eleven
100 Strawberry Frappuccinos
Of all the people to turn up on his doorstep, Hyukjae is the last person Donghae would have expected. For a moment he doesn’t know whether to go after Siwon or to stay with his unexpected guest, but the look on Hyukjae’s face decides him. He looks like he’s seen a ghost.
‘Hyukjae?’
Hyukjae turns to him, eyes round with shock.
‘I-I didn’t think he- f--’
‘Hey- it’s okay,’ Donghae says, and he finds himself automatically reaching for Hyukjae to comfort him. The other man looks moments from panic though, so Donghae manages to turn the intended hug into a sort of awkward friendly pat. Hyukjae hardly even seems aware of Donghae’s gentle touch.
‘Do you want to come in?’
‘I-’ Hyukjae bites his lip, and his eyes are becoming wet. He takes a tiny step after Siwon, then three bigger ones backwards. ‘I don’t- uh- is there another way I can l-leave?’
Donghae shakes his head. The only exit is the same way Siwon went unless Hyukjae wants to continue all the way to the top of the building and then down the rusty and unsafe-looking fire escape.
‘T-Then maybe I’ll come in for a few minutes,’ Hyukjae says, with an unsteady breath. Donghae unlocks the door and lets them in, then stands uselessly as Hyukjae covers his face with his hands before trying to smile, a wobbly, unconvincing effort to show that he’s fine. His usual irritated demeanor is gone and he looks shaky.
Devastated.
Vulnerable, and completely unlike himself.
Donghae hates it.
‘Hyukjae, is there anything I can do?’
Hyukjae shakes his head with another weak, ghostly smile, and Donghae-
Donghae has so many ing questions.
It’s clear now, without a doubt, that Siwon and Hyukjae know each other.
Why would Siwon lie about something like that? Donghae wants to ask, but the last time he’d mentioned the other man’s name, Hyukjae had looked like he was going to cry. Right now he looks on the verge of tears already, standing awkwardly in the entrance area in his puffy coat and scarf.
‘Hyukjae,’ Donghae tries again. ‘Do you want to come in a bit more and sit down?’
Hyukjae blinks, and comes in a little further. Donghae leads him to the table where he seemed most comfortable sitting last time.
‘I’ll get you something to drink,’ he says, hurrying to boil the kettle. Hyukjae just sits there, staring at the tabletop, hands twisting anxiously. Donghae makes him a hot, strong coffee, adding two sugars since he already knows the other man has a sweet tooth.
He places it in front of him, and Hyukjae picks it up and sips it automatically. He grimaces.
‘I hate coffee,’ he says faintly. He takes another sip. Donghae sits down at the table with his own drink.
‘Hyukjae,’ he says hesitantly. ‘Can I ask- what’s going on?’
‘I thought he’d left Seoul,’ Hyukjae says, staring down into his coffee. ‘I- I thought he’d moved overseas.’
‘Not yet,’ Donghae says. ‘In another week or so, I think? But Hyukjae, what’s wrong? How do you know each other?’
Hyukjae presses his lips together and shakes his head, eyes even redder. It’s clear he doesn’t want to say anything more. Donghae drinks his own coffee and they sit in silence until Donghae thinks of something else.
‘Did you come to visit me?’
The smallest hint of the irritable expression Donghae knows so well comes back to Hyukjae’s face. Donghae feels a rush of relief.
‘No,’ Hyukjae says, pushing the large bag he’d been carrying towards Donghae. ‘I came to return these.’
Donghae peers into it curiously. ‘What’s this?’
The bag contains a rather battered bouquet of flowers, a bottle of wine and some deflated balloons. Donghae realizes with a pang that is it the thank you presents that he had sent Hyukjae at work.
‘You did it on purpose, didn’t you?’ Hyukjae says, although his grumpy attitude seems half-hearted. ‘You embarrassed me in front of the whole office. Why did you write that in the card?’
Donghae opens the card and looks at it, confused.
‘But I really meant it,’ he says, crestfallen. ‘You were so nice that night.’
‘You didn’t have to phrase it so ambiguously,’ Hyukjae snaps. ‘Now the whole office thinks we’re ing!’
Donghae lifts out the rejected teddy bear and sets it mournfully on the table beside the flowers and the deflated balloons.
‘There was meant to be a cake too.’
Hyukjae’s cheeks get just a tiny bit of colour back in them.
‘Yeah well,’ he mutters. ‘My- um, my coworkers ate that. Did you hear me though, Donghae? Everyone, including my roommate, thinks that we’re- uh- dating. Doesn’t that worry you?’
‘If we were dating, maybe you’d yell at me less,’ Donghae says sulkily, because he really is quite hurt that the gifts have been returned. ‘I thought you’d like them, and I wanted to thank you. You didn’t have to deal with me being a ing mess, but you did.’
Hyukjae gives a little humourless laugh.
‘I guess that makes two of us.’
Donghae puts the flowers in water and while he’s busy, Hyukjae gets to his feet.
‘I should get going,’ he says.
He still looks tense and anxious, despite his efforts to appear normal. Donghae wipes his wet hands on a tea towel and goes to grab his jacket.
‘Wait a minute,’ he says. ‘I’ll take you home.’
It reveals how shaken Hyukjae is that he doesn’t really argue.
Not until they get downstairs to the shed where Donghae keeps his motorbike, anyway. Donghae hands Hyukjae his spare helmet, and Hyukjae, who had been peering anxiously down the road, realizes what he’s holding.
‘Oh hell no,’ he says.
Donghae wheels his bike out and puts his own helmet on, easily swinging astride and moving forward a little so there’s room for Hyukjae. He pats the seat behind him.
‘C’mon,’ he says. ‘At this time of day it’s faster than the subway.’
‘No,’ Hyukjae says. Donghae leans over to help him slip the helmet on, giving it a little tug to check it’s a good fit.
‘When I’ve had a day, I like to get out on my bike,’ he says. ‘Careful with your scarf. Here, loop it up a bit more so it won’t get tangled.’
‘I’m not going on your bike!’ Hyukjae says, muffled through the helmet. Donghae turns the engine over, a throaty rumble in the cold dusk of t
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