Age -- parts 1-4

[the_night_thief]

Title: Age
Author: the_night_thief
Pairings: EunHae, implied!KyuMin, HanChul, ninja!YeWook, one-sided!ZhouRy, messy-love-triangle!KyuMiMin, implied-ish!KangTeuk, implied!WonTeuk, implied!KiHae
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst, Drama, Romance.
Warning: This is fanficiton and therefore may not follow every single event known to the career of Super Junior.
Disclaimer: The boys all own themselves, Hyukjae and Donghae own each other, and SME...kinda owns them, too. But ELFs own a bunch of SME stock, so... Yeah. *grins* I don’t own them, obviously. I just like to screw around in their lives.
Summary: "Age is strictly a case of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter." Jack Benny; Satchel Paige

Author's Note: Age is a grand totaly of 36 pages. It was also too big for DeviantArt. ^^ It's in two parts both here and there. In any case, I started this over a month and a half ago. Shortly before finals week, actually. I expected 10 pages, maximum. Getting 36 out of a tiny ideas really just astounds me. And the feedback I've gotten so far, just for itty bitty pieces (save for my beta, Sound, who is amazing), really makes me smile.
I do have reasons as to why I picked each age and put it to that specific point in SuJu's career, but I don't think I need to list them here. If you really want to know, however, feel free to ask via comment or note. :3

***

Age is strictly a case of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter.

Hyukjae can’t remember where, exactly, he heard that saying for the first time, but when he does look back and reflect on the somewhat-not-quite-very wise words, a train of thought chugs away, leading him to a path that brings him to Donghae. Donghae, the lanky trainee who taught Hyukjae that dancing was born out of passion. Donghae, the laughable brat with the fishy name. Donghae, his band mate. Donghae, his best friend. Donghae, his perhaps-maybe-possibly everything.

To Donghae, age is irrelevant. Implausible. Improbable. Impossible. Inconceivable.

Sometimes, Donghae is a young child, one who must be no more than four or five years of age, a child of temper tantrums and a selfish immaturity that surpasses even the youngest and most childish of the members. But with that young and babyish side comes the better things; infectious laughter and sunshine smiles and a burning desire to wonder and ask and know. The answers to his questions are not always the ones that Donghae wishes to hear, and the information gained through such inquiries is often painful, but Donghae never falters after such news, and he stores the new-found knowledge away with a patience that surprises them all. Then he turns to someone else and asks again, the desire, the need, the hunger for intelligence burning bright and endless in depthless brown eyes.

***

"Hyukkie?"

Donghae is lying eagle-spread on his back, face turned toward the ceiling, fingers tap, tap, tapping a muffled beat against the sheets while he alternates between curling his toes and waggling his feet back and forth in an improvised rhythm. He does not speak again, instead waiting for Hyukjae to acknowledge his presence and question with the patience of a young child, humming a tuneless, beatless song as he waits.

Hyukjae had gotten back from Kiss The Radio with Eeteuk and had wandered into his room, tired but not ready to pass out, only to see Donghae sprawled bonelessly across his bed. It was probably a good thing that Hyukjae was as wired as he happened to be, because if he didn’t have this extra energy to expend, then Donghae would be in a world of trouble. So instead of taking over the bed, much like Hyukjae wished he could have done, he had perched in the chair by the desk and waited for the inevitable questions.

When Donghae finally does speak, Hyukjae glances over at him then, a brow arched in a silent inquiry that Donghae, regressed as he is, does not recognize. Shaking his head, Hyukjae clears his throat with a gentle cough and replies, "Yes, Hae?"

Donghae looks like child that has chosen to dress up in his father’s clothing; he is wearing a shirt that must be three times too big, a shirt that is only half-buttoned and is crooked due to being one button off, a pair of dress pants whose crotch appears to reach his knees, a bright, brilliant, almost-flourescent red-orange-yellow-green-blue-indigo-violet tie that was, once-upon-a-time, neat and orderly and now dangles from a loose knot just below his breast bone. He’s only wearing one sock, the other stuck in the shoe he’d kicked off at the door. The second shoe lay on its side on the rug between the two beds, tongue lolling out like a dog’s would after a particularly harsh run.

He turns his head, gaze tearing away from the ceiling with a sound that Hyukjae can almost hear. "Why?"

For the first time in a long time, Hyukjae doesn’t understand. He’s usually on top of Donghae’s questions, especially when it comes to moments like this when Donghae says something and is beyond the point of being vague. So instead of answering and giving the wrong answer, because the answer will be wrong no matter how Hyukjae replies, his luck is simply terrible like that, he waits. Hyukjae waits for Donghae to reiterate his question, to specify why what?

"Why did dad leave me?"

Hyukjae’s breath catches in his throat, sharp and bitter and oh-so painful, and for a moment he feels nauseous enough to vomit up what little he’d eaten that day for dinner. Then that moment of bile rising in his throat is gone, and Hyukjae can breathe again. Not that it’s any easier than it was before.

"What do you mean, why did he leave you?"

Donghae stops humming, tapping, curling his toes, blinking, breathing. He stares at Hyukjae, face devoid of emotion. "I mean, why did he leave me? Why’d he leave mom an’ me an’ Dongwha? Doesn’t he love us?"

And Hyukjae’s heart just stops.

How in the world is he supposed to answer a question like that?

