Title: In Quietness (There is Only You)
Author/Artist: [REDACTED]
Your Giftee: Dalankar
Rating: PG-13 I think?
Wordcounts: 4368 words
Warnings (if applicable): none
Author/Artist’s note: this is unfortunately not a high-school!AU, but I still hope you enjoyed it as much it’s kind of just fluffy and honestly pointless, and I’m sorry because it definitely isn’t my best one-shot… Anyways, I wish you a Merry Christmas and I hope to hear from you very soon!

– In Quietness (There is Only You) –

One-shot for Dalankar

Storyline by [REDACTED]

Heaving a relieved sigh, Hyukjae steps inside the quiet dorms and closes the door behind him, large snowflakes idly melting in his messy hair as the tip of his fingers go numb from a harsh December-coldness. His limbs feel heavy and too stiff by his sides, as if made of humid concrete, while his skin still prickle uncomfortably; but he doesn’t seem to care about it as much as he probably should, and halfheartedly bounces on his feet to warm up a little. He shivers absently, tired and yawning, then throws his keys somewhere on a nearby chest of drawers and reluctantly takes his fluffy coat off. After neatly hanging it onto the rail – he doesn’t miss to throw a narrow-eyed look at the messy pile of clothes the other members haphazardly threw around the entrance –, he quietly heads further inside while distractedly wondering whether there is still milk in the fridge.

As he is about to move towards the kitchen corner – which is clean, he is pleased to note –, he almost steps on a furry something that suspiciously looks like Heechul’s property, which spits and meows and glares. Hyukjae raises an eyebrow at the horrible little grey thing – he probably is being unfair, but it’s already late and he needs to rest – and sniffs contemptuously. Then, making sure its owner is nowhere in sight – he still values his life, after all –, he kicks at it and watches it promptly scramble away hissing with childish satisfaction.

“That’s not very nice,” a low, familiar voice comments then, prompting shivers to roll down his spine; except he knows it has nothing to do with the cold this time.

Looking up, he isn’t surprised to find Donghae standing by the door of his room, managing to look both amused and a little disapproving. He is wearing an oversized grey sweater that obviously once used to be Shindong’s, eyes deliciously appealing and hair almost as disheveled as his own. Except he looks way much better. Way much handsomer.

He always has.

Self-consciously running a hand through his damp locks, Hyukjae smiles faintly at him but knows it’s more than enough, and craves to reach out and touch.

“Hi,” he utters softly instead, fingers minutely clenching around nothing. “What’s up?”

His best friend – and who he sometimes fiercely wishes to be more than just that – shrugs and makes his way towards him. He looks beautiful, with his tight-lipped grin and his tanned skin glowing from the countless Christmas city lights outside, and he suspects he knows it all too well.

“Nothing much; the hyungs are out to buy dinner for Christmas tomorrow.” Pausing, he amends, “Hopefully.”

Humming, Hyukjae goes in the kitchen without bothering to turn the lights on – those outside seem to be much prettier tonight –, and neither does Donghae; he follows him curiously, pulling the hood of his self-claimed sweater over the top of his head.

A knowing grin on his plump lips, he asks, “Cold?”

“A bit.”

“Hot chocolate?” he offers as he opens the fridge; the white light is harsh and prompts him to blink uncomfortably, though Donghae’s skin seems to glow even more. “There’s enough milk for two,” he adds.

“Yes, please! With marshmallows!” the other pouts eagerly, as he always does when he wants something.

His bright, pleading chocolate orbs suddenly make Hyukjae feel so stupidly happy to spend some time alone with him that he shudders briefly, and has to turn around for a bit. He nibbles on his lower lip, thoughtful and a little lost as he proceeds to heat up the milk in a saucepan. Donghae gives him a curious look but doesn’t prod, quite surprisingly, sticking close to him instead.

It feels warm; warmer than the milk.

“What have you been up to lately?” his friend utters lightly afterwards, casually leaning a hip against the counter. He picks up a red apple, then puts it back down a second later. “I didn’t see you much.”

“You saw me yesterday morning, Donghae.”

A cute nose scrunches up moodily. “It’s an expression; there’s no need to take everything so seriously, you know?”

Hyukjae shakes his head in mock-exasperation, unable to hide his amusement. “You’re stupid,” he states with a scoff – though not an unkind one.

“You’re stupider,” the other retorts promptly.

“You’re stupiderer.”

Only a fraction of second goes by, before Donghae laughs loudly and hits his shoulder. Hard. “That’s not a word, Hyukjae!”

