{11.} HyukJae & DongHae

18:15:00 Roxana Poxana 2 Comments

Title: An Apartment of Our Own, or; three things that happen when DongHae and HyukJae move in together

Rating: G

Notes: Because why not, EunHae Fluff is good for your health

하나

“It’s crooked.”

DongHae groans trying not to roll his eyes—he fails. He tries to not play along and not turn around, but then HyukJae goes again:

“I’m telling you, it’s crooked.”

And DongHae drops his chopsticks with a huff, frowning and turning. It’s a framed picture of them from their college days, at a beach trip. They are facing the ocean, with HyukJae’s arm around DongHae’s shoulders, and thank god you can only see their pretty backs because their faces looked wrecked that morning. In fact, DongHae remembers little of the previous night and following morning save from a persistent headache and the smell of vomit clinging to his nose.

Ugh.

At least that pretty portrait had come of it. It gave the whole place a less bachelor-pad mood.

Yet for the past week HyukJae has been pushing DongHae’s love for the thing by insisting it is perpetually crooked and it is absolutely imperative they fix it. All. The. Damn. Time.

“Let it be, Hyukkie.”

“Let’s just fix it, one more time, ok?”

DongHae wants to say no. He wants to fight HyukJae’s freakish need for cleanliness and order because he honestly doesn’t give a fuck and they’ve only lived together for a week and DongHae doesn’t know how long he can stand it. But then he stares at HyukJae and is reminded of every little annoying quirk of his HyukJae puts up with and doesn’t have the heart.

“All right, all right. Let’s eat first, though. It’ll get cold otherwise.”

Silence. Blessed. For a few moments the only sound is DongHae chewing rice and the Bruno Mars they have for background music.

And then—

“But if we just fix it quickly…”

This time, DongHae throws his chopsticks and they bounce off the wooden table.

“Lee HyukJae, I swear!”

둘

It’s not the first time they wake up together—duh. They dated for three years before moving in, of course they spent countless nights together. But it was always sort of… rushed. Or awkward. Either at dorms where they knew they had to keep quiet, or at their family’s homes where (if lucky enough to be permitted to share a bed), they would spend their nights as far apart from each other as the narrow bed allowed and woke up early in order to prove they slept the whole night and did absolutely nothing untoward.

Living together is different.

They have a big bed, king size—one they chose together. Each of them has a side. They have their night tables, where each keeps their charger, books, magazines, perfumes. It’s so nice sometimes DongHae stand in the middle of the bedroom just to admire it right after they’ve tidied it up. There is a strange and mundane magic to joint ownership that DongHae never thought he would enjoy but here they are.

Today, like every day for the past three months, DongHae wakes up and finds the face he loves the most next to him.

Well. Not every day. Actually, it’s pretty unusual for DongHae to wake up first.

But today he does, and HyukJae's face is there, and DongHae feels something bubbling happily in his chest.

He reaches out and touches HyukJae’s face, tracing his forehead, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. HyukJae cracks an eye open. It’s lazy, but the still manages to look playful, because it’s DongHae and this will never cease to be perfect.

HyukJae yawns, but refuses to open his eyes. “Did you forget to turn something off?”

DongHae frowns. “Yah! This is the way you start our morning together? What am I, an idiot?”

HyukJae smiles and blindly reaches for DongHae’s waist, pulling him closer. DongHae’s hand never leaves HyukJae’s soft hair, his thumb gently tracing a sensitive spot behind his boyfriend’s ear.

They stay like that for a couple of minutes, in a silence that carries only birdsongs and relaxed breathing. DongHae touches HyukJae’s neck and then his bare shoulder, enjoying the way HyukJae gets goosebumps even when the touches are so leisured. It is not always they sleep naked or in boxers—they are not salvages, mind you. But, once in a while, especially on summer nights, it’s nice to feel the cool sheets against their bodies. Especially when they are doing more than just sleeping.

“Hmm, I wish I didn’t have to go to work today.”

DongHae can’t sympathize, not today; it's one of his colleagues’ birthday and her favorite cake type happens to match DongHae’s. He still scoots closer to kiss HyukJae’s cheek.

“Sleep a couple more minutes. I’ll make breakfast today.”

HyukJae snorts, hugging the pillow closer to his face.

“Good one. I’ll shower real quick and then I can get the coffeemaker going.”

