Title: That Gay Thing
Characters: Hyukjae, Donghae, Yesung, Sungmin, OC
Rating: PG-13
Chaptercount: 1/?
Summary: Playing the part of the struggling possibly-gay in their last year's school play, Hyukjae loses himself in the role and falls in love with another guy. He tells himself he's not gay, that he's just overdoing the getting-in-role thing, but for some reason it's not as convincing as he would like it to be.
A/N: An idea that came to me a while back. It's a plotline I want to write because it is a current day thing and I'd love to take on a more difficult topic for once. My updates may come very slow, but I'm determined to bring this story to a good end. I hope that with my view on these things and feelings I will not insult anyone. I have no idea how it feels for people who go through this (I'm also not a guy), but I'm trying to picture it the best I can~ ^-^
- - - - -
“Alright guys, listen up.” When Miss Park says those words, the rowdy bunch that are my classmates calms down and we all turn to the front of the classroom. It’s strange to be here again, sitting at these tables with all nine of my classmates, waiting for the teacher to tell us what this year’s going to be all about.
I assume it’s going to be different this year, however, since it’s my last year of university. At the end of this year I’ll hopefully graduate with a diploma in hand, successfully having gotten my major in acting. That’s probably what everyone else in this room wishes for as well. I for one know at least two other people who do. I turn to look at Donghae on my right, but before I can mutter anything to him, Miss Park continues talking.
“So… Welcome back everyone.” She smiles at us and lets her eyes wander over all the students present. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her smile but it’s still the same. “I’ll get straight to the point as to not waste this hour we have today. This year you guys will be doing all the work.” The words confuse me but I don’t have to wait for a decent explanation for too long because she soon continues talking.
“You have only one thing to do this school year. All of you are going to work together to write, direct and perform a play. There’s ten of you which will probably cover the main roles and the most important side roles. If you need more people, I’ll pick out some of the second years to help out and you can use the first years as stage fillers as well. You start now and will have to perform your play a week before graduation.” Once again Miss Park looks at all of us. “Any questions?”
I’m stunned into silence for a moment and I’m pretty sure everyone else is too, but then some hands rise and questions are starting to get asked. “What kind of play does it have to be? It’s not a musical, right,” someone asks, but I’m not quite sure who.
“Any kind you’d like. But you’re going to have to decorate the stage yourself, so I suggest you don’t make it too fictional.” It’s obvious that Miss Park is amused by the situation she has put us in, which shows from the way she’s eyeing us all with that happy smile. “I’ll be around to help you out as well, of course, but this has to come from all of you mainly. You’ll be graded on cooperation, dedication and your eventual acting. So I suggest you start with finding a plotline.”
She turns away after those words, busying herself with some papers on her desk and after a moment’s hesitation we’re all huddled together discussing possible plotlines and some of my classmates’ big ideas. There’s only so much inspiration we have in one hour of class, however, so the idea we settle for in the end is somewhat lame, or at least it is in my opinion: a love story, the famous guy in school with the unpopular, ugly girl.
We’ve voted for the main roles already. Donghae will take the lead because he’s amazing and Chaerim volunteered to play the main girl. It’s a role none of the other girls want to take because she’ll have to start out by changing pretty much everything about her appearance to be able to ‘become’ pretty throughout the play. The idea of wearing fake braces surprisingly doesn’t appeal to many people.
“Hyukkie!” Donghae punches my shoulder as we leave the classroom and I pretend to be hurt as I turn to look at him. “Why didn’t you volunteer for the main role?” Donghae asks as if I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life not doing so. I chuckle and roll my eyes.
“Because you would have won anyway.” My words immediately make Donghae open his mouth to protest but I stop him with a slight raise of my hand. “Don’t protest. Let’s just face it that you’re the better actor out of the two of us. You know, more life experience and all that jazz. We learned about that in our second year.” Throughout my words Donghae’s expression becomes more sour and I know I’ve won the discussion. “So anyway, you playing against Chaerim, huh? I guess you already look forward to the kiss?”
It takes only a second for my best friend to punch my shoulder yet again, giving me a glare for giving away his secret so easily. It’s not like I’m very impressed by this show of his prudence but I give him an apologetic look anyway because I know Donghae thinks no one knows yet. He’s wrong in thinking that, of course, his crush is as obvious as... well, probably as obvious as sunshine on a rainy day. I don’t even know what kind of comparison that’s supposed to be but it sounds alright.
“I do, though,” Donghae admits after a while and I grin. It’s true and we both know it, he just likes to make a big deal out of denying and hiding it before admitting the truth. “I guess I look forward to it, just hoping she doesn’t look like a nerd anymore by then, that’s going to be somewhat awkward I guess?”
“Hey, don’t judge a book by its cover, Donghae!” I turn to see who has joined our conversation and smile upon spotting Eunyoung catching up with us. She’s one of our other close friends in class, someone we’ve known since the very first year in this university. I’m not quite sure but I think she might have a crush on Donghae, although that’s never been proven. Yet the way she constantly gravitates towards him makes it all the more plausible.
Donghae laughs as she throws her arm around his neck and ruffles her fist through his hair. They’re soon wrestling their way towards the exit of the building as I just follow along, smiling over their bickering. It’s the two of them that I assume will probably end up together one day, not Donghae and Chaerim, as much as he wishes for that to happen. Eunyoung matches with my friend in ways that go beyond love so I hope he’ll choose her and certainly doesn’t hurt her.
There’s not much we can do for the play at home so when Donghae offers to go out that evening I agree wholeheartedly, amused at the way he immediately calls up a few other friends. There’s some from the same course as them and then a few from high school who are now studying plenty of different things. He always calls up everyone but usually only three or four of them have time to make it over.
It’s the same this evening and we end up going out with Ryeowook, Siwon - who brings his girlfriend Minah - and Sungmin. Eunyoung goes along as well but as always she’ll have to leave by ten. Her parents don’t want her out that late for reasons unknown and she always complains about it. So far I’ve refrained from telling her that it’s for the best because after ten Donghae usually starts dancing with everything that has boobs and moves along with him.
The evening is nice, despite the fact that I don’t really know Sungmin nor Ryeowook that well while they’re the two who stay behind at the table with me when the others go to dance. We exchange some random small talk but it’s nothing interesting and I end up moving over to the dance floor as well in order to avoid more awkwardness. Since we have class still the next day, we all go home by midnight and I drop down on my bed with a content sigh.
It takes a while to fall asleep but once I do, my alarm clock wakes me after what seems like mere seconds. I’m surprisingly awake and it takes less long than usual for me to put on some clothes and set for class. When I enter, everyone’s already there aside from Miss Park. I settle on my usual seat next to Donghae and after a short good morning settle for watching him bicker with Eunyoung.
It doesn’t take long for our teacher to enter the classroom but we know she usually takes another minute or two before being ready so the buzzing of conversations doesn’t cease. I let my eyes wander over these people that I got to know so well over the past few years, smiling lightly at recalling some of the memories I share with them. It’s nice to be back in school, I conclude after a while, nice to be working together with them again.
“Miss Park, I would like to suggest something...” Everyone falls silent when Hwayoung suddenly speaks up. It’s not often that she raises her voice but when she does it’s usually interesting. I have a certain feeling of apprehension towards it today because suggestions usually also mean change and I’m fine with things being the way they are now.
“What would you like to suggest, Hwayoung? Anything you’d like to change?” Miss Park replies with a smile and a sigh escapes me. Here we go already.. Donghae nudges my side lightly, giving me a look that politely tells me to shut the heck up about it even though I’m not saying a word. I roll my eyes at him but try to keep my annoyance at bay.
“Actually I have a different plot to suggest. Perhaps we could write a play about a guy or a girl who falls in love with someone of the same gender. We could try to portray the inner struggle and how society’s going to bring those feelings down. I think it might open some people’s eyes towards this subject and perhaps some of the youngsters dealing with the same problems can feel inspired or find courage.”
I have to agree that the idea is noble if anything. The way she talks about it gives off the impression like she has been there herself but I find it better not to ask anything. Miss Park doesn’t seem to have the same reserve though. “That’s an interesting idea, Hwayoung, how did you come up with that,” she asks and I find myself wondering about the same thing.
“My brother moved to America two years ago together with his boyfriend because they weren’t accepted into the society here.” Hwayoung seems slightly hesitant to admit that fact but still continues anyway and a quick glance around the classroom tells me everyone’s paying attention to her now. “I’ve seen the things he’s been through and I wouldn’t want anyone to have to suffer like that. Not because of something as good as love.”
She smiles lightly but there’s a lot more in her eyes than that. I’m surprised exactly how much more there is and all of a sudden I find myself wanting to use this new plotline, just so I can get that girl to feel better and to help her spread this story to the other people.
“Well, it’s definitely a story I’d support,” Miss Park breaks through my reveries, smiling at Hwayoung still. “You want to take the main role?” As they probably all expect by then, Hwayoung quickly shakes her head. Our teacher’s eyes then move over to Donghae, going to Chaerim after that. “Either of you feel up for this role?”
Chaerim immediately shakes her head. “I’m sorry, miss, but I’d feel too awkward trying to pretend to be in love with one of my friends. Faking a crush is my weak spot,” she explains herself. I feel my eyes going to Donghae automatically after those words. He’s frowning, seemingly thinking it over, but I see the start of rejection forming in his mind.
“Donghae?” Miss Park asks next and now I’m no longer the only one looking at him. “You have to find someone to act opposite of you as well, though.” That seems to stump him even more because even though he doesn’t wordily reject the part, Miss Park already turns to Hwayoung with a regretful expression.
“I’ll do it.”
It takes a moment for everyone to realise who spoke, but then they’re all looking at me. “If Donghae plays the second main. And I refuse to kiss a guy. If you really want a kiss in it, you’ll have to hide our faces behind something or darken the stage before anything happened, otherwise it’s going to be one big, awkward mess.” I try not to mind too much that everyone’s staring, hiding my face slightly and especially NOT looking at Donghae nor Hwayoung.
“Donghae?” Miss Park asks again and I wait with bathed breath for his reaction. It’s silent for but a moment yet that short amount of time feels like a whole year to me.
“Alright,” Donghae agrees then and I can hear the smile in his words. “Hyuk and I will take the main roles.”
Two weeks later we have a pretty solid idea and a script that solely needs to have dialogues made and details added. Gongjae turned out to be one of a kind at coming up with plots and Hwayoung – being the one to come up with the main idea – has helped him out. The idea is simple, they say, but Donghae and I are the ones who have to fill in the dialogue as we go.
“Get into character,” Miss Park told us when we asked her about it. “When you two get into character you make up your own lines all the time anyway.”
It’s true, we often had times when we were acting and got into it so much that we just let our characters have their say. I am always convinced that Donghae is the one starting the adlibs, but he always says he just follows along with me. Miss Park concluded that we are both good at getting into character and becoming the person we’re acting out.
I still remember the one time that happened when Donghae was acting as a female character due to a lack of girls and he was PMS-ing for a good week afterwards.
What comes next is the creation of our decor. The story will mainly happen inside the main person’s school, but we also need a café where he’ll be meeting his soon-to-be-crush for the first time, the house where he’ll tell his parents and the dark alley he’ll get beat up in.
There’s many things we need to create for this play but Donghae and I have to practice the most so we got the other’s approval to work on the other things a little less. We need to create the dialogues after all, which is not as easy of a job as they all make it to be. So while everyone else is discussing the main school decor, we’re sitting at the back with my laptop in between us in order to come up with our first meeting.
“Alright. Let’s see. So we meet in a café where I am because..?” I start, opening the document with the script to scroll through to the right moment. “Main guy is invited by friends to an evening out where he meets other main. He is immediately intrigued by the other boy and as they develop a friendship, his feelings evolve..”
I look up at Donghae after that, raising my eyebrows a little and licking my lips suggestively as I scoot over towards him. “Hello there, gorgeous. What be your name?” I ask him in what’s supposedly a seductive way. For a moment he’s staring at me weirdly while I’m trying to keep a straight face, but then we’re both laughing and he shoves my arms away from him.
“This is going to be a long road,” he says with a small smile. “You do realise that at the end they’re going to be having actually mushy scenes, right?” I need a moment to grasp those words, but then I’m scrolling through the document towards the ending. “They end up together?” I squeak somewhat panicked, coming to the scene where the main character has the other main confessing to him. He doesn’t have any reply yet, though, but my hopeful glance at Donghae brings no solace. He looks pensive yet somehow certain of himself.
“They don’t have a set ending yet, Hyuk. Have you even read through the script at all last night? But well, it’s going to depend on how we make our characters come to life. Our dialogues are going to make or break their relationship, I guess.” He smiles at me amusedly for a moment and I know I won’t like what will come next. “You know how much I love happy endings, so pucker up big boy!” I make a disgusted sound at his kissy face and quickly push it away from me.
“Gross, Hae, very gross. If I’m ever going to kiss a man, it’s definitely not going to be you.” I make a face at him before turning back to the computer. “Alright, back to business. First scene, we’re in a bar, who starts the conversation.” Looking up at Donghae, I find him looking at me and it’s obvious that we both already know the answer.
“I would,” he says. “You’d be too much of an awkward stick.” I’d contradict that but our own first meeting proves otherwise. We met in a DVD store, he struck the conversation and I awkwardly answered him as best as possible. But then again, he thought I was a store worker because of the colour of my shirt while I was actually only finding some movies for my own. I like to think it was my good taste in movies that became the base for our friendship.
“You would,” I agree with him for that, and from there on we start to make our dialogues It’s a few hours well spent, while the others sketch and create the first ideas for the decor. Eunyoung is the one to come between us when our time’s up. She has to wave a hand in front of the computer screen to catch our attention and when we look up, everyone else is gone already.
“Class is over for today. We have to find the things we need as cheap as possible,” she explains to us and I nod in understanding while typing up the last part of the sentence we’re working on. Only then do I save the document and look up again.
Donghae is checking his phone to see whether he can get a ride home from his brother. Meanwhile Eunyoung is eyeing him longingly. I can’t help but chuckle and give her a subtle wink as she turns to look at me. She rolls her eyes but doesn’t comment – and how can she with Donghae sitting but inches away. I turn to him once more and hum something as I nudge his arm in hopes of getting his attention. He only looks up when he finishes his texting.
“Mind if I stay at yours tonight, Hyuk? We can work on the dialogues some more if you want?” The question isn’t rare, but it is unexpected as he doesn’t look very troubled today. It happens more often that Donghae stays over at my place for a night. The excuse is that he has to travel a long way to get home, reality is that his mother had another fight with her boyfriend of the week or that she had another nervous breakdown.
I don’t ask for the actual reason anymore. We long have gotten him an extra bed and my parents treat him like he is their actual son. “Sure, Hae,” is therefore what I reply easily. The smile on his face is immediate as he beams his happiness and relief at us.
“Thanks, dude. I did agree to meet with Donghwa first though, so I’ll meet you in an hour or two? Or do you want to come along?” He looks at Eunyoung for a moment and I look up at her as well at that. She’s trying not to look too obvious while shooting me hopeful glances. I smile apologetically as I focus on Donghae again.
“Sorry, promised to take Eunyoung out for pizza. It’s been ages since we had any. I’m sure you have enough to discuss with your brother.” The excuse is waterproof. Eunyoung and I never agreed on eating pizza but whenever she wants to talk to me, that’s exactly what we do and her relieved expression shows I understood her distress well.
“Ah, yes, alright. I’ll see you tonight then?” Donghae seems to be oblivious to our silent exchange, making it all the easier for me to keep up the pretences.
“Yeah, If I’m not back yet when you arrive you can just wait for me inside. I’m sure umma will provide you with anything you need.” He hums in understanding as he gets up. With a small nod at Eunyoung and me and a short wish of “I hope the pizza is good” he then leaves the classroom. Eunyoung and I look at the empty doorway a moment longer before eyeing each other.
“Poor him,” Eunyoung hums, making me smile with some regret. “I hope his mother will realise soon that she doesn’t need those other guys to be able to live. Donghae’s studies are all paid for by now and with the money Donghwa’s making they’re able to live just fine.”
I shrug slightly in reply. “She’s too proud to agree to take her son’s money to live on. But what are you admiring Donghwa so much for lately? Have you changed your allegiance to him instead of poor, unknowing Hae?” She throws her scarf at my head and I laugh as I pick it up from the table. “Thanks dear, it’s getting colder indeed and I needed one of those,” I tell her as I pack it away in my bag before looking up. “So what kind of pizza do you want?”
She manages her angry glare only a moment longer before she’s grinning at me and I don’t need long to grin back.
