26 October 2013

Ryeowook swallowed thickly as he stared up at the haunted house. He wondered again why he had let his friends convince him to go to this place. Beside him, he heard Donghae trying to argue his way out of going inside, but he was failing miserably in the face of Kibum and Eunhyuk’s teasing.

There were plenty of them in the group so it couldn’t be that scary…right? He jumped at the sound of hissing fog from the automated machines on either side of the creaky iron gates. If anything, he just had to imagine that it was his school—scratch that. He didn’t need any more nightmares concerning St. Angela’s infamous ghost stories. There was probably a different story for every single floor of every building that included something about suicide, homicide, or spirits in general.

Hyungsik’s fingers grazed the back of Ryeowook’s neck and he screamed. Laughter and strong, warm arms immediately surrounded him. “Calm down, I’m sorry,” he mumbled near his ear, still chuckling. Squeezing the terrified male, he went on, “if you really don’t wanna go in…I’m sorry, but I don’t think anyone is going to let you back out.”

“You’re not helping at all.” He tried to keep his voice steady, but the quiver was unavoidable.

“Here, let’s get your mind off of it,” Hyungsik offered, moving so he was in front of the smaller man. “Did you hear back from the school yet about your submission?”

Ryeowook’s face immediately lit up at the mention of his song. It had been completed earlier on in October and he had been impatiently awaiting an approval or denial from the music department’s chairman. He was only worried out of obligation. Something about his song just screamed “you’re in”. There was no solid proof of that assertion, but Ryeowook just couldn’t fathom his piece failing to appear in St. Angela’s Annual Winter Concert.

“I got a letter in the mail just yesterday! I was so excited, but I forgot to tell you since you were up late studying,” he explained, nearly giddy, “They accepted it!”

Hyungsik swung Ryeowook around, hugging him tightly as they cheered over the victory. People behind them made faces, but no one dared to interrupt the excited pair. Kibum glanced at them, a smile making its way onto his face. Nudging Eunhyuk and Donghae, he nodded his head toward the celebrating duo.

“Just found out?” Eunhyuk guessed.

“Can’t be anything else,” Kibum agreed, laughing.

Donghae’s attention was jerked back at the sound of an ear-splitting shriek. He stumbled back, ramming into someone behind him. Fumbling around, he muttered out a hasty apology, eyes landing on a familiar face. Blinking, he broke into a grin and offered his hand to the disheveled person. “Henry! You made it!” he grasped the younger one’s wrist, pulling him up.

“Almost died just now though,” he grunted, dusting himself off.

“You’re fine,” Jiyoung murmured, ruffling the male’s hair.

Donghae quickly bowed his head to the celebrity in disguise, earning a nod in return. Scooting away, he grabbed Eunhyuk’s arm, muttering, “That’s seriously him?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he nodded.

“It is,” Kibum assured, before going over to tease Henry.

Ryeowook glanced over at them, but failed to get a word out before their tour guide for the haunted house appeared. He seemed normal enough, except for the excess of black make-up smeared around his wide eyes. There was gauntness to his angular features, lips ashen and cheeks sunken in. Ryeowook’s stomach dropped and he backed up, right into Hyungsik’s waiting arm.

“Sorry,” he shrugged, gripping Ryeowook’s waist tightly, “if you’re scared, you can always lean on me.” He was smiling teasingly, but there was sincerity in the offer.

Gratefully, the shorter male nodded and took reluctant steps toward the guide. Beside him, he noticed Kibum chatting amiably with a very youthful looking young man. Beside them was a taller figure, his eyes and mouth covered as well as his head. A black jacket covered his lean frame. Ryeowook suddenly clapped his hands. “You’re Henry!”

“I am,” Henry replied easily, “and you’re Ryeowook, right? We kept missing each other,” he laughed.

“That’s true,” he chuckled, “it’s good to finally meet you.” Just as those words were spoken, the tour group began moving and the creaking of the haunted house doors tore him away. Freezing up, Ryeowook tried to turn around but then felt the arm around him tighten.

Hyungsik bumped his head against the shorter male’s and smiled, “Calm down. I’m right here, so don’t worry. Just close your eyes if you need to. I’ll lead you.”

