(no subject)
Title: Of Folded Stars and Faded Hearts [oneshot]
Characters/Pairings: Hyukjae/Donghae (angel!Hae)
Rating: PG13
Genre(s): Romance, Fluff, AU, slight!Highschool, slight!Angst
Author's Note: For Suju Holiday Fic Exchange. I have no idea how I came up with this using that prompt tbh ;A; Oh, and thanks to my beta lunaticsonhigh. Love ya, bitch.
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Fifty. Fifty-one. Fifty-two.
He folded and folded, the buzzing of the air-conditioner and slight cackle of paper filling the room. He was alone, though it would be considered the default setting by now. His parents had found his sickness troublesome, saying they were much too busy earning money for his hospital bills to keep him company. Hyukjae didn’t mind, though. He preferred being alone.
The hospital room had become his sanctuary, with its odd smell and eerie silence. The stiff bed, beeping monitors and hustle and bustle of doctors, nurses and patients that go muted behind closed doors provided him comfort. It was the world he knew, the world he thought he belonged to. Outside, things were much too harsh, too hurried. He wanted silence, and he wanted to think. He wasn’t suited to the fast-paced walking or the honking of horns or the constant competition.
Hyukjae had always been the odd one in the family. He saw things differently, preferred apples to oranges, abstract to concrete. There was a time he’d sit on the roof, almost slipping off the slope yet paid it no attention and decided that grabbing at colors and auras he was sure were there was much more important. His hands would reach out to the night sky, wanting to grasp the colors and the shapes only he could see, but he couldn’t. Hyukjae cried and cried, and cried so loudly, his parents almost had a heart attack when they found him.
His relatives decided it best their children be kept away from Hyukjae. No one visited him, but it was okay. He liked the silence.
He folded and folded.
Eighty-five. Eighty-Six. Eighty-seven.
Hyukjae groaned as he watched blood trickle down his slim finger, mumbling under his breath what sounded like a curse to all paper cuts in the world.
So he reached across the bed to the side table, only to knock over the roll of paper towels and then mumbled under his breath what sounded like a curse to all paper towels in the world.
“What are you doing?”
If Hyukjae was surprised to see a blonde towering over his bed dressed in all-white, he didn’t show it.
“Folding.” He answered, looking the man straight in the eye and couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. His features were soft, skin smooth and eyes a clear blue.
The man smiled, moving to sit and the bed dipped slightly under his weight. He lifted a hand to Hyukjae’s bleeding finger, hovering above it as if asking for permission. Hyukjae nodded and the man enclosed the wounded finger with his own.
The bleeding stopped.
“Donghae.” He said and the sound filled the room in a melody, “My name is Donghae.”
If he was surprised to see the pure white wings that extended from Donghae’s back, he didn’t show it.
Hyukjae smiled-it was the first in a while.
He folded and folded.
Ninety-eight. Ninety-nine. One hundred.
Donghae held the origami carefully in his hands, admiring the form of each one. His blond hair fell slightly over his eyes as he counted the folded pieces of paper with a hushed tone. Surely, there were a hundred and he took a moment to admire Hyukjae’s diligence as he examined each artwork, every single one folded neatly and perfectly.
The redhead lay spent on the bed, his arms stretched out in surrender.
One hundred. He sighed tiredly, an odd disappointment etched in his voice. He’d finally reached a hundred, yet…Hyukjae abruptly sat up and stared at the papers, narrowing his eyes at them in a criticizing glare.They weren’t enough.
Donghae once asked him, ‘Why stars?’ as he watched the redhead fold with his lips jut out and eyebrows scrunched together.
‘I want to touch them.’ Hyukjae would answer, ‘pluck them out of the sky.’
‘Why so many?’
Hyukjae didn’t reply after that, and kept folding.
But now that he was done…Hyukjae didn’t like it. It was odd, because a few days ago, he was so set on finishing but now all he could think about was to keep folding.
He eyed the stack of papers on the desk across his bed that the nurse dropped by every morning and pointed at it. “Donghae~” he almost whined.
“You are making more?” the blonde chuckled and walked to the table, his feathers fluttering softly as his wings extended in the small space. Hyukjae admired Donghae’s back, watching how the feathers shined different shades of blue and pink and violet in the light. Honestly, he could’ve gotten the papers himself since his condition wasn’t so bad today, but he liked looking at Donghae’s wings. They reminded him of the beauty only he could see-him and no one else.
With a determined huff, Hyukjae quickly took the papers from Donghae’s hands as he held them out.
He folded and folded.
One hundred fifty-one. One hundred fifty-two. One hundred fifty-three.
Hyukjae mumbled a thank you to the nurse as she dropped by for his daily check-up. She was young and pretty, fair skinned and had a nice smile. On usual days, he didn’t really mind her and sometimes, even had a soft spot for her since she was the only visitor he didn’t shoo away or ignore completely.
But today, his eye twitched at how she was so obviously ogling Donghae. She’d send the blonde smiles in between her tasks, glancing his way several times more than necessary and lingering on the wrong side of the bed. Hyukjae didn’t blame her though; Donghae really was quite the eye candy, especially with his handsome features that bordered on cute and how he’d politely smile back which got her blushing, stuttering and stumbling out the room. He got the feeling Donghae could make anyone adore him.
Hyukjae frowned, crossing his arms in a huff.
“How come she can see you?”
Donghae smiled, amused at how the brunette seethed in jealousy. “I am not invisible, Hyukjae.”
“Well usually, you are.”
Donghae eyed the pieces of half-folded paper that lay forgotten beside the brunette.
“Well today, I am not.”
“How come?”
The angel smiled and shrugged, making the brunette frown.
“She can’t see your wings, can she?”
