Epilogue

Donghae’s concussion was worsened by the alcoholic drink Yikyung had made him swallow. The effect left him delirious and nauseous for more than day. Hyukjae had no qualms about staying by his side, though, and listened to his husband blabbering truth after truth, anecdotes after anecdotes in the comfort of their home. He could not remember feeling so light and content just listening to someone talk, but of course it would be his husband who could do it, in their living room with no lights on while his head rested on Hyukjae’s lap and fingers running through his dark hair.

“Do you remember when you called me ‘Hae hyung’?” Donghae asked rhetorically – he never waited for an answer – and smirked, his head tilted as he looked at Hyukjae.

Hyukjae did actually remember and could feel his cheeks colouring. He was not himself, damn! He was nineteen in his head at that time and he was being logical about the hyung thing. Hyukjae had just always been big about respect ever since a young age, there was no play behind it, although, thinking about it, he could remember thinking that he needed a way to get Donghae talking or at least opened up more as his husband clearly had no idea how to handle their predicament. Even his nineteen self knew his husband well. Whatever it was though, he was hoping it would never be brought up, that it would be forgo-

“I like it when you do.”

Hyukjae’s eyes widened comically as he stared down at Donghae, who chuckled and covered his face with Hyukjae’s free hand. This !

“Say it. Call me.”

He was not sure if he should be horrified or laugh because as of now, the one who would be embarrassed by the honorific would be Donghae, not him. Hyukjae decided he would laugh, “Maybe next time, Hae, during… special occasion, okay?”

Donghae kissed Hyukjae’s palm before settling the hand on his own chest, “Okay.” Lucky for Hyukjae that concussed Donghae was very gullible by him. He leaned down and gave a soft kiss.

“Are we going to talk?” asked Donghae against his lips.

Hyukjae shook his head, a smile prominent and never leaving his face, “Later, maybe. You have done enough talking for it to last a few more days. Now, let’s rest before you need to head for the bathroom again.” Somehow, Hyukjae woke up to find himself lying on the couch, Donghae’s arm across his chest.

After a couple days had passed, and things had calmed down more, they sat down with Detective Kim Youngwoon and Kim Heechul and the pair from the VCU recapped what had transpired and what newfound they had.

After further investigation and interrogation, they concluded what drove Chef Yikyung, full name Song Yikyung, age 42, over the edge was the death of his wife four years prior due to cancer. He was diagnosed with major depression with psychotic features, presumed by a clinical psychologist who was called in after the man refused to speak a single word besides a name – his wife’s.

At the back of his mind, Hyukjae remembered the phone call he had with the chef right before he was knocked out and brought to the factories months ago. The man had mentioned something about his wife. Hyukjae never knew that she was gone, never knew the man who had attacked him.

His wife had believed in him, had supported Chef Yikyung’s entire career even when his salary was subpar. Money became a problem as they could not afford full treatments and after nearly two years of suffering, his wife passed away in their own home. Her final words to him made Chef Yikyung tried his level best to thrive and make himself a great renowned chef while in the midst of depression. He took the words of his wife as an oath, a promise he needed to keep, and a final wish he would grant for her. The mixture brought out the devil in him when Hyukjae came and claimed a position he perceived he owned.

The man would be charged fairly while also taking into count his mental condition. Knowing neither Donghae nor Hyukjae need to attend the trial brought a relief.

As they left the station, walking hand in hand, Hyukjae could not help thinking about how similar Song Yikyung’s story was to Donghae’s, and how bad it could have gotten for his husband. He stole a quick glance to his left. This man next to him could have, might have, gone through something as suffocating, as mentally traumatizing as Yikyung did. This man by his side, he was merely a boy when he lost the one person who gave his interest and skills any validation no matter how minor. He lost his brother who had supported him, encouraged him. Something that could drive a grown man psychotic; what could it have done to a fourteen year old?