Showing posts with label donghae. Show all posts
Showing posts with label donghae. Show all posts
Tuesday, 10 January 2012
Monday, 19 December 2011
[FIC] That Gay Thing
Title: That Gay Thing
Characters: Hyukjae, Donghae, Yesung, Sungmin, OC
Rating: PG-13
Chaptercount: Prologue
Summary: Playing the part of the struggling possibly-gay in their last year's school play, Hyukjae loses himself in the role and falls in love with another guy. He tells himself he's not gay, that he's just overdoing the getting-in-role thing, but for some reason it's not as convincing as he would like it to be.
A/N: An idea that came to me a while back. It's a plotline I want to write because it is a current day thing and I'd love to take on a more difficult topic for once. My updates may come very slow, but I'm determined to bring this story to a good end. I hope that with my view on these things and feelings I will not insult anyone. I have no idea how it feels for people who go through this (I'm also not a guy), but I'm trying to picture it the best I can~ ^-^
- - - - -
"But you LOVE me," Donghae shouts and for a moment the other boy looks so scared his expression of total disbelief fades a bit.
"No I don't," he then regains himself as he speaks with a grim edge to his voice, almost back in control over himself. "I don't know why you'd think that." He puts his hands on his hips and eyes the young man opposite of him who looks like he's going to burst into tears any moment now. Where it was Donghae who looked sure of himself at first, it is now the other young man who seems to be in control of the situation.
"What do you mean, Kibum? You said so yourself!" Donghae seems somewhat desperate by now but it is obvious the other is not affected by those words. "You kissed me!"
The silence is deafening for a few moments and then the other says the one thing he probably knows will break his friend. "No I did not. I'm straight and it is high time for you to accept that."
Characters: Hyukjae, Donghae, Yesung, Sungmin, OC
Rating: PG-13
Chaptercount: Prologue
Summary: Playing the part of the struggling possibly-gay in their last year's school play, Hyukjae loses himself in the role and falls in love with another guy. He tells himself he's not gay, that he's just overdoing the getting-in-role thing, but for some reason it's not as convincing as he would like it to be.
A/N: An idea that came to me a while back. It's a plotline I want to write because it is a current day thing and I'd love to take on a more difficult topic for once. My updates may come very slow, but I'm determined to bring this story to a good end. I hope that with my view on these things and feelings I will not insult anyone. I have no idea how it feels for people who go through this (I'm also not a guy), but I'm trying to picture it the best I can~ ^-^
- - - - -
"But you LOVE me," Donghae shouts and for a moment the other boy looks so scared his expression of total disbelief fades a bit.
"No I don't," he then regains himself as he speaks with a grim edge to his voice, almost back in control over himself. "I don't know why you'd think that." He puts his hands on his hips and eyes the young man opposite of him who looks like he's going to burst into tears any moment now. Where it was Donghae who looked sure of himself at first, it is now the other young man who seems to be in control of the situation.
"What do you mean, Kibum? You said so yourself!" Donghae seems somewhat desperate by now but it is obvious the other is not affected by those words. "You kissed me!"
The silence is deafening for a few moments and then the other says the one thing he probably knows will break his friend. "No I did not. I'm straight and it is high time for you to accept that."
Tuesday, 30 August 2011
[FIC] What's in a name: Donghae
Title: What's in a name: Donghae
Characters: Donghae
Rating: G
Wordcount: 597
Summary: ‘Don’t ever give up.’ his father had said, so he hadn’t.
A/N: I wrote the first drabble (which was Leeteuk's) on the 8th of May and since then have gradually written the others as well. It is one drabble a member. There are no plotlines, this is basically my positive fangirl view on what goes on in their minds I guess, and I just really enjoyed writing these out, although it sometimes was a major battle.
- - - - -
Don’t ever give up.’ his father had said, so he hadn’t.
Other people could have told him the same thing over and over again, but it would never have gotten the same effect, for he loved his father dearly. And what else could he do but grant a dying person’s last wish? Even now, almost five years later, he still didn’t know why those words had left such a big impression on him. Yet they had, and he was now living he consequences. Not that he thought those consequences bad, but it was just strange how a few words could have such an effect on him. Then again, his father had been very dear to him of course.
Never in his whole youth could he have guessed that, one day, his father, the closest friend he had, was going to be taken away. Not once did he think about such tragic outcomes. Especially not at times when his father took him out fishing or when they sang together. He had always seen his father as the strongest man on earth and in his eyes, nothing would ever have been able to defeat his father. But then reality had come knocking..
God knows why it had to be his father getting sick. Why not some evil mafia leader or some bloodthirsty tyrant? The world would have been better off without them. Or why not he himself? No, life had to suck and make his father sick. As the memories of happy afternoons spent singing died away and were replaced by memories of hospitals and scary machinery, he had slowly started to fear the worst, but had never voiced his fears, afraid to make them reality that way.
He had lived his life as an SM trainee, meeting the other members one by one and gradually growing closer to some of them. There had been no real difficulties or annoyances, yet he had also never really given it all much thought. Because his father was sick, he tried to do his best as a singer, tried to make it all worthwhile, tried to live the life his father could never have. But it was all in vain, for it was still him living his father’s dream, not his own. Even after debut, although he worked hard, he sometimes got bored with it and remembered his own dream of being a famous soccer player. Until he was given the news that his father, his best friend, was no more.
After that day, no training was too hard anymore and no practice too long. He would go on until he fainted from exhaustion and would wake up just to get back to work, because he didn’t believe that his father would have wanted him to slack. And somehow, somewhere along the way, his father’s dream had also become his own. Seeing the fans cheer for him, feeling the love they gave him, he felt as if a little bit of that emptiness inside of him was filled up.
Every time he thought of giving up, there would be his father’s words in his head, and every time he painfully remembered his father, there would be understanding looks and reassuring hugs. He would be able to go on again, seeing the love he got from his members and he would feel refreshed, knowing that the fourteen of them would be by his side, forever and always. With those things in mind, he could keep going, savouring the reassuring knowledge that somewhere up there in heaven, his father was always watching over him.
Characters: Donghae
Rating: G
Wordcount: 597
Summary: ‘Don’t ever give up.’ his father had said, so he hadn’t.
A/N: I wrote the first drabble (which was Leeteuk's) on the 8th of May and since then have gradually written the others as well. It is one drabble a member. There are no plotlines, this is basically my positive fangirl view on what goes on in their minds I guess, and I just really enjoyed writing these out, although it sometimes was a major battle.
- - - - -
Don’t ever give up.’ his father had said, so he hadn’t.
Other people could have told him the same thing over and over again, but it would never have gotten the same effect, for he loved his father dearly. And what else could he do but grant a dying person’s last wish? Even now, almost five years later, he still didn’t know why those words had left such a big impression on him. Yet they had, and he was now living he consequences. Not that he thought those consequences bad, but it was just strange how a few words could have such an effect on him. Then again, his father had been very dear to him of course.
Never in his whole youth could he have guessed that, one day, his father, the closest friend he had, was going to be taken away. Not once did he think about such tragic outcomes. Especially not at times when his father took him out fishing or when they sang together. He had always seen his father as the strongest man on earth and in his eyes, nothing would ever have been able to defeat his father. But then reality had come knocking..
God knows why it had to be his father getting sick. Why not some evil mafia leader or some bloodthirsty tyrant? The world would have been better off without them. Or why not he himself? No, life had to suck and make his father sick. As the memories of happy afternoons spent singing died away and were replaced by memories of hospitals and scary machinery, he had slowly started to fear the worst, but had never voiced his fears, afraid to make them reality that way.
He had lived his life as an SM trainee, meeting the other members one by one and gradually growing closer to some of them. There had been no real difficulties or annoyances, yet he had also never really given it all much thought. Because his father was sick, he tried to do his best as a singer, tried to make it all worthwhile, tried to live the life his father could never have. But it was all in vain, for it was still him living his father’s dream, not his own. Even after debut, although he worked hard, he sometimes got bored with it and remembered his own dream of being a famous soccer player. Until he was given the news that his father, his best friend, was no more.
After that day, no training was too hard anymore and no practice too long. He would go on until he fainted from exhaustion and would wake up just to get back to work, because he didn’t believe that his father would have wanted him to slack. And somehow, somewhere along the way, his father’s dream had also become his own. Seeing the fans cheer for him, feeling the love they gave him, he felt as if a little bit of that emptiness inside of him was filled up.
Every time he thought of giving up, there would be his father’s words in his head, and every time he painfully remembered his father, there would be understanding looks and reassuring hugs. He would be able to go on again, seeing the love he got from his members and he would feel refreshed, knowing that the fourteen of them would be by his side, forever and always. With those things in mind, he could keep going, savouring the reassuring knowledge that somewhere up there in heaven, his father was always watching over him.
[FIC] Turning back from walking away
Title: Turning back from walking away
Characters: Hyukjae, Donghae
Rating: G
Wordcount: 3.011
Summary: There's no point to living without the other, but is he really gone?
A/N: Written over today and yesterday (and possibly another day before that). Mostly today however. This shot is a creation of my mind that needed to be written. Sequel to Holding on to letting go but I guess readable as a stand alone as well. Pieces of my heart were torn out and put into this, so love it or I will be sad.
- - - - -
To him, life has become much alike to walking over broken glass barefooted. Every step he takes is even more painful than the previous, days blending together in a constant repetition of the same memories, his mind attuned to the stabs of pain they sent throughout his whole body. It’s like he almost welcomes the pain, knowing he deserves it, thinking it better than the emptiness that would otherwise consume him.
The windows of his apartment are small, tiny ruptures in the walls that feel like they’re closing in on him. Small openings for him to look through at the outside world, to see how life is so much brighter for those who are not him. For those who haven’t failed like him.
It’s little tiny monsters clawing at his heart, reminding him over and over again how stupid he’s been. He draws the name in his heart on a condensed window and watches it fade away again, but the feelings never change and when he looks up, the sky is still just as dreary and a single water drop splats apart on his arm, like a tear would if he still had any left to cry.
He’s gone numb over the years, no more tears to cry, no more pieces of his heart left big enough to break. There’s only a constant realisation that he’s alone and perhaps somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that it’s all of his own doing, making the feeling only harder to bear. Trying to live without Donghae is a little like trying to extinct a fire with his bare hands; it hurts big time and he realises that there’s a much better way to do it.
But Donghae is together with Kyuhyun. Or Siwon. Or maybe the other tall guy he saw him together with earlier that month, holding hands as they walked through the park. It’s as if all those people are laughing in his face for being stupid enough to have ever let go of that hand, to have ever let the younger walk away from him, stray too far. But they’re wrong, he tells them in his mind with bitter satisfaction. Donghae’s never walked away from him; he was the one leaving himself.
“What’s Neunggok like?” he remembers Donghae asking one day, the curiosity shining in his eyes. He had been tired that day, his students in dance class having been the most annoying they ever were and traffic on his way home sucking so badly he had almost wanted to leave the damn car somewhere along the way and walk the rest of the way home. It hadn’t been the best of days for him, so he had merely looked at the other in surprise for a moment before waving off the question.
“It’s like any other city.” he had replied then, and Donghae had pouted at him ever so sweetly, poking at his side to get him to say more than that. He remembers pushing away the soft hands and frowning at the insistence the other had nagged at him with. “It’s just a city, Donghae, what would it be like?” he had said then, annoyance seeping into his voice.
His answer had silenced Donghae, the younger looking up at him with something akin to hurt in his eyes before he had turned back to the television, continuing to watch the program that had been their evening entertainment. In reality it was merely something to fight off the silence that had settled between them once again, as talking would only lead them to yet another fight.
He realises now that those were the moments he should have acted differently, responded differently, if he had wanted to keep the other from pushing him away. He realises now that the reason he no longer has anyone to cuddle up to at night or to listen to his nagging had partly been Donghae, but mostly been himself and how he had always expected the other to be there no matter what.
“It’s alright.” a familiar voice whispers to him and he feels his heart settle as his muscles relax. It is alright, he realises, the other’s arms wrapped loosely around him, his face buried in the nape of the other’s neck, surrounded by the smell that used to always be present around him.
He’s not sure how they ended up like this; one moment he hadn’t spoken to the other in ages, the next he was at his doorstep, hoping to find him home. Which he was; all tired eyes and questioning expressions as he saw the other standing at his door at three in the morning.
“What are you doing here? Do you have any idea what time it is?” he had mumbled but Hyukjae had merely thrown himself in the other’s arms, the first tears already finding their way over his cheeks. They held onto each other for dear life, Donghae sobering up soon enough and holding him close as he himself just cried weeks and months of unshed tears. For love, loss and memories.
After several tries at getting him to explain what was wrong, Donghae had given in to his reluctance to answer, growing silent and merely being there. Even after so many years, after so many misunderstandings and things going wrong, Donghae had held him as if nothing had ever changed between them, and it was more than he could have hoped for.
So now here he is, clinging to the younger still, even though his tears have long stopped flowing. He can feel Donghae shifting next to him and a sudden wave of fear washes over him. What if they’ll go back to being strangers the moment he lets go? What if being close like this is merely because Donghae had not known what else to do being overwhelmed by him like that.
The mere thought of going back to the emptiness makes a second wave of tears find their way over his cheeks and he can feel the other’s grip tightening once again, the hand on his back taking up its comforting patting again as well. He can almost imagine the worried look on the younger’s face but is too afraid to look up and see that it’s only that; imagination.
“Hyukjae, tell me what’s wrong..” Donghae finally speaks after another good five minutes of continuous sobbing. “I’ve never seen you like this, what the hell happened? How did you get reduced to this?” He wants the worry he thinks he hears in the other’s voice to be real, but he doesn’t know how that could be possible when all he’s ever done is disappoint the other an endless amount of times, time and again.
When the tears don’t seem to stop, Donghae lets go of him and he barely keeps himself from squeaking in fear, not wanting to have to walk away once again. He fists his hands in the younger boy’s shirt, pressing his face against the fabric again, refusing to face the other in the state he’s currently in.
“Hyukjae, look at me.” Donghae says softly, cupping his face with the soft, warm hands he knows so well and lifting it up, away from the questionable safety of the T-shirt. Their eyes meet then, the first time that day - night? - and he finds worry and care in the other boy’s eyes, only making him want to cry even more. Donghae wipes over his cheeks with his thumbs, cleaning away the fresh tears, and sends him a small, encouraging smile.
“I’m here, Hyukjae.” the younger says then and all he can do is close his eyes with a nod, burying himself in the other’s embrace once more.
He wakes up in a completely dark room, rolling over to cuddle up against the other, but there’s no one there. No one has been there for years now. Long, agonizing years in which he was able to remind himself over and over again how stupid he had been. For the umpteenth time that month he finds himself wondering if that one night had been a dream and for the umpteenth time he grabs at his phone, checking to see if the familiar phone number is really back in his contact list.
“You’re killing yourself, Hyukjae.” Donghae had said to him when the tears had finally subsided, the two of them sitting next to each other on the living room couch. And damn the fact that that was still the same couch as when they lived in that apartment together. “You keep things pent up inside until you break, but you never actually break and it becomes so hard for you to bear that you grow gloomier every day. You have always been like this, even when we were still together.”
Donghae had given him one of those looks that said ‘I know what you’re made of, don’t try to deny it,’ and so he hadn’t. But now, lying in bed in the dark room that will only grow darker unless he turns on a light, he thinks that maybe he should’ve denied it. Because if he never really broke, then why the hell had he been crying like a baby in the other’s arms? What did Donghae really think he was doing there, forgetting any kind of pride as he cried his heart out?
With a snarl, he throws the phone away from him, hearing it drop on the floor mere moments later but refusing to feel bad about it. He’s close to going crazy, really, and for a moment he wonders if maybe Donghae is right after all. If maybe he is killing himself, tearing himself down piece by piece, thread by thread. But if he is, he’s doing it all because of the other and he doesn’t regret a single thing.
“You have to get out more.” Jungsoo tells him one day, throwing the discarded clothes in the laundry basket on his way to the kitchen. Hyukjae can’t even find it in himself anymore to tell the other to leave it, instead remaining curled up on the couch, a pillow squished in between his legs and body. Minutes later Jungsoo stuffs a plate of food in his face, but he merely turns away from it, the smell alone making him want to throw up.
“Starving yourself isn’t going to make him come to save you, Hyukjae.” the elder speaks after a moment, putting down the plate on the living room table and crossing his arms in front of his chest then. “You need to go out there and show him that you want him to come back, that you’re worth coming back to.” He can’t help huffing at those words, but the next moment his whole body starts shaking violently because of his own sobbing.
He curses this feeling, the way he shifts from good to bad to even worse in a matter of seconds. He hates the way Jungsoo has to catch him before he falls, pull him back up, put him back on his feet. He despises himself, despises what he has become, but has no energy left to change it. So he simply cries against Jungsoo’s shoulder for several moments before manning up again and going back to staring blankly ahead.
