eunhyuk/donghae, pg-13, 821 words
forever isn't long at all if they're together.
Inspired by the movie "Up". Some paltry attempt at trying to write again ;-;
At five-and-a-half-going-on-six, Hyukjae decides that Donghae is bubbly and bouncy and happy and very much his kind of person, so he shares his Crayolas with Donghae and they draw aliens and fish and monsters all over the kindergarten floor (and are subsequently made to stand in the corner together).
At seven, Donghae thrusts half a cookie in Hyukjae’s face and the both of them sit on the curb beside the field in the elementary school and eat, Hyukjae breaking his half of the cookie into small bits because then he’d finish it slower than Donghae and then he can give Donghae some more cookie, since cookie is Donghae’s favoritest, favoritest food. Ever.
At ten the two of them trudge muddily into Hyukjae’s house after a session of football in the rain and are hosed down by Hyukjae’s mom not unlike how pigs are hosed down, but they splash around and kick water everywhere anyway.
At thirteen Donghae kisses a girl on a dare and Hyukjae laughs and claps but is overcome by a sense of – something, he can’t actually identify – so his gummy smile comes out kind of strained and Donghae asks if he’s constipated.
At fifteen Hyukjae has Donghae in a headlock and they are laughing about something positively silly when they find themselves within two inches of each other and there is a electric, static tension between them for what feels like eternity before Donghae’s brother interrupts them.
At sixteen Donghae takes a girl out on a date, because it’s the cool thing to do, but he never feels that static tension that made his hairs stand on end with her. Not even when he kisses her.
At nineteen Donghae goes on a holiday with his parents for three weeks and Hyukjae lies in bed every night for the three weeks with his eyes wide open because the loneliness is asphyxiating.
At twenty-one they have a good round of drinks for Donghae’s big two-one (sole exception for alcohol) and they’re both drunk and the room is spinning slightly, and suddenly Donghae’s lips are on Hyukjae’s like a white-hot brand, a fiery whisper – Donghae’s.
At twenty-two Hyukjae lies to himself that he’s forgotten about their kiss because he hasn’t, not once in the two hundred and thirty-four days passed.
At twenty-three Hyukjae finds a girl to hang on to and Donghae has to keep his breaths in short gasps because it’s actually kind of hard to breathe with needles through your heart.
At twenty-four Hyukjae is dumped and Donghae lets Hyukjae cry on his shoulder for a while, but somehow Hyukjae’s lips find his, and this time they’re not drunk anymore and it’s real, because Donghae can feel Hyukjae’s lips, soft and pliant, he can smell distinctly Hyukjae, he can feel Hyukjae’s jawline underneath the pads of his fingers, and he can taste Hyukjae – rain, tears, and something that reminds him of cookie.
At twenty-six a kiss turns into hands on bare skin and heat raging in bodies and Hyukjae tears up a little when Donghae comes undone inside him just as he comes right into Donghae's hand, and Donghae has to do some emergency measures to stop the tears.
At thirty Donghae whispers in Hyukjae’s ear, I dreamt that we’ll grow old together, and Hyukjae smiles, that’s not a dream.
At thirty-six they buy tickets round the world and visit countries with names they didn’t even know how to pronounce, and Hyukjae feels like he’s the happiest person in the world even though Donghae has an elbow wedged in his side because the bed they were sharing was too small.
At forty-one the two of them lie on their backs in the grass, looking at clouds and pointing out tortoises and rabbits and birds and cars (BMWs, only).
At fifty-three they pant their way up the hill a little way off their house to lean against the tree and talk about the skies, Donghae’s diet, Hyukjae’s smells, nothing in particular, really.
At sixty-four Donghae has to get bypass surgery and wakes up after a five-hour induced coma to hit Hyukjae on the head because he was blubbering too loudly, he wanted to sleep, damn it.
At seventy Hyukjae sits in his favourite armchair and Donghae in his, and Hyukjae takes Donghae’s hand when it falls on his own, just because he can.
At seventy-eight Donghae takes his last breath smiling and fingers interlaced with Hyukjae's, and Hyukjae feels like half of a whole.
At eighty-two Hyukjae knows he’s about to go, and somehow when he looks up he sees that sunlight-framed face. He smiles and closes his eyes.