The usual 3hr 34mins drive seems to be a lot longer each time he travels back home. It’s not because he doesn't want to go back to Seoul, it's just that each time he goes to Mokpo, a part of him doesn't want to return. Mokpo is home, it’s always been so and it always will be. It’s where he took his first steps in his father’s arms, it’s where he used to collect and sell used bottles to earn a little extra money for his grandparents, it’s where his brother taught him to ride a bicycle, it’s where his mother showed him how to plant seeds into the soil and water them every day till the plant sprouted. It’s where he lost his father, and buried him in the same soil, never to see his face again. 

And yet, Mokpo’s air is like a mother’s hug, enveloping him from all sides, his back and running fingers through his hair, as if welcoming him on his return from an exhausting journey. 

“Hyung, can I roll down my window a little further down? It’s so windy out there, I want to feel it against my skin,” Donghae asks quietly without looking away from the window. 

Yesterday, when Donghae had mentioned to Jinoo that he and Donghwa were headed to Mokpo for the day, Jinoo had offered to drive them both, not only because he wanted to be away from the city for a bit but also because he wanted to be with his friends. Needless to say, Donghae had readily agreed. 

“Go ahead Donghae. The weather is pleasant outside, we’ll just turn off the aircon,” Donghwa replies softly from the second seat, as Jinoo uses the buttons on the driver’s door to roll down Donghae’s window. 

Donghae immediately takes off his sunglasses and cap, as he leans his head outside the window, feeling the wind caress his hair. As he feels himself tear up, he quickly swallows in an attempt to hold back the tears. 

But then a much bigger hand wraps around his smaller one that’s lying limply in his lap and he turns to the side to look at the man sitting next to him. There is a gentle smile on his face, and his soft eyes seem to be telling Donghae that even if he cries, even if he lets out his tears, it will be okay. He will be okay. 

So Donghae looks back outside, tilts his head up at the sun like a sunflower ready to soak in the rays, closes his eyes and lets his tears fall. They feel warm on his cheeks, readily sliding down his jaw and onto his neck, soaking into the collar of his shirt. He doesn’t really cry, he just lets out the heaviness in his chest, and right next to him sits the man who always seems to find the sadness within him and successfully takes it away. Hyukjae slides closer to Donghae, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as they begin to shake faintly. This is how it’s always been since the first time Donghae brought Hyukjae to his father’s grave. 

*

Jinoo decides to wait in the car once he has briefly visited Donghae’s father’s grave. He wants to give the brothers some alone time to pay their respects and talk to their father. 

From the car, he can see Donghae sitting at the foot of the grave, his shoulders hunched over, as Donghwa runs soothing circles all over his back. Jinoo sees Hyukjae walking around the graveyard picking something up, and he’s unable to think of what he could possibly be doing. After a while when he sees Donghwa walking back towards the car, he’s about to start the ignition but soon realises that Donghae still hasn’t moved and Hyukjae is headed Donghae’s way instead. So Jinoo just sits and waits. Donghae can have as much time as he needs, they’re definitely in no hurry to leave. 

*

Hyukjae stands and waits a little further away, knowing that he’ll be asked to come forward when he’s needed. So he’s a little surprised that instead of Donghae calling him over, it’s Donghwa who walks towards him. 

Placing a hand on Hyukjae’s shoulder, Donghwa looks at him and smiles sadly. Hyukjae notices the faint tear stains on his cheeks, “He keeps breaking down even though I’ve tried my best here. Jinoo and I are headed to the market to buy some stuff before we head home to meet oumma. He’s all yours now.”

Hyukjae nods, biting his lips as he feels a lump in his throat that he unsuccessfully tries to swallow. There are very few things in the world that make him feel like his heart is being crushed, and Donghae’s sad tears are definitely in the top three.

As Donghwa gives his shoulder a little squeeze and walks away, Hyukjae slowly begins to take steps towards Donghae, who seems to be playing with the slightly damp soil at the foot of the grave. If Donghae notices Hyukjae crossing his legs and sitting down on the ground next to him, Donghae doesn’t show a sign. 

