chapter two.
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He was a nervous wreck of human being about the next day and the unfortunate fact that he would have to face Hyukjae again, and be able to actually work with him too. Donghae had really tried to think and coach himself that he could pull it through, but he wasn’t too sure about it to actually happen. 

At the same time when somewhere deep inside his heart he was excited about the whole thing, the most of him was only dreading it more than anything – and those thoughts were already making him feel insane, because the voice inside his head—which sounded pretty much like his father—didn’t seem to leave him alone at all.

Donghae was a coward and he acknowledged it very well. He wanted to return back to his previous self, when thoughts like these wouldn’t harass him like this, and when he didn’t even need to be aware of all these horrifying new feelings when he knew they were wrong. It was really hard to get his thoughts straight again—quite literally—when he simply couldn’t stop thinking about the tattooed boy, and all those little details that made him so freaking interesting. He felt like he was constantly vacillating on the edge, where on the other side was the ordinary familiarity, when the new, inscrutable land was on the other side. And he didn’t know where to actually put his foot on, when all the things he knew about where the things that in fact kept him standing. If he would dare to step on the other side, he was sure he would be all by his own, and that was one the reasons he couldn’t actually take the step to the unknown even for exploring it a bit.

When the golden brunet had gotten home after hanging around with Kyuhyun and Sungmin, he was all alone with his mind again when he stepped inside the penthouse that belonged to his family. There were no lights on when his parents were working late as always, and their housekeeper had also left home already. The house was empty and hollow, and although Donghae had pretty much gotten used to it along the years, he would have preferred some company.

Exhaling and taking his bag he strolled towards the open kitchen, then grabbing himself a bottle of Cola before going up the stairs to the second floor where his own room was. He didn’t bother to put on the lights until he got into his own bedroom, flipping the light switch lazily and tossing his bag on top of his king-sized bed until he threw himself on it and rolled over onto his stomach.

His room was spacious to say at least, and in addition to his big bed he had these ordinary things for a student, but there was also a divan on the other end of his room in front of the wide TV, the shelf and all the electronics included. Three of his walls were painted in smoky, light gray color and one into really dark, almost black. His mother had insisted on redecorating it after he graduated from high school, and although he had been a bit skeptic about it at first, now he had to admit that he really liked it better compared to the previous that had indeed looked more like a teenager’s room. Now it was a bit more moderate and mature, since he was already nineteen anyway.

But what he didn’t like was to spend time in his big room alone, when he was left at the mercy of his own head.

He had been lost in his thoughts for the whole day, thinking about his upcoming approach with the red head, contemplating what he should really do with it. Yet he knew that there was no way out of this without communicating with Hyukjae, and communicating would mean that he’d get to know him better, and that would probably lead to the point where he would find himself falling even deeper. He already liked him to the point where he almost wanted to vomit because his presence was so intoxicating that it made his head and his insides feel like a ing mess.

The boy took his fluffy pillow and lifted it upon his occipital, ending up kicking the mattress and screaming into it violently in frustration. Huffing and turning back onto his back he stared the ceiling with a deep scowl, mind swirling in anger and desperation.

He had already acted quite maliciously to the red head, and although he felt bad about it, he couldn’t find any other way to act with the guy. It was easier said than done, but changing his crush into hate seemed to be the easiest way to get out of this. Because if he would act normally, Hyukjae might actually start to think that Donghae was a nice guy to spend time with, and hell, he didn’t want to be friends with him, and nothing else either.

Being anything with Hyukjae was too much of a risk to fall in love with him – and Donghae wasn’t someone to fall in love with a guy. That was just beyond the world he had learned to live in.

The brunet sat back up, grabbing the bottle from his left and opening it as roughly as he sometimes opened beer cans. He took a big mouthful of the acidic liquid, feeling how it burned his throat after swallowing, and it made him crave for a simple bottle of beer, soju, or any kind of alcoholic drink to be honest. He wanted to have the light-headed feeling again when he could so easily bury all the storming inside his head. It made him feel free, except the fact that he would end up making out with unfamiliar girls he would never be even interested in. But anything would be better than listening to the battle between the right and wrong within him.

