Title: Drowning
Characters: Eunhyuk/Donghae
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 888
Summary: Hyukjae finds it hard to tie the ends together and Donghae is still trying to keep himself a whole, but it's each other they really need.
A/N: A product of too much Eunhae fics and one sentence that I couldn't get out of my head anymore.
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It was easy to love in those two hours they had after dinner, right before going to sleep, huddled up on the couch in front of the television, or in the early crooks of morning, when he didn’t want to leave just yet and would use anything to procrastinate his departure, cuddling up against the other and sharing butterfly kisses until he really had to leave if he didn’t want to miss his bus.
It was easy to always smile when those eyes like dark brown pools filled with love captured his own, never breaking the contact while all around them people were busily talking and conversing, until he would excuse himself to whoever was standing with him and walk up to the other to talk and feel and desire until the outside world was nothing more than a long forgotten memory and they couldn’t wait to go home to express their feelings through actions.
It was easy to never want to leave when they were a bunch of tangled limbs, sprawled all over the bed in the middle of the night, and it felt like there was nothing better in life than being so close, hands roaming places they would never touch in public, lips pressing against soft skin in signs of appreciation and love, while sometimes whispering those sweet nothings to each other in a desperate attempt of putting their feelings into words.
Those were the times when the whispered ‘I love you’s and the ‘We’ll always be together’s came without effort, slipping through their parted mouths as smoothly as the occasional lick of dry lips, while their fingers traced jaw lines and messy hair until they knew every pattern by heart.
But times are only times and he had very soon discovered that loving wasn’t always that easy and plain sailing, and it got a lot harder to love when he woke up at three in the morning, only having had an hour of sleep and trying to catch the remaining two as well, just to find the other shaking his shoulder, needing a hug, needing a reassurance that things were going to be okay and the monsters of the past would soon stop haunting nightmares.
It got a lot harder to always smile when the hot water and electricity got cut off because there were bills to pay and rent that was months behind, yet all the other would do was smile, say it would be alright over time and give him a hug, when all he really wanted to hear was that the other had found a job and things would take a turn for the better soon.
It got a lot harder to never want to leave when he came home at four PM only to find the other still in bed, with none of the house chores done and a pile of dishes that almost filled the whole square meter they called kitchen waiting for him as if laughing at the fact that he trusted the other to actually fulfil the constantly made promises of cleaning and working and actually helping out.
At such times, he had to stop himself from lashing out at the other, had to swallow back the anger and smile, because shouting wouldn’t solve anything and it wouldn’t do to hurt the other over and over again, even though the idea of stepping out of the door and never coming back started to sound more attractive with every passing day.
Yet in the end, he protested against himself, it were rough times, and rough times always came with depressions here and there, but as they washed dishes together, getting foam all over the kitchen and themselves, or as they vacuumed the ten square meters of their apartment, discovering long lost memories underneath the furniture and behind hardly moved closets, he found it was easy to rediscover his own laughter, especially when he never failed to make it seem like life was really worth the struggle.
It were rough times, but he still found his whole being calming down when they were a bunch of tangled limbs in the bathtub, washing themselves with water he had heated up on the stove as they used the scarce light from around twenty candles he strategically placed all over their two square meters bathroom, soft lips slowly kissing the pain away.
It were rough times, but in between the bad and worse, he always had a smile to show and a hug to spare and it was in his arms that he found his heart felt at home, even though his mind kept fighting the way he was so suddenly bound to the other, clinging to him like his life depended on it, and even though in some ways it probably did, he felt like no one had to know about that - not even he himself.
So he took the good times and the bad times, he laughed and cried, loved and hated, and all of it blurred together in just him and him, uniting into them, slowly drowning in the vastness of life together, finding the waves close above their heads, but never stopping to try and fight their way back to the surface, because it might be rough times, but no one ever said life would be easy.
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