TWENTY-FOUR

‘Donghae?’

Donghae, for one moment, is frozen in shock.

He hears Hyukjae’s quick footsteps cross the room, hears him put a plastic bag on the counter and then his sharp intake of breath on seeing Donghae curled up on the sofa.

‘Hae!’

The other man hurries to kneel beside the sofa, and Donghae-

Donghae doesn’t know what the to do!

His heart beats faster and he blinks up at Hyukjae, panicking. He hasn’t got his contact lenses in or his glasses on; he can’t even read the other man’s expression for a clue on why he’s here, why he rushed inside, why he’s smoothing Donghae’s messy, damp hair back to rest a cool palm against his forehead.

‘Siwon told me you were sick,’ Hyukjae murmurs. ‘, I wish I’d known. You’re burning up!’

Donghae does in fact feel like he’s on fire, but it’s not because of a fever; embarrassment, confusion, love and distress are making his face hot. He’s not ready to see Hyukjae yet, he hasn’t prepared himself mentally for it, he doesn’t know what he should say or do! And there is so ing much that needs to be said too, but Donghae’s tired, stressed brain is suddenly vastly empty. It’s like those first precious encounters with Hyukjae when Donghae was just a customer with a crush; he opens his mouth and there’s ing nothing.

‘H-hyukjae?’ he manages. Gentle hands are holding his arms, easing him up until he’s sitting. Hyukjae’s anxious face swims into focus as he leans closer.

‘Let’s get you to bed,’ Hyukjae says. ‘You’ll get even sicker just lying here. Hae, baby, can you stand?’

The kindness of his voice, the way the little endearment just slips out, it makes Donghae’s chest ache. He reaches out for the other man without even thinking, but Hyukjae takes it as a request for assistance and slips his arm around Donghae’s shoulders, helping him to his feet.

‘Careful,’ he says, and he’s warm and close, and Donghae’s so ing glad that Siwon made him take a shower. He needs to tell Hyukjae he’s not really that sick, he only has a cold; but once he’s on his feet he really does feel light-headed and wobbly. He has barely eaten over the past two days and he’s probably a bit dehydrated too, so he has to close his eyes for a few seconds until the room stops spinning.

‘Hae?’

Hyukjae is gazing at him with so much concern that Donghae has to turn aside, trembling at how strong his feelings are for the other man. Hyukjae immediately lets go of him, bringing his hands awkwardly to his sides instead.

‘Sorry,’ he says softly. Then he takes a deep breath and his smile is back, a little shaky, but it’s there. ‘Can I help you get to bed at least?’

‘Yeah,’ Donghae whispers. Hyukjae very carefully takes him by the elbow and guides him to his room. Donghae’s actually feeling okay now he’s been standing up for a minute, but he doesn’t know what to do, he can’t ing think. He’s just clearing his throat, about to tell Hyukjae he’s feeling fine now, when beside him, Hyukjae suddenly freezes. His fingers tighten on Donghae’s arm.

He’s seen the state of the bedroom.

Donghae’s cheeks turn pink with shame at the evidence of his outburst; the overturned bedside table, the clothes thrown on the floor, the crumpled tissues scattered over everything like snow.

Hyukjae doesn’t say anything though. He just picks up some of the pillows and arranges them so Donghae won’t just be lying on the mattress like he has been, and then he goes to the hall cupboard to find more blankets. Donghae finds himself tucked up warmly, listening as Hyukjae moves about the kitchen. He hears the microwave and the sound of containers being opened and then manages to find his glasses so he can at least see when Hyukjae reappears, carrying a tray with a steaming, fragrant bowl of soup, a lemon drink and some headache medicine.

Hyukjae carefully balances the tray while he turns the bedside table right way up and pushes it near enough that Donghae can easily reach the food.

‘Before you say anything,’ he says, ‘It- it was Siwon who organized and paid for this. Not me.’

Donghae wonders how much Siwon had exaggerated to have Hyukjae rush over to see him in such a panic. He doesn’t know whether to curse or thank his interfering friend.

Hyukjae rubs his neck awkwardly.

‘He’s very handsome,’ he says. ‘He’s- uh, he’s the one from Busan, right?’

. Hyukjae’s not stupid. He’s clearly worked out who Siwon is – or was – to Donghae.

‘He- uh, he seems very nice,’ Hyukjae continues, blinking rapidly. ‘I’m um- I’m glad he’s been looking after you.’

He gives a weak smile.

‘You were expecting him to come back, right? And it was just me.’

Donghae barely hears him. He’s certainly not thinking about Siwon. He has Hyukjae there in front of him. Now Donghae has his glasses on, he can see how pale the other man is; how thin his cheeks have gotten, how tired his eyes are. He’s standing there with a painful smile on his face and it doesn’t reach his beautiful, kind eyes at all.

‘Well,’ he says. ‘I guess- um, if you’re feeling okay, I guess I’ll be going.’

‘No!’

Before Hyukjae can move, Donghae has flung the blankets back and nearly knocked the soup off the table in his haste to grab Hyukjae by the hand.

‘Don’t go,’ he says. ‘You can't go, we haven’t talked yet!’

It feels like if Hyukjae walks out the door, Donghae might lose him for good.

Hyukjae's eyes widen, startled. He gives Donghae’s fingers a little squeeze then tries to withdraw again, but Donghae doesn’t let go.

‘Donghae.’ Hyukjae’s voice is weak. ‘What are you doing? Please don’t make this harder than it already is.’

‘Or,’ Donghae says rapidly, ‘Or we can not talk. We don’t have to talk, Hyukjae, not yet. Just- just don’t leave.’

He doesn’t mean to be manipulative, he really doesn’t, but his voice is wobbling and then his cold strikes him down in a fit of sneezing. Hyukjae sighs.