Donghae didn’t really want to think about anything related to Hyukjae, so he brought his hand to his front pocket and pulled out his expensive phone his father had given him not a long while ago. He unlocked it, and browsed for a certain number and dialed it, even when he knew his father was still at work. For a good while he waited for the man to pick up, and when he already started to think about hanging up, he finally heard the sound for someone answering with a grunt of ‘hello’.

“Hi dad,” Donghae said simply, falling back onto his back.

“Haven’t I said that you shouldn’t call me when I’m working? Just your luck that I don’t have anything too important at the moment,” his father said with a slightly stern tone, which altogether was nothing unusual for his son.

“Sorry.”

“Well, what is it? Is everything okay?”

The golden brown haired boy bit his lip, and for a second he saw Hyukjae’s face behind his eyes and he shook his head abruptly to get off the image. “Uh, yes, I’m fine. I just called to ask, if we have any SLR at home? I mean, I’m having this photography course and well, it’s kind of a necessity...” he mumbled, swirling a strand of hair around his finger in thought, with a little frown on his forehead.

“Photography...?”

Donghae knew that his father didn’t really appreciate any kind of arts, and it had been a big thing for his son to insist on studying anything related to that in college, when he could have also done something more ‘meaningful’. So every time when he heard that specific kind of an annoyed tone of his father, he always felt really uncomfortable even though they had already accepted their son’s desire to study film production.

“I-it’s just an elective course of five weeks. But you know, I want to have a good grade either way,” he answered with an uncertainty while knowing that even if his father may have given him the permission, it still didn’t mean that he actually liked the fact. Donghae bit his tongue, impatiently waiting for a reply. 

At first there came low hum to tell that the man was acknowledging the information, but was now thinking about it and Donghae shouldn’t interrupt that. After a minute of silence, his father finally asked; “When would you need it?”

“Uh, my partner was hoping tomorrow...”

“Then who is your pair? What’s the project about?”

Donghae swallowed, drowning in his anxiety because he needed to talk about him. “H-he’s my classmate... You haven’t met him,” he grumbled, hoping that he wouldn’t need to tell more. “We are taking self-portraits.”

“We do have a SLR at home but it’s quite old, so I think it’s for the best if I buy you a new one. You’ll have it by tomorrow, but I’m working late so you need to wait till morning.”

With that, Donghae let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks dad.” But it was not for getting the camera, but more for his father to not starting an argument about his study preferences.

“Alright, Donghae, I have to continue working. And you should probably be studying.”

“Yeah. But uh...dad, are you working late for the whole week...?” the brunet asked, slightly embarrassed, because by all means he still missed his father despite his strictness. The man was always working late and going on business trips, and the same was with his mother, so it was more like a rule than an exception for him to be home alone for the most of the time. He sometimes hoped he could still be the eight year old himself, when his parents were still spending time with him. Now, it had been probably years since the last time they actually did anything together, as a family.

With a hint of loneliness in his eyes, he glanced towards his dresser where on top of it was a photograph of him and his father, from the time he was still in elementary school and they went to Japan for a holiday. In the thick, black frames he could see wide smiles, a younger looking father and a happy son with a big stuffed toy from Disneyland on his hands, when his mother had been behind the camera.

“I’m actually leaving for a business trip the day after tomorrow, early in the morning. I’ll be away for almost two weeks,” the man said, now with a gentler tone that Donghae almost missed from noticing.

Gritting his teeth, the boy tried to keep his emotions in shape. “O-oh, okay.”

There was a moment of silence, the bit of an awkward kind, when neither of them didn’t know how to say out loud those things mingling in their minds.