The bright sounds fill the quiet dorms and seem to lighten up the whole place, such as happy carols that pleasantly warm his chilly body up. Fiddling with the saucepan, the older smirks smugly – only he knows how to make him laugh as prettily as he does now. “I’m sure it is somewhere,” he declares solemnly, earning other loud fits of laughter. “Hand me two mugs, Hae.”

Turning the stove off, he accepts the large cups when they are handed over to him and evenly pours the hot milk into them. Donghae happily helps to add cocoa powder and marshmallows, although he knows Hyukjae doesn’t really like them – but it’s okay, because they both know he isn’t the one who will eat them anyways.

*

When their hot chocolate are ready and yummy, Donghae asks if they can turn the couch around and watch the snowfall while drinking their cocoa milk. Skeptical, Hyukjae eyes the living-room with a frown; the sofa is pushed back against the wall right under the large window, which means he’ll need to move it completely as he’s about one hundred percent sure his friend won’t be of much use, if not at all.

“The hyungs will scold us if we do that again,” he points out.

He still agrees to do it anyways because he is beyond whipped, and they both know it. Plus, it’s Christmas!, cheerfully adds Donghae as if it’s enough of a good reason. It probably isn’t, though; Hyukjae wouldn’t be surprised if Jungsu yells at them – him for what they are about to do with his precious couch.

The furniture is unreasonably heavy when he pulls and pushes and moves it around the drawing-room until it’s facing the window just the way his best friend thinks it’s the most perfect. As soon as he is given a satisfied hum, the two boys – men? – unceremoniously flop down on it and playfully fight for the duvets although there’s enough space for the both of them. They quickly hide underneath after Hyukjae finally takes mercy and stop tickling Donghae, chuckling when the latter looks ready to faint from breathlessness and loud laughter.

He looks a bit funny, eyes crossed and a bit of drool staining the corner of his mouth, though Hyukjae can’t help but wonder if he has ever looked as beautiful before.

But then again, he’s so whipped.

*

Sighing contently, Donghae carefully curls his fingers around the burning ceramic of his cup. He takes a small sip and shivers a little at the sweet taste, a warm chocolate-flavored whiff idly reaching his nostrils. “You’re always so good at making these,” he mumbles thoughtfully. “Can’t you teach me?”

Hyukjae shifts a little next to him and takes a long gulp of his own, then snorts softly. “No,” he flatly retorts, prompting him to elbow his ribs. “I can’t trust you with a stove at all.”

“I baked before!” the younger huffs indignantly. “Alone!”

“That was in an oven, genius. And there was a bunch of directors and cameramen and whatnot with you; that doesn’t count.”

Sullen, Donghae sulks; he guesses from Hyukjae’s amused smile that he didn’t expect any less from him.

*

Donghae watches the snow listlessly drift down onto the city at the other side of the window, humming thoughtfully. “Hey, Hyuk?”

“What?” his best friend looks at him.

“What’s your new resolutions for 2015?”

Raising a doubtful eyebrow, Hyukjae frowns at him. “That’s supposed to be for the New Year, Donghae.”

“…yeah, I knew that.”

“Sure you did.”

*

“Our contract is ending next year, though,” Donghae utters then.

Hyukjae tenses and reluctantly snuggles into the duvets they’re sharing, suddenly feeling cold despite his best friend sitting so close. “It is,” he says.

A pause falls between them as they drink their hot chocolate, both pensive and a bit anxious. It seems to be getting colder and colder in the dorms, which prompts the single-lidded man to shuffle closer to Donghae.

“Are we going to renew it, do you think?” the latter hesitantly wonders afterwards as he steals him a furtive glance. “Jungsu hyung and Heechul hyung and Youngwoon hyung, and all the others? And us, too?”

Shrugging helplessly, Hyukjae flinches at the painfully clear fear he finds glowing within chocolate orbs. He wants to say words; to form them on the tip of his tongue and bravely speak them up. To comfort him and hug him as tight as he can. But it’s hard – harder than it should because nothing is sure, and they all know it.

And so Hyukjae stays quiet. He leans closer instead, their shoulders gently touching.

Hesitating, he finally asks, “What would you do if we don’t?”

*

I’d try to keep you with me, Donghae thinks easily, and he almost surprises himself for it.

“I don’t know,” he says instead, maybe a bit too quickly. He adverts his eyes away and presses his lips into an embarrassed line. “You?”

*

Hyukjae frowns at him. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Don’t play dumb,” he laughs. “You’re blushing, Hae.”

“I’m not blushing, you idiot!” the latter’s cheeks redden even more and he hastily looks away, ducking his head down until his brown locks fall over his face. “I’m really not. And anyways, I – stop laughing! It’s not funny! Hyukjae!”

