nine ;

A soft whimper flew out of Donghae’s trembling lips, weak and breathless, meanwhile all he could make out were the feathery words of comfort that were tenderly being whispered into his hair. Hands quavering against his chest, he could hear each of them softly echoing to his ears with the rawest kind of emotions, until it seemed like they were the only sounds that prevailed in his unsettled world. They were small and melodious within the tranquility of the approaching night, but almost too quiet to be understood; slightly muffled by the noisy blasts of wind and snow outside, it was as though they were only a purr of indistinguishable notes he couldn’t recognize unless he gathered all his attention and listened very carefully.

The raven-haired boy quickly found himself not caring one bit about it, however, solely focusing on the peaceful cadence of the other’s voice instead.

In truth, it didn’t matter whether he could grasp the hushed flow of sweet words or not; all he truly needed was to hear them and to be versed in the fact that they wouldn’t leave him for all the world. As long as the round vowels that harmoniously resonated in the air remained there, gently seeping in his soul, then he knew he would be fine; they slowly soothed the stiffness that kept his whole body painfully tense, all the while softly reminding him that he was not alone – and that someone was sincerely concerned about him.

Donghae quietly wondered if he had ever felt safer than he did right then, tightly held into Hyukjae’s warm embrace. Strong arms were comfortingly wrapped around his slumped frame, unwavering and unyielding as they stood there, at some odd place he couldn’t recall. The hug was careful and affectionate, though also colored with a sort of fretful determination that easily told how much the boy was scared he might try to run away from him once again. The wordless gesture, in spite of being oddly adorable, was nonetheless absolutely absurd in his opinion.

Why would he go anywhere when all he needed and wanted was right there, beside him?

There was, as a matter of fact, no other place he would rather be than with Hyukjae. He would be stupid if he did, when even the smallest, bothersome details only he was bound to notice – such as the clear noise of water dripping in the sink, or the muffled sound of snowflakes falling over the town for the countless time that winter – were all blissfully stifled into nothingness by the warm sensation of his lean body snugly pressed against his own.

Quietly relished into that pleasant feeling, he dazedly listened to the cadenced sounds of the boy’s heartbeat faintly thumping right next to his ear. It softly reached his own heart with a melodious rhythm, beating such as a sensitive lullaby that languorously eased him into a much welcome drowsiness. Soft thumbs gently soothing circles along his clothed back, prompting him to curl up even closer to him, until there were close to no space left between the two of them. Burying his nose into Hyukjae’s chest, the blue-eyed boy deeply inhaled the fascinating range of familiar fragrances that languidly reached his nostrils, and fluttered his eyes close when they wonderfully blended together. Growing peacefulness gently flowed in his dizzy mind and delicately enveloped him within undertones he knew he would recognize everywhere, until nothing else could matter anymore.

A somewhat comfortable silence then airily settled between the two boys, as they stood there, unmoving. It fell in the quiet room with an idle pace, such as a restorative draught which would lightly caress their prickly skin after the frenetic rush of a tough day. Donghae could almost feel it lightly prodding at his anxious soul and coaxing the wary barriers of his heart before carefully seeping in, with the same sort of tenderness he knew Hyukaje would always treat him with. It slowly smoothed out the irritation of his lingering anger and quietly surrounded the both of them, as though they were only twinkling stars in an endless freckled night.

The blue-eyed boy shakily breathed out at the thought, then quickly buried the tip of his nose into the other’s neck and closed his eyes. He knew he was safe there, more than anywhere else in this wide world, against the broad chest and in those strong arms – But for how long? a restless voice worriedly wondered in his mind.

As long as Hyukjae is here, he quietly thought.

“Do you want to go up and rest in my room?” the boy softly mumbled then, as a careful hand ran through his messy hair and delicately pulled him back into reality. He leaned into the touch, yet to be truly bothered about listening to him. “You’ll be more comfortable up there.”

The minute that his mind cleared up of its thick fog, Donghae found himself wincing at the sudden clearness he heard in Hyukjae’s tired voice.

His brain struggled for a long time to grasp the meaning of his sentence, however simple it actually was, prompting him to clutch his fingers harder around the crumpled tissue of his shirt. A soundless whimper then flew out of his lips as he heavily shifted against him, wearily trying to fight the urge to squeeze his eyes shut and ignore his call. Wincing at his own exhaustion, he painfully gathered his courage and finally looked up, seeking the familiar sight of sharp features.

Auburn orbs calmly caught his own as soon as he hesitantly tilted his head up, warm and unwavering. Yet, an aching mixture of guilt and earnest affection faintly glowed within them, too raw and sincere for him to handle at this point. His heart stirring sharply in his chest, he flinched and briefly adverted his eyes, before long fingers threaded themselves through his dark locks, their pace slow and comforting as they wordlessly gazed at each other.