“She cannot.”
“Good.” And Hyukjae went back to folding.
One hundred eighty-seven. One hundred eighty-eight. One hundred eighty-nine.
“Move around any more, and the bed will break.”
Donghae stopped shifting beside Hyukjae and looked at him with wide eyes. “R-really?”
Hyukjae laughed (he forgot he knew how) and ruffled his hair, “No. But seriously, stop it. You’re making me dizzy with all the creaking.”
Donghae sunk into his pillow, embarrassed. They were squeezed together on Hyukjae’s small hospital bed, Donghae’s feathers constantly getting into the other’s face, which at first tickled, but after a while was just plain annoying. The angel kept shifting, trying to position himself in a way that he wouldn’t shove his wings into Hyukjae’s mouth but ended up making the bed creak, taking most of the blanket and nearly knocking down his IV.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he said, trying to get up.
But Hyukjae grabbed his shoulders and brought him down so their bodies faced each other.
“There.” He looked over at the now unburdened wings that spread gratefully and slowly blanketed their owner. “Much better.”
Donghae gulped, never having been this close to Hyukjae’s face before. “A-alright.”
“You should’ve just faced me in the first place,” he said, eyes staring into Donghae’s blue ones. “Does it still hurt?”
“I am alright. Thank you for letting me stay here, Hyukjae.”
Donghae had come with an aching body that day and quite surprisingly, he wouldn't tell Hyukjae why. After numerous interrogations and still not getting anything, the brunette decided to just let the angel crash on his bed because he looked really worn out with his usually clear blue eyes muddled and pure white feathers faded.
“Hyukjae?”
“Yes?”
“Happy Birthday.”
Hyukjae smiled and circled his arms around Donghae’s neck, burying his nose in his hair.
“Thank you.”
They spoke in hushed whispers all night, fingers unconsciously tangling together. Hyukjae would draw patterns on Donghae’s cheek, mesmerized by the smooth skin and electricity he felt travel from the tip of his fingertips to the tips of his toes. Donghae would tap the skin right above Hyukjae’s heart with a shy finger, going with the slow, steady beat.
Donghae spoke of blue skies, vibrant flowers that floated on the surface, calm oceans and towering trees in green forests, his voice at first reluctant but grew stronger as he went on. His eyes lit up, describing in detail the clouds that decorated the walls and the birds that soared through them with vibrant feathers in colors not defined by the rainbow. He smiled as he told of the fishes and their quaint tails, and in that smile, Hyukjae could see all the wonders the angel was telling him, and more.
He was about to ask about the stars when he saw Donghae’s eyelids slowly droop and he was reminded of just how exhausted the angel was.
So he got up, reached for paper and watched Donghae’s chest rise and fall as he folded.
Two hundred ten. Two hundred eleven. Two hundred twelve.
It was no secret that Hyukjae disliked having visitors. It was awkward how they try to make a conversation and act as if they weren’t forced to visit either by parents or courtesy, and that Hyukjae didn’t weird them out just a bit. Now that Donghae was around and his hospital room was strewn with mounds of paper stars, relatives were starting to wonder if he was slowly losing his mind because folding that many was not normal. Plus he kept talking to someone who just wasn’t there. As far as they were concerned, Donghae was invisible.
But there was one person Hyukjae didn’t mind visiting him and that was Hyoyeon.
They were best friends, no dramatic story of unrequited love or childhood-turned-lover sort of thing. She was one of the few people Hyukjae opened up to, he wasn’t afraid of what she’d think of him or if she’d be creeped out by what goes on in his head. Pretty and friendly, she was in fact one of the most popular people in school but when the student population found out about her friendship with Hyukjae, the weirdo, they started either avoiding her or asking her to help prank him.
Hyoyeon was cool about it though. She smiled, gave them the finger then an uppercut to the jaw. Each. They never bothered her again.
“Hey, dork.” She placed a basket of strawberries on the desk, “how’s it goi-oh shit, who gave the postman the wrong address?”
Hyoyeon stared at the number of paper stars that littered Hyukjae’s bed, tables and floor.
Hyukjae rolled his eyes, “Thanks for the strawberries, Hyo.”
She waved off his thanks and bent down to pick up a star by her shoe. “You’re seriously not over the origami phase? I thought you were stopping at a hundred?” She scanned the room, “There must be at least double that here!”
Hyukjae shrugged, “Wasn’t enough.”
Hyoyeon raised an eyebrow, but let it slip and proceeded to filling Hyukjae in on all the gossip and drama that’s been going on in school since her last visit. She had a lot of stories, funny ones like how Junsu tripped over his own soccer ball last week (‘I called that, I so called that.’ Hyukjae would say) and how the cafeteria food was so bad one day that Heechul bitchslapped the lunch lady for feeding him food that would ruin his skin.
She was sad as well, telling him about how bad her grades were getting and how she missed sticking gum under tables and switching bathroom signs just to piss people off with him. Hyukjae hummed, nodded, and chuckled at the right times, wanting for once to go back to school like normal and not stay kempt up in the hospital.
But the wish was gone as soon as it came. When Hyoyeon left with a shout for him to get better and a slight smack on the back of his head almost an hour later, Donghae slipped in through the window as soon as the door clicked close and all thoughts of leaving vanished.
“You don’t have to stay up on the roof whenever she visits, you know.” Hyukjae smiles as he sees the angel, patting the empty spot beside him. “She can’t see you anyway, right?”
“I believe you would be more comfortable if I were not present, Hyukjae.” Donghae climbed up on the bed.
“Why would you think that?”
“I just do.”
Hyukjae stopped his folding to look up at the blonde who refused to look back, fidgeting in his seat and playing with his feathers.