It takes Hyukjae a long moment to gather his thoughts and words into something that can even be considered a semblance of coherence, and even then,with Donghae watching him with those large brown eyes, the eyes of a child, of an animal caught in the slaugher house, wide and all-knowing, Hyukjae nearly loses his nerve.

Swallowing down the bile that has once more begun to rise in his throat, Hyukjae murmurs, "But he does love you, Donghae. How could you ask something like that?"

But Donghae doesn’t look scaldalized by the question. He merely blinks, a slow, measured blink, and tilts his head in Hyukjae’s direction, looking for all the world as if he doesn’t understand.

Hyukjae sighs and stands, moving over to the bed where he sits down and pats his lap. Donghae shoots upright and drags himself over, dropping down in Hyukjae’s lap where he immediately nuzzles into the other’s side, thin arms snug around his friend’s waist. But Hyukjae doesn’t mind; he only wishes there was something more he could do, something better to say that would satisfy Dongae’s questions without hurting the younger male.

But there’s not, and there never wll be, so Hyukjae must decide what he thinks is the best thing. For the second time in as many minutes, Hyukjae reaches out for his thoughts and the words he knows he must say. As he does so, he runs his fingers through Donghae’s blonde and brown hair, untangling the knots as he comes across them. Donghae relaxes into him with a quiet, whimpering sigh that all but yanks at Hyukjae’s heartstrings.

"You see, Donghae," at first his words are timid, hesitant, but they grow in strength as Hyukjae continues on, "your dad, he loved you. He loved you and Donghwa and your mom so very much, but sometimes people have to do things that they don’t want to do. He didn’t want to go, but he knew that he had to." Hyukjae brushes several longer strands behind Donghae’s ears, lips pressing into a thin line when Donghae shakes his head in disbelief.

"But we didn’t want him to go, Hyukkie. I didn’t want him to go. Why did he have to leave us?"

"Because he was sick, Donghae," Hyukjae replies, voice hushed. "He was very sick, and he didn’t think he could get better."

Donghae twists in Hyukjae’s lap, messing up the hair that his friend has just detangled and smoothed out. "Then why didn’t he go to the doctor for medicine to get better?"

And Hyukjae wants to turn away and cry, because he doesn’t understand how the normal Donghae knows, and this one doesn’t. It takes a long moment to regain his composure before Hyukjae can continue. "Because sometimes medicine just isn’t enough. Sometimes a person is so sick that they can’t get better again."

"But why didn’t he try? Why did he let go?" And then Donghae looks up, eyes full of tears, lower lip quivering and voice hushed. "Did he not love us enough to even try?"

"Donghae, Donghae, Donghae." The name is a litany, whispered and murmured, tumbling over and over, and over again from between dry, chapped lips as Hyukjae hoists Donghae into a sitting position, hugging him close and holding him tight. The rapid heartbeat against Hyukjae’s chest, the minute shaking of Donghae’s shoulders, it all serves as a reminder to Hyukjae that this Donghae is not as strong. This Donghae is fragile and is waiting for his heart to be shattered.

"Did he not love us, Hyukkie? I know I’ve been a bad kid, and I know that I’ve not listened to mom and Donghwa when I should have, and I’ve eaten cookies before meals before, and I’ve done so many bad things when mom and dad told me not to. Is that why dad didn’t want to come back?"

Hyukjae wishes he could stop Donghae’s words, but he doesn’t know how. It’s never been this bad before; Donghae has never regressed quite this far. In the past, Donghae has forgotten his own name, forgotten where he was staying, cried for his mother and older brother and, on occasion, his father in the middle of the night during fits of nightmares that Hyukjae doesn’t want to imagine. But never, never has Donghae forgotten the knowledge of his father’s fight with cancer and the resulting death.

But it’s better, Hyukjae thinks, that Donghae should forget his father’s death rather than forget he had a father to begin with.

"Donghae," Hyukjae sooths, brushing his lips and nose along the shell of Donghae’s ear, hand rubbing circles on the younger male’s back. "Sometimes when you love someone very much, you have to let them go so that they can do the things they were meant to do." Another thought occurs to Hyukjae then, and he pulls Dounghae away and out of his grasp, looking the other straight in the eyes. "You know how your dad always to you how important it was to share, right?" A nod. "And how he always said that not everyone was as fortunate as you are?" A second nod, accompanied by a sniffle. Hyukjae smiles, leaning down to rest his forehead against Donghae’s. "Donghae, your father went to heaven so he could be a father to someone who needed a father as much as you did."

The all-encompassing and mysterious "heaven" sends Donghae into an uneasy silence. He presses closer, burying his face against Hyukjae’s chest, runny nose pressing against the thin fabric of Hyukjae’s shirt, no doubt smearing snot everywhere. But Hyukjae doesn’t mind; he hugs Donghae close, resumes rubbing the circles, and waits, as he always does, for Donghae’s next question.

An unfathomable moment passes, a long, endless expanse of time with Donghae pressed against Hyukjae, fingers clutching the older male’s shirt as if it were a life line. Then, muffled and hardly audible through the layers of clothing and fabric, comes, "Hyukkie?" Donghae pulls away, fingers still grappling for a hold on Hyukjae’s shirt. His face is comically serious, eyebrows knit together in an expression that Hyukjae wants to crack a grin at, but doesn’t. "Does that mean I have to let you go, too? Do I have to let you go so you can be someone else’s best friend?"

