymfics for Team AU. The prompt was Big Bang's song, "Let Me Hear Your Voice."
Pain shoots through Doojoon's hand from his knuckles to his wrist, and Kikwang stumbles back, catching himself before he falls. Dongwoon steadies Kikwang with a hand on his shoulder, watching Doojoon carefully out of the corner of his eye. Doojoon takes a step back, running his hand through his hair despite the pain. Off in the corner, he hears a low chuckle, followed by a slow clap as Junhyung gets to his feet.
"Feeling better now?" he asks. Doojoon's frown twitches. "I have no problem with you taking your anger out on Kikwang, though we all know it's not his fault." His sunglasses slide down his nose, sharp eyes locking on Doojoon's face. "I need to leave as soon as possible, so tell me, what do you plan on doing about this?"
Doojoon's hands clench at his sides, hot and sweaty. He takes a seat on the plastic bench as a nurse passes him to tend to Kikwang's nose, shooting Doojoon a dirty look on her way. He holds his head in his hands. A deep inhale, followed by a sigh. It wasn't Kikwang's fault. Yoseob had been the one to ask to change shifts. Yoseob had been completely alone on that delivery run. It's not as if Kikwang had anything to do with that truck-
He tenses, grinding his teeth. A hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and he looks up to find Junhyung peering down at him. "I'm thinking," he mumbles, alarmed at how feeble his voice sounds. Junhyung notices, too, his lips curving into the slightest smirk before settling down onto the bench beside Doojoon.
"I warned you, didn't I?" Junhyung says quietly, so that Kikwang and Dongwoon can't overhear from their positions a few feet away. "It was getting out of hand. You two were becoming too public." The hand on Doojoon's shoulder squeezes, hard. "You said you would take responsibility, like you always did."
"And I plan to," Doojoon replies, the strength slowly coming back to his voice. "I will find out who's behind this and take care of it, don't worry."
Junhyung claps him on the back, rising back to his feet. "That is very good to hear. I wouldn't want this mess to ruin the good feelings between our businesses."
Doojoon laughs, a quick and bitter, "Of course not."
A shadow falls over Doojoon and a hand gently touching his arm. "Sansaeng-nim."
"Hyunseung," he sighs, relieved, and stands up. He turns to Junhyung. "I have several calls to make. Will you all be staying here with him?" Kikwang and Dongwoon nod.
"I have to get back, but these two will stay and call you when he wakes up," Junhyung replies. The two exchange nods before exiting in different directions, leaving Kikwang and Dongwoon alone in the hospital's cold hall.
The call comes around two in the afternoon as he sleeps hunched over his desk. Doojoon isn't even sure how or when he managed to fall asleep, but as soon as Dongwoon's words reach his ears, he peels a sheet of paper and bolts out the door of his office, almost dropping his cell phone in the process.
"Complete loss of hearing appears to be the only lasting effect of the trauma," the doctor says quietly, glancing over at where Kikwang sits on the bench, his arms crossed angrily with his knee bouncing in agitation. Returning his focus to Doojoon, he sighs. "Frankly, he should be glad to be alive. The surgery was an amazing success."
"Any chance he'll get it back?" Doojoon asks, receiving a scornful look.
"It's far too early to guess. He'll need to remain in the hospital for at least a month to recover from the operation, and we'll run tests to determine the likelihood of that. In the meantime, we'll supply him with information on how to adjust to his new lifestyle, should he need to."
The hospital parking deck is dim and cool, a relief from the stifling chaos of the halls. Doojoon takes a long drag at his cigarette, focusing on the cement wall before him as the phone rings faintly in his ear. He almost doesn't notice when Hyunseung finally picks up. "Please tell me you've made progress."
"You could say that." The voice on the other end is rough, obviously lacking sleep, but still holding that slight edge which tells Doojoon everything he needs to know.
"Hit me."
Keys clack incessantly in the background as Hyunseung speaks: "Only three trucks from our warehouse were reported leaving last night. One was making a delivery and has been verified at its destination. One was out for maintenance and is still in the shop. The last one is our truck- seen leaving the warehouse around one in the afternoon, signed out with an ID we can't verify. And get this: it's still missing."
"So the ID must be a forgery," he sighs, rubbing his forehead with one hand. The ash from his cigarette falls, almost grazing his cheek before landing on his suit jacket.
"We have all IDs listed in the database, and somehow this number isn't there. It must have looked very real for the guard to let the driver pass." Hyunseung pauses, and Doojoon can guess the next question. "So who do we know that can create an accurate forgery of our IDs?"
Doojoon stubs out his cigarette on the wall. "Don't ask me stupid questions." He's surprised by the laugh that floats weakly through the speaker.
"Fine then. What would you like me to do?" The clatter of keys stops, and Hyunseung groans as if stretching.
"Nothing for now." He pauses. "Wait, send flowers to my wife for me. Her birthday is in a few days and I'm not sure if I'll be able to get home before then. Pick out some nice ones."
"Don't I always?"
This time, Doojoon laughs. "Shut the fuck up."
The second the nurses discover Doojoon isn't related to Yoseob, a solid wall of bureaucracy springs up between him and the patient's room. That first day he ends up leaving, fruitless in his attempts, after endless unanswered calls to Junhyung.
"I'm going to handle this," he growls as he leaves his final message on Junhyung's answering machine. "Just fucking let me see him. The nurses are already suspicious enough that a man Yoseob's own age is listed as his guardian." He can imagine Junhyung laughing quietly when he hears Doojoon's desperate voice on the recording, and he almost laughs, too, in spite of himself. "Call me. I know who it was."
Junhyung decides to call Doojoon at three the next morning, not hiding his amusement at Doojoon's drowsy voice. "Meet me at the hospital in an hour, and you had better tell me everything." Doojoon doesn't even care that he hasn't showered or changed his suit in days; his blood pounds in his ears and he feels delirious as he runs out of his office for the second time in twenty-four hours.
They meet in a cafe across the street from the hospital, Junhyung insisting they order coffee before hearing what Doojoon has to say. The tension in his shoulders eases a bit as he wraps his hands around the warm mug. Junhyung watches him constantly, but he's used to that by now.
"I'm going to be honest here- I can't tell you who it is yet." Junhyung's eyebrows raise, but he doesn't interrupt. "I plan to take full responsibility for this. I can't tell you when, but it'll be handled."
"Very vague," Junhyung replies, not necessarily displeased. Most of the time Doojoon honestly has no idea what Junhyung is thinking or feeling. "I do trust that you'll take care of everything. But I can't help but be curious." He removes his sunglasses- a rare move- and Doojoon is surprised by the brightness in Junhyung's eyes, brimming with something like excitement. "Why?"
"Why what? Now you're the one being vague." Doojoon smiles to himself. He relishes the rare moments he can think of a comeback to Junhyung, but to his disappointment, Junhyung appears to ignore him this time.
"I've introduced you to dozens of people, Doojoon," he says, voice low. "You wanted a wife, I gave you Gayoon. You wanted mistresses, I gave you mistresses. You wanted Yoseob, and once again, I gave him to you. But why-" He leans forward, as if getting closer to Doojoon's face would help him uncover a secret hiding in Doojoon's tired eyes. "Why him?"
"Like you said, I wanted him." He meets Junhyung's intent gaze, flinching as he resists the urge to look away.
"You let the others go, though. You always told me, 'Don't worry, this is temporary.' The only reason I let all of those girls get hurt was because I knew you'd leave them in a better situation than when you met them. You took care of them for me. Gayoon didn't seem to mind, either." He chuckles to himself. "Poor Gayoon, though I guess she is better off than the rest. At least you married her."
"She's an incredible woman." He tries to to force himself to smile, but fails and isn't sure what expression ends up on his face instead. "I know I've hurt her quite a bit, but I've never believed in loving only one person for my entire life."
