Chapter 4

It was silence for a long while. The time passed as fast as the wind outside. It was night before anyone knew it and both Hyukjae and Donghae found themselves lying in their bed.

Donghae’s eyes were closed while Hyukjae’s remained wide. He did not know how his husband was able to sleep when Hyukjae’s heart had been erratic since the brief contact. He placed a hand on his chest, the beating of his heart loud in his ears. His face was flushed and he was not innocent enough to think it was because of his fever.

They had kissed, Donghae and him.

That was the fact.

Another fact was Hyukjae wanted more of it.

If asked some might argue that it was nothing. It had been nothing. It was just a swipe of lips against lips, Donghae had fell and unfortunately – fortunately for Hyukjae – his lips – his soft, soft lips – had landed on Hyukjae’s.

It was nothing, if he did not add the fact that they were married.

It was nothing, if he had not like it.

It was nothing, if Hyukjae had not harboured love for his husband.

So, because all of those were just ‘ifs’, it was a kiss, a seal of lips. Hyukjae could not calm his heart and no one was to blame except for himself, his thoughts and his feelings. 

Clenching a fist of his shirt, Hyukjae sat up slightly, his back leaning on the pillow and he looked over at Donghae, who seemed to be sleeping with his back to Hyukjae.

After that one second where they accidentally kissed, Donghae’s lips were gone in the next instant. But, their eyes remained in contact, both of their lips parted slightly and Hyukjae had felt gushes of hot breath ghosting over his cheek a few times. And then, all sort of contact was lost when Donghae’s eyes blinked and Hyukjae released a breath he did not realize he held. He stared as Donghae got off him and the bed.

“I’m going out. Stay in bed, do not go anywhere,” said Donghae as he walked toward the walk-in closet and disappeared inside it, coming out while putting on a black jacket over his plain white shirt.

Hyukjae was trying to sit up at that moment but failed as his arm gave up. If it was not for Donghae’s quick hand that wrapped itself around the back of Hyukjae’s head, he would have hit the headboard and fainted for the second time that day. Hyukjae in a deep breath as Donghae’s face was once again extremely close to his.

Giving Hyukjae a glare, Donghae tapped the side table where a pitcher and a glass full of water sat with his free hand, “Do not go anywhere.” A wet cloth was once again placed on Hyukjae’s forehead, the cloth that had slid down onto the bed when Hyukjae had tried sitting. Donghae was gone out of the door right after that, Hyukjae only blinked once and his husband’s face was not in front of him anymore. 

His pillow propped up slightly, Hyukjae gulped down the cool water, only then noticing his parched throat. He grabbed his phone, squinting his eyes as the screen was too bright. Noticing a text from Myungsoo asking where was he, he replied saying he would not be coming that night. He did not need to be told by anyone that he was having a fever, Hyukjae could feel it himself. 

Donghae came back almost an hour later. Hyukjae, who had fallen into a nap, woke up when he heard the door opened – he was still a light sleeper even if he was not in the right state. Donghae came in with a tray that had a porridge and medicine. Placing the tray on the side table, he helped Hyukjae sat up, first taking off the damp cloth then propping the pillows for him as he lifted Hyukjae’s head up before he grabbed Hyukjae’s hand and gently pulled him up, just enough for him to feel comfortable while he would eat.

No words pass between them as Hyukjae promptly opened his mouth every time Donghae held out the spoon. They did not even look at each other eye to eye. After a few mouthfuls, Hyukjae shook his head. Donghae gave him the fever reducer pills and Hyukjae gratefully nodded toward him. His husband helped him lied back on the bed before leaving the room. It was a few hours later, when the light no longer penetrated the light brown curtains, when Hyukjae was woken up, a wet cloth back on his head while it was not there when he had fallen asleep. Once again, Donghae fed him and gave Hyukjae his medicine. Not long after that, Donghae changed into his sleeping attire, turned off the light and got on his side of the bed. 

Now, here they were. 

Hyukjae, after coming home to find Donghae sound asleep with his mouth opened for a month, knew that his husband was not asleep right then when he looked at him.

“Let’s talk. We need to talk,” Hyukjae said softly. 

“I don’t want to,” came the reply.

Hyukjae cleared his throat, “I want to. I need to, actually. I can’t sleep.”

