live goes on (2/3)
Title: life goes on (2/3)
Pairing: KyuHae
Rating: PG-13
Genre: drama, angst, romance, au
Word Count: 1700+
Kyuhyun’s POV
The bus ride was long and uneventful, and by the time they had completed their paperwork at the dorms, it was nightfall.
After staggering into Donghae’s single room and dumping all his belongings there, we headed to my room with a sufficiently lighter load.
There seemed to be an unspoken agreement that we were sticking together, at least for a little longer.
The first thing that I noticed upon entering was that there were two beds. I had a roommate. Crap. Why the hell didn’t I check these things beforehand? He’s going to hear me scream in the middle of the night and think I’m a lunatic.
Donghae’s voice shook me out of my thoughts. “Can I stay here for the night, Kyuhyun-ah? Your roommate probably won’t be coming tonight, considering he isn’t here already. And I’ll leave if he does come.”
A tidal wave of warm gratitude hit me. I knew he probably just wanted to make sure I was alright, but I could damn well swallow my pride and accept his offer, if it meant that I could sleep easy one more time.
“Of course, hyung. Feel at home. I’m going to take a quick shower.”
As I let the hot water run comfortingly through my hair and down my body, the knowledge that I was now released from my parents’ mental hold on me triggered an avalanche of kaleidoscopic emotion. The psychological freedom that I had ached for was finally in front of me, but now that it was in my hands, I didn’t know what to do with it. A part of me also mourned the permanent loss of a relationship that I had hoped and wanted to regain, to salvage the remains of what used to be a family.
Tears mixed with the running water as I realized that my parents were now too blinded by their hatred for one another to see me in front of them any more, needing me only to shield them during a crossfire.
Time to put that past me and move on. There’s a whole life ahead that awaits.
The most hilarious cross of surprise and chagrin greeted me as I walked out of the bathroom. What was wrong? Was I abnormally hairy? Did I have a soap bubble somewhere? I only had a towel on and-
Ah. I should put a shirt on.
Trying to hide my growing flush, I bent into my bag and pounced on the first piece of clothing my fingers touched and hurriedly struggled into it.
Or at least, attempted to.
Donghae’s hands were faster, blocking my arms and tracing the white outline of the scar that ran horizontally from just below my navel, curving around to the protruding joints of my spine. His expression was one of intense concentration, as if he were about to perform the most complex of neurosurgeries.
His cool fingertips blazed a path that ripped a ragged shudder out of me. Suddenly, his head snapped up and a steely determination came into his eyes. “How did you get this?”
My eyes quickly zeroed in on a very fascinatingly boring floral pattern on the carpet and mumbled, “I fell.”
Donghae made a noise of disbelief. “You fell. And what? Impaled yourself on a sword that was lying in wait for you upright? You have to do better than that.”
“A baseball hit our window and a glass shard sliced my waist?”
I glanced up to see his mouth curving downward in grim displeasure. “Hmm. Better. So it was a glass shard. How did the glass shard embed itself into your waist?”
This was starting to turn into some sort of CSI investigation gone wrong. A familiar feeling of helplessness slithered into my heart, and I felt an irrational anger at Donghae for being the cause. “Just drop it, will you? What does it matter to you? Just … leave me alone.”
His hard unrelenting eyes refused to release me. “It was your parents, wasn’t it. What did they do?”
I sighed in defeat, a bitter taste in my mouth as I recounted the event. “Our dining table was glass. My dad overturned it in a fit of anger during an argument with my mom. He didn’t see me standing there. That’s all there is to it. He didn’t do it on purpose - they never abused me or anything.”
I blinked in surprise at the sudden inferno that ignited in Donghae’s eyes. It looked out place on his usually placid face. His hands gripped my waist tighter, and he slowly exhaled.
Why was he so riled up? Did I prompt an unpleasant memory that he didn’t want to remember?
“I should probably put some clothes on, Donghae hyung. Do you mind …”
The tension in his muscles evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. “Sorry Kyuhyun-ah - of course. I was just … thinking.”
