Raiting: PG13| 1661words
Donghae thinks that his world is all like a néantique garden and Hyukjae is its lotus.
Donghae thinks that his world is all like a néantique garden and Hyukjae is its lotus.
He remembers Jungsu saying, one night, when they were sitting side by side, eating all sorts of Bulgogi and Namul, that his life does really resolve around Hyukjae.
And Jungsu wasn’t the only one, everyone says that, but Donghae doesn’t realize it; he doesn’t get what Hyukjae is for him. He doesn’t get what they are.
“What are we, Hyukjae?” He asks one night, when they were settled on bed, legs tangled, arms linked and faces moon-lightened.
“We are Hyukjae and Donghae.”
And Donghae thinks that maybe after all they are just two creatures with vacant names and unknown pasts.
Super Junior is breaking apart and everyone knows it, but they just don’t get it. They don’t get why eleven years of tears and weal should end.
And Donghae thinks that he starts knowing why when he sees Heechul shaving Heebum’s fur with a bright smile invading his lips.
“Hyung, is this really the end?” Donghae asks while staring at Heebum’s pained eyes, and he thinks that maybe all of this is for the best.
“I don’t know, maybe and maybe not.”
“And when all of this ends, what will you do?”
“Get married maybe? I already had a hard time surviving all this years without feeling loved.”
Donghae wants to ask why hyung, don’t we love you enough already, but stops when he almost sees a glint of sorrow pervading Heechul’s eyes.
Maybe he didn’t get a single thing after all.
“Hyukjae, are we ending?” Donghae asks and he felt tears coming, he felt the moonlight reaching his face making all sorts of darkish colors staining him.
Hyukjae looked up at him and held him close, to his heart.
“Super Junior is ending, but we are not.” He says intertwining his fingers around Donghae’s, kissing his temple and the top of his head.
“But what are we.” Donghae asks, voice muffled with sobs and weeping.
“Whatever you want us to be.”
And Donghae wonders what he actually wants them to be.
Donghae switched on the lights of the dark and empty dancing room and he almost sees the shadows of himself kissing Hyukjae’s lips for the first time, when they were lying against cold walls. It was nothing harsh or passionate; it was just a single peck on plump lips; innocent and honest.
They were eighteen, they knew nothing of life. They just wanted experiences and happiness. They wanted fame and popularity.
He laid his back against the skyish wall of the room and he thinks that he’ll miss this, he’ll miss their trainers’ days, he’ll miss Jungsu’s yells whenever they do something inappropriate, he’ll miss their unspoken goodbyes and I love yous, he’ll miss their stolen kisses in front of the Han river and he’ll miss their smiles and laughter.
And Donghae thinks that he doesn’t need privacy or a wife waiting for him when he comebacks home after a long day of work. He just needs this, crowded dancing rooms, genuine smiles, Jungsu’s noisy orders and Hyukjae’s presence. He wants this; he wants fans waiting for him in front of some hotels, stretching their arms, trying to have a piece of his cloth.
And at that moment, when he hears heavy footsteps and loud laughs, when he sees trainers entering the dancing room without noticing his presence, he sees himself in them, holding into Hyukjae, with Junsu marching slowly, complaining about how stupid and ugly the woman who just rejected him, is.
“I want you, forever.” Donghae said when he saw Hyukjae leaning against the kitchen’s counter, sweeping on his coffee and reading an English newspaper that he obviously doesn’t understand.
Hyukjae stares at him and asks why, and Donghae felt like murdering him.
“I love you, okay.” He just says, quietly and smoothly and Hyukjae fought the urge of kissing the life out of him.
“So, since you want me forever, shall I consider the idea of living together, after that -Super Junior ends-?”
And Donghae smiles, smiles, smiles until his cheeks hurt.
Super Junior really did end, with unspoken words and wishes.
The dorm was emptied, replaced and forgotten.
“This is such a legendary dorm,” Hyukjae says with a sad smile, and Donghae nods. It’s a dorm that carries non ordinary memories. It’s a dorm that knows salty coffees, brunt ramens, cries, laughs and forbidden words and feelings. Such a legendary dorm. Donghae says and smiles.
