[CONTENTID1]Don't leave me [/CONTENTID1]

[CONTENTID2]Sequel[/CONTENTID2]

[CONTENTID3]

Donghae opened his eyes, gasping as a choked sob broke out of his quivering frame. He hunched over, circling his arms around his knees as he buried his head, tears running down his cheeks.

“Donghae?! Are you alright?!”

An alarmed voice called out to him in the darkness. 

He clenched his eyes shut, his hands against the sheets as memories flooded into his mind. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead, his heart racing rapidly in fear.

A light flickered on.

The room flooded into his view.

He wasn’t in Hyukjae’s room anymore.

But he was in Hyukjae’s room. 

At least not the one he was in earlier. Not the dorm room with the One Piece manga scattered all over the over or packets of instant noodles stashed away in the drawers. 

He was on Hyukjae’s bed, but it wasn’t the small bed with the lumpy mattress. Not the one with the faded Batman covers and cotton sheets. 

No, he was on a king sized bed, large enough to fit many people, with comfortable silk sheets screwn about. He warily looked around, taking in the expensive vintage decor and the large mirror breathing out a shaky sigh of relief, tears still streaming down his face.

“Donghae, what’s going on?!”

A figure came into his view, his vision still slightly blurred. The man bent down, cupping Donghae’s cheeks, wiping the tears away with the pads of his thumbs. 

“Hae...” 

He gazed at the man with wide orbs. 

“Hyuk.” He whimpered. 

The figure before him wasn’t Hyukjae. 

But he was Hyukjae. 

Just not the boy he saw moments ago. Not the skinny dancer with the raven hair. Not the Hyukjae who had glared contemptuously. Not the boy that had scowled at him, insulted him, pushed him away. Not the man that hated him.

No, this Hyukjae was looking down at him, only clad in a pair of lose sweatpants, with worried eyes, practically cradling his face. This Hyukjae was older, small wrinkles forming next to his beautiful doe-like eyes. Gone was the lanky thin frame, now taunt muscles that was fueled after years of military service took its place. The raven hair was no more too, replaced by a short cropped purple burgundy mop of hair that was tussled by sleep.

“Donghae? Please speak to me! What’s wrong?!”

Maybe it was the pure concern in the other’s orbs that did it, but he soon found himself clinging onto Hyukjae, wrapping his arms around the other’s neck, buring his head against the other’s bare chest, letting out another broken wail.

“Hae?!”

Hyukjae sounded close to tears himself but he somehow managed to sit on the bed, gathering sobbing Donghae into his arms, at the same time reaching for his phone and frantically calling a number that’s been saved on his speed dial. Donghae who was almost hysterically clawing at the other’s shoulders in order to get closer faintly heard Hyukjae calling Leeteuk. He tried his best to compose himself but everytime he closed his eyes, he kept seeing that abhorrent scowl and vicious glare that graced the beautiful face of the man he loved. 

The purple haired man, who had ended the desperate call for help, tossed his phone onto the bed, wrapping his arms tightly around the quivering form of the sobbing man, rocking him gently while running his fingers gently through Donghae’s locks.

“Baby, it’s alright. I got you. You’re safe.” Hyukjae murmured into the other’s ear as the heart wrenching weeping quietened down into soft sniffles.

Donghae pressed his cheek firmly to the other’s chest, letting Hyukjae’s steady heartbeat lull him into a peaceful state of awareness. Somewhere along the way, he realized that he was probably crushing the other man, his entire body weight supported by Hyukjae but he just couldn’t bring himself to get rid of the warm cocoon of a embrace he was enveloped in. Besides, Hyukjae showed no signs of letting go either, occasionally pressing kisses to his messy blonde tuft of hair- he was a blonde now, Donghae realized, not a brunette.

“I’m sorry Hyuk... I’m ok... I’m ok...” Donghae breathed out after a few moments, pulling away from the other.

A beautiful yet worried pair of single lidded doe-like eyes gazed at him with concern. 

“What happened Hae? You woke up shaking and crying and I didn’t know what to even do.” Hyukjae asked gently,pressing a kiss to the blonde’s forehead. “You looked so scared and devastated... I...”

Donghae leaned his forehead against the other’s, exhaling shakily, screwing his eyes shut. 

“Sorry... Hyukkie...” He whimpered out. “Bad dream...It was just a bad dream.”

Admitting it out loud bought an overwhelming sense of relief towards. Yes, it was just a nightmare. None of it had been real.

“Oh you poor thing.” Hyukjae exclaimed softly, tightening his grip on the blonde who frankly looked exhausted after his outburst. “Don’t apologize baby. It’s ok... I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

The purple haired man let Donghae tuck his head under the crook of his neck, his locks of hair gently.

“Sorry hyukkie, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The blonde mumbled, his voice slightly muffled. “It just seemed so real... and I was so scared and...”

The purple haired dancer placed a loving kiss on the other’s forehead, almost as if he was placating the distressed man.

“What did you dream about? I’ve never seen you look so terrified...” Hyukjae wondered aloud.

“Something really stupid...” Donghae sniffled, nuzzling his nose against the dancer’s neck. 

“Can I know what it was?” Hyukjae asked, pulling back for a second to peer into the other’s orbs, frowning as the other immediately dropped his gaze, looking down at his lap. “ I swear I won’t laugh at you, even if it’s something really stupid...you know I won’t... not when it affected you this much...”

The blonde nervously nibbled on his lower lip, his expression clearly conflicted. The dancer let out a small sigh, giving him a peck on the cheek before gently ruffling the other’s hair.

“It’s fine, Hae. Don’t force yourself to speak.” Hyukjae said, looking slightly apologetic. “Let’s just go back to bed.”

“You hated me.”

The purple haired man who was just about to switch off the lights stopped dead on his tracks as a barely audible whisper left the younger.

“What?”

“I dreamt that you hated me.” Donghae repeated, his voice breaking pitifully. “Everyone did.”

Hyukjae gathered the blonde into his arms in an instant, wrapping them securely around his waist, practically pulling the other onto his lap.

“Oh Hae...it was just a dream, none of it was real... No one hates you, you know that right baby?” He murmured into the other’s ear.

The blonde nodded timidly, one glance at the mesmerizing single-lidded orbs making him spill out the horrific events of his nightmare. His voice started to quiver and break as he continued on with his tale, Hyukjae’s beautiful face becoming more and more ashen as time passed by. 

“Donghae...none of that ever happened... I mean it did- but not in the way you dreamt...” The dancer exclaimed, his fists clenching the sheets in frustration as he tried to speak coherently. “You remember what actually happened right? Even though it was years ago...”

“I know. It just felt so vivid... and so real...” The blonde murmured, his head hanging in shame. “It almost feels like a memory even though I know it’s not...”

“Look it didn’t happen. I can prove it to you!” Hyukjae abruptly announced getting up from the bed.

A hand shot out to grab his wrist, stilling him in place as he peered into the vulnerable orbs of the fragile man on the bed.

“Please...don’t leave me...” Donghae whimpered.

“Never.” Hyukjae smiled, leaning down to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth before walking over to a chest of drawers.

He rummaged through its contents, the blonde’s eyes never leaving his figure as though he was afraid that Hyukjae would disappear if he looked away. Finally finding what he was looking for, he walked back to the man on the bed, handing him a piece of paper before sitting down on the mattress.

“See...I still have it. And I certainly didn’t rip it apart.” Hyukjae said his chest puffing out almost proudly.

Donghae looked down at the piece of paper blankly. His own barely legible handwriting from ten years ago stare