* * *
Donghae’s POV
Lights were turned off and goodnights were said. I waited until Kyuhyun’s breathing evened out before carefully climbing out of the bed and moving to stand beside him. His face was illuminated by the silver moonlight filtering through the window above his head, serene and unconcerned in the depths of sleep.
My fingers itched to stroke him - his hair, his cheek, his li-
Did I want to continue that thought? Probably wasn’t safe at the moment.
I smiled, a little in awe, as a thought occurred to me. Had it only been 24 hours since I met him?
Why was it that I already feel such a strong … attachment to him, a need to help shoulder the pain he was suffering, a compulsion to shake some much-needed sense into his parents? He has stuck a flag in and claimed a part of my heart, I realized. He’s already an essential part of me - an awareness that should have rung some warning bells and got me fleeing, but didn’t.
I jumped back a mile when Kyuhyun stirred. The tranquil features had transformed into discontentment etching his face, brows furrowed, sweat droplets forming on his forehead. A few seconds later saw him thrashing, mouth open in a silent scream. Eyes shot open and a strangled cry escaped around his fist.
Even as I gathered him in my arms and whispered whatever nonsense my brain supplied me, I realized that this sleep pattern was something he was used to. His parents had left a permanent scar in him - mental abuse was equal to, if not worse, than physical abuse of any sort. I felt a sudden and foreign urge to seek them out and make them pay for the acute and lasting damage they had inflicted on him.
He sat on the edge of his bed and clutched my shirt like a lifeline that tethered him to reality, sobs convulsing violently through his body. I continued my string of non-stop murmuring into his damp hair, powerless to help him in any other way. “Hush, it’s okay Kyuhyun-ah, it’s okay. I’m here. It’s okay.”
Gradually the sobs subsided into hitches and hiccups, and he detached himself from the vise-like hold on my shirt. The immeasurable gratitude that shone in his brown orbs as his gaze locked with mine rendered me speechless.
Words tried to battle their way out of my throat, and I could see Kyuhyun similarly struggling for something to say. It proved fruitless, because it seemed that the only effective form of communication left to us at the moment was our eyes. After an insightful and silent conversation, I lay him back in the bed and crawled in next to him, pulling him as close as he could get.
We fell asleep to the each other’s breathing.
* * *
Kyuhyun’s POV
I woke up to the sight of Donghae hyung watching me with tender eyes and a half-smile on his face. Again. Was there no way to escape death by humiliation? He always seems to catch me at my weakest and most vulnerable moments - when I sleep and when I wake up.
As memories of my reoccurring nightmare flooded me, I realized I was once again indebted to him for the open-armed comfort he willingly showered on me last night, without which more than a few minutes of undisturbed sleep would have been impossible. The knowledge that he wouldn’t be accompanying me tonight struck a panic attack within the depths of my gut.
I’m growing too dependent on him. How did I survive before? Was there a before?
Donghae hyung, as always, had a solution to everything, including problems that haven’t even manifested into words. “Kyuhyun-ah, I want you to sleep in my room, if you don’t mind? It’ll be cramped and we’ll probably constantly be in each other’s way, but if that’s alright, could you stay with me?”
I didn’t understand. Why would he want to be saddled with me, when I’m more than likely to wake him up every night, at least until I perfect a new form of stifling any noises I make. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, hyung. Unless you look forward to a disrupted sleep every single night for the rest of the year. You’ll regret it when you start having exams and late nights. You’re not obliged to do anything of the sort, if that’s what you’re worried about, and I don’t need your pity. I’ll manage, hyung.” I hoped I’d convinced him, because I had yet to assure myself.
Donghae hyung, however, had different ideas. “I should be clear too. You will not be getting one iota of pity - I expect you to do your share of the work and chores as an equal roommate. What I am offering you is not an obligation but friendship. Friends are always there for each other in times of need, and right now, you need me - it’s as simple as that.”
He grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes. “And I won’t be the only one making adjustments, Kyuhyun-ah. Be prepared to adapt to a lifestyle that will clash so completely with yours that you might be the one begging to move back to this room. So, let’s get your stuff moved shall we?”
With that he zipped up my still unpacked bag and walked toward the door. “You can’t exactly live in the same clothes for the rest of the year now, can you Kyuhyun?”
