THE CITY IS LOUD, BUSY, AND STUFFY. Hyukjae gets off the train with his bag strapped over his shoulder and immediately slouches to avoid the wave of people around him. He keeps one hand curled around the cloth of the strap on his shoulder. He quickly ducks through the crowd, mumbling apologies to people around him who don't seem to care.

When he finally gets to the wall, Hyukjae breathes a sigh of relief and rests on the hard surface. He scans the crowd for a familiar face. A distinct push of panic in his chest when he sees nothing. Just a mass of faceless people who don't care about him or anyone else.

Was he supposed to be here? What was he even doing here, he doesn't belong here, this is —

“Hyukjae!”

Hyukjae’s head snaps up, all thoughts dispelled but one: Donghae.

Hyukjae turns toward the voice, looking through the featureless crowd for Donghae.

“Donghae?” he says, but the voice is lost in the buzz of the crowd.

“Hello Hyukjae,” Donghae says from beside him, startling him. Hyukjae steps backward and an involuntary smile spread across his face as he drinks in the sight of the man before him.

“Donghae!”

Donghae’s grin mirrors his own and without another word exchanged, Donghae grabs his arm and pulls him through the mass of people in the station. When they exit the station, Donghae’s hand drops, allowing for them to walk side by side. His hand is empty with loss of Donghae’s warmth on his wrist.

They thread through the streets of Cambridge. Hyukjae’s mouth falls open as he takes in the tall buildings that surround him. The streets are crowded, cars are all over the street, paperboys are yelling the latest titles are yelling the latest headlines.

Hyukjae turns his gaze away from the buildings and the people and looks intently at Donghae to tune out the chaos. The other boy — no, a man now — had certainly grown in the almost two years they had been apart. He's wearing a loose cardigan over a dress shirt and a grey tie, complete with light beige slacks and dress shoes. All in all, Donghae looks very much like a city boy and Hyukjae cannot wait until they get to Donghae’s place so Hyukjae cam tears it off of him.

Or at least remove it very quickly, if they're expensive articles of clothing.

Donghae pulls him into a building and leads him to a flight of stairs. They climb three floors up before they reach the designated floor.

“Here,” Donghae says. He fishes a key from his pocket and unlocks the door, opening it to let Hyukjae inside.

As soon as Donghae has closed the door behind them, Hyukjae turns and pins Donghae to the door. His hands find their place on either side of Donghae waist and their lips crash together.

His arms wrap around Donghae’s waist as Donghae leans into his touch and reciprocates the kiss.

“Donghae,” Hyukjae breathes when he pulls back for air and then immediately dives in for another kiss. His teeth rake across Donghae’s skin as he moves down to Donghae’s neck. “Missed you so much.”

They somehow fumble their way into Donghae’s bedroom and fall onto the bed.

“I missed you,” Hyukjae repeats.

“And I, you, Hyukjae,” Donghae says with a smile.

—

Hyukjae is not ashamed to say they spent the rest of the day in bed, relearning each other’s bodies. They had fallen asleep in each other’s arms and waking up with Donghae’s face in his line of sight is enough for any sort of tension and worry to seep from his body immediately.

He lets himself sink back into the pillows and takes in the sight before him.

Donghae is still sleeping soundly, his hair messy and spread across the pillow. Hyukjae takes a moment to stare at Donghae’s eyelashes fanned across his cheek — he notes that the subtle darkness of eye bags that had always been present underneath Donghae’s eyes are still present. Reaching out, Hyukjae gently runs a finger over the other man’s cheek, relishing the smooth, soft skin beneath his touch. Donghae’s pale skin is ivory in the setting sun.  

He carefully hooks a loose strand of hair behind Donghae’s ear to allow himself a better view of the other man’s face. After a moment of staring, he brushes his hand through Donghae’s hair and rubs a section of smooth silky hair between his fingers, savouring the feeling of the messy, sleep-mussed hair between his hair. As he does so, he observes Donghae’s face. Besides exhaustion, Donghae’s face has also matured. His chest pangs at the obvious visual of the time he has missed with Donghae. The other man’s face is longer now, his jaw and cheekbones more pronounced. Hyukjae runs a finger over Donghae’s jaw, and then once again ghosts over his cheek only to stop when Donghae begins to stir.

Donghae frowns at Hyukjae’s touch and lets out a sleepy mewl (almost like a cat and Hyukjae’s heart melts) before slowly opening his eyes. He blinks once and then twice at Hyukjae before a slow smile spreads across his face.

