“I’m not going to apologize.”

Hankyung's not surprised by Heechul's words. He would’ve known even if the older never spoke, because apologies are rare for Kim Heechul. Kim HeeChul is a man who doesn’t live with regrets, he is a man who says and does what he wanted and lives with the consequences.

“I know. Than-”

“Don’t you dare thank me either.”

By now, HeeChul has already removed himself from the frame of the door to plop down on the black (undeniably fake) leather couch beside Hankyung. As the two of them sit in the dressing room side by side, heated arguments and muffled yelling resonate from the halls, reminding them of what had just happened on stage.

Hankyung sighs, knowing that both he and Heechul will definitely be scolded. He looks down at the mask in his hands, shiny and silver with holes cut out where the eyes are. Just moments ago, he was looking through the same holes, trying so hard to hide his identity as it did for months.  For a long time, this mask was Hankyung…but today was different.

Today, he is holding the mask that HeeChul spontaneously ripped off his face, a mask that kissed the ground as the crowd gasped, surprised to see the unfamiliar and stunned face that was hidden behind it the whole time.

Even if it only lasted for seconds, Hankyung felt the glory of performing on stage. He got a taste of the freedom and pride the other members felt when their years of hard work paid off in mere minutes before their fans. The pre-recording would never be aired, that was for sure, but for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel so neglected. He wasn't mistaken as a background dancer, he was actually someone important during those few seconds. For this alone, Hankyung knows he would be forever grateful to HeeChul, the one who was brave enough to expose him and held him tightly to keep him under the spotlight. Thank you so much. Hankyung only wishes he knew enough of the Korean language to express it enough. Heechul had taken a risk for him. A big risk, because the entire idol group, and his own dreams were on the line out there.

“Won’t you get into a lot of trouble? You know you didn’t have to do that for me, I’ve gotten used to it now, my visa problems and all.” He had to repeat the last part of his sentence twice to get the pronunciation right.

“I’ll be okay.” HeeChul scoffs as he takes the cold, plastic mask from his grasp.

Looking at the damn thing makes him angry the same way it made his blood boil for months. “Some people live their whole lives behind lies and pretend.” He speaks slowly, hoping Hankyung would understand his every word.

“But you…Hankyung, you should never have to.”

Heechul was never going to apologize for showing Hankyung to the world, and the world to Hankyung.

The foreigner of Super Junior doesn’t catch all of it but nods anyway. Korean is hard to understand, but somehow with Kim HeeChul, it’s clearer than crystal, as it’s always been. He gently pats HeeChul’s knee, a way of showing his gratitude, and watches with a smile as the silver mask flies across the room.

He’s afraid of what may happen to the two of them but at least for now, he can rely on Heechul, this man who lives with no regrets.

***

It’s the days that Hankyung comes back with packs of beer in handfuls that tells HeeChul he is missing his home in China. It is a Saturday night this time and all the other members went out for dinner half an hour ago while Heechul would rather stay back, away from people in general.

Hankyung pushes the door behind him shut with his knee and HeeChul wonders how he opened the door so silently in the first place.

“What are you doing?” is the first thing Hankyung says after taking off his shoes, the beers still weighing down his arms.

“Nothing. You’re gonna share some of that, right?”

Neither of them needed to ask the questions they asked. No matter how busy he is, Heechul would always say “nothing”, not letting the other ever drink alone. On the other hand, it is exactly the same with Hankyung whenever Heechul was the one to come through the door looking to get drunk. They’ve spent countless nights before drowning themselves in alcohol, and soaking up each other’s sorrow. It’s become something simple they only shared with each other.

Tonight is no different. Hankyung just sits down on the chair across from Heechul, dropping cans of beer on the table’s surface, making sure it the tin made a loud “pop” sound when he opened it. Two beer cans clang together before they are kissed by two pairs of lips.

In less than a few hours, there are over a dozen empty cans scattered around the small table. Neither of them says anything, both drinking as much as they can to encourage the other. The only sounds that can be heard are the gulps and sloshing, mixed in occasionally with shameless burps and a few of Hankyung’s sniffles. Heechul knows he’s crying, but ignores his puffy eyes and pretends not to notice, partly to spare him some pride and partly because he doesn’t know if his words would change anything. Hankyung is far from home, far from the country that cradled him in his youth, forever tied to his heart. It must take a lot of strength, Heechul thinks, to still be able to stay here away from it all.

What does it feel like to live with people who don’t understand you? Would it be suffocating to not be able to tell people how you’re feeling? Is Hankyung suffocating? Sometimes Heechul forgets that Hankyung is a foreigner.

Drinking together is special. Without speaking, without looking at each other, without touching, two completely opposite souls fit together in the silence, searching for the same –or sometimes different –things. They are the most comfortable like this, and Hankyung swears that at times like these, Korea feels just a little like home. There are no exhausting attempts to fit in, no such thing as a language barrier, no awkwardness, just Heechul.

“Hankyung”

Heechul doesn’t know if it was the alcohol or the man across from him that makes him so intoxicated (maybe it was both), but that name is the only thing he says before he leans over the mess on the table and feels a pair of lips press against his own.

Mixed with the slight dizziness, and the pungent smell, they let the insanity wash over them and leave their troubles behind for the moment. The night doesn’t feel long as they bask in each other’s presence.

Heechul wishes that nights like these, where the world beyond these four walls disappeared, would never come to an end.

The next few years remind him that they do.

