Title: The difficulty of Kyu & Mi ( or how many people it takes for QMi to happen )
Characters: Everyone!Mi but eventually QMi
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 3.383
Summary: Zhou Mi has long found out that he doesn’t fall for a specific gender, he falls for people.
A/N: I started this weeks ago with the intention of writing something nice for my two friends who like QMi, but then there was literally EVERY Mi pairing my mind could come up with involved and right as I got to the part where there was supposed to be QMi, I blanked out. So much later I watched several sets of QMi pics and vids and finally this came rolling out, more words of QMi than all the other pairings involved. All for you, Frances & Krisy. ♥
- - - - -
Characters
Zhou Mi; because he’s what it’s (almost) all about
Heechul; because he made his way into this story even before I had an idea for it
Donghae; BECAUSE DUDE WHY THE HELL ARE YOU EVEN IN HERE >:(
Hyukjae; because HyukMi is one of the most awkwardly cute things ever
Kyuhyun; because YES THERE’S QMI IT’S REALLY ACTUALLY THERE!!!
- - - - -
Zhou Mi has long found out that he doesn’t fall for a specific gender, he falls for people. It doesn’t matter whether they are tall or short, boy or girl, blond or brown. He merely expects some conversational abilities at least and some kind of emotional understanding. Because he does have a lot of emotions and he needs someone to understand them. And even though he has amazing friends, most of them would never understand the complexity of his inner self.
But actually, if he is completely honest to himself, he mostly falls for good kissers. He loves kissing; lips touching, tongues sneaking, hands wandering. He likes the way the others would lean in, succumb to his touches, melt against his body as he coaxes them with gentle conviction. There isn’t the least bit of embarrassment in him when admitting that the moment the other one would give in to him was one of the moments he loves most.
In the end he realises, though, that he has somehow always expected to end up with a girl; society and the likes. He isn’t up for being judged for the rest of his life. Because no matter what his parents said about supporting him, he’d never forget the look on their faces when he first told them he liked guys too. Not necessarily the fact that he liked guys made them look like that, but the way he said ‘too,’ as if having interest in both genders was the same as telling them he had slept with every person he had met so far.
Which wasn’t true at the time, by the way, not that they were interested, but he wasn’t really up for going past kissing yet back then. At least not with anyone he had met so far. Kissing boys was quite the same as kissing girls. What came after that was vastly different and he wasn’t too sure yet if he wanted to find out exactly HOW different (and which one of the two would appeal to him more). New things were always strange to begin with.
Like the first time he actually kissed a boy. He still remembered that day as if it was just yesterday, Heechul walking up to him and kissing him full on the mouth. And he had responded, surprisingly, he’s pretty sure that the other had not actually expected him to do so either. But the two of them dating because of it was even less expected.
They matched well, though; Heechul’s eccentricity and his patience leveled each other out nicely. Everyone called them a dream pair, Zhou Mi the only one able to handle Heechul’s weird moodswings and unexpected ideas, Heechul the only one to understand Zhou Mi’s eye for fashion. They had love between them, and trust, two of the most important things in relationships, and Heechul was a great kisser, honestly, when he put some effort into it.
But it wasn’t meant to last, that much was clear. They didn’t lack love or trust, and so Heechul trusted Zhou Mi enough to tell him he had fallen in love with someone else. And Zhou Mi loved Heechul enough to find that someone and make the two of them end up together. A week later he no longer had a boyfriend, but he had a very close friend who was intensely happy with his new love.
Since then there had been several, boys and girls alike, who had won his heart, but none of them lasted forever. Five months, nine months, a year, two weeks (she cheated on him),... He grew throughout those relationships, as a boyfriend and as a person, but he never managed to not get tired of them. He told himself it was because nothing ever happened in his life, he knew it was because he had dated Heechul and after that, everyone became normal and boring.
It was several years after his little romance with Heechul when he met Donghae. Happy, childlike, genuine Donghae. Also straighter than a straight line, sadly, or he would’ve taken his chances with the boy. They got along well, Donghae accepted everyone just the way they came and Zhou Mi found the other too endearing to get annoyed by anyway. Despite Heechul telling him several times to just kiss the guy and get it over with, Zhou Mi never did, respecting Donghae’s choices. Besides, they were more of brothers than lovers anyway.
But apparently Donghae was smarter than he looked, however, because one day the younger pulled him along to go meet someone. He was dragged into some dance class where a blond guy was dancing to some upbeat music, limbs moving so fluently as if dancing was the same as breathing. It made Zhou Mi’s heart skip a beat and he wasn’t able to take his eyes away from the guy for the rest of the song.