"You still haven't answered my question, Doojoon," Junhyung says, drinking the last of his coffee and standing up. "But I suppose the answer isn't all that important."
They speak to several administrators and a nurse, and Doojoon is added to a few lists. Junhyung's strange position of guardianship isn't questioned, but it's rare that anyone questions Junhyung upon meeting him. The head nurse informs Doojoon that Yoseob should be awake, and he may visit as often as he likes. His palms are sweaty when he reaches the door, number 502, with a tiny placard that reads, "Yang Yoseob."
He's propped up on pillows the same color as the blankets pooled around his waist. His head is wrapped in clean bandages, his eyes are red, and his skin is ashen. The IV in his arms flaps against the hospital bed as he waves, smiling, but not really. Doojoon is tempted to run right back out the door, but Yoseob's tired eyes watch him calmly and hold him firmly in place.
"How are you?" is the first thing he can think to say. Something darkens in Yoseob's expression, and he doesn't answer. It takes Doojoon a good five minutes to understand. "Oh." Yoseob chuckles, albeit weakly, and motions for Doojoon to sit down on the end of the bed.
"Use that," he says, voice slightly too loud. On a small table next to the bed is a dry-erase board complete with marker. Doojoon grinds his teeth as he reaches for it, and his apprehension must show in his expression because Yoseob laughs again. "They're going to work with me on lip-reading, so it's not forever." But then, Doojoon wonders, what will be forever? He takes the board and carefully writes out his earlier question, earning him another half-hearted smile. "I'm good."
Doojoon erases the first message and writes a new one. You sure?
"Yes, I promise."
Doojoon frowns. Liar.
"I'm good, Doojoon." He can tell Yoseob is trying to be firm, but his voice wavers slightly at the end. Doojoon wonders if Yoseob notices, if he's able to notice. He lets the subject drop for now.
Is there anything you need? Yoseob's tired eyes meet Doojoon's over the board, all humor gone from them. He sighs and leans back into his pillows, staring at the ceiling.
"Why are you here, Doojoon? Go home." Doojoon's starts to say something, a rambling set of "um, but, I," but Yoseob continues, not being able to hear him. "I don't want you feeling responsible for this. I know it's not your fault, so just go."
For several minutes, they stay like that, frozen. Doojoon doesn't dare move from his spot on the bed, and Yoseob refuses to look down from the ceiling. Finally, Doojoon uncaps the marker, writing the only thing that comes to mind. He hovers it over Yoseob's turned-up face:
I don't want to leave. Nothing in Yoseob's expression changes. He grabs the board, yanks it out of Doojoon's hands and throws it across the room. It clatters to the floor, a bit of the plastic border snapping off.
"I said get out," Yoseob says in a low whisper, and this time Doojoon listens, because there's a nurse walking through the door with a very displeased look on her face. He nods at her as he leaves the room, and says something to Kikwang and Dongwoon as he passes, which he hopes sounds like, "Watch him for me."
At the doctor's suggestion, Doojoon stays away from the hospital. He calls Dongwoon and Kikwang every few hours to check in, but the updates are always the same. "He just had another check-up." "He made us bring him a CD player." "The nurse says his other injuries are healing well." "He doesn't really like talking."
Junhyung also avoids the hospital, instead choosing to call Doojoon once a day to check on both the status of Yoseob and the investigation into the cause of the accident. His focus is usually on the latter. Three days after the accident, Doojoon can sense Junhyung's mounting impatience.
"If you know who it is, why don't you do something?" Junhyung's tone is deceptively calm, but Doojoon knows he's being put under pressure.
"It's not that easy, Junhyung."
"Why not?"
He rubs his forehead, his sleep-deprived eyes. "It's gotten complicated. There's no other way to put it."
A sigh. "I don't give a shit about complicated, Doojoon, I just want something done."
Exhausted, Doojoon gives in. "What would you have me do?"
A pleasant laugh. "Well, considering their intent was to kill Yoseob, why not return the favor?"
Doojoon shudders, smiling to himself but masking his voice to sound solemn, unsure. "If that's what you want."
A week has gone by since his visit with Yoseob, and Doojoon can't seem to focus. Hyunseung enters his office at quarter past three, setting a velvet box on his boss' desk in a silent reminder. A nod, and Doojoon picks up the phone.
"Tell Gayoon I'll be home for dinner tonight," he says to his wife's secretary. "Though I'm sure she won't believe me, I didn't forget her birthday this year."
The table is set when he arrives home with the red tablecloth and crystal stemware and silver candlestick holders. Classic glamor, the style Gayoon loves so much. She enters the room in her pumps and designer pantsuit, and Doojoon just smiles, taking a moment to stare before going to greet her. She gives him the smallest of smiles in return and allows him to peck her on the cheek before pulling out her chair for her. As he takes his seat across the table, he can feel her watching him suspiciously.
"Surprised?" he asks and motions for their servant to bring in their dinner. When the wine is poured, he raises his glass in a toast. She raises her as well with a somewhat brighter smile. "May I never forget your birthday ever again."
"Somehow I doubt that," she replies, but takes a sip. The servants bring out their plates, but instead of eating Doojoon continues to watch Gayoon. If she notices, she doesn't show it.
"I'm afraid I may have to disappoint you again," he sighs after several minutes. She doesn't look up from her meal.
"I learned a long time ago to expect disappointment."
"I can't stay home tonight, even though it's your birthday. I need to leave as soon as we finish eating."
She pauses, fork in the air, and looks at him curiously. "May I ask why?" There's a glint in her eye, which Doojoon's never seen before. It makes his stomach churn in an unusual mix of anxiety and excitement.
"A friend of mine is in the hospital," he replies and waits calmly, hands folded in front of his face to hide his smirk.
The chair creaks as Gayoon shifts forward slightly, leaning in. "What happened?" she asks, voice dripping with concern.
"A car accident. He almost died."
Her eyes widen. She sets down her fork. "My god."
"I know, and do you want to know something interesting?" he asks and lowers his voice, as if telling a story to a child. She leans in more and rests her chin on her hands with an amused smile. "I don't think it was an accident." Jaw drops, she gasps. "It's horrible! I even think it was someone with connections to my company."
"That's horrible," she whispers and her eyes fill with tears. He chuckles, reaching out to wipe a tear away as it escapes down her cheek.
"I can't remember that last time I saw you cry," Doojoon muses, and she pulls back with an insulted expression. "But anyway, he's lost his hearing and is having a rough time. I need to get back as soon as possible."
Though the food has already gone cold, she returns to picking at her plate. "Is that where you've been the last week?" she asks. He nods, and though she isn't looking up and doesn't respond, he knows she sees it.
"I may have to disappoint you yet again, Gayoon," he says. She laughs bitterly, but doesn't respond, so he continues. "I've been having an affair with him."
"You've had countless affairs," she replies all too quickly, her fork scraping against the plate painfully.
"Yes, but he's special."
"Everyone is special to you."
"Gayoon, I-" he begins, exasperated, but she cuts him off by slamming her knife and fork down on the table.
"Just stop," she says, voice almost pleading. "I know what you're going to say, so there's no need to say it. I've been married to you for five years, Doojoon, and for not a single one have you been loyal to me. But not once have I ever minded or objected, because I was and will always be grateful to you. If I hadn't met you, I'd still be in jail."
"You looked so cute in the uniform," he jokes, catching her off-guard, and a faint blush creeps across her face. "It took a lot of money to bail out a criminal charged with hacking into and stealing from that many banks."
"Like I said, I'm grateful." A frustrated sigh, she crosses her arms. "And that's why I didn't mind, because I knew you would help them, just like you helped me, but I don't like it, Doojoon."
"What?" This time it's Doojoon who leans in closer as he mumbles his question, and she instinctively pulls back in her seat.
"That look you have. That you've had for the past month. I don't like it. It's as if you've found something worth keeping."