Zhou Mi is a ray of sunshine in an otherwise dark world. Introduced to him by Jungsoo he shouldn’t have expected anything less, but it still surprises him how the tall man manages to brighten even his days. The redhead drags him out of the house against his will if necessary, bringing him out to see the world and all the wondrous things it has to offer. He follows albeit reluctantly, but the more he goes out the more he enjoys it and soon he’s almost waiting for the other to show up at his door and take him out.
Zhou Mi is stupid jokes and awkward laughter, he’s occasional random hugs and the most awkward stick on legs Hyukjae’s ever seen. Zhou Mi makes him smile more than anyone else and he doesn’t even put an effort into it. Hyukjae finds himself blooming because of him, recreating his life as he goes, one step at a time, starting with a new job and new dreams. Zhou Mi is life and oxygen and Hyukjae breathes him in without restraints.
One day he thinks it’s a good idea to do something in return for all Zhou Mi’s kindness, so he pecks the other on the lips. A long awkward silence, several minutes of staring and a frown later he realises that maybe that wasn’t the brightest idea he’s ever had. Zhou Mi stares at him like he’s just landed on earth in a pink UFO and he feels extremely uncomfortable under that gaze, shifting in his seat and shyly looking away.
“What was that for?” the redhead asks after a while and he shrugs, not having a clue either. At least not anymore, the look on Zhou Mi’s face having erased every explanation he had for what he just did. They stare at each other a few moments longer in awkward silence before Zhou Mi continues the sentence Hyukjae’s action had interrupted. When he leaves later that afternoon, he smiles and waves like he always does, sunshine smile plastered on his face.
He doesn’t visit again.
Life goes back to the dull nothing it used to be. He lies in bed more often than not and doesn’t even open the door for Jungsoo anymore. After several persistent weeks of coming by every day and being left at the door, Jungsoo gives up on him too. He’s okay with that. It’s not as if there’s much of him left to care for anyway. The fact that he’s jobless doesn’t bother him as much, the few drops of water and the bits of electricity he uses are not a lot to pay for anyway. He lives off of his savings, but then again it’s not really to be called living. He decides he doesn’t care anymore.
It’s about seven months after his sister was diagnosed with aids, seven months after the night he spent crying in Donghae’s arms, when someone comes by again. He ignores the doorbell as he has been doing for five consecutive weeks now, but whoever’s at the door is persistent, ringing and ringing until he sees no other way to escape the shrill sound than to get up and walk over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open with quite a bit of effort.
“What do you want?” he bites at the person standing behind it, freezing in his movements when his eyes lock with the other man. For a while he just stands there, staring like that, the other person looking back calmly, before he shakes his head and repeats his question. “What do you want? Why are you here?”
“I heard you the first time,” Kyuhyun replies coldly, glancing past him into his apartment. “I think the proper words to start a conversation with are ‘Would you like to come in?’ perhaps followed by ‘Excuse me for the mess.’ You don’t really have any manners, do you?”
“Why would I apologise for a non-existing mess?” he retorts, opening the door wider as he realises he isn’t going to get rid of the pest anyway. “Come in then, if you’re going to be a stuck up idiot you can at least do it inside.” Kyuhyun eyes him a moment longer and he swears he can see surprise in the younger one’s eyes, but then the kid walks past him, not even looking back as he speaks up again.
“You do indeed smell better than I had imagined, and I can still see the floor. That’s a nice surprise. Now if you could only show to the outside world that you haven’t died yet, that would be awesome.” he rambles in a flat tone. Hyukjae closes the door and walks over to his couch, not even bothering to see what Kyuhyun’s up to as he flops down on the soft cushions, closing his eyes the moment his head touches the armrest.
“What are you doing here, Kyuhyun-ssi?” he asks in a low voice, not up for the pleasantries and the evasive talk. In fact, he’s not up for anything coming from the younger. He still clearly remembers how it was Kyuhyun prancing around holding Donghae’s hands in the months after their break-up. And even after so many years passed, he still doesn’t want to forget about that.
“I’m here to fix Donghae.” is all the younger replies, but it’s enough to make Hyukjae look up, a frown edged into his forehead.
“Why are you here for that? Donghae’s not around here. You should go to his place.” he replies softly, even the other’s name making him feel weak inside. Or maybe it’s the lack of food and sleep. He’s not exactly sure why, but Kyuhyun smirks and crosses his arms in front of his chest. They eye each other for a while, until Kyuhyun sighs and shakes his head.
“Donghae’s heart is here.” he says then, completely shaking Hyukjae’s world, making every fibre in his body glow and resound at those words. “And you’re not really taking care of it.”
He’s pretty sure the world’s playing tricks on him, but if they amount to him finding himself locked in Donghae’s embrace he’s more than willing to play along. The heartbeat under his hand feels real, though, and he’s convinced he’s not imagining the way Donghae’s breath tickles his neck as the other exhales. He closes his eyes to savour the moment even more, before sighing deeply.
“I’m sorry.” he breathes then and Donghae nods against his shoulder. It’s nothing at all, but it’s everything as well and he feels like he could cry right then and there if Donghae wasn’t already doing that more than enough for the both of them.
Characters: Hyukjae, Donghae
Rating: G
Wordcount: 3.011
Summary: There's no point to living without the other, but is he really gone?
A/N: Written over today and yesterday (and possibly another day before that). Mostly today however. This shot is a creation of my mind that needed to be written. Sequel to Holding on to letting go but I guess readable as a stand alone as well. Pieces of my heart were torn out and put into this, so love it or I will be sad.
- - - - -
To him, life has become much alike to walking over broken glass barefooted. Every step he takes is even more painful than the previous, days blending together in a constant repetition of the same memories, his mind attuned to the stabs of pain they sent throughout his whole body. It’s like he almost welcomes the pain, knowing he deserves it, thinking it better than the emptiness that would otherwise consume him.
The windows of his apartment are small, tiny ruptures in the walls that feel like they’re closing in on him. Small openings for him to look through at the outside world, to see how life is so much brighter for those who are not him. For those who haven’t failed like him.
It’s little tiny monsters clawing at his heart, reminding him over and over again how stupid he’s been. He draws the name in his heart on a condensed window and watches it fade away again, but the feelings never change and when he looks up, the sky is still just as dreary and a single water drop splats apart on his arm, like a tear would if he still had any left to cry.
He’s gone numb over the years, no more tears to cry, no more pieces of his heart left big enough to break. There’s only a constant realisation that he’s alone and perhaps somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that it’s all of his own doing, making the feeling only harder to bear. Trying to live without Donghae is a little like trying to extinct a fire with his bare hands; it hurts big time and he realises that there’s a much better way to do it.
But Donghae is together with Kyuhyun. Or Siwon. Or maybe the other tall guy he saw him together with earlier that month, holding hands as they walked through the park. It’s as if all those people are laughing in his face for being stupid enough to have ever let go of that hand, to have ever let the younger walk away from him, stray too far. But they’re wrong, he tells them in his mind with bitter satisfaction. Donghae’s never walked away from him; he was the one leaving himself.
“What’s Neunggok like?” he remembers Donghae asking one day, the curiosity shining in his eyes. He had been tired that day, his students in dance class having been the most annoying they ever were and traffic on his way home sucking so badly he had almost wanted to leave the damn car somewhere along the way and walk the rest of the way home. It hadn’t been the best of days for him, so he had merely looked at the other in surprise for a moment before waving off the question.
“It’s like any other city.” he had replied then, and Donghae had pouted at him ever so sweetly, poking at his side to get him to say more than that. He remembers pushing away the soft hands and frowning at the insistence the other had nagged at him with. “It’s just a city, Donghae, what would it be like?” he had said then, annoyance seeping into his voice.
His answer had silenced Donghae, the younger looking up at him with something akin to hurt in his eyes before he had turned back to the television, continuing to watch the program that had been their evening entertainment. In reality it was merely something to fight off the silence that had settled between them once again, as talking would only lead them to yet another fight.
He realises now that those were the moments he should have acted differently, responded differently, if he had wanted to keep the other from pushing him away. He realises now that the reason he no longer has anyone to cuddle up to at night or to listen to his nagging had partly been Donghae, but mostly been himself and how he had always expected the other to be there no matter what.
“It’s alright.” a familiar voice whispers to him and he feels his heart settle as his muscles relax. It is alright, he realises, the other’s arms wrapped loosely around him, his face buried in the nape of the other’s neck, surrounded by the smell that used to always be present around him.
He’s not sure how they ended up like this; one moment he hadn’t spoken to the other in ages, the next he was at his doorstep, hoping to find him home. Which he was; all tired eyes and questioning expressions as he saw the other standing at his door at three in the morning.
“What are you doing here? Do you have any idea what time it is?” he had mumbled but Hyukjae had merely thrown himself in the other’s arms, the first tears already finding their way over his cheeks. They held onto each other for dear life, Donghae sobering up soon enough and holding him close as he himself just cried weeks and months of unshed tears. For love, loss and memories.
After several tries at getting him to explain what was wrong, Donghae had given in to his reluctance to answer, growing silent and merely being there. Even after so many years, after so many misunderstandings and things going wrong, Donghae had held him as if nothing had ever changed between them, and it was more than he could have hoped for.
So now here he is, clinging to the younger still, even though his tears have long stopped flowing. He can feel Donghae shifting next to him and a sudden wave of fear washes over him. What if they’ll go back to being strangers the moment he lets go? What if being close like this is merely because Donghae had not known what else to do being overwhelmed by him like that.
The mere thought of going back to the emptiness makes a second wave of tears find their way over his cheeks and he can feel the other’s grip tightening once again, the hand on his back taking up its comforting patting again as well. He can almost imagine the worried look on the younger’s face but is too afraid to look up and see that it’s only that; imagination.
“Hyukjae, tell me what’s wrong..” Donghae finally speaks after another good five minutes of continuous sobbing. “I’ve never seen you like this, what the hell happened? How did you get reduced to this?” He wants the worry he thinks he hears in the other’s voice to be real, but he doesn’t know how that could be possible when all he’s ever done is disappoint the other an endless amount of times, time and again.
When the tears don’t seem to stop, Donghae lets go of him and he barely keeps himself from squeaking in fear, not wanting to have to walk away once again. He fists his hands in the younger boy’s shirt, pressing his face against the fabric again, refusing to face the other in the state he’s currently in.
“Hyukjae, look at me.” Donghae says softly, cupping his face with the soft, warm hands he knows so well and lifting it up, away from the questionable safety of the T-shirt. Their eyes meet then, the first time that day - night? - and he finds worry and care in the other boy’s eyes, only making him want to cry even more. Donghae wipes over his cheeks with his thumbs, cleaning away the fresh tears, and sends him a small, encouraging smile.
“I’m here, Hyukjae.” the younger says then and all he can do is close his eyes with a nod, burying himself in the other’s embrace once more.
He wakes up in a completely dark room, rolling over to cuddle up against the other, but there’s no one there. No one has been there for years now. Long, agonizing years in which he was able to remind himself over and over again how stupid he had been. For the umpteenth time that month he finds himself wondering if that one night had been a dream and for the umpteenth time he grabs at his phone, checking to see if the familiar phone number is really back in his contact list.
“You’re killing yourself, Hyukjae.” Donghae had said to him when the tears had finally subsided, the two of them sitting next to each other on the living room couch. And damn the fact that that was still the same couch as when they lived in that apartment together. “You keep things pent up inside until you break, but you never actually break and it becomes so hard for you to bear that you grow gloomier every day. You have always been like this, even when we were still together.”
Donghae had given him one of those looks that said ‘I know what you’re made of, don’t try to deny it,’ and so he hadn’t. But now, lying in bed in the dark room that will only grow darker unless he turns on a light, he thinks that maybe he should’ve denied it. Because if he never really broke, then why the hell had he been crying like a baby in the other’s arms? What did Donghae really think he was doing there, forgetting any kind of pride as he cried his heart out?
With a snarl, he throws the phone away from him, hearing it drop on the floor mere moments later but refusing to feel bad about it. He’s close to going crazy, really, and for a moment he wonders if maybe Donghae is right after all. If maybe he is killing himself, tearing himself down piece by piece, thread by thread. But if he is, he’s doing it all because of the other and he doesn’t regret a single thing.
“You have to get out more.” Jungsoo tells him one day, throwing the discarded clothes in the laundry basket on his way to the kitchen. Hyukjae can’t even find it in himself anymore to tell the other to leave it, instead remaining curled up on the couch, a pillow squished in between his legs and body. Minutes later Jungsoo stuffs a plate of food in his face, but he merely turns away from it, the smell alone making him want to throw up.
“Starving yourself isn’t going to make him come to save you, Hyukjae.” the elder speaks after a moment, putting down the plate on the living room table and crossing his arms in front of his chest then. “You need to go out there and show him that you want him to come back, that you’re worth coming back to.” He can’t help huffing at those words, but the next moment his whole body starts shaking violently because of his own sobbing.
He curses this feeling, the way he shifts from good to bad to even worse in a matter of seconds. He hates the way Jungsoo has to catch him before he falls, pull him back up, put him back on his feet. He despises himself, despises what he has become, but has no energy left to change it. So he simply cries against Jungsoo’s shoulder for several moments before manning up again and going back to staring blankly ahead.
Zhou Mi is a ray of sunshine in an otherwise dark world. Introduced to him by Jungsoo he shouldn’t have expected anything less, but it still surprises him how the tall man manages to brighten even his days. The redhead drags him out of the house against his will if necessary, bringing him out to see the world and all the wondrous things it has to offer. He follows albeit reluctantly, but the more he goes out the more he enjoys it and soon he’s almost waiting for the other to show up at his door and take him out.
Zhou Mi is stupid jokes and awkward laughter, he’s occasional random hugs and the most awkward stick on legs Hyukjae’s ever seen. Zhou Mi makes him smile more than anyone else and he doesn’t even put an effort into it. Hyukjae finds himself blooming because of him, recreating his life as he goes, one step at a time, starting with a new job and new dreams. Zhou Mi is life and oxygen and Hyukjae breathes him in without restraints.
One day he thinks it’s a good idea to do something in return for all Zhou Mi’s kindness, so he pecks the other on the lips. A long awkward silence, several minutes of staring and a frown later he realises that maybe that wasn’t the brightest idea he’s ever had. Zhou Mi stares at him like he’s just landed on earth in a pink UFO and he feels extremely uncomfortable under that gaze, shifting in his seat and shyly looking away.
“What was that for?” the redhead asks after a while and he shrugs, not having a clue either. At least not anymore, the look on Zhou Mi’s face having erased every explanation he had for what he just did. They stare at each other a few moments longer in awkward silence before Zhou Mi continues the sentence Hyukjae’s action had interrupted. When he leaves later that afternoon, he smiles and waves like he always does, sunshine smile plastered on his face.
He doesn’t visit again.
Life goes back to the dull nothing it used to be. He lies in bed more often than not and doesn’t even open the door for Jungsoo anymore. After several persistent weeks of coming by every day and being left at the door, Jungsoo gives up on him too. He’s okay with that. It’s not as if there’s much of him left to care for anyway. The fact that he’s jobless doesn’t bother him as much, the few drops of water and the bits of electricity he uses are not a lot to pay for anyway. He lives off of his savings, but then again it’s not really to be called living. He decides he doesn’t care anymore.
It’s about seven months after his sister was diagnosed with aids, seven months after the night he spent crying in Donghae’s arms, when someone comes by again. He ignores the doorbell as he has been doing for five consecutive weeks now, but whoever’s at the door is persistent, ringing and ringing until he sees no other way to escape the shrill sound than to get up and walk over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open with quite a bit of effort.
“What do you want?” he bites at the person standing behind it, freezing in his movements when his eyes lock with the other man. For a while he just stands there, staring like that, the other person looking back calmly, before he shakes his head and repeats his question. “What do you want? Why are you here?”
“I heard you the first time,” Kyuhyun replies coldly, glancing past him into his apartment. “I think the proper words to start a conversation with are ‘Would you like to come in?’ perhaps followed by ‘Excuse me for the mess.’ You don’t really have any manners, do you?”
“Why would I apologise for a non-existing mess?” he retorts, opening the door wider as he realises he isn’t going to get rid of the pest anyway. “Come in then, if you’re going to be a stuck up idiot you can at least do it inside.” Kyuhyun eyes him a moment longer and he swears he can see surprise in the younger one’s eyes, but then the kid walks past him, not even looking back as he speaks up again.
“You do indeed smell better than I had imagined, and I can still see the floor. That’s a nice surprise. Now if you could only show to the outside world that you haven’t died yet, that would be awesome.” he rambles in a flat tone. Hyukjae closes the door and walks over to his couch, not even bothering to see what Kyuhyun’s up to as he flops down on the soft cushions, closing his eyes the moment his head touches the armrest.
