Paving sidewalks
Title: Paving sidewalks
Pairing: Hyukjae/Donghae
Rating: PG-13
Paving sidewalks
On early mornings, sun barely peeking out through dark clouds, Donghae walks on the road.
Sidewalk a few feet away, Donghae likes the sensation of asphalt beneath his shoes. The way his heels smooth over rough ground, giving him that slight bounce in his step.
Cars don’t pass by this road so early. The few that do, honk at him and Donghae is quick to sidestep towards the sidewalk, to safety. But Donghae likes how his mind wanders and connects with the road, so it’s not long till he he’s back off the sidewalk.
Trees lining all the way, Donghae beings to wander. Not off the course, no his feet keep going in a straight line, divided by white and yellow. It’s his mind wandering off on him, somewhere between the clouds and the green.
Donghae barely feels the vibration. He misses the way the loose pieces of road, pebbles ripped from it, shake and tremble. But subtly, he hears the soft roaring; it’s a purr in the distance.
It gets closer, and the vibrations become sharper, the purr becomes a skin crawling growl.
Heart beating out of his chest, he jumps onto the sidewalk and feels the air swoosh past his body as the motorcycle passes him by.
Donghae thinks he sees the driver’s head turn in his direction, lens covered eyes catching his for a second. But he can’t be sure. He never is.
Sighing, hand pressing his hand to his chest, Donghae takes a step down, back on the road. He walks the rest of the way, shuffling at the sidewalk’s border, trying to make out the sun in the distance.
^
Donghae pedals hard and fast, his bike bumping over unleveled concrete. It’s rare the occasion he decides to ride his bike to school, but sometimes he feels bad when he sees it collect dust in the garage. So some mornings he gives his feet a break and proves people true when they say you never forget how to grip the bars and work the breaks.
Kneeling, he fastens the lock around the bike rack along with the few lone bikes already there.
He’s about to get up when the ground shakes beneath him, the sound of an engine roaring in his ears.
The motorcycle halts to a stop, the engine is cut off abruptly. Still on the ground, Donghae watches as the helmet is removed, dark hair falling into darker eyes, the sharp angles of a boy sharpening an otherwise pretty face. The boy swings a leg over the motorcycle and stands gracefully; leather outlining from wider shoulders to a slim back.
Donghae eyes the motorcycle as the helmet is put away, trying not to stare at the way tight pockets hug the boy’s ass as he bends over the bike, and seeing something on the license plate he blurts out “I thought your name was Hyukjae.”
Hyukjae snaps straight, looking at Donghae over his shoulder. “It is” he says slowly, eyes darting to where Donghae is looking. “Eunhyuk’s a nickname.”
“Oh” is all Donghae says, fumbling with the lock on his bike.
Swinging his bag over his shoulder, Hyukjae smirks at him. “I wouldn’t bother with that” he tilts his chin towards Donghae’s old rusty bike, mocking him clearly.
By the time Donghae comes up with something to say, Hyukjae is striding into school, his jacket off and thrown over a shoulder in a lazy way, wrist upturned just right. Dusting off his knees, Donghae gets up and glares at his back.
^
It’s dark by the time Donghae walks out the school gates. He waves goodbye to his friends heading for the bus stop and looks back at the school once, saying a so long till Monday.
As a teenager, he should be full of a joyful glee at the arrival of the weekend. But while Donghae welcomes the rest, he wishes the weekend would pass by fast.
Not looking where he’s going, Donghae doesn’t see the bump in the sidewalk until he’s tripped, school books flying, palm scrapped.
Ignoring the sting in his hand, Donghae picks up his belongings. He reaches out for the last book, when a pair of shoes appears in his field of vision; book in a pair of glove covered hands.
Donghae looks up cautiously, words lodged in his throat along with his heart.
A few seconds of awkward silence, even more of uncomfortable stares, Donghae takes the book, his hands brushing leather. Catches himself wondering what the fabric might feel like against other parts of his body.
Piercing eyes turning away from him, Donghae blushes at his thoughts and manages to actually say something.
“Umm, thank you.”
Hyukjae stops, nods once, and turns around.