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part3
Pairing: KyuHae
Rating: PG-13
Genre: drama, angst, romance, au
Word Count: 1700+
Kyuhyun’s POV
The bus ride was long and uneventful, and by the time they had completed their paperwork at the dorms, it was nightfall.
After staggering into Donghae’s single room and dumping all his belongings there, we headed to my room with a sufficiently lighter load.
There seemed to be an unspoken agreement that we were sticking together, at least for a little longer.
The first thing that I noticed upon entering was that there were two beds. I had a roommate. Crap. Why the hell didn’t I check these things beforehand? He’s going to hear me scream in the middle of the night and think I’m a lunatic.
Donghae’s voice shook me out of my thoughts. “Can I stay here for the night, Kyuhyun-ah? Your roommate probably won’t be coming tonight, considering he isn’t here already. And I’ll leave if he does come.”
A tidal wave of warm gratitude hit me. I knew he probably just wanted to make sure I was alright, but I could damn well swallow my pride and accept his offer, if it meant that I could sleep easy one more time.
“Of course, hyung. Feel at home. I’m going to take a quick shower.”
As I let the hot water run comfortingly through my hair and down my body, the knowledge that I was now released from my parents’ mental hold on me triggered an avalanche of kaleidoscopic emotion. The psychological freedom that I had ached for was finally in front of me, but now that it was in my hands, I didn’t know what to do with it. A part of me also mourned the permanent loss of a relationship that I had hoped and wanted to regain, to salvage the remains of what used to be a family.
Tears mixed with the running water as I realized that my parents were now too blinded by their hatred for one another to see me in front of them any more, needing me only to shield them during a crossfire.
Time to put that past me and move on. There’s a whole life ahead that awaits.
The most hilarious cross of surprise and chagrin greeted me as I walked out of the bathroom. What was wrong? Was I abnormally hairy? Did I have a soap bubble somewhere? I only had a towel on and-
Ah. I should put a shirt on.
Trying to hide my growing flush, I bent into my bag and pounced on the first piece of clothing my fingers touched and hurriedly struggled into it.
Or at least, attempted to.
Donghae’s hands were faster, blocking my arms and tracing the white outline of the scar that ran horizontally from just below my navel, curving around to the protruding joints of my spine. His expression was one of intense concentration, as if he were about to perform the most complex of neurosurgeries.
His cool fingertips blazed a path that ripped a ragged shudder out of me. Suddenly, his head snapped up and a steely determination came into his eyes. “How did you get this?”
My eyes quickly zeroed in on a very fascinatingly boring floral pattern on the carpet and mumbled, “I fell.”
Donghae made a noise of disbelief. “You fell. And what? Impaled yourself on a sword that was lying in wait for you upright? You have to do better than that.”
“A baseball hit our window and a glass shard sliced my waist?”
I glanced up to see his mouth curving downward in grim displeasure. “Hmm. Better. So it was a glass shard. How did the glass shard embed itself into your waist?”
This was starting to turn into some sort of CSI investigation gone wrong. A familiar feeling of helplessness slithered into my heart, and I felt an irrational anger at Donghae for being the cause. “Just drop it, will you? What does it matter to you? Just … leave me alone.”
His hard unrelenting eyes refused to release me. “It was your parents, wasn’t it. What did they do?”
I sighed in defeat, a bitter taste in my mouth as I recounted the event. “Our dining table was glass. My dad overturned it in a fit of anger during an argument with my mom. He didn’t see me standing there. That’s all there is to it. He didn’t do it on purpose - they never abused me or anything.”
I blinked in surprise at the sudden inferno that ignited in Donghae’s eyes. It looked out place on his usually placid face. His hands gripped my waist tighter, and he slowly exhaled.
Why was he so riled up? Did I prompt an unpleasant memory that he didn’t want to remember?
“I should probably put some clothes on, Donghae hyung. Do you mind …”
The tension in his muscles evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. “Sorry Kyuhyun-ah - of course. I was just … thinking.”