“Hyukjae,” he says, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Hello, Donghae,” Hyukjae whispers. Donghae grabs onto the hand Hyukjae has on his cheek. Donghae’s hands are warm and Hyukjae twists his grip so their fingers are linked and pull their hands towards his chest.

He hugs Donghae’s arm and rubs soft circles on the back of the other man’s hand.

Donghae lets out a sigh and shifts so his body is closer to Hyukjae’s, their combined warmth blending together into a cocoon of warmth. They fall silent, happy to simply rest in each other’s embrace.

“What time is it,” Donghae mutters into his shoulder. Hyukjae blinks before stretching his neck to catch a glimpse of the clock.

“Eight,” he says. Donghae’s head shoots up.

“Morning?” he says.

“Evening,” Hyukjae corrects and Donghae relaxes.

“Ah,” he says. “Though I suppose it wouldn't be too big a problem if it were morning it wouldn't be too much of a problem because it's Sunday tomorrow.”

Hyukjae nods just as Donghae wrinkles his nose.

“Want to go out for dinner? I will show you the finer aspects of nightlife in Boston,” he says as he pulls himself from Hyukjae’s arms. Hyukjae props himself up and enjoys the view of Donghae getting dressed, admiring the way his lover’s muscles stretch and flex as he pulls his arms through each sleeve.

“Hyukjae?” Donghae asks, snapping Hyukjae out of his reverie. Hyukjae blinks.

“Yes?”

“Get dressed,” Donghae says, the corner of his lip quirks with thinly veiled amusement. Hyukjae lets out a dramatic sigh, tossing the covers off of his body, lamenting momentarily about the loss of warmth. He slides out of bed with a groan.

“You’re such a child, Hyukjae,” Donghae says, his voice soft and fond. Hyukjae shoots Donghae a smirk and grabs a shirt, pulling it over. He takes erse pleasure when he notes that Donghae is also staring at him with hungry eyes.

“Want to stay in?” Hyukjae baits. Donghae smiles and shakes his head.

“Come on,” he says and leaves the room. Hyukjae follows, taking the opportunity to observe Donghae’s apartment as he walks.

It's very… Donghae. Hyukjae cannot think of any other word that could possibly describe the place. Donghae’s bedroom back home is neat to the point of — tightly packed sheets, spotless shelves, and complete lack of a personal touch.

This apartment is almost the exact opposite. It doesn't escape Hyukjae’s notice that Donghae hadn't bothered to make the bed. The desk tucked in the corner near the couch is cluttered with sheets and sheet of paper, open books, pens, and ink.

Above the desk is what looks to be a chalkboard, covered in hastily scribbled equations Hyukjae has no hope of understanding, along with several taped sheets of wrinkled paper. And beside the chalkboard… beside the chalkboard is a corkboard pinned with his letters.

Hyukjae drifts over to the board almost automatically, lifting one of the letters up with a single finger. Other than the folds Hyukjae had made to fit the letter in the envelope, the paper (unlike the other sheets of paper on Donghae’s desk) is pristine.

“You kept these,” Hyukjae murmurs. He feels Donghae’s arm snake around his waist and head rest on his shoulder.

“Of course,” Donghae says before planting a kiss on the exposed skin of Hyukjae’s neck.

Hyukjae hums. He had meant out in the open, something he could never do back home. Donghae's letters, his declaration of love and longing, is for his eyes only. No one can see those words.

“Nobody comes up here,” Donghae says as if sensing his thoughts. “So I like having your words nearby.” Hyukjae smiles and turns, planting a quick kiss on Donghae’s cheek.

“I love you,” Hyukjae says, almost breathless with the emotion that pushes in his chest. He can feel Donghae’s smile spread across his skin.

“And I, you,” Donghae says. His hand slides down Hyukjae’s waist to grab his hand, pulling him in the direction of the door. “Come on.”

Hyukjae lets himself be pulled down the stairs. Once again, as soon as they reach the streets, Donghae drops his hand. Hyukjae tries not to miss the contact too much. Donghae flashes him a small smile, a small upturn of the lips that brighten up his face and make Hyukjae warm inside.

“It’s a long walk,” Donghae says as they walk. He then speeds up from a stroll to a brisk walk. Hyukjae blinks and jogs to catch up.

“Wait, how long is long?”

“Oh, about an hour,” he says. Hyukjae’s eyebrow shoots up.

“An hour,” he repeats.

