au: deaf!wook

Ryeowook couldn’t remember exactly how he stumbled on Yesung’s travel blog. It just seemed to have appeared one day and he found himself hopelessly enthralled with the adventures of one Korean man who was traveling the world.

According to his self-written bio, Yesung was currently twenty seven and had decided, after he finished his military service, that there was no time like the present to see what was out there in the world; he’d left his home in South Korea two years ago and hadn’t been back since. He started the blog as a way to keep his family up to date on where he was and what he was doing, but, to his amazement, he became mildly internet-famous almost overnight; everyone seemed to enjoy his stupid tales and silly pictures of the places he visited.

Ryeowook, who’d lived his entire life in Korea and had never even left the country on vacation, admired how seemingly-fearless Yesung was and quickly joined the thousands that checked the blog for updates every day.

He’d never expected to befriend Yesung. However, a shy message he’d sent once after weeks of deliberation had spiraled into friendly conversation and playful banter and, quite before he knew what was happening, they’d exchanged numbers. Yesung texted him almost constantly, sending him pictures and tales that he never posted or asking him his opinion on what color fedora or glasses to buy. After a few months, he even told Ryeowook his real name – Jongwoon – which he hadn’t used in years; once he learned that, Ryeowook never stopped calling him Jongwoon. Somewhere along the way, amidst the silly texts and shared secrets, he fell for him, hard.

Then, one day, four years after the elder had started traveling, he sent Ryeowook a text message with the three words he never thought he would: I’m coming home.

Ryeowook had been reading when he got the text message and swore that his heart stopped beating when he remembered that home was Korea. He promptly dropped his book on the coffee table in front of him and sat up straight on the couch, clutching his phone tightly in his hands as he typed out a reply with trembling fingers.

You’re coming to Korea? For once, he was glad that his friend couldn’t see his face and the desperate hope present there. The thought of Jongwoon being there, in Korea, in his home country, and possibly being able to see him was too much.

Yeah. I wanted to tell you before I announced it on the blog.

(Jongwoon had a funny way of never referring to the blog as his, as if it ran him and not the other way around. Ryeowook found it endearing.)

I was wondering if I could meet you. Maybe stay with you for a couple of days?

Ryeowook nearly dropped his phone, but didn’t hesitate with his response, the smile on his face stretching from ear to ear.

Sure!

---

Ryeowook fidgeted nervously in his seat in the waiting area, staring down at the carpet (which was an awful pattern in awful colors that he couldn’t understand why anyone had ever picked). Today was the day.

Jongwoon’s plane was running late, which only served to make him even more anxious than he already had been and the extra time gave his mind time to wander. There were so many things he wanted to know: how tall Jongwoon was (he had a guess from the pictures he’d seen, but he wanted to know for sure); if he wore cologne or what he smelled like, if he didn’t; whether his hands were soft or calloused; if his eyes really sparkled that brightly in person.

At the same time, he regretted agreeing to meet Jongwoon. He’d nearly forgotten about it, but he’d been keeping this secret for two years and how was he going to tell the older man now?

He glanced up, his head involuntarily swiveling toward the gate when he saw the sudden crowd of people that had appeared. His eyes almost immediately fell on a man off to the side and he felt his breath catch in his throat: that was Jongwoon. It had to be. Same messy dark hair, same dark eyes, same fashion sense. Taking a deep breath, he stood up, clutching the letter in his hands.

---

Jongwoon was just as nervous as Ryeowook, though he did a better job of hiding it. Ryeowook was, honestly, half of the reason he wanted to come back to Korea; he really did want to meet the younger man, the one he’d grown so attached to through exchanged letters and silly pictures. It didn’t take him long to spot the light brown hair and bright brown eyes of his friend and he felt a cheerful smile spread across his face as he hurried forward, clutching his carry-on bag tightly in his hand.

“Ryeowook! Ryeowook, I can’t believe—” Jongwoon stopped talking as Ryeowook bowed his head, pushing a letter into the older man’s hands. Blinking in surprise, Jongwoon took the letter carefully, slipping a piece of stationary with small, neat handwriting out of the envelope.

Jongwoon,

We’ve known each other for two years. I’m so, so sorry; I’ve kept something from you. I know I should have told you sooner, but I was worried that you would treat me differently or that you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me at all and I really didn’t want that.