His name was Hyukjae, Donghae said, a friend - cousin? acquaintance? brother? He didn’t really catch the rest anymore as Hyukjae stopped dancing right then and walked up to them, flashing one of the cutest gummy smiles ever Zhou Mi’s way. A wave, an introduction by Donghae and some awkward mumbling later, Donghae left the two of them alone to get to know each other.
Hyukjae turned out to be every bit the contradiction Donghae was, childlike yet wise, happy yet thoughtful, making rash comments one moment then blushing shyly as Zhou Mi complimented him. Hyukjae was adorable and Zhou Mi wanted to pocket him forever. Hyukjae was also not as straight as Donghae, so he it was way easier to walk up to him one day and kiss him.
It was all awkward and his legs were too long while Hyukjae was too short, their noses bumped, Hyukjae managed to bite his lip somehow and they ended up stumbling down into a mess of tangled limbs on the floor, giggling uncontrollably over their own clumsiness. But Hyukjae was a good kisser and a great dancer and every time he looked at him, Zhou Mi found his heart skipping a beat.
They lasted a good five months of awkward kisses, cute shyness and comfortable cuddling on the couch before his heart got tired of skipping. He settled into the relationship nicely and he loved Hyukjae, but that was about it. Hyukjae still made him laugh and he still was a good kisser and a great dancer, but he was pretty sure they both felt that it wasn’t meant to be. That was proven to him when he opened the door one evening to a fidgeting - possibly drunk? - Hyukjae, telling him in between a million apologies that he didn’t think they’d work out.
So he went from there, two ex-boyfriend best friends now, one happily together with his new love still, the other happily together with his...dancing. He also still had Donghae - good friend, trying to hook him up with every cute guy and girl he saw - and a few female friends that tried to find him real happiness while they treated him as their gay best friend for life. He wasn’t particularly sure how to feel about that title - he was bi, not just gay - but it amused him how they all did their best to make him happy.
Relationships, however, didn’t seem to be his kind of thing. Judging from the way he stumbled from one failed lover to the next in the passing years he didn’t really know anymore whether he’d end up with a girl in the end or just completely alone. He was moving through his twenties way too fast to be comfortable and the way the big thirty doomed closer wasn’t helping him feel any better about his chances either. Especially not with all of his friends gathering together to plan a huge birthday party just to remind him how old thirty actually was.
And that’s probably where this story really starts, some twelve years after his first kiss with a guy. In a huge hall draped with birthday decorations and colours - way too many colours to be healthy, really - when he reached out to grab a glass of champagne to drink away his worries, but caught a hand instead, with long fingers that curled around his naturally as he turned around in surprise to see who he had grabbed hold of.
“Hello,” a smooth voice had told him, and it was a little like he heard someone speak for the first time. “You’re the birthday boy, right? Or well, I should say man.” It also was a little like speaking for the first time when he clumsily tried to shove some words out of his mouth that really never made it further than his throat.
“H-hi... yes... hello... hi!” He ended with a grin that was probably ninety percent stupid and ten percent retarded, before quickly letting go of the hand he was still holding.
“Thirty...” the woman in front of him continued and he dumbly nodded. “Quite the important age. How does it feel, leaving behind the twenties?” He sent her a smile, probably a little bitter but he didn’t really care. Becoming thirty should allow him to be bitter, right?
“Feels a little like my face is full of wrinkles and I’ll need a walking stick soon from the way people talk about it,” he replied then, making a mental note that he had finally remembered how to talk. She laughed at his words, a sound that sparkled and clattered like a waterfall, but she looked so serene while doing it that it was hard to imagine said waterfall along with it.
“My name’s Ahra,” she introduced herself then - finallly - and he managed a polite nod. “Friend of a friend.”
“Zhou Mi, but you probably knew that already.”
A nod, a smile and then she took hold of two champagne glasses, reaching one out to him. “I assume this is what we both were looking for when we accidentally grabbed hold of each other?” she inquired. He could do nothing but nod, taking the glass and immediately gulping down half of it, not caring what that might look like to her.
“Actually I was also looking for you,” she continued when he lowered his glass again, the words making him look up at her, the question obvious in his expression. “Heechul invited me,” she started explaining then and perhaps that’s when the alarm bells should’ve started ringing in his head, but they didn’t. “Said I should come by, that you’re a nice kid. He’s usually right with these things, you know?”
