(a/n: in korea they drive on the right lane)

Day 7

Despite his exhaustion, the first thing Donghae did after making sure the bail process had gone smoothly was to pick Hyukjae up from the discharge center.

Kyuhyun greeted him gently as he walked in, having a soft spot for the man whom he knew had recently lost a brother recently.

"Hey, Donghae. Is everything alright? What are you doing here so early?" He smiled warmly, noticing the dark under-eyes of the brunet.

"I'm fine, officer Cho. Actually, would you know where I should go to see someone out of bail? The papers were completed last night, so he should be able to come out by now." Although his sleep-deprived eyes were stained a faint red, they were wide with an anticipation the older could not understand.

He knew exactly whom Donghae was here for. Just a few minutes ago, he had personally taken the ex-prisoner out of his cell—just so he could maybe catch him doing a slip-up, but of course, he got nothing—and announced his fate, however much he himself disliked it. Hyukjae was currently picking up his belongings, and no matter how much Kyuhyun guessed, he couldn't make up an explanation for how the brother of the person he had supposedly murdered was the one who bailed him out.

"I'm sorry for being so nosy, but why did you do this?" He didn't want to grow suspicious of the man in front if he had any other options, which he didn’t.

Donghae’s expression was as genuine and convincing as it could be on someone who had missed a night’s sleep. "Oh, it was actually a misunderstanding! It's hard to explain properly right now, but Hyukjae didn't kill my brother. I’m sure about it." He smiled confidently, hoping it would be enough to assure the friendly officer for now. He didn’t mean to be impolite but… there were things he had to do.

"Alright... but you must tell me sometime." Kyuhyun gave way at last. "Be careful, Donghae. People have many different sides, you never know which side they decide to show you."

"I will; thanks, Kyuhyun. So do you know where I can find him?" Normally his patience was greater than this, but Donghae wasn't exactly in his best state right now.

"Down the corridor, the last room on the left. You'll see a sign on the door." Kyuhyun sighed. If that bastard did have any ill intentions towards Donghae, it would be another thing to add onto the list of unforgivable things he had committed. But he reminded himself that Donghae wasn't a child, it wouldn't be so easy to trick him, and he was not completely defenseless. Even if he did not like it, he would just have to trust the artist currently taking quick strides down the corridor to take care of himself.

He couldn't wait to see the look on the other's face. Anticipation had accumulated considerably after receiving help from the intimidating blonde who had told him to address him as ‘Leeteuk’ (obviously a fake name), and hours of hard work. Sure, the older might have guessed that it was Donghae who bailed him out, but he wouldn't have been confident since the artist didn't need to do anything for him.

Though in the younger's mind, he was the one who got Hyukjae into this mess, so it was his obligation to get him out of it.

Donghae pushed the door open to broad shoulders on the back of a man who was rummaging through items on a table and puting things back into his pockets.

"Hyuk-"

"You're finally here. I thought you were better than this, Jeongsu. Taking a whole afternoon and night to get me out of here? Do you know the conditions of this place? This is unacceptable. You know, even if I don't personally take care of things, I'm still your boss and you have to respect me."

He began to turn around, buttoning up his cuffs in the last step for getting ready.

"Maybe it's because I treat you like a friend too often, and I call you by your real name. But you should remember that you're still working under me." Hyukjae finished the last button and lifted his head. "You're still the Lee-"

"...Donghae?" His mouth dropped open, frozen in front of the man before him who had his eyebrows raised in confusion.

"Hyukjae?" Donghae blinked. Why did he mistake him for someone else? And who was Jeongsu?

"Donghae, why are you here?" Hyukjae brought himself back and tried to make sense of the rapid thoughts firing in his mind. It wasn't so much the fact that his assumptions were wrong, but who in particular made them wrong. Of all the possibilities, why was it Donghae? The person whose relationship with him was too complicated to explain. Who had a unique meaning, one that no-one should know about.

Hyukjae's eyes narrowed unnoticeably.

"It was me who bailed you out." It came out before he realized how condescending he sounded, as if he were asking for something in return. The brunette hurried to explain. "Wait, I didn't mean... I meant that I paid the bail..." Hearing himself making it worse, Donghae decided to just shut up and stare at Hyukjae, as if that would somehow make the older man understand his intentions.

Hyukjae chuckled at the unease that pressed his thin lips into a zipped line. "It's alright, I understand. So it was you who bailed me out? How did you do it so quickly?" His lips curved up in an impressed manner.

Donghae hesitated. Didn't he just hear him complaining to that Jeongsu about how he took so 'long'? Why was it 'quick' when it came to himself? But the look on his face was genuine—the artist knew from years of experience in studying other people's facial expressions—and so Donghae chose to ignore his self-contradiction.