"'Something worth keeping,'" he repeats, testing the feel of the phrase in his mouth with an amused smile on his face.
"Yes," she says, voice weak. "It's how you looked at me back when we first met."
For a split second he wishes he could say something reassuring, though he knows he can't. Instead, he reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out the velvet box, getting to his feet and crossing to her side of the table. He opens it where she can see the necklace, sparkling in the dim light of the candles with its countless diamonds. She gasps and words fail her as he takes it out of the box and clasps it around her neck.
He kisses the curve of her neck before mumbling in her ear, "I'm sorry, but I need to go." She grabs at his arm, but misses. Reluctantly, he looks back at her strained, desperate face. Tears run downs her cheek, smearing her perfect make-up, and he wipes a few away with his thumb. "You really were something worth keeping," he sighs so quietly he's not sure she hears it.
"Is that damn delivery boy so important?" she sobs, composure crumbling. He pauses, turns and allows the smile he's been holding back all evening to surface. Something inside him breaks, and yet he's glad.
"Gayoon," he chuckles. "I never said he was a delivery boy." With that, he strides from the room. He ignores her as she calls his name, falling to the floor and crying.
The blood is pounding in his ears when Doojoon sinks into the leather seat of his car and sweat pours down the back of his neck. The thrill leaves him, numb and hands shaking as they reach to grip the wheel. The cars starts and he hits the speed dial on his phone. The dull ring over the speaker phone helps him focus as he pulls onto the road.
"Junhyung," he says as soon as the line picks up. "It's settled. Are you sure you want to go through with it?"
A pause, then a sigh mixed with static. "Stop asking dumb questions and do it," Junhyung's tired voice mutters. The hair on the back of Doojoon's neck stands on end and he laughs nervously. The line disconnects.
Doojoon's phone beeps the second he steps out of the car, motioning for Hyunseung to go park the car while he heads inside the hospital. A text for Kikwang, short but not necessarily sweet:
No progress. With the doctors. Wait in the room.
He looks up, and across the street Dongwoon waves to him in the front window of the cafe. Kikwang's back is visible, but he doesn't turn to see Doojoon. Not that Doojoon expects him to, because Kikwang hasn't spoken to him since the accident and he surely isn't going to tonight, when Dongwoon is about to slip out of the cafe the second Doojoon is inside the hospital. Kikwang would never approve of their plan. Doojoon knows he'll have to rely on Dongwoon to calm him down later, that is, as long as everything went smoothly. If not...
Forcing the thought from his mind, he steps through the automatic doors and up to the front desk.
A nurse kindly escorts Doojoon to the room and leaves him in front of the door. She asks him to wait outside until "the patient" has returned. He nods his agreement and takes a seat on the bench with fidgeting hands. After countless watch-checks and sighs, a squeak down the hall sends him turning in his seat so quickly he almost slips off. The nurse motions him to be quiet, gently rolling Yoseob, who slumps with closed eyes in the wheelchair, into the dark room. Doojoon follows and flips the light-switch when the nurse directs him to with her eyes. While she helps Yoseob shift back up into his bed, Doojoon settles into in the hard, plastic chair
With a smile at the nurse, Yoseob wordlessly sinks into the pillows behind his head. If he notices Doojoon, he doesn't show it. The nurse leaves, giving Doojoon a pat on the shoulder and mouthing "He'll be okay." Doojoon almost wants to laugh at that, but then again, he doesn't really expect her to remember the condition of each of her patients.
His stomach turns as the door clicks shut. "Doojoon." He turns, Yoseob stares, then makes a vague waving motion. "Grab the board and get over here," Yoseob sighs, voice hoarse. Doojoon grabs the whiteboard off the nightstand and sits at the very end of the bed, wincing when his weight shifts the mattress. Yoseob smiles. "Relax, it's not like I'm dying here."
Doojoon sets the board on his lap and scribbles for a second. How have you been? Yoseob's eyes drift over the words, then away.
"Hey, could you turn that on?" he says, ignoring the question. He points to the side, to a small CD player set up on the stand. Doojoon hesitates, but Yoseob keeps pointing, eyes on the wall. As Doojoon presses the button, a burst of static followed by pounding rock music makes him jump and fumbles for the volume button. Yoseob laughs, raising his arms as if stretching. "Sorry, I was messing around with it earlier." After flipping through the few CDs piled next to the device, Doojoon chooses one that looks familiar and switches it out for the offending rock, which he's fairly certain doesn't even belong to Yoseob. Not his style. He returns to his seat on the bed, relaxing as the first, familiar chords play from the speakers. He picked the right one. He glances at Yoseob, wonders if he remembers it, too, but Yoseob's just staring at Doojoon. He looks away, face heating up, and he can't believe he forgot again.
"What'd you pick?" Yoseob asks, voice quiet and distant. "I can't hear it." Doojoon opens his mouth to apologize, then closes it, his panic worsening. Yoseob stops him when he starts to write something on the board. "Don't bother, Doojoon. It's okay."
Silence, except for the quiet, soulful music from the CD player.
"You know what's the weirdest part?" Yoseob asks after a moment, reaching to the side awkwardly to pick up the small player. He doesn't wait or look up to see if Doojoon is listening, but stares intently at it with curious eyes. "When you mute something, or turn the volume down, you know that the sound just isn't there. If you want it back, you press a button or turn a knob. If that doesn't work, something's wrong. Broken." He turns the volume knob, the music immediately blasting from the speakers and making Doojoon wince. Yoseob's expression doesn't change. "But now, I know it's there. I can tell, because you're reacting to it." He turns the knob again, making the volume so low even Doojoon can't hear it. "But it's not there for me. It's somewhere beyond me now." He meets Doojoon's gaze with a strange smile.
"It's like I'm in a different dimension or something. Not just music. People, too. You all talk, but what you say is beyond me. I'm completely cut off from everyone." He lets his eyes fall, sniffing and rubbing the tears in his eyes away with his sleeve. He swats away Doojoon's hand when he reaches out for his face.
Doojoon leans over, putting his hands over Yoseob's on the CD player. Surprisingly, Yoseob lets him, and Doojoon takes the opportunity to look more closely at Yoseob's face while he stares at the device in his lap. The bandages around Yoseob's head are now a single strip, probably there only to cover the stitches. Doojoon's breath catches- stitches, he hadn't thought about that. Stitches, which would mean scars. Would his hair grow back over the scars? He'd have to ask the doctor.
He blinks, refocuses on Yoseob's face. Not that Yoseob's hair mattered. Yoseob slips his hands out from under Doojoon's, leaning back against his pillows. Worried that he'll stare, Doojoon fiddles with the knobs on the device. If only the brain worked like a CD player, with switches to flip and buttons to press to change the settings. His fingers slide over the bass knob, the heavy throb in his hands like an erratic heartbeat. Then it hits him, like that cliche, a lightning bolt straight to the brain. Turning the volume up, then the bass, he sets the player on the bed before grabbing Yoseob's hands, holding them against its sides.
When he lets go, Yoseob tries to as well, but he forces Yoseob's back around with a firm shake of his head. Yoseob watches Doojoon, tired and confused, but complying, as he scrambles for the board and marker. It takes him four attempts, searching for the right word. Making sure Yoseob's hands are still on the player, he flips the board around.
Vibrations. Yoseob looks at the board, then at Doojoon, then back at the board, his mouth hanging open slightly. Doojoon sets the board down, puts his hands over Yoseob's and presses them against the player. Then he picks the board back up and points at the word. For some reason, he's panting, and his heart pounds as if he's just run a mile. A smile bursts out on his face when Yoseob eyes the player in his hands, and he nods when Yoseob looks back up at him. A quick swipe with his sleeve to remove the word, then he scribbles more on the board.
Can you feel it?
"Of course I can," Yoseob says impatiently. "But-" Doojoon silences him by raising his hand. Another swipe of his sleeve, more scribbles.
