It is finally the weekend.

Donghae is sitting on a hard plastic chair wedged between different monitors and quietly beeping machines. It is so good to see Henry again. Bandaged, bruised and pale, but alive. He’s smiling brightly with cracked lips behind the oxygen mask, telling Donghae about the apple puree he was allowed to eat that morning, then asking about work

‘Everything’s fine,’ Donghae says, smiling and nodding and trying his very best not to get emotional. Henry doesn’t know that Donghae has been stood down. He doesn’t know that everyone else is overworked or that Shindong ought to have just fired Donghae, but hasn’t.

And Henry definitely doesn’t know that Donghae cried and admitted to their boss that he’s attracted to men as well as women.

Before arriving, Donghae had thought about telling Henry about Hyukjae, about his one-sided crush and the frappuccinos, motorbike rides and pizzas.

But now he’s here in the serious, quiet ward, it seems inappropriate.

It had been hard, just walking into the hospital.

He wasn’t sure how Henry would react to seeing him.

Would he blame Donghae? Would he be angry? How could Donghae ever express to him how sorry he was for letting the younger man drive, for encouraging him to show off?

As it turned out, Henry had been just as anxious, wanting to see for himself that Donghae was unharmed. Donghae can’t hug him, not with all the machines and wires, but he holds the younger man’s hand between both of his and reassures him, saying whatever he needs to so that Henry can feel at ease. Henry is still quite heavily drugged, and he doesn’t ask many questions.

At the moment it is just enough that they have both survived.

Shindong had come along too, aware of Donghae’s fragile emotional state. Once he’d seen the two of them were doing okay though, he’d gone to find himself a coffee and a muffin. Donghae almost wishes his jovial manager had stayed with them, because in the quiet, serious atmosphere of the high dependency ward, his mind has gone blank. He can’t think of anything to say that isn’t too serious or too flippant.

‘Hyung,’ Henry says. ‘Do you think you can get me another juice?’

Donghae rushes to get one from the nearby trolley, punching the straw in and spilling bright orange droplets everywhere in his eagerness to be of some help. Henry doesn’t seem to mind but he’s getting tired already, moving his mask aside so he can sip at his juice box. He coughs.

‘Oh,’ Donghae says, alarmed. ‘Can I get you anything? Do you need the nurse?’

Henry shakes his head with a little smile. His right arm is in plaster and he’s a bit clumsy with his left, but he’s managing.

‘It’s okay,’ he says. ‘Hyung, there is one thing though. I was meant to go to a concert next weekend, got tickets and everything.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Donghae says, feeling awful.

‘I’d like you to have them,’ Henry says. ‘Have a good time, tell me all about it?’

‘Uh,’ Donghae says, taken aback. ‘I’m not sure I’d be comfortable with that, Henry. Not while you’re stuck in here.’

‘Please,’ Henry says, and he’s one of the only people with more irresistible puppy-eyes than Donghae himself. ‘There’s two tickets, so you can take a date. It was meant to be me and Amber but she doesn’t want to go now.’

‘Uh,’ Donghae says again, and he doesn’t know how to refuse.

‘Shindong already got them from my place,’ Henry says, wincing as he points out the white envelope amongst the bits and pieces on the bedside table. ‘There, in the white envelope.’

Donghae picks it up, wondering how much of his small wages Henry had spent on the tickets. He is going to argue that maybe they can be sold so Henry can at least get some money back, but the nurse appears then, waiting to one side with a tray of fresh bandages.

‘Enjoy yourself,’ Henry says, his weary smile a ghost of what it used to be. ‘And get me a t-shirt?’

‘I will.’ Donghae squeezes the young man’s hand one more time and then turns to wave at the door. Henry gives him a thumbs up, looking so small and fragile and unlike himself that Donghae almost tears up. Then a curtain is drawn between them and Donghae finds himself back out in the wide disinfectant-scented corridor.

Shindong is sitting in the waiting area, half-finished coffee in hand.

‘Everything go okay?’

‘Yeah,’ Donghae says. ‘H-he gave me his concert tickets.’

Shindong claps him on the shoulder.

‘Good,’ he says. ‘C’mon, I’ll drop you home.’

The car ride back is quiet. Donghae holds the white envelope and wonders he should take to the concert. He has a whole week to find someone, after all. A friend or workmate? They could relax and have a good time, grab a few beers first, sneak some photos of the show for Henry.

But Donghae… doesn’t want to take a friend or workmate.

It might mean the opposite of relaxing and having a good time, but there’s only one person Donghae really wants to invite.

Hyukjae.

Sweet, aloof, pretty Hyukjae who still frowns at him every day.

Donghae has continued to take the other man his daily strawberry frappuccino all week, but since realizing he likes the other man, things have become awkward.

Well, Donghae has become awkward.

He feels shy, suddenly and for no reason when they’re together. He can’t think of anything to say.

He finds himself spending a long time in front of the mirror before meeting Hyukjae, trying to get his hair just right.

He has even ing dreamed about Hyukjae more than once, has woken panting and guilty, mind filled with images of a slim waist, broad shoulders, soft lips.

What’s worse is that Hyukjae has noticed his awkward behavior too.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ he’d asked, checking his strawberry drink and blinking suspiciously as Donghae stammered through some totally inane small talk.

Donghae has never felt less cool or desirable.

It’s not his fault though - he’s never had to try and get someone’s attention before, so he doesn’t know what to do. It’s always been so easy; going to a club, chatting up someone pretty, exchanging numbers and perhaps, later in the night, intimacies.

He hasn’t asked Hyukjae for his number.

Hyukjae will definitely say no, and then Donghae will feel crushed, and it will become even harder to make conversation.

He will probably say no to going to a concert too, but Donghae has a whole week to work out how to ask him.

What should he wear to the concert, if Hyukjae says yes?

, what should he wear to ask him?

What does Hyukjae like?

Donghae doesn’t have any idea. All he does have is his leather jacket and a lot of pairs of black jeans.

‘Actually,’ he says to Shindong, ‘Do you mind dropping me at the mall instead? I might do some shopping.’

Shindong glances at his watch.

‘Sure,’ he says. ‘But will you have enough time?’

Donghae is confused.

‘Enough time for what?’

‘To get to the concert,’ Shindong says. ‘Don’t you dare miss it, Henry will be heartbroken.’

‘It’s next weekend.’

‘It’s not,’ Shindong says. ‘It’s tonight.’

‘Henry said it’s next weekend!’

‘Henry’s been in a coma, he doesn’t even know what day of the week it is,’ Shindong says,