“I have to go now,” the older man, closer to his fifties, said, and Donghae hummed in response.

“Sure.”

“Get back to your homework. You sure have a lot of them. Well, good night, Donghae.”

“Good night, dad.”

With that the call was disconnected, and Donghae lowered his hand from his ear, letting the smart phone fall beside him on the mattress. And with a sigh, he decided to actually get to his homework; only to get his mind off the things he didn’t really want to think about.

Donghae was at the class, listening to their teacher talking about the history of film production, and to be honest, he was only partly listening. Most of the time he was dozing off, wholly sunken into his own thoughts from the possible lunch options to no else but Hyukjae, to tattoos, and movies like Pulp Fiction he had watched not a long while ago because another of his teachers had told his students to take a look at it. 

The monotonic voice of their male teacher wasn’t helping at all, and the brunet was lazily leaning against his desk, his attention deeply on his phone. There hadn’t been any new text messages after two hours when Sungmin had last texted to him.

But while playing Angry Birds and failing almost every time on that certain level, his phone suddenly buzzed. Donghae almost got a shock because of that since he hadn’t been expecting anyone to actually be as bored as him. He stopped the game, not really caring to save his scores—because as a matter of fact he at it—and went to check out his instant messages, finding an unfamiliar number. But the realization soon hit him; that the sender’s identity couldn’t be no one else but Hyukjae.

He decided to save the number, although he preferred not to when he couldn’t actually run away from him if he wanted to actually get any grade from the course.

At first, he found himself typing, but when he acknowledged what he was actually writing, he instantly deleted everything he had typed. He didn’t just write ‘Tattoo y’, no way. He could almost feel some smoke escaping from his ears when he tried to get a hold of himself before deciding to call him ‘Weirdo’ instead.

Weirdo: So, could we start working with our project today?

Weirdo: I’m free at 3pm.

He didn’t know what to answer. He didn’t want to answer.

He typed: Yeah, I guess. 

Donghae almost jumped when the reply came faster than he thought it would come.

Weirdo: You really don’t like me, do you?

Donghae: Nope.

Weirdo: What could I have possibly done to deserve to be disliked by you?

The air seemed to hitch on his throat, and he could vividly imagine the frown on the red head’s face from yesterday after treating him like that. And for god’s sake he didn’t really want to make the guy look like that when there wasn’t even a proper reason to act so, nevertheless how much he wanted to just hate him.

Donghae: Go figure.

Donghae: I’m free at the same time, anyhow.

Weirdo: I’ll see you at the gate okay? You shouldn’t eat so many lemons – they make your face look sour.

Donghae: Ha. Ha. Go yourself.

Weirdo: Maybe later. 

Weirdo: .

Donghae was pretty sure that the saying “When life gives you lemons—,” should have ended with “—make some lemonade...and add lots of vodka,” and it could have been the aphorism of his life at the moment.

He didn’t want to sound like an alcoholic – because he wasn’t one, at least not yet, hopefully – but nowadays he constantly desired for a glass of the escape-route in the composition of liquid. It was so easy—way too easy—to just grab a glass, and another, and third, and sixth, and eventually forget everything else he’d been thinking or dreaming about.

Like the guy with the tattoos. Maybe he should write a book with a title of ‘The guy with the canine tattoo’. Yeah, that would be too corny. He didn’t even know how to write nicely. His handwriting looked like footprints of a raven, or some other extinct animal, or a bird, with nine-toes or two left feet or something. And he wouldn't even start when it came to computers. There had to be some kind of black magic involved because any computer or laptop he even dared to touch would stop working no matter what.

He didn’t want to act like a kid who had just lost his mommy in the grocery store, but he really felt as miserable as that when the last class of the day unfortunately came to an end. Their teacher ordered them to read the next chapter of their book very carefully, leaving the class with the few others who were first to dismiss themselves. Donghae didn’t even want to stand up from his seat, but when the clock dangerously started to near six minutes past three, he didn’t see any other option. Even if he would retreat from the backdoor this time, he couldn’t stop coming from school after that. He would have to face Hyukjae, and the goddamn-ing-photographing project that was really making him want to go home crying and hibernate over the winter, hopefully over all of his college years.