And yet, here was that boy, all grown up, successful, talented and still full of inspiration. Donghae was in a dark place for a moment, lost, but, Hyukjae could imagine him pulling himself together, chasing a dream with his heart always reflected on the canvases, in the way he flourished a brush or a pencil. Donghae could say that Hyukjae was the one who saved him, who helped him rid the dark thoughts. But, looking at his husband, feeling the warmth from the hand holding his, Hyukjae knew his husband would have gotten better, would paint his own world brighter through time even if they had not crossed path, because Donghae was so strong to have gotten through his brother’s death mostly by himself, had had so much will and purity inside him that he pulled himself together after one, small compliment from a stranger. Hyukjae was just a catalyst who sped up his recovering process and he was happy with that realization. His husband would be fine.

Wrapping his arm around Donghae’s, Hyukjae tugged him closer.

“I’m not happy that we missed our fourth monthsary,” Donghae’s words ended Hyukjae’s musings.

Shrugging, he said, “Well, we didn’t really miss it. You were just so out of your mind that you don’t even know I was feeding you the caramel tiramisu.”

“Hm…” Donghae put on his black, rimless sunglasses, “When did you made them, actually? I was not coherent but I’m sort of sure you did not leave my side for more than ten minutes, even when,” he paused to pull the corner of his lips into a smirk, “I went to take a bath… a bath that took way longer than necessary.”

Hyukjae did not even blanched at the insinuation, getting immune to it after a whole day filled with innuendos and suggestive requests from a husband who keep asking Hyukjae to call him ‘Hae hyung’. “A bath which we both know you were half asleep, half drunk and a quarter too sensitive-near-the-private-parts-Hyukjae-don’t-tease-me while I sprayed water on you while standing a few feet away.”

Donghae scoffed and shrugged of Hyukjae’s arms, “Fine. If you’re going to be insensitive to an incapacitated me, let’s just dismiss everything and I’ll keep whatever I have in my perfectly-capable-of-thinking-thank-you-for-your-help mind.”

Hyukjae smiled, his eyes – if anyone paid attention to it – glistened with the memory from a few days back, when he had made the dessert under a strenuous effort to keep himself from feeling useless as he waited for the police to inform with any news. He watched as Donghae walked away, deliberately taking long strides to distance himself from Hyukjae. There was no need to bring up a recollection of that day. It was enough that they went through it, would forever be impaired by it in one way or another, and that it would be a constant thought in their minds for at least another year without any trigger.

“Yah! Lee Hyukjae!”

Hyukjae gave himself another moment and had a good look at Donghae, who had one hand in his beige colour long coat’s pocket as he stood a few metres ahead, his pressed black pants snuggly hugging his legs, his brownish red leather shoes a nice contrast to the pavement beneath his feet. Then there were the trees where white and light pink flowers bloomed above his head, the homey brown of branches and trunks and the soft blue of the sky. The most beautiful part of the picturesque and dream-like view was the outstretched hand waiting for him to take it into his. He could almost understand Donghae’s passion for arts at that moment.

Hyukjae snorted before his smile morphed into the widest grin he could pull. Drawing his right hand out of his faded jeans pocket, he reached out as he stepped closer and closer in his converse, faster with every step. When his hand grasped Donghae’s, not letting himself think about what he was going to do next or anything else, Hyukjae tugged his husband forward – clearly surprising the other judging by his wide eyes, this would be laughed over later – and wrapped his arm around Donghae’s neck, triumphantly slipping his lips right on top his husband’s. And Hyukjae kissed him, tilting his head as he shut his eyes and his other senses except for touch. He let himself felt every nip, every , and every heat emanating.

Both of them would be fine, they deserved as much.

.

Eight months later…

“Are the macaroons ready, Myungsoo?” asked Hyukjae as he wiped his brows with a clean cloth. He had just finished the mini fruit tarts and placed three trays of them on the dining table.

“I’m piping them. Can you arrange it, hyung?”

Hyukjae untied his apron, tossing it into the hamper before heading back to the kitchen, putting on plastic gloves. With four hands, they managed to complete all four mini desserts that Hyukjae had planned up. Twelve trays of sweet after sweet things lined his house dining table, readied to be delivered.

Myungsoo sighed, “Well, that only took us 11 whole hours!”