And Hyukjae smiles, because this is a question he actually knows the answer to. "Never, Donghae. I’m your best friend, and I’m yours alone."

***

Sometimes though, Donghae is older. Younger than he should be, but still older than he could be. He’s thirteen, perhaps fourteen. He is all protruding bones and lanky limbs, an appetite that even Shindong cannot match, and awkward questions that no one, not even Hyukjae, wants to listen to or answer. He is still sunshine on the darkest of days, unending smiles, and bright, cheerful laughter, but he’s older now, more mature than he once was, and for that Hyukjae is thankful.

Sometimes.

Because sometimes Donghae asks another one of those questions that Hyukjae doesn’t have a good answer for. And it’s not like Hyukjae can just send Donghae in Eeteuk’s or Kangin’s direction. Their umma and appa are the people to go to for most everything...except Donghae’s questions.

***

Donghae has been silent all evening.

It’s the kind of silence that Hyukjae has come to understand means there’s something on his friend’s mind. But because they’re with their friends, their extended family, Hyukjae can only note the other’s actions and hope to remember to bring them up after dinner.

The next twenty minutes are spent in a silence that is only broken when Sungmin reaches across the table for the pepper shaker. Kyuhyun grabs it before him and, smirking faintly at the annoyance crossing Sungmin’s face, proceeds to slowly add the spice to his own food. Hyukjae doesn’t bother watching, however. He knows how this play goes, and while it was cute and almost funny the first time, he wishes Sungmin would get the hint already and fuck Kyuhyun. Or vice versa, whichever worked best for the two of them.

Hyukjae excuses himself from the table earlier than normal, having finished his plate and not really hungry enough for seconds, especially if he has to watch KyuMin and their tangible sexual tension while he’s at it. A few moments later, plate still almost full, Donghae discreetly slides away from the table and offers his food to Shindong who takes it without hesitation. Hyukjae frowns but doesn’t comment.

They walk in tandem to Hyukjae’s bedroom where, after Hyukjae opens the door, the settle into an uneasy silence.

Donghae, like always, sprawls bonelessly across the bed, lying with an ease that Hyukjae almost envies. Hyukjae, of course, perches in the chair by the desk even though he knows that by the end of the conversation he’ll be on the bed as well. Perhaps Donghae will be flopped across his lap by then, but perhaps not. After all, while some things change, some never do.

"Hyukjae?"

Of course, it is always Donghae that breaks the silence. Hyukjae has never expected any less, especially from Donghae, but while he expected his name to be the first word of the conversation (because it is, it always is), he didn’t expect the hesitation or confusion to accompany it.

"Yes, Donghae."

Donghae glances at him, fingers tapping an unsteady rhythm against the wall. "Hyukjae, how do you know when you’re in love?"

In all of Hyukjae’s time as Donghae’s best friend, he’s never heard this question, or anything even remotely similar, come out of Donghae’s mouth. So it takes him a moment to gather his throughts from where Donghae had just tossed them. "Love?"

"Yeah, love." Donghae is tracing unknown patterns with his eyes against the off-white of the ceiling, fingers tapping a smoother tattoo on the wall. And perhaps, if Hyukjae could calm the sudden racing of his heart, or at least hear above it, Donghae might even be humming. For the first time in a long time, Donghae looks completely at ease.

Hyukjae wonders whether it was a comfort gained through the process of simply asking the question aloud for another to hear. Shrugging to himself, Hyukjae turns back the the question he’d been asked. "Well, I always thought being in love meant that you felt really passionately about a person. You’d do anything in your power to help them, even if that doesn’t always work out for the best."

"Oh." Donghae’s response is subdued, and there’s a frown on his face. "Okay, but how do you know if you’re actually in love with someone?"

Hyukjae flashes back to a conversation he’d had with his sister some years before when Hyukjae had first become a trainee. His older sister had promptly tugged him aside and proceeded to give him The Talk. Then she’d shoved a condom into his hands, the same condom that Hyukjae now kept hidden away in his wallet as a momento of home. And then, right before Sora had stalked off to go do what all teenaged girls did, Hyukjae had snagged her wrist and asked in a shaking voice (because what if something happened while he was a trainee, and he couldn’t go to his older sister for advice?):

"Sora-noona... How will I know I’m in love?"

Laughter. "Close your eyes...."

"Close your eyes." Only when Donghae complies does Hyukjae continue. "Imagine yourself right now. Are they by your side?"

"Well, yeah." There’s a note of exasperation to Donghae’s voice, and Hyukjae can’t help but grin.

"So imagine yourself...five years from now. Are they still by your side?"

"Yes," Donghae replies without hesitation.

"Ten years from now?"

"Ten years," Donghae confirms.

"What about fifteen?"

"Fifteen, too." Donghae opens his eyes, turning his head to watch Hyukjae, calm amusement etched across his features. "Hyukjae, they’re the only person I can see myself with. Ever."

"Then you’re in love," Hyukjae says with a slight shrug of his shoulders, grin frimly in place. "Whoever it is, she‘ll be happy to have you by her side. So," Hyukjae waves a hand with a laugh that Donghae doesn’t return,"who’s the lucky girl?"

Silence. Complete and utter.