“What are you doing here, Kyuhyun-ssi?” he asks in a low voice, not up for the pleasantries and the evasive talk. In fact, he’s not up for anything coming from the younger. He still clearly remembers how it was Kyuhyun prancing around holding Donghae’s hands in the months after their break-up. And even after so many years passed, he still doesn’t want to forget about that.
“I’m here to fix Donghae.” is all the younger replies, but it’s enough to make Hyukjae look up, a frown edged into his forehead.
“Why are you here for that? Donghae’s not around here. You should go to his place.” he replies softly, even the other’s name making him feel weak inside. Or maybe it’s the lack of food and sleep. He’s not exactly sure why, but Kyuhyun smirks and crosses his arms in front of his chest. They eye each other for a while, until Kyuhyun sighs and shakes his head.
“Donghae’s heart is here.” he says then, completely shaking Hyukjae’s world, making every fibre in his body glow and resound at those words. “And you’re not really taking care of it.”
He’s pretty sure the world’s playing tricks on him, but if they amount to him finding himself locked in Donghae’s embrace he’s more than willing to play along. The heartbeat under his hand feels real, though, and he’s convinced he’s not imagining the way Donghae’s breath tickles his neck as the other exhales. He closes his eyes to savour the moment even more, before sighing deeply.
“I’m sorry.” he breathes then and Donghae nods against his shoulder. It’s nothing at all, but it’s everything as well and he feels like he could cry right then and there if Donghae wasn’t already doing that more than enough for the both of them.
[FIC] Holding on to letting go
Title: Holding on to letting go
Characters: Donghae, Hyukjae
Rating: G
Wordcount: 2.135
Summary: Losing something dear is the wors feeling there is.
A/N: I wrote this because I made a new friend and she seems to bring something to life in me that consists of Eunhae, angst and so many things I just can't explain. I told her I felt like writing broken Eunhae and then I just did. So this is broken Eunhae. It's all angst, all of it, and so far it made two people cry already. Yay. Hope you enjoy. If not... Hope you don't notice me sneaking away at the side to escape your wrath.
- - - - -
There’s something about being sad that is hard to let go of.
Something about crying that makes you want to crawl into a heap of a mess and cry forever.
Something about getting hurt that gets you to take the bloody knife and stab yourself a few times more just because.
Losing something dear is the worst feeling there is. Especially when you’re so utterly convinced you’ll never lose it that you’re too blind to notice it slipping away until it’s gone. There’s a kind of finality in losing what you love the most, a feeling of everything ending, even when you still have so many possibilities to go on. The world seems like a dark place, reality gets turned into a twisted kind of hell and sleep is a sanctuary of peace and happy dreams you never actually want to wake up from.
He’s tired. Tired of trying. Tired of holding on to things he’s being forced to let go of. He’s trying to figure out ways to ease himself out of this thing they have become but it’s not working. It will never work. And somehow, he doesn’t really want it to work. He wants to keep holding on.
They’ve both been screaming at each other for a while now, sore throats, dry mouths, hoarse voices. He doesn’t even remember what started the fight, he just knows that at some point it started and now they’re yelling things the other’s not even listening to anyway.
“I’m sorry.” he whispers, but the other is too busy yelling over the sound of his own disappointment to notice. He feels the tears seeping into his eyes, ready to make their way over his cheeks, but he turns away before they can. He doesn’t want to show how much he still cares, so he takes the other’s angry shouts at his back as he retreats to their room, closing the door behind him and crawling into bed.
He allows himself to cry there, under the compact privacy of the blanket, until he feels like he’s going to pass out because of a lack of oxygen. When he sticks his head out from underneath the blanket, the air in the room is cold on his wet cheeks and he feels stupid for crying over stupid things. He feels stupid for loving a stupid person too, but then again; two stupid people together should match perfectly, no?
He lets his eyes slid closed and tries to sleep, tries to lose himself in the vastness of his imagination, even though he knows he won’t be able to for at least another hour. It’s right when he feels himself float off into oblivion a select few hours later that the sound of the door opening and closing wakes him up completely again. The bed dents a little under the other’s weight and soon there’s fingers gently stroking his cheek, brushing over the skin that’s still sensitive from all the tears.
“You should undress a little.” a soft whisper reaches his ear. “You’re going to be cold tomorrow morning.” He murmurs something of a disagreement, adds some sounds that mean he’s tired and wants to sleep and lets out an annoyed grunt when the fingers don’t go away. The gentleness doesn’t change either, however, and a kiss is pressed on his cheek. “I don’t want to argue over this too, Hae. I’m sorry. Please just take off your jeans at least.”
He doesn’t move at first, but right before he passes out again, he does reach down, unbuttons his pants and kicks them out. It doesn’t take long for cold feet to get pressed against his warm legs and slender arms to be wrapped around his body, making him smile in contentment.
It’s much easier to lean into the touch than he feared it would be and as he hides his face in the crook of the other’s neck, sneaking his arms around the almost non-existing middle, he realises just how much he loves the other and how much he hates arguing with him. It’s moments like these, huddled closely together on the bed, that make him realise why they’re still together.
“I love you.” he whispers to the silence of the other’s heartbeat, stroking gentle fingers through soft hair. He smiles slightly at the insecurity on the other’s lips and kisses away the tears in his eyes. But Hyukjae moves, creating distance and regrets, forcing heartbreaks. He follows, not allowing the other to tear them apart. It has always been like that and will always be like that. And in the end Hyukjae always replies to him with an “I love you too,” satisfying both their hearts.
That’s how it goes. That’s how they’ve made it so far. Hyukjae trying to pull away and him not allowing that. That’s how the world turns for them. He doesn’t count in days anymore, he counts in times he’s gone after the other and brought him back.
Sometimes he thinks that maybe he should just not follow after the other this time around, should just let him walk away and see how far he’ll go before coming back. But he’s afraid to find that the other will never come back at all, so he chases after him every time again.
And no matter how much he’d like to rub it in the other’s face one day; what an incredible moron he’s being and how many times he’s had to save the both of them, he figures it’s no use crying over spilled milk. After all, he likes to keep the past what it is; passed.
“I hate you.” he shouts at one point. “You’re selfish, you don’t ever think about what I feel and you just keep running from this, from us. We’re supposed to be in this together. You and me, TOGETHER.” He’s so hurt that he almost chokes on his words trying to get them out but he doesn’t care. Hyukjae has taken it one step too far this time, hurt him that tad bit too much.
“All you care about is yourself and how your parents would disagree. Well they don’t even know about us, so why are they standing in our way? Because YOU stand in our way, Hyukjae, and I keep pushing you ahead against your will it seems. So fine, I won’t push anymore. I’ll let you be. I’ll let you walk out of this life you don’t really want to be a part of. So go, if you want. Just go.”
He slams the door closed extra loudly as he leaves the apartment, forgetting his jacket and his scarf, but it’s alright, because he doesn’t feel the freezing wind nor the soft snowflakes. His vision is blurred by tears and he walks at random, trying to get himself to calm down.
When he goes back to the apartment several hours later, Hyukjae is gone. The wardrobe is three times as empty as it used to be, the cupboard lacks five pairs of shoes and the kitchen misses a coffee machine. He goes straight to the bathroom, where there’s only one toothbrush left and drowns himself in the steamy heat of the shower’s water.
Life becomes dead.
They say he sleeps too much, he finds he’s got nothing better to do with his days. He got fired from his job exactly two days after the huge fight and now he’s living in the apartment all by himself. There’s no reason to clean or cook when he’s the only one around; he can live with some mess and it’s not like he’s hungry anyway. So he spends his days altering between the couch and his bed, choosing either to watch TV or to sleep.
What he really does is ponder over the same question over and over again. Forgive Hyukjae or forgive himself? And…did either of them really do something wrong? Wasn’t it the heat of the moment putting the both of them on edge? Wasn’t it normal for them to react like they had, shouting the first things that came to mind without really thinking about them.
Sure, he never intended to have it lead to this, but sometimes life is a little different than what you expect, and at such times, what can you really do about it, right?
He doesn’t want to let the past be passed anymore, he wants to take it and haul it to the present so that everything will turn right again. He’s useless without the other, just a bag of meat and bones trying to get from one day to the next. It’s been months yet there’s still no change. He found a new job because he had to, but now he’s just filling his days staring at a computer answering phone calls of people who don’t understand the simplest of things about their piece of technology. He answers those questions, solves their problems, while his lay buried under months of separation.
He walks through the park one day, Kyuhyun by his side. They’re entertaining a conversation without actually saying a lot. Kyuhyun’s eyeing the people walking around them, while he focuses on the first signs of the living nature that sprout at his feet. The way the wind blows the smell of blooming flowers into his face makes him fall in love with spring all over again and he’s glad he can share the moment with Kyuhyun - the only one who has cared about him after the breakup.
He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and letting the warm feeling seep into his body. It’s almost magical to be able to walk through a park holding a boy’s hand, with no worries of who might see them and what they might think. Kyuhyun taught him not to care about that. Kyuhyun says they can just as well be good friends to anyone who sees them - which actually is all they are. When he opens his eyes again, he looks into a pair of dark brown ones that he didn’t expect in the city park.
“Hey.” Hyukjae says and he freezes at that familiar voice. Kyuhyun replies with a polite hello, the question in his eyes not reaching him as he stares at Hyukjae. There’s so many memories gushing right back in upon seeing the other’s familiar features, but none of those are real anymore. When he finally regains his composure, he politely nods, before walking past Hyukjae and tugging Kyuhyun along.
He pretends not to see the hurt in Hyukjae’s eyes. He pretends not to see the glances thrown at his hand clinging to Kyuhyun’s. He pretends not to feel the pain in his chest with every step that takes him further away from Hyukjae. He pretends to be happy, just like any other day.
He doesn’t know how they got to this point, after so many months of silence. They’re on the phone, but neither is talking and it feels like his heart is on fire inside his chest. It hurts so much he wants to kick at something, yell at something, but he doesn’t. Instead he listens to the distant breathing of a friend he once had. Hyukjae called him up that evening, out of nowhere, saying he wanted to hear his voice. They sustained some kind of conversation for an awkward fifteen minutes at first but now have been silent for twice that amount of time.
“I think I should sleep.” he speaks through layers of static, waiting for the words to arrive on the other side and the reply to come back to him. In the end it takes another minute before there’s an intake of breath.
“Can you keep the line open? Please?” Hyukjae asks and he feels his eyes go teary again, cursing his own weakness.
“Of course.” he replies even though he wants to refuse. “Of course I can.” There’s another bout of silence, before he sighs. “Goodnight, Hyukjae.”
“Goodnight, Hae.”
With that, he puts down the phone next to his face, finds himself a more comfortable position and tries to sleep. All he can concentrate on is the distant rustle from the telephone line and what he imagines to be the others breathing; hesitant and shaky. He knows Hyukjae’s silently crying, but as much as it tears his heart apart, there’s nothing he can do about that anymore. Hyukjae gave him up months ago and it is better they both know there’s no going back.
“I love you.” he hears Hyukjae whisper when the sobs die down, but he pretends to have fallen asleep already. He has no idea what he should reply to that, because all he knows is being left behind.
Characters: Donghae, Hyukjae
Rating: G
Wordcount: 2.135
Summary: Losing something dear is the wors feeling there is.
A/N: I wrote this because I made a new friend and she seems to bring something to life in me that consists of Eunhae, angst and so many things I just can't explain. I told her I felt like writing broken Eunhae and then I just did. So this is broken Eunhae. It's all angst, all of it, and so far it made two people cry already. Yay. Hope you enjoy. If not... Hope you don't notice me sneaking away at the side to escape your wrath.
- - - - -
There’s something about being sad that is hard to let go of.
Something about crying that makes you want to crawl into a heap of a mess and cry forever.
Something about getting hurt that gets you to take the bloody knife and stab yourself a few times more just because.
Losing something dear is the worst feeling there is. Especially when you’re so utterly convinced you’ll never lose it that you’re too blind to notice it slipping away until it’s gone. There’s a kind of finality in losing what you love the most, a feeling of everything ending, even when you still have so many possibilities to go on. The world seems like a dark place, reality gets turned into a twisted kind of hell and sleep is a sanctuary of peace and happy dreams you never actually want to wake up from.
He’s tired. Tired of trying. Tired of holding on to things he’s being forced to let go of. He’s trying to figure out ways to ease himself out of this thing they have become but it’s not working. It will never work. And somehow, he doesn’t really want it to work. He wants to keep holding on.
They’ve both been screaming at each other for a while now, sore throats, dry mouths, hoarse voices. He doesn’t even remember what started the fight, he just knows that at some point it started and now they’re yelling things the other’s not even listening to anyway.
“I’m sorry.” he whispers, but the other is too busy yelling over the sound of his own disappointment to notice. He feels the tears seeping into his eyes, ready to make their way over his cheeks, but he turns away before they can. He doesn’t want to show how much he still cares, so he takes the other’s angry shouts at his back as he retreats to their room, closing the door behind him and crawling into bed.
He allows himself to cry there, under the compact privacy of the blanket, until he feels like he’s going to pass out because of a lack of oxygen. When he sticks his head out from underneath the blanket, the air in the room is cold on his wet cheeks and he feels stupid for crying over stupid things. He feels stupid for loving a stupid person too, but then again; two stupid people together should match perfectly, no?
He lets his eyes slid closed and tries to sleep, tries to lose himself in the vastness of his imagination, even though he knows he won’t be able to for at least another hour. It’s right when he feels himself float off into oblivion a select few hours later that the sound of the door opening and closing wakes him up completely again. The bed dents a little under the other’s weight and soon there’s fingers gently stroking his cheek, brushing over the skin that’s still sensitive from all the tears.
“You should undress a little.” a soft whisper reaches his ear. “You’re going to be cold tomorrow morning.” He murmurs something of a disagreement, adds some sounds that mean he’s tired and wants to sleep and lets out an annoyed grunt when the fingers don’t go away. The gentleness doesn’t change either, however, and a kiss is pressed on his cheek. “I don’t want to argue over this too, Hae. I’m sorry. Please just take off your jeans at least.”
He doesn’t move at first, but right before he passes out again, he does reach down, unbuttons his pants and kicks them out. It doesn’t take long for cold feet to get pressed against his warm legs and slender arms to be wrapped around his body, making him smile in contentment.
It’s much easier to lean into the touch than he feared it would be and as he hides his face in the crook of the other’s neck, sneaking his arms around the almost non-existing middle, he realises just how much he loves the other and how much he hates arguing with him. It’s moments like these, huddled closely together on the bed, that make him realise why they’re still together.
“I love you.” he whispers to the silence of the other’s heartbeat, stroking gentle fingers through soft hair. He smiles slightly at the insecurity on the other’s lips and kisses away the tears in his eyes. But Hyukjae moves, creating distance and regrets, forcing heartbreaks. He follows, not allowing the other to tear them apart. It has always been like that and will always be like that. And in the end Hyukjae always replies to him with an “I love you too,” satisfying both their hearts.
That’s how it goes. That’s how they’ve made it so far. Hyukjae trying to pull away and him not allowing that. That’s how the world turns for them. He doesn’t count in days anymore, he counts in times he’s gone after the other and brought him back.
Sometimes he thinks that maybe he should just not follow after the other this time around, should just let him walk away and see how far he’ll go before coming back. But he’s afraid to find that the other will never come back at all, so he chases after him every time again.
And no matter how much he’d like to rub it in the other’s face one day; what an incredible moron he’s being and how many times he’s had to save the both of them, he figures it’s no use crying over spilled milk. After all, he likes to keep the past what it is; passed.
“I hate you.” he shouts at one point. “You’re selfish, you don’t ever think about what I feel and you just keep running from this, from us. We’re supposed to be in this together. You and me, TOGETHER.” He’s so hurt that he almost chokes on his words trying to get them out but he doesn’t care. Hyukjae has taken it one step too far this time, hurt him that tad bit too much.
“All you care about is yourself and how your parents would disagree. Well they don’t even know about us, so why are they standing in our way? Because YOU stand in our way, Hyukjae, and I keep pushing you ahead against your will it seems. So fine, I won’t push anymore. I’ll let you be. I’ll let you walk out of this life you don’t really want to be a part of. So go, if you want. Just go.”
He slams the door closed extra loudly as he leaves the apartment, forgetting his jacket and his scarf, but it’s alright, because he doesn’t feel the freezing wind nor the soft snowflakes. His vision is blurred by tears and he walks at random, trying to get himself to calm down.