Donghae doesn’t waste time watching him walk away, simply crosses the street and walks. Besides, he’s watched Hyukjae walk away plenty of times; he can imagine it just fine.
^
Mondays and Thursdays, Sungmin doesn’t take the bus so Donghae walks on the sidewalk and has someone to keep his head out of the clouds.
They arrive at school and by the bike racks there is a tool box, black stained rags and a grunting, swearing, shirtless Hyukjae. Okay, he’s not shirtless; he’s wearing a white tank. But it’s practically see-through and drenched in sweat from the hot sun, the muscles of his back and arms outlined, so he might as well be.
Donghae tells Sungmin to go ahead, that he’ll catch up in homeroom. Sungmin shoots him a weird look when he sees him looking over at Hyukjae.
“Hopefully it’ll break down permanently” Sungmin snorts, eyes filled with disdain. “It’s people like him that give this school a bad name.”
“It can’t all be true” Donghae says, watching Hyukjae’s grease stained hands, his gloves peeking from his back pocket.
“Bet it is. Boys like that are trouble” there’s a warning in his voice, but Donghae ignores him, pushing Sungmin in the building’s direction. Sungmin narrows his eyes and leaves, throwing Hyukjae a glare as he enters.
Taking a breath, Donghae approaches where all the curse words are flying from. “Need help?”
Hyukjae looks up from the transmission, annoyed. “Unless you’ve got a gearbox stashed in your backpack, no. But when the chains on my tricycle break, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Scoffing, Donghae pushes Hyukjae aside gently and squats down next to him. Hyukjae looks at him, stunned.
Taking a look around the machine, toolbox at his feet, Donghae speaks when Hyukjae’s about to shove him away. “The problem is these new cylinders you’ve installed in the engine. They’re not compatible with this model, so they interfere with the transmission and the clutch doesn’t respond to the lever that releases the clutch spring. Plus your chain drive isn’t lubricated properly, so that’s why the transfer of power from the gearbox to the rear wheel doesn’t go smoothly. Which would explain why you can’t get to go fast enough.”
At a loss for words, Hyukjae stares at him; mouth hanging open like Donghae’s speaking Greek.
Donghae smirks, wiping his hands with a cloth. “I’d get a professional to take a look at it” he gets up, Hyukjae’s eyes scanning his body as Donghae rises. “My dad’s a mechanic.”
He grabs his bag and walks into school, letting Hyukjae be the one to watch Donghae walk away for once.
^
“Hey”
Donghae stops, fingernails digging into his palms inside his coat pockets. He turns slowly, trying to not seem eager. Which he’s not. At all.
“What?”
Leaning against his bike, Hyukjae’s hands rest on his thighs, the leather in contrast to the dark blue of his jeans. “I took your advice.”
“My dad said a guy from my school came in so I figured it was you.”
Hyukjae nods a few times, like to himself, thumbs taping against his thighs. “You going home?”
Donghae thinks of a sarcastic reply, but it’s not really his thing. “Yeah” he answers, intrigued.
“You want a ride?”
Donghae’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised. His heart skips a beat and he thinks he’s swallowed his gum. He can see Hyukjae maybe regret asking already, so he quickly nods. “Sure.”
Hyukjae looks taken aback, and exhales, his breath puffing in the night air. He hands Donghae his helmet and straddles the bike.
“Wait” Donghae says apprehensive. “You’ve only got one helmet.”
Hyukjae sighs and gets off the seat. He flips open the seat, and pulls out another helmet. Placing it on his head, he sits back down. “Happy?”
“I’ve never ridden on one before.”
Hyukjae stops adjusting the rearview mirrors, cranks the engine on and shifts forward. “I’ll go slow” he promises, something about his voice warming the pit of Donghae’s stomach.
Hands on Hyukjae’s shoulders, he swings a leg over the bike, the leather of the chair squishy beneath his pants. The heat from Hyukjae’s body hits Donghae’s, chest to back, leather on cotton, and he can feel the tension bubble up inside him, tightening in his abdomen. He’s glad Hyukjae can’t see the pink streaking his cheeks.