Slowly, Ryeowook nodded and stepped up onto the rotting porch of the building. Swallowing thickly, he shut his eyes just as the blaring screams and shrill shrieks closed in around him. His breathing was heavy and broken, body shaking as he clung to Hyungsik with all he could. There was safety there – warmth and ease and the soft rumbling of the tall boy chuckling at the different haunted assortments. Clearly he didn’t have any issues with this.

Only later would Ryeowook truly appreciate that fact.

***

Youngwoon waited outside of the apartment building, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. There was a small knock at the window and he jerked his head up, seeing Leeteuk waving at him and pointing to the lock. Sheepishly, Youngwoon made a sign of apology and unlocked it.

A moment later, his best friend was sitting in the passenger seat, giving him a concerned look. “It’s just dinner…don’t worry so much,” he assured, patting Youngwoon’s hand.

“I don’t think you get it,” he sighed, shifting car gears and pulling away from the curb, “It’s dinner with the family. My fiancée said she’ll try to make it, but there was a layover for her flight. I’m betting she won’t be able to get back in time.” Youngwoon chewed on his bottom lip. “What if things go badly? I know they’re going to ask about Ryeowook. They always do with those sneers and it makes me wish sometimes that I wasn’t their son.”

Leeteuk exhaled softly, leaning back in his seat. Eyes trailing over to the slightly younger man, he said, “You’re the only one Ryeo-ah needs. He’s going to be just fine without your parents. He’s strong and he’s smart. That fact that he stood up for himself is more amazing than anything else I’ve ever heard about.”

“But he’s still so young. I just can’t shake the feeling that he’s going to regret walking away from the family. They disowned him, but…but somehow isn’t it wrong for him to be parentless already?” Youngwoon was driving slower than the speed limit, his thoughts swirling on his face. Why had Ryeowook chosen that moment to assert himself? Although he was always a straightforward kid, this was taking it too far. He didn’t have to do this when he was still young. He could’ve told them off when he was older and established and not trying to survive on scholarships and music.

He was a brilliant kid – a fantastic composer based on what he was told recently – but still a child. Ryeowook was barely nineteen.

They drove silently for a while, hopping onto the highway before another word was spoken. Bright lights flashed by them, slicing through the windows like lasers, sharper than sunlight but duller than twilight. Leeteuk played his phone case, absently running his fingers over the silicon. “Your parents aren’t the ones who gave birth to you. They’re the ones that you trust with your life, blood or bloodless. To Ryeowook, I’m sure that you’ve always been more of a parent than his real parents. I’m not just saying that either,” he looked up at Youngwoon who was silent, “the one who protects him and treats him like a real person is you. Parents who aren’t there through thick and thin aren’t parents anymore. They’ve forsaken that name. They don’t deserve that name.”

***

Kyuhyun laid on his bed, Sungmin cuddled against his side. A movie played on the television quietly. Just down the hall, he could hear his mother blow-drying her hair and he rolled his eyes, mimicking her loudness. Sungmin glanced at him and laughed, slapping his chest lightly.

“Umma! You’re hair is big enough already!” he called teasingly, hearing the blow-dryer turn off. He snickered as Mrs. Cho came stomping in with half her hair done. The smile on his face only grew wider. “See? It looks fine that way.”

“You!” she waved her hand in annoyance, but the twinkle of affection stayed in her eyes. Reaching over, she smacked his head before gently patting Sungmin’s cheek. “Teach him how to behave! That boy has no manners!”

“Yes, I will!” Sungmin grinned brightly.

Kyuhyun frowned, making a noise when his mother left with a satisfied smirk on her face. However, the expression quickly melded into one of humor and then he was snuggling back into his boyfriend. The evening was peaceful, left to quiet cuddling and a late autumn breeze. He wouldn’t have had it any other way. Kyuhyun prized those moments when they didn’t fight – when things seemed like they could be good forever and ever. These were the times that made him hesitate when it came to breaking up with Sungmin.

How could he give up this comfort? Was it really a safe bet? Would he survive without Sungmin around? That was definitely a difficult question. Sometimes, on a good day, he felt like he could conquer the world alone. Other days, it was near impossible to even move him out of bed with the help of half the football team.

Mrs. Cho peeked back into the room after what felt like barely a few seconds. She smiled tenderly at them. “Good night boys. Don’t stay up too late.”

“Good night! Love you,” Kyuhyun responded, giving his mother the very best smile he could muster.

She just chuckled at it though. “Silly boy. Love you too.” Softly, she closed the door and then her footsteps faded down the hallway.