“Yes,” Donghae agrees. It doesn’t even take an hour to walk from one end of town to another.

“Why not somewhere around here?”

“I know that nothing here has any merit for a tourist such as yourself. Boston is where the nightlife happens,” Donghae says simply, his tone coy and teasing.

“I don’t need to experience the city nightlife, do I?” Hyukjae mutters. Donghae stops and frowns before pulling Hyukjae into the crevice of two buildings. The shadows of the buildings were a cover in the city, concealing them from the eyes of casual passersby.

Donghae places his hands on Hyukjae’s shoulder, presses their foreheads together, and chuckles.

“Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the Harvard library. You will be in awe,” Donghae says. “Tonight, we are going to meet my friends at the bar. In Boston. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Hyukjae says. He closes his eyes.

“You are the best,” Donghae mutters.

“I know,” Hyukjae says. Donghae chuckles at Hyukjae’s response.

“What am I to you, Donghae?” Hyukjae whispers when a heavy silence falls between them.

“Everything,” Donghae says, a simple punctuated sentence that hits Hyukjae right in the centre of his chest. He squeezes his eyes shut.

“And to your friends, who am I to you,” Hyukjae clarifies when he composes himself.

“Oh,” Donghae says and then hesitates. “Childhood friend.”

Hyukjae tilts his head to the side, considering the excuse.

“Not a lie.”

“No, not a lie,” Donghae says, straightening. “And we’re definitely going to be late, so come along, Hyukjae.”

—

By the time Donghae and Hyukjae make it to the designated bar, the sun is on the horizon and the streets have settled. The number of people out and about is significantly fewer, fewer crowding them as they walked. Hyukjae takes the moment before they enter the bar to savour the quiet.

“Here,” Donghae says, pulling open the door. Immediately, Hyukjae’s ears are assaulted with a wall of sound — chatter of men and women enjoying the night’s pleasures. It's louder than anything Hyukjae has ever had the displeasure of experiencing, but he steels himself and makes his way in.

“You'll get used to the noise,” Donghae says. “And if you're really uncomfortable we can leave early. I know it is overwhelming; I apologize for subjecting you to this on your first night, but once Siwon is set on something, no one is going to change his mind.”

“Donghae!” calls a voice from across the bar, as if on cue. Hyukjae startles, but Donghae brightens, his hand draping across Hyukjae’s shoulder and steering him across the room.

“That’s Siwon,” Donghae mutters into Hyukjae’s ear as they walk. “He’s very rich. He’s also a lot of fun and a little brash, so try not to take anything he says too seriously.”

“I see,” Hyukjae says.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you,” Donghae says. When they reach the table, Donghae smiles brightly. “Siwon! Sungmin, Kyuhyun!”

“Donghae,” the three men chorus. One of the men, dressed to the nines in a three-piece suit stands up, raising an eyebrow at Hyukjae.

“Who’s this?”

“Siwon, meet Hyukjae, my best friend,” Donghae says, his fingers rubbing a comforting circle on the back of Hyukjae’s neck before moving his arm away to gesture between them. “Hyukjae, this is Siwon.”

Siwon flashes Hyukjae a wide smile, showing off a wide set of straight, white teeth. It irks Hyukjae immediately and Hyukjae’s returning smile feels more like a grimace.

“Nice to meet you,” Siwon says.

“You too,” Hyukjae mutters and sidles in beside Donghae. He shrinks into the seat, out of place surrounded by a group of men dressed in suits while only in a shabby button up. He is struck so suddenly by an overwhelming sense of resentment at Donghae for not warning him about this outing and its dress code that he almost gasps.

He stomps down on the unexpected emotion and bites his lip — this is not Donghae’s fault. Knowing Donghae, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. He’s too caught up in the thoughts of his academia and Hyukjae’s arrival, such thoughts of appearance are not something Donghae concerns himself over.

Taking a deep breath, Hyukjae focuses himself back to the conversation at hand, where Siwon is talking quite animatedly about something Hyukjae had clearly missed.

“... And should you for once bring your head out from the books it’s always buried in, you would know this, Donghae,” Siwon says.

Hyukjae glances over at Donghae, who is sitting with his head resting in his hand, his eyes alight with unspoken mirth.

“I apologize that I don’t keep with strangers’ love lives. It really is none of my concern.”

“Yes, says the man who spends his nights doing nothing but sitting in an observatory. You wouldn’t know love if it hit you in the face.”