“Hold on” Hyukjae instructs over the engine and Donghae does so, wrapping his arms loosely around Hyukjae’s waist. “Tightly” Hyukjae warns just as he takes off.
The bike sprints forward and Donghae tightens his arms around Hyukjae, hands pressing into the leather of his jacket, thighs pressed against Hyukjae’s.
He hears Hyukjae gasp when his fingers dig into his stomach, but Donghae guesses it’s from his screaming in his ear.
^
A week. Not a hello or a hi. Not even a hey. No offers for a ride or an acknowledgment of Donghae’s existence. He did almost run him over one morning, but aside from that, nothing. Donghae has been biting his tongue for a week and is about to burst.
The hairs on his arms stand up at the looks he gets; the smoke in the air makes him choke. Donghae’s pretty sure if anyone finds out he’s been here they’ll be hell, but he doesn’t care.
Because he’s caught Hyukjae staring at him during class. Felt those deep eyes on the back of his neck as he walks down the halls. Knows he wasn’t the only affected one by that ride a week ago.
“What are you doing?”
Donghae turns, trying to look calm. “Bar hopping.”
Hyukjae chuckles, his boots making him slightly taller than Donghae than usual. “Well hop on over to some other bar. I don’t think this is your scene.”
“I come here all the time. Just never when you do” Donghae sticks his chin out and slaps a hand on the bar and sits. “My usual, Jonghyun.”
Hyukjae takes a seat next to him. “Ignore him, Seungho” he looks at the bartender pointedly “I’ll have my usual. Give him a Kool-aid or something.” He looks at Donghae, glaring at him and frowns. “On second thought, give him diet anything. This guy doesn’t need more sugar.”
The bartender, Seungho, laughs and heads to the other end of the bar.
“Okay, so I’ve never been here before,” Donghae admits once they’re alone.
“Why are you here?” Hyukjae asks, and there is this genuine curiosity in his eyes, but Donghae just shrugs.
“Here you go.” Seungho comes back, dropping a beer in front of Hyukjae, a glass and a can of diet coke in front of Donghae. He laughs and goes back to wiping the table.
“I like this song” Donghae says after sipping his drink. A soft guitar plays, accompanied by honey smooth male vocals singing about fallen stars and lost loves.
Hyukjae snorts. “I find that hard to believe.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Turning in his chair, Hyukjae leans an elbow on the counter. “You’re the kind that listens to the top radio hits. The hottest act on Music Wave or whatever it’s called, not some half ass pub singer no one listens to.”
“That’s not true” Donghae exclaims. Hyukjae looks skeptical. Donghae sighs. “Okay, so maybe some of that is true. But people aren’t just one dimensional. What’s on the outside doesn’t even begin to crack what’s inside. Most people just don’t take the time to knock to see if they can be let in.”
Hyukjae bites the rim of his bottle in mid sip, a drop of beer escapes the corner of his mouth and rolls down his cheek. “That’s some deep poetry shit there.”
Donghae rolls his eyes. “Now you’re going to say I can’t like poetry?”
“No, that I believe.”
Donghae laughs for some reason and Hyukjae sets the bottle down slowly, looking at him surprised. Donghae’s lips stretch into a smile that falters a bit when Hyukjae’s gaze lowers to his mouth.
In a surge of confidence, Donghae lifts his hand to Hyukjae’s face and wipes the drop of beer with his finger. Hyukjae’s skin is incredibly soft and warm and Donghae’s finger lingers.
Frozen, Hyukjae stares at him as Donghae looks at his finger curiously and brings it to his own mouth. He licks it, savoring beer and something that is distinctively Hyukjae.
And just to see what Hyukjae will do, he grabs his beer and drinks, despite not liking beer at all. Empty, Donghae sets it down, smirks and raises an eyebrow.
Hands griping the edge of the counter, Hyukjae swallows, the gulping sound clear over the male singer’s voice.
^
“I’m not letting you drive me home.”
“Who says I was offering?”
Donghae laughs in the cold air. It’s a late autumn night now, the moon in plain view.