He nodded, because Heechul’s always right and the fact that he told someone that he - Zhou Mi - is a nice kid, well that’s worth emptying the other half of that champagne glass for. Which he did. She watched with a smile as he put the glass on some waiter’s empty tray and then let the silence carry on a moment longer before putting her own glass down.
“Would you do me a favour?”
Perhaps he should’ve said no, but he didn’t. Instead he said maybe and asked what the favour was. He’s still unsure whether it was a good decision to comply to her request in the end, but it’s useless to start doubting now, because he’s already sitting in the restaurant, waiting for his ‘blind’ date to show up. Kyuhyun, twenty-eight, Ahra’s younger brother. She’d been trying to hook him up with a date for years now, but everyone he met with got rejected.
She had finally decided then that maybe, possibly, her brother wasn’t into the pretty ladies, and after discussing that with Heechul, they apparently thought it a good idea to use him - just turned thirty and desperate to not end up alone in life - to figure out whether Ahra’s hunch was right or not. He doesn’t know whether to be flattered to think he’s made for the job or insulted that they’re only using him in their benefit.
He doesn’t get much time to ponder about that, however, as suddenly the chair across from him is pulled back and he looks up into a pair of chocolate brown eyes that remind him of Ahra’s. Eyebrows are raised in surprise upon seeing his face and Kyuhyun - at least he assumes this is Kyuhyun, he’s about 99,9 percent sure - suddenly snorts, reaching out a hand then to shake his in greeting.
“So noona finally found out, huh?” The question rolls out of the younger man’s mouth in gentle, warm syllables that wrap around Zhou Mi’s ears and make a smile appear on his face even without his approval. “I’m Kyuhyun, but I assume she told you that already. You must be the newest attempt at hooking me up with someone. You look a lot better than the previous ones, I have to admit. Perhaps a little on the skinny side, though. Do you eat?”
He stares. There’s no other way to say it, no way to make it sound less blunt and stupid and rude. He stares with his mouth slightly agape, a completely blank look in his eyes and Kyuhyun’s hand still reached out to him, untouched. He snaps out of it when Kyuhyun starts to retract his hand, quickly reaching out then to take hold of it and shake it.
“Mi,” he introduces himself, honestly surprised that he still remembers his own name. “Zhou Mi. I eat, yes, a lot actually, but don’t tell my female friends. They all think I found the secret to staying slim.” He grins at his own joke, fearing for a heartbeat that he’s saying stupid things, but then Kyuhyun is grinning too and he knows that this is just right. “And your noona didn’t find out yet. She’s just suspecting. In fact, she asked me to have dinner with you just once to see if it was really the case.”
“Well it is. I hope you don’t mind.” It’s said with such genuine concern that he almost wants to walk around the table to wrap Kyuhyun in a big hug and tell him that ‘of course not, like guys all you want, you’re perfect.’ But he doesn’t. In fact, he suddenly realises he’s still holding Kyuhyun’s hand so he let’s go and awkwardly pics up his empty glass. It takes several seconds for him to notice there’s nothing to get out of an empty glass, so he puts it back down awkwardly.
“No, I don’t mind,” he finally finds the words to say, looking up at Kyuhyun then to see the younger is already going over the menu. “What are you doing?” he asks, but regrets it immediately after when Kyuhyun looks up at him with a frown that almost screams ‘are you stupid?’ right in his face.
“I’m picking my dinner, if that’s okay with you?” he replies then, seeming confident as he starts, but then growing more insecure as he continues. “Or was this all just planned to see my reaction? Are we supposed to leave again now that you know?” Kyuhyun glances around the restaurant for a moment, before giving him another pointed look and so he hurries to shake his head.
“No, no, it’s fine. Let’s uhh... Let’s eat, yeah,” he agrees, nodding a little as he picks up his own menu, opening it randomly and staring intently at that page for a full minute before realising he’s holding the thing upside down. He tries to be cool about it as he turns it around, but Kyuhyun’s not really paying attention anyway and it’s not like half the restaurant is staring at his every move. At least he hopes they’re not, because that would be embarrassing.
It goes from there, a little rough around the edges at the start, but once they both happen to order pasta the topic starter is set and everything just rolls about after that. Kyuhyun is nice table company, having a million-and-one stories to tell about everything and nothing - people at work, some guy on the street, his own clumsiness - and it makes Zhou Mi feel comfortable around the other.