Bumping their shoulders together, Hyukjae thanked him, “Couldn’t have finished this myself. And hey, you should be rejoicing that in this 11 hours, not once have I mentioned about it being my first anniversary today after your constant complaining of my last seven ‘sickeningly sweet’ monthsary.” He could not help the frown taking over his face as he stared at the food. He specifically planned this mini desserts lined up for Donghae’s new featured painting. He would not say he did it begrudgingly, but Hyukjae resent that it had to be on December 14^th. There was nothing to be done, though, except for playing the role of the ever supportive husband.

“Your monthsary, each time, was sickeningly sweet. Going on a date like an unmarried couple on every 14^th… Who knew that your once-cold-and-untouchable husband could come up with such an idea,” Myungsoo snorted.

It brought a brief smile out of Hyukjae, “His reason was valid. We both jumped into this marriage without any clue of what it would be like to have a partner. No dating, no sweet endearments, no twenty-two days gift. So we went dating.”

“Logical, still disturbing for me. But, Hyukjae hyung,” Myungsoo slung his arm across Hyukjae’s shoulders, “Give me something to complain about, I’ll take it any day. Because when I get to complain, it means I don’t have to worry about you,” he nudged Hyukjae out of the dining area, smirking, “Now go get ready. We need to be at your beloved husband-of-one-year’s gallery in an hour.”

There something about that smirk, Hyukjae’s instinct was saying – a.k.a. ‘woman’s intuition’ as Donghae sometimes with. It was in the way Myungsoo’s eyes were not squinting as they usually would when he was being genuine. Or it might be the quick change of topic. Myungsoo never let go of a subject until everything was said and done. Whatever it was, Hyukjae shrugged and went upstairs. He was already behind scheduled.

When he entered the bedroom, he was not surprised to find a suit splayed on the bed along with a tie and cufflinks. It was standard clothes ethic for this type of function and he was going as Donghae’s husband, not a caterer. Hyukjae was taken aback, though, when he realized the grey suit was the one he had worn once before, exactly a year ago. Checking the cufflinks and finding ‘L.D.H.’ carved on them confirmed his thought; this was his wedding suit! It made him both unsettled and giddy.

Biting his lip to suppress the grin threatening to split his face into half, Hyukjae took a quick shower and got dressed. Buttoning up the shirt, tying the black tie around his neck, and slipping the cufflinks into place, each moment passed by with all sort of feelings he could not begin to name. As he smoothed his hands over the suit once he was done, though, he knew one word that could conclude them; home. This suit, his marriage, he felt at home in it. The only thing missing was a husband to take his hand.

“Hyukjae hyung, I’m leaving first to send the food, okay?”

Hyukjae’s first reaction was to quirk his brow, annoyed, but then he was running out and down the stairs only to be greeted by the door swinging shut. “Definitely weird. This kid can’t fool me, I’m the one with the ‘woman’s intuition’, remember? Thinks he can hide things from me. Huh. Watch me get it out of you as soon as I can…” he grumbled all the way back to the room, picking up his phone and dialling up a taxi service.

It was a couple minutes passed 8pm when he stepped out from the cab only to find the glass doors at the entrance was not sliding. It baffled him and he thought of searching for the back door until he remembered he had the passcode to unlock it. As he typed in ‘0718’ into the keypad, he could not shrug off the fact that he needed to punch the numbers in for him to enter. Maybe I’m late and it’s so exclusive that everyone needs to be punctual. Ridiculous, though, as Donghae himself would not have been punctual!

Even going into the gallery did not calm his increasingly palpitating heart. It was dark. Hyukjae had thought it was just the tinted glass but the only source of light was from the entrance. His Oxford shoes clicked and echoed with every step and he was fishing for his phone when he found himself walking on most probably a carpet as the sound faded away.

Hyukjae should have screamed, he really should or people would thing he did not have any sense of self-preservation. But, the hand that suddenly claimed his was so familiar and fitted his so well that all he did was turned expectantly to look at none other than – he was sure – his husband.

Then, the lights came on.