“Donghae?” he repeated, as softly as ever, and with all the tenderness in the world.

The blue-eyed boy hesitated for a moment, before he prudently met his eyes for a second time. A strong need to tell him that nothing was his fault at all – that he wasn’t mad at him, and that he was sorry – swiftly rippled through his trembling body as soon as he seized them.

But the words felt took hard to speak up – too complex and exhausting for Donghae to form them on the tip of his numb tongue. He weakly nodded instead, wordlessly replying to his previous question, then frowned a little. “Please,” he mumbled as an afterthought.

Hyukjae gave him the saddest kind of grin and softly pecked his forehead, before slowly getting up. “Come on,” he uttered as he helped him on his feet. “Let’s go; I’ll keep you warm.”

*

“I’m tired,” Donghae quietly mumbled in the awakening night, tightly curled up into a ball in the middle of the bed.

Hyukjae briefly tensed at the weak sound of his voice, surprised when it suddenly broke a silence he hadn’t realized that had settled around them. Unconsciously attempting to get closer to its source, the student heavily shifted on the mattress and slowly opened his tired eyes, only to find himself dully blinking at the plain ceiling of his own room. He paused for a second and stared without a word, blankly taking in the familiar patterns of the lampshade his mother had chosen for him years ago.

It was odd how he still managed to focus on such random thing as its circular shape, when all his brain screamed for was relief; a painful headache was readily growing in his temples meanwhile his thoughts furiously spun around in his head, prompting him to flinch a bit.

His mind, as much as his whole body, felt heavy and restless as if he had just ran away from the disaster of a raging storm. Feeling sore and boneless, it was as though he could still feel its aftermath lingering on his limbs and remember all its smallest, painful details – the horrified cries, the mad growls, the enraged howling. What sounded like the furious hissing of the wind seemed to scream in his ears still, loud and scathing, while salty raindrops stained his wet cheeks and stubbornly kept on leaking from the corners of his red eyes, all of them seemingly unstoppable. Creeping under his skin, they prompted him to shiver uncontrollably and violently stomped on his state of mind, until even breathing sounded like a hard task.

But he valiantly pushed them all away – the pain, the fear, the guilt – and readily focused on what he cherished the most at this moment.

Heavily rolling onto his sides, his eyes almost instantly caught Donghae’s own blue orbs, and he fondly gazed at him while he absentmindedly pulled the blankets up to cover their shivering bodies. The student gave him a small but warm grin and gently his messy hair, pleasantly noting the way the blue-eyed boy automatically fluttered his eyes shut and leaned closer into his touch.

“I know,” he finally replied as he slowly ran his fingers through his dark locks.

Fragile emotions flashed across his handsome face, prompting his heart to clench achingly. He softly ran the tip of his thumb along his temple and down to the cute bump of his cheek, then rested it there.

Donghae seemed to hesitate for a small second, his brows furrowing into a conflicted expression, before he cautiously shifted closer to him, but not as much as he knew he usually would have – as if he was too exhausted to do so.

Or too angry, a small voice told him.

“But I can’t sleep,” he continued with a small whine, all traces of fury and pain briefly vanished off his voice when he frowned cutely.

Stalling a bit, the student felt guilt violently flare up in his chest at his innocent words. It abruptly rippled through him like brusque wildfire, burning his veins so hard he thought the intense pain would turn him blind. Bitter and sharp on the tip of his tongue, he felt its accusing hold angrily gripping on the bottom of his heart and pulling strongly, to the point he thought it might throttle him.

A wince taking him, Hyukjae bit on his lower lip and silently gazed at the other boy – at his troubled expression and at his haggard face –, then sadly murmured, “I know, Donghae.”

The latter mutely stared at him in response, scrutinizing him as though he had each and every answers to his restlessness. But Hyukjae had none of them, sadly, and thus all he could do was to let a small silence settle in the room.

Time idly went by, then – a vague notion they didn’t seem to recall anymore as they simply gazed at each other, countless of thoughts in their mind but never making it into full words.

They figured that they didn’t need them, however, and solely relied on the eye contact they held together, wordlessly trying to convey all their emotions in that one look. The raven-haired boy then unintentionally fluttered his eyes close, looking all kinds of exhausted, and grumbled under his breath in what sounded like petulant resignation. Looking for a more comfortable position, he rubbed the sides of his face against his pillow and snuggled into the warm blanket. His hand blindly sought for his own afterwards, before a contented sigh flew out of his lips when he was satisfied.