It's there! You have it! He points the marker frantically at the player, but Yoseob just squints at him, obviously questioning Doojoon's sanity. More scribbles.
The music! All he gets is an incredulous raise of the eyebrow. With a roll of his eyes, he picks back up the board and writes. When he finishes, he hesitates before flipping around the board.
It's still there.
You can't hear it, but you can feel it.
Something appears to click in Yoseob's epxression this time as he goes from reading the words to staring at the object in his hand. Doojoon sets the board to the side and puts his hands over Yoseob's again. The pounding bass is starting to make his ears throb, but he ignores it. Gently, he removes Yoseob's hands, and holds the speaker up to the side of Yoseob's face. An almost sheepish grins spreads across Yoseob's face, eyes brimming with tears, and he chuckles.
"Not exactly like hearing it, but I get your point." Yoseob moves to lean back, but Doojoon puts a hand on his shoulder, holding Yoseob still while he sets the player to the side. Smiling, he points to Yoseob's eyes, slowly blinking his own in a wordless command. Yoseob frowns and tries to move away, but Doojoon shakes his hand and mouths, slowly and carefully, "Trust me." After one more suspicious glare, Yoseob's eyes close. He puts his hand's on Yoseob's shoulders and pulls him forward, meeting a little resistance at first when Yoseob tenses, but Doojoon laughs, pulls slightly harder and Yoseob topples into his chest. Yoseob looks up, angry, but Doojoon rolls his eyes and motions for Yoseob to close his eyes again, wrapping his arms around Yoseob's shoulders. Once Yoseob settles, and Doojoon makes sure his head is in the proper place, he takes a deep breath. And hums.
At first, he hums nothing at all, and he feels self-conscience and wonders if maybe he should stop. In his arms, Yoseob tenses again, his hands awkwardly hovering near Doojoon's sides. He gains a bit more confidence as Yoseob starts to relax, and starts humming the song he'd heard on the CD player earlier. He feels a warm and wet sensation against his chest, and Yoseob's shoulders start to shake, and his hands tighten their grip, twisting in Doojoon's cotton shirt. Doojoon tightens his hold around Yoseob's shoulders and keeps humming until finally Yoseob pulls away, not bothering to wipe his face.
He doesn't look at Doojoon, instead focusing his puffy eyes on Doojoon's now tear-stained dress-shirt. "I was only with you for the money," he mumbles, and it takes Doojoon a moment to figure out what he'd said. Yoseob's eyes flicker up to Doojoon's, then back down, reading something into Doojoon's blank expression. "Junhyung told me, if I went along with it, you'd help me," he continues, speech quickening as he starts to panic. "I thought I'd just have to like meet you or something, and he didn't tell me why, and then you helped me and I thought I should-"
At this point, Doojoon is laughing, and when he realizes that Yoseob hasn't noticed, he reaches out and pulls him into a tight hug. Yoseob continues to babble against his shoulder, body quaking as he sobs. They stay like that, both shaking for different reasons, with Doojoon's hand gently rubbing the back of Yoseob's head where there are no bandages. Then, catching Doojoon off-guard, Yoseob pulls away and grabs the him by the neck. Doojoon tries to say something, but whatever it is gets muffled by Yoseob's lips as their mouths meet in a failure of a kiss. Doojoon laughs against Yoseob's mouth, causing the other to frown, embarrassed, and try to back away, only to be pulled back in for a second try. He kisses Yoseob lightly, rubbing his back through the material of his hospital gown.
It takes Yoseob a moment to react, but then his arms wrap around Doojoon's neck, forcing him closer and deepening the kiss. Reeling, Doojoon's mind slips back to their first and only kiss before the accident. In a garage, this very song playing on a cheap radio in the back, with Yoseob pressed up against a stack of tires and grease smeared across his face. His chest had been heaving when he'd shoved Doojoon away, mumbling something about needing to work and having so much debt. Doojoon had smiled, then handed him an envelope with the amount Junhyung had told him. With that, he'd left, after making Yoseob promise to call him later, though Doojoon knew he would anyway.
That had been it; the worse of their great affair.
Doojoon is first to pull away, silencing Yoseob's protests with a shake of his head and wiping his face as clean as he can with his sleeve. He gets Yoseob to lie down, then steps out and says a few words to the nurse. By the time he returns, Yoseob is fast asleep, so he sinks into the guest chair and lets himself do the same.
The key rattles in the lock as Doojoon fumbles, trying to balance all three bags while opening the door and failing miserably. Yoseob grabs one of them and shoots Doojoon a dirty glare when he tries to protest. With a sheepish smile, he finally succeeds in unlocking and opening the door. Despite Doojoon's encouraging, Yoseob hesitates outside.
"You sure it's okay? What about your wife?" Doojoon smiles and shakes his head. He drops the bags on the floor and grabs Yoseob's arm. He's tired of repeating the same story, writing it down over and over again to convince Yoseob: Gayoon is staying with her friends for the weekend because it's her birthday, just as she does every year. Yoseob doesn't believe it, but for once Doojoon isn't completely lying.
After settling Yoseob down onto the couch, Doojoon rushes to the kitchen for drinks. He sighs as he sinks into the soft cushions next to Yoseob, looking forward to sleeping in a bed for the first time in a week.
"It's really okay," he says after making sure Yoseob is looking at him. They'd been practicing all week, and Yoseob's skill at lip-reading was very slowly improving.
"It feels wrong," Yoseob mumbles and takes a sip of water.
Doojoon rolls his eyes and fishes out the board, to make things easier. You're the one who said he wanted to leave the hospital.
"And you're the one who forced me to come home with you!"
Doojoon raises an eyebrow. Forced? Yoseob's eyes shift away, and Doojoon chuckles. The truth was the there wasn't anyone living with Yoseob, so the doctors had insisted he stay with a friend for a while after leaving the hospital. Since Doojoon had been staying with Yoseob the past week, the doctors had recommended him, and Yoseob had begrudgingly agreed.
He takes the glass out of Yoseob's hand and sets it on the coffee table before pulling Yoseob to him by the waist. Doojoon rests his chin on the smaller man's shoulder, groaning in annoyance when the phone starts to ring. He chooses to ignore it and buries his face in Yoseob's neck, tightening his hold when Yoseob starts to struggle.
"Cut it out," he grumbles, elbowing Doojoon in the ribs hard enough to hurt, but not too much. When he lets his arms fall, Yoseob leans back against him. "This is so weird," he sighs.
But Doojoon doesn't hear him, because the answering machine picks up and a male voice echoes across the quiet living room:
"Yoon-sshi, we've been trying to contact you. This is the Seoul Police Department. Three days ago your wife was involved in a car accident and died. A truck hit her car, sending it rolling off the road. We're still in pursuit of the the truck and its owner. Please call us back so we can schedule you to come in and provide an official identification of the body."
Yoseob twists around, and Doojoon realizes he hasn't been breathing. "Are you okay? What's wrong" Yoseob asks. Doojoon nods, lets out the breath he's been holding, smiles. That seems to placate Yoseob, so he wraps his arms back around, hugging him close. He presses his face against Yoseob's back and begins to laugh, the sound crescendoing, bouncing off the walls of the empty mansion. Yoseob tenses in his arms, but doesn't speak, and Doojoon is grateful. His stomach turns, a wave of nausea hitting him, followed by a feeling of complete relief. He knows he needs to make some calls, make sure Dongwoon is okay, verify the details, but all he can do is hold Yoseob and laugh until he's crying against Yoseob's t-shirt.
And then a thought hits him, the first genuinely amusing thought he's had, that ironically stops his laughter. He wonders what Junhyung will say when he finds out he'd ordered the death of his own sister.
Pairing: Doojoon/Yoseob
Genre:: AU, suspense, romance
Word count: 6241
Rating: PG-13
Warnings:: language, character death
Summary: Yoseob gets into an accident which isn't an accident.