When he goes back to the apartment several hours later, Hyukjae is gone. The wardrobe is three times as empty as it used to be, the cupboard lacks five pairs of shoes and the kitchen misses a coffee machine. He goes straight to the bathroom, where there’s only one toothbrush left and drowns himself in the steamy heat of the shower’s water.
Life becomes dead.
They say he sleeps too much, he finds he’s got nothing better to do with his days. He got fired from his job exactly two days after the huge fight and now he’s living in the apartment all by himself. There’s no reason to clean or cook when he’s the only one around; he can live with some mess and it’s not like he’s hungry anyway. So he spends his days altering between the couch and his bed, choosing either to watch TV or to sleep.
What he really does is ponder over the same question over and over again. Forgive Hyukjae or forgive himself? And…did either of them really do something wrong? Wasn’t it the heat of the moment putting the both of them on edge? Wasn’t it normal for them to react like they had, shouting the first things that came to mind without really thinking about them.
Sure, he never intended to have it lead to this, but sometimes life is a little different than what you expect, and at such times, what can you really do about it, right?
He doesn’t want to let the past be passed anymore, he wants to take it and haul it to the present so that everything will turn right again. He’s useless without the other, just a bag of meat and bones trying to get from one day to the next. It’s been months yet there’s still no change. He found a new job because he had to, but now he’s just filling his days staring at a computer answering phone calls of people who don’t understand the simplest of things about their piece of technology. He answers those questions, solves their problems, while his lay buried under months of separation.
He walks through the park one day, Kyuhyun by his side. They’re entertaining a conversation without actually saying a lot. Kyuhyun’s eyeing the people walking around them, while he focuses on the first signs of the living nature that sprout at his feet. The way the wind blows the smell of blooming flowers into his face makes him fall in love with spring all over again and he’s glad he can share the moment with Kyuhyun - the only one who has cared about him after the breakup.
He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and letting the warm feeling seep into his body. It’s almost magical to be able to walk through a park holding a boy’s hand, with no worries of who might see them and what they might think. Kyuhyun taught him not to care about that. Kyuhyun says they can just as well be good friends to anyone who sees them - which actually is all they are. When he opens his eyes again, he looks into a pair of dark brown ones that he didn’t expect in the city park.
“Hey.” Hyukjae says and he freezes at that familiar voice. Kyuhyun replies with a polite hello, the question in his eyes not reaching him as he stares at Hyukjae. There’s so many memories gushing right back in upon seeing the other’s familiar features, but none of those are real anymore. When he finally regains his composure, he politely nods, before walking past Hyukjae and tugging Kyuhyun along.
He pretends not to see the hurt in Hyukjae’s eyes. He pretends not to see the glances thrown at his hand clinging to Kyuhyun’s. He pretends not to feel the pain in his chest with every step that takes him further away from Hyukjae. He pretends to be happy, just like any other day.
He doesn’t know how they got to this point, after so many months of silence. They’re on the phone, but neither is talking and it feels like his heart is on fire inside his chest. It hurts so much he wants to kick at something, yell at something, but he doesn’t. Instead he listens to the distant breathing of a friend he once had. Hyukjae called him up that evening, out of nowhere, saying he wanted to hear his voice. They sustained some kind of conversation for an awkward fifteen minutes at first but now have been silent for twice that amount of time.
“I think I should sleep.” he speaks through layers of static, waiting for the words to arrive on the other side and the reply to come back to him. In the end it takes another minute before there’s an intake of breath.
“Can you keep the line open? Please?” Hyukjae asks and he feels his eyes go teary again, cursing his own weakness.
“Of course.” he replies even though he wants to refuse. “Of course I can.” There’s another bout of silence, before he sighs. “Goodnight, Hyukjae.”
“Goodnight, Hae.”
With that, he puts down the phone next to his face, finds himself a more comfortable position and tries to sleep. All he can concentrate on is the distant rustle from the telephone line and what he imagines to be the others breathing; hesitant and shaky. He knows Hyukjae’s silently crying, but as much as it tears his heart apart, there’s nothing he can do about that anymore. Hyukjae gave him up months ago and it is better they both know there’s no going back.
“I love you.” he hears Hyukjae whisper when the sobs die down, but he pretends to have fallen asleep already. He has no idea what he should reply to that, because all he knows is being left behind.
Monday, 29 August 2011
[FIC] I dare you to move
Title: I dare you to move
Characters: Hyukjae, Zhou Mi, Donghae, Heechul, Kibum, Siwon
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 3.314
Summary: They're trying to find the lesser one of all evils
A/N: So this is a story I started writing after reading one of my friend's newest fics. It inspired me to write abstract, vague stuff and this is what came out of that. The title comes from the song I've been listening to non-stop to write this; Dare you to move by Switchfoot. Aside from that I have nothing to say about this. I strangely love the story, especially the ending, which came out after reading one of Tablo's stories. ^^ I wish to warn my readers for character death. Nothing explicitly gross or anything, but people die. That is life.
- - - - -
The world is a dark place.
Literally.
To some it’s normal, they don’t know any better. To others it’s a sign of how much the world has changed since they were born.
He’s one of those that don’t have a clue.
But Heechul, Heechul speaks of wondrous scenes and abstract things like rainbows, or a shiny yellow orb called the sun.
It’s a dark world, but there’s still dreams and if you really want, you can make it big. Or at least that’s what they tell themselves when they lie awake in bed until late at night, trying to act like it’s not all bad and gruesome.
He usually fails at that.
It’s a dark Friday morning when they gather at the corner of the school building, Siwon bringing a few cigarettes, Donghae holding up the lighter he stole from his parents, Hyukjae taking the first drag. Zhou Mi just stands next to Hyukjae and looks at them. His expression is slightly judging, but he doesn’t say a word about it. They all know they’re doing something bad anyway.
“So what are the plans for the long weekend?” Donghae asks and he blows the cigarette smoke back out as he talks. It crinkles up into the air, becoming invisible to their eyes not long after.
They all shrug in reply to the question. There obviously are no plans.
“We could go somewhere together?” Hyukjae suggests. They pretend to think about it, but the answer is clear already. It’s always yes. What else would they do with their time?
“Hang out at the Monster?” Siwon adds like an afterthought and the other two nod in unison.
“Yo, Siwon, Hae, what have you two been up to? Haven’t seen you around lately!” It’s Youngwoon who walks up to them, wraps them in manly hugs and pats their backs rather harshly. Hyukjae is ignored, but he’s used to that. In this world of back alley clubs and spotlights his friends are more famous than he is. It’s not always clear if he cares about it or not.
“Been here and there, nothing much,” Siwon replies to their friend, tough grin on his face. These are their images, the parts they need to play in the theatre that is their lives. Siwon is the tough one, the one who beats up anyone that even dares to touch them. He’s growing more and more into that image lately. “What about you, hyung? Beat up some more people lately?” He laughs, Youngwoon laughs, Donghae does too. Hyukjae stays a little in the background. Zhou Mi didn’t even bother coming.
Zhou Mi is worth even less than Hyukjae in this scenery. He does not fight people, nor does he look angry or scary. Zhou Mi is the lamb of the underground world. You can’t find anyone more innocent than him in the world they live in.
But Siwon is not the only tough one. Donghae is Siwon’s right hand, in some way of speaking. Donghae doesn’t hit people, nor does he have that tough smile, but when he stares at someone long enough, they’ll leave anyway. No one wants to get Donghae angry.
It’s not exactly the fact that Donghae looks scary when he’s angry, or that he has killed someone in the past. What scares them is that he has never been angry before in a world where being angry is the new breathing. There’s nothing to win with kindness. One has to be hard and tough to survive, is what they say.
Donghae is not at all, but only Hyukjae knows this. Not even Siwon does.
“Yah you bastard, try saying that again with my fist in your face!” the tall, well-built man yells at him. Hyukjae merely looks back, eyes ever so cold. Usually he’s not the one to impress people, but there’s a certain absence of fear about him at that moment that makes his opponent hesitate. And hesitation is all it takes in the world they live in.
“I shall repeat myself; you’re a dickhead and you should stay the fuck away from my friends.” Hyukjae speaks then, voice icy, eyes still piercing into the other’s. They stand like that for a moment, before the guy who’s probably twice Hyukjae’s size relaxes and leaves.
Hyukjae calmly turns to the person he just saved then, reaching out a hand and helping the other up. “You alright?” he asks, getting a short nod in reply. The guy he saved is about half a head taller than him, doesn’t look like he’s familiar with the underground life, and smiles with so much innocence still it’s hard to think he’s lived in the same world as them for his whole life.
“You didn’t have to do that.” he speaks once he’s standing steady, voice a kind of caramel smooth with a rough edge to it. “I could’ve taken him on my own.” Hyukjae eyes the other in a scrutinising way, eyes wandering over the smooth face and unharmed skin, before he nods shortly and pulls his hand out of the gentle grip.
“Don’t get yourself in trouble again, okay? The streets are no place for people like you. You’d better stay inside the city walls.” he replies uninterestedly, turning away and walking off. But the stranger calls after him and he stops to look back.
“When I said I could’ve taken him on my own, I meant it. But thanks anyway, Hyukjae-ssi. When you need help one day, I’ll be the one to rescue you instead.” the boy speaks, pulling something out of his back pocket and throwing it at Hyukjae. It’s a pocket knife, the name ‘Kibum’ engraved in it. “Show this to someone important when you need help. People know where to find me.”
There’s a nod, a glimpse of a smirk and then Kibum turns around and walks away, disappearing into some back alley as he goes. Hyukjae is left staring after him, wondering how the hell that guy knows his real name.
“Remember the days when the world was brighter?” Heechul asks one day, something lighting up his eyes, but he shakes his head to that. The elder snorts, before sighing. “Yeah.. No one does.” he speaks then, smiling and lifting a hand to ruffle his hair. “No one does..” he repeats, but the light has left his eyes again.
He watches his hyung often, sitting in the chair close to Heechul’s bed, looking at how the light flashes on his pale skin. There’s so many emotions that Heechul hides. They’re all hiding something, so it’s nothing very surprising, but to him it feels like Heechul doesn’t specifically try to hide anything, his emotions just happen to not be visible to others.
One day Donghae takes a punch for Hyukjae. The fist is supposed to hit Hyukjae unconscious, but instead Donghae jumps in the way, taking it with his back and slamming into the ground. There’s a moment in which everyone stares at the boy on the ground, but then the attacker realises what he’s done and everyone runs as fast as they can.
Hyukjae crouches down in the blink of an eye, rolls his friend over and looks straight at Donghae’s bleeding nose and scraped forehead. The angle of the street light creates shadows under Donghae’s eyes that reflect how little sleep he's had over the past weeks.
Siwon rages at everyone who remains in a too close proximity with them and deals a few punches to people he knows relate to the guy who hit Donghae. Hyukjae watches it with empty eyes as he helps Donghae sit up and wipes the little pieces of gravel off of his friend’s face. He vaguely wonders if Siwon would have reacted like that too if he were the one to take the punch, but drops the idea before it can bring him pain.
When Hyukjae arrives at school the next morning, Zhou Mi’s applying disinfectant on Donghae’s forehead, while Donghae stares at the tall boy in faked annoyance, pretending to be tough. Zhou Mi makes sure he’s done before Siwon arrives.
“Where were you this weekend?” Siwon demands to know and Hyukjae frowns but remains silent, because they never ask questions about the others’ whereabouts. It’s an unwritten rule. “I asked you a question.” Siwon states then, expression darkening. Hyukjae just keeps staring, until the fist comes at him seemingly out of nowhere. He darts out of reach before it can hit him, taking his hands out of his pockets to defend himself if necessary and looking at Siwon in genuine surprise.
“Since when is it any of your business what I do with my weekends?” he asks, voice cold, some of that life in his eyes that surprises Siwon. They are not used to fire and fighting spirit. People are dull, people are tired, people are just trying to end up in the lesser one of all the evils. Hyukjae is starting to look more and more like he’s willing to live and it unsettles Siwon. Donghae merely stays out of it.
Zhou Mi just stands a little aside and looks at them judgingly. He always does.
“Forests were very pretty places. When I was younger my parents would take me on long walks through the forests and I’d play in the mud or chase after wild animals.”
It sounds like a fairytale to him, but Heechul is obviously lost in memories, smiling for once without that hint of regret. It makes him smile too as he runs his fingers through his hair and settles into the chair a little better. He wants to ask something more about those forests and what they looked like, but Heechul’s fallen asleep again, his breathing even.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Siwon hisses, and Donghae tightens his grip on the taller man’s wrist. Siwon doesn’t even try to struggle, he just glares. Hyukjae ignores the hatred seeping out of every part of Siwon’s body. Zhou Mi stands next to them with hurt in his eyes and pleading looks that for some reason keep going to Hyukjae and not to Siwon, as if he’s more scared of what the first will do than of Siwon’s anger.
“Like I said.” Hyukjae states calmly. “I’m talking to one of my acquaintances.” He turns around again then, completely disregarding anything that might be said to him from then on as he walks back to Hangeng - probably one of Siwon’s biggest enemies in the underground scene.
The next thing they know, Siwon throws himself forward and it takes both Donghae, Zhou Mi and two of Hangeng’s friends to stop the fight that ensues. Hyukjae comes out with several bleeding wounds and a look in his eyes that speaks of nothing but disappointment. Siwon realises that whatever he has been seeing in Hyukjae’s eyes for the past weeks, has finally made it further than just his eyes. Hyukjae is no longer the gullible kid they got to know him as.
Sitting in the back of a truck, they look out over a never-ending road that seems to fly by. An endless stream of asphalt and building ruins on the side. Hyukjae’s silent, arms wrapped around his knees that he pulled up against his chest. Zhou Mi’s sitting next to him, head having slouched to the side in his sleep. There’s no one else with them, no Donghae or Siwon, just the two of them.
It doesn’t take long for Zhou Mi to wake up, a bump in the road making him open his eyes in a flash. He looks around drowsily and tries to remember what he’s doing in the car. When he finally does, he stares at the passing road with empty eyes.
“Why are we here?” he asks after a moment of silence, and Hyukjae turns to look at him.
“I don’t know. I wanted to get out of there. Don’t you ever want to get out of that place? It’s all lifeless and dark.” he speaks, making Zhou Mi smile mirthlessly.
“The whole world is dark.” he says, but they both knew that already anyway. “Why did you take me along?” he adds then.
“Because you’re not.” Hyukjae smiles, something in his eyes that reminds Zhou Mi of life.
“I’m not what?” he inquires, trying to understand what his friend is talking about.
“You’re not dark, Mi, not lifeless.” Hyukjae replies then, turning to look at him and smiling still. “You’re alive and you’re hoping to make your life better than what it is now. None of us tries to do that. We just go with how things are. Smoking, drinking, fighting. You do none of that. You smile so genuinely and people call you a moron for it, but you don’t care. You just keep smiling. I don’t want you to have to live in that dark place.”
Zhou Mi hears things between the sentences that Hyukjae can’t bear to say out loud and he easily wraps an arm around the other’s shoulders, allowing Hyukjae to lean into the touch.
Sometimes he asks himself if he could draw a circle on the wall and walk through it. Heechul says anything is possible as long as you believe in it. Reality says it’s a solid stone wall, you can’t walk through that, and if you do try anyway you’ll have a headache. He likes Heechul’s way of thinking more, but still abides by reality’s words, because that is what he lives in.
“Not everything comes flying into your arms.” Heechul tells him, voice having grown hoarser throughout the years they’ve known each other. “But some things do even when you don’t want them to. You can try to outrun something like that, but in the end it’ll catch up with you and you’ll be stuck with it. Life is not a playground. It has become a battlefield.”
He smiles without happiness, runs his fingertips over the armrest of his chair and tries to imagine possible scenarios for every single crack in it. Heechul says something more, but it is in that language he doesn’t understand so he doesn’t listen to it. When he looks up several moments later, Heechul is looking at him with a distant expression on his face. He understands what is being said to him without hearing any words.
“Why didn’t you ask Donghae to come instead of me?” Zhou Mi asks him one day as they sit at the kitchen table eating their instant noodles. The Chinese man’s dark hair is tied into a small ponytail on the back of his head, his dark eyes peering at Hyukjae with a wisdom in them that is beyond his age. He clicks his chopsticks together in front of the other’s face when there’s no immediate response and smiles teasingly. “How often do I have to tell you no to sleep with your eyes open? Eat your food before it’s cold.”
Hyukjae blinks at that, consciously looks at his friend then, and tries to smile back. He fails awkwardly at it. “Donghae...” he speaks in a soft voice when Zhou Mi does not look away. “He cares about Siwon too much. He wouldn’t leave his hyung to go with me.” There’s a sad touch to Hyukjae’s smile, but Zhou Mi knows it’s not because Donghae doesn’t want to come along with him, but because he chooses to live in an environment he’s not made for just so he can be with the one he admires. Hyukjae regrets that Donghae can’t live like they’re doing.