“I still can’t believe that your parents are okay with this,” Sungmin muttered, “it still amazes me when I see it.”

“I’ve always been a little different. They probably didn’t think anything of it since I was so determined to be with you.” Kyuhyun shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with liking both men and women. Then again, I’m guessing the fact that my parents continue to support and love me is amazing.”

Sungmin looked up at his lover. “You really don’t know how lucky you are.”

No, he didn’t know how lucky he was and he wouldn’t know for a while to come.

***

“You totally did it on purpose,” Eunhyuk deadpanned, crossing his arms in irritation. They stood in a circle outside of the additional haunted tour. Prior to going on the first one, they had bought tickets for all of the attractions around the mini Halloween festival going on.

Donghae shook his head disapprovingly, as did Donghae and Henry. Jiyoung was less interested, seemingly absorbed in something on his phone. Ryeowook had a feeling it was work related. Someone like him always had an appointment to schedule or a concert to plan – perhaps a comeback to be prepped. There were many things that came to mind.

Sighing apologetically, Ryeowook looked at his friends. “I’m completely serious. I don’t know where they went! I spent money on them. Why would I lie?”

They heard the bell sounding that the tour had ended on the second attraction and that it was inevitably their turn. Reluctantly, they stepped away from the guilty boy. Eunhyuk slapped Ryeowook’s back roughly. “There. That’s your punishment. I guess you can just wait out here for us to finish.”

“I can just walk with him back to the school,” Hyungsik offered, “I don’t mind. After all, the attractions weren’t that scary.” He flashed a smile, patting Ryeowook’s lower back.

“Ah, that’s true,” the latter agreed, “okay, we can go back first. Is that okay with all of you?”

Eunhyuk exchanged a look with Kibum. Both of them immediately nodded and smiled, making faces at Ryeowook who in turn, ignored them as best he could. They didn’t have to be so obvious, did they? He fumed silently, wishing that they actually did believe him. They were probably concocting ideas about how he had planned this so he could spend time with Hyungsik.

If that was all he was after, wasn’t this too much? He would’ve just said so straightforwardly that he wanted to spend time with him. Sighing under his breath, Ryeowook allowed himself to focus his attention on the male walking beside him. Hyungsik was looking down at him, a soft smile on his lips. “So, I didn’t know you were that scared of haunted houses.”

“I think it’s because I imagine that it’s worse than it actually is,” he reasoned wryly.

“It’s the pain of an artist,” Hyungsik chuckled, “being able to imagine that vividly, I mean.”

Ryeowook nodded tiredly, thinking about how true that statement really was. “You’re equally into the arts, so why weren’t you scared?” he frowned.

“Because I’m not a wimp,” he shrugged, grinning.

“Hey!”

Hyungsik wrapped his arms around Ryeowook, laughing and squeezing his shoulders. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” He tilted his head down, meeting his friend’s eyes. “So tell me about you. I want to know more.”

“We talk all the time,” he smiled, “What do you want to know?”

“Not that stuff,” he rolled his eyes, “I want to know the real stuff. Your family and the things you don’t tell anyone else.” Hyungsik’s voice was soft and sweet, breath coming out in white puffs of air in the chilly night, “Those are important to me.”

“Why?” Ryeowook returned without heat, “To you, they’re important or…?”

“You, specifically,” Hyungsik spoke slowly, “are important to me. The person that you are is obvious, but the person that no one else is allowed to see…I want to meet him.”

Slowly, they came to a stop. The school’s main gates were just down the street, but they stayed atop the small hill, settling down on a bench. Most of the sidewalks were barren and all the shops were closed in the area. Traffic lights flashed red, yellow and green silently for no one.

Ryeowook shivered slightly before feeling a scarf around his neck. Looking up, he saw Hyungsik knotting the warm accessory around him. “You’ll be cold this way,” he frowned, trying to take it off.

“This is fine, just start talking,” he brushed off, running his fingertips through the shorter one’s hair gently.

He was quiet for a long minute, seemingly scrambling for words. The night held a full moon, the silence holding them in place as if the world had stopped for this moment. That’s what it felt like. To Ryeowook, this was it. This right here was what it felt like to want someone to know about you. He couldn’t really understand what was going on in his head. All he knew, with perfect clarity, was that he wouldn’t regret telling this person because this person would understand.