*

It used to be quiet and peaceful in the dorms, until Hyukjae’s amused chuckles fill up the whole place so loudly his best friend becomes nothing but a mess of embarrassed whines. He hits and glares and shouts, vainly trying to make him stop.

“Stop it,” he complains and punches his shoulder. “You’re being mean, Hyuk! Stop laughing! I wasn’t blushing, I swear I wasn’t!”

It only makes him laugh louder, absolutely loving the way his skin starts to get colored into a lovely pink. He is about to some more – maybe point out that denying that hard only makes him look even more suspicious –, when Donghae suddenly presses his face into his shoulder, still whining loudly.

Tensing in surprise, Hyukjae promptly quietens. He looks down and distractedly realizes that he’s starting to blush himself; strong arms are wrapped around him, clutching accusingly onto his jumper, while soft brown locks tickle the skin of his exposed neck. A soft smile spreads upon his plump lips, and he lightly pats the top of his head.

Donghae shifts against him and rests the side of his face on his shoulder, sending him a scowl that tries and fails to look menacing – it’s rather adorable, and Hyukjae can’t help but lean down and bump their forehead together.

“I guess you really weren’t blushing, then,” he says amusedly when he earns a painful grunt.

“It’s good you finally admit it.”

*

“What do you want for Christmas this year, by the way?” Hyukjae asks a while later as his friend is about to drift asleep on his shoulder. “It’s tomorrow, after all. You still haven’t told me what you’d like.”

Donghae shifts against him, but refuses to open his eyes at all. “Hmm?”

“Christmas,” he repeats a little louder. “What do you want?”

“Hmm?”

Rolling his eyes, the single-lidded man promptly pinches his fleshy thigh and earns an affronted yelp in return. “I said,” he says in a conflicted mixture of amusement and mild exasperation. “What do you want for Christmas, you airhead.”

“Well, just ask it this way then!” Donghae huffs indignantly at him. “There’s no need to be violent or rude, really!”

Sighing wearily, Hyukjae pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just answer the damn question, Hae. You’re giving me a headache.”

The latter gives him a small glare and petulantly steals his mug, ignoring his halfhearted protests. He pouts thoughtfully and takes a small sip of hot chocolate, then absently rubs the side of his face against his shoulder. “I want a new fridge,” he eventually demands as he eats his untouched marshmallows. “The cute, mini ones we saw in the department store last time!”

“What?!” Hyukjae exclaims, wide-eyed. “But I already bought you two! The red one and the blue one – which you both already broke, by the way.”

“Someone very clever once said that things always come in threes,” Donghae wisely retorts, and smiles when he moodily wipes a milk stain at the corner of his mouth. “I want a green one this time!”

Groaning, Hyukjae tips his head back until it hits the couch and mutters something that suspiciously sounds like “that stupid someone should be thrown in jail”. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he moans aloud. “Why don’t you ask Siwon instead? He’s got way more money than I’ll ever have in my three next lives added up together.”

Donghae stifles an amused chuckle at his conflicted expression and tells him admonishingly, “But that wouldn’t be from you, isn’t it? It wouldn’t be the same!”

A skeptical look is sent his way, suspicious and searching. “… Do you really want it? Are you sure?” Hyukjae asks reluctantly.

Bright bubbles of laughter flow out of the younger’s lips this time, before he good-naturedly pats his thigh under the covers. “No, I don’t. Not really, anyways,” he reassures simply, and giggles at the blatant relief immediately spreading across his friend’s sharp features. “I was only winding you up, don’t worry.” He pauses briefly, then continues curiously, “But would you get it for me if I really asked?”

Sniffing moodily, Hyukjae gives him a sharp look. “Have I ever said no to you before?”

“Never,” Donghae happily admits. “Even when I asked for Yuki – Heechul hyung cursed at me when I went to him first, remember? Though you do nag a lot.”

“That’s because you always want stupid things, Hae.”

The latter looks up at him, trying to bite down a grin. “Stupiderer things?”

The corners of Hyukjae’s mouth twitch upwards into a reluctant, amused smile. “Yeah; that, too.”

*

Leaving his empty mug somewhere on the floor, Hyukjae sighs happily when he finishes yawning and leans back into the warm couch. When he idly glances down, Donghae is absently toying with the sleeve of his jumper and hums a light melody which he vaguely recognizes under his breath, snugly pressed against him and eyes half-closed.