Donghae stops moving, fingers frozen in midair, breath caught in his lungs. There is an emotion that Hyukjae cannot place -- grief, regret, sorrow, hurt -- that flashes across Donghae’s face, but then it is gone and Donghae is pulling himself upright. "There’s not."

Hyukjae blinks once, twice, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "What?"

Donghae doesn’t glance his way, blink, breathe; he doesn’t move a muscle save for his lips as he whispers, "I think I’m gay."

A blush spreads like wildfire across Hyukjae’s cheeks. "What?"

"I said..." There’s hesitance, then a faint smile blossoms onto Donghae’s face. Even though he understands that this could ruin their friendship forever, he’s being honest with himself and it makes him feel warm inside. Hyukjae can tell simply by the way Donghae straightens, his shoulders broadening. "I’m gay." Donghae is watching him again, brown eyes focused in on Hyukjae’s face, gaze flicking from the spreading, deepening blush, to his lips, to the blush again. Donghae smiles just a bit wider as he lays back down, fingers resuming their tap, tap, tapping.

"Oh," Hyukjae says, the single word speaking volumes. The empty space that follows is bursting at the seams with words that Hyukjae doesn’t know how to say, emotions that he doesn’t understand how to convey.

On the other side of the room, Donghae’s smile widens ever so slightly. "Do you mind?"

Hyukjae glances over to his friend.

Donghae does not look back and he doesn’t seem like a negative answer will phase him much at all (really, does anything ever?), but Hyukjae can see the faint tremor of tension in the hand that taps against the wall, and he knows that his answer will affect Donghae more than he’ll let on.

Heaving a sigh, Hyukjae stands and shuffles over to the edge of the bed where he collapses by Donghae’s side. He brings his legs up, tucking his feet beneath Donghae’s legs even as Donghae slings an arm around him.. The two are pressed together, so close that Hyukjae can hear Donghae’s heartbeat from where his head is laying against Donghae’s chest.

"I don’t mind," Hyukjae murmurs, voice muffled by the fabric of Donghae’s shirt.

Donghae, of course, smiles wide, and Hyukjae can see it ever from the angle he’s laying at. "Dork," he mumbles in reply to his friend’s girn.

They are silent for a long while, then Donghae sighs, burying his nose into Hyukjae’s hair. "I’m going to miss you, Hyukkie." And that is all that it takes for Hyukjae to remember that in a couple months, Donghae will be out with the rest of Super Junior M, their new sub group, running promotions for their album Me. The dorms will be so quiet and empty without them. The past several months, during the recording for Me, Hyukjae has become used to having two extra people in the dorms with them; they all have, he’s sure.

In a couple months, with Ryeowook and Hangeng gone, they’ll be eating ramen (or scavenging) every night. Sungmin will sulk the entire time without Kyuhyun to keep him occupied; even though the maknae is always messing around with his video games his presence in the dorms will still be missed. Heechul will, of course, be loud and obnoxious in protest of Hangeng’s absence (of course, he usually is anyway, so there’s nothing new there), and at the loss of his favorite protegee, Zhou Mi. Eeteuk will withdraw at the temporary loss of his family until they can establish a routine phone call, perhaps one that will take place every two or three days. And then the silence left behind after Donghae and Henry leave, what with Henry’s violin and the way the two of them are always laughing and talking well into the night--

A fist squeezes Hyukjae’s chest then, constricting the air in his throat and lungs. The thought hits him with the force of a freight train, and Hyukjae is sure that if he hadn’t already been sitting down, he’d be down on the floor asking for the license plate number of the vehicle that ran him over. It takes him a long moment to fight past the breathlessness to ask, "Is it Henry?"

A frown tugs at Donghae’s face, and he twists in place so he can glance down at Hyukjae. "What?"

"Henry," Hyukjae says, louder this time. "Do you like him?"

And then Donghae throws his head back, and he’s laughing, and laughing, and laughing, and just when he calms down enough to begin speaking coherently, he takes one look at Hyukjae and the laughter starts anew. Hyukjae’s beginning to feel the slightest bit miffed. Finally, eons later, Donghae smothers the last of his giggles and leans down to press a kiss to Hyukjae’s temple. He almost starts laughing again -- Hyukjae can tell the urge is lying there, silent but strong, right beneath the surface -- as he says, "No way, Hyukkie. Henry’s cute and all, but he’s more like my brother than anything else." There is a wistfulness in Donghae’s tone, and Hyukjae remembers the pranks Donghae and Henry had pulled on the himself and the others throughout the promotions for Don’t Don. Suddenly, Hyukjae no longer envies the sub-group’s members. "Besides, I think he’s got a thing for Zhou Mi." There is a flash of something across Donghae’s face, but then he’s smiling again, and Hyukjae decides it must have been his imagination.

Hyukjae nods in acceptance, the vise in his chest loosening with each passing second. Then, silence.

At least, it was silent until Donghae bit at his lower lip, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "So... You’re sure that--"

"I don’t mind," Hyukjae interrupts without pause, poking the younger male in the side with his index finger. "You’re you, Donghae; liking guys won’t change that."

"Good," Donghae says, exhaling in relief. He laughs quietly afterward, nuzzling against Hyukjae’s side. "Cause you’re mine, you know, and I don’t want to lose you."