Cocking an eyebrow, Hyukjae watches Donghae sit on his motorcycle and throw his head back towards the sky. “You should let me drive,” he says casually, watching the glare of the moon.
“Oh yeah?” Hyukjae comes closer, until he’s a few feet from Donghae’s spread legs.
Donghae lets his head drop and soaks in the view before him. Hyukjae’s eyes are amused and the moon shines off his hair, casting him in shadows. He’s all sorts of beautiful and he makes Donghae’s heart flutter, that familiar ache when Hyukjae looks at him there.
“Is it true what they say about you?”
Any gentleness in his eyes condenses into ice and Donghae’s stomach drops a little. “What do they say about me?”
One hand on the back rest, the other on the handlebars, Donghae talks over the lump in his throat. “That you broke into Mr. Han’s store and resold his stuff in some other town. That you’re the one who vandalized the school gym. And that,” he stops to clear his throat, Hyukjae’s eyes staring into his. “You got Kim Seo-In pregnant and that’s why her parents sent her away.”
“You think it’s true?”
Donghae shakes his head, sucking in a breath when Hyukjae steps closer, Donghae’s knees brushing his legs.
“And what if I tell you it’s true?” he smirks.
“I wouldn’t believe you,” Donghae says, voice small and quiet.
“And what if,” Hyukjae stands in between Donghae’s legs, leaning forward until their breaths mingle, hips grazing. “I kiss you, right now?”
“I’d kiss you back.”
Hyukjae’s body tenses, surprise etched on his face.
Donghae leans forward and kisses Hyukjae.
Hyukjae’s hands are in the air, shaking slightly as Donghae’s soft lips move against his. Donghae’s mouth is gently insistent, coaxing Hyukjae to kiss him back. It’s a constant rhythm, wet lips pressing his, Donghae’s eyelashes fanning over his cheek.
Sighing, Hyukjae cups Donghae’s jaw with gloved hands, drawing Donghae’s lower lip in between his lips. Donghae gasps, heat intensifying in the pit of his stomach, and he arches himself towards Hyukjae’s chest.
Motivated by that small sound, Hyukjae slips his tongue in Donghae’s mouth, tasting beer, diet soda and maybe a little of himself. That thought makes him kiss Donghae harder, moaning against Donghae’s mouth, pulling him closer against his body.
Donghae has to remind himself to breathe, Hyukjae’s mouth too warm and too good on his to let him think clearly. He clutches the edges of Hyukjae’s leather jacket, pulling on Hyukjae making him stumble a bit. Regaining balance, Hyukjae places a hand on the seat next to Donghae to steady himself. Tongues pushing and pulling in each other’s mouths, it’s a dance they seem to get lost in, time and place erased and forgotten. Stomach twisting, Donghae bites down on Hyukjae’s lip when his other hand caresses Donghae’s hip, the contact burning through his jeans. Tugging on Hyukjae’s lip one last time, Donghae pulls away, oxygen recalculating through his lungs.
Breathless and dizzy, they stare at each other, too afraid to say anything.
Throat impossibly dry, the sensation of Hyukjae’s lips gone, Donghae licks his own lips, trying to get his voice to work.
Chest heaving, Hyukjae steps back. He clears his throat and stares down at his shoes, his hair falling into his eyes and Donghae feels compelled to push it back.
He does and Hyukjae jumps slightly at Donghae’s fingers running through his hair, looking up at him through his lashes. He looks so innocently confused, Donghae can only describe him as cute knowing Hyukjae would probably take offense to that.
“So, now what?” Donghae asks, smiling slightly.
Hyukjae shrugs, watching Donghae’s every move carefully.
“Shouldn’t you be home by now?” Hyukjae asks after a second.
“Probably,” Donghae agrees, tugging on Hyukjae’s jacket to inch him closer. “But I want to stay here.”
“Yeah?” Hyukjae follows the tug, his leather against Donghae’s skin.
“Yeah. I like it here,” Donghae breathes against Hyukjae’s lips.
“I like it here too” Hyukjae mumbles in a jumbled whisper right before they’re kissing again. But Donghae hears him and smiles into Hyukjae’s mouth.
