Do you believe in karma?

I don’t, but I try to be nice to everyone just in case. I even helped a girl pick up her books from the floor when she tripped in the hallway yesterday. If karma is coming for me today it probably has a lot to do with how I reacted to that damned facebook post, well not the post so much as the comments, although if I’m completely honest I’ll have to admit it bothers me to see the two of them going out to have fun together; I know they’re friends and all but it seems suspicious to go out at night to the karaoke and the arcade or even each other’s houses just the two of them. Call me paranoid but I think it’s weird.

Still, that wasn’t the issue, the issue is that apparently my new boyfriend… PAUSE. Take a moment to let that sink in for a second: BOYFRIEND, all mine. After all this time and the drama and the struggles, which sounds like an exaggeration but I’d like you to wear my shoes for a second and tell me how you’d feel having your crush screw the brains out of your roommate every saturday night and hearing it through the wall, watching them cuddle all lovey dovey the morning after. It ing hurts. And I’m glad it’s over even if it had to end that way, more hearts than necessary were broken for my dream to come true but I said I would be selfish and I am now.

And with selfishness comes possessiveness, which is a trait that I’m surprised I have because I never saw myself as the jealous type, I definitely wasn’t one with Jessica and it has nothing to do with trust issues, I know Hyuk won’t cheat on me, he knows what is feels like and would never inflict that pain upon somebody else, he just isn’t the type. The problem here is that everyone wants his . Ryeowook’s words, not mine. And I can’t blame them for desiring the desirable but, must they rub it on my face? Such s, each and everyone of them.

I snapped and you can’t say you wouldn’t have done the same. But in the way I also pretty much ruined whatever romantic date Hyuk had planned for us on valentine, or not so much the date, but he probably had a speech and all to ask me to be his boyfriend and I just blurted it out on freaking facebook like it meant nothing. What are we going to tell our children… I meant, people… what are we going to tell people when they ask how we got together? “Well all his es decided to gather one day and talk about and sizes so I just exploded in a jealous rant and proclaimed ownership of him”

Not exactly a tale for the grandchildren… I mean people, the people.

That sentence doesn’t have a single comma because it’s so freaking embarrassing I would just run through it in one breath #sorrynotsorry if you missed something ‘cause I’m NOT saying it again.

So basically because I ruined his surprise, now I’m getting bad karma and MY surprise is ruined. I mean, he already knew what I had planned but I was still gonna do it. Now I can’t even do that because my friend Sooyoung decided to break her ankle one day before Valentine’s. It’s a strictly couple’s dance, I cannot, by any means, perform it by myself and improvising is just not gonna cut it because all I can improvise is some popping and street dance, that looks really cool, but is not enough to be a Valentine’s gift for you boyfriend, God damnit.

The only other person who knows the entire choreo, and more importantly the girl’s part, is the choreographer himself, aka, Kai.

No, just no. Not gonna happen. Him and I are NOT dancing together. He is not getting anywhere near Hyuk. I refuse to let that happen…

So here I stand, in the middle of the dance floor of the fancy restaurant where Hyukjae had made a reservation, panting as I bow in appreciation of the thunderous clapping. Smiling brightly, although not sincerely next to my impromptu dance partner who beams proudly at the recognition.

I’m weak, ok? I know I said I wouldn’t do it but I worked so hard for it I just couldn’t waste the chance, so I willed my jealousy away and my body to somehow dance as gracefully as possible with another man. Kai is light despite his height so some of the moves weren’t as awkward as I had expected, he knows how to move his body, I’ll give him that. Then again thoughts about Kai’s expertise with body movement bring up unwanted flashes of a younger Hyukjae, writhing in the arms of an equally Kai. Not exactly the prettiest mental picture. And it springs on an entire collage of random scenes, a dozen different faces, bodies, voices I’ve never heard but I can hear them all as if I knew them, calling Hyukjae’s name, hands that aren’t mine caressing his body, lips molding against his, a different pair every time I blink…

And the memories seemed so vivid when all those men were recounting them, as if it had been only days when it has been years. And my mind keeps telling me that it is because the encounters were memorable and my heart doesn’t know if it should stop or speed because my boyfriend is a freaking God and I should be happy he’s all mine for the taking now, but I hate being constantly reminded where he got all that experience from.

I hate living with his ex boyfriend, I hate dancing with his booty call, I hate that he’s best friends with his one night stand.

I ing detest it!

We both approach the table where Hyukjae seats looking ecstatic, proud at my performance, moved at the gesture. He hoists me up and spins me around, kissing my lips chastely before setting me back down and I smile like I’m not breaking inside. Because he has done nothing wrong and I promised I wouldn’t hold his past mistakes over his head, but it is so hard having to watch him greet Kai.