“You slept fine before.”

“You were not here before.”

Donghae sat up then, his eyes showed no sign of sleep. He stared right into Hyukjae, “What is it that makes tonight different from other nights?”

Hyukjae gulped and scratched his cheeks, “We… kissed.”

Donghae shrugged, “So?”

Hyukjae gaped, staring back at Donghae. He was feeling all topsy turvy, plus the fever was not aiding, but his husband was calm as if nothing happened. It almost brought some rage out of Hyukjae, “We kissed. For the first time. And that was my first real kiss, ever. I don’t know how to react.”

“Don’t react. That’s all. Think of it as if it never happened, if it helps,” Donghae was about to turn away when Hyukjae grabbed his forearm, stopping him.

“But it did happened.”

Donghae pried Hyukjae’s hand off him, “Suit yourself.” Donghae lied down once again, his back facing Hyukjae.

Sighing, Hyukjae slid down back too, and closed his eyes. But, with his feelings still bottled up, his brows furrowed and he bit his lip, “Can’t we try suiting each other, Donghae?” his voice was soft as he spoke, not demanding an answer nor attention. He just needed to talk, “I know it wasn’t your idea to be married to me. You might even hate me. But, for both of our sake, let’s try to be better, alright? I am not asking you to be my husband. I am only hoping that you can be a friend. A companion while we live in here. I will take that kiss as a friendly gesture and then we can be comfortable living together. It happened once, and that’s it. I will take it as that. Let’s make living easier, alright?”

A damp cloth was placed onto Hyukjae's forehead once again, "Fine."

Hyukjae had not expected even a word from the other, used to being ignored. He was speechless and his eyes were wide as he stared at Donghae. Blinking, Hyukjae smiled until it hurt, “Thank you.” It only took a few minutes before they both fell into the dreamland, Hyukjae’s heart feeling lighter than it had been ever since a month ago. 

Everything started brightening up after that. Hyukjae had two more days of leave – in which Donghae stayed at home too, only going out to get lunch and dinner – and then everything went back to usual, back to routine. Hyukjae got up and prepared breakfast while Donghae showered, Donghae had his breakfast and then left the house at 9am, Hyukjae did the laundry – collecting Donghae’s clothes that seemed to be all over the place, the cleaning, the cooking. He prepared dinner and left it in the fridge for Donghae every evening. 

Difference and what changed?

Every morning, when Hyukjae said, “Good morning,” he would be greeted back by his husband, though Donghae did not have a smile on his face for him. Then, Hyukjae sat at the table with Donghae during breakfast. Every breakfast. They did not talk, not much, but Hyukjae was content enough to just be there in a companionable silence. When Donghae was about to leave, Hyukjae would wait by the door. 

The first time he did that, Donghae glared at him, saying, “Do not come in between and my car again.”

Hyukjae chuckled while he shook his head and said, “No, if you don’t want me to. Unless it is urgent, though.” Donghae never stopped Hyukjae from waving him off.

At night, when he got home, Hyukjae would find the dinner he made cleared and there would be no dishes for him to wash. Once, he and his husband had dinner together on Tuesday. For extra, on days when it rained at night, Hyukjae would come home to find the clothes he hung outside were already brought in, dumped on the sofa. He would still need to fold them, but, at least he did not have to wash them again. And for that, Hyukjae was grateful.

Hyukjae still came home to find jackets lying around sometimes, though, and he did not complaint.

Things were looking up. Donghae was not being the husband Hyukjae would love him to be, but at least they did spent some time together at home. Donghae almost felt like home for Hyukjae.

Tuesday, two weeks after that fateful day that made everything bearable, Hyukjae was approached by Donghae while he was hanging the laundry outside. He had just hung a towel on the clothing line and turned around to get another cloth when he almost lost his footing, shocked to see Donghae standing there. Placing a hand on his chest and releasing a long breath, he asked Donghae what he wanted.

“You need to come to my gallery tonight.”

Hyukjae’s brows furrowed, “What for?”

“Annual ceremony. Today is the date I opened the gallery. The press will be there, and I don’t want them to think that my husband is not supportive of my work,” Donghae gave him a crooked smile, with the corner of his eyes wrinkling, before it was wiped off his face, “No choice. You have to go. We’ll leave together later.” He walked inside then, leaving Hyukjae alone with the clothes. Hyukjae did not know how to act as he stared at Donghae. He continued hanging the clothes, though his mind was elsewhere.