“You’re not jealous, are you?” He poked him with his foot, grinning cheekily.
Donghae pouted and move to get up from bed. Laughing, Hyukjae pulled him back by the wing, causing the angel to yelp. “Alright, alright. I was just kidding, big baby.”
“It is not a very funny joke, Hyukjae.” Donghae said, but sat back down anyway, automatically handing Hyukjae paper.
Hyukjae smiled, patted his cheek and went back to folding as he listened to Donghae’s stories that were slowly starting to sound like places he dreamt of at night.
Two hundred ninety-four. Two hundred ninety-five. Two hundred ninety-six.
It was one of the few days Hyukjae was outside of his room. The weather was cold and leaves were falling one by one, he wrapped his jacket around him more tightly and shivered.
“Are you sure about this, Hyukjae? You look cold.”
Hyukjae smiled and tugged Donghae’s hand, patting the space next to him. “Sit down and I won’t feel cold anymore.” The blonde had obviously been jumpy about going outside that day, pacing around the bench and constantly stealing looks at the sky. Hyukjae thought Donghae looked pensive, almost nervous, and it was odd for the usual calm and smiley boy.
“You okay? Relax, we already got permission from the doctor.”
The angel opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, thinking. “Why did you want to go outside today, Hyukjae?”
Hyukjae shrugged, “No reason.”
“But don’t you want to fold?”
He turned to Donghae with a sly smile. “My jacket isn’t oversized for nothing.” He pulled out stacks of paper from the mysterious chambers of his coat and grinned. Donghae couldn’t help but chuckle and sat beside him.
“You are cute.”
“Look who’s talking.” Hyukjae said, going through his paper and choosing which one he wanted to start with. When he didn’t hear a reply from Donghae, he looked to his side and found him fiddling with his fingers.
“I-I.,.am not…c-cute.”
Hyukjae grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Are you blushing?” He poked Donghae’s pink cheek, and the angel’s wings fluttered nervously in response.
“No…you are seeing things, Hyukjae.” Donghae mumbled with his head down low.
“You’re right. My bad.” Hyukjae saw the blonde relax and added, “Cutie.”
Donghae flushed and pouted at the laughing brunette. “Hyukjae~ Do not say that please! It is embarrassing.” Hyukjae couldn’t control his laughter; Donghae pouting with his brows furrowed and his wings fluttering cutely behind him was just too much.
Seeing Hyukjae laugh so much, Donghae’s face brightened which only made Hyukjae laugh even more. When the angel (finally) realized why, he pouted again and Hyukjae threw a fit.
“Hyukjae~”
“Alright,” He took a deep breath, “alright. I’m done.” Though there was still an obvious smile on his lips. Donghae really was cute. “Just…tell me about your place again.” He picked up paper that fell on the ground during his laughing fit, having already decided that Donghae’s voice was the best music he could listen to while folding.
“Oh, but I…”
Hyukjae raised an eyebrow at him, “You…?”
“I would like to hear more about you as well.”
“Me?”
“Yes,” Donghae smiled brightly, “you, Hyukjae.”
Hyukjae frowned, “there’s nothing special about the world I live in, Donghae.”
The blonde’s face fell, “But-“
“Nothing special about humans. Please…just…” He didn’t notice the paper already crumpled in his fist.
Donghae slowly brought his hands to Hyukjae’s face, lifting his head to look him in the eyes, “Okay. Okay, I won’t ask you to anymore.” Hyukjae stared into Donghae’s clear blue orbs, slowly mirroring the smile on the angel’s lips. “But I have no desire to talk about my hometown today. Would you care to teach me how to make paper stars instead?”
Hyukjae nodded, handing Donghae a piece. “Okay, but only for today.” Because you’re so cute.
Donghae smiled as Hyukjae patiently taught him how to make stars, the wind carrying his voice.
It’s been a while since Hyukjae was outside. He was afraid of the outside. Outside was harsh, abusive and painful. But with Donghae and his smiles and his feathers, he didn’t really mind. He watched the autumn fall into piles and the birds make their nests.
But he didn’t see the limp in Donghae’s step; he didn’t see the sadness in Donghae’s eyes and the feathers that slowly fell of his majestic wings.
Instead, he folded and folded.
Three hundred fifty-two. Three hundred fifty-three. Three hundred fifty-four.
It was the first time in months that Hyukjae heard those voices behind his doors. He stopped folding, frozen with paper in his hands for a while but continued on, certain that they would not come in.
They never did.
“What is the matter, Hyukjae?”
Just as he was about to dismiss it as nothing, the door slammed open. Both Donghae and Hyukjae stared at it with wide eyes. They heard a faint voice calling ‘Henry!’ down the hallway.
There, clad in his jumpers and lollipop tucked into his cheeks, stood Hyukjae’s baby cousin.
Neither Donghae nor Hyukjae moved a muscle, both reindeers in headlights at Henry’s sudden entrance.
Henry stared curiously into the room, scanning it from corner to corner, but seemingly ignoring Hyukjae who sat on the bed. Hyukjae held his breath, not sure how to face a relative, or anyone from his family for that matter, even if it was Henry, the baby he’d cradled in his arms when they’d both been left at home. He didn’t know what to say but more importantly, he didn’t want to say anything.
Hyukjae quietly turned his attention back to the papers that littered his lap, not wanting any contact with the family that had abandoned him.
Donghae, on the other hand, watched Henry take cautious steps into the room. He watched as the boy’s eyes slowly landed on him, and then widen.
“You’re…”
Donghae chuckled, “Hello. You must be Henry.”
Henry took the lollipop out of his mouth with a pop, his eyes wide and curious, glancing at the angel’s wings. “Yes. And you must be…Donghae.”