DongHae sits up. “I’m not kidding. I’ll make toasts! French style and all, you’ll see!”

It should be something nice and sweet, but coming from DongHae’s lips it almost feels like a threat.

“Wait, no, no. I’m up, I’m up!”

HyukJae sits up and opens his eyes simultaneously, scanning the room only to find it DongHae-less. He gulps and stands up as fast as he can, not even bothering to get dressed. He races to the kitchen, hoping it’s not too late to save the stove and the coffeemaker from disaster.

“DongHae, wait, wait! DongHae-ah! Let me make the toasts!”

셋

It’s chilly that night, but DongHae thinks he rather likes it. It helps him cool off his head, even if he’s purposefully contributing to clouding it by drinking soju. In the middle of the night the city looks depressingly dead in spite of all the street lights and occasional traffic. It’s kind of sad. Or perhaps DongHae is just projecting his sulky mood.

The glass door slides open noisily. They keep forgetting to oil the damn thing.

HyukJae doesn’t really come out to the balcony. He leans against the frame and bites his lip, staring at DongHae.

“Are you okay?”

“Mmm.”

DongHae knows HyukJae is asking about their fight, earlier.

To be honest, he doesn’t know how he feels. Upset, would be his first word of choice. Odd. Off balance. He hates being angry at HyukJae, HyukJae being mad at him. It’s just not them.

It’s not that HyukJae and him never fought. Bickering was usual between them, their small riffs sometimes even escalating to screams and actual fights. It was good to blow off some steam every once in a while. And making up was part of the fun.

But living together, it makes every little thing seem more serious, permanent. They fought about medical insurance, which now that DongHae really takes time to think about it, is ridiculous a thing to get so worked up over. But then again, it wasn’t just about the insurance. It was about the laundry. And HyukJae’s mother who, when she visited, had been kind of rude about DongHae’s housekeeping abilities (as if DongHae, and not her son, should be the one doing the housecleaning). And it had been about DongHae’s coworker HyukJae feels jealous of. And the car. And the gas money for the car. And should they get a dog or not. And about all those other little things that kept piling up because they’ve only been living together for six months and even if they love each other to the moon and back, they haven’t really given each other time to adjust their rhythms to the idea of a combined existence.

That brings them to tonight.

Whenever they fight, DongHae is either really apologetic and clingy, or really explosive, saying stupid things he might later reject. This time, though, he was silent. He went out of the apartment to a corner liquor store, bought some soju, and locked himself out on the balcony to drink it all.

“I’m sorry. About everything. And not… I mean… I still think we should go with my plan. But… I am sorry. We should work it out.”

DongHae gulps down the last of his third bottle. His cheeks are red and pulsing. He feels the blood rushing through his body. He really wants a hug right now. And maybe a kiss, too.

“I’m… really drunk.”

HyukJae chuckles. “I can tell.”

“C’mere.”

HyukJae plops down on the floor next to one of their three lawn chairs. DongHae’s hand absentmindedly runs through his hair, perhaps a little more forcefully than usual, though HyukJae doesn’t know whether it’s the alcohol or residual anger.

“I’m sorry too. I… I don’t know why. I was so angry, because whenever we are about to fight I tell myself not to say anything and… Now I just wanted you to shut up and listen. Because you hadn’t listened before, but not because you didn’t want to but because I didn’t say anything but that didn’t seem important earlier. You see? Because I want everything to be perfect all the time and I don’t even know why.”

HyukJae nods slowly. Though DongHae slurs and rambles through most of his verbal vomit, HyukJae catches most of it. At least he thinks so. He wants to tell DongHae he understands. Because everything between them has always been easy and comfortable and playful and now they are trying their hand at something harder, more permanent, bigger, and they don’t want to fail. But why should disagreeing be failing? Why do they feel it’s perfect or substandard? Finding their way through their life as a couple is a journey on its own. It brings its own happiness, and they should enjoy it as such. So why all this worry?

But instead, because he has a headache from too much crying and sleep deprivation, he just says. “Yeah. I get it.”

He reaches up to cup DongHae’s cheek and looks into his eyes.

“You look so cute when you’re drunk.”

“We have mirrors, I know.”

HyukJae smiles. “We do, don’t we?”

They smile at each other and share a deep, intimate kiss that cuts into the cool night air.

They’ll figure it out.