| 19 (1/2)

. . nineteen . .  Donghae can’t take his eyes off of Hyukjae. The words hover in the air and in the back of his head like a heavy cover of dust, making it hard to breathe. He is still afraid what it would uncover; if something would happen; if in despite to everything, Hyukjae isn’t ready to accept his love for him even if the expression on Hyukjae’s face grows gentler, the almond in his eyes darker and his breaths shallow. He hasn’t seen the hesitance often, and it’s frightening, and it causes deep heartthrobs down on his chest. The seconds passing feel like forever, and he needs confirmation, some acceptance. He doesn’t expect Hyukaje to feel quite the same depth of emotion as he does. But he wants to show him; make him understand how much the growing pain of affection and love meant so much more than any fear ever could.

And it’s partly because he needs to start believing in it himself.

Hyukjae shifts, taking a wavering step closer. So close that Donghae feels the sparks which Hyukjae’s thigh brushing his own causes. The man’s eyes are lowered somewhere around Donghae’s lips, and the puffs of rapid breaths are already blending, lingering on their lips, and Donghae’s frozen, and he can’t think straight. But Hyukjae lifts his hand, and he can feel the subtle tremble of his fingers when they graze his temple, falling slowly along his cheekbone, down on his jaw, halting to a stop on his chin.

And Hyukjae gazes at him, soft like velvet, and neither of them can breathe, the air is hitching at throats, the fingers on Donghae’s skin burning as if it’s the first time air reaches spark, breaking into fire, fire, fire.

Hyukjae opens his mouth to say something, a flick of a questions rolling on his tongue and in the light spots on his eyes, but then a phone starts ringing. The rings seem to boom louder and louder, and a fearful churn rolls inside Donghae’s stomach like a snake, but Hyukjae’s hand on Donghae’s chin doesn’t falter. With his other hand, Hyukjae pulls out the phone, taking a rushed glance of the caller before he puts it on his ear, leaving it hanging against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he answers with a moody tone, a sharp gleam dashing over his eyes as he listens.

Donghae doesn’t move, when Hyukjae’s hand falls down on his neck. The phone call obviously irritates Hyukjae, the way it breaks the fragile moment, but the hand on his neck tells him another story. It’s Hyukjae’s way of saying that he’s sorry about it but he won’t let it ruin something that belonged only for them. Hyukjae’s answers are blunt and simple, and as his eyes tell there’s a moment where he just needs to listen the caller, Donghae sees the rebellion in his expression.

It’s just Hyukjae’s style to duck in an connect their lips in the middle of a call.

The thumb close to Donghae’s jawline draws small spots on his skin when the lips brush against each other for a second, a little hesitant but no short of confident, as if the thought of kissing Donghae is perfectly logical for Hyukjae, without any fear or prejudice. And it knocks the air out of Donghae’s lungs, because it’s a curious kiss, an honest kiss with their breaths dancing on their lips for a moment between when Hyukjae humms one last time for the phone before it’s dropped to the floor, and his other hand is finally free to fall on the small of Donghae’s back. To pull him closer.

Hyukjae tilts his head a bit to the side, and it’s impossible to keep the kiss from growing hungrier, as the brunet leans more into it, at last letting go of the barricade that’s been dominating him from just being himself with Hyukjae. And everything about it is freeing and liberating.

Loud beats of heart thunder inside Hyukjae’s head, as Donghae’s chest is pressed against his, and a light grip hangs from his shirt. It’s only lips and breaths mingling against each other, even when Donghae parts his own and there’s a slight graze of teeth. The ragged breaths makes his insides go haywire and his skin crawling in excitement he’s not felt before. He feels breathless; his stomach tossing and turning, and his whole body tingling erratically, when the tip of Donghae’s tongue skims over his lower lip. It makes him lean more into it, nibble back the plump of the other’s lip, gasping for air as he forgets to breathe from time to time.

And there’s an airy, a rare curse at him as Donghae feels like there’s fireworks lighting up inside, and it still hard to grasp to it’s really hapenning. That Hyukjae’s kissing him, on purpose, wanting it too.