Notes:: Written for kpop_olymfics for Team AU. The prompt was Big Bang's song, "Let Me Hear Your Voice."
Pain shoots through Doojoon's hand from his knuckles to his wrist, and Kikwang stumbles back, catching himself before he falls. Dongwoon steadies Kikwang with a hand on his shoulder, watching Doojoon carefully out of the corner of his eye. Doojoon takes a step back, running his hand through his hair despite the pain. Off in the corner, he hears a low chuckle, followed by a slow clap as Junhyung gets to his feet.
"Feeling better now?" he asks. Doojoon's frown twitches. "I have no problem with you taking your anger out on Kikwang, though we all know it's not his fault." His sunglasses slide down his nose, sharp eyes locking on Doojoon's face. "I need to leave as soon as possible, so tell me, what do you plan on doing about this?"
Doojoon's hands clench at his sides, hot and sweaty. He takes a seat on the plastic bench as a nurse passes him to tend to Kikwang's nose, shooting Doojoon a dirty look on her way. He holds his head in his hands. A deep inhale, followed by a sigh. It wasn't Kikwang's fault. Yoseob had been the one to ask to change shifts. Yoseob had been completely alone on that delivery run. It's not as if Kikwang had anything to do with that truck-
He tenses, grinding his teeth. A hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and he looks up to find Junhyung peering down at him. "I'm thinking," he mumbles, alarmed at how feeble his voice sounds. Junhyung notices, too, his lips curving into the slightest smirk before settling down onto the bench beside Doojoon.
"I warned you, didn't I?" Junhyung says quietly, so that Kikwang and Dongwoon can't overhear from their positions a few feet away. "It was getting out of hand. You two were becoming too public." The hand on Doojoon's shoulder squeezes, hard. "You said you would take responsibility, like you always did."
"And I plan to," Doojoon replies, the strength slowly coming back to his voice. "I will find out who's behind this and take care of it, don't worry."
Junhyung claps him on the back, rising back to his feet. "That is very good to hear. I wouldn't want this mess to ruin the good feelings between our businesses."
Doojoon laughs, a quick and bitter, "Of course not."
A shadow falls over Doojoon and a hand gently touching his arm. "Sansaeng-nim."
"Hyunseung," he sighs, relieved, and stands up. He turns to Junhyung. "I have several calls to make. Will you all be staying here with him?" Kikwang and Dongwoon nod.
"I have to get back, but these two will stay and call you when he wakes up," Junhyung replies. The two exchange nods before exiting in different directions, leaving Kikwang and Dongwoon alone in the hospital's cold hall.
The call comes around two in the afternoon as he sleeps hunched over his desk. Doojoon isn't even sure how or when he managed to fall asleep, but as soon as Dongwoon's words reach his ears, he peels a sheet of paper and bolts out the door of his office, almost dropping his cell phone in the process.
"Complete loss of hearing appears to be the only lasting effect of the trauma," the doctor says quietly, glancing over at where Kikwang sits on the bench, his arms crossed angrily with his knee bouncing in agitation. Returning his focus to Doojoon, he sighs. "Frankly, he should be glad to be alive. The surgery was an amazing success."
"Any chance he'll get it back?" Doojoon asks, receiving a scornful look.
"It's far too early to guess. He'll need to remain in the hospital for at least a month to recover from the operation, and we'll run tests to determine the likelihood of that. In the meantime, we'll supply him with information on how to adjust to his new lifestyle, should he need to."
The hospital parking deck is dim and cool, a relief from the stifling chaos of the halls. Doojoon takes a long drag at his cigarette, focusing on the cement wall before him as the phone rings faintly in his ear. He almost doesn't notice when Hyunseung finally picks up. "Please tell me you've made progress."
"You could say that." The voice on the other end is rough, obviously lacking sleep, but still holding that slight edge which tells Doojoon everything he needs to know.
"Hit me."
Keys clack incessantly in the background as Hyunseung speaks: "Only three trucks from our warehouse were reported leaving last night. One was making a delivery and has been verified at its destination. One was out for maintenance and is still in the shop. The last one is our truck- seen leaving the warehouse around one in the afternoon, signed out with an ID we can't verify. And get this: it's still missing."
"So the ID must be a forgery," he sighs, rubbing his forehead with one hand. The ash from his cigarette falls, almost grazing his cheek before landing on his suit jacket.
"We have all IDs listed in the database, and somehow this number isn't there. It must have looked very real for the guard to let the driver pass." Hyunseung pauses, and Doojoon can guess the next question. "So who do we know that can create an accurate forgery of our IDs?"
Doojoon stubs out his cigarette on the wall. "Don't ask me stupid questions." He's surprised by the laugh that floats weakly through the speaker.
"Fine then. What would you like me to do?" The clatter of keys stops, and Hyunseung groans as if stretching.
"Nothing for now." He pauses. "Wait, send flowers to my wife for me. Her birthday is in a few days and I'm not sure if I'll be able to get home before then. Pick out some nice ones."
"Don't I always?"
This time, Doojoon laughs. "Shut the fuck up."
The second the nurses discover Doojoon isn't related to Yoseob, a solid wall of bureaucracy springs up between him and the patient's room. That first day he ends up leaving, fruitless in his attempts, after endless unanswered calls to Junhyung.
"I'm going to handle this," he growls as he leaves his final message on Junhyung's answering machine. "Just fucking let me see him. The nurses are already suspicious enough that a man Yoseob's own age is listed as his guardian." He can imagine Junhyung laughing quietly when he hears Doojoon's desperate voice on the recording, and he almost laughs, too, in spite of himself. "Call me. I know who it was."
Junhyung decides to call Doojoon at three the next morning, not hiding his amusement at Doojoon's drowsy voice. "Meet me at the hospital in an hour, and you had better tell me everything." Doojoon doesn't even care that he hasn't showered or changed his suit in days; his blood pounds in his ears and he feels delirious as he runs out of his office for the second time in twenty-four hours.
They meet in a cafe across the street from the hospital, Junhyung insisting they order coffee before hearing what Doojoon has to say. The tension in his shoulders eases a bit as he wraps his hands around the warm mug. Junhyung watches him constantly, but he's used to that by now.
"I'm going to be honest here- I can't tell you who it is yet." Junhyung's eyebrows raise, but he doesn't interrupt. "I plan to take full responsibility for this. I can't tell you when, but it'll be handled."
"Very vague," Junhyung replies, not necessarily displeased. Most of the time Doojoon honestly has no idea what Junhyung is thinking or feeling. "I do trust that you'll take care of everything. But I can't help but be curious." He removes his sunglasses- a rare move- and Doojoon is surprised by the brightness in Junhyung's eyes, brimming with something like excitement. "Why?"
"Why what? Now you're the one being vague." Doojoon smiles to himself. He relishes the rare moments he can think of a comeback to Junhyung, but to his disappointment, Junhyung appears to ignore him this time.
"I've introduced you to dozens of people, Doojoon," he says, voice low. "You wanted a wife, I gave you Gayoon. You wanted mistresses, I gave you mistresses. You wanted Yoseob, and once again, I gave him to you. But why-" He leans forward, as if getting closer to Doojoon's face would help him uncover a secret hiding in Doojoon's tired eyes. "Why him?"
"Like you said, I wanted him." He meets Junhyung's intent gaze, flinching as he resists the urge to look away.
"You let the others go, though. You always told me, 'Don't worry, this is temporary.' The only reason I let all of those girls get hurt was because I knew you'd leave them in a better situation than when you met them. You took care of them for me. Gayoon didn't seem to mind, either." He chuckles to himself. "Poor Gayoon, though I guess she is better off than the rest. At least you married her."