Hyukjae grinned slightly at his inadvertent adorableness and amused himself by tracing and retracing the soft lines of his handsome face, until he deemed them almost impossible to forget. They stood so close to one another, in that big house and in that narrow bed, that he was able to smell the fading scent of coffee his breathing was clouded with, admire the edges of his smooth features, and see the dark circles of exhaustion that widely spread under his closed eyes.

Their unhealthy sight prompted a large part of him to worry if he still thought of his pack, and most importantly of his injured mate. Nervously, he wondered whether Donghae was as scared as he was – or perhaps even more –, praying with all his might that the other wolf wouldn’t – go.

The urge to cradle the blue-eyed boy in his arms and never let go immediately took him at that horrible, gripping thought; he craved to tell him that everything would be ok, and that his pack-mates were finally fine, hidden somewhere in the protective darkness of their peaceful woods.

But was that a promise he could keep? Was that really something he could confidently tell Donghae, without having to waver or hesitate? No, it wasn’t – it definitely wasn’t, and that was what scared him the most. To be on the receiving end of his mistaken anger was one hurtful thing, but to be the witness of his angry, sorrowful tears was an entirely different matter; it was, in fact, all kinds of worse.

He did nothing but fear to see the same helpless expression on his face once more, and was most of all afraid to be its cause. But facts remained, as disturbing as they might be, and it pained him greatly to know the boy could come to hate him so fervently only for the simple act of living.

Hyukjae had never hated being human as much as he did that day.

“Tell me something,” Donghae then spoke up, startling him out of his thoughts before they could get too dark. He shifted next to him and got slightly closer, but enough to prompt a pleasant feeling to ripple through his chest as they distractedly entwined their fingers together. “About you,” he insisted. “Tell me something about your life. When you’re not with me.”

Surprised and a bit bemused, Hyukjae blinked at him in wonder. “I… – sorry?” He found himself blushing at his unexpected request and let out an embarrassed laugh, quickly adverting his eyes for a second. “About me?”

“Yes.” His gaze seemingly shining brighter than it did a second ago, Donghae cutely tilted his head to the side in genuine curiosity. He scooted closer on the mattress until their chest brushed together, then boldly lifted a finger and ran it along his lower lip, pinching it slightly. “Tell me,” he repeated firmly, demandingly pulling on the pink flesh. “I want to know more about you.”

Feeling somewhat pleased at his words, yet slightly bewildered, Hyukjae slowly studied him as he thought shortly. He didn’t know where the sudden interest came from, but if it kept them from excessively focusing on matters they were both reluctant to sort out, then he would let that be – for now.

“If I do,” he uttered quietly and hopefully, as if asking for a secret. “Will you tell me about yourself, too?”

Almost instantly, Donghae stiffened underneath the duvets while his eyes darkened in abrupt wariness, his hand flatly dropping back onto the mattress. The student flinched and glanced down at his curled fingers, feeling a wave of resignation wash through him, before he looked up and tiredly grinned at him. “You don’t have to,” he reassured. “But it’d be nice if you did someday.”

Before the blue-eyed boy could retort anything, he sighed a bit disappointedly then rolled onto his back, blankly staring at his ceiling and missing the apologetic look that was sent in his direction.

“I’m… a student,” he started seriously, before loudly laughing when Donghae accusingly pinched his sides. Giving him a broad grin, he squirmed away and chuckled breathlessly. “Just kidding,” he smiled, and his eyes twinkled playfully. “I’m not an interesting kind of person, though.” Unlike you, he almost added. “What do you want to know, anyway?”

“I don’t think you’re not interesting,” the other immediately protested with a firm tone and gave him a stern glare.

Hyukjae bravely glowered back, prompting him to advert his eyes with a sulky grumble. Donghae frowned a little, paused for a second and looked around him in deep thoughts, until his head perked up at something only he could know.

“The pictures,” he demanded soon after, fixing him determinedly. “I want you to tell me about your pictures on the wall.”

Blinking a bit bemusedly, the student glanced behind him. “My pictures?” he repeated curiously as he quickly skimmed over the familiar images. “Oh, that; that’s just a small hobby I’m trying to have sometimes.” He shrugged disinterestedly. “My mother loves it; she’s a professional photographer, after all.”

Surprisingly, Donghae shook his head in annoyance. “But that’s not you, is it?” he rhetorically chided back. “I don’t care about what she likes; do you like it?”