They end up ordering desserts too, and coffee after that, finding the time passes by too fast as the evening goes on. It’s midnight when they leave the restaurant, and even then only because they kind of got kicked out - in a nice way. It’s comfortable to just start on a stroll in the general direction of what he assumes is Kyuhyun’s house. Five blocks and an infinite amount of turns further he realises that maybe they’re not really going anywhere. He doesn’t particularly mind.
In the end they do end up on a doorstep, his own to be more precise, because it’s getting close to three and Kyuhyun actually has work in the morning. Zhou Mi suddenly remembers there’s something like life and other people and oh yes, that report he said he’d write after dinner. It’s not that important anyway, if he thinks about it a little more, so he invites Kyuhyun in for another drink - if he wants of course.
Kyuhyun refuses, but it’s done in such a way that it’s obvious he actually wants to accept. Zhou Mi fumbles with his keys as Kyuhyun for once is the one trying to form decent sentences. In the end they both fall silent, just standing there looking at each other. Zhou Mi admires the way Kyuhyun’s dark eyes reflect the light coming from inside his apartment building and then looks a little more down to admire the other’s lips.
“Let’s just kiss,” he decides is a good thing to say at that moment and Kyuhyun laughs, lips parting slightly, teeth flashing, so much happiness bundled into one sound. He doesn’t wait for an answer as he leans in and does exactly what he said should be done. It’s awkward. It actually feels a little like Kyuhyun has never kissed before. And suddenly Zhou Mi knows how Heechul felt all those years ago when he kissed Zhou Mi and Zhou Mi kissed back, no second thoughts.
They make it past the door somehow, and the hallway, and the staircase, mouths glued together as Kyuhyun goes up the stairs first because he’s just that tiny bit less tall than him. It’s only one floor and then he’s pulling away, looking down at his keys to figure out which one he needs. Kyuhyun panting next to his ear is kind of distracting, but he finds the one he needs anyway and safely manages to get them inside.
He takes off his shoes, hangs up his jacket and tries to think of something to say. His mind is blank, however, much like Kyuhyun’s apparently, because when he looks up they’re just standing there looking at each other, both silent and not moving. He thinks over the past evening, reminds himself that he’s only known Kyuhyun for what? Six hours, maybe seven? and he realises he doesn’t give a damn.
“You know...” Kyuhyun breaks the silence then, straightening up a little and giving him a more conscious look. “I really don’t want another drink.” He grins at that and it’s such a goofy expression that Zhou Mi laughs at it, only making Kyuhyun’s grin turn into a pout that is so adorable he wants to take a picture right at that moment so he can look at it whenever he feels bad.
He’s not exactly sure how but they’re soon pressed together again, starting from their lips before everything follows, and he has Kyuhyun up against the wall too at some point, but it doesn’t really matter, because it’s not like they notice anyway. By the time they reach his bed they’re still wearing all their clothes surprisingly, and he hesitates at the edge, wondering if it would be too much in one day to go there.
Kyuhyun makes the decision for him, sticking one foot behind his leg as he pulls at his collar and as he feels himself toppling over, he lets go of the last restraints and falls, careless and willing, all the way, even though Kyuhyun’s actually quite bad at kissing - or at least, he’s had better.
Showing posts with label one-shot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label one-shot. Show all posts
Friday, 2 September 2011
Tuesday, 30 August 2011
[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] Reminiscing
Title: Reminiscing
Characters: Undefined
Rating: G
Wordcount: 1.139
Summary: Sometimes in life you know fighting is useless.
A/N: This is a very rare original fiction of mine that talks about one of the more common things in life these days; love gone wrong, marriage turned divorce, children with two homes. It's a piece that I enjoyed writing because it brought a little bit of peace to my mind while I was at it. I'd like to thank the person who read this while I wrote it and kept my fickle writer mind focused. ^.^
- - - - -
I’m not sure how these things start? They grow like weed in your garden. One day you’re innocently trying to find the butter your mother wants you to buy, the next day you’re baking cookies with a stranger. Or an almost stranger.
We met in a bar when I was out with my friends. She had a little too much to drink so I offered her a ride home, but she didn’t even remember her own address anymore so I took her to my place. I figured we still had a spare bed anyway and she wouldn’t mind if she still had her clothes on in the morning. She didn’t mind indeed. But since there was no breakfast, she offered to make cookies.
They were nice. With chocolate chips in them. The first cookies I made that were edible even. It wasn’t too hard to get along with her. In fact, it was really easy. And my mother never asked me about her staying over - as if it was a normal thing for a girl to do.
