Hi hi hi I'm back!!! Apologies for the incredibly long wait -- I took my A'levels last year, and then found it easier to work on my other fanfics (because as you should know by now, this fic is A Lot, which is also why I love it, but that's not the point). 

But here it is now, and I hope life's been well for you since the last time you were here.

Enjoy the chapter!

The next few days go by in the blink of an eye. They settle into an easy routine of waking up slightly past 10 in the morning — it’s the time where the sunlight somehow finds a way to slip into the dimly-lit room by miracle or by force — before they eat brunch — usually avocado toast, because Donghae — then spend the rest of the day watching silly sitcoms on Netflix. Then it’s time for another meal before they sit on the balcony to enjoy the evening breeze and talk about anything under the sun. Donghae likes to fiddle with his camera trying to capture perfectly how the moonlight’s dancing on Hyukjae’s cheekbones, and Hyukjae’s just contented with having Donghae’s eyes on him.

It’s a very simple routine. Needless to say, though, it’s also the best week of his life. Being with Donghae tends to have that effect. Also the fact that Hyukjae has resolutely refused to check his phone these past days, afraid of what he’ll find. That might have helped, too.

But obviously good times don’t last, or they do and Hyukjae just doesn’t deserve them, because on the fifth day Hyukjae’s tugging a very sleepy Donghae down the stairs by his hand when he sees Leeteuk sitting in the living room.

He can’t help the sinking feeling in his stomach, and doesn’t even bother trying to hide the disappointment from showing on his face.

“Thought we made a deal about you not turning your phone off,” Leeteuk says, in lieu of a greeting.

“Morning to you too, hyung,” Hyukjae mutters, limbs already heavy with dread.

That seems to wake Donghae up a little, the realisation that there’s another in the room that Hyukjae’s addressing as ‘hyung’. He rubs at his eyes, willing to get the sleep out of his body, and feels his heart sink when he realises Leeteuk’s right here, sitting in his house.

His grip on Hyukjae’s hand tightens unknowingly, and Hyukjae hides the wince like an expert because he knows Donghae’s just being protective and he loves that about him. Says a lot about the nature of their relationship, maybe. The amount of protectiveness and comfort with said protectiveness probably already explains how unconventional — and by extension, unlikely — the relationship should have been. Too bad they like to do things the difficult way.

“Hey Donghae,” Leeteuk greets him, offering a polite smile. 

Donghae doesn’t usually have anything against Leeteuk. He’s a good guy and he treats Hyukjae well enough that Donghae doesn’t find faults with him — which is kind of rare, actually, because Donghae has ridiculously high standards for what constitutes ‘well’ when it comes to Hyukjae. But Donghae also knows Hyukjae probably has to leave with Leeteuk today and that in itself is enough to generate certain hostility. 

He thinks maybe he should ask ‘are you here to bring Hyukjae home?’, but instead what slips out of his mouth is: “Are you here to take Hyukjae away from me?”

He feels Hyukjae squeeze his hand as if in reassurance, but Donghae’s already shielding Hyukjae from Leeteuk with his own body before he knows it. 

If Leeteuk is surprised by the sudden show of possessiveness, he doesn’t let it show on his face. 

“Duty calls, Donghae. Surely you of all people should know that,” Leeteuk says. 

Donghae doesn’t know what to say to that. Of course he knows that. It’s just difficult having to let your boyfriend go, is all. He doesn’t say anything back to Leeteuk, and instead drags Hyukjae over to the kitchen. 

“What do you want for breakfast? I’m thinking French toast,” Donghae says, opening the fridge and pointedly avoiding Leeteuk’s presence.

“Anything goes,” Hyukjae responds, taking out bread from the cupboard. 

“I think it’s your turn to make us brunch,” Donghae points out, sporting a cheeky grin.

Despite the sinking feeling in Hyukjae’s chest that will not go away — just because Leeteuk’s here, and it means he’s going to have to go, away from everything that makes him feel sane and safe — he finds himself smiling, albeit a little bitterly. Donghae makes him so happy. He really, really does.

“Fine, but I’m expecting you to cook us ramen the next time,” he says. He wishes he could say ‘tomorrow’. Who knows when the next time will be?

But Donghae only presses a quick kiss to his cheek and says ‘yeah, okay’ before he moves to retrieve the ingredients.

Leeteuk can tell how hard they’re pretending to be in their own little bubble over at the kitchen, so he doesn’t burst it for them. Not yet, at least. He likes seeing Hyukjae happy, and wishes it could last longer as well. He goes back to drinking the cup of coffee Mrs Lee made for him, thinking perhaps he’ll give them till after breakfast before talking to them. 

—

Hyukjae prepares the food, and Donghae pretends to be helpful by sitting at different countertops and watching Hyukjae do his thing. He’s also taking pictures of Hyukjae — because obviously he is — but he doubts he can be blamed when his boyfriend looks this great doing literally anything. 

“I think you should go on Masterchef,” Donghae says, looking through the pictures he’s taken on his phone. 

Hyukjae flips the slices expertly, in lieu of a response. “See! That’s what I’m talking about!” Donghae adds, thrilled. 