“Yes. I am Donghae.” He beamed, eyes twinkling.
With a gasp and an I knew it!, Henry rushed out of the room, almost tripping over his own feet. He slammed the door closed, shouting for his mother to listen to him.
Donghae turned his attention back to Hyukjae who looked as if he were deaf to their conversation.
“Won’t you say hi?”
“No.” Hyukjae answered shortly.
Donghae smiled sadly as he listened to Henry’s story to his mother, trying to convince her that his Hyukjae hyung wasn’t as bad as everyone said he was, that he wasn’t crazy and that Donghae really did exist.
‘Don’t talk about him anymore, Henry.’ Came his mother’s reply. ‘Please. Let’s just go home.’
Four hundred twelve. Four hundred thirteen. Four hundred fourteen.
The night was cold and the breeze was harsh against the tiles of the roof. Donghae sat with his knees huddled and his wings enveloping him for warmth. He sighed.
Hyukjae wanted to be alone today. His meds made him cranky, and he ended up snapping at Donghae for touching one of his stars.
“Don’t touch them!”
“I…I just wanted to…”
“Don’t fucking touch them, Donghae. They’re not enough…too few…”
“Hyukjae, what-“
“What does it matter to you? You’ll leave me just like the rest of them, won’t you? I’ll never be able to touch the stars with you, won’t I? Because you’re…and I’m…”
“What are you-“
“Leave me alone, Donghae. I need to fold…I need some more…”
“Let me help you.”
“No! Just go!”
“Hyukjae…”
“Go!”
Donghae sighed, rubbing a hand over his heart. It was painful when Hyukjae said things like that, throbbing when he didn’t have Hyukjae by his side. Donghae knew he was suffering, but Donghae didn’t know why. Why Hyukjae wanted to fold so many stars, why he didn’t want to stop no matter what.
But Donghae did not force answers, did not demand explanation because it was not his duty to do so.
The angel smiled sadly, looking up at the night sky and the stars Hyukjae wanted so badly to reach and thought that maybe he cared about his human a bit too much.
Four hundred fifty-two. Four hundred fifty-three. Four hundred fifty-four.
“Why didn’t you take it?” Donghae was not permitted to feel anger or frustration, but if he were, he knew it felt something like this. “Why didn’t you take the heart donor’s offer?”
Hyukjae ignored him, keeping his eyes on the paper in his hands.
“It was your chance! Do you not want your life to go back to normal? Do you not want to return home? You could have gotten out of here, Hyukjae. You would be cured! You could go back to school, have lunch with Hyoyeon and play pranks on Junsu and made fun of Heechul like you used to. Do you not want that?”
It took many long months for Donghae to browse through the large amount of souls that were entering the Gate and find one that would match Hyukjae’s heart yet here is his human, stubbornly refusing the donation with a stiff nod.
“I’m afraid.” Hyukjae whispered.
“What?”
“I’m afraid.” He said louder, gaining confidence as he stared Donghae in the eye. “I don't want a new heart. I don’t want to heal.”
“But-“
“Donghae,” He grabbed his hand, placing it firmly on his chest. “This new heart…I’m afraid of it. It won’t be the same. Would it beat the way mine does?“ Hyukjae’s eyes bore deep into Donghae’s. Would I see you again? Would you leave my side?
Donghae could feel his cheeks warming, “And how does your heart beat?”
Hyukjae smiled, closing his eyes as he listened to the soft drumming. “Strong and loud, almost painful. Erratic and exciting and wonderful-like I’m not sick at all. Especially when…” He inched closer, warm breath wafting over Donghae’s lips.
“When…?”
Hyukjae leaned forward and their lips connected in a sweet, soothing kiss. Donghae trembled at the touch, unsure of the emotions washing over him. They were nothing like what Leeteuk hyung ever taught him. These emotions were strong and passionate and dizzying that Donghae could only feel the pounding of his heart and the soft lips against his.
Too soon, Hyukjae pulled back and leaned his forehead against Donghae’s, panting slightly. “I’d rather…” He whispered, eyes closed.
Donghae felt Hyukjae’s heart beat loudly against his fingertips, pounding under his delicate palm.
“…it beat like this.” Hyukjae finished.
Please, let me stay by your side.
Donghae could only nod.
Four hundred seventy-five. Four hundred seventy-six. Four hundred seventy-seven.
Hyukjae wasn’t sure if he was angry with the nurse for ruining his good mood from last night or for smiling so much when he didn’t find her news of his condition’s apparent improvement very enlightening. Actually, he wasn’t just angry. He was fucking pissed.
‘It’s a miracle, Hyukjae!’ she says, ‘your heart has suddenly gone stable and all the doctors were so shocked but results don’t lie. You’ll be out of here by at least next week! Isn’t that great?’
It didn’t look so great when she ran out the door as scissors were thrown at her face, missing by a hair.
He thought he’d already solved this by declining that heart donor.
He didn’t want to get out of here. He didn’t want to face his sorry excuse of a family who’d abandoned him at the slightest problem and spread word of his mentality as if they understood. He didn’t want to go back to school where people would stuff him in a locker and carve profanities on his desk. He didn’t want to get better, dammit.
He just wanted to stay here with Donghae, was that too much to ask?
Then it hit him.
He didn’t have to worry about heart donors or miracle recoveries.
Why was he even stressing over this? The answer was so simple.
If Donghae couldn’t go to him, then Hyukjae would go to him instead.
Hyukjae eyed the scissors he’d thrown at the nurse, glinting silver in the moonlight and sprawled out on the tiled floor.
He stood and grabbed it with shaking fingers.
The answer was so simple.
But first…
.
.
.