They start to fall into a lifestyle that feels foreign to them, yet is normal for everyone else around them. Finishing up their studies, going to school every day and coming home to either cook dinner or eat what the other has prepared. The one home first makes the food is the golden rule, except for during the weekends, when they mostly just order in. It’s a comfortable existence they have and it works out even after university when they both get a job.
It all changes halfway into their first year of work, when a dark letter is sent by mail. The name on the back is not familiar to Zhou Mi, a certain man with the surname Kim, but Hyukjae pales a little upon seeing it and refuses to even look at it. Zhou Mi is not allowed to touch it either and he doesn’t because it’s addressed to Hyukjae not him. The next day the letter disappears and Hyukjae doesn’t talk about it anymore. That weekend, Zhou Mi wakes up in the middle of the night to a crying Hyukjae on the kitchen floor.
He wraps an arm around the other, pulls the lifeless body against his and hugs it. Hyukjae’s body trembles with soundless sobs, his tears seeming unending. He cries until well past five in the morning and Zhou Mi sits with him, holds him, comforts him. When Hyukjae stops crying, he holds him a little more, until trembling fingers bring a crumbled paper into view. When it unfolds, Zhou Mi read one thing only but needs no more.
‘Lee Donghae’ it says in dark, mysterious font that speaks of endings and silence. Hyukjae doesn’t talk for a whole week and when he finally says something during dinner the next Monday, he pretends nothing happened. Zhou Mi doesn’t try to force reality onto him.
They sit on the balcony one day, looking out over the streets where cars pass by occasionally. Hyukjae hums a song that sounds distantly familiar. It fills them with melancholy.
“How did you get us here?” Zhou Mi asks at some point. “Where did the truck come from that took us?”
“I got help from a friend.” Hyukjae states, staring into the distance. He’s clutching something in his hands that looks like a pocket knife with slight writing on it.
“Do you think I will ever see the sun, hyung?” he asks and Heechul smiles.
“Maybe.. But you shouldn’t hope for too much.” the elder replies, always honest, never giving hope when there is nothing to hope for. He smiles as well then, nodding slightly.
“I guess so.” he replies. Heechul nods too, then closes his eyes. He’ll probably fall asleep again soon.
He looks outside the window at the sky covered in clouds and the streets filled with kids trying to pick the lesser one out of all the evils. He tells himself he tried his best for them, that there’s nothing he can do about it. Even his mind doesn’t believe him when he remembers the grave of an innocent young man who was full of life but chose to die for someone he didn’t even know.
When he looks up at Heechul, the elder is not breathing anymore. He smiles a bitter smile and gets up, pulling the blanket over Heechul’s face. He mumbles something that might or might not be a prayer and walks out of the hospital room to tell a nurse.
One day the news speaks of possibilities that the sky might clear enough above their city to catch a glimpse of the sun. The next day they say the assumption was wrong. No hopes are crushed because no one bothers to hope for these things anymore.
The next week the sky does clear above their city and everyone stays inside because they’re afraid to get burned. Hyukjae goes to the park and stares at the sun all day. Zhou Mi sits next to him with an umbrella shielding him from the sunlight, watching the trees’ shadows wave on the ground. When they go home in the evening, Hyukjae sees black spots everywhere and they laugh when he walks into a street light for the third time.
It sounds foreign even to their own ears, but they do it again the fourth time as well.
Characters: Hyukjae, Zhou Mi, Donghae, Heechul, Kibum, Siwon
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 3.314
Summary: They're trying to find the lesser one of all evils
A/N: So this is a story I started writing after reading one of my friend's newest fics. It inspired me to write abstract, vague stuff and this is what came out of that. The title comes from the song I've been listening to non-stop to write this; Dare you to move by Switchfoot. Aside from that I have nothing to say about this. I strangely love the story, especially the ending, which came out after reading one of Tablo's stories. ^^ I wish to warn my readers for character death. Nothing explicitly gross or anything, but people die. That is life.
- - - - -
The world is a dark place.
Literally.
To some it’s normal, they don’t know any better. To others it’s a sign of how much the world has changed since they were born.
He’s one of those that don’t have a clue.
But Heechul, Heechul speaks of wondrous scenes and abstract things like rainbows, or a shiny yellow orb called the sun.
It’s a dark world, but there’s still dreams and if you really want, you can make it big. Or at least that’s what they tell themselves when they lie awake in bed until late at night, trying to act like it’s not all bad and gruesome.
He usually fails at that.
\/\/\/\/\/
It’s a dark Friday morning when they gather at the corner of the school building, Siwon bringing a few cigarettes, Donghae holding up the lighter he stole from his parents, Hyukjae taking the first drag. Zhou Mi just stands next to Hyukjae and looks at them. His expression is slightly judging, but he doesn’t say a word about it. They all know they’re doing something bad anyway.
“So what are the plans for the long weekend?” Donghae asks and he blows the cigarette smoke back out as he talks. It crinkles up into the air, becoming invisible to their eyes not long after.
They all shrug in reply to the question. There obviously are no plans.
“We could go somewhere together?” Hyukjae suggests. They pretend to think about it, but the answer is clear already. It’s always yes. What else would they do with their time?
“Hang out at the Monster?” Siwon adds like an afterthought and the other two nod in unison.
/\/\/\/\/\
“Yo, Siwon, Hae, what have you two been up to? Haven’t seen you around lately!” It’s Youngwoon who walks up to them, wraps them in manly hugs and pats their backs rather harshly. Hyukjae is ignored, but he’s used to that. In this world of back alley clubs and spotlights his friends are more famous than he is. It’s not always clear if he cares about it or not.
“Been here and there, nothing much,” Siwon replies to their friend, tough grin on his face. These are their images, the parts they need to play in the theatre that is their lives. Siwon is the tough one, the one who beats up anyone that even dares to touch them. He’s growing more and more into that image lately. “What about you, hyung? Beat up some more people lately?” He laughs, Youngwoon laughs, Donghae does too. Hyukjae stays a little in the background. Zhou Mi didn’t even bother coming.
Zhou Mi is worth even less than Hyukjae in this scenery. He does not fight people, nor does he look angry or scary. Zhou Mi is the lamb of the underground world. You can’t find anyone more innocent than him in the world they live in.
But Siwon is not the only tough one. Donghae is Siwon’s right hand, in some way of speaking. Donghae doesn’t hit people, nor does he have that tough smile, but when he stares at someone long enough, they’ll leave anyway. No one wants to get Donghae angry.
It’s not exactly the fact that Donghae looks scary when he’s angry, or that he has killed someone in the past. What scares them is that he has never been angry before in a world where being angry is the new breathing. There’s nothing to win with kindness. One has to be hard and tough to survive, is what they say.
Donghae is not at all, but only Hyukjae knows this. Not even Siwon does.
\/\/\/\/\/
“Yah you bastard, try saying that again with my fist in your face!” the tall, well-built man yells at him. Hyukjae merely looks back, eyes ever so cold. Usually he’s not the one to impress people, but there’s a certain absence of fear about him at that moment that makes his opponent hesitate. And hesitation is all it takes in the world they live in.
“I shall repeat myself; you’re a dickhead and you should stay the fuck away from my friends.” Hyukjae speaks then, voice icy, eyes still piercing into the other’s. They stand like that for a moment, before the guy who’s probably twice Hyukjae’s size relaxes and leaves.
Hyukjae calmly turns to the person he just saved then, reaching out a hand and helping the other up. “You alright?” he asks, getting a short nod in reply. The guy he saved is about half a head taller than him, doesn’t look like he’s familiar with the underground life, and smiles with so much innocence still it’s hard to think he’s lived in the same world as them for his whole life.
“You didn’t have to do that.” he speaks once he’s standing steady, voice a kind of caramel smooth with a rough edge to it. “I could’ve taken him on my own.” Hyukjae eyes the other in a scrutinising way, eyes wandering over the smooth face and unharmed skin, before he nods shortly and pulls his hand out of the gentle grip.
“Don’t get yourself in trouble again, okay? The streets are no place for people like you. You’d better stay inside the city walls.” he replies uninterestedly, turning away and walking off. But the stranger calls after him and he stops to look back.
“When I said I could’ve taken him on my own, I meant it. But thanks anyway, Hyukjae-ssi. When you need help one day, I’ll be the one to rescue you instead.” the boy speaks, pulling something out of his back pocket and throwing it at Hyukjae. It’s a pocket knife, the name ‘Kibum’ engraved in it. “Show this to someone important when you need help. People know where to find me.”
There’s a nod, a glimpse of a smirk and then Kibum turns around and walks away, disappearing into some back alley as he goes. Hyukjae is left staring after him, wondering how the hell that guy knows his real name.
/\/\/\/\/\
“Remember the days when the world was brighter?” Heechul asks one day, something lighting up his eyes, but he shakes his head to that. The elder snorts, before sighing. “Yeah.. No one does.” he speaks then, smiling and lifting a hand to ruffle his hair. “No one does..” he repeats, but the light has left his eyes again.
He watches his hyung often, sitting in the chair close to Heechul’s bed, looking at how the light flashes on his pale skin. There’s so many emotions that Heechul hides. They’re all hiding something, so it’s nothing very surprising, but to him it feels like Heechul doesn’t specifically try to hide anything, his emotions just happen to not be visible to others.
\/\/\/\/\/
One day Donghae takes a punch for Hyukjae. The fist is supposed to hit Hyukjae unconscious, but instead Donghae jumps in the way, taking it with his back and slamming into the ground. There’s a moment in which everyone stares at the boy on the ground, but then the attacker realises what he’s done and everyone runs as fast as they can.
Hyukjae crouches down in the blink of an eye, rolls his friend over and looks straight at Donghae’s bleeding nose and scraped forehead. The angle of the street light creates shadows under Donghae’s eyes that reflect how little sleep he's had over the past weeks.
Siwon rages at everyone who remains in a too close proximity with them and deals a few punches to people he knows relate to the guy who hit Donghae. Hyukjae watches it with empty eyes as he helps Donghae sit up and wipes the little pieces of gravel off of his friend’s face. He vaguely wonders if Siwon would have reacted like that too if he were the one to take the punch, but drops the idea before it can bring him pain.
When Hyukjae arrives at school the next morning, Zhou Mi’s applying disinfectant on Donghae’s forehead, while Donghae stares at the tall boy in faked annoyance, pretending to be tough. Zhou Mi makes sure he’s done before Siwon arrives.
/\/\/\/\/\
“Where were you this weekend?” Siwon demands to know and Hyukjae frowns but remains silent, because they never ask questions about the others’ whereabouts. It’s an unwritten rule. “I asked you a question.” Siwon states then, expression darkening. Hyukjae just keeps staring, until the fist comes at him seemingly out of nowhere. He darts out of reach before it can hit him, taking his hands out of his pockets to defend himself if necessary and looking at Siwon in genuine surprise.
“Since when is it any of your business what I do with my weekends?” he asks, voice cold, some of that life in his eyes that surprises Siwon. They are not used to fire and fighting spirit. People are dull, people are tired, people are just trying to end up in the lesser one of all the evils. Hyukjae is starting to look more and more like he’s willing to live and it unsettles Siwon. Donghae merely stays out of it.
Zhou Mi just stands a little aside and looks at them judgingly. He always does.
\/\/\/\/\/
“Forests were very pretty places. When I was younger my parents would take me on long walks through the forests and I’d play in the mud or chase after wild animals.”
It sounds like a fairytale to him, but Heechul is obviously lost in memories, smiling for once without that hint of regret. It makes him smile too as he runs his fingers through his hair and settles into the chair a little better. He wants to ask something more about those forests and what they looked like, but Heechul’s fallen asleep again, his breathing even.
/\/\/\/\/\
“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Siwon hisses, and Donghae tightens his grip on the taller man’s wrist. Siwon doesn’t even try to struggle, he just glares. Hyukjae ignores the hatred seeping out of every part of Siwon’s body. Zhou Mi stands next to them with hurt in his eyes and pleading looks that for some reason keep going to Hyukjae and not to Siwon, as if he’s more scared of what the first will do than of Siwon’s anger.
“Like I said.” Hyukjae states calmly. “I’m talking to one of my acquaintances.” He turns around again then, completely disregarding anything that might be said to him from then on as he walks back to Hangeng - probably one of Siwon’s biggest enemies in the underground scene.
The next thing they know, Siwon throws himself forward and it takes both Donghae, Zhou Mi and two of Hangeng’s friends to stop the fight that ensues. Hyukjae comes out with several bleeding wounds and a look in his eyes that speaks of nothing but disappointment. Siwon realises that whatever he has been seeing in Hyukjae’s eyes for the past weeks, has finally made it further than just his eyes. Hyukjae is no longer the gullible kid they got to know him as.
\/\/\/\/\/
Sitting in the back of a truck, they look out over a never-ending road that seems to fly by. An endless stream of asphalt and building ruins on the side. Hyukjae’s silent, arms wrapped around his knees that he pulled up against his chest. Zhou Mi’s sitting next to him, head having slouched to the side in his sleep. There’s no one else with them, no Donghae or Siwon, just the two of them.
It doesn’t take long for Zhou Mi to wake up, a bump in the road making him open his eyes in a flash. He looks around drowsily and tries to remember what he’s doing in the car. When he finally does, he stares at the passing road with empty eyes.
“Why are we here?” he asks after a moment of silence, and Hyukjae turns to look at him.
“I don’t know. I wanted to get out of there. Don’t you ever want to get out of that place? It’s all lifeless and dark.” he speaks, making Zhou Mi smile mirthlessly.
“The whole world is dark.” he says, but they both knew that already anyway. “Why did you take me along?” he adds then.
“Because you’re not.” Hyukjae smiles, something in his eyes that reminds Zhou Mi of life.
“I’m not what?” he inquires, trying to understand what his friend is talking about.
“You’re not dark, Mi, not lifeless.” Hyukjae replies then, turning to look at him and smiling still. “You’re alive and you’re hoping to make your life better than what it is now. None of us tries to do that. We just go with how things are. Smoking, drinking, fighting. You do none of that. You smile so genuinely and people call you a moron for it, but you don’t care. You just keep smiling. I don’t want you to have to live in that dark place.”
Zhou Mi hears things between the sentences that Hyukjae can’t bear to say out loud and he easily wraps an arm around the other’s shoulders, allowing Hyukjae to lean into the touch.
/\/\/\/\/\
Sometimes he asks himself if he could draw a circle on the wall and walk through it. Heechul says anything is possible as long as you believe in it. Reality says it’s a solid stone wall, you can’t walk through that, and if you do try anyway you’ll have a headache. He likes Heechul’s way of thinking more, but still abides by reality’s words, because that is what he lives in.
“Not everything comes flying into your arms.” Heechul tells him, voice having grown hoarser throughout the years they’ve known each other. “But some things do even when you don’t want them to. You can try to outrun something like that, but in the end it’ll catch up with you and you’ll be stuck with it. Life is not a playground. It has become a battlefield.”
He smiles without happiness, runs his fingertips over the armrest of his chair and tries to imagine possible scenarios for every single crack in it. Heechul says something more, but it is in that language he doesn’t understand so he doesn’t listen to it. When he looks up several moments later, Heechul is looking at him with a distant expression on his face. He understands what is being said to him without hearing any words.
\/\/\/\/\/
“Why didn’t you ask Donghae to come instead of me?” Zhou Mi asks him one day as they sit at the kitchen table eating their instant noodles. The Chinese man’s dark hair is tied into a small ponytail on the back of his head, his dark eyes peering at Hyukjae with a wisdom in them that is beyond his age. He clicks his chopsticks together in front of the other’s face when there’s no immediate response and smiles teasingly. “How often do I have to tell you no to sleep with your eyes open? Eat your food before it’s cold.”
Hyukjae blinks at that, consciously looks at his friend then, and tries to smile back. He fails awkwardly at it. “Donghae...” he speaks in a soft voice when Zhou Mi does not look away. “He cares about Siwon too much. He wouldn’t leave his hyung to go with me.” There’s a sad touch to Hyukjae’s smile, but Zhou Mi knows it’s not because Donghae doesn’t want to come along with him, but because he chooses to live in an environment he’s not made for just so he can be with the one he admires. Hyukjae regrets that Donghae can’t live like they’re doing.
/\/\/\/\/\
They start to fall into a lifestyle that feels foreign to them, yet is normal for everyone else around them. Finishing up their studies, going to school every day and coming home to either cook dinner or eat what the other has prepared. The one home first makes the food is the golden rule, except for during the weekends, when they mostly just order in. It’s a comfortable existence they have and it works out even after university when they both get a job.