"She's an incredible woman." He tries to to force himself to smile, but fails and isn't sure what expression ends up on his face instead. "I know I've hurt her quite a bit, but I've never believed in loving only one person for my entire life."
"You still haven't answered my question, Doojoon," Junhyung says, drinking the last of his coffee and standing up. "But I suppose the answer isn't all that important."
They speak to several administrators and a nurse, and Doojoon is added to a few lists. Junhyung's strange position of guardianship isn't questioned, but it's rare that anyone questions Junhyung upon meeting him. The head nurse informs Doojoon that Yoseob should be awake, and he may visit as often as he likes. His palms are sweaty when he reaches the door, number 502, with a tiny placard that reads, "Yang Yoseob."
He's propped up on pillows the same color as the blankets pooled around his waist. His head is wrapped in clean bandages, his eyes are red, and his skin is ashen. The IV in his arms flaps against the hospital bed as he waves, smiling, but not really. Doojoon is tempted to run right back out the door, but Yoseob's tired eyes watch him calmly and hold him firmly in place.
"How are you?" is the first thing he can think to say. Something darkens in Yoseob's expression, and he doesn't answer. It takes Doojoon a good five minutes to understand. "Oh." Yoseob chuckles, albeit weakly, and motions for Doojoon to sit down on the end of the bed.
"Use that," he says, voice slightly too loud. On a small table next to the bed is a dry-erase board complete with marker. Doojoon grinds his teeth as he reaches for it, and his apprehension must show in his expression because Yoseob laughs again. "They're going to work with me on lip-reading, so it's not forever." But then, Doojoon wonders, what will be forever? He takes the board and carefully writes out his earlier question, earning him another half-hearted smile. "I'm good."
Doojoon erases the first message and writes a new one. You sure?
"Yes, I promise."
Doojoon frowns. Liar.
"I'm good, Doojoon." He can tell Yoseob is trying to be firm, but his voice wavers slightly at the end. Doojoon wonders if Yoseob notices, if he's able to notice. He lets the subject drop for now.
Is there anything you need? Yoseob's tired eyes meet Doojoon's over the board, all humor gone from them. He sighs and leans back into his pillows, staring at the ceiling.
"Why are you here, Doojoon? Go home." Doojoon's starts to say something, a rambling set of "um, but, I," but Yoseob continues, not being able to hear him. "I don't want you feeling responsible for this. I know it's not your fault, so just go."
For several minutes, they stay like that, frozen. Doojoon doesn't dare move from his spot on the bed, and Yoseob refuses to look down from the ceiling. Finally, Doojoon uncaps the marker, writing the only thing that comes to mind. He hovers it over Yoseob's turned-up face:
I don't want to leave. Nothing in Yoseob's expression changes. He grabs the board, yanks it out of Doojoon's hands and throws it across the room. It clatters to the floor, a bit of the plastic border snapping off.
"I said get out," Yoseob says in a low whisper, and this time Doojoon listens, because there's a nurse walking through the door with a very displeased look on her face. He nods at her as he leaves the room, and says something to Kikwang and Dongwoon as he passes, which he hopes sounds like, "Watch him for me."
At the doctor's suggestion, Doojoon stays away from the hospital. He calls Dongwoon and Kikwang every few hours to check in, but the updates are always the same. "He just had another check-up." "He made us bring him a CD player." "The nurse says his other injuries are healing well." "He doesn't really like talking."
Junhyung also avoids the hospital, instead choosing to call Doojoon once a day to check on both the status of Yoseob and the investigation into the cause of the accident. His focus is usually on the latter. Three days after the accident, Doojoon can sense Junhyung's mounting impatience.
"If you know who it is, why don't you do something?" Junhyung's tone is deceptively calm, but Doojoon knows he's being put under pressure.
"It's not that easy, Junhyung."
"Why not?"
He rubs his forehead, his sleep-deprived eyes. "It's gotten complicated. There's no other way to put it."
A sigh. "I don't give a shit about complicated, Doojoon, I just want something done."
Exhausted, Doojoon gives in. "What would you have me do?"
A pleasant laugh. "Well, considering their intent was to kill Yoseob, why not return the favor?"
Doojoon shudders, smiling to himself but masking his voice to sound solemn, unsure. "If that's what you want."
A week has gone by since his visit with Yoseob, and Doojoon can't seem to focus. Hyunseung enters his office at quarter past three, setting a velvet box on his boss' desk in a silent reminder. A nod, and Doojoon picks up the phone.
"Tell Gayoon I'll be home for dinner tonight," he says to his wife's secretary. "Though I'm sure she won't believe me, I didn't forget her birthday this year."
The table is set when he arrives home with the red tablecloth and crystal stemware and silver candlestick holders. Classic glamor, the style Gayoon loves so much. She enters the room in her pumps and designer pantsuit, and Doojoon just smiles, taking a moment to stare before going to greet her. She gives him the smallest of smiles in return and allows him to peck her on the cheek before pulling out her chair for her. As he takes his seat across the table, he can feel her watching him suspiciously.
"Surprised?" he asks and motions for their servant to bring in their dinner. When the wine is poured, he raises his glass in a toast. She raises her as well with a somewhat brighter smile. "May I never forget your birthday ever again."
"Somehow I doubt that," she replies, but takes a sip. The servants bring out their plates, but instead of eating Doojoon continues to watch Gayoon. If she notices, she doesn't show it.
"I'm afraid I may have to disappoint you again," he sighs after several minutes. She doesn't look up from her meal.
"I learned a long time ago to expect disappointment."
"I can't stay home tonight, even though it's your birthday. I need to leave as soon as we finish eating."
She pauses, fork in the air, and looks at him curiously. "May I ask why?" There's a glint in her eye, which Doojoon's never seen before. It makes his stomach churn in an unusual mix of anxiety and excitement.
"A friend of mine is in the hospital," he replies and waits calmly, hands folded in front of his face to hide his smirk.
The chair creaks as Gayoon shifts forward slightly, leaning in. "What happened?" she asks, voice dripping with concern.
"A car accident. He almost died."
Her eyes widen. She sets down her fork. "My god."
"I know, and do you want to know something interesting?" he asks and lowers his voice, as if telling a story to a child. She leans in more and rests her chin on her hands with an amused smile. "I don't think it was an accident." Jaw drops, she gasps. "It's horrible! I even think it was someone with connections to my company."
"That's horrible," she whispers and her eyes fill with tears. He chuckles, reaching out to wipe a tear away as it escapes down her cheek.
"I can't remember that last time I saw you cry," Doojoon muses, and she pulls back with an insulted expression. "But anyway, he's lost his hearing and is having a rough time. I need to get back as soon as possible."
Though the food has already gone cold, she returns to picking at her plate. "Is that where you've been the last week?" she asks. He nods, and though she isn't looking up and doesn't respond, he knows she sees it.
"I may have to disappoint you yet again, Gayoon," he says. She laughs bitterly, but doesn't respond, so he continues. "I've been having an affair with him."
"You've had countless affairs," she replies all too quickly, her fork scraping against the plate painfully.
"Yes, but he's special."
"Everyone is special to you."
"Gayoon, I-" he begins, exasperated, but she cuts him off by slamming her knife and fork down on the table.
"Just stop," she says, voice almost pleading. "I know what you're going to say, so there's no need to say it. I've been married to you for five years, Doojoon, and for not a single one have you been loyal to me. But not once have I ever minded or objected, because I was and will always be grateful to you. If I hadn't met you, I'd still be in jail."
"You looked so cute in the uniform," he jokes, catching her off-guard, and a faint blush creeps across her face. "It took a lot of money to bail out a criminal charged with hacking into and stealing from that many banks."
"Like I said, I'm grateful." A frustrated sigh, she crosses her arms. "And that's why I didn't mind, because I knew you would help them, just like you helped me, but I don't like it, Doojoon."
"What?" This time it's Doojoon who leans in closer as he mumbles his question, and she instinctively pulls back in her seat.