That night, Donghae didn’t meet Hyukjae in the hospital room like he always did. Instead, he flew as fast as his wings could take him to the Main House soon as he caught whiff of what his human had done, but not before paying a visit to a certain girl on earth.
Donghae had made up his mind, he thought as amidst his flapping wings, he was ready to sacrifice what he had to keep Hyukjae by his side and allowed himself to be selfish just this once, and keep Hyukjae here instead of prolonging his life.
He could only hope Hyoyeon, the only person who seemed to care the slightest about Hyukjae, would forgive him.
Four hundred ninety-seven. Four hundred ninety-eight. Four hundred ninety-nine.
Hyukjae spun round and round, his arms spread out and head tilted to the multi-colored sky. The grass felt moist under his bare feet, just the right amount of cold wind on his skin and birds’ singsong chirping in the distance. He smiled widely.
“This is great.”
“Are you happy, Hyukjae?” Donghae sat on the grass with knees bent and eyes following Hyukjae’s every movement.
Hyukjae twirled once more, inhaling the sweet scent of his surroundings-it smelled like Donghae. “Never been happier.”
“Don’t you miss your stars?”
“Not as much as I miss your wings.” He stopped gawking at his surroundings to stare at the emptiness of Donghae’s back. “Look, I could try and talk to them. There has to be another way-”
Donghae stood up and caught Hyukjae’s wrist, “I am alright, really.” He went behind Hyukjae and wrapped his arms on his waist, his way of calming Hyukjae’s guilt. “If this is the price I need to pay to have you here with me, then so be it.”
“I want to see your back, Donghae.”
Hands tightened around his waist in protest.
“Let me see it.”
With a sigh, Donghae let go and Hyukjae walked behind him. His hand hovered above the scars of brutal punishment the Council decided on his angel. They were still red from the ripping of wings, and he could still hear the echo of Donghae’s cry in his ears that day. He knew there were going to be consequences for his entrance to their realm, he knew it, but he didn’t know it would be this…
“I’m sorry.” He felt tears coming on, and gulped. “I’m so sorry, Donghae. I just…I just really wanted to be with you already.”
Donghae’s touch was gentle as he turned around and cupped Hyukjae’s cheek, “Do not cry, Hyukjae. To have you go down there instead and suffer for eternity would be a million times the pain.” He pulled him closer. “Please, just promise me you won’t do that again. I was sent to prolong your life, not make you want to end it.”
The tears came easily now. Even after all Donghae had gone through to convince the Council to let him stay up here after what he’d done that night in the hospital, and the punishment he’d gone through, he still thought only about Hyukjae.
“I-I promise.”
“Good.” Donghae smiled widely, and Hyukjae felt all his worries disappear. “But you must be bored now that you have nothing to fold, Hyukjae.”
Hyukjae smiled wryly, his tears drying. “Why yes, I’ve been pretty nonchalant these days.” He covered his cheek, his jawline, his nose and eyes in butterfly kisses. “Don’t you have anything-” he pulled the blonde closer “-interesting to do around here?”
Donghae laughed, skin tingling under Hyukjae’s kisses. “Oh yes, but it depends on how good of a boy you are.”
He winked and Hyukjae could never feel happier.
He finally reached the stars.
- - -
Hyoyeon huffed loudly as she stood in front of the door, the strawberries in the basket slowly getting heavier. She’d been knocking for almost ten minutes now, yet he still hadn’t opened up. She frowned and wondered why she even bothered to knock and just bust in.
But where she was expecting to see a disgruntled Hyukjae propped on his bed folding papers like the idiot he was, she found an empty room. The papers were there but Hyukjae wasn’t, littered everywhere from the lampshade to the table to the floor-everywhere except the bed.
She slowly walked towards it, careful not to step on any of his creations.
Hyoyeon smiled sadly as she came closer and caught sight of what was on top. From there, she knew her best friend was gone. Memories of a beautiful blonde angel telling her of his suicide in her dreams rushed in and she knew Hyukjae was gone, but he was also happy.
It didn’t stop the tears from falling though.
Because there, on the bed, sat a single paper star and a pure white feather.
Five Hundred.
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A/N: I know it’s not much and way too long but I do hope akihikaru would like this at least a little bit ^^ Sorry if it sucks, dear >< I'm so glad she liked it ;~; ♥
Characters/Pairings: Hyukjae/Donghae (angel!Hae)
Rating: PG13
Genre(s): Romance, Fluff, AU, slight!Highschool, slight!Angst
Author's Note: For Suju Holiday Fic Exchange. I have no idea how I came up with this using that prompt tbh ;A; Oh, and thanks to my beta lunaticsonhigh. Love ya, bitch.
☆ ☆ ☆
Fifty. Fifty-one. Fifty-two.
He folded and folded, the buzzing of the air-conditioner and slight cackle of paper filling the room. He was alone, though it would be considered the default setting by now. His parents had found his sickness troublesome, saying they were much too busy earning money for his hospital bills to keep him company. Hyukjae didn’t mind, though. He preferred being alone.
The hospital room had become his sanctuary, with its odd smell and eerie silence. The stiff bed, beeping monitors and hustle and bustle of doctors, nurses and patients that go muted behind closed doors provided him comfort. It was the world he knew, the world he thought he belonged to. Outside, things were much too harsh, too hurried. He wanted silence, and he wanted to think. He wasn’t suited to the fast-paced walking or the honking of horns or the constant competition.
Hyukjae had always been the odd one in the family. He saw things differently, preferred apples to oranges, abstract to concrete. There was a time he’d sit on the roof, almost slipping off the slope yet paid it no attention and decided that grabbing at colors and auras he was sure were there was much more important. His hands would reach out to the night sky, wanting to grasp the colors and the shapes only he could see, but he couldn’t. Hyukjae cried and cried, and cried so loudly, his parents almost had a heart attack when they found him.
