That day's surprises weren't done yet. So it seemed. Donghae found it really strange when he spotted from afar his mother standing by their estate's entrance. Probably waiting for them to arrive, anxiously twisting the rim of her worn-out apron in her hands. She was never sparing valuable minutes to see the car arriving, what with food cooking or laundry drying... The brunet knitted his eyebrows and pulled over.

"Hi, mum," Donghae greeted once he got out of the car, Hyukjae bowing beside him.

He had the impression that the middle-aged woman's wrinkles were running deeper than before, that her smile was strained and her beckon to quickly wash up for dinner, a bit too impatient. The brunet didn't say anything, only exchanged a puzzled look with Hyukjae before following his mother in the house. They didn't make any speculations, both silently deciding that it'd be safer to go with the simple excuse of her being tired. Hurrying to take a shower and put on clean clothes, the two men didn't even argue or physically fight as they were eagerly doing under any other situation. Reaching the kitchen's door, the delicious smell of hot food infiltrated their nostrils and momentarily eradicated all other thoughts. Hyukjae gently held the brunet back and went in first.

"You spoil us too much," he joked and took a heavy, steaming pot from Mrs. Lee's hands. Raising his eyebrows at Donghae, he discretely shook his head and placed the food on the middle of the table. The younger pressed his lips hard, ready to oppose the other man's prompts for silence. In the end, he let a long sigh and took his seat just as his mother was setting the last side-dishes.

"Had a long day?" she asked and took the ladle in one hand to fill the bowls with lamb stew.

Donghae mumbled something incoherent under his breath, and Hyukjae's foot landed subtly on his shin. Gripping his chopsticks and masking his painful shout with a cough, he attempted to return the gesture as the black-haired man was making conversation with the old woman. Donghae couldn't contain his whimper when his own foot contacted one of the table's wooden legs instead of Hyukjae's.

"What is it, son?" questioned Mrs. Lee, Hyukjae smirking at the younger behind his spoonful of rice.

"Too much... pepper..." spat the brunet and was offered a glass of water from his mother.

"As I was saying eomeoni​, there is indeed a general shortage of heating gas in this side of the country. The tanks are close to empty," accounted the man of their recent trip to the region.

"Thankfully, there's no much need for it anymore," commented Mrs. Lee and stared at her untouched bowl. Frowning as he watched the lady aimlessly twirling her chopsticks in the cooled-down broth, Hyukjae meaningfully widened his eyes at the younger for him to intervene. Clearing his throat twice, the young man spoke with the utter sensitivity that defines him.

"Mum, what's wrong?"

Mrs. Lee's eyes darted up and Hyukjae felt like pushing Donghae's head for a refreshing dive in the soup. No one moved for a few moments but then, the middle-aged woman put down her eating utensils and hid her face in her hands.

"Eat first. We can talk later..."

The brunet grimaced and let go of his chopsticks which fell on the table with a clatter. Pressing his mother to spill whatever it was that was bothering her, Donghae's voice raised the more he was met by the woman's refusal. He indignantly huffed, his fisted hand hitting the table.

"Donghae..." warned the older man, ready to stop the brunet before he'd do or say something he'd later regret.

"What?!" the other hissed and pierced the black-haired man with his dark brown eyes. "We're working all day and she won't even talk about what happened to her!"

"I don't th—" started Hyukjae in a calm voice.

"Nothing!"

Mrs. Lee's unexpected cry cut off the black-haired man's attempt to smooth the situation. He blinked confused while Donghae only growled and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Nothing happened to me..." continued the old woman in a more quiet tone and clutched her hands to keep them from trembling.

"What do you mean?"

"I... got a call," she began and paused to swallow the lump of tears that had formed ever since that morning. "From the hospital," she continued. Hyukjae's eyebrows furrowed and a deep line appeared on his forehead. Donghae pursued his lips tighter.

"Which hospital?" he slowly uttered, his mind racing.

"Mokpo... Your sister-in-law, she—"

A sudden sob caused the woman to stop, her eyes watering. Her son kicked back his chair and kneeled next to her, taking her shaking hands on his.

"She's in intensive care. The doctor said your brother took her there last night, she was complaining about pains in her belly all day. And she... she," Mrs. Lee sobbed again and gripped Donghae's hands, "she started bleeding in the car! The baby—"

"It's alive! You wouldn't be here if something else had happened!" the brunet raised his voice, waiting for his mother's confirmation. He had to be right!

"Y-yes. The baby is alright."

Donghae let a deep breath he wasn't aware he had been holding. Briefly closing his eyes to regain his collected state of mind, he stood up, pulling his seated mother in a hug.

"How's hyungsu?"

"Not well. They have her connected to supporting machines. Donghae-ah, what if—"

"Stop it!"

The brunet held the middle-aged woman close, letting her cry on his shirt rather than voicing thoughts and speculations unnecessary. During that painful exchange, Hyukjae's mouth dried, the tips of his fingers went numb, a knot was tied in his stomach, his breath was caught on his throat. How could something like that happen here? At his shelter, his safe haven... How could scarring events of his warped past be repeated? Was he really, completely delusional to believe that he had finally escaped from the shadows hunting him all his life?

Hyukjae responded as if in autopilot when the younger man urged him to help clean the table while his mother was resting. He didn't know what to say. His mouth would open but no words were flowing. Everything had been so sudden, the sense of protection had been shattered in seconds. Still... Donghae didn't ask for more, the black-haired man's lack of verbal reaction indicating his compassion. The younger knew about his past. He knew how difficult it had been. That's why he didn't request nothing more that Hyukjae being there. Only late at night, when both of them headed to their rooms, the older stopped Donghae before he could shut himself away from him, pulling him in a short, comforting hug. Hyukjae really had a problem with expressing through words his caring. Maybe not as bad as Donghae, but still pretty bad.

The younger had the impression the heavy weight on his chest partly transferred to Hyukjae - that the other man, even if he wasn't able to say what he wanted, was more than willing to share the burden.

Because that's what friends do.

"Hyukjae..." he hesitantly spoke, an ounce of childish innocence making its appearance on his features. "Can we sleep together again?"

His lips parted in momentary wonder before the older man nodded. Following the brunet in his bedroom, Hyukjae realised he hadn't seen it once during his st