^
Pairing: Hyukjae/Donghae
Rating: PG-13
Paving sidewalks
On early mornings, sun barely peeking out through dark clouds, Donghae walks on the road.
Sidewalk a few feet away, Donghae likes the sensation of asphalt beneath his shoes. The way his heels smooth over rough ground, giving him that slight bounce in his step.
Cars don’t pass by this road so early. The few that do, honk at him and Donghae is quick to sidestep towards the sidewalk, to safety. But Donghae likes how his mind wanders and connects with the road, so it’s not long till he he’s back off the sidewalk.
Trees lining all the way, Donghae beings to wander. Not off the course, no his feet keep going in a straight line, divided by white and yellow. It’s his mind wandering off on him, somewhere between the clouds and the green.
Donghae barely feels the vibration. He misses the way the loose pieces of road, pebbles ripped from it, shake and tremble. But subtly, he hears the soft roaring; it’s a purr in the distance.
It gets closer, and the vibrations become sharper, the purr becomes a skin crawling growl.
Heart beating out of his chest, he jumps onto the sidewalk and feels the air swoosh past his body as the motorcycle passes him by.
Donghae thinks he sees the driver’s head turn in his direction, lens covered eyes catching his for a second. But he can’t be sure. He never is.
Sighing, hand pressing his hand to his chest, Donghae takes a step down, back on the road. He walks the rest of the way, shuffling at the sidewalk’s border, trying to make out the sun in the distance.
^
Donghae pedals hard and fast, his bike bumping over unleveled concrete. It’s rare the occasion he decides to ride his bike to school, but sometimes he feels bad when he sees it collect dust in the garage. So some mornings he gives his feet a break and proves people true when they say you never forget how to grip the bars and work the breaks.
Kneeling, he fastens the lock around the bike rack along with the few lone bikes already there.
He’s about to get up when the ground shakes beneath him, the sound of an engine roaring in his ears.
The motorcycle halts to a stop, the engine is cut off abruptly. Still on the ground, Donghae watches as the helmet is removed, dark hair falling into darker eyes, the sharp angles of a boy sharpening an otherwise pretty face. The boy swings a leg over the motorcycle and stands gracefully; leather outlining from wider shoulders to a slim back.
Donghae eyes the motorcycle as the helmet is put away, trying not to stare at the way tight pockets hug the boy’s ass as he bends over the bike, and seeing something on the license plate he blurts out “I thought your name was Hyukjae.”
Hyukjae snaps straight, looking at Donghae over his shoulder. “It is” he says slowly, eyes darting to where Donghae is looking. “Eunhyuk’s a nickname.”
“Oh” is all Donghae says, fumbling with the lock on his bike.
Swinging his bag over his shoulder, Hyukjae smirks at him. “I wouldn’t bother with that” he tilts his chin towards Donghae’s old rusty bike, mocking him clearly.
By the time Donghae comes up with something to say, Hyukjae is striding into school, his jacket off and thrown over a shoulder in a lazy way, wrist upturned just right. Dusting off his knees, Donghae gets up and glares at his back.
^
It’s dark by the time Donghae walks out the school gates. He waves goodbye to his friends heading for the bus stop and looks back at the school once, saying a so long till Monday.
As a teenager, he should be full of a joyful glee at the arrival of the weekend. But while Donghae welcomes the rest, he wishes the weekend would pass by fast.
Not looking where he’s going, Donghae doesn’t see the bump in the sidewalk until he’s tripped, school books flying, palm scrapped.
Ignoring the sting in his hand, Donghae picks up his belongings. He reaches out for the last book, when a pair of shoes appears in his field of vision; book in a pair of glove covered hands.
Donghae looks up cautiously, words lodged in his throat along with his heart.
A few seconds of awkward silence, even more of uncomfortable stares, Donghae takes the book, his hands brushing leather. Catches himself wondering what the fabric might feel like against other parts of his body.
Piercing eyes turning away from him, Donghae blushes at his thoughts and manages to actually say something.
“Umm, thank you.”
Hyukjae stops, nods once, and turns around.