Hyukjae doesn’t bother to correct him, or even question how Donghae has linked one to the other. Not only would it not do any good, but Hyukjae had promised months upon months ago that they belonged to each other. They are EunHae, after all.

So instead, Hyukjae buries his face against Donghae’s side to hide his smile. "I know. And you’re mine."

***

Of course, just like there are days when Donghae is nothing more than a child, or an individual bordering on those fabled teenage years, sometimes Donghae is bordering the line of adulthood. He’s a child, but older; an adult, but not quite yet. He’s like a child caught in an adult’s body, a child that wants mothing more than to laugh and joke and play, but an adult that knows there are things to do and people to see and choices that need to be made. Choice that, when filed down to their very core, are shown to a decision between two opposing factions: reason and responsibilty...or being true to one’s self.

And Donghae is only human. So sometimes, while he makes the right choice and conforms to society’s standards by being reasonable and responsible, by taking the safe road over the lesser-walked path that borders stupidity and immaturity, sometimes Donghae can’t help but fall back and be who he wants to be.

After all, Donghae is only human.

Sometimes humans need to break away from society’s standards in order to find who they are and, of course, who they want to be.

***

Hyukjae hums quietly to himself as he dumps the packet of dried vegetables in the pot of steaming water and ramen noodles. After a lengthy day of non-stop schedule, Hyukjae is back in the dorms and is eating what is probably his first, and only, meal of the day. Having gotten up before dawn with several of the other members, Hyukjae has been outside the dorm the entire day at various photoshoots, interviews, and MC events. It was safe to say that he is exhausted. But he is also hungry, and no matter how sleepy he is, hunger always trumps exhaustion in a way that nothing else can.

Leaning against the counter while the ramen cooks, Hyukjae allows his mind to wander. There is a nagging sense of worry that itches at the back of his throat, tightening in his chest at various intervals, usually whenever he thinks of his fishy friend and the newly-returned subgroup.

Donghae has been locked away in his room for the past couple weeks, ever since his return from Super Junior M promotions, only coming out to attend events on his schedule, to practice, and to use the bathroom. And as soon as any of those three things are done with, he’s back in his room, door firmly shut against the ruckus of the floor. He even eats meals, if and when he does eat, in his room. Even Heechul, who rarely worries about anyone aside from himself or Hangeng (or Eeteuk, though Heechul will deny that vehemently if questioned), is starting to worry. It’s common knowledge that Donghae is Heechul’s favorite dongsaeng, and if Donghae isn’t happy (or is mad, sad, grieving, etcetera), then Heechul isn’t a gaping ball of sunshine either. In fact, he makes life downright horrible for everyone until Donghae is happy again.

Hyukjae pulls the pot of ramen off the stove and transfers it into a couple bowls to cool. He cleans up the kitchen area so that Ryeowook and Hangeng won’t bitch at him in the morning for leaving a mess, then flicks off the lights, grabs the bowls, and goes to the upper dorm in search of Donghae.

It takes a couple minutes to get upstairs without spilling the steaming ramen all over himself or the floor, but he does eventually manage it. Closing the door to the dorm with his hip, Hyukjae shuffles down the hallway toward the room Donghae and Eeteuk share. Hyukjae does not worry about Eeteuk being asleep as he kicks at the door with his foot, because Eeteuk is out drinking with Kangin and Yesung, and Hyukjae doesn’t expect for them to back for another hour or so. "Donghae," Hyukjae says, nudging the door particularly with his socked foot when the original foot-knock brings him no attention from the male inside, "I know you’re awake, and I know you haven’t eaten recently. Get up and let me in." Hyukjae is answered with silence, but he knows that Donghae has heard him.

A moment later, the door cracks open, and Donghae’s face, lined with the exhaustion that comes from lack of sleep, peers around the edge. "I’m not hungry."

"I don’t care," Hyukjae says simply, pushing the door with his foot before manuevering inside. "I made ramen. I made extra. You’re going to eat."

Donghae knows better than to argue when Hyukjae is bordering his umma mode, so he can only take the second bowl and curl back up on his bed. He doesn’t eat, however, merely staring down into the bowl as if the noodles held the answer to the questions of the world.

Hyukjae slumps at the desk opposite Donghae’s bed where he always seems to sit, slurping down the noodles so fast that he barely tastes them. On the bed, Donghae looks up, seemingly surprised by Hyukjae’s vigorous eating, but a crooked smile quirks at his lips, and then he takes a bite, savoring the flavor.

"At least you didn’t cook the noodles too long this time," Donghae murmurs, more to himself than the other. Hyukjae hears him anyway and grunts a reply, secretly glad that his friend is well enough to poke fun at him once more.

Hyukjae finishes a few minutes later and, pushing the bowl further from the edge of the desk, stands and walks over to Donghae’s bed where he drops down, sprawling back across the sheets with a lazy yawn. "If I fall asleep, wake me when you want to go to bed," Hyukjae says, even though he knows that Donghae is far more likely to just shove him over and curl around him than he is to send Hyukjae to his own bed. Not that Hyukjae really minds, not when he’s too tired to care.

Hyukjae is almost asleep when he hears a faint clink of something making contact with the table beside the bed. The weight on the bed shifts closer and with a silent groan, Hyukjae cracks open an eye. He is startled to see Donghae looming above him, expression creased into a faint frown.