"I didn't do it myself. I got help from.. an acquaintance." He chose the last word after short hesitation. Hyukjae didn't need to know what had happened between him and the enigmatic blonde.

Though of course, the older man was not one to let mysteries stay mysteries.

"What help? Did you borrow the money?" He frowned. "It's not a small amount, I don't want you to be in debt because of me."

Donghae waved a hand to dismiss the idea. "No, I'm not in debt." Again, his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth as he paused in reluctance.

"Then what?" Hyukjae was not giving up.

After being worried between his teeth for a while, the brunet’s bottom lip was finally released. He was never good at lying. When he was young, Donghwa would always know when he wasn't telling the truth, and had taken advantage of him at all those opportunities. For that reason Donghae had become avoidant of things he shouldn't know, because if he didn't have secrets, there would be no need to lie.

Donghae wanted to trust Hyukjae. This man had made him feel safe. He thought about all the things the other had done for him while he hadn’t known anything about the artist. They already proved how nonjudgmental he was.

Right?

"My friend told me a way to get lots of money quickly. It’s…. it’s illegal. Which is why I didn’t want to tell you in the first place.” Donghae’s eyes had lowered to the other’s shoes by the end of the confession. He didn’t know why, but admitting to this somehow felt a lot worse than when he had admitted to producing illegal paintings.

Hyukjae had been accepting back then. Would he still be accepting now?

Donghae raised an unconfident gaze.

And immediately wished he hadn’t.

He had been expecting it, but the reality still sent jabs to his heart, breaking the walls that were already fragile with anxiety. He desperately wished there was a place for him to hide—anywhere would do—because he could not stand even one more second of being under the criticizing eyes of the person he had trusted only moments ago.

Hyukjae’s face was filled with blatant disappointment and disgust.

A pair of lips opened and closed. Then repeated the motion. Donghae wanted to say something to break the silence, change the suffocating atmosphere, yet guilt and shame rendered him momentarily mute. He wanted to ask why Hyukjae was being like this, why he was hurting him so carelessly when all that Donghae did was for him, but it was as if his voice was no longer under his own control.

“How many people?” The slightly taller man suddenly asked. Donghae was caught in surprise and took too long to answer, so the man repeated his question impatiently.

“I said, how many people were there?” Something veiled over his normally clear pupils. The younger tried not to look at the edge of his jaw that was clenched into an irregular shape.

“What?” The confusion on his face was as clear as the sky after a rainstorm. Caught up in his emotions, Hyukjae ignored the transparent truth in front of him.

“Stop playing with me. If you’ve done it, at least have the guts to say it. How many people did you go to bed with to get all that money? Did you think that I ‘wouldn’t mind’ you doing something like that, just because you did it for me?”

Donghae tensed, and then relaxed. He finally released the breath he had been holding. “I didn't do… that! I really didn't! I just… I sold some drugs, that’s all.” He began to breathe again. Hyukjae hadn’t meant to say those words, or look at him that way. It was just a misunderstanding. It’s alright now. It’s ok....

“Do you think that makes it any better?” An emotionless voice interrupted him.

Hyukjae had gathered all his belongings and started to walk towards the door. When his shoulder brushed past the younger’s, words colder than yesterday’s rain dropped from his lips to the ground.

“I hate all illegal dealings.” He stepped over those words, crushing them with the heels of his shoes.

A bang from the door signaled that the artist was alone.

Don’t cry. He told himself. Now is not the time. Even though Donghae did not believe that crying was in any way associated with femininity or weakness, he didn’t want to cry. Because that would mean everything Hyukjae had implied was right.

He was a criminal. He always had been, and it was something he should rightly be ashamed of. First it was the paintings, and then….

He frowned.

Something didn’t make sense. Before he left, Hyukjae had said the reason he was angry (because that’s what he was, wasn’t it?) was that he hated all illegal dealings. But in the very first place, what felt like half a lifetime when it was only six days ago, the other had not shown any aversion at all to his confession of those paintings.

Donghae could almost see the tangled threads in his mind, just needing patience and insight to unravel everything. Patience he had. Insight on the other hand could only come from the person who had jumbled them up in the first place—

Lee Hyukjae.

The brunet rushed out of the room almost as if he were escaping from someone. A passing blur to Kyuhyun, the artist managed to catch up with the ex-prisoner while he was still in plain sight on the sidewalk, walking steadily away from the building in no hurry.

“Wait, Hyukjae. I promise I won’t bother you anymore if you just answer this one question.” He was a little out of breath from the sprint.

Hyukjae ignored him and continued going forward.