Donghae doesn’t waste time watching him walk away, simply crosses the street and walks. Besides, he’s watched Hyukjae walk away plenty of times; he can imagine it just fine.
^
Mondays and Thursdays, Sungmin doesn’t take the bus so Donghae walks on the sidewalk and has someone to keep his head out of the clouds.
They arrive at school and by the bike racks there is a tool box, black stained rags and a grunting, swearing, shirtless Hyukjae. Okay, he’s not shirtless; he’s wearing a white tank. But it’s practically see-through and drenched in sweat from the hot sun, the muscles of his back and arms outlined, so he might as well be.
Donghae tells Sungmin to go ahead, that he’ll catch up in homeroom. Sungmin shoots him a weird look when he sees him looking over at Hyukjae.
“Hopefully it’ll break down permanently” Sungmin snorts, eyes filled with disdain. “It’s people like him that give this school a bad name.”
“It can’t all be true” Donghae says, watching Hyukjae’s grease stained hands, his gloves peeking from his back pocket.
“Bet it is. Boys like that are trouble” there’s a warning in his voice, but Donghae ignores him, pushing Sungmin in the building’s direction. Sungmin narrows his eyes and leaves, throwing Hyukjae a glare as he enters.
Taking a breath, Donghae approaches where all the curse words are flying from. “Need help?”
Hyukjae looks up from the transmission, annoyed. “Unless you’ve got a gearbox stashed in your backpack, no. But when the chains on my tricycle break, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Scoffing, Donghae pushes Hyukjae aside gently and squats down next to him. Hyukjae looks at him, stunned.
Taking a look around the machine, toolbox at his feet, Donghae speaks when Hyukjae’s about to shove him away. “The problem is these new cylinders you’ve installed in the engine. They’re not compatible with this model, so they interfere with the transmission and the clutch doesn’t respond to the lever that releases the clutch spring. Plus your chain drive isn’t lubricated properly, so that’s why the transfer of power from the gearbox to the rear wheel doesn’t go smoothly. Which would explain why you can’t get to go fast enough.”
At a loss for words, Hyukjae stares at him; mouth hanging open like Donghae’s speaking Greek.
Donghae smirks, wiping his hands with a cloth. “I’d get a professional to take a look at it” he gets up, Hyukjae’s eyes scanning his body as Donghae rises. “My dad’s a mechanic.”
He grabs his bag and walks into school, letting Hyukjae be the one to watch Donghae walk away for once.
^
“Hey”
Donghae stops, fingernails digging into his palms inside his coat pockets. He turns slowly, trying to not seem eager. Which he’s not. At all.
“What?”
Leaning against his bike, Hyukjae’s hands rest on his thighs, the leather in contrast to the dark blue of his jeans. “I took your advice.”
“My dad said a guy from my school came in so I figured it was you.”
Hyukjae nods a few times, like to himself, thumbs taping against his thighs. “You going home?”
Donghae thinks of a sarcastic reply, but it’s not really his thing. “Yeah” he answers, intrigued.
“You want a ride?”
Donghae’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised. His heart skips a beat and he thinks he’s swallowed his gum. He can see Hyukjae maybe regret asking already, so he quickly nods. “Sure.”
Hyukjae looks taken aback, and exhales, his breath puffing in the night air. He hands Donghae his helmet and straddles the bike.
“Wait” Donghae says apprehensive. “You’ve only got one helmet.”
Hyukjae sighs and gets off the seat. He flips open the seat, and pulls out another helmet. Placing it on his head, he sits back down. “Happy?”
“I’ve never ridden on one before.”
Hyukjae stops adjusting the rearview mirrors, cranks the engine on and shifts forward. “I’ll go slow” he promises, something about his voice warming the pit of Donghae’s stomach.
Hands on Hyukjae’s shoulders, he swings a leg over the bike, the leather of the chair squishy beneath his pants. The heat from Hyukjae’s body hits Donghae’s, chest to back, leather on cotton, and he can feel the tension bubble up inside him, tightening in his abdomen. He’s glad Hyukjae can’t see the pink streaking his cheeks.