“F-fuck.”

The continuous kiss is anything but the kisses Hyukjae’s had before; it’s light and at the same time, full of the emotions that have been haunting him for the last couple of weeks. There’s nothing similar to the way he’s ever kissed his one night stands, the ones that have been just passages to oblivion. The way Donghae kisses him back is addicting, enchanting, making him to want more of it the same way sleeping next to him or holding his hand causes an ache inside. An ache for not wanting lose him, and he doesn’t want Donghae to go, he wants him to stay in his life, with his daughter – all three of them.

Nothing’s ever caused him to want someone so much. Not for lust, not for pleasure, but for someone to be by his side, when he ends up struggling and stumbling, making mistakes and trying to right his wrongs.

Hyukjae doesn’t want it to end when Donghae’s hand climbs up to his hip, supportive. It’s everything he could ask for, and Hyukjae gives the other man a final peck on the lips, a tentative one, as his eyes open and his gaze comes back to focus. His face is flushed, the skin on his neck prickling, and Donghae’s already watching him peacefully. There’s a little curve at the edge of Donghae’s lips when their eyes marvel at each other, the emotions now ripped apart and wide open.

“I didn’t...” Hyukjae grunts, baffled and confused but thrilled as his tongue seems to knot up. “I didn’t expect it to feel so...”

Donghae’s gaze lowers, but his hands rise up to cling onto the front of Hyukjae’s shirt, humming, before he places his index finger on Hyukjae’s lips, shutting him up.

The wet touch of the other’s lips still flutter on Hyukjae’s own, and the scent he’s already gotten used to is now even more tangible, something he hasn’t paid much attention to before. The masculine trail is simultaneously cool and spicy, and he can’t get enough of it.

There’s a silence that’s filled with Hyukjae’s rare smile that’s a little sheepish and anxious, and although the kiss has managed to rise the energies up to the roof, it’s surprisingly laid-back atmosphere. A few things and questions pop up to the back of his mind, but Hyukjae only watches Donghae for a minute, who slowly backs against the opposite wall, crossing his arms over his chest. The posture isn’t reserved, the expression on the brunet’s face is not far from Hyukjae’s, and he ends up taking a deep breath.

The barricade, or a wall, whatever it used to be, isn’t there anymore. The air is fresh, loaded with something new.

Then, from his pheriperal vision, he notices a small figure strolling towards them.

Jaemin rubs her eye and tilts her head curiously as her father turns to look at her. She is a little tired, but Hyukjae hears the tv, and the characters of a show talking and the surroundings are suddenly very present to him. It doesn’t seem like she’s been sleeping at all, her cheeks aren’t red from falling asleep on the couch, and he wonders if Jaemin heard everything. A churn goes around his stomach, but the girl’s expression happens to calm the passing storm. She holds a thin box on her other hand, and rises it a bit in the air.

“Daddy, can we make this puzzle?” she ends up asking, and Hyukjae lets out a breath of relief.

It takes him a second to know how to speak again.

“S-sure.”

Jaemin nods as if she knew the answers all along. But then she purses her mouth, and raises and eyebrow at her father who’s about to take a step towards her.

“Is daddy gonna marry Donghae?”

His head goes blank, and his face turns white but his cheeks suddenly grow very, very red. He can’t even think about looking at Donghae now.

“W-why’d you say that?” he stammers.

“Because… Because daddy kiss him, and Donghae’s pretty and Donghae makes food?”

Hyukjae wants to hide somewhere. His daughter is way too observant for her own good. Cheeks burning and stomach swirling as if there’s a hurricane rummaging around, he finds the courage to peek at Donghae who bites his lips in a way that makes him want to kiss him again because it’s not just Hyukjae who’s getting red as a tomato.

“Ehh,” Hyukjae swallows, clasping his hands onto her shoulders and turning the girl towards the living room. “I’ll need to think about that.” He’s not sure what he’s saying, the words just escape his mouth. What’s he supposed to say anyway? The thought about marrying anyone makes his skin bristle. Especially Donghae.