Donghae looks like he wants to say something, even opening his mouth, lips forming around a word that looks suspiciously like the beginning of Hyukjae’s name, but Donghae never actually says anything, and Hyukjae closes his eyes again with a tired sigh.

Some part of him knows that this is the night that Donghae will finally break his silence and talk about what has been bothering him these past couple weeks. And while Hyukjae is happy to know that Donghae is, once again, coming to him in his time of inquiry, Hyukjae wishes he could tell his fishy friend to wait until it’s morning, because Hyukjae isn’t sure how much longer he can function without a bit of rest.

The weight shifts impossibly closer. Breath, soft and smelling faintly of the spices used in the ramen, fans across Hyukjae’s face. Hyukjae wrinkles his nose, and when he opens his eye for the second time, Donghae’s face is so close to his own that Hyukjae can make out the individual lashes around his eyes, can feel the heat from Donghae’s body, even with the cool breeze that the AC unit is giving off. Goosebumps dance along the skin of Hyukjae’s arms.

"Donghae, what are you doing?"

Donghae doesn’t answer. Instead, he watches Hyukjae, as if whatever he is looking for can be found through such a manner. Hyukjae’s face begins heating up, a slow blush spreading across his features.

"Donghae," Hyukjae tries again. His voice falters and fades as Donghae leans closer, breath puffing against Hyukjae’s lips. It takes all of his hard-wrought self control to keep from leaning up and across the distance between them to see whether Donghae’s lips are really as soft as they look.

Hyukjae anxiously licks his lips, tries to distract himself from the situation by thinking of Kangin in a speedo, or something equally as awful, but the thought easily slips from his mind as he notices Donghae watching him, or more specifically his tongue, with keen interest. When Donghae looks back up at him, their eyes meeting again, the smile has faded from his lips, and there is a sense of calm acceptance deep within his friend’s eyes. Hyukjae doesn’t know whether he should be happy that Donghae seems to be more at peace with himself, or to be worried about the raw emotion flitting in Donghae’s eyes.

"Hyukkie..." Donghae whispers, thumb brushing along the line of Hyukjae’s jaw.

And then Donghae is kissing him, thin lips pressed against Hyukjae’s own, moving gently, encouragingly, hand warm against the smooth skin of Hyukjae’s cheek, urging the other to answer his heart’s call. Hyukjae is stunned and, not knowing what to do, he merely lies there, unblinking, until Donghae pulls away, face stained red, lips pressing themselves into a weak smile. The younger male rocks back on his heels, watching as Hyukjae blinks and gapes and near-hyperventilates, fingers reaching up to touch at his lips in surprise from a short distance away.

"D-Donghae?" Hyukjae finally manages, staring at him, eyes wide, fingers brushing against his trembling lips.

Donghae blinks and looks up, and a smile reminiscent of sunny days leaks onto his face. "Yes, Hyukkie?

"Y-you just k-kissed me?" It sounds like a question, but Hyukjae means it as a statement; he can’t help how his voice hitches on the tail end. "Donghae, wha... Why did you kiss me?" That, however, is meant as a quesiton, even though Hyukjae is not pleased with how that, too, hitches on the end. The raise in pitch, the near-crack in his voice makes him feel like he’s in high school again, going through the throes of puberty.

"I did," Donghae says with a slight incline of his head.

Hyukjae is stunned into speechlessness. "But why," he asks, not unkindly, but in shock.

"Because you’re mine," Donghae says without missing a beat, brown eyes warm and sincere. "You’re mine, and I’m yours, and I love you, Hyukjae."

And that statement effectily shuts Hyukjae up like no one has even been able to do before.

"Oh."

Donghae merely nods. His smile starts to fade when Hyukjae neither says nor does anything else, and a curl of panic rises up in his eyes. In a couple moments, he will flee the room like a child would, face a burning scarlet color, murmuring apologies and promising not to bother Hyukjae again. Hyukjae knows this because it’s happened before. The scenario was different (that one was over the act of skinship with the others in front of the fans, which Hyukjae later approached him about and apologized for, saying that there was nothing wrong with skinship, and he didn’t mind at all that Donghae was always hanging on Kyuhyun or Siwon, and that Hyukjae was not jealous), but the course of action is always the same.

Hyukjae can see the panic there, rising, curling, leering at him from behind Donghae’s eyes as they begin to glass over. And Hyukjae does the only thing he can do. It’s the only thing that, above all else, still makes any sense at all. Because suddenly, as if conjured by magic, Hyukjae remembers, it all makes perfect sense.

"Imagine yourself right now. Are they by your side?"

"Well, yeah."

Leaning close to the other male, Hyukjae loops an arm around Donghae’s neck and tugs him down for a gentle kiss.

The sunshine smile returns to Donghae’s lips in full force, almost scorching Hyukjae with its intensity. Tears spring to Donghae’s eyes, and the panic fades as he presses his face against the junction of Hyukjae’s shoulder and neck. He inhales deeply, then sighs in a manner that signifies content.

The warm exhale of breath tickles Hyukjae’s neck, and he wants to squirm, but something, perhaps it is instinct, warms him not to. Hyukjae waits out the tickle and lets Donghae have his moment, because he knows as well as the others do that when Donghae is one the verge of crying, it’s usually best to wait and let him regain his composure before doing anything else.