Hyukjae briefly glances at Donghae before handing him a bunch of very roughly picked flowers, “I brought these for you, well, collected. For you to give them to abeoji.”

He places the bunch of small pink flowers on Donghae’s lap with uncertainty, waiting for the younger man to show him a reaction. 

Hyukjae is taken by surprise when Donghae speaks up, his voice sounding sore from all the silent crying earlier and just now, “Cape marguerite,” he says in a voice that is barely audible. 

“What?” Hyukjae can not help but lean a bit closer to try to understand what Donghae just said. 

This time, Donghae’s reply is a little louder, “Cape marguerite. It’s a wild flower that grows around Mokpo. No one plants the seeds, they just pollinate. No one waters them, they just drink from the rain. Despite all the odds, they survive in the wild and have the most electric pink colour. They don’t have much of a scent, but they do look pretty right?”

Hyukjae bends forward and looks at Donghae, eager to meet his eyes because that’s the only way he will be able to figure out how Donghae is really feeling in that moment.

Sad, his eyes are sad. There’s just endless sadness in those doe-like eyes and Hyukjae knows he could sell his soul to fill them up with happiness again, “Yes Donghae, they’re the prettiest. I collected them from around here because I didn’t want us to come empty handed to meet abeoji, right?”

In a carefully calculated move, Hyukjae extends his palm towards Donghae, and to his surprise, Donghae places his hand on Hyukjae’s, squeezing it firmly, “You know why these are special?” 

Hyukjae shakes his head, scooting closer so that their knees are brushing against each other,”I don't, but I’d like to know.” 

Hyukjae waits silently, as Donghae drops the soil from his palm and turns his body to face Hyukjae entirely. He exhales deeply before he starts to speak, his hand still entwined with Hyukjae’s. 

“When appa used to come home from work late at night, he used to pluck these off from some sidewalk and bring them for me. When I woke up in the morning to go to school, I’d find these floating in a bowl of water on my bedside table. It was his way of apologising to me for being unable to spend playtime with me,” Donghae pauses and lets go of Hyukjae’s hand, only to hold it in both of his own, tracing invisible patterns on the inside of his palm. It’s something he’s been doing for years, it’s something Hyukjae always lets him do just because it calms down his nerves, “When I’d enter the kitchen in the morning to see oumma making breakfast for us, I’d notice the same flowers stuck inside the messy braid hanging down her neck.”

Donghae smiles widely as he finally looks up at Hyukjae, meeting his gaze, “These flowers don’t make me sad Hyukjae. These flowers remind me of a beautiful time, a precious time I spent in the warmth of my house with my parents.”

Hyukjae suddenly doesn’t know where to look. Donghae just shared something very personal with him and he feels like he should say something but words seem to fail him at that moment. 

Carelessly, he splutters what comes to his mind, “I really don’t know what to say Hae, I just did what I felt like doing, I hope this was-”

Donghae interrupts him, giving him his brightest smile yet, “Thank you. Thank you for bringing these flowers for me to give to appa. You don’t have to say anything really,” he picks up the flowers from his lap and places them in Hyukjae’s hand, wrapping Hyukjae’s fingers around their stems, “There you go. Now give them to appa.”

Hyukjae is taken aback. He hadn’t expected Donghae to do this, ask him to place the flowers on the grave. He’d thought it was something Donghae would do himself. It’s an act of affection for one’s parent and Hyukjae is definitely conflicted. 

But his doubts are cleared when Donghae takes hold of his wrist and guides him to place the flowers on the mown grass over the grave. 

“Here you go,” Donghae mutters, and Hyukjae knows he’s crying again, “Now greet appa like you always have.”

Hyukjae feels the weight on his arm as Donghae sags against him and so he’s careful while bowing his head as low as he can, “abeoji, it’s Hyukjae here. I’m uhh sure you haven’t forgotten me.”

When he feels Donghae chuckle next to him, Hyukjae feel