“Let’s just do the puzzle first, okay?” he ends up pleading.

It’s been about fifteen minutes since Jaemin ended up blabbering about the kiss, and him and Donghae, and Donghae being pretty and being able to cook, causing Hyukjae to think about getting hitched, Donghae wearing a black suit or holding a ring.

It’s a little too much to think at this point.

But it’s not a lie that the thought is not entirely revolting.

It just scares the shit out of him.

But for his mental health’s sake, he’s glad that Donghae hasn’t mentioned it – let alone his daughter. He has enough to think about as it is. Like the fact that he’s quite sure that kissing Donghae is probably the best feeling he’s had in a while. It’s confusing, life-altering—it scares him too but at least it’s not something he wants to run away from.

And as he sits on the living room floor, Jaemin just around the coffee table and Donghae slouching on the couch behind his back, Hyukjae would’ve never think about enjoying it. Just a month ago, he would’ve laughed if someone told him he’d be sitting here with a four year old and a gay man who loves him. He would’ve grabbed another drink before he would’ve ended up in someone’s apartment he barely knew a name for.

He has to admit he’s starting to like this.

And as Jaemin muses which piece to take, Donghae finally says something. The voice makes Hyukjae’s stomach flutter, but he tries to ignore it.

“Who was it calling you, then—you know?”

He knows what Donghae’s hinting at, but he’s grateful that it’s not the main topic on Donghae’s mind. He absent-mindedly scratches his bare arm, before he replies, “Sora. You remember her, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” Donghae mutters, biting his lip. “What did she want?”

“You didn’t hear?” Hyukjae gives him a look, eyebrow rising.

“I was a little distracted to pay enough attention to that.”

Hyukjae chuckles nervously, not trying to hide the curve on his lips when his head goes back to the moment of flutters and Donghae’s tongue sliding over his lip.

“Daddy, your turn,” Jaemin notes as it’s a little hard for her father to take his eyes off the brunet.

He searches for a piece that would fit into the puzzle, but he soon gazes back to the girl. “I can’t find one, can you?” Hyukjae inquires, obviously lying because the puzzle has about 48 pieces and he would have put it together in a minute if he had to, but he finds it paramount that Jaemin gets the most out of it.

Jaemin glares around the pieces scattered over the coffee table, and it takes just a few seconds for her to point out a piece. “Can’t you see?” she replies with a scowl. “I think you need glasses, daddy.”

The father has to bite down on his lips as Donghae leans against his shoulder when he hunches down from laughter.

“Touché,” Hyukjae chuckles under his breath, taking the piece and putting it into place. The girl gives the men a disapproving look, but Hyukjae feels really warm because she’s starting to have personality, obviously getting more comfortable and trusting every day she spends with her father.

“My turn,” she continues matter-of-factly, her attention falling back to the point.

Hyukjae watches Jaemin focus, but then he hears Donghae fiddling something as he calms down, and hears him muttering teasingly: “I wonder where she’s getting her wit from. She’s going to be handful when she gets older, if her parents are of any indication what’s she’s going to be like.”

Hyukjae glances over the girl again. It’s not easy to imagine the four year old growing up, and it makes his stomach churn uncontrollably as he tries to think about her going to school, learning how to read and then changing into a teenager who slams doors and who finds her father utterly embarrassing because he’s chasing every boy away when they dare to look at her way. The mere images scare the shit out of him, but it’s starting to sink in that it would be his future.

“Ugh,” he grunts, “I don’t want her to grow up.”

“Just wait when she gets comfortable enough to throw tantrums.”

Hyukjae turns towards Donghae who lies on the couch on his stomach. Crunching his nose up, Hyukjae makes a face, quietly hoping Donghae would be there with him when that happens. But the earlier conversation about Sora comes back to his mind. It has been a good while since he’s last seen his sister.

“Anyway, Sora called that she’s coming to Seoul soon.”