"I love you, Hyukjae," Donghae murmurs after a long moment, face still buried against Hyukjae’s neck, fingers clutching the thin fabric of Hyukjae’s shirt.

Hyukjae smiles and turns his head, pressing it against Donghae’s shoulder. "I love you, too, Donghae."

They fall asleep just like that, bodies twisted and curled around the other’s, hearts beating in a synchopated rhythm.

***

Of course, there are also days when acts his legitimate age which, according to Korean culture, puts him at a mere twenty-five years old. At this age, Donghae is smart, but not that smart. He may say one thing and actually mean another. One moment he is strong and courageous, but the next he is weak and helpless. It is the nature of humans, and it is at this age, this most vulnerable age, that Donghae is the strongest.

Those days aren’t Hyukjae’s particular favorites either but, compared, to the others, this is the age Hyukjae can most liken to. It is at this age that Hyukjae prefers to handle Donghae and the questions he always seems to have, if only because, for once, the two of them can be level with each other.

***

Donghae has been on edge for the past week.

Granted, only a couple people seem to have noticed the behavior, which stands to reason that either the other members are ignoring Donghae’s unusual behavior, which seems unlikely, they’re oblivious to the behavior, which is possible, or Donghae has simply gotten much better at hiding how he really feels, which scares Hyukjae more than anything else.

Of course, in most cases Hyukjae would have cornered Donghae by this point, cornered him and, in a way that seemed to be uniquely Hyukjae’s, forced Donghae to talk about whatever had brough on his edginess. But the past week has been busy to the point that Hyukjae is about ready to drop, and he doesn’t even want to wonder how Donghae must feel, having just returned from Super Junior M promotions only to immediately start work on Super Junior’s newest album.

Instead, a week later, Hyukjae finds himself outside of Donghae’s room, hand raised to knock.

Perhaps Donghae was waiting for him, because he opens the door a split second before Hyukjae knocks. They stare at each other a moment before a not-quite smile quirks at Donghae’s lips, "Hey." He sounds exhausted, Hyukjae notes with an absent sense of acknowledgement. Donghae sounds absolutely exhausted, and he looks like he could use a solid week’s worth of sleep. Instead, he’ll probably catch an hour or two that night, then be up the next morning pretending that the exhaustion isn’t slowly killing him.

A similar smile tugs at Hyukjae’s lips. "Hey, yourself. Going somewhere?"

The smile on Donghae’s lips fades. He casts an anxious glance over his shoulder, and Hyukjae can see Eeteuk is sprawled out on his bed, eyes closed and headphones covering his ears. Donghae steps back into the room long enough to grab his ipod, then he’s back out the door again, closing it quietly behind him in hope that he doesn’t disturb their leader.

Hyukjae waits until the door is shut before offering Donghae his hand. "Where to?"

Donghae watches him for a long moment, expression unreadable, before he takes Hyukjae’s hand and tugs him toward the door. Hyukjae lets himself be lead out of the dorm and down the hall, absently counting the doors they pass. At his side, Donghae is completely silent; he appears to be concentrating on their hands, which are gently clasped and swinging between the two of them.

They take the elevator down to the general use practice rooms. During the ride, Donghae begins tapping his foot, then his heel, then his other foot. His hand, the one not held in Hyukjae’s, taps an offbeat rhythm against his leg. And as Hyukjae watches, with every floor they descend, Donghae moves more and more until his body is practically vibrating with the tension.

When the elevator finalls stops and the doors open with a faint ping, Donghae tugs Hyukjae into the practice room where he pulls his hand free. Hyukjae, sensing that he isn’t needed at the moment retreats over to a mirror-lined wall where he sits on the bench, watching in a casual and observatory silence as Donghae walks into the middle of the room, fumbling with his ipod the entire way. He is so jittery and full of nervous energy that he nearly drops the device twice before he finally finds the song he wants. And even though Donghae is halfway across the room, Hyukjae can hear the melody as if it were being played right next to him.

Watching Donghae dance never fails to excite Hyukjae, because while Hyukjae may be known as the "Dancing Machine" of both Super Junior and the entire K-pop industry, Donghae is the one who puts his entire sense of self into every single move he makes. Each step, pop, lock, thrust -- every single move -- is brimming with passion and an energy that Hyukjae envies.

Even now, especially now, as Donghae twists his body to the music -- a blaring, screaming song driven forward by a thrumming bass line and a rapid sucession of guitar chords -- Hyukjae cannot help but admire the passion behind each move, even if the passion is only inspired by the restless energy that comes from misplaced anger and stress. The strength behind the moves shakes the floor beneath Hyukjae’s feet.

Several long minutes pass in that very manner, with Donghae dancing out his frustations and agressions and Hyukjae watching with a sense of pride and joy.

Finally, perhaps half an hour later, in the middle of another guitar-driven song, Donghae finally falters. All it takes is a split second, and the brunette loses his concentration. Hyukjae watches as Donghae wavers, body quivering, then as his knees finally give way beneath him and Donghae collapses into an unmoving heap in the middle of the practice room floor.

The music dies a moment later.

"Donghae, you okay?" Hyukjae calls.

Donghae grunts a reply but doesn’t move from where he’s now sprawled out, chest rising and falling in an unsteady rhythm.

"Lee Donghae, look at me," Hyukjae finally commands a minute or so later when Donghae fails to rise or make any other movements to signal that he is, in fact, still alive and kicking.