His relatives decided it best their children be kept away from Hyukjae. No one visited him, but it was okay. He liked the silence.
He folded and folded.
Eighty-five. Eighty-Six. Eighty-seven.
Hyukjae groaned as he watched blood trickle down his slim finger, mumbling under his breath what sounded like a curse to all paper cuts in the world.
So he reached across the bed to the side table, only to knock over the roll of paper towels and then mumbled under his breath what sounded like a curse to all paper towels in the world.
“What are you doing?”
If Hyukjae was surprised to see a blonde towering over his bed dressed in all-white, he didn’t show it.
“Folding.” He answered, looking the man straight in the eye and couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. His features were soft, skin smooth and eyes a clear blue.
The man smiled, moving to sit and the bed dipped slightly under his weight. He lifted a hand to Hyukjae’s bleeding finger, hovering above it as if asking for permission. Hyukjae nodded and the man enclosed the wounded finger with his own.
The bleeding stopped.
“Donghae.” He said and the sound filled the room in a melody, “My name is Donghae.”
If he was surprised to see the pure white wings that extended from Donghae’s back, he didn’t show it.
Hyukjae smiled-it was the first in a while.
He folded and folded.
Ninety-eight. Ninety-nine. One hundred.
Donghae held the origami carefully in his hands, admiring the form of each one. His blond hair fell slightly over his eyes as he counted the folded pieces of paper with a hushed tone. Surely, there were a hundred and he took a moment to admire Hyukjae’s diligence as he examined each artwork, every single one folded neatly and perfectly.
The redhead lay spent on the bed, his arms stretched out in surrender.
One hundred. He sighed tiredly, an odd disappointment etched in his voice. He’d finally reached a hundred, yet…Hyukjae abruptly sat up and stared at the papers, narrowing his eyes at them in a criticizing glare.They weren’t enough.
Donghae once asked him, ‘Why stars?’ as he watched the redhead fold with his lips jut out and eyebrows scrunched together.
‘I want to touch them.’ Hyukjae would answer, ‘pluck them out of the sky.’
‘Why so many?’
Hyukjae didn’t reply after that, and kept folding.
But now that he was done…Hyukjae didn’t like it. It was odd, because a few days ago, he was so set on finishing but now all he could think about was to keep folding.
He eyed the stack of papers on the desk across his bed that the nurse dropped by every morning and pointed at it. “Donghae~” he almost whined.
“You are making more?” the blonde chuckled and walked to the table, his feathers fluttering softly as his wings extended in the small space. Hyukjae admired Donghae’s back, watching how the feathers shined different shades of blue and pink and violet in the light. Honestly, he could’ve gotten the papers himself since his condition wasn’t so bad today, but he liked looking at Donghae’s wings. They reminded him of the beauty only he could see-him and no one else.
With a determined huff, Hyukjae quickly took the papers from Donghae’s hands as he held them out.
He folded and folded.
One hundred fifty-one. One hundred fifty-two. One hundred fifty-three.
Hyukjae mumbled a thank you to the nurse as she dropped by for his daily check-up. She was young and pretty, fair skinned and had a nice smile. On usual days, he didn’t really mind her and sometimes, even had a soft spot for her since she was the only visitor he didn’t shoo away or ignore completely.
But today, his eye twitched at how she was so obviously ogling Donghae. She’d send the blonde smiles in between her tasks, glancing his way several times more than necessary and lingering on the wrong side of the bed. Hyukjae didn’t blame her though; Donghae really was quite the eye candy, especially with his handsome features that bordered on cute and how he’d politely smile back which got her blushing, stuttering and stumbling out the room. He got the feeling Donghae could make anyone adore him.
Hyukjae frowned, crossing his arms in a huff.
“How come she can see you?”
Donghae smiled, amused at how the brunette seethed in jealousy. “I am not invisible, Hyukjae.”
“Well usually, you are.”
Donghae eyed the pieces of half-folded paper that lay forgotten beside the brunette.
“Well today, I am not.”
“How come?”
The angel smiled and shrugged, making the brunette frown.
“She can’t see your wings, can she?”
“She cannot.”
“Good.” And Hyukjae went back to folding.
One hundred eighty-seven. One hundred eighty-eight. One hundred eighty-nine.
“Move around any more, and the bed will break.”
Donghae stopped shifting beside Hyukjae and looked at him with wide eyes. “R-really?”
Hyukjae laughed (he forgot he knew how) and ruffled his hair, “No. But seriously, stop it. You’re making me dizzy with all the creaking.”
Donghae sunk into his pillow, embarrassed. They were squeezed together on Hyukjae’s small hospital bed, Donghae’s feathers constantly getting into the other’s face, which at first tickled, but after a while was just plain annoying. The angel kept shifting, trying to position himself in a way that he wouldn’t shove his wings into Hyukjae’s mouth but ended up making the bed creak, taking most of the blanket and nearly knocking down his IV.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he said, trying to get up.
But Hyukjae grabbed his shoulders and brought him down so their bodies faced each other.
“There.” He looked over at the now unburdened wings that spread gratefully and slowly blanketed their owner. “Much better.”
Donghae gulped, never having been this close to Hyukjae’s face before. “A-alright.”
“You should’ve just faced me in the first place,” he said, eyes staring into Donghae’s blue ones. “Does it still hurt?”
“I am alright. Thank you for letting me stay here, Hyukjae.”
Donghae had come with an aching body that day and quite surprisingly, he wouldn't tell Hyukjae why. After numerous interrogations and still not getting anything, the brunette decided to just let the angel crash on his bed because he looked really worn out with his usually clear blue eyes muddled and pure white feathers faded.