The excitement in Donghae’s voice sends Hyukjae chuckling, and he sets the golden-brown slices onto a plate with a pair of chopsticks. “I doubt I’ll make it past the first round.”

Donghae jumps off the latest countertop he’s been acquainting himself with and stands by Hyukjae. “You just need a lot more practice. Lucky for you, I like eating a lot of different kinds of food so you can probably try them all out. Let’s start with Italian food,” Donghae rambles on.

Hyukjae pinches his cheek, a fond smile on his face. “You’re just trying to embarrass me. We both know I can only make good ramen.” ‘

“And French toast!” Donghae adds, pointing at the plate of perfectly-fried bread slices. “Everyone has to start somewhere, anyway. And you have my unwavering support.”

“Okay, thanks for believing in me then. Maybe we should start eating before you change your mind about me making good French toast.” 

Donghae pouts, but gets to setting the table anyway. He makes them both coffee as Hyukjae gets to washing the dishes, and he can’t help but feel like this is the way things have always been, and should always be. 

They exist so perfectly in each other’s spaces — it’s unfair that they have to be without each other. Sometimes it’s in the little actions that Donghae really sees how nicely they’ve accommodated each other into their own lives. It’s things like this that make him go ‘we should be together forever’, and really believe in it. 

Hyukjae grabs a serving for Leeteuk, and decides it’s only polite he invites him over to the table as well. He wants him at the table as much as Donghae does — which is not a lot, considering the circumstances — but he’d have to get it over and done with some time, anyway. 

Leeteuk doesn’t have to spend time contemplating where he should sit, because Donghae makes up his mind to sit next to Hyukjae anyway. He sits across from Hyukjae, and gestures for them to dig in a bit awkwardly. 

“How was the drive?” Hyukjae asks, breaking the silence.

“It was okay,” Leeteuk responds. Hyukjae’s not exactly good at small talk.

They continue eating in silence for a while more. Hyukjae drizzles maple syrup over Donghae’s bread slices and then on his own, and Leeteuk turns down the offer before Hyukjae can even make it. No thanks — he can pour maple syrup himself. 

It’s a bit rude of him to burst their little bubble, he thinks, but what’s done must be done anyway, and it’s not like they haven’t had a few days away from the world. He clears his throat, and they both look up at him. “We’ll have to leave by 4. Your father would like to see you after dinner.”

They don’t say anything immediately, but Leeteuk doesn’t miss the way Donghae’s holding onto his coffee cup a bit more tightly. 

“Do I have to eat dinner with him?” Hyukjae asks. 

“It’s not in the plan, no.” To be fair, Mr Lee did bring up something about dinner, but Leeteuk had declined it on the grounds that they wouldn’t make it back in time. Which was technically a lie — since Hyukjae could go for dinner if they leave slightly earlier. But he also knows Hyukjae well enough to realise that Hyukjae would probably kill him if he learns that he’d have to sit down for a meal with his father just hours after being dragged away from Donghae.

“Okay,” Hyukjae says, because what else can he really say?

They finish up their food fast, and Leeteuk thanks them for the meal before making a move to leave. Though it’s not like they’d chase him out of the house, even he himself is uncomfortable with the idea of just sitting in the living room for so many hours just waiting to pick Hyukjae up. At least exploring the neighbourhood a bit would be more interesting. He reminds Hyukjae that he’ll be back on time, and feels sorry the instance he sees the disappointment Hyukjae’s trying so desperately to mask as he waves him goodbye. 

Donghae’s loading up the dishwasher when he feels Hyukjae’s presence next to him.

“We should try making soufflé pancakes next time,” he says, out of nowhere.

Hyukjae nods distractedly, watching as he presses the buttons on the dishwasher. 

“You remember what they are, right? We went to that dessert place in Tokyo, remember? The one with strawberries and kiwis,” Donghae continues. 

“What shall we do now?” Hyukjae asks, despite knowing very well the only reason Donghae’s brought up soufflé pancakes is because he doesn’t want to talk or even think about it. 

Donghae sighs and shrugs. “I don’t know. What do you want to do?” 

Suddenly all the interesting date ideas and plans fly out the window. It’s not about having a BBQ by the beach, or about camping under the stars. It’s not about trying to bake a cake and end up smearing whipped cream on each other’s faces and getting scolded by a very furious Mrs Lee, or about trying to have a photoshoot with all the most randomly put together outfits by the balcony with Donghae’s camera. Hyukjae doesn’t know what they can, or should do, in the remaining hours together, so he says the only thing he knows is true: “I want to be with you.”

Donghae watches the sullen expression on Hyukjae’s face, and hates how Hyukjae’s wearing it so familiarly. The last thing Hyukjae should know this well is grief — for the times they’ve lost, and the times they’ll lose.

He pulls him into a hug, and runs his fingers through Hyukjae’s soft hair. “Silly Hyukkie. I’m always here.”

—

There isn’t much they can do; not on such short notice, anyway. So they take a very long and warm bath together, and settles down on Donghae’s bed with his laptop playing a movie that he’s sure neither of them is actually watching.

“Sorry I couldn’t spend your who