Donghae’s lips were curved in a dazzling smile reserved only for him, and that was the first thing Hyukjae noticed. After just a moment though, which was far from enough for him to comprehend anything, Donghae turned forward, his hand coaxing Hyukjae to walk with him.

“Donghae, what –”

“Shh,” his husband whispered back, “Look in front and smile.”

Hyukjae did but before he was able to smile though, he realized there were others in the gallery. Just very few, selected others. His mom, his in-laws, Myungsoo and the rest of the restaurant crew, the gallery’s worker, and even Sujin, were standing to Hyukjae and Donghae’s sides, lining up next to the white carpet they were walking on. Upfront, on a small makeshift altar, was dad in his wheelchair, waiting for them.

There was nothing to say, even if there was he could not have let any strangled noise out from his throat as he looked at the bright faces all around him. Before he knew it, he was standing face to face with his husband, still so lost.

“I think we should get straight to the vows, gentlemen. Better to get things cleared before a groom faints or, worse, run away,” there was a chorus of laughter from the small gathered audience below as they listened to dad’s words, “Go on, then, Donghae.”

Donghae cleared his throat before he began, blinking all through his words, “Lee Hyukjae, after seven months of dating, I could not find a better way than to end them with a wedding. After a whole year of living a life accompanied by your presence, it has been emotionally proven that a day without you will cost me my death. Thus, I am here to renew a vow I had taken lightly a year ago. This time, I mean every word. I will care for you, and I will be kind and thoughtful. Most importantly, I will love you, as much as you deserve and more. And only 'till death do we part.”

“Hyukjae –”

“I do!”

Hyukjae did not realize what he had blurted out until everyone attending was laughing, even Donghae almost doubled-over in his fit of laughter. Hyukjae did not care, though, despite his reddening cheeks telling a different story. He grinned when Donghae caught his eyes.

“I do, too.”

The echo of laughter died down before dad said, “Well then, I pronounced you husband and husband, again. You may kiss your groom.”

They both took a step forward, eyes still boring into each other’s. Then theirs hands came up and covered the other’s cheek. It was a complete replication of that moment a year ago, only this time, with lips an inch apart, Donghae whispered, “This time, I’ll kiss you right.” And he did. Their lips met and it was the most intoxicating kiss Hyukjae ever felt. Not because of the kiss itself, but the emotions it brought, the realness of the situation, the amount of pure love Donghae was conveying as he deepened the kiss in front of everyone present. It left Hyukjae numbed for a few seconds after they parted, it left him wanting more, definitely. He hid them behind his chuckles, his fingers rubbing his left eye.

“So, everyone was in on this? And you made me work the entire day for my own wedding?” the thought came to mind and straight through his mouth which hung opened in disbelieve, “And you, Myungsoo! I knew it! I knew something was amiss when you didn’t grumble as much as you usually do.” His friend shrugged, his face clearly saying he did not regret it.

“Well, let’s not waste the food you made, then. Everyone, help yourself to my husband’s delicious desserts on the left side. Thank you,” said Donghae, dismissing the guests.

Faintly, the heard Myungsoo murmuring, “I made them too and kept him distracted, but sure, forget what I did. It was nothing.” They both ignored him.

Hyukjae turned to his dad who still sat there staring at him with a smile and that was the last call before Hyukjae felt a tear cascaded down from his eyes. He threw his arms around his dad and hugged him as tight as he could while hiding his face.

“Are you happy, Hyukjae-ah?”

Hyukjae remembered the question from before, a time which seemed so long ago now. He nodded against his dad’s shoulder, “I am,” he answered in a whisper, words only for his father to hear, “It’s him, dad. He is my first love. I’m married to him. You don’t have to feel guilty or whatsoever. You made the right decision.”

“I’m glad, Hyukjae-ah, I’m glad I did.”

Together with Donghae, they helped getting dad down the platform after he said he was afraid everything would be finished soon if he did not get to the buffet table at that very second. Hyukjae had a feeling he just wanted to leave him with his husband, something he did not mind in the slightest.

“There’s a wedding gift,” the words were soft breath to his ears.