It all changes halfway into their first year of work, when a dark letter is sent by mail. The name on the back is not familiar to Zhou Mi, a certain man with the surname Kim, but Hyukjae pales a little upon seeing it and refuses to even look at it. Zhou Mi is not allowed to touch it either and he doesn’t because it’s addressed to Hyukjae not him. The next day the letter disappears and Hyukjae doesn’t talk about it anymore. That weekend, Zhou Mi wakes up in the middle of the night to a crying Hyukjae on the kitchen floor.
He wraps an arm around the other, pulls the lifeless body against his and hugs it. Hyukjae’s body trembles with soundless sobs, his tears seeming unending. He cries until well past five in the morning and Zhou Mi sits with him, holds him, comforts him. When Hyukjae stops crying, he holds him a little more, until trembling fingers bring a crumbled paper into view. When it unfolds, Zhou Mi read one thing only but needs no more.
‘Lee Donghae’ it says in dark, mysterious font that speaks of endings and silence. Hyukjae doesn’t talk for a whole week and when he finally says something during dinner the next Monday, he pretends nothing happened. Zhou Mi doesn’t try to force reality onto him.
\/\/\/\/\/
They sit on the balcony one day, looking out over the streets where cars pass by occasionally. Hyukjae hums a song that sounds distantly familiar. It fills them with melancholy.
“How did you get us here?” Zhou Mi asks at some point. “Where did the truck come from that took us?”
“I got help from a friend.” Hyukjae states, staring into the distance. He’s clutching something in his hands that looks like a pocket knife with slight writing on it.
/\/\/\/\/\
“Do you think I will ever see the sun, hyung?” he asks and Heechul smiles.
“Maybe.. But you shouldn’t hope for too much.” the elder replies, always honest, never giving hope when there is nothing to hope for. He smiles as well then, nodding slightly.
“I guess so.” he replies. Heechul nods too, then closes his eyes. He’ll probably fall asleep again soon.
He looks outside the window at the sky covered in clouds and the streets filled with kids trying to pick the lesser one out of all the evils. He tells himself he tried his best for them, that there’s nothing he can do about it. Even his mind doesn’t believe him when he remembers the grave of an innocent young man who was full of life but chose to die for someone he didn’t even know.
When he looks up at Heechul, the elder is not breathing anymore. He smiles a bitter smile and gets up, pulling the blanket over Heechul’s face. He mumbles something that might or might not be a prayer and walks out of the hospital room to tell a nurse.
\/\/\/\/\/
One day the news speaks of possibilities that the sky might clear enough above their city to catch a glimpse of the sun. The next day they say the assumption was wrong. No hopes are crushed because no one bothers to hope for these things anymore.
The next week the sky does clear above their city and everyone stays inside because they’re afraid to get burned. Hyukjae goes to the park and stares at the sun all day. Zhou Mi sits next to him with an umbrella shielding him from the sunlight, watching the trees’ shadows wave on the ground. When they go home in the evening, Hyukjae sees black spots everywhere and they laugh when he walks into a street light for the third time.
It sounds foreign even to their own ears, but they do it again the fourth time as well.
[FIC] Shower Troubles
Title: Shower Troubles (Or how Kyuhyun doesn't know how to clean a bathroom)
Characters: Kyuhyun, Donghae, OC
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 3.134
Summary: Kyuhyun's at a loss of why showers need to be cleaned and how.
A/N: This was mildly inspired by me cleaning the bathroom and wondering what it would be like if my brother had a try at it for once. It’s well over 3000 words of crack nonsense that makes no real particular sense. If you squint your eyes a little with the right lighting, you might find some romance in your peripheral view, even, but I’m not going to vouch for that.
Written for a lot of my friends, but also for those people out there who love Kyuhyun and need to get their heads fixed from that mental disease. This is for you guys. ♥
- - - - -
When Kyuhyun’s girlfriend leaves with some yells and banging doors, he isn’t really impressed. He’s had many girlfriends before her and there’s still a lot of girls out there to choose from so he doesn’t worry. It’s not like she’s irreplaceable.
He settles for some instant ramyun that evening, jamming in half an hour of overtime work in order to be done with it the next day before opening his game. It’s a normal evening and he doesn’t really notice his girlfriend’s gone. It really doesn’t feel like something’s missing in the house, in fact, he quite likes the silence and him being able to spend some time online in peace, without someone nagging about laundry and cleaning all the time.
The only female constant in his life is a girl called KimchiFly, or at least that’s her in game username, who he talks to on a regular basis. She’s cool, knows as much about games as he does and a little more about life. But at least she doesn’t push that knowledge in his face like it’s something he’s supposed to know as well.
theKyu: dangit I’m cold
KimchiFly: get a blanket
theKyu: I don’t even know where the blankets are
theKyu: or if I even have blankets
KimchiFly: put on the heater
theKyu: it’s broken
theKyu: I think they cut off my electricity
KimchiFly: then how does your internet still work?
theKyu: …
theKyu: good point
Four days into being single, he starts to miss decent meals and wonders why it seems like the bed is colder than it should be. He takes a moment to remember his girlfriend’s face only to realise he doesn’t remember it. He clearly remembers her voice, though, while that’s the thing he has always tried his best to block out while she was still around.
He goes out that evening, but every girl he chats with ends up being taken already or too uninterested when he mentions computers. The other half he doesn’t talk to is too drunk for his liking, so the fifth day he wakes up in the too cold bed that starts to get a little too big as well.
He starts to get really lonely when there’s a good program on the television that he wants to watch but his feet are freezing and there’s no one with nice, warm legs to press them again and no one makes him some tea.
The next day he moves his television to his room so that he can at least still talk to people online while he’s watching, that way it feels less lonely.
theKyu: how did we meet again?
KimchiFly: I failed at slaying a dragon, you did it for me
KimchiFly: then you told me you’d honour me with becoming my teacher in game
theKyu: oh yeah
theKyu: be honoured.
One month and a half after being dumped, he takes a shower and the water’s not going down the drain well. When he crouches down for a closer inspection, he finds there’s a lot more to showers than just water coming out of the sprayer and disappearing in the hole. Whatever that lot more is, is unclear to him still at this moment in time, but it sure as hell is dirty. He decides he doesn’t want to take a closer look, grabs a towel and leaves the bathroom to find some clothes.
theKyu: hey Kimch
KimchiFly: yeah?
theKyu: what do you know about showers?
KimchiFly: water comes out of them which you wash yourself with?
KimchiFly: what kind of question is this?
KimchiFly: are you drunk again?
theKyu: never mind
…
theKyu: I only had one beer today, by the way
By the time he’s two months into being single, he craves for some decent food, so he decides to give Donghae a call. His hyung gladly drags him out to ‘some cheap place, but they have the best pizza ever, you have to try this, Kyu’ where he shoves two pizzas with undistinguishable toppings down his throat.
Donghae talks a lot and Kyuhyun pretends to listen while he plans some new gaming strategies, but by the end of the evening he realises again why he only ever goes out with Donghae when there’s someone else around to keep him entertained. There’s too much life to his hyung for him to handle. He prefers a silent drink, an occasional word or two, but the continuous stream of words that comes out of Donghae’s mouth is too hard to block out.
To: Girlfriend
From: Kyuhyun
- - - - - - - - - -
Baby, I miss you, why did you leave?
To: Asshole ex-bf
From: Girlfriend
- - - - - - - - - -
Oh, after three months you finally noticed I’m gone?
Fuck you, Kyuhyun, I hope you die.
“Hyung what the hell is wrong with my shower?” He nags at Donghae over the phone one day. (talking to him over the phone is safer, he can just hang up when he gets tired of the other’s rambles and pretend the line went dead the next time they talk)
“What do you mean what’s wrong with it?” Donghae asks, obvious confusion in his voice.
“The water’s not running through well and there’s no water coming out of a few holes of the sprayer where it is supposed to come out!” He complains and Donghae sighs on the other side of the line.
“Clean it, Kyuhyun, it’s dirty,” he then says and Kyuhyun wants to curse at him, because really, he didn’t notice that yet! Note the sarcasm.
“Well why the hell is it dirty!?” He almost yells, but Donghae remains calm. Of course Donghae remains calm. He deals with dirty showers and toilets daily, working part time as a concierge in some nearby sporting hall because he needs the money. Kyuhyun needs the money too, but he at least found a decent job that suits his style; research and development at some high tech electronics company.
“Showers do that, Kyuhyun,” Donghae explains meanwhile, something Kyuhyun almost misses because he’s too busy cursing at the other in his mind. “When you use them for a while and don’t clean them they get dirty. You have to clean it.”
“But I never had to in the past!” Kyuhyun protests, five seconds before he realises Donghae’s using an didactic tone to him.
“What do you think your girlfriends did while you were flirting with other girls online?”
He hangs up on Donghae, promises himself not to talk to him for the next month or so and gets back to gaming. It’s just dirt, he tells himself, he can live with it.
There’s no way he’s going to pay someone to get the shower back to how it should be, so he takes his book with addresses one day, set on digging up someone useful. He starts flipping through the pages, finding names he doesn’t even remember anymore after so many years. There’s some names he does remember, though, and he jots them down on a paper. Everyone’s worth a try, he figures, even that fat one from a few years ago. She wasn’t fat when he dated her, but since then has grown quite a few extra kilos. He knows this because she e-mailed him that one day. As if it was his fault and he wanted to do something about it.
He also finds a post it with a number and Call me! written below it. He figures it must be someone that is okay with just a one evening thing, or else they wouldn’t leave post its, so he decides to give the number a try.
To: 0945832934
From: Kyuhyun
- - - - - - - - - -
Hey, it’s been a while. Want to meet up?
To: Kyuhyunnie
From: 0945832934
- - - - - - - - - -
Oh baby you’re right, it’s been too long!
I asked your appa and we can meet you this weekend.
Should we come to your apartment?
To: Mom x___x
From: Kyuhyun
- - - - - - - - - -
I’m sorry mom, something just came up.
Maybe another time.
Tell dad I said hi.
He doesn’t touch numbers without names anymore after that. He does, however, try numbers that do have names and one of them is a girlfriend that he remembers from roughly a year and a half ago. He counts back and figures she must have been like girlfriend number somewhere in the twenty. Her name was Baek Jan Di or something like that. He remembers her because she made the most delicious chicken fried rice he has ever tasted in his life. So he decides to send her a text, but doesn’t really know how to go about the making up thing. They didn’t part in the friendliest of moods.
To: Jan Di
From: Kyuhyun
- - - - - - - - - -
Hey you. :) I’m sorry we lost contact. I suffered from cancer for the past year, but I’m better now. Want to meet up?
To: Kyuhyun wtf?
From: Jan Di
- - - - - - - - -
I’m sorry to hear that. I wish I had known so I could have come by and show you how much I don’t give a shit. My boyfriend would love to get introduced to you properly, though.
Microwave chicken fried rice isn’t all too bad either, he decides. He’s not THAT desperate for a clean shower anyway.
He’s well past half of the ex-girlfriends on his list -all having given him disappointing answers which were...well, disappointing- when he grows tired of the whole thing and decides to do it himself. He walks into the bathroom, breathes in the distinct smell of a room that hasn’t been entered or decently cleaned in a month and walks right back out.
Four months after the break up, he grows tired of washing his hair above the kitchen sink (he feels cleaner that way than when he showers) so he invites Donghae to go swimming. They swim a few lengths (or Donghae does, he stays in the shallow part and tries to remember what swimming was like again - paddle your hands, stamp your feet?) and then go for the showers. He takes a long shower, washing himself from head to toe, and takes his time to dry his hair adequately before he leaves the building. Donghae says nothing about it, but he’s giving Kyuhyun judging looks that are ignored. Kyuhyun hasn’t felt so clean and fresh in weeks.
KimchiFly: you should clean your apartment
theKyu: my apartment is fine
KimchiFly: I bet it’s covered in dust, except for that square metre your desk chair is on
theKyu: as if you know what my apartment looks like
…
KimchiFly: you use a vacuum cleaner to clean the house
KimchiFly: just so you know
theKyu: wtf? I didn’t ask anything
KimchiFly: but you WERE wondering
KimchiFly: you’re welcome for telling you
theKyu: you’re such an ass >.>
KimchiFly: love you too <3
Cinderella: u 2 r so married
theKyu: stop creeping on our conversations rella
“Donghae,” he exclaims once the other picks up and he swears he can hear a sigh on the other end.
“I’m not going swimming with you again unless you’re actually going to swim, Kyuhyun.” Donghae tells him before he can even get to the point of the conversation. “Besides I have a girlfriend now. I don’t have time to jump at your every whim.” Kyuhyun’s offended, at the very least.
“What? What are you talking about, I wasn’t calling you to go swimming. How ridiculous would that be? We just went t-” Suddenly he realises what else has been said to him. “Wait. You have a girlfriend? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did, about.. Let me count..two weeks ago. That time when you accidentally texted me instead of whoever you wanted to coax into having wine at your place.” Donghae explains, seeming bored with him. He huffs, but doesn’t go further into it. That was a rather embarrassing experience after all.
“Anyway,” he therefore changes the subject. “I wasn’t calling you about swimming. I wanted to know what stuff you use to clean those .. things you clean.”
“You what?” Donghae sounds genuinely surprised, and then ruins it a little more when he starts spouting nonsense. “You want to clean? Are you sure? Did you hit your head? Is the hygiene police holding a gun against your head telling you to clean? Did an alien take over your mind?”
“I want to make sure whoever is going to clean for me will have the right things to clean with. Just tell me hyung!” He protests and Donghae sighs, but at least obliges.
Five months into the life of a single man, he wanders into the bathroom, fully equipped with a mouth mask, rubber gloves, a cleaning towel, two bottles of lime out (the names people come up with for things lately) and a bucket with warm water. He walks over to the little sink first, but changes his mind halfway and goes for the shower. His first problem is to somehow get the draining hole free again, so he leans down once he reaches it, only to get back up and almost choke on his own coughing.
His next attempt is better coordinated. First he puts the bucket down, then the bottles of lime out. He kneels down next to his shower (it takes about four minutes before he gets over the fact that it’s all hairy and dusty there) and gives the draining hole another close inspection. He reaches out for it, but stops moments later, stares at it once more and then gets up, fleeing the bathroom.
KimchiFly: I went to the troll cave once
KimchiFly: instant death for sure
theKyu: I swear
Cinderella: so I shouldn’t go there?
Cinderella: hey Kyu
theKyu: showers are the spawn of hell
Cinderella: you still nagging about those showers?
Cinderella: dude get a grip
theKyu: shut up, rella
KimchiFly: no Cin, better don’t go there
KimchiFly: try the Rockfields
KimchiFly: hey kyu
KimchiFly: what did the shower do this time
theKyu: nothing!
theKyu: it’s still the same!
theKyu: it still smells
theKyu: and keeps being dirty
theKyu: tried cleaning it
theKyu: but seriously.. yuck
theKyu: how can anyone stand that?
Cinderella: that’s why they hire cleaning ladies
theKyu: but the shower’s supposed to be clean!
theKyu: and now you tell me I should pay someone to make it how it’s SUPPOSED TO BE?
Cinderella: welcome to life
theKyu: oh go diaf
Two days later he’s back at the shower, face mask and gloves on again, but this time armed with a pair of chopsticks as well. He sits as far away as he possibly can, stretching out his arm to the furthest and carefully picking at the hair that is cluttering the hole. When he finally gets hold of it, he pushes it up, only to stare in horror as he sees the glue-y white bits in between and even some smelly water still dripping off. Moments later he’s running out of the bathroom as fast as he can, trying hard not to throw up in the middle of his hallway.
To: Hae
From: Kyuhyun
- - - - - - - - - -
I’m going to kill myself. It was nice knowing you, Hae.
To: Kyu
From: Donghae
- - - - - - - - - -
Even in your last text not calling me hyung? I’m disappointed.
Why so melodramatic, though?
To: Hae
From: Kyuhyun
- - - - - - - - - -
HOW THE HELL DO I CLEAN A BATHROOM?
To: Kyu
From: Donghae
- - - - - - - - - -
Seriously?
To: Kyu
From: Donghae
- - - - - - - - - -
Seriously!?
To: Kyu
From: Donghae
- - - - - - - - - -
SERIOUSLY?
To: Kyu
From: Donghae
- - - - - - - - - -
You’re weak man. It’s just a shower.
You kill ogre trolls for breakfast.
To: Hae
From: Kyuhyun
- - - - - - - - - -
Shut up.
I hate you.
I hope you die.