“You said you hated all illegal things. But what about me selling forged paintings? Was that not ‘illegal’ enough for you to hate?” Donghae gave up trying to stop the man, and instead started to walk beside him at a shoulder’s distance.

The marginally taller man had his hands in his pockets, strolling comfortably as if he were taking a walk along the sea after dinner. His eyes stayed perfectly straight, giving nothing away, but if someone was to look closely, even closer than where Donghae was, they would see that his lips were pressed just slightly tighter than usual.

“Why does it matter to you?” It was close to a sneer, and Donghae had to dig fingernails into his palm to resist the urge to escape.

“I want to understand. You owe me this at least, for bailing you out,” he attempted. He had tried to keep his voice level, but it was hard to tell since all his focus was on the person next to him.

Hyukjae really scoffed this time, slowing to stop at an intersection. He turned to face him. “I won’t repeat what I said twice. I’ll transfer the bail money to you later on today. Now if you’ll excuse me Mr. Lee, goodbye, and we won’t see each other again.” He spun around without giving the younger a chance to speak, and began walking down a much quieter lane.

Donghae quickly caught up to him. Without any cars going by, the tension in the silence rose, so thick that the artist was afraid his voice would sound unheard.

“It just doesn’t make any sense. How is selling forged paintings and selling drugs different in illegal terms? You can't act like this now after how you responded when I first met you. Well, you can, but it just doesn't make sense. They’re both crimes so I don’t see why—”

“Wait. Who did you get the drugs from?” Hyukjae cut him off. One car had finally turned into the quiet street, and its engine’s increasing volume served as a somewhat soothing background noise.

Donghae was more or less caught off guard because Hyukjae actually replied him, missing a beat before he answered. "You don't need to worry about that. It's better if you didn't know." He wanted to protect him from the likes of Leeteuk, but it only made Hyukjae's face even darker. "I... I met him through my brother, it's really better for you to not know about those people. You don't need to worry, I won't have anything to do with them in the future, and they don't have reasons to find me, so you..."

Hyukjae had stopped listening after the third line. He was almost certain it was Leeteuk, or Leeteuk's people who had contacted Donghae to do it. The drug business of this whole area was monopolized by them and no-one else, so that much he was certain. But why? A wild speculation planted in Hyukjae's mind, growing furiously until the first leaf sprouted, and his eyebrows knotted together with realization.

How had he not noticed it before?

The approaching car pulled to a stop after passing them. By the time Hyukjae had sensed something was wrong, it was too late.

Donghae had been walking on Hyukjae’s left, farther from the road, so he was the first one to notice the blonde in his peripheral vision since his head was turned to look at the older. The click of the gun was almost inaudible, so was the silenced shot that came after it, and Donghae didn't even have time to make a sound before his body instinctively threw itself into Hyukjae, knocking the taller man off balance to land with a thud onto the gravel road.

He used the momentum to roll over and flip onto his feet, ready to lunge forward at the attacker if there was a chance. Yet the blonde didn't give him any, holding the gun steadily with both hands and aiming it directly at the defenseless man, a winning smirk on his face.

"Well, well. What have we here? A hero rescuing his damsel from the dragon? Too bad he's not a hero, and you're far from a damsel, you worthless, useless piece of ." He spat out the last words through gritted teeth. 

"Jeongsu." Hyukjae hissed. "I should have known. I trusted you all this time I didn't even suspect anything." His eyes never left the gun, for as much as he wanted to go over and check on the motionless brunet, he couldn't let by any possible slips that the blonde might make.

Leeteuk gave a curt laugh; his fingers tightened over the weapon. "Maybe it's because you were so engrossed in... whatever the you spend your time doing. It sure as hell isn't anything to do with the things your father left you after he earned it through his hard work. You just let all of that go to waste while you—"

"So that's why you're here." Hyukjae's head fell back unexpectedly as he gave a slightly-crazed, mocking laugh, ending in little uncontrollable snickers that spilled out of his lips. "You're just a dog for my father, Jeongsu. Admit it."

"You..." His finger had already begun to move the trigger, and with just one more fraction it would go off a second time.

Leeteuk stared at Hyukjae with fury in his eyes. It burned with resentment, jealousy, and anger at what the heir had so carelessly revealed… then he suddenly relaxed. He wasn't going to fall for his amateur tricks. "It's not so easy to distract me, Hyukjae. After all, I learnt from the best." His smile was full of dimples; referring to the person he knew the other hated the most.

Hyukjae's eyes hardened as he lowered his back slightly. "So what's your plan? Come on, you must tell me before I die. Otherwise who else would know of your brilliance?" His hands had curled into fists, his center of gravity shifting unnoticeably to his lower half.