Hyukjae had never been to Donghae’s gallery, he did not even know where it was. If the press would interview him about Donghae, Hyukjae was afraid if he could not answer.  He did not know of Donghae’s work, the paintings he did. He wondered why he never tried to find out about them. Then, he remembered he had that one art he loved made by Donghae, that he looked at nearly every day, hidden in his car’s dashboard. He did not need to see all those other arts to know how talented Donghae was, he had a drawing of himself personally made by his husband. He smiled, knowing if he would be interviewed, he would give all the praise Donghae deserved.

Lunch came and they ate together. Hyukjae had just placed all the plates inside the sink when suddenly his wrist was grabbed and he was dragged toward the stairs, “Yah!” he yelped as Donghae pulled him.

“I need to know what you are planning to wear for tonight,” said Donghae who still had a hold on Hyukjae as they climbed up to their room. As soon as the got in, he released Hyukjae’s wrist and placed his hands on his hip, “Tell me.”

Hyukjae frowned slightly, “My clothes?”

Donghae snorted, “Yes, but which one?”

“Well, since it is formal, I will wear something that is appropriate, then. A black pants and shirt maybe?” Hyukjae thought out loud, thinking of the array of shirts he had in the closet. Suddenly, a clothes bag was shoved into his hand. He opened the zip and found a black suit, a midnight blue shirt along with a black tie.

“I don’t trust your fashion sense.”

Hyukjae pouted slightly at Donghae’s remark. 

It was four hours later when Hyukjae found himself in front of the mirror, already wearing his suit handsomely. It was obvious that the suit was tailored for him, and Hyukjae knew his mother-in-law must be the one who made it. He sprayed his cologne and then used his hand to neaten his hair. As he was looking at his reflection, liking how he looked, he was shoved to the side by Donghae all of a sudden. He was about to glare at his husband but then his eyes roamed Donghae’s attire. Donghae was wearing a suit and shirt of the same colour as him, only he was wearing a bow and not a tie. Hyukjae liked what he was seeing.

Actually, Donghae was about to put on a bow, his hand fumbling as he tried to tie it. Hyukjae hid his grin as he watched Donghae getting frustrated and kept on huffing every time he failed to make the bow right. Taking pity on him after Donghae tried for the seventh time, Hyukjae took the piece of clothing of his husband and helped tied it around his neck. Donghae let him did it without a single word.

“You are a bit clumsy, you know that?” said Hyukjae just as he finished tying the bow.

“I don’t need your input.” 

Hyukjae shrugged as he followed Donghae out the room and they headed to the venue.

A lot of people was there when they arrived, lined on the left and right side at the entrance. Donghae parked right in front of it and they got off. Hyukjae bowed and smiled as he stood frozen after he shut the car’s door. He saw his in-laws closed by and was about to head to them when suddenly, a hand slipped into his. He turned and found Donghae smiling – such a beautiful sight – at him. He was staring at his husband when an uproar of claps almost caused him to go deaf. He walked with Donghae inside, with people congratulating Donghae as they walked between them. Hyukjae felt like it was his wedding all over again.

Donghae let go of his hand right before he went to the podium set on a small stage and everyone crowded in front of it. Hyukjae listened to the speech wholeheartedly, feeling proud of his husband standing up there. Impulsively, he held out his hand for Donghae to take as the other was about to get down from the stage. Hyukjae ignored the ‘awww’ coming from the audience, but, he noticed how Donghae smiled almost shyly at them. That was the last time Hyukjae saw Donghae before the end of ceremony. They moved apart as Donghae went to talk with those who had came.

Hyukjae was left to wander by himself around the gallery with a glass of champagne. It was a vast place, with not just arts by Donghae but other artists too. The sculptures were interesting and Hyukjae only then realized that many things were taken as arts, even something that seemed ordinary. He was reading an explanation about a painting when he was approached by an interviewer from a magazine. He was asked to tell his opinions about his husband’s work. 