“What, no! I don’t have anything for you. Hae,” he was dragged away from the crowded area by his hand. The muttering became background noise as they walked further and further into the gallery until the clicks of their shoes bounced off from every direction.

“You can close your eyes if you want to but it’s not necessary.”

“Hae, I –” Hyukjae’s breath was caught as his eyes landed on a painting hung right next to ‘Midnight Blues’. If anyone inspected the two any closer, it seemed as if the lightest shade at the right corner of the art was the same shade as the grey on the left corner of the new painting,. Instead of getting darker though, in the new one, grey turned lighter and lighter until it faded into white. From the top left corner until the bottom right corner, there was a stripe of white paint curved from one end to the other.

This painting did not follow the colour spectrum like ‘Midnight Blues’ did. After the white, colours synonymic to spring were used. It was like a dreamscape. They were painted to seem as if they blurred together until they became more vivid and transformed into outlines of objects and trees and flowers and… a man. This man had one hand outstretched and seemed to be walking, or probably running, toward something – or someone. The man in the painting wore a hoodie with ripped jeans, high top converse shoes and his hair was brown. Other features were unclear. The colours from the trees and flowers seemed to highlight the man, the subject of the painting, even more. It was… Hyukjae had no words for it. The image seemed taken from his memory of Donghae with the colours, but the subject was not wearing what Donghae had worn. So…

“It was that day,” Donghae said, scratching the back of his neck and staring at the floor, “When we left the police station. And… you ran to me. That was what I was seeing, from my perspectives. It’s a simple gift but I just needed to draw it so I thought of sharing it with you. And… I signed it as LDH at this corner here and it did take quite a while because of my finger and –”

Hyukjae threw himself at Donghae, wrapping his arms tight as they both stumbled a few steps back, “You are too much, okay? Too much. This is… Donghae!”

Donghae’s arms were late to return his hug and when he felt those hands on him, it almost felt as if his husband was hesitating, “I… I-I’m sorry. I…”

Hyukjae leaned back to stare at him, “That is too much, too good. That is so beautiful, Hae. Why did you…”

“You deserve even more than this, Hyukjae. Nothing is going to be too good for you. This,” he gestured at the painting, “is like a one-time thing, something I do for you once in a while. You,” the hands cupping his face were firm yet so very gentle at the same time, “You cook for me every day, three times a day. And you do it with so much love and care that I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“You deserve me. You love me back, you redeemed yourself. I deserve you, okay?” Hyukjae leaned in once again, hugging more furiously. He smiled when he felt Donghae nodding. Sniffling and clearing his throat , Hyukjae lowered his voice as he whispered right next to Donghae’s ear, “Do you think it’ll be fine it we leave early at our own wedding?”

Donghae swayed them, from side to side, “Well, I can tell my staff to help me lock this place with a key. But, why do you want to leave your own wedding early?”

“Hm…” Hyukjae ran his hand up and down Donghae’s back, “I just want to get on with the wedding night. It is our ‘first’ night,” he paused for a moment before continuing in a hushed voice, “Right, Hae hyung?” Donghae stepped back immediately and Hyukjae had the pleasure of watching his neck turning red. He used his gummy smile, tilting his head toward where the entrance was, “Coming, hyung?” he called out.

Donghae’s grabbed his wrist and spun him around, his hand efficiently slipped against Hyukjae’s cheek as he pulled him into a kiss that lasted just a short moment but still left Donghae breathless. It left Hyukjae slightly curious why that could happen.

“We’ll use the back door.”

“Okay, Hae hyung.”

Donghae stopped and stared at Hyukjae for a moment, “Save that mode until we get home.”

Yeah, let’s go home.

The End

We started this fic with Hyukjae and thus, we end it with him. And that is ending. Take all the fluff I can give! Epilogue shouldn't be this long but I just had so many pent up fluff for this fanfic, I guess. This is the second fanfic I completed so yeayyy to that! Hopefully the fanfic I'm focusing won't take this long to be done. Thank you for reading this entire fic that has it's own pros and cons. Any mistake made are mine and mine alone. Thank you for going through this journey with me. Signing off. Get the last batch of cookies from the comment box below.

Love,

Your Author.