She was fifteen when we met. I was nineteen. People found that too much of a difference. It also wasn’t legal. We didn’t exactly care. It’s not like I talked her into bed the first night anyway. You know that feeling when you buy something or do something and you just know it’s exactly the thing you need? She was exactly the thing I needed.
Maybe we were young and foolish, I don’t know. She told me her name was Lilly and I wanted immediately to smell her fragrance. But she was a flower that still had to bloom. She didn’t see me like I saw her I guess. Or maybe she did but she never told me. In any way; we never really did much more than baking cookies back in the day. It was all I could do to keep in contact with her.
It was like that moment when the sun goes down and you can see the little shimmers of orange. It was wonderful. And she was there to see it with me. She was sixteen by then, I was nineteen for another month. We kissed, I guess? We made it to the part where you just don’t care about the outside world anymore. It was nice to hide in the things we both loved; music, dancing, baking chocolate chip cookies.
Maybe it was the way she smiled at me, or the way she messed up the chocolate every time we made cookies. I don’t know, but I fell. Her mother told me once that if I was going to take her, I’d better also care for her. So I did. I loved Lilly like a man loves the only woman in his life. From back then all the way up till we moved in together and even when we fought, got engaged, separated and married.
We understood each other, the two of us. She needed time to do her thing, I needed time to do my thing, so we did those things when the other had no time either, that way we could spend the time we did have together. It worked, we worked, she was awesome.
You can’t learn about love from the movies and books, you know, you can only feel it. The things they tell you … it goes way deeper than that and you often realise still even long after it’s gone. Even years later you’ll think back and say to yourself: ‘Dang, I loved that person.’ Because you did. And you do. The human mind works like that.
There was silence then, the man staring down at the floor tiles, lost in thoughts, the interviewer stopping his scribbling to look up and ask another question.
“So you don’t love her anymore now?”
The look he got for that was fierce, not exactly angry but more disappointed. As if the man was trying to tell him ‘isn’t it obvious?’ with just his eyes. And he got the message, looking down at his notes again to scribble something more.
“Then what happened?”
We grew up, we grew old, we got kids, they grew up. You know how life generally goes. We had a general life, with the general house, pet, garden, tree, kid kind of scenario. It worked for us. If you add in the chocolate chip cookies, of course.
But life is life and soon something felt off. When our son was about eight, our daughter eleven, she came to me saying it had become boring, normal. I didn’t know what to do or say to that, because in some way it was true. We didn’t really talk it out, I guess that’s what the problem was.
We fought more often from then on, over the smallest of things. Everything that had been solved with a smile and a shrug before now became something to fight over - whenever the kids weren’t listening in. It soon became obvious that we couldn’t live like that so we told the kids and I moved away not too long after.
The kids visit me once every week now, sometimes during the week days, sometimes during the weekend. Sometimes randomly. We’re not too far apart, just far enough to not get into arguments every minute anymore. I guess we managed to work it out nicely if you hear some of the stories that go around about divorces.
I still love her, I think that’s what matters most. Lilly will always be the fragrance of my life. I didn’t manage to live with her anymore, but we never really managed to live without each other either. Every time I pass by her house to pick up or drop off the kids, I still see the bits and pieces of me that linger there and I’m sure there’s bits and pieces of her in my house as well. A CD here, a little note there.
It’s not because we separated that we have to hate each other. It’s not because you’re over that the love is gone. I often think back to those early days and then I go ‘Dang I loved that woman.’ But even though I still do, I know it’s better this way. Fairytales don’t work in the real world, you know?
The man smiles a sad smile and the interviewer slowly covers his notes. There’s nothing more to say now. It’s not the end of the story, but what else is there to write about? They shake hands, the man gets up from his chair and walks over to the mirror to check his outfit, the interviewer leaves the dressing room.
Back to life. Back to work. Feelings tucked away in a corner to never be felt again, until the next time of reminiscing.
Characters: Undefined
Rating: G
Wordcount: 1.139
Summary: Sometimes in life you know fighting is useless.
A/N: This is a very rare original fiction of mine that talks about one of the more common things in life these days; love gone wrong, marriage turned divorce, children with two homes. It's a piece that I enjoyed writing because it brought a little bit of peace to my mind while I was at it. I'd like to thank the person who read this while I wrote it and kept my fickle writer mind focused. ^.^
- - - - -
I’m not sure how these things start? They grow like weed in your garden. One day you’re innocently trying to find the butter your mother wants you to buy, the next day you’re baking cookies with a stranger. Or an almost stranger.