‘Alright,’ he says quietly. ‘I’ll sit with you for a bit. But then I really have to go, Donghae.’

Donghae nods eagerly, moving over so Hyukjae can sit beside him on the bed, but Hyukjae has already gone to the hallway to get the chair Siwon left outside the bathroom.

‘You should get some sleep,’ he says. ‘Will you eat first?’

Donghae shakes his head, so Hyukjae picks the bedside lamp off the floor and checks it still works (somehow it does) and uncertainly takes Donghae’s hand again. The way he carefully wraps his fingers around Donghae's make it seem like he's waiting to be shaken off. Donghae holds him tighter, and Hyukjae glances at his face and he looks...

Confused?

Donghae doesn't dare ask why. He knows they have a lot to talk about, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't angry and upset by some of the things Hyukjae has said and done - but it can wait. He just wants to be near Hyukjae first.

They stay like that for some time, lost in their own thoughts in the quiet of the apartment. Hyukjae’s thumb cautiously the back of Donghae’s knuckles, a soothing little gesture that again, seems hesitant.

Donghae becomes drowsy in spite of everything.

The next thing he knows, Hyukjae is leaning over him, cool fingertips brushing against the side of his face.

‘I didn’t mean to wake you,’ he says softly. ‘But you’re still wearing your glasses. You can’t sleep in those.’

He places them on the bedside table. Blearily Donghae realizes the soup has been cleared away. From what he can see, the things he’d thrown around his room have been tidied too, his clothes neatly folded and the pieces of his phone placed on the table beside the lamp.

‘Hyukjae?’ he whispers.

‘Yeah?’

‘You’re not going are you?’

Hyukjae is silent.

Donghae props himself up on his elbows and fumbles to put his glasses back on. He needs to see the other man’s face.

‘Hyukjae,’ he says again. ‘I miss you.’

Hyukjae takes a shuddering breath, and when he looks at Donghae, his eyes are wet.

‘I miss you too,’ he says. ‘So ing much.’

‘I miss you,’ Donghae says again, sitting up and stretching out his arms for a hug. Hyukjae bites his bottom lip and takes a step back, but Donghae keeps his arms out.

‘Hyukkie,’ he says pleadingly, and Hyukjae’s resolve crumbles. He reaches out and Donghae folds him into his arms, Hyukjae’s hair soft against his cheek, breath warm and ragged against his neck. For a few minutes they just stay like that, wrapped up in one another.

‘H-Hyukjae,’ Donghae whispers. ‘Did you meant it? Are- are we still broken up?’

Hyukjae swallows hard and then sits up, finding Donghae’s hand again and squeezing it tight.

‘Yeah,’ he says, barely audible. ‘I- I think so.’

Donghae takes a quivering breath.

‘Why?’

‘Donghae,’ Hyukjae says, anguished. ‘You know why. Please don’t do this. It- it’s for the best, you know it is-’

‘It’s not best!’ Donghae bursts out. ‘Not for me! And- and you care about me too or you wouldn’t be here, so it’s not best for you, either!’

He takes a deep breath.

‘Is it?’

Hyukjae doesn’t say anything, just stares down at their interwoven fingers.

‘Is it, Hyukkie?’ Donghae repeats, uncertain now, voice barely a whisper.

Hyukjae presses the heel of his free hand to his eyes. He looks so tired.

‘Let’s talk about it in the morning, Hae.’

There’s so ing much they need to talk about; Hyukjae's secrets, Donghae's obliviousness, the hurt they've caused each other. Hyukjae is right though. If they talk now, they will both just end up more upset and angry. Donghae slowly loosens his grip on the other man’s fingers.

‘You’ll stay?’

‘Yeah,’ Hyukjae says. 'I- I don't know why you want me to, but I will. Try get some sleep.’

‘Promise?’

‘Yeah,’ Hyukjae says. He manages a smile and sits back down.

Donghae heaves a sigh. His nose is blocked again and his head is aching. He’s determined to stay awake however. Absolutely determined.

Within minutes he’s snoring.

When he next opens his eyes, he is alone.

He picks up his phone to see what the time is before remembering it’s broken.

It feels late. The apartment is in darkness.

Has Hyukjae gone?

Donghae slips out of bed and pads out into the living area, hoping to see the other man sleeping on the sofa.

The sofa is empty.

But sitting on the floor and leaning against the full length window, face angled to gaze out over the dark city, is Hyukjae. His soft-and-sharp profile is lit only by the cool glow of moonlight, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them.

Donghae is just about to ask him why he isn’t sleeping when he hears a soft sniffle. He gasps.

'Hyukjae?'

Hyukjae doesn’t even hear him as he hurries over. It’s only when he reaches out to touch the confectioner’s knee that Hyukjae startles, hurriedly wiping his face.

‘S-sorry!’ He struggles to pull that worn smile back on. ‘Did I wake you? Sorry. I just, uh- I just-’

He falters to a halt and just stares at Donghae helplessly, lips pressed together.

And Donghae knows it’s not just about him.

Hyukjae is so hurt.

He’s been hurting for so long, hiding behind bright smiles and kisses, and Donghae’s done nothing except make things more difficult for him. Donghae wants to cry too, but he can’t because he knows if he does then Hyukjae will immediately put aside his own pain to comfort him.

Why has he never ing noticed how near the other man has been to breaking?

He's lost his income. He's been threatened and beaten up. He's done the most intimate things on camera to try make enough money to save his little business, and Donghae, eyes filled with stars, had been too lost in love to see beyond the earnest reassurances, those soft dark eyes and urgent kisses.

Because of him, Hyukjae waits to cry by himself, arms tight around his knees like he can hold himself together.