He simply wasn’t ready to go to Hyukjae and ‘expose’ himself to him through the lens of a camera, literally.

There was just too much to lose.

While mentally already beaten up, he slowly started to gather his things when there were just few other students left. He took his bag and exited the class room, feeling how the lump inside his throat was only growing fonder and how the bitter taste of nervousness felt like it was crawling up on it.

It had never been like this with any other guy. Then why the whole thought was like a huge parasite for him now?

Never had the hallways felt so short than that day; never had the air felt so dense that he started to think if the pollution could actually kill him; and never had the gates of the school seemed so much like the gates of hell. Maybe it would be the devil himself welcoming him in?

Donghae had never ever felt so uncomfortable before.

Not even when he had been almost getting a from a girl who had been even quite hot and he hadn’t been able to get it up. Not even when he had managed to make her cry because he might have said something mean to her because of it. He couldn’t recall – and he didn’t really want to.

It wasn’t hard to discern the black figure leaning against the iron gates, red hair mostly hidden under his cap and the lenses of his glasses a bit steamed in the freezing weather as the warm breaths lingered upwards. When he was unfortunately getting closer, he could also see the slice of milky skin gleaming from the collar of his sweater under the jacket. His eyes immediately followed the black lines on it, trying to figure out what kind of piece of tattoo there actually was under the fabric. How could anyone look so good like that? It shouldn’t be possible.

Breathing heavy and uneven his body almost jerked when he stopped in front of the guy – who was eyeing him darkly with suspicion.

With only using some of his abdominal muscles, Hyukjae pushed his back straight off the brick wall beside the gates. “You’re late,” the male huffed, evidently a little bit annoyed and hoping for an explanation, yet knowing he would probably get none.

“I had things to do,” Donghae muttered incoherently, pinching the fabric of his greyish blue jeans around his pocket where he kept his phone, keys and stuff. He tried to ignore the almost unnoticeable trembling of his legs, but it was seriously pointless; it only made him feel like that he was starting to shake even more when he tried to steady himself.

Hyukjae turned his eyes away towards the buzzing street on their other side, leaving Donghae in the silence to wonder what the red head was thinking about. It felt awkward and irritating, but both of them were way too stubborn to let out the first words – like an initiative would equal losing. He didn’t know what exactly they were battling of, but he was sure one of the reasons was his actions the day before and even today.

In the end neither of them said anything, but Hyukjae was the first one to start walking along the street further away from their school. Whilst Donghae decided to follow him, his eyes wandered around the other’s posture, thinking how hard it actually was to understand the red haired guy. He seemed confident in a way, but somehow quite uncertain about something, yet he was impossibly calm-natured and almost indifferent towards the boy trailing after him.

They didn’t share a word before they arrived to a busier street filled up with different cafés and delis and little grocery stores. He didn’t have an idea what they were doing there until he couldn’t stand the dubiety around them anymore.

“Where are we going?” he said with furrowed eyebrows, brown eyes impatient and doubtful.

“You didn’t say anything so I thought it didn’t matter,” Hyukjae answered with a shrug. It made the brunet irritated even more, but not because of the other’s answer, but more of because he didn’t look at him.

“You didn’t even a—“

“Do you drink coffee?”

Hyukjae could as well have hit him with the board. Where was that even coming from? Well, yeah, he drank sometimes, but what did it have to do with anything? His eyebrows sunk even deeper, but his eyes had probably widened to saucers.

“Wait here.”

Okay. 

“But wh—“

He was left outside on the street when the guy so suddenly disappeared in to a coffee shop. He was trying to search him through the window, but he couldn’t see much because of the other street and store lights were disturbing the sight.