* * *
Donghae’s POV
Lights were turned off and goodnights were said. I waited until Kyuhyun’s breathing evened out before carefully climbing out of the bed and moving to stand beside him. His face was illuminated by the silver moonlight filtering through the window above his head, serene and unconcerned in the depths of sleep.
My fingers itched to stroke him - his hair, his cheek, his li-
Did I want to continue that thought? Probably wasn’t safe at the moment.
I smiled, a little in awe, as a thought occurred to me. Had it only been 24 hours since I met him?
Why was it that I already feel such a strong … attachment to him, a need to help shoulder the pain he was suffering, a compulsion to shake some much-needed sense into his parents? He has stuck a flag in and claimed a part of my heart, I realized. He’s already an essential part of me - an awareness that should have rung some warning bells and got me fleeing, but didn’t.
I jumped back a mile when Kyuhyun stirred. The tranquil features had transformed into discontentment etching his face, brows furrowed, sweat droplets forming on his forehead. A few seconds later saw him thrashing, mouth open in a silent scream. Eyes shot open and a strangled cry escaped around his fist.
Even as I gathered him in my arms and whispered whatever nonsense my brain supplied me, I realized that this sleep pattern was something he was used to. His parents had left a permanent scar in him - mental abuse was equal to, if not worse, than physical abuse of any sort. I felt a sudden and foreign urge to seek them out and make them pay for the acute and lasting damage they had inflicted on him.
He sat on the edge of his bed and clutched my shirt like a lifeline that tethered him to reality, sobs convulsing violently through his body. I continued my string of non-stop murmuring into his damp hair, powerless to help him in any other way. “Hush, it’s okay Kyuhyun-ah, it’s okay. I’m here. It’s okay.”
Gradually the sobs subsided into hitches and hiccups, and he detached himself from the vise-like hold on my shirt. The immeasurable gratitude that shone in his brown orbs as his gaze locked with mine rendered me speechless.
Words tried to battle their way out of my throat, and I could see Kyuhyun similarly struggling for something to say. It proved fruitless, because it seemed that the only effective form of communication left to us at the moment was our eyes. After an insightful and silent conversation, I lay him back in the bed and crawled in next to him, pulling him as close as he could get.
We fell asleep to the each other’s breathing.
* * *
Kyuhyun’s POV
I woke up to the sight of Donghae hyung watching me with tender eyes and a half-smile on his face. Again. Was there no way to escape death by humiliation? He always seems to catch me at my weakest and most vulnerable moments - when I sleep and when I wake up.
As memories of my reoccurring nightmare flooded me, I realized I was once again indebted to him for the open-armed comfort he willingly showered on me last night, without which more than a few minutes of undisturbed sleep would have been impossible. The knowledge that he wouldn’t be accompanying me tonight struck a panic attack within the depths of my gut.
I’m growing too dependent on him. How did I survive before? Was there a before?
Donghae hyung, as always, had a solution to everything, including problems that haven’t even manifested into words. “Kyuhyun-ah, I want you to sleep in my room, if you don’t mind? It’ll be cramped and we’ll probably constantly be in each other’s way, but if that’s alright, could you stay with me?”
I didn’t understand. Why would he want to be saddled with me, when I’m more than likely to wake him up every night, at least until I perfect a new form of stifling any noises I make. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, hyung. Unless you look forward to a disrupted sleep every single night for the rest of the year. You’ll regret it when you start having exams and late nights. You’re not obliged to do anything of the sort, if that’s what you’re worried about, and I don’t need your pity. I’ll manage, hyung.” I hoped I’d convinced him, because I had yet to assure myself.
Donghae hyung, however, had different ideas. “I should be clear too. You will not be getting one iota of pity - I expect you to do your share of the work and chores as an equal roommate. What I am offering you is not an obligation but friendship. Friends are always there for each other in times of need, and right now, you need me - it’s as simple as that.”
He grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes. “And I won’t be the only one making adjustments, Kyuhyun-ah. Be prepared to adapt to a lifestyle that will clash so completely with yours that you might be the one begging to move back to this room. So, let’s get your stuff moved shall we?”
With that he zipped up my still unpacked bag and walked toward the door. “You can’t exactly live in the same clothes for the rest of the year now, can you Kyuhyun?”
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part3