“If I tell you, you have to tell me about your family too,” Ryeowook stated, giving him a look.

“There isn’t much,” he shrugged, “my family is very boring, actually.” Hyungsik’s voice was growing softer though, as if he was ashamed that he didn’t have some dramatic story to share. “I’m thankful,” he quickly added, “but it’s not the same. I mean, having a strong family has always been invaluable. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

“And what makes you think I have a broken family?” he mused.

Flushing even in the darkness, Hyungsik looked down. “I heard a little bit here and there that you don’t talk about your family…and that you’re paying for school on your own with the scholarship. Also, they didn’t come for Homecoming Weekend, right?” He fiddled his hands. “I just figured it couldn’t be a great situation.”

Ryeowook breathed out quietly. “No, it’s not great,” he laughed a little, wondering if he was that obvious. “It’s not that my family is bad. My older brother is amazing. He’s my favorite person,” Ryeowook explained earnestly, looking down as he spoke, “but I’m just someone who can’t accept…less than I am? Does that make sense?”

He paused, glancing over to see Hyungsik quietly nodding. “My parents think music is waste of time and money. They refused to support me when I said that I wanted to go study music and theatre. That’s why I’m surviving on a scholarship. But that’s just a minor problem.”

***

“So how’s the little gay boy doing?” he laughed with his wife. Their relatives joined in as well, some with disgusted head shakes. “God, I still can’t believe I used to call that my son,” the father went on, nearly spitting on his drink from chortling.

Youngwoon stood quietly, facing his father but refusing to meet his eyes. Leeteuk stood nearby, playing with the edge of his suit jacket.

His mother touched his sleeve. “You know it’s okay to laugh,” she assured, “he’s not here.”

“Yeah, I know,” he stated stiffly, “I’m just tired. He’s doing really well though,” Youngwoon spoke firmly, carefully. “He was accepted into the school’s famous winter concert.”

The father grunted, swirling his glass of red wine. “Well, gays love gays.” He broke out laughing again, sipping his drink as everyone else spurred him on.

Youngwoon felt his phone vibrating and checked the caller ID. Slowly, he ended the call, but held the phone up to his ear anyway. “Ah? Really? …I understand. Okay, bye.”

“Hmm, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” his mother asked, gently rubbing his arm.

“I have to get back to the office apparently.”

“This late?” his father demanded.

“They really need me it seems,” Youngwoon shrugged, “I can’t do anything about it.”

His father nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’s true. Be a good man and support that lovely fiancée of yours.” He reached out, patting his son’s shoulder proudly. “You’re a true man, unlike that dirty . You would never betray us like him, would you?” There was a tense moment, his father’s eyes flickering with something akin to desperation. As if losing his other son would destroy him.

And even though Youngwoon knew what that look meant, he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Ah,” he muttered, “I’m gonna get going then. Good night.” He kissed his mother’s cheek and turned away.

Leeteuk bowed to the family. “Good evening. Thank you for inviting me.”

“You’re always welcome, Jungsu,” the mother scolded gently, “don’t be so formal and next time bring us a pretty girl too!”

He smiled sheepishly. “I will!” Turning away as well, he hurried after Youngwoon.

The moment they were out of the house and inside the car, Leeteuk felt a hand fist his collar, jerking him to the side. In a second, his lips were crushed against Youngwoon’s. Returning it gently, he pressed his hand against the other’s chest, trying to breathe despite it all. There was pain and want and much more that he could never fully understand.

When they broke apart, Youngwoon brushed one last chaste kiss to his lips. They hovered close together, their eyes locking. “Thanks for faking that call,” he mumbled.

“I didn’t want to listen to their bull anymore either,” he smiled slightly, still trying to catch his breath.

His jaw tightened. “How can they talk about him like that?” he whispered, voice cracking in the back of his throat. “I…I don’t think I could ever handle it if they called me that too.”

“That’s why it’s fine this way,” Leeteuk spoke quietly, pinching Youngwoon’s cheek playfully. There was sorrow in his eyes though, deeper than any wound and darker than the coldest black. “I know how you feel…I know, so it’s okay.”

“I swear I do love you,” he loosened his grip reluctantly, forehead pressed against the older male’s. Their fingers found each other, intertwining in the shadows of the car. “More than anyone else, I love you in a way I can never explain.”

Leeteuk just smiled, never once letting go of the hand in his.