After a moment, reluctance obvious, Donghae does glance over in his direction. It looks to be an incredibly painful angle for his neck, so Hyukjae takes pity on him and slips off the bench, scooting over to where Donghae is now stretching out in an attempt to keep his muscles from tensing up. When he does get over to him, Hyukjae lifts Donghae’s head and places it on his lap, fingers already running methodically through the bruenette strands of hair.

Donghae mumbles a word of gratitude; a moment later he sighs, eyes closing.

When the tension has finally melted from the lines of Donghae’s face, Hyukjae bends close, pressing a light kiss to Donghae’s lips. "Better?" Hyukjae asks, a teasing grin curling his lips.

"Better," Donghae agrees, not bothering to open his eyes. He reaches out and grabs for Hyukjae’s free hand, lacing their fingers together without a second thought. A smile tugs at Donghae’s lips and he sighs once more in weary contentment.

"Good." They sit like that for a moment longer before Hyukjae asks, eyebrow cocked in inquiry, "So what was that about?"

Donghae tenses, eyes flickering open, narrowed with wariness. "What was what about?"

"That," Hyukjae says immediately. "This."

Taking a breath, Donghae turns his gaze away, coughing faintly. "It’s nothing, Hyukkie"

"Like I’ll believe that!" Hyukjae frowns, shaking away Donghae’s hand to gesture at the two of them. He notices the hurt look that flashes across Donghae’s face, choosing to ignore it in favor of reaching the core of the problem. "Just now, you were totally relaxed. I go and say five words, and you tense up like you’ve been fighting with Heechul or Sungmin for the past few hours!"

Donghae flinches, something that doesn’t go unnoticed. "Really, Hyukkie, it’s nothing. Just some subgroup stuff that I need to take care of. It shouldn’t take too long, promise."

Hyukjae stares at him, plump lips pressing into half-frown. When he speaks again, it’s in a softer tone, one meant to sooth the agitated male. "Donghae, I love you." Hyukjae presses his hand back into the younger’s then, twisting their fingers together once more. "I love you, and if you’re hurting, you shouldn’t have to do it alone. When two people love each other, they take care of each other, remember? So tell me, Hae, please. What’s going on?"

Donghae turns his face back towards Hyukjae, expression torn. "You’ll think it’s stupid."

"I won’t," Hyukjae promises. "Try me."

"You know how Kyuhyun and Sungmin are always hanging on each other while they’re here?" When Hyukjae nods, Donghae continues. "When we were promoting Me over in China, Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi got really close, and, I mean, they were pretty close after Kyuhyun’s accident, but still, they were getting really close, and I thought it was sweet how Kyuhyun, who barely knew Chinese, would cling to Zhou Mi, who didn’t know any of us at all, and vice versa, but Henry, he felt so left out. You know how he helped out with Don’t Don, right? Well he was still getting hate mail from some of the fans, and when they put him and Mi in the subgroup, it just got worse. So I’m sure he was thinking it would be good for him and Mi to stick together," Donghae babbles on, seemingly not pausing for breath. "And you remember when you asked if I liked Henry? Well, I do, like a brother though, and he’s the same way, so I was the first one he came to when he realized he liked Zhou Mi, and I didn’t know what to do, cause it’s so obvious Zhou Mi likes Kyuhyun, and Sungmin likes Kyuhyun, too, and Kyuhyun -- he’s practically a genius, but he’s so stupid sometimes, because he has no idea! He has no clue that he’s stuck in the middle of a huge love-triangle, and Henry, he doesn’t even seem to notice that Zhou Mi has absolutely no interest in him because Mi likes our maknae, and Henry can’t ever seem to see the bad in anyone, much less Mi or Kyuhyun."

Hyukjae blinks. Opens his mouth to say something, then shuts it without uttering a word.

Donghae glances up at him, frustration shining in his eyes; it almost looks as if he’s about to cry. "Well?"

"Well..." Hyukjae is at a loss for words.

"I thought you’d say that," Donghae mumbles. "You don’t even believe me, do you?"

Hyukjae reaches out without thinking and cups Donghae’s face in his hand, leaning close enough that Hyukjae can make out the individual lashes the fan out around deep brown eyes. "I believe you, Donghae. I believe you."

Donghae heaves a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he breathes. A hand snakes up to Hyukjae’s neck and rests there, a comfortable warmth against the sensitive stretch of skin. All it takes is a slight tug, and Hyukjae leans down to meet him, their lips pressing together.

"I love you, Donghae," Hyukjae says in a whisper against Donghae’s lips.

A smile curves against the words.

"I love you, too, Hyukkie."

Hyukjae smiles back and moves so that their foreheads are pressing together. "I will always love you, Donghae." Hyukjae has no idea where those words have come from or why he’s said them now, of all times, but he knows, deep inside, that not only where they the right thing to say, but that every word he said was the truth. Even if the world were to end right then and there, Hyukjae would never regret letting Lee Donghae into his life. Not that he had much of a choice, as Donghae, with all of his laughter and sunshine smiles and inability to take anything in life too seriously, is simply not someone that can be refused. At all, ever.

"I will always love you," Hyukjae murmurs with a smile, leaning down for another kiss. "Never forget that."

"I won’t.".

| Part 2: http://the-night-thief.livejournal.com/11092.html |