In all his confusion he couldn’t do much but to follow the people passing by with his eyes, and to busy his mind with everything happening around him. He saw a little girl on the other side of the street, pulling her mother after him towards something she seemed very enthusiastic about, and he saw a bunch of junior high –aged boys laughing and giggling about something they seemed to be watching from the smartphone of one of them. His gaze trailed here and there, eventually landing on a young male, probably still in high school, standing on the other side of the street beside a shop which windows were illuminated with a warm light. It didn’t take long for another boy to appear, and when he did, he wasn’t sure what to think of when he saw the rare kind of wide smile on the other’s face that reminded Donghae about his feelings towards Hyukjae again. 

When he saw them hugging, he swallowed and turned his stare away, now realizing how the snow had actually started to slowly fall down when the flakes on his cheeks started to melt against his skin. 

There were so many things he couldn’t understand about himself—about anything.

The golden brown strands of his were reaching his eyelashes, and the tickling sensation made him wipe the slightly damp strands off his face and pull the hood on his head by habit.

He heard the bell of the shop chinking nearby, but he only noticed his pair to be back when he smelled the scent of fresh coffee coming next to him.

“Dude,” Hyukjae muttered, “You want your coffee or not?”

The almond eyes were looking at him almost mockingly, or in slight annoyance, toned with something that was hidden behind some barrels. The gaze was a little stiff, but not overly so, but it confused him. Donghae wasn’t a genius when it came to reading emotions, but he would have guessed there had to be something else. But it was a bit too much already for him to understand.

He was acting like a brainless brick when the other was handing him the takeaway cup, and he still didn’t manage to pick it up.

Why was Hyukjae doing this?

“Do I need to be a Good Samaritan to offer you free coffee or what?”

After that, he finally grabbed the cup to himself, looking at it like it could have been an alien from the outer space. 

The red head scoffed, and with a grunt Donghae took a cautious sip of the drink.

“I didn’t even add anything nasty in it,” Hyukjae then said after the brunet had taken a few sips while they were walking, just strolling forward. The red head didn’t laugh out loud, but his eyes weren’t so tense anymore when Donghae shot a vicious glare at him. “But even though I just bought you a coffee, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still an , Donghae.”

Despite the small catty grin, he couldn’t find himself feel offended.

“I hope you choke on your coffee,” he grumbled back in feigned annoyance. His mind was definitely not available for purchase with a mere takeaway coffee, and he wondered how would have the red head reacted if he’d just thrown it away – like he ever could have said no to a cup of caffeine though.

After five minutes of mostly focusing on destroying their hot drinks, the one with the baseball jacket got again enough of their silence that only felt it was causing quiet bewilderment in both of them, and hoped that maybe it wouldn’t be such a disaster to work with Donghae. He didn’t want to get his hopes up too high, but there was the mutual understanding about the fact that neither of them didn’t want to fail their class. Be it the only reason to get something done, he didn’t care as long as they indeed got the project ready before the deadline.

He still didn’t know what opinion he had about Donghae. It was clear that there was some sort of negative electricity between them, but the question was that he didn’t know why though. Was it just because they were so different; especially because he was what he was with his tattoos, when Donghae was...well, a real high roller? It was fine for him, because they didn’t need to be friends. They just had to get along enough to be able to work together, and he had decided to go with indifference and tolerance. It was probably for the best anyway.

Hyukjae side-eyed the other male and sighed when he saw the bored expression on Donghae’s face. He abruptly stopped on his tracks before he got his mouth open.

“You know, the project isn’t going to get done by itself.”

Donghae halted on his tracks too, turning his attention to the one with the glasses on his nose.

“Do you have a camera?” Hyukjae inquired.

“Yeah.”

“Good. I have my own with me too. So, do shall we go to your place or mine?”

In Donghae's opinion, neither one of the opinions was a good one.