Hyukjae breathed in deep once before he said, full of genuine, “I think my husband is a very talented artist. I haven’t seen a lot of his works, to be honest. Though, judging by the few I have, I know he is one of the best in the world, at least in my eyes. I know people might thing that I am saying this because he is my husband, but, I am actually saying this as someone who fell in love with an art made by him. He has a gifted hand and I am so proud of him. That is all I can say.” 

He was asked a couple of questions more before he thanked the interviewer and went to eat the food served with his in-laws. 

The ceremony ended at almost 10pm. Hyukjae thanked those who came and shook hand with a few. As the guests headed to the door, he continued wandering. He went to the painting he had seen people crowded most. It was the Midnight Blues.

Hyukjae touched the glass encasing the painting. It was wonderful. He knew this was Donghae’s work without even needing to read the plate under the art. Just like how he had felt something for other paintings done by Donghae, he felt something intriguing about this one too. There was a story behind it. Donghae was someone who paint not with feelings, but he painted his feelings on each canvas. Hyukjae wished he knew the story and the feeling Donghae tried to convey with this particular painting. All he felt was sadness radiating from the shadows on the painting, the sadness he saw in Donghae’s eyes. 

“Hands off the glass.”

Hyukjae cleared his throat and he quickly dropped his hand as he heard the echo of Donghae’s footsteps getting closer in the now empty gallery, except for the two of them, “Sorry. Didn’t know I can’t touch it.”

“You can,” said Donghae, now standing next to him, but, he stared at the painting instead of Hyukjae, “But, you will need to wipe the entire glass after you do.”

“I can do that.”

Donghae looked at him for a moment with his brow raised, “Let’s go.” He turned to head to the entrance.

Hyukjae contemplated whether he should just follow or voiced out a question he had wanted to ask ever since he went around looking at the arts in the gallery. He chose to voice it, “Can you tell me something?”

Donghae stopped in his track and faced him again, “What?”

“Have you ever drawn yourself?”

“No,” came the short answer and Donghae’s footsteps once again echoed with each step he took.

“Why?” Hyukjae shouted loud enough for him to be heard.

“None of your business.”

Hyukjae hoped he did not hinder any progress they had made in their relationship as he ran to the entrance only to found it locked and would not slide open automatically as it should. He stared at Donghae who stood at the other side of the glass. Hyukjae pressed the palm of his hands together, pleading silently to Donghae with eyes, asking him to open the door. 

Donghae smirked and shook his head, twirling a set of keys with his finger. 

Hyukjae placed his hands on the glass, still begging, wetting his eyes. He grinned when Donghae came closer, but stepped back when Donghae used his breath to make the glass foggy. Using his finger, Donghae wrote ‘0718’. Hyukjae looked at him, puzzled. Rolling his eyes, Donghae pointed toward his left. Following his finger, Hyukjae noticed the lock. The numbers were the passcode. He smiled wide as he entered the code and then walked out. After Donghae locked the gallery once again, they headed home.

Hyukjae could not stop smiling during the entire ride; Donghae had entrusted him with the passcode to the gallery.

It was their two-months anniversary soon after that. Hyukjae ran into the kitchen and went straight to the fridge near the back, in his hand a bouquet of fresh tulips while a huge smile was spread on his face. Closing fridge’s door after keeping the flower inside it, he leaned against it, catching his breath. 

“Flowers for your husband, Hyukjae?”

Hyukjae smiled at one of the station chefs working at the restaurant, Chef Lee Yikyung, who had worked in the restaurant for almost eight years. Standing next to the man was Myungsoo who shook his head.

“It’s their two-months anniversary, chef. Honestly, Hyukjae hyung, are you going to celebrate every month until you reach one year?”

Hyukjae stood up straight, “No, okay? Just the first two months. Besides, it is Valentine’s Day today. How can I not celebrate? Geez, you are you just jealous, Myung-ah.”

Myungsoo snorted, “Not even one moment.” The younger left and went to his station.

Chef Yikyung laughed and pat Hyukjae, “Ignore him. Celebrate as much as you want. Happy Anniversary, Hyukjae.”

“Thank you, chef.”

Hyukjae drove home with his eyes bright even though it was nearing 2am. He kept thinking about how different the first and the second month of his marriage had been. Things just kept going better and better. While the first month had been full of silent longing and sorrow, the second was filled with progressing and getting closer. Hyukjae wanted to believe so much that one day, Donghae would be that husband he wished for him to be. It did not matter if it would took months or years. Slowly, and Hyukjae was willing to wait patiently.