"Don't even think about it, Hyukjae. You know there's no way you can defeat me without any weapons." His eyes curved menacingly as the point of the gun shifted with Hyukjae’s movements, keeping the target on his heart. “The plan? Some artist was trying to harm our boss’ beloved son. I did my best to rescue him but I missed the first time and accidentally killed said son. Then I revenged his death by killing that artist. Any holes in my plan?” Leeteuk steadied his hands more if that was even possible. He wasn’t taking any chances.

“No, it sounds plausible… but you missed a part in the beginning.” Hyukjae closed his eyes momentarily, using the chance to take a deep breath. When they opened, he was already moving too fast for the blonde to recognize the mercilessness within them.

“There’s no way I can defeat you without any weapons… while staying unharmed.”

Another silenced shot. Leeteuk’s eyes widened as everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Or a better way to say it was, everything except for Hyukjae was moving in slow motion.

He saw the paler man take a shot in the arm without even blinking an eye. He saw him cross the meters between them in less than two steps. He saw the hand that came up to take his gun. He heard the third shot he fired shatter a window on the other side of the street.

Leeteuk could only watch as the gun was taken from his hands after his wrists were dislocated with a crunch. He didn’t have time to say any last words before the fourth shot that day silenced him forever.

For a while, there was no sound except for Donghae’s unsteady breathing.

*

The end.

Just kidding.

*

Ten years later.

Hyukjae sat down in the last seat of the square dining table, facing the person whom he thought would never complete a conversation with him without attempting to pull out his gun at least twice, let alone have dinner together. He picked up his half-filled glass of wine, meeting three other glasses in mid-air as they all gave good-hearted wishes to each other. Hyukjae smiled genuinely with all his gums. He enjoyed this feeling of warmth he received from the three people around him. Although it wasn’t the same as when his mother had been alive, he decided it was enough to fill his heart with happiness and hope, two of the essential things for survival. If only his mother had been alive though. If only his father hadn’t….

Hyukjae took another sip of wine to drown those thoughts. He was not going to let them ruin his mood today.

And anyways, he’s been making sure his father lived each second in regret towards him and his mother.

Being in his late fifties, Hyukjae’s father wanted nothing more than to retire and live his last years peacefully with a family of his own. But his right hand, Leeteuk, had simply vanished one day with no explanation, and the only family he was related to by blood did not consider him as one. Every day, his white hairs were multiplying exponentially from still having to work and take care of his businesses, since his son had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with it. He had tried to set up a new family by marrying a second time, but all of the women had blacklisted him after their initial meeting, and it wasn’t hard to guess who was behind all of this. He wished his son would let him go, yet he also knew how much he had taken away from him because of that mistake years ago. So in the end, he could do nothing but sigh, and pray that his son-in-law could have pity on him and make his son change his mind.

“So, Donghae, how are your latest artworks coming along?” Kyuhyun’s wife Victoria asked, stuffing another slice of roast pork into the lunchbox in front of her as if it wasn’t already so full the lid could not be closed.

Kyuhyun tapped her lightly in reminder. “We have a daughter, not a pig.”

“Yes, Tiffany is a daughter. A daughter who is growing and needs the right nutrition! She’s still too skinny in my opinion—”

“That’s because she always shares her food with Bora. We don't even have to pack any lunch for her since Tiffany’s lunch is enough for two.” Donghae chuckled, sharing a glance with Hyukjae at the memory of their teenage adopted daughter telling them everyday what she ate from Tiffany's lunchbox. “And my artworks are still needing some time. Ever since that accident my right arm has been less steady, but I’m sure the newest one can be out in a week or so.”

“Are you sure? The last time you said that, it took you a month and you had to pay more than you received in the end to compensate for your lateness. If you keep going like this we’re gonna end up broke and all three of us will have to live off Tiffany’s lunchbox.” Hyukjae’s gums were twinkling again, and this time Donghae joined in.

“Hey, it’s not that much!” Victoria protested. “Well, ok, maybe it’s a bit more than normal but…”

“I’m sure even if you’re late, Hyukjae can just find you another buyer.” Kyuhyun teased, his smile slightly lop-sided with pure, uncut evil as he knew exactly what would set Donghae and his husband off.

“Hyukjae?” Donghae peered threateningly sideways at the dark-haired male, who wasted no time to explain after shooting Kyuhyun a warning glance.