“Hold on” Hyukjae instructs over the engine and Donghae does so, wrapping his arms loosely around Hyukjae’s waist. “Tightly” Hyukjae warns just as he takes off.
The bike sprints forward and Donghae tightens his arms around Hyukjae, hands pressing into the leather of his jacket, thighs pressed against Hyukjae’s.
He hears Hyukjae gasp when his fingers dig into his stomach, but Donghae guesses it’s from his screaming in his ear.
^
A week. Not a hello or a hi. Not even a hey. No offers for a ride or an acknowledgment of Donghae’s existence. He did almost run him over one morning, but aside from that, nothing. Donghae has been biting his tongue for a week and is about to burst.
The hairs on his arms stand up at the looks he gets; the smoke in the air makes him choke. Donghae’s pretty sure if anyone finds out he’s been here they’ll be hell, but he doesn’t care.
Because he’s caught Hyukjae staring at him during class. Felt those deep eyes on the back of his neck as he walks down the halls. Knows he wasn’t the only affected one by that ride a week ago.
“What are you doing?”
Donghae turns, trying to look calm. “Bar hopping.”
Hyukjae chuckles, his boots making him slightly taller than Donghae than usual. “Well hop on over to some other bar. I don’t think this is your scene.”
“I come here all the time. Just never when you do” Donghae sticks his chin out and slaps a hand on the bar and sits. “My usual, Jonghyun.”
Hyukjae takes a seat next to him. “Ignore him, Seungho” he looks at the bartender pointedly “I’ll have my usual. Give him a Kool-aid or something.” He looks at Donghae, glaring at him and frowns. “On second thought, give him diet anything. This guy doesn’t need more sugar.”
The bartender, Seungho, laughs and heads to the other end of the bar.
“Okay, so I’ve never been here before,” Donghae admits once they’re alone.
“Why are you here?” Hyukjae asks, and there is this genuine curiosity in his eyes, but Donghae just shrugs.
“Here you go.” Seungho comes back, dropping a beer in front of Hyukjae, a glass and a can of diet coke in front of Donghae. He laughs and goes back to wiping the table.
“I like this song” Donghae says after sipping his drink. A soft guitar plays, accompanied by honey smooth male vocals singing about fallen stars and lost loves.
Hyukjae snorts. “I find that hard to believe.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Turning in his chair, Hyukjae leans an elbow on the counter. “You’re the kind that listens to the top radio hits. The hottest act on Music Wave or whatever it’s called, not some half ass pub singer no one listens to.”
“That’s not true” Donghae exclaims. Hyukjae looks skeptical. Donghae sighs. “Okay, so maybe some of that is true. But people aren’t just one dimensional. What’s on the outside doesn’t even begin to crack what’s inside. Most people just don’t take the time to knock to see if they can be let in.”
Hyukjae bites the rim of his bottle in mid sip, a drop of beer escapes the corner of his mouth and rolls down his cheek. “That’s some deep poetry shit there.”
Donghae rolls his eyes. “Now you’re going to say I can’t like poetry?”
“No, that I believe.”
Donghae laughs for some reason and Hyukjae sets the bottle down slowly, looking at him surprised. Donghae’s lips stretch into a smile that falters a bit when Hyukjae’s gaze lowers to his mouth.
In a surge of confidence, Donghae lifts his hand to Hyukjae’s face and wipes the drop of beer with his finger. Hyukjae’s skin is incredibly soft and warm and Donghae’s finger lingers.
Frozen, Hyukjae stares at him as Donghae looks at his finger curiously and brings it to his own mouth. He licks it, savoring beer and something that is distinctively Hyukjae.
And just to see what Hyukjae will do, he grabs his beer and drinks, despite not liking beer at all. Empty, Donghae sets it down, smirks and raises an eyebrow.
Hands griping the edge of the counter, Hyukjae swallows, the gulping sound clear over the male singer’s voice.
^
“I’m not letting you drive me home.”
“Who says I was offering?”
Donghae laughs in the cold air. It’s a late autumn night now, the moon in plain view.