"That look you have. That you've had for the past month. I don't like it. It's as if you've found something worth keeping."
"'Something worth keeping,'" he repeats, testing the feel of the phrase in his mouth with an amused smile on his face.
"Yes," she says, voice weak. "It's how you looked at me back when we first met."
For a split second he wishes he could say something reassuring, though he knows he can't. Instead, he reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out the velvet box, getting to his feet and crossing to her side of the table. He opens it where she can see the necklace, sparkling in the dim light of the candles with its countless diamonds. She gasps and words fail her as he takes it out of the box and clasps it around her neck.
He kisses the curve of her neck before mumbling in her ear, "I'm sorry, but I need to go." She grabs at his arm, but misses. Reluctantly, he looks back at her strained, desperate face. Tears run downs her cheek, smearing her perfect make-up, and he wipes a few away with his thumb. "You really were something worth keeping," he sighs so quietly he's not sure she hears it.
"Is that damn delivery boy so important?" she sobs, composure crumbling. He pauses, turns and allows the smile he's been holding back all evening to surface. Something inside him breaks, and yet he's glad.
"Gayoon," he chuckles. "I never said he was a delivery boy." With that, he strides from the room. He ignores her as she calls his name, falling to the floor and crying.
The blood is pounding in his ears when Doojoon sinks into the leather seat of his car and sweat pours down the back of his neck. The thrill leaves him, numb and hands shaking as they reach to grip the wheel. The cars starts and he hits the speed dial on his phone. The dull ring over the speaker phone helps him focus as he pulls onto the road.
"Junhyung," he says as soon as the line picks up. "It's settled. Are you sure you want to go through with it?"
A pause, then a sigh mixed with static. "Stop asking dumb questions and do it," Junhyung's tired voice mutters. The hair on the back of Doojoon's neck stands on end and he laughs nervously. The line disconnects.
Doojoon's phone beeps the second he steps out of the car, motioning for Hyunseung to go park the car while he heads inside the hospital. A text for Kikwang, short but not necessarily sweet:
No progress. With the doctors. Wait in the room.
He looks up, and across the street Dongwoon waves to him in the front window of the cafe. Kikwang's back is visible, but he doesn't turn to see Doojoon. Not that Doojoon expects him to, because Kikwang hasn't spoken to him since the accident and he surely isn't going to tonight, when Dongwoon is about to slip out of the cafe the second Doojoon is inside the hospital. Kikwang would never approve of their plan. Doojoon knows he'll have to rely on Dongwoon to calm him down later, that is, as long as everything went smoothly. If not...
Forcing the thought from his mind, he steps through the automatic doors and up to the front desk.
A nurse kindly escorts Doojoon to the room and leaves him in front of the door. She asks him to wait outside until "the patient" has returned. He nods his agreement and takes a seat on the bench with fidgeting hands. After countless watch-checks and sighs, a squeak down the hall sends him turning in his seat so quickly he almost slips off. The nurse motions him to be quiet, gently rolling Yoseob, who slumps with closed eyes in the wheelchair, into the dark room. Doojoon follows and flips the light-switch when the nurse directs him to with her eyes. While she helps Yoseob shift back up into his bed, Doojoon settles into in the hard, plastic chair
With a smile at the nurse, Yoseob wordlessly sinks into the pillows behind his head. If he notices Doojoon, he doesn't show it. The nurse leaves, giving Doojoon a pat on the shoulder and mouthing "He'll be okay." Doojoon almost wants to laugh at that, but then again, he doesn't really expect her to remember the condition of each of her patients.
His stomach turns as the door clicks shut. "Doojoon." He turns, Yoseob stares, then makes a vague waving motion. "Grab the board and get over here," Yoseob sighs, voice hoarse. Doojoon grabs the whiteboard off the nightstand and sits at the very end of the bed, wincing when his weight shifts the mattress. Yoseob smiles. "Relax, it's not like I'm dying here."
Doojoon sets the board on his lap and scribbles for a second. How have you been? Yoseob's eyes drift over the words, then away.
"Hey, could you turn that on?" he says, ignoring the question. He points to the side, to a small CD player set up on the stand. Doojoon hesitates, but Yoseob keeps pointing, eyes on the wall. As Doojoon presses the button, a burst of static followed by pounding rock music makes him jump and fumbles for the volume button. Yoseob laughs, raising his arms as if stretching. "Sorry, I was messing around with it earlier." After flipping through the few CDs piled next to the device, Doojoon chooses one that looks familiar and switches it out for the offending rock, which he's fairly certain doesn't even belong to Yoseob. Not his style. He returns to his seat on the bed, relaxing as the first, familiar chords play from the speakers. He picked the right one. He glances at Yoseob, wonders if he remembers it, too, but Yoseob's just staring at Doojoon. He looks away, face heating up, and he can't believe he forgot again.
"What'd you pick?" Yoseob asks, voice quiet and distant. "I can't hear it." Doojoon opens his mouth to apologize, then closes it, his panic worsening. Yoseob stops him when he starts to write something on the board. "Don't bother, Doojoon. It's okay."
Silence, except for the quiet, soulful music from the CD player.
"You know what's the weirdest part?" Yoseob asks after a moment, reaching to the side awkwardly to pick up the small player. He doesn't wait or look up to see if Doojoon is listening, but stares intently at it with curious eyes. "When you mute something, or turn the volume down, you know that the sound just isn't there. If you want it back, you press a button or turn a knob. If that doesn't work, something's wrong. Broken." He turns the volume knob, the music immediately blasting from the speakers and making Doojoon wince. Yoseob's expression doesn't change. "But now, I know it's there. I can tell, because you're reacting to it." He turns the knob again, making the volume so low even Doojoon can't hear it. "But it's not there for me. It's somewhere beyond me now." He meets Doojoon's gaze with a strange smile.
"It's like I'm in a different dimension or something. Not just music. People, too. You all talk, but what you say is beyond me. I'm completely cut off from everyone." He lets his eyes fall, sniffing and rubbing the tears in his eyes away with his sleeve. He swats away Doojoon's hand when he reaches out for his face.
Doojoon leans over, putting his hands over Yoseob's on the CD player. Surprisingly, Yoseob lets him, and Doojoon takes the opportunity to look more closely at Yoseob's face while he stares at the device in his lap. The bandages around Yoseob's head are now a single strip, probably there only to cover the stitches. Doojoon's breath catches- stitches, he hadn't thought about that. Stitches, which would mean scars. Would his hair grow back over the scars? He'd have to ask the doctor.
He blinks, refocuses on Yoseob's face. Not that Yoseob's hair mattered. Yoseob slips his hands out from under Doojoon's, leaning back against his pillows. Worried that he'll stare, Doojoon fiddles with the knobs on the device. If only the brain worked like a CD player, with switches to flip and buttons to press to change the settings. His fingers slide over the bass knob, the heavy throb in his hands like an erratic heartbeat. Then it hits him, like that cliche, a lightning bolt straight to the brain. Turning the volume up, then the bass, he sets the player on the bed before grabbing Yoseob's hands, holding them against its sides.
When he lets go, Yoseob tries to as well, but he forces Yoseob's back around with a firm shake of his head. Yoseob watches Doojoon, tired and confused, but complying, as he scrambles for the board and marker. It takes him four attempts, searching for the right word. Making sure Yoseob's hands are still on the player, he flips the board around.
Vibrations. Yoseob looks at the board, then at Doojoon, then back at the board, his mouth hanging open slightly. Doojoon sets the board down, puts his hands over Yoseob's and presses them against the player. Then he picks the board back up and points at the word. For some reason, he's panting, and his heart pounds as if he's just run a mile. A smile bursts out on his face when Yoseob eyes the player in his hands, and he nods when Yoseob looks back up at him. A quick swipe with his sleeve to remove the word, then he scribbles more on the board.