Donghae’s eyes, if possible, glinted with even more amusement, and his hand brushes over Hyukjae’s leg for a second before he laces his fingers together on the table in front of him.

“I’m sure I’d know it more than you, Siwon,” he says. Hyukjae blinks, fighting the smile that threatens to spread across his face. Siwon frowns for a second before turning to Hyukjae.

“Well, what about you, Hyukjae?” he asks. “You apparently have known Donghae here for a long time, do you think he’d know romance?”

Hyukjae raises an eyebrow, pretending to think for a moment. His thoughts automatically jump to the times the spent, sitting at their favourite bridge, watching the sunset with their fingers intertwined. Not a word exchanged, but the warmth shared between them is enough to sate their hunger for each other.

“I would say so,” Hyukjae says. “You should have seen him when we were younger. Master of romance.”

The man sitting to the right of Siwon — Kyuhyun, if Hyukjae remembers correctly — begins cackling.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” he says. “That man does not look at anyone twice. Nothing matters to him more than the stars in the sky.”

“Oh?” Hyukjae says.

“I — that is not true,” Donghae says and he takes a sip of his drink. Hyukjae mirrors the action, taking a sip from the cup of unknown liquid in front of him. He immediately grimaces at the burning sensation as the drink goes down his throat.

“Oh,” Hyukjae coughs out. Donghae gives him a light tap on the back to help him out and Hyukjae pushes his hand away. “Not helping.”

“Sorry,” Donghae says. “I forgot you haven’t had such strong alcohol before.”

“Missing out in the country, huh?” Siwon says.

“Maybe for you,” Sungmin says. “You think alcohol is one of the seven wonders of the world.”

“That is because it is,” Siwon says. “I would stand on this table and deliver an ode to alcohol.”

“Oh, please do,” Kyuhyun says. “Please. I’d like to see that.”

“I second that,” Sungmin adds. Siwon’s eyes widen and he glances across the table, seeking for aid. Donghae ducks his head and chuckles.

“Well, you insisted,” he says. Hyukjae just blinks and shrugs.

Siwon glances around the room, still alive with chatter and laughter before sighing. He takes the bottle from the middle of the table, takes a swig and steps onto his chair to get onto the table. Donghae immediately grabs his glass to keep it from being knocked over. Hyukjae does the same and Kyuhyun and Sungmin follow suit.

“Here ye, here ye,” Siwon cries. The patrons of the bar immediately turn to Siwon. Hyukjae, under the scrutiny of everyone in the room, feels himself go red. He grabs onto Donghae’s arm, trying to hide behind the other man, with no success (because Donghae might have grown, but Hyukjae is still slightly taller).

Kyuhyun and Sungmin are roaring with laughter across from them as Siwon delivers his ode. Donghae is unsurprisingly quiet, but he doesn’t seem bothered by the sheer number of strangers staring at them.

Siwon is still speaking passionately about the bottle in his hand, holding it up to the light as he talks. Hyukjae wants the floor to just open up and swallow him.

With a grimace, he looks up at Siwon, who is finishing up his speech. Caught up in his actions, Siwon doesn’t seem to be aware of his location in relation to the table. Hyukjae watches in horror as Siwon takes a large step forward, missing the table entirely and meeting thin air.

Donghae seems to have been watching as well because he leaps out of his chair in attempts to catch the man before he hits the ground. He manages to catch Siwon’s arm, but the rest of Siwon’s body goes crashing to the floor, one arm catching another table.

Hyukjae supposes this is what happens all the time in bars. It seems to happen in slow motion: the bottle in Siwon’s hand shatters on the floor, one arm sweeps the cups off the table beside them, and finally, the man’s body hits the floor with a resounding thud.

After the carnage of the fall, a silence falls across the bar.

Then, Donghae, who is still holding onto Siwon’s arm, asks: “Are you okay?”

Siwon smirks from his contorted position on the floor.

“Just fine, Donghae, thank you,” he says. That seems to tip the ball over the edge because Kyuhyun snorts and everyone bursts out laughing. Hyukjae just sits back down in his chair, trying to fight off the complete mortification that threatens to overtake him.

—

To the surprise of absolutely no one, they get kicked out of the bar. Hyukjae feels his face heat up as they are ushered rather roughly out of the building.

Sungmin and Kyuhyun give them both a little wave as they head down the street. Hyukjae watches them as they turn the corner and disappear from view. When they’re gone, Siwon, who is slightly wet from the alcohol, turns to them.

“Did you guys walk her