He smelt the flowers as he got off the car, happy that it was still fresh and lively. He purposely did not pick a pink or red ones, as he had told Donghae that they were going to be friends first. Entering the house, Hyukjae laughed as he picked up the jacket on the floor, knowing that habit of his husband would be so hard to break, but he would work on it one day. He laid the jacket over the couch and took off his, planning on just doing them tomorrow. Climbing up the stairs, Hyukjae bit his lip. At this moment, he only hoped that Donghae would accept the flowers.

Hyukjae was surprised to see the door of the room was not fully closed and the light was still on. Not thinking much about it he entered, but he regretted he ever did. The bouquet in his hand slid off and onto the floor.

In front of him was his husband entangled with a woman. They were kissing, biting, groping. Hyukjae did not know what else as his eyes blurred. His heart was in pain. He felt as if he was broken. A dry sob left his mouth and a quiet whimper called out to Donghae. The motion in front of him stopped, but Hyukjae’s tears were just starting. He felt shattered. 

Greeting his teeth, Hyukjae looked at the woman, “Get out,” his voice was not loud, but it was filled with venom. The woman, probably sensing it, got up and grabbed her blouse from the floor, running out of the room.

“Yah, where are you going?” it was Donghae who shouted. He pushed himself up from the bed and headed toward the door. Just by the way his words slurred and his walk, Hyukjae knew his husband was drunk. But, that fact did not help mend his heart. He stopped Donghae from going out of the room, shoving him back inside.

“How could you?” Hyukjae said in that same low voice, but this time, it was laced with hurt and pain, “How could…”

“Oh, you want to play?” Donghae grinned and slung his arm around Hyukjae.

Hyukjae shoved him away, “I know you don’t love me. I accept that. But, you could have respected me! This is my house! This is my bed! Our bed that we share each night! How could you…” Hyukjae’s voice broke.

“Shhhh. Shh,”  Donghae placed a finger on his lips and then he giggled, clapping once before he placed the finger back on his lips, “No need to talk. Let’s just play, okay?” He placed a hand on Hyukjae’s shoulder.

Hyukjae raised his hand, tried to hold himself, but he could not. He slapped Donghae and the other stumbled back, holding his cheek, “Don’t touch me.”

Donghae stood up then and glared at him. He smirked, “You think you so good? Oh please. You just a mama’s boy, working in your mom’s restaurant. You are not even qualified. What makes you so good when everything is given by your mom? You’re worthless,” Then, he giggled.

That was adding salt to the wound, “So, that’s what you think of me? After all I did for you? After I cleaned up after you? After I feed you with food I cooked with my hands? I’m worthless. Then, what are you?”

Suddenly, Donghae grabbed Hyukjae and shoved him onto the bed, climbing on top of him and pining Hyukjae there, “Shhhhh.” He giggled and then moved in to kiss Hyukjae, but he was pushed away. 

Hyukjae got off the bed and he pulled Donghae up and until the door, shoving him out and closing the door. He leaned against it, listening to his husband knocking from the other side. Hyukjae slid down to the floor just like his tears that ran down his face. 

“Yah, husband. Let’s play,” Hyukjae heard Donghae whined and kept knocking.

Hyukjae got up and stripped the bed sheets off with so much forced, ripping them. He could not even bring himself to lie on the bed. He went back to the door and sat against it, feeling drained and defeated. The knocking was still there, but it was soft and far in between. With blurry eyes, Hyukjae grabbed the bouquet he had dropped near the door. He stared at it for a moment, but it only brought fresh tears to his eyes. He threw it across the room. 

The knocking had stopped entirely. Hyukjae pressed the hilt of his hands to his eyes. His heart was the one beating harshly non-stop.

He did not deserve this.

I tried preparing all of you for the last scene with that gifs at the top. And last chapter’s title was also a hint actually. I’m sorry, well not really. I have tissues and cookies for all of you. Anyway, this is 1000 words more or less than last chapter and it might be the longest for the entire story. I am so mean, aren’t I? /evil laugh/

P.s. I hope you enjoyed the chapter /author winks/

P.p.s. Yes, you are allowed to curse at me.

P.p.p.s. Thoughts? Do let go of your frustration.