“Hyukjae?”
“Yes?”
“Happy Birthday.”
Hyukjae smiled and circled his arms around Donghae’s neck, burying his nose in his hair.
“Thank you.”
They spoke in hushed whispers all night, fingers unconsciously tangling together. Hyukjae would draw patterns on Donghae’s cheek, mesmerized by the smooth skin and electricity he felt travel from the tip of his fingertips to the tips of his toes. Donghae would tap the skin right above Hyukjae’s heart with a shy finger, going with the slow, steady beat.
Donghae spoke of blue skies, vibrant flowers that floated on the surface, calm oceans and towering trees in green forests, his voice at first reluctant but grew stronger as he went on. His eyes lit up, describing in detail the clouds that decorated the walls and the birds that soared through them with vibrant feathers in colors not defined by the rainbow. He smiled as he told of the fishes and their quaint tails, and in that smile, Hyukjae could see all the wonders the angel was telling him, and more.
He was about to ask about the stars when he saw Donghae’s eyelids slowly droop and he was reminded of just how exhausted the angel was.
So he got up, reached for paper and watched Donghae’s chest rise and fall as he folded.
Two hundred ten. Two hundred eleven. Two hundred twelve.
It was no secret that Hyukjae disliked having visitors. It was awkward how they try to make a conversation and act as if they weren’t forced to visit either by parents or courtesy, and that Hyukjae didn’t weird them out just a bit. Now that Donghae was around and his hospital room was strewn with mounds of paper stars, relatives were starting to wonder if he was slowly losing his mind because folding that many was not normal. Plus he kept talking to someone who just wasn’t there. As far as they were concerned, Donghae was invisible.
But there was one person Hyukjae didn’t mind visiting him and that was Hyoyeon.
They were best friends, no dramatic story of unrequited love or childhood-turned-lover sort of thing. She was one of the few people Hyukjae opened up to, he wasn’t afraid of what she’d think of him or if she’d be creeped out by what goes on in his head. Pretty and friendly, she was in fact one of the most popular people in school but when the student population found out about her friendship with Hyukjae, the weirdo, they started either avoiding her or asking her to help prank him.
Hyoyeon was cool about it though. She smiled, gave them the finger then an uppercut to the jaw. Each. They never bothered her again.
“Hey, dork.” She placed a basket of strawberries on the desk, “how’s it goi-oh shit, who gave the postman the wrong address?”
Hyoyeon stared at the number of paper stars that littered Hyukjae’s bed, tables and floor.
Hyukjae rolled his eyes, “Thanks for the strawberries, Hyo.”
She waved off his thanks and bent down to pick up a star by her shoe. “You’re seriously not over the origami phase? I thought you were stopping at a hundred?” She scanned the room, “There must be at least double that here!”
Hyukjae shrugged, “Wasn’t enough.”
Hyoyeon raised an eyebrow, but let it slip and proceeded to filling Hyukjae in on all the gossip and drama that’s been going on in school since her last visit. She had a lot of stories, funny ones like how Junsu tripped over his own soccer ball last week (‘I called that, I so called that.’ Hyukjae would say) and how the cafeteria food was so bad one day that Heechul bitchslapped the lunch lady for feeding him food that would ruin his skin.
She was sad as well, telling him about how bad her grades were getting and how she missed sticking gum under tables and switching bathroom signs just to piss people off with him. Hyukjae hummed, nodded, and chuckled at the right times, wanting for once to go back to school like normal and not stay kempt up in the hospital.
But the wish was gone as soon as it came. When Hyoyeon left with a shout for him to get better and a slight smack on the back of his head almost an hour later, Donghae slipped in through the window as soon as the door clicked close and all thoughts of leaving vanished.
“You don’t have to stay up on the roof whenever she visits, you know.” Hyukjae smiles as he sees the angel, patting the empty spot beside him. “She can’t see you anyway, right?”
“I believe you would be more comfortable if I were not present, Hyukjae.” Donghae climbed up on the bed.
“Why would you think that?”
“I just do.”
Hyukjae stopped his folding to look up at the blonde who refused to look back, fidgeting in his seat and playing with his feathers.
“You’re not jealous, are you?” He poked him with his foot, grinning cheekily.
Donghae pouted and move to get up from bed. Laughing, Hyukjae pulled him back by the wing, causing the angel to yelp. “Alright, alright. I was just kidding, big baby.”
“It is not a very funny joke, Hyukjae.” Donghae said, but sat back down anyway, automatically handing Hyukjae paper.
Hyukjae smiled, patted his cheek and went back to folding as he listened to Donghae’s stories that were slowly starting to sound like places he dreamt of at night.
Two hundred ninety-four. Two hundred ninety-five. Two hundred ninety-six.
It was one of the few days Hyukjae was outside of his room. The weather was cold and leaves were falling one by one, he wrapped his jacket around him more tightly and shivered.
“Are you sure about this, Hyukjae? You look cold.”
Hyukjae smiled and tugged Donghae’s hand, patting the space next to him. “Sit down and I won’t feel cold anymore.” The blonde had obviously been jumpy about going outside that day, pacing around the bench and constantly stealing looks at the sky. Hyukjae thought Donghae looked pensive, almost nervous, and it was odd for the usual calm and smiley boy.
“You okay? Relax, we already got permission from the doctor.”
The angel opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, thinking. “Why did you want to go outside today, Hyukjae?”
Hyukjae shrugged, “No reason.”
“But don’t you want to fold?”
He turned to Donghae with a sly smile. “My jacket isn’t oversized for nothing.” He pulled out stacks of paper from the mysterious chambers of his coat and grinned. Donghae couldn’t help but chuckle and sat beside him.