He’s devastated, considers moving just so he can have a clean bathroom again, but then who would buy an apartment with a dirty bathroom? (and honestly, everything else is dirty too) He’s flicking paper balls at his television screen on which some dude is explaining the things going wrong in the world. He’s not gaming because Kimchi isn’t on and he’s pretty sure that if he has to listen to Cinderella’s complaints for even five minutes, he’s going to grab a gun and kill him – guild member or not.
Suddenly the doorbell rings.
“Hey Kyuhyun. I’m here to clean your bathroom.” some girl says, all smiles and happy waves, taking a step inside and hugging his neck for a moment. He can only stare, watching her as she lets go again. She looks at him as if she expects him to say something but he’s too busy figuring out if he’s awake or dreaming to notice. “You okay?” she then asks, feeling his forehead, which is probably the moment when he snaps back to reality.
He looks at her again, really looks at her, and there’s a sense of familiarity, so he starts counting back faces of his ex-girlfriends, trying to see if she’s in that row as well. He keeps counting and counting, until he stops all the way back at number one, when he was seventeen and she was eighteen and she took his hand and pulled him in for his very first kiss. He remembers three sunny months, before they had to part and go to college.
“What is this?” he finally manages to blurt out, blinking at her rather awkwardly. “How did you know where I live? Why do you think my bathroom needs cleaning?” She laughs, pricks a finger in his nose and easily walks past him, finding her way to his bathroom as if she’s been living in the apartment all her life. He stumbles after her to see what she’s up to.
“Who do you think you’ve been nagging at about it for the past six months?” she tells him happily. He stops when he realises what she just said, mouth agape and staring.
“Kimch?” he then questions, disbelief in his voice. Moments later her head pops out from the bathroom again, signature wide grin that he knows so well plastered on her face as she blows a kiss at him and disappears again.
“The one and only.”
Characters: Kyuhyun, Donghae, OC
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 3.134
Summary: Kyuhyun's at a loss of why showers need to be cleaned and how.
A/N: This was mildly inspired by me cleaning the bathroom and wondering what it would be like if my brother had a try at it for once. It’s well over 3000 words of crack nonsense that makes no real particular sense. If you squint your eyes a little with the right lighting, you might find some romance in your peripheral view, even, but I’m not going to vouch for that.
Written for a lot of my friends, but also for those people out there who love Kyuhyun and need to get their heads fixed from that mental disease. This is for you guys. ♥
- - - - -
When Kyuhyun’s girlfriend leaves with some yells and banging doors, he isn’t really impressed. He’s had many girlfriends before her and there’s still a lot of girls out there to choose from so he doesn’t worry. It’s not like she’s irreplaceable.
He settles for some instant ramyun that evening, jamming in half an hour of overtime work in order to be done with it the next day before opening his game. It’s a normal evening and he doesn’t really notice his girlfriend’s gone. It really doesn’t feel like something’s missing in the house, in fact, he quite likes the silence and him being able to spend some time online in peace, without someone nagging about laundry and cleaning all the time.
The only female constant in his life is a girl called KimchiFly, or at least that’s her in game username, who he talks to on a regular basis. She’s cool, knows as much about games as he does and a little more about life. But at least she doesn’t push that knowledge in his face like it’s something he’s supposed to know as well.
theKyu: dangit I’m cold
KimchiFly: get a blanket
theKyu: I don’t even know where the blankets are
theKyu: or if I even have blankets
KimchiFly: put on the heater
theKyu: it’s broken
theKyu: I think they cut off my electricity
KimchiFly: then how does your internet still work?
theKyu: …
theKyu: good point
Four days into being single, he starts to miss decent meals and wonders why it seems like the bed is colder than it should be. He takes a moment to remember his girlfriend’s face only to realise he doesn’t remember it. He clearly remembers her voice, though, while that’s the thing he has always tried his best to block out while she was still around.
He goes out that evening, but every girl he chats with ends up being taken already or too uninterested when he mentions computers. The other half he doesn’t talk to is too drunk for his liking, so the fifth day he wakes up in the too cold bed that starts to get a little too big as well.
He starts to get really lonely when there’s a good program on the television that he wants to watch but his feet are freezing and there’s no one with nice, warm legs to press them again and no one makes him some tea.
The next day he moves his television to his room so that he can at least still talk to people online while he’s watching, that way it feels less lonely.
theKyu: how did we meet again?
KimchiFly: I failed at slaying a dragon, you did it for me
KimchiFly: then you told me you’d honour me with becoming my teacher in game
theKyu: oh yeah
theKyu: be honoured.
One month and a half after being dumped, he takes a shower and the water’s not going down the drain well. When he crouches down for a closer inspection, he finds there’s a lot more to showers than just water coming out of the sprayer and disappearing in the hole. Whatever that lot more is, is unclear to him still at this moment in time, but it sure as hell is dirty. He decides he doesn’t want to take a closer look, grabs a towel and leaves the bathroom to find some clothes.
theKyu: hey Kimch
KimchiFly: yeah?
theKyu: what do you know about showers?
KimchiFly: water comes out of them which you wash yourself with?
KimchiFly: what kind of question is this?
KimchiFly: are you drunk again?
theKyu: never mind
…
theKyu: I only had one beer today, by the way
By the time he’s two months into being single, he craves for some decent food, so he decides to give Donghae a call. His hyung gladly drags him out to ‘some cheap place, but they have the best pizza ever, you have to try this, Kyu’ where he shoves two pizzas with undistinguishable toppings down his throat.
Donghae talks a lot and Kyuhyun pretends to listen while he plans some new gaming strategies, but by the end of the evening he realises again why he only ever goes out with Donghae when there’s someone else around to keep him entertained. There’s too much life to his hyung for him to handle. He prefers a silent drink, an occasional word or two, but the continuous stream of words that comes out of Donghae’s mouth is too hard to block out.
To: Girlfriend
From: Kyuhyun
- - - - - - - - - -
Baby, I miss you, why did you leave?
To: Asshole ex-bf
From: Girlfriend
- - - - - - - - - -
Oh, after three months you finally noticed I’m gone?
Fuck you, Kyuhyun, I hope you die.
“Hyung what the hell is wrong with my shower?” He nags at Donghae over the phone one day. (talking to him over the phone is safer, he can just hang up when he gets tired of the other’s rambles and pretend the line went dead the next time they talk)
“What do you mean what’s wrong with it?” Donghae asks, obvious confusion in his voice.
“The water’s not running through well and there’s no water coming out of a few holes of the sprayer where it is supposed to come out!” He complains and Donghae sighs on the other side of the line.
“Clean it, Kyuhyun, it’s dirty,” he then says and Kyuhyun wants to curse at him, because really, he didn’t notice that yet! Note the sarcasm.
“Well why the hell is it dirty!?” He almost yells, but Donghae remains calm. Of course Donghae remains calm. He deals with dirty showers and toilets daily, working part time as a concierge in some nearby sporting hall because he needs the money. Kyuhyun needs the money too, but he at least found a decent job that suits his style; research and development at some high tech electronics company.
“Showers do that, Kyuhyun,” Donghae explains meanwhile, something Kyuhyun almost misses because he’s too busy cursing at the other in his mind. “When you use them for a while and don’t clean them they get dirty. You have to clean it.”
“But I never had to in the past!” Kyuhyun protests, five seconds before he realises Donghae’s using an didactic tone to him.
“What do you think your girlfriends did while you were flirting with other girls online?”
He hangs up on Donghae, promises himself not to talk to him for the next month or so and gets back to gaming. It’s just dirt, he tells himself, he can live with it.
There’s no way he’s going to pay someone to get the shower back to how it should be, so he takes his book with addresses one day, set on digging up someone useful. He starts flipping through the pages, finding names he doesn’t even remember anymore after so many years. There’s some names he does remember, though, and he jots them down on a paper. Everyone’s worth a try, he figures, even that fat one from a few years ago. She wasn’t fat when he dated her, but since then has grown quite a few extra kilos. He knows this because she e-mailed him that one day. As if it was his fault and he wanted to do something about it.
He also finds a post it with a number and Call me! written below it. He figures it must be someone that is okay with just a one evening thing, or else they wouldn’t leave post its, so he decides to give the number a try.
To: 0945832934
From: Kyuhyun
- - - - - - - - - -
Hey, it’s been a while. Want to meet up?
To: Kyuhyunnie
From: 0945832934
- - - - - - - - - -
Oh baby you’re right, it’s been too long!
I asked your appa and we can meet you this weekend.
Should we come to your apartment?
To: Mom x___x
From: Kyuhyun
- - - - - - - - - -
I’m sorry mom, something just came up.
Maybe another time.
Tell dad I said hi.
He doesn’t touch numbers without names anymore after that. He does, however, try numbers that do have names and one of them is a girlfriend that he remembers from roughly a year and a half ago. He counts back and figures she must have been like girlfriend number somewhere in the twenty. Her name was Baek Jan Di or something like that. He remembers her because she made the most delicious chicken fried rice he has ever tasted in his life. So he decides to send her a text, but doesn’t really know how to go about the making up thing. They didn’t part in the friendliest of moods.
To: Jan Di
From: Kyuhyun
- - - - - - - - - -
Hey you. :) I’m sorry we lost contact. I suffered from cancer for the past year, but I’m better now. Want to meet up?
To: Kyuhyun wtf?
From: Jan Di
- - - - - - - - -
I’m sorry to hear that. I wish I had known so I could have come by and show you how much I don’t give a shit. My boyfriend would love to get introduced to you properly, though.
Microwave chicken fried rice isn’t all too bad either, he decides. He’s not THAT desperate for a clean shower anyway.
He’s well past half of the ex-girlfriends on his list -all having given him disappointing answers which were...well, disappointing- when he grows tired of the whole thing and decides to do it himself. He walks into the bathroom, breathes in the distinct smell of a room that hasn’t been entered or decently cleaned in a month and walks right back out.
Four months after the break up, he grows tired of washing his hair above the kitchen sink (he feels cleaner that way than when he showers) so he invites Donghae to go swimming. They swim a few lengths (or Donghae does, he stays in the shallow part and tries to remember what swimming was like again - paddle your hands, stamp your feet?) and then go for the showers. He takes a long shower, washing himself from head to toe, and takes his time to dry his hair adequately before he leaves the building. Donghae says nothing about it, but he’s giving Kyuhyun judging looks that are ignored. Kyuhyun hasn’t felt so clean and fresh in weeks.
KimchiFly: you should clean your apartment
theKyu: my apartment is fine
KimchiFly: I bet it’s covered in dust, except for that square metre your desk chair is on
theKyu: as if you know what my apartment looks like
…
KimchiFly: you use a vacuum cleaner to clean the house
KimchiFly: just so you know
theKyu: wtf? I didn’t ask anything
KimchiFly: but you WERE wondering
KimchiFly: you’re welcome for telling you
theKyu: you’re such an ass >.>
KimchiFly: love you too <3
Cinderella: u 2 r so married
theKyu: stop creeping on our conversations rella
“Donghae,” he exclaims once the other picks up and he swears he can hear a sigh on the other end.
“I’m not going swimming with you again unless you’re actually going to swim, Kyuhyun.” Donghae tells him before he can even get to the point of the conversation. “Besides I have a girlfriend now. I don’t have time to jump at your every whim.” Kyuhyun’s offended, at the very least.
“What? What are you talking about, I wasn’t calling you to go swimming. How ridiculous would that be? We just went t-” Suddenly he realises what else has been said to him. “Wait. You have a girlfriend? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did, about.. Let me count..two weeks ago. That time when you accidentally texted me instead of whoever you wanted to coax into having wine at your place.” Donghae explains, seeming bored with him. He huffs, but doesn’t go further into it. That was a rather embarrassing experience after all.
“Anyway,” he therefore changes the subject. “I wasn’t calling you about swimming. I wanted to know what stuff you use to clean those .. things you clean.”
“You what?” Donghae sounds genuinely surprised, and then ruins it a little more when he starts spouting nonsense. “You want to clean? Are you sure? Did you hit your head? Is the hygiene police holding a gun against your head telling you to clean? Did an alien take over your mind?”
“I want to make sure whoever is going to clean for me will have the right things to clean with. Just tell me hyung!” He protests and Donghae sighs, but at least obliges.
Five months into the life of a single man, he wanders into the bathroom, fully equipped with a mouth mask, rubber gloves, a cleaning towel, two bottles of lime out (the names people come up with for things lately) and a bucket with warm water. He walks over to the little sink first, but changes his mind halfway and goes for the shower. His first problem is to somehow get the draining hole free again, so he leans down once he reaches it, only to get back up and almost choke on his own coughing.
His next attempt is better coordinated. First he puts the bucket down, then the bottles of lime out. He kneels down next to his shower (it takes about four minutes before he gets over the fact that it’s all hairy and dusty there) and gives the draining hole another close inspection. He reaches out for it, but stops moments later, stares at it once more and then gets up, fleeing the bathroom.
KimchiFly: I went to the troll cave once
KimchiFly: instant death for sure
theKyu: I swear
Cinderella: so I shouldn’t go there?
Cinderella: hey Kyu
theKyu: showers are the spawn of hell
Cinderella: you still nagging about those showers?
Cinderella: dude get a grip
theKyu: shut up, rella
KimchiFly: no Cin, better don’t go there
KimchiFly: try the Rockfields
KimchiFly: hey kyu
KimchiFly: what did the shower do this time
theKyu: nothing!
theKyu: it’s still the same!
theKyu: it still smells
theKyu: and keeps being dirty
theKyu: tried cleaning it
theKyu: but seriously.. yuck
theKyu: how can anyone stand that?
Cinderella: that’s why they hire cleaning ladies
theKyu: but the shower’s supposed to be clean!
theKyu: and now you tell me I should pay someone to make it how it’s SUPPOSED TO BE?
Cinderella: welcome to life
theKyu: oh go diaf
Two days later he’s back at the shower, face mask and gloves on again, but this time armed with a pair of chopsticks as well. He sits as far away as he possibly can, stretching out his arm to the furthest and carefully picking at the hair that is cluttering the hole. When he finally gets hold of it, he pushes it up, only to stare in horror as he sees the glue-y white bits in between and even some smelly water still dripping off. Moments later he’s running out of the bathroom as fast as he can, trying hard not to throw up in the middle of his hallway.
To: Hae
From: Kyuhyun
- - - - - - - - - -
I’m going to kill myself. It was nice knowing you, Hae.
To: Kyu
From: Donghae
- - - - - - - - - -
Even in your last text not calling me hyung? I’m disappointed.
Why so melodramatic, though?
To: Hae
From: Kyuhyun
- - - - - - - - - -
HOW THE HELL DO I CLEAN A BATHROOM?
To: Kyu
From: Donghae
- - - - - - - - - -
Seriously?
To: Kyu
From: Donghae
- - - - - - - - - -
Seriously!?
To: Kyu
From: Donghae
- - - - - - - - - -
SERIOUSLY?
To: Kyu
From: Donghae
- - - - - - - - - -
You’re weak man. It’s just a shower.
You kill ogre trolls for breakfast.
To: Hae
From: Kyuhyun
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Shut up.
I hate you.
I hope you die.
He’s devastated, considers moving just so he can have a clean bathroom again, but then who would buy an apartment with a dirty bathroom? (and honestly, everything else is dirty too) He’s flicking paper balls at his television screen on which some dude is explaining the things going wrong in the world. He’s not gaming because Kimchi isn’t on and he’s pretty sure that if he has to listen to Cinderella’s complaints for even five minutes, he’s going to grab a gun and kill him – guild member or not.
Suddenly the doorbell rings.
“Hey Kyuhyun. I’m here to clean your bathroom.” some girl says, all smiles and happy waves, taking a step inside and hugging his neck for a moment. He can only stare, watching her as she lets go again. She looks at him as if she expects him to say something but he’s too busy figuring out if he’s awake or dreaming to notice. “You okay?” she then asks, feeling his forehead, which is probably the moment when he snaps back to reality.
He looks at her again, really looks at her, and there’s a sense of familiarity, so he starts counting back faces of his ex-girlfriends, trying to see if she’s in that row as well. He keeps counting and counting, until he stops all the way back at number one, when he was seventeen and she was eighteen and she took his hand and pulled him in for his very first kiss. He remembers three sunny months, before they had to part and go to college.
“What is this?” he finally manages to blurt out, blinking at her rather awkwardly. “How did you know where I live? Why do you think my bathroom needs cleaning?” She laughs, pricks a finger in his nose and easily walks past him, finding her way to his bathroom as if she’s been living in the apartment all her life. He stumbles after her to see what she’s up to.
“Who do you think you’ve been nagging at about it for the past six months?” she tells him happily. He stops when he realises what she just said, mouth agape and staring.
“Kimch?” he then questions, disbelief in his voice. Moments later her head pops out from the bathroom again, signature wide grin that he knows so well plastered on her face as she blows a kiss at him and disappears again.
“The one and only.”
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