We met in a bar when I was out with my friends. She had a little too much to drink so I offered her a ride home, but she didn’t even remember her own address anymore so I took her to my place. I figured we still had a spare bed anyway and she wouldn’t mind if she still had her clothes on in the morning. She didn’t mind indeed. But since there was no breakfast, she offered to make cookies.
They were nice. With chocolate chips in them. The first cookies I made that were edible even. It wasn’t too hard to get along with her. In fact, it was really easy. And my mother never asked me about her staying over - as if it was a normal thing for a girl to do.
She was fifteen when we met. I was nineteen. People found that too much of a difference. It also wasn’t legal. We didn’t exactly care. It’s not like I talked her into bed the first night anyway. You know that feeling when you buy something or do something and you just know it’s exactly the thing you need? She was exactly the thing I needed.
Maybe we were young and foolish, I don’t know. She told me her name was Lilly and I wanted immediately to smell her fragrance. But she was a flower that still had to bloom. She didn’t see me like I saw her I guess. Or maybe she did but she never told me. In any way; we never really did much more than baking cookies back in the day. It was all I could do to keep in contact with her.
It was like that moment when the sun goes down and you can see the little shimmers of orange. It was wonderful. And she was there to see it with me. She was sixteen by then, I was nineteen for another month. We kissed, I guess? We made it to the part where you just don’t care about the outside world anymore. It was nice to hide in the things we both loved; music, dancing, baking chocolate chip cookies.
Maybe it was the way she smiled at me, or the way she messed up the chocolate every time we made cookies. I don’t know, but I fell. Her mother told me once that if I was going to take her, I’d better also care for her. So I did. I loved Lilly like a man loves the only woman in his life. From back then all the way up till we moved in together and even when we fought, got engaged, separated and married.
We understood each other, the two of us. She needed time to do her thing, I needed time to do my thing, so we did those things when the other had no time either, that way we could spend the time we did have together. It worked, we worked, she was awesome.
You can’t learn about love from the movies and books, you know, you can only feel it. The things they tell you … it goes way deeper than that and you often realise still even long after it’s gone. Even years later you’ll think back and say to yourself: ‘Dang, I loved that person.’ Because you did. And you do. The human mind works like that.
There was silence then, the man staring down at the floor tiles, lost in thoughts, the interviewer stopping his scribbling to look up and ask another question.
“So you don’t love her anymore now?”
The look he got for that was fierce, not exactly angry but more disappointed. As if the man was trying to tell him ‘isn’t it obvious?’ with just his eyes. And he got the message, looking down at his notes again to scribble something more.
“Then what happened?”
We grew up, we grew old, we got kids, they grew up. You know how life generally goes. We had a general life, with the general house, pet, garden, tree, kid kind of scenario. It worked for us. If you add in the chocolate chip cookies, of course.
But life is life and soon something felt off. When our son was about eight, our daughter eleven, she came to me saying it had become boring, normal. I didn’t know what to do or say to that, because in some way it was true. We didn’t really talk it out, I guess that’s what the problem was.
We fought more often from then on, over the smallest of things. Everything that had been solved with a smile and a shrug before now became something to fight over - whenever the kids weren’t listening in. It soon became obvious that we couldn’t live like that so we told the kids and I moved away not too long after.
The kids visit me once every week now, sometimes during the week days, sometimes during the weekend. Sometimes randomly. We’re not too far apart, just far enough to not get into arguments every minute anymore. I guess we managed to work it out nicely if you hear some of the stories that go around about divorces.
I still love her, I think that’s what matters most. Lilly will always be the fragrance of my life. I didn’t manage to live with her anymore, but we never really managed to live without each other either. Every time I pass by her house to pick up or drop off the kids, I still see the bits and pieces of me that linger there and I’m sure there’s bits and pieces of her in my house as well. A CD here, a little note there.
It’s not because we separated that we have to hate each other. It’s not because you’re over that the love is gone. I often think back to those early days and then I go ‘Dang I loved that woman.’ But even though I still do, I know it’s better this way. Fairytales don’t work in the real world, you know?
The man smiles a sad smile and the interviewer slowly covers his notes. There’s nothing more to say now. It’s not the end of the story, but what else is there to write about? They shake hands, the man gets up from his chair and walks over to the mirror to check his outfit, the interviewer leaves the dressing room.
Back to life. Back to work. Feelings tucked away in a corner to never be felt again, until the next time of reminiscing.
[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
- - - - - - - - - -
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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