***

“Hey, I got you flowers”

Heechul looks up to see Hankyung walking through the door with a bouquet of lillies, painted in a colour that perfectly mirrored the white walls of the hospital room.

“Yah, why are you here again?”

Hankyung raises one brow and smiles to himself, finding humor in Heechul’s insincere annoyance. The chair screeches against the floor as Hankyung pulls it beside Heechul’s bed and sits down next to him, placing the flowers down beside the pile of comic books on the bedside table.

“I have no schedule today. Should I leave?”

“…No, don’t do that.”

Heechul takes a hand out from under the covers as an invitation for Hankyung to hold it, one Hankyung takes without thought.

“How are you feeling?” He frowns while eyeing the obnoxious cast around Heechul’s leg. It is difficult to take in the picture of Heechul lying on the bed weakly front of him, let alone the image of his delicate body being thrown across the car by the force of the collision. He looks away before his mind draws something he doesn’t want to see. Hankyung wonders why, of all people, it had to be Heechul.

 “Heh, I feel like .” His voice is dry and Hankyung has a feeling that that indecent word will soon be in his vocabulary too.

Heechul wasn’t lying, the pain in his leg is torture, although Hankyung’s stay is a good distraction. Heechul lets his eyelids close, trying to focus on the feeling of Hankyung’s touch, his thumbs rubbing the back of his hand and running over his knuckles.

Hankyung’s hands are masculine and large. They were firm at times when Heechul felt like his own limbs would turn blue trapped within his hold, and yet sometimes –like right now for instance–Hankyung’s fingers were nothing but fluid and kind. Unintentionally, Heechul loses himself to Hankyung’s comfortable touch…almost falling into unconsciousness under his soothing fingertips.

Sometimes Heechul thinks Hankyung must have the gentlest hands in the world. When he is willing to give it, they channel his very soul and everything else is stripped to nothing except the genuine kindness that is Hankyung. He could feel it….I care about you, I’ve missed you, I ‘m proud of you…There is more truth in his touch than anything a fluent Korean could convince.

“When I get the hell out of here next week, I wanna eat white chocolate. Lots of it.”

“I’m guessing I’ll be the one forced to buy them then?” He laughs, but doesn’t complain. “Stop thinking about sweets, get some rest. I’ll be here.”

I’ll be here. The words don’t seem to mean very much at the time. Keeping his eyes shut, the corners of Heechul’s mouth curl up with little effort. Maybe it isn’t just his hands, he thinks. Hankyung’s voice is calming as well, a quiet lullaby sung in an attractive accent that makes you beg to hear more of it as Hankyung erases everything else, the pain of reality left completely forgotten.

Before he falls into slumber Heechul swears to forever remember this feeling, not the feeling of forgetting, but the fingers drawing trails on his skin as they brush hair away from his forehead, warm palms pressing against his cheeks, and gentle hands that locked perfectly with his own. He tries to etch everything into his memory, not knowing that one day they would become all he had left to look back on.

 Oh, then how desperately he would wish to forget.

***

“Hey, thanks” Heechul suddenly says one night when the two of them are drinking alone. They are both in a good mood this time around.

“For what?” Hankyung really doesn’t recall doing anything special for him lately, and the awkwardness in Heechul’s voice now is proof that “thanks” is not something he says often.

“Well, I heard you mention me a lot in China. Because of you I’m popular there even though I don’t go very often hahaha…”  He gives a fake laugh out of embarrassment, and he feels almost out of character, wondering when he became like this.

There is a pause as Heechul waits for Hankyung to respond.

“…Shut up and drink.”

Heechul couldn’t help but smile. So, all this time in China Hankyung was thinking about him? He’s glad to know that he wasn’t the only one with the other constantly on his thoughts during the times when they were separated.

“Yah, Hankyung.”

“What now?”

“I’m hungry. Make me Beijing fried rice.” It almost sounded like a demand, had Heechul not said it so adorably.

“At this hour? Really, aren’t you worried about getting fat?”

Not surprisingly, Hankyung gets up anyway and heads to the kitchen. No matter how much Hankyung protests, he couldn’t find it in himself to turn down anything the older asks. Heechul on the other hand, just remains in his seat, thoughtfully watching Hankyung with his back towards him, arms extending back and forth along with the sounds of the sizzling pan. After minutes of staring, he decides to get up and join him in the kitchen. With his eyes on Hankyung’s profile, Heechul leans against the sink, feeling a little guilty because he wasn’t actually hungry.

“You’re totally in love with me, aren’t you?” He asks playfully, not really expecting an answer. A teasing smile was plastered on his feminine face.

Hankyung abruptly stops what he was doing, the question shocking him for a few seconds and he takes a little too long to realize the smell of fried rice starting to resemble smoke.

“Just…” He starts after frantically turning the stove knob full circle. “…Just shut up if you want to eat.”

Sarang. It is a rare word to come out of Heechul’s mouth. Between the two of them, it was never said. It couldn’t be said. The world is too cruel, and under its influence they can only be who they need to be and not who they really are, trapped in a paradox where they have to be together, as Hanchul, but will never be allowed to really be together, as men. They are convinced they couldn’t possibly feel that way anyhow. But there are times when Heechul’s face brightens up whenever Hankyung’s name is mentioned, when Hankyung finds himself crying upon seeing Heechul perform on stage for the first time after his accident, when they laugh and cry in their drunken states together, or when Hankyung cooks Beijing fried rice at midnight because Heechul had asked for it, that reminded them it was always there.

Sarang.