And the er makes a grab for his because as the word implies, he’s a er. Then he jokes about it not having changed, that it is still as non existent as ever and they both laugh. Hyukjae scowls for show even if he can’t control his laughter and slaps him in the chest and the hand lingers for a moment. He comments on Kai’s piercing that I already knew about because he likes to take his shirt off to cool off after practise, and he can’t lift his shirt now to show it because the restaurant is fancy, so he grabs Hyukjae’s hand and makes him feel for it, instead. Then Hyuk asks if there’s anything else new in his body that he should be aware of, and the question itself hints at such an intimate past, a full knowledge of each others body that makes my blood burn because I don’t have that, we’re not there yet and it’s not about the at all, is about the level of confidence they’ve reached through intimacy, being so comfortable with each other, to a buttcheek, to rub a , even in public they act like they have every right over the other's body, their bubble where they own each other, belong together…

And it hurts to watch that.

It hurts when Kai leans in to whisper into his ear the answer to Hyuk’s question, and he steps back in shock with a face of disbelief turned amusement as he laughs at whatever it is Kai said, and he so shamelessly looks down at his crotch that I just can’t take it.

“Alright, enough!” - comes the booming voice of a pissed off… what was his name again? - “Yes, he has his pierced too, but you are NOT going to feel for that one!” - scolds Kai’s boyfriend as he glares at Hyukkie, trying to stand between them - “Don’t think I haven’t been looking at you two!” - and Kai pales because he had thought the small boy to be too far and too blind to notice the sensual nature of their interactions - “Kim Jongin! Are you cheating on me?!” - He’s tone is that of angry yelling, but the volume isn’t high enough to be bothersome to other customers, either way a waiter comes to tell them they should sit down, but instead the boy storms out in a diva fit with Kai right on two looking like he’ll die today.

What’s funny is that, that could have never been me. As much as it bothers me I could never make a scene like that, I wouldn’t dare show my jealousy so blatantly. Maybe it’s because we just got together this week, maybe it’s because we got together through facebook, maybe it’s because I’ve been wanting this for so long that it still feels surreal. Either way, I still don’t feel like I have the right. I don’t want him to think I’m this possessive; he might feel burdened or annoyed. I don’t want him to get tired of my jealousy so I bare it. I bare the pain of feeling like he has a dozen different marks on his body but mine, like he shares this same closeness with everyone but me, feeling left out of a joke that’s not even funny.

So I keep my cool the best I can and we finally sit down. He’s still laughing at what just transpired and I feel like I should too, but before I can fake it comes the waitress with the food we had ordered before starting the performance. After the atmosphere calms down we begin to eat and he seems to remember something, that he forgot to compliment the dance, verbally at least. So he goes on to express how impressed he was with the performance, using some terminology that I don’t understand, and I purposefully interrupt him to ask in order to keep him talking for a while longer because I don’t want to talk.

Usually we have no problem keeping a conversation going, whether trivial or personal. We talk about all sorts of topics and participate equally. But not right now, because if I try to talk now I don’t  know, with the mood I’m currently in, what kind of things I’ll end up saying.

“This is so good! You want a taste?” -  he asks, referring to his plate. I nod and take the offered food bite that he extends with his fork. I make a face of appreciation.

“It’s really good, right?” - he asks and I nod - “My recipe doesn’t taste like this, I wish I could ask the chef what spices he put in this”

“You cook?” - I ask out of legitimate curiosity.

“I do, perks of being gay” - he jokes.

“I don’t think your uality makes you a good cook automatically” - I comment amusedly, mood slowly getting better.

“Not necessarily, but when your parents throw you out of the house, you tend to learn how to do the basics on your own, like cooking” - he comments, tone still light as if it didn’t affect him anymore and it is painful to think that he has gone through that pain for so long it has stopped hurting. Just like that, my mood is down again.

I keep quite for the rest of the date until he finally calls me out on it after we leave the restaurant. It was supposed to be a romantic stroll in the park but the gloominess around me was ruining the mood.

“Whatever it is, you know you can tell me, right?” - he offers, pulling me out of my spaced out state.

“What do you mean?” - I ask, playing the clueless card to the best of my ability, tilted head and all.

“You’re upset, I can tell but I don’t know what’s wrong, I thought we were having a good time, what happened?” - he asks in concern and I tilt my head to the other side, like a confused puppy, still trying to act like I don’t know what he’s talking about but he sees through it - “Donghae, I mean it, today is a special day, I want the both of us to enjoy it but you’re clearly not in a good mood… was it something I said?” - he looks so distraught, trying to remember what could he have possibly done wrong and I want to say it’s nothing, all is fine, I’m just feeling down because I’m on my period, then he would laugh and we could move on. I really wanted to reassure him that everything is fine and change the topic, but my mouth just wouldn’t listen to my brain.

“Is not something you said, is what you didn’t say” - I stop walking to face him with a scowl - “When are you planing to explain to me… everything! You have everything to explain!” - I snap and he looks bewildered.

“Babe...” - he starts but I cut him off. Yesung calls him babe. He calls his girlfriend boo or Tiff, Babe is just for Hyuk. I don’t want him calling me babe.