Can you feel it?
"Of course I can," Yoseob says impatiently. "But-" Doojoon silences him by raising his hand. Another swipe of his sleeve, more scribbles.
It's there! You have it! He points the marker frantically at the player, but Yoseob just squints at him, obviously questioning Doojoon's sanity. More scribbles.
The music! All he gets is an incredulous raise of the eyebrow. With a roll of his eyes, he picks back up the board and writes. When he finishes, he hesitates before flipping around the board.
It's still there.
You can't hear it, but you can feel it.
Something appears to click in Yoseob's epxression this time as he goes from reading the words to staring at the object in his hand. Doojoon sets the board to the side and puts his hands over Yoseob's again. The pounding bass is starting to make his ears throb, but he ignores it. Gently, he removes Yoseob's hands, and holds the speaker up to the side of Yoseob's face. An almost sheepish grins spreads across Yoseob's face, eyes brimming with tears, and he chuckles.
"Not exactly like hearing it, but I get your point." Yoseob moves to lean back, but Doojoon puts a hand on his shoulder, holding Yoseob still while he sets the player to the side. Smiling, he points to Yoseob's eyes, slowly blinking his own in a wordless command. Yoseob frowns and tries to move away, but Doojoon shakes his hand and mouths, slowly and carefully, "Trust me." After one more suspicious glare, Yoseob's eyes close. He puts his hand's on Yoseob's shoulders and pulls him forward, meeting a little resistance at first when Yoseob tenses, but Doojoon laughs, pulls slightly harder and Yoseob topples into his chest. Yoseob looks up, angry, but Doojoon rolls his eyes and motions for Yoseob to close his eyes again, wrapping his arms around Yoseob's shoulders. Once Yoseob settles, and Doojoon makes sure his head is in the proper place, he takes a deep breath. And hums.
At first, he hums nothing at all, and he feels self-conscience and wonders if maybe he should stop. In his arms, Yoseob tenses again, his hands awkwardly hovering near Doojoon's sides. He gains a bit more confidence as Yoseob starts to relax, and starts humming the song he'd heard on the CD player earlier. He feels a warm and wet sensation against his chest, and Yoseob's shoulders start to shake, and his hands tighten their grip, twisting in Doojoon's cotton shirt. Doojoon tightens his hold around Yoseob's shoulders and keeps humming until finally Yoseob pulls away, not bothering to wipe his face.
He doesn't look at Doojoon, instead focusing his puffy eyes on Doojoon's now tear-stained dress-shirt. "I was only with you for the money," he mumbles, and it takes Doojoon a moment to figure out what he'd said. Yoseob's eyes flicker up to Doojoon's, then back down, reading something into Doojoon's blank expression. "Junhyung told me, if I went along with it, you'd help me," he continues, speech quickening as he starts to panic. "I thought I'd just have to like meet you or something, and he didn't tell me why, and then you helped me and I thought I should-"
At this point, Doojoon is laughing, and when he realizes that Yoseob hasn't noticed, he reaches out and pulls him into a tight hug. Yoseob continues to babble against his shoulder, body quaking as he sobs. They stay like that, both shaking for different reasons, with Doojoon's hand gently rubbing the back of Yoseob's head where there are no bandages. Then, catching Doojoon off-guard, Yoseob pulls away and grabs the him by the neck. Doojoon tries to say something, but whatever it is gets muffled by Yoseob's lips as their mouths meet in a failure of a kiss. Doojoon laughs against Yoseob's mouth, causing the other to frown, embarrassed, and try to back away, only to be pulled back in for a second try. He kisses Yoseob lightly, rubbing his back through the material of his hospital gown.
It takes Yoseob a moment to react, but then his arms wrap around Doojoon's neck, forcing him closer and deepening the kiss. Reeling, Doojoon's mind slips back to their first and only kiss before the accident. In a garage, this very song playing on a cheap radio in the back, with Yoseob pressed up against a stack of tires and grease smeared across his face. His chest had been heaving when he'd shoved Doojoon away, mumbling something about needing to work and having so much debt. Doojoon had smiled, then handed him an envelope with the amount Junhyung had told him. With that, he'd left, after making Yoseob promise to call him later, though Doojoon knew he would anyway.
That had been it; the worse of their great affair.
Doojoon is first to pull away, silencing Yoseob's protests with a shake of his head and wiping his face as clean as he can with his sleeve. He gets Yoseob to lie down, then steps out and says a few words to the nurse. By the time he returns, Yoseob is fast asleep, so he sinks into the guest chair and lets himself do the same.
The key rattles in the lock as Doojoon fumbles, trying to balance all three bags while opening the door and failing miserably. Yoseob grabs one of them and shoots Doojoon a dirty glare when he tries to protest. With a sheepish smile, he finally succeeds in unlocking and opening the door. Despite Doojoon's encouraging, Yoseob hesitates outside.
"You sure it's okay? What about your wife?" Doojoon smiles and shakes his head. He drops the bags on the floor and grabs Yoseob's arm. He's tired of repeating the same story, writing it down over and over again to convince Yoseob: Gayoon is staying with her friends for the weekend because it's her birthday, just as she does every year. Yoseob doesn't believe it, but for once Doojoon isn't completely lying.
After settling Yoseob down onto the couch, Doojoon rushes to the kitchen for drinks. He sighs as he sinks into the soft cushions next to Yoseob, looking forward to sleeping in a bed for the first time in a week.
"It's really okay," he says after making sure Yoseob is looking at him. They'd been practicing all week, and Yoseob's skill at lip-reading was very slowly improving.
"It feels wrong," Yoseob mumbles and takes a sip of water.
Doojoon rolls his eyes and fishes out the board, to make things easier. You're the one who said he wanted to leave the hospital.
"And you're the one who forced me to come home with you!"
Doojoon raises an eyebrow. Forced? Yoseob's eyes shift away, and Doojoon chuckles. The truth was the there wasn't anyone living with Yoseob, so the doctors had insisted he stay with a friend for a while after leaving the hospital. Since Doojoon had been staying with Yoseob the past week, the doctors had recommended him, and Yoseob had begrudgingly agreed.
He takes the glass out of Yoseob's hand and sets it on the coffee table before pulling Yoseob to him by the waist. Doojoon rests his chin on the smaller man's shoulder, groaning in annoyance when the phone starts to ring. He chooses to ignore it and buries his face in Yoseob's neck, tightening his hold when Yoseob starts to struggle.
"Cut it out," he grumbles, elbowing Doojoon in the ribs hard enough to hurt, but not too much. When he lets his arms fall, Yoseob leans back against him. "This is so weird," he sighs.
But Doojoon doesn't hear him, because the answering machine picks up and a male voice echoes across the quiet living room:
"Yoon-sshi, we've been trying to contact you. This is the Seoul Police Department. Three days ago your wife was involved in a car accident and died. A truck hit her car, sending it rolling off the road. We're still in pursuit of the the truck and its owner. Please call us back so we can schedule you to come in and provide an official identification of the body."
Yoseob twists around, and Doojoon realizes he hasn't been breathing. "Are you okay? What's wrong" Yoseob asks. Doojoon nods, lets out the breath he's been holding, smiles. That seems to placate Yoseob, so he wraps his arms back around, hugging him close. He presses his face against Yoseob's back and begins to laugh, the sound crescendoing, bouncing off the walls of the empty mansion. Yoseob tenses in his arms, but doesn't speak, and Doojoon is grateful. His stomach turns, a wave of nausea hitting him, followed by a feeling of complete relief. He knows he needs to make some calls, make sure Dongwoon is okay, verify the details, but all he can do is hold Yoseob and laugh until he's crying against Yoseob's t-shirt.
And then a thought hits him, the first genuinely amusing thought he's had, that ironically stops his laughter. He wonders what Junhyung will say when he finds out he'd ordered the death of his own sister.