An airy silence has comfortably settled between the two close men, heightened by the rhythmic sounds of their breathing and the dull purrs of the forgotten cat. It’s quiet and peaceful around the both of them, and it isn’t long until they start getting lost in a haze that isn’t quite slumber yet, but neither is it still full reality anymore. Just as Hyukjae sleepily considers closing his eyes once for all – or at least until next morning –, chilly toes that definitely aren’t his own skillfully sneak under the hem of his pants and press themselves against his calves.

He shivers, frowning in discomfort, and whines at Donghae to get off. “You’re cold,” he says and drags the last syllable into a pout. The other only throws his leg over his in response, tightly wrapped all around him as though he was a giant koala – a very chubby and demanding one.

Vaguely expecting him to whimper louder than he did, what Donghae utters next surprises him enough to wake him up a bit.

“Sungmin hyung got married last Sunday,” his best friend says softly. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? A bit weird, too.”

“Why so?”

“He’s… happy,” he replies, shrugging a little helplessly. “He looked so happy at the ceremony. And he has a wife, now; they’re going to live together and have babies. It’s… a little weird to picture it in my head – a good kind of weird, though. A very, very great one.”

Hyukjae shrugs his free shoulder with a faint grin. “Then it’s all that matters, right?” he hums as he feels immensely proud of how mature he became, despite the hints of childishness that still paint the edges of his opinion – but it wouldn’t be the best friend he loved if things weren’t exactly this way. “As long as Sungmin hyung is happy with Saeun, and that you’re happy for him – for them, then it’s good. A great kind of good.”

Tilting his head to the side as much as he can in this position, Donghae frowns hesitantly. “The fans were really mad at him though.”

A weary sigh slips out of Hyukjae’s mouth this time, before he rests the side of his face atop his head. “Not all of them were. And we can’t do anything about it, right? It’s something the fans have to sort out by themselves. Sungmin perfectly knew what he was doing when he made his decision – when he decided to be happy; they’ll be fine, the both of them together, and the fans will be, too, eventually. It’s just a matter of time, Donghae.”

“I don’t do a very good job at waiting. But I suppose you’re right,” Donghae smiles at him.

“I’m always right,” he retorts smugly. “I’m quite brilliant, after all.”

His best friend raises a doubtful eyebrow at him. “I don’t see you shining, though.”

Hyukjae bites down a laugh, gazing down at him in feigned exasperation. “Don’t be daft, you big prat. You’re not even funny.”

Giggling, Donghae presses the side of his face against his shoulder. “You’re talking funny words again!”

“That’s good coming from you,” the single-lidded man huffs.

He makes a poor attempt at Mokpo dialect, and fails, and Donghae laughs hard against him again.

*

Snow is still listlessly drifting down upon the bright city when Hyukjae blinks his eyes open, mind thickly cloudy as if he has just woken up from a slumber he doesn’t remember having fallen into. It’s white outside – he knows it’s supposed to be –, but also faintly glowing red and green with countless Christmas lights. He vaguely admits it’s pretty, but still not as much as he thinks Donghae is.

Not as much as Donghae is.

Sighing a bit dejectedly, he lightly brushes his lips on the crown of his head, fluffy locks of brown hair tickling his chin, and wonders if it would be too foolish to hope they will grow even closer with each other soon. He wonders if this Christmas will finally offer him what he has been fiercely wishing for so long. He wonders if he makes him happy. He wonders if he would make him happy.

He wonders if he is happy.

Biting down on his lower lip, Hyukjae slowly gazes down at Donghae – at his pretty eyelashes and his small skin imperfections and his thin lips –, just as the latter stirs awake and confusedly catches his gaze into an unfocused one. Warm chocolate orbs steal his breath away for one brief, overwhelming moment, until his best friend releases a soft yawn – and he feels quite ready to give up on everything if only he asked for it.

He’s beautiful, he thinks. Not perfect – no, never, because it’d mean he’s only a dream –, but as beautiful as someone could ever be in my eyes. He’s beautiful, and he’s real.

He’s here.

And so he decides, without the slightest qualms in heart, to just throw cautions in the wind; carefully – he briefly has to wonder when he has started becoming so unsure around him –, he wraps an arm around his shoulder and brings him as close as he can, until Donghae is almost fully lying on his chest.

Hyukjae just hopes he isn’t getting too far.

*

He isn’t; in fact, Donghae is more than obliged to snuggle closer, sighing contently within the loving warmth that are those two arms around him.

It’s dizzying. A bit.

*

A soft hand runs through his messy hair and lightly his temple, prompting him to flutter his eyes close. It feels ridiculously good, warmth seemingly enveloping him from everywhere he can think of while Hyukjae’s quiet breathing reaches his ears and his exposed skin.