“Don’t!” - I shout and he flinches in shock - “Just answer my questions, all of them with the truth, ok?”- I demand firmly and he nods, speechless - “How many lovers have you had?”

His eyes bulge at the bold question, and I know the answer will do more bad than good but something inside of me just needs to know. He collects himself and looks me in the eyes before speaking.

“After my second boyfriend cheated on me I was so depressed I entered what we all like to call my period. It lasted approximately 6 months during which I went out clubbing every saturday night, no exception, and I left every club in the arms of a different man, a lot of the time I went to Shindong's bar, that’s actually how we met. He’d take care of me and get me a cab when I was passed out drunk, but most of the time I can hold my liquor, because being passed out you can’t have and at that time, that was all I wanted” - he made a pause and sighed - “I’m not exactly proud of that part of my life and I’d rather not go into details of it, but if you want a number: 6 months, 4 weeks in a month, a different guy every saturday. Taking away those few nights I was sent home. About 20 is a good estimate, then add in the people I have actually dated plus Woonie that makes 25… happy?”

No Hyukkie, I’m not happy.

“Was Kai one of those people you dated? You guys seem awfully familiar” - I try to soften my tone, lighten my mood, erase the scowl. 25 is a big number but knowing that most of it were mindless, faceless, meaningless. And having him be so bluntly honest about it mends my heart just a little.

“We never dated but we slept together often during the weekdays, he became a regular for me outside of the weekly escapades and I was pretty much his . He doesn’t think I know, but he wasn’t sleeping with anybody else other than me, not because we agreed on being exclusive though, it was just ” - he finished with emphasis trying to make me understand there was nothing to be jealous about.

“But he acted so comfortable when you guys” - I didn’t want to tell him how much it had bothered me to see them like that back in the restaurant but my mouth just doesn’t listen, he interrupted me anyway.

“Of course we did, we slept together for months, I know every part of him and he knows every part of me” - I open my mouth to retort how that’s not the problem but he continues before I can - “I’m a former , Donghae. I’m pretty liberal about my body and uality, if a guy grabbed my I’m not going to punch his face in because to me a or a slap or whatever isn’t anything to fret over. It’s a bad thing that I got so used to it it stopped bothering me but that’s just how it is, physical things are just that, physical, and I don’t find it relevant. I kinda think of my body as public domain and I know how horrible that sounds to you as my boyfriend, but I want you to remember that you are my boyfriend, 25 people have gotten a taste of my body, it’s pointless to deny that, but only 2 before you have known what it is to love and loved by the man underneath”

“I want you to love me, Donghae, because I don’t want to give you my body, it has lost all of its worth; I want to give you me, all of me when you’re ready to take it and love it for what it is: a former who has had more ual partners than years alive. And I don’t want you to be another ual partner, I don’t want you to be envious and long for the things others have done with my body when you, as the man I… as the man I love could have so much more.”

Did he just…?

“Hyukjae?” - I breath out as my eyes dart between both of his, frantic and unsure.

“I didn’t want to rush into it, I still don’t. I don’t want to pressure you into anything, you can take all the time you want” - he holds me by the waist, standing so close, looking into my eyes so lovingly I melt - “I just want it out there in case you were to ever doubt you’re the only one for me right now. Not Kai, not Sungmin, not Yesung, and most definitely not all those other guys I don’t even remember the name of” - he ends with a smile before leaning in to capture my lips but I don’t let him, because my heart feels at ease, filled with happiness and love, but my head still has doubts.

“Not even Junsu?” - I ask and he freezes - “You said you’ve loved two people before me, one must be Sungmin… and Junsu?”

“I...” - he begins shakily, hesitantly - “Yes. We did love each other. Our time together was precious and a corner of my heart still has room for him, but it’s not enough for what you might be thinking” - he grabs my cheeks and makes me look him in the eye after my gaze had wandered to the floor at his admission - “I would never in a million years cheat on you. He can come back tomorrow, strip and give me a covered in chocolate syrup but I’m not laying a single finger on him” - his hands have left my face after cleaning the trace of tears I was unaware of having shed, he holds my waist once more in that possessive hug that I love so much - “He has a corner, Donghae, but you stole my heart” - and he captures my lips, this time I let him.

I let him because I love him too, even if today I couldn’t say it back. And it’s a kiss like every other, because as romantic as the setting is, there is a limited number of ways in which a pair of lips can meet. His plump lips mold around my thin ones like they have many times before, and he on my bottom lip, nibbling the top one and a tongue caresses the crease between them asking for entrance and I grant it like I always do. And the way his tongue pushes against mine isn’t magical, it does like it has before and I push back like always and they dance together like they’ve long ago learned how.

Because it’s just a kiss, nothing more, nothing poetic about it. And it took me this long to understand that he’s right. Physical things are just that, physical. Cheap, plain and irrelevant. It doesn’t feel like heaven because he’s a good kisser, it feels like heaven because it’s Hyukjae and we’re pouring all the love we have for each other in it.

Because those lips that have been used so many times hold no worth, it’s the love I have for the man underneath.