Cocking an eyebrow, Hyukjae watches Donghae sit on his motorcycle and throw his head back towards the sky. “You should let me drive,” he says casually, watching the glare of the moon.
“Oh yeah?” Hyukjae comes closer, until he’s a few feet from Donghae’s spread legs.
Donghae lets his head drop and soaks in the view before him. Hyukjae’s eyes are amused and the moon shines off his hair, casting him in shadows. He’s all sorts of beautiful and he makes Donghae’s heart flutter, that familiar ache when Hyukjae looks at him there.
“Is it true what they say about you?”
Any gentleness in his eyes condenses into ice and Donghae’s stomach drops a little. “What do they say about me?”
One hand on the back rest, the other on the handlebars, Donghae talks over the lump in his throat. “That you broke into Mr. Han’s store and resold his stuff in some other town. That you’re the one who vandalized the school gym. And that,” he stops to clear his throat, Hyukjae’s eyes staring into his. “You got Kim Seo-In pregnant and that’s why her parents sent her away.”
“You think it’s true?”
Donghae shakes his head, sucking in a breath when Hyukjae steps closer, Donghae’s knees brushing his legs.
“And what if I tell you it’s true?” he smirks.
“I wouldn’t believe you,” Donghae says, voice small and quiet.
“And what if,” Hyukjae stands in between Donghae’s legs, leaning forward until their breaths mingle, hips grazing. “I kiss you, right now?”
“I’d kiss you back.”
Hyukjae’s body tenses, surprise etched on his face.
Donghae leans forward and kisses Hyukjae.
Hyukjae’s hands are in the air, shaking slightly as Donghae’s soft lips move against his. Donghae’s mouth is gently insistent, coaxing Hyukjae to kiss him back. It’s a constant rhythm, wet lips pressing his, Donghae’s eyelashes fanning over his cheek.
Sighing, Hyukjae cups Donghae’s jaw with gloved hands, drawing Donghae’s lower lip in between his lips. Donghae gasps, heat intensifying in the pit of his stomach, and he arches himself towards Hyukjae’s chest.
Motivated by that small sound, Hyukjae slips his tongue in Donghae’s mouth, tasting beer, diet soda and maybe a little of himself. That thought makes him kiss Donghae harder, moaning against Donghae’s mouth, pulling him closer against his body.
Donghae has to remind himself to breathe, Hyukjae’s mouth too warm and too good on his to let him think clearly. He clutches the edges of Hyukjae’s leather jacket, pulling on Hyukjae making him stumble a bit. Regaining balance, Hyukjae places a hand on the seat next to Donghae to steady himself. Tongues pushing and pulling in each other’s mouths, it’s a dance they seem to get lost in, time and place erased and forgotten. Stomach twisting, Donghae bites down on Hyukjae’s lip when his other hand caresses Donghae’s hip, the contact burning through his jeans. Tugging on Hyukjae’s lip one last time, Donghae pulls away, oxygen recalculating through his lungs.
Breathless and dizzy, they stare at each other, too afraid to say anything.
Throat impossibly dry, the sensation of Hyukjae’s lips gone, Donghae licks his own lips, trying to get his voice to work.
Chest heaving, Hyukjae steps back. He clears his throat and stares down at his shoes, his hair falling into his eyes and Donghae feels compelled to push it back.
He does and Hyukjae jumps slightly at Donghae’s fingers running through his hair, looking up at him through his lashes. He looks so innocently confused, Donghae can only describe him as cute knowing Hyukjae would probably take offense to that.
“So, now what?” Donghae asks, smiling slightly.
Hyukjae shrugs, watching Donghae’s every move carefully.
“Shouldn’t you be home by now?” Hyukjae asks after a second.
“Probably,” Donghae agrees, tugging on Hyukjae’s jacket to inch him closer. “But I want to stay here.”
“Yeah?” Hyukjae follows the tug, his leather against Donghae’s skin.
“Yeah. I like it here,” Donghae breathes against Hyukjae’s lips.
“I like it here too” Hyukjae mumbles in a jumbled whisper right before they’re kissing again. But Donghae hears him and smiles into Hyukjae’s mouth.
^