I’m deaf.

A bad ear infection when I was younger destroyed my hearing and it doesn’t bother me, but so many other people treat me differently because of it and I didn’t want you to.

I understand if you don’t want to stay with me. You don’t have to.

Again, I’m sorry.

-Ryeowook

Ryeowook was staring down at his hands and jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder; he looked up, only to be met with a smile.

‘I always thought there was a special reason why you never wanted me to call!’ Jongwoon signed in very fast, very fluent sign language.

Ryeowook’s eyes widened considerably and he stared at the older man for nearly a full minute before a smile broke out across his face and he started signing back, feeling lighter than he had in years.

---

It turned out that Henry, who Jongwoon had traveled with for a year and a half, had a deaf brother, and that’s how Jongwoon had learned sign language. After two days of living together, though, they discovered that it wouldn’t have mattered much if Jongwoon wasn’t fluent in sign language; they communicated more through exchanged glances and expressions and motions than through the fluttering of fingertips anyway. Before they knew it, two days had turned into a week and a week had turned into two and Jongwoon just couldn’t bring himself to leave.

---

It had been almost two months since Jongwoon first came back to Korea. They’d fallen into a nice routine and Ryeowook liked how comfortable he felt around his hyung. He came home from work that day smiling brightly; he shrugged off his coat in the foyer and slipped out of his shoes, immediately starting to look around for Jongwoon. The older man wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room like he normally was and Ryeowook suddenly felt his heart drop as he slipped upstairs toward the guest bedroom.

The door was closed and he reached out, his fingers lingering on the handle for a moment before he sighed, instead sliding down and leaning back against the wall.

Ryeowook knew that Jongwoon was packing. He could feel the tremors in the floor as he sat there. He wasn’t really sure why he thought this would last forever, just the two of them in his big open house, but he did, and the sudden realization that Jongwoon might be leaving sent him reeling. He didn’t want that to happen.

Unconsciously, a tear glided down his cheek.

I want you to stay beside me.

---

Jongwoon stopped packing his bags for a moment; he could feel Ryeowook outside of his room and he held his breath. He didn’t know what to tell his friend. He wanted nothing more than to stay, but felt like he had forced his presence into the house longer than he should have. He wanted to desperately to stay with Ryeowook. He’d never quite found another person like him and all he knew was that he never wanted to be apart from the younger.

He flopped down on the floor, leaning against the wall and letting out a heavy side.

“I want to stay beside you.”

---

Jongwoon heard the door to his room open and close and suddenly a pair of socked feet appeared before him. He smiled slightly as Ryeowook sat down in front of him, folding his hands in his lap.

They sat there for the longest time, alternating between staring at each other and the floor between them before finally Jongwoon ran a hand through his hair.

‘I shouldn’t impose—’

‘Please stay.’ Ryeowook’s eyes filled with tears, which he stubbornly blinked away. ‘I…I like you a lot, hyung, and—’

But Jongwoon didn’t need to know anything else; he reached over, pulling Ryeowook to his chest, pressing his lips against soft, light brown hair.

---

It had been three years since Jongwoon came home to Korea.

Ryeowook stumbled into the living room, clutching a bowl full of popcorn and yawning as he curled up next to his boyfriend on the sofa. Jongwoon had just put a DVD in and was navigating the main menu to turn on the subtitles but his arm immediately found its way around Ryeowook’s shoulders, tugging him closer to his side. Ryeowook smiled, leaning into his hyung and munching on a piece of popcorn happily. It had been three years, but the feel of Jongwoon’s arm around him still sent a shiver down his spine and he marveled at the way the older man always knew exactly what he was feeling.

Barely thirty minutes into the movie, Ryeowook was asleep, just like Jongwoon knew he would be, and the older man scooped the younger up into his arms, turning off the TV. He trudged up the stairs to their shared bedroom and carefully put him on the bed, quickly shedding his t-shirt before falling onto the mattress himself. He wrapped his arms around Ryeowook, yawning slightly as he let his eyes slip shut.

“I’m glad you let me stay, little bear,” he whispered and, even though he knew Ryeowook couldn’t hear him, he thought he saw a hint of a smile spring to the younger’s lips.

It may have taken four years of traveling, but Jongwoon was glad that he’d finally found exactly where he needed to be.