They are in their thirties. They are almost, all, married. But Hyukjae and Donghae aren’t. They are living somewhere in this world. They are such a mess, Donghae thinks. A beautiful mess, it is. Hyukjae corrects and Donghae kisses him, deeply and romantically, and he wishes that they could stay like this, forever.
There were times when Hyukjae’s mother asks him to finally get married to make her happy and proud. But Hyukjae tells her that he’s still young, he doesn’t need that, yet.
Donghae knows about that, he knows that Hyukjae’s mother only sees him as an everlasting friend of her son, he knows that she wants to see Hyukjae wearing his tuxedo, kissing a beautiful and saint girl, with him standing at the side, as a best man, clapping and grinning from ear to ear, He knows it.
Donghae expected everything, but not Hyukjae telling him that he maybe should get married to some girl to please his mother, and oh don’t worry Donghae, we will not break up.
That day, the only things that Hyukjae saw and received, were punches and kicks, blood mixed with salty tears.
“Idiot,” Donghae said as he laid his head against Hyukjae’s chest after beating the hell out of him. “Idiot,”
“I’m sorry,” Hyukjae mumbled weakly, moving his hand to caress Donghae’s hair.
Donghae lost the count of how many times Jungsu asked them to stop whatever he and Hyukjae are having.
“Think of what people will say about you two,” He reasons and Donghae looks at him lazily.
“I don’t care about what people think; I stopped caring about them since a long time ago.” He says, flipping down the mountain of papers lying in front of him.
“You’re not living alone Donghae, even if I accept you, even if we accept you, there’s still the waiter who serves your coffee, or the hotel’s receptionist or even the old woman that you meet on street, who will give you ropy looks.” He says as he puts down his mug of coffee.
“I told you that I don’t care about that, as long as I have Hyukjae, I don’t care about such things.” Donghae adds and he almost tears up. No one understands, after all.
“Just remember that what’s you two are doing is completely wrong.”
“It’s not, it has never been wrong. Love has no boundaries.”
“Is it love already?” Jungsu asks, not too surprised.
“It has always been love.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” Donghae says as he kisses Hyukjae’s mouth for the nth time, hands pressed around his torso, legs tangled and bodies linked as a mess.
“I don’t want to, either.” Hyukjae answers, grabbing Donghae’s hair and smiles. And Donghae wonders if it’s possible to kiss his smile.
“I don’t care about what your mother thinks about us, nor Sora your sister. Nor the waiter that serves our coffee or the old woman that we meet on street.”
“What are you talking about, you sound stupid.” Hyukjae says chuckling.
“I just want you, I want this, I want us, Hyukjae.” He says and Hyukjae sees a glinted future in his eyes.
Donghae doesn’t see kids or a woman waiting for him after his work, he doesn’t see a well prepared dinner or a nice shampooed bath. He sees Hyukjae and his stinky legs, Hyukjae and his stinginess, Hyukjae and his gums and sweaty body.
“God, it’s such a mess.” Donghae says as he hugs Hyukjae close to him and the later grins and mumbles a silent I love you against his cheek.
Donghae still doesn’t understand their relationship; he isn’t Jungsu who wakes up to a tasty breakfast on bed with a beautiful woman by his side. He isn’t Heechul who surprises his wife with a peaceful voyage each month. He isn’t Donghee who kisses Nari on daylight and spends his afternoon teaching his children different kinds of dances. He isn’t any of that, he’s just a Donghae who wakes up to brown orbs, each morning, staring and tracing his face’s features. He lives with a Hyukjae who leans against the kitchen’s counter, wearing his boxers, trying to cook something for him, but ends up commending pizzas or cheeseburgers. He lives with a Hyukjae who will ask him to join him in the bathtub, but they end up raping each others, until the sun fades and the moonlight starts glinting the warm water that encompasses their bodies. He lives with a Hyukjae who will have a pillow fight with him each night, until they get tired and collapse against the smooth and sleek sheets of their beds.
He doesn’t need the approval of his mother to be with the man that made his life an entire beautiful mess. He just needs Hyukjae and their apartment, and everything will be okay. He doesn’t care about the waiter that serves his coffee or the old woman that they see on street or even the hotel’s receptionist. He just needs one single lotus of his néantique garden.