“Who told you that? It’s not true, Hae, I promise, it was just that one time because our whole house stank from that painting which was really beautiful I mean all your creations are beautiful just like you but that painting's smell was unbearable I really couldn’t stand it anymore no matter how much I tried so I got someone to buy it. But I swear, it was just that once! I never did it again! Hae, come on, would you trust a dirty old retired police over your significant other, your one and only, the love of your life?” The whole table (minus Hyukjae) had grown so disgusted from the last few descriptions that Victoria removed a piece of meat from the lunchbox.

At last Donghae nodded slightly, and Hyukjae wiped sweat from his brows in relief. “I believe you. But it seems like we have a problem. I’m an artist, so of course I’d make paintings and they would definitely sometimes be moved from the garage to the inside of our house. I think you need to get used to them, Hyukjae, so I’ll bring some unfinished ones inside and you can sleep beside them on the sofa tonight.” He reached for his glass, satisfied with his verdict.

“No!” Hyukjae pushed the glass down with both of his hands, not caring that there were two other pairs of eyes in the room watching them with fascination. “You can’t do this… come on… Hae…?”

Truthfully, he didn’t mind the smell that much. But if he slept on the sofa, how could he do his daily (sometimes even hourly when Bora was away at a friend’s for a sleepover) ‘night-time exercises’ with his attractive husband?

His fingers clutched Donghae’s arm with desperation for the rest of the night, yet the brunet would not budge. He had to punish him somehow, or else he wouldn’t learn. Little did he know that his punishments were futile because this time it affected one of the most important (?) aspects of Hyukjae’s life, and an angry Hyukjae meant a tired, lying-on-his-stomach-too-weak-to-punch-his-husband-in-the-parts-where-it-hurt Donghae the next day.

Of course, that’s what would happen later.

In the midst of his begging and attempted ‘aegyo’, Hyukjae received a message from Donghwa to report his completion of the latest task. He had asked what he should do next, and Hyukjae replied telling him to go home and have a good rest. He wanted to tell Donghae this, although he was scared it might make their relationship worse. In the end he ignored the coldness he might receive in return and mentioned to Donghae about his brother being well and resting right now. All he got was a scoff, accompanied by ‘what does that have to do with me’, but Hyukjae could see the relief in his lover’s eyes. No matter how much they argued with each other—Donghwa for wanting to work under Hyukjae doing what he does best; Donghae for wanting his brother to stop putting his life on the line—Hyukjae knew that he still cared about him, and worried for him all the time.

It was understandable that Donghae didn't want his brother to end up like Leeteuk, who had thrown himself so completely into his work that he hated Hyukjae for not using his power to its capability. Dealings with criminals all the time had turned him into one, and all he could think about was how to punish Hyukjae for wasting his potential, when all Hyukjae had done was to avoid what reminded him of his childhood pain. It was the reason that he was angry at Donghae that day ten years ago, for whether it was ion or drugs, the brunet had gotten himself involved in a world that Hyukjae had constantly wanted to cut away from his body, but failed to do so. Leeteuk had tricked Donghae into participating in what Hyukjae hated the most in order to punish the heir by combining his interest with what caused him pain, since the forged paintings had taken Hyukjae by surprise, and did not affect him as much while he was busy being intrigued by the artist himself. Then after he had been hurt completely, the blonde was to end his useless life once and for all. Leeteuk had been a tragedy, someone whom Hyukjae added to his father's list of crimes, and Donghae didn't want Donghwa to be anywhere near the place that had turned him into one. But stubborness ran in the family; Donghwa wanted to earn money with his own hands. Hyukjae had nothing to say to that, only agreed to let him do what he could under his people. Only time will improve their relationship, so Hyukjae stood back and allowed them to sort it out between themselves.

Eri had left. No one knows where she intended on going, but one day she had knocked on Donghae’s door, given him a goodbye hug, and told him that she would come back after she found a way to “save” him from Hyukjae. (At which her eyes had glowered and looked like something from a Japanese horror movie, and Donghae hurriedly hugged her again to stop himself seeing that chilling glare). When they both stepped back, Donghae had laughed, ruffling her hair while repeating for the millionth time that you can’t save someone from falling in love. She was determined to go, though, so Donghae let her. Because no matter how she labeled it, it was essentially a goal to get stronger, and make herself into a better person than she was today. To have this kind of courage was commendable, so Donghae was not going to be the one to stop her from reaching her potential.

As for Siwon? After getting a warning from Hyukjae that involved not less than five men and six guns, he had contacted Donghae less and less each day until one day, Donghae forgot about him. He never forgot about Choi’s motel, where he spent four days working day and night on the painting that would save two of his friends, one of which would later become his lover, but the Choi Siwon that owned the place slowly and surely faded out of his memory. It wasn’t the greatest way to deal with third wheels that dared to him and Donghae, but hey, Hyukjae was never one to play fair.

*