Hyukjae quickly pressed his lips into a tight line at the question. Shrugging somewhat awkwardly, he nibbled on his lower lip and unconsciously started to wring his fingers together, unaware of the look the blue-eyed boy sent in direction of his hands. “Not… particularly,” he finally replied, cringing a little at his own words. He restlessly tensed on the bed and incoherently mumbled under his breath, feeling inexplicably exposed. “It’s just that – Mom really does love it, ok? It’s nice to see her happy when I start talking about cameras and lenses, and stuff. I just want to have something in common with her, and it seems like it’s the only thing we can actually share together. She’s all about… creativity and instinct, and I’m about numbers and rationality – we’re… very different.”

Donghae pensively tilted his head to the side at that, allowing small locks of dark hair to fall across his forehead, before he lifted a hand and gently rested it on the side of his neck. His palm was warm and comforting against his chilly skin, prompting him to shiver at the temperature contrast.

Fascinated to realize how the simple touch swiftly calmed his heart down, the student breathed out pleasantly and gave the boy a curious look; it seemed like it was his own way of telling him that it was fine to talk to him, and that he was there to listen.

“Photography is important to her,” he stated thoughtfully, staring at him as if he could discern his very soul. “And she’s important to you; you’re a very good son.”

“What? No – I’m not!” Hyukjae widened his eyes in alert. “I mean… – of course, I hope that I am, but it’s not the only reason why I’m doing photography. It can be nice, too! When it… well, when it involves you, frankly.”

This time, a confused frown furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

Relieved that their conversation was switching to a different matter, he put his own hand atop the boy’s and softly brushed his knuckles, as if making sure that he was still there, before he sat up on the bed. A long shiver took him when cold wrapped itself around his upper body; he distractedly tightened the covers around his chest then pointed a finger to the only snapshot on the wall that truly stood out from the crowd.

“This one,” he uttered in embarrassment – perhaps the previous topic might have been easier to handle, after all, he thought grimly –. “The one with the dark wolf standing in the snow and staring back at the camera; do you see it?” A quick glance in his direction allowed him to note the faint mixture of recognition and curiosity which flashed in his blue eyes, meanwhile he straightened up in interest. “I doubt you knew,” he continued a bit unsteadily. “But it’s… it’s you. You probably don’t remember, come to think of it, but I took it in the woods about a month ago. There were also another wolf with you; a grey one, with a black ear.”

He watched Donghae tilt his head around to stare at him, eyes wide in sheer wonder. “That’s Sungmin,” he commented, before hesitating slightly. “I think,” he added afterwards.

Chuckling amusedly at the petulant expression that plastered itself on his features, Hyukjae teasingly poked the frown that was forming on his face as the other pushed himself up and leaned his back against the headboard. “Do you want to see them?” he asked with a modest smile. “The pictures?”

A small nod was all it took for the student to bravely disentangle himself from the blankets and head for the other side of the room.

*

A shudder took the boy again when his bare feet hit the cold parquet, prompting him to rub his arms in hopes of some additional warmth, before he hurried to the opposite wall and carefully unpinned the picture. Anticipation rapidly rising up his throat, Donghae impatiently watched him fiddle with the small tack that kept it in place on the plain wallpaper and mutely wished he could move faster. He curtly stared at him, briefly taking in his sharp features, while an eager urge to reach out and snatch the photo flared in him.

Before he had the time to growl out his clear discontentment however, he froze with a start when he suddenly caught the tender look Hyukjae gave to the photograph he had in hands.

His eyes were fondly roaming over the glossy paper, as soft and earnest as ever. The ghost of a smile lightly pulled at the corners of his plump lips, lightening his whole face with a rather lovely expression as he absentmindedly turned around. An irritated frown promptly furrowed the raven-haired boy’s brows as soon as he caught the blatant sight of affection that brightly shined within his auburn orbs, twinkling with nameless colors he wanted to claim as his own. Growing lowly, he felt an irrational pickle of a jealousy – one that he was fully aware to be absurd – wash through him from head to toe, and gave a hard glare at the clueless other, realizing with a disturbing startle that he had gotten used to seize those kind of gazes only when they were for himself.

Although there were, in fact, no legit reasons to be vexed at all – providing that the wolf in the image was truly him, that is –, a dangerous hiss threatened to flow out of his curled lips. Conflicted feelings stormed in his head, prompting him to severely narrow his eyes at Hyukjae, meanwhile the latter distractedly walked off to his desk and retrieved what looked like a thick envelop out of a drawer there.

The boy looked up, then, catching his eyes with the brightest kind of smiles – and Donghae forgot everything.

The fading fiery light of an ending sunset gently touched his smooth skin and gracefully contrasted with its paleness, freely playing with ranges of brilliance and shades. It languorously kissed the side of his handsome face and brought out what made him so unique, until it looked as if he was shining within the darkness of the room. The luscious sharpness of his prominent jaw and the attractive cords of muscles that shaped his entire body were finely highlighted with red