TWENTY-TWO

For a moment, the room is silent. Heechul and Hyukjae both stare at him, and Donghae just stands there in the doorway, champagne for his and Hyukjae’s dinner in one hand, the huge bouquet of flowers in the other. Seated opposite each other on empty packing crates, Heechul’s dark eyes are almost expressionless but Hyukjae-

Hyukjae is looking at Donghae as if he’s seen a ghost. His face has drained of colour; he looks sick.

 ‘D-Donghae?’ he whispers.

‘Don’t tell me what?’ Donghae repeats. He places the champagne down and advances into the room, and his heart’s beating fast now and he doesn’t know why.

‘It-it’s nothing,’ Hyukjae says, and his attempt at a cheerful smile is so shaky and unconvincing that it frightens Donghae. Donghae’s eyes move from Hyukjae to the little pile of money in front of him, then to Heechul.

‘Hyung?’ he says. ‘Do you know Hyukjae?’

‘Somewhat,’ Heechul says, and he glances at the confectioner.

‘Hyukjae?’ Donghae tries to smile too, because it’s Hyukjae. ‘You didn’t tell me you two knew each other?’

‘You were supposed to message me before you came over,’ Hyukjae says, and it’s almost as if he didn’t hear Donghae at all. He runs trembling fingers through his hair and opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something else, then changes his mind and bites his lip instead.

‘H-How did you guys meet?’ Donghae asks, and there’s something- there’s something terribly wrong but he doesn’t know what it is, what it could possibly be.

‘Work,’ Heechul says, and then Hyukjae seems to break free of whatever spell had held him frozen in one place. He bounds to his feet and comes over to Donghae, arms outstretched to embrace him.

‘It’s nothing,’ he says again, kissing Donghae on the cheek. ‘He’s just going. We can talk later, but don’t you want to come upstairs first?’

His lips are cold.

Donghae takes a step back, evading Hyukjae as he leans in again, and the little gasp that escapes the confectioner’s mouth hurts.

‘W-what do you mean, work?’ Donghae says, and he’s talking to Heechul but his eyes are on Hyukjae.

‘Hae,’ Hyukjae says, and he reaches for him again; but without even meaning to, Donghae brings a hand up against Hyukjae’s chest, stopping him. He needs to know what the is going on and- Hyukjae is trying to distract him with kisses and-

And it’s not the first time he’s done this.

Donghae’s chest is starting to ache.

Behind Hyukjae, Heechul is just sitting there watching them silently. His knuckles are bloody.

‘Donghae,’ Hyukjae says, soft and urgent. ‘Hae, I can explain, please let’s just go upstairs. I- I’ve made dinner, and- and we’re going to have such a good night, I’ll explain later and-‘

‘Hyukjae,’ Donghae says faintly. ‘Stop. Please, I want to know what’s going on.’

Hyukjae’s breath hitches and he steps back. A moment earlier he’d been talking almost like he was unable to stop, but now his lips press together and he doesn’t say anything. Donghae looks to Heechul instead.

‘Hyung, what’s this about?’

Heechul puts his hands in his pockets and looks over at the confectioner as if giving the other man a chance to say something; when he doesn’t, Heechul shrugs.

‘Ask your pretty boyfriend.’

‘I’m asking you!’ Donghae’s fingers tighten around the stems of the flowers he’s still holding. Hyukjae is afraid, and Donghae doesn’t want to think it’s because of Heechul; but he knows who Heechul’s family are, he knows what they do. He takes a deep breath.

‘Heechul,’ he says, and he’s really trying hard to stay calm. ‘Heechul, was what happened to Hyukjae anything to do with you?’

‘Everything that happens in this neighbourhood has something to do with me,’ Heechul says, and he glances over at Hyukjae, lips curving into a smile Donghae doesn’t like at all. ‘Hyukjae, would you like to tell Donghae why I’m here?’

‘Please don’t,’ Hyukjae whispers, and Donghae has heard him like this only once before; when he was huddled in a plastic chair, beaten and terrified at the hospital. Donghae suddenly can’t handle it anymore. Something in him snaps and he flings the flowers aside and crosses the room in two steps, grabbing Heechul by his collar and pulling him to his feet.

‘What did you do to him?’

Dimly he hears Hyukjae shouting for him to stop, hears the bodyguards burst into the room, and then he’s on the floor, ears ringing. He shakes his head to clear it, sees blood drip, wonders where it’s from until he touches his lip.

‘I didn’t do anything to him,’ Heechul says, and there’s anger in him now too. Donghae scrambles to his feet.

‘I don’t believe you! You and your ing mafia !’

He’s not taken a step towards Heechul before one of the bodyguards grabs him by the arm. Donghae wrenches free, hears something smash, swings wildly at the second bodyguard but then someone has him in a headlock, and he can’t ing breathe.

‘Stop it!’ Hyukjae is screaming, ‘Donghae, stop, it was me.’

Everything is going fuzzy around the edges.

‘Let him go,’ Heechul is saying sharply, and he sounds like he’s very far away, but then Donghae is suddenly on the floor again, in big gasps of air. Someone is kneeling in front of him between him and Heechul, fingers tight around Donghae’s arms to stop him from getting up.

Hyukjae’s face swims into view and Donghae blinks at him, dazed.

‘Stop,’ Hyukjae says, and his eyes are wet, lips trembling. ‘Donghae, please stop, it wasn’t Heechul. It’s me that screwed up, I should have told you, I should have ing told you, I’m so sorry-’

‘Told me what?’ Donghae wheezes, struggle to sit up.

‘Don’t be angry,’ Hyukjae is saying, still holding Donghae’s arm. ‘Hae, I- I was going to talk to you about it-’

‘No you weren’t,’ Heechul says from somewhere behind him. ‘He knows me for work, Donghae. My work. Not my family’s.’

‘What?’ Donghae looks from Hyukjae to Heechul, confused. ‘Your work?’

‘Mine,’ Heechul confirms.

Donghae blinks again, because nothing is making sense. He knows what Heechul does, of course. He knows about his private empire, the popular website, the warehouse that looks boring on the outside but is filled with sound stages and sets. He’s seen the fake bedrooms surrounded by lights and cameras, blushed as Heechul ushered him past a polystyrene dungeon filled with props, knows that He