Donghae absently wonders how this odd situation came to happen – he wonders if it’s okay while they have been holding back for so long already. He wonders if it’s okay to want it so bad. He wonders, and it excites him so much he shivers with idle passion.

Biting onto his lower lip, he spreads his fingers across Hyukjae’s chest and presses down. Rippled muscles tense underneath the palm of his hand as he languidly moves it lower, until it’s resting on the middle of his stomach. His nails lightly scratch his body through the thick fabric of his sweater, as though they want to rip it apart. He wonders if Hyukjae knows what he is thinking – he probably does. Or maybe he doesn’t.

Though Donghae really wishes he could.

“Donghae?” the low voice drifts to his ears with a whiff of heady perfume. Blushing slightly, though more of growing desire rather than plain embarrassment, he hums breathlessly in response. “Look up. Look at me.”

It sounds like an order, but he knows it isn’t one; it’s raw with emotions he is clumsily trying to hide with a sort of flatness that doesn’t suit him at all. If he didn’t know him like the back of his own hand, he’d think he was mad at him.

Donghae does look up, and a tense silence falls upon them. They wordlessly stare at each other – but he can hear it in the quietness, soft and melodious. It teasingly crawls upon his skin and makes him shudder even more, until he has to wonder whether it is because of the cold.

But no, it isn’t – it’s too warm around him. It’s too warm inside.

Will he kiss me? he wonders when Hyukjae glances down at his parted lips. Instinctively, his nails dig deeper into his clothed skin, but the other doesn’t flinch. Hazel orbs only darken in growing intensity, until he’s reduced to nothing but a mess of loud breathlessness.

Red and green lights delicately shine across Hyukjae’s features, beautifully enhancing their delicious sharpness, and he’s pretty sure he wants to touch him as much as Hyukjae does.

He guesses they’re both too stupid and scared to make the first move.

And so they wait, and wait and wait – and Hyukjae’s stare only intensifies with each seconds going by.

“Donghae,” he repeats, then stops.

But Donghae can hear it in the quietness. It echoes throughout the empty dorms, soft but clear. No words are needed as it rings louder in his mind. Prettier than before. More and more amazing.

And, at last, after what feels like an endless eternity – only about nine long years, actually –, Hyukjae gives him a last searching look then finally leans down and fits their lips together.

Donghae gasps and whimpers and groans for more, and Hyukjae shivers and trembles underneath him.

It feels good – perfect. It feels home.

It feels the person he loves.

*

Love is truly beautiful; I was thinking that for at least once in my life, I would like to be with someone who is ideal and beautiful, and have a love which I would be ready to die for.

That said, it is also true for all the things I didn’t challenge myself with or the things which I did not do – I should start looking for the strength to do them all.

However, love is not something that is beautiful or amazing to everyone. Sometimes, love is also hard and hurting; it doesn’t matter how big or little the love is.

Just be thankful that you can give your love to someone; and one should know that they must be grateful and blessed to be able to give their love to someone.

– Lee Donghae

*

“Did they mess up with the couch again?” Youngwoon scrunches is nose up in mild exasperation upon walking inside the quiet dorms, heavy grocery bags in hands.

Yawning quietly, Jungsu glances in the quiet living-room’s direction and nods wearily. “I think they’re sleeping.” Pausing, he amends with a reluctant, yet fond grin, “Again.”

Other members make mumbled comments he doesn’t try to decipher, until Heechul huffs moodily and make his way inside, purposely bumping into as much shoulders as he can. It earns him groans and whines of annoyance, which he all hushes with an imperious glare.

“Quiet, you bunch of useless peasants. If it wasn’t for my cute Donghae sleeping right now, you’d already be all dead,” he hisses, and Jungsu has a hard time guessing whether he’s being serious about the dead thing. “Now move and let me get some beauty sleep.”

Jungsu rolls his eyes as the other members clear off to their own bedrooms, but stays quiet. He walks to the couch and leans down to wake them up, planning to scold them a little, when he bemusedly notes how close they are lying next to each other. The two men – boys? – are a mess of hugs and entangled limbs while their lips are red and swollen, only a few inches apart from what would probably have been yet another kiss were they still awake.

He raises an eyebrow at them, unable to ignore how happy they both look with each other, even when asleep. Smiling, he slowly shakes his head and throws another duvet on top of them when they shiver slightly. It’s not that hard to guess how much closer Donghae and Hyukjae became in the meantime the other members were out.

It’s not that hard to realize, he thinks fondly, that they already opened their own presents.

Somewhere behind him, a wall-clock rings midnight and prompts him to glance outside – it’s not snowing anymore, but it’s Christmas Eve. A merry Christmas, indeed, he thinks.