“You are cute.”
“Look who’s talking.” Hyukjae said, going through his paper and choosing which one he wanted to start with. When he didn’t hear a reply from Donghae, he looked to his side and found him fiddling with his fingers.
“I-I.,.am not…c-cute.”
Hyukjae grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Are you blushing?” He poked Donghae’s pink cheek, and the angel’s wings fluttered nervously in response.
“No…you are seeing things, Hyukjae.” Donghae mumbled with his head down low.
“You’re right. My bad.” Hyukjae saw the blonde relax and added, “Cutie.”
Donghae flushed and pouted at the laughing brunette. “Hyukjae~ Do not say that please! It is embarrassing.” Hyukjae couldn’t control his laughter; Donghae pouting with his brows furrowed and his wings fluttering cutely behind him was just too much.
Seeing Hyukjae laugh so much, Donghae’s face brightened which only made Hyukjae laugh even more. When the angel (finally) realized why, he pouted again and Hyukjae threw a fit.
“Hyukjae~”
“Alright,” He took a deep breath, “alright. I’m done.” Though there was still an obvious smile on his lips. Donghae really was cute. “Just…tell me about your place again.” He picked up paper that fell on the ground during his laughing fit, having already decided that Donghae’s voice was the best music he could listen to while folding.
“Oh, but I…”
Hyukjae raised an eyebrow at him, “You…?”
“I would like to hear more about you as well.”
“Me?”
“Yes,” Donghae smiled brightly, “you, Hyukjae.”
Hyukjae frowned, “there’s nothing special about the world I live in, Donghae.”
The blonde’s face fell, “But-“
“Nothing special about humans. Please…just…” He didn’t notice the paper already crumpled in his fist.
Donghae slowly brought his hands to Hyukjae’s face, lifting his head to look him in the eyes, “Okay. Okay, I won’t ask you to anymore.” Hyukjae stared into Donghae’s clear blue orbs, slowly mirroring the smile on the angel’s lips. “But I have no desire to talk about my hometown today. Would you care to teach me how to make paper stars instead?”
Hyukjae nodded, handing Donghae a piece. “Okay, but only for today.” Because you’re so cute.
Donghae smiled as Hyukjae patiently taught him how to make stars, the wind carrying his voice.
It’s been a while since Hyukjae was outside. He was afraid of the outside. Outside was harsh, abusive and painful. But with Donghae and his smiles and his feathers, he didn’t really mind. He watched the autumn fall into piles and the birds make their nests.
But he didn’t see the limp in Donghae’s step; he didn’t see the sadness in Donghae’s eyes and the feathers that slowly fell of his majestic wings.
Instead, he folded and folded.
Three hundred fifty-two. Three hundred fifty-three. Three hundred fifty-four.
It was the first time in months that Hyukjae heard those voices behind his doors. He stopped folding, frozen with paper in his hands for a while but continued on, certain that they would not come in.
They never did.
“What is the matter, Hyukjae?”
Just as he was about to dismiss it as nothing, the door slammed open. Both Donghae and Hyukjae stared at it with wide eyes. They heard a faint voice calling ‘Henry!’ down the hallway.
There, clad in his jumpers and lollipop tucked into his cheeks, stood Hyukjae’s baby cousin.
Neither Donghae nor Hyukjae moved a muscle, both reindeers in headlights at Henry’s sudden entrance.
Henry stared curiously into the room, scanning it from corner to corner, but seemingly ignoring Hyukjae who sat on the bed. Hyukjae held his breath, not sure how to face a relative, or anyone from his family for that matter, even if it was Henry, the baby he’d cradled in his arms when they’d both been left at home. He didn’t know what to say but more importantly, he didn’t want to say anything.
Hyukjae quietly turned his attention back to the papers that littered his lap, not wanting any contact with the family that had abandoned him.
Donghae, on the other hand, watched Henry take cautious steps into the room. He watched as the boy’s eyes slowly landed on him, and then widen.
“You’re…”
Donghae chuckled, “Hello. You must be Henry.”
Henry took the lollipop out of his mouth with a pop, his eyes wide and curious, glancing at the angel’s wings. “Yes. And you must be…Donghae.”
“Yes. I am Donghae.” He beamed, eyes twinkling.
With a gasp and an I knew it!, Henry rushed out of the room, almost tripping over his own feet. He slammed the door closed, shouting for his mother to listen to him.
Donghae turned his attention back to Hyukjae who looked as if he were deaf to their conversation.
“Won’t you say hi?”
“No.” Hyukjae answered shortly.
Donghae smiled sadly as he listened to Henry’s story to his mother, trying to convince her that his Hyukjae hyung wasn’t as bad as everyone said he was, that he wasn’t crazy and that Donghae really did exist.
‘Don’t talk about him anymore, Henry.’ Came his mother’s reply. ‘Please. Let’s just go home.’
Four hundred twelve. Four hundred thirteen. Four hundred fourteen.
The night was cold and the breeze was harsh against the tiles of the roof. Donghae sat with his knees huddled and his wings enveloping him for warmth. He sighed.
Hyukjae wanted to be alone today. His meds made him cranky, and he ended up snapping at Donghae for touching one of his stars.
“Don’t touch them!”
“I…I just wanted to…”
“Don’t fucking touch them, Donghae. They’re not enough…too few…”
“Hyukjae, what-“
“What does it matter to you? You’ll leave me just like the rest of them, won’t you? I’ll never be able to touch the stars with you, won’t I? Because you’re…and I’m…”
“What are you-“
“Leave me alone, Donghae. I need to fold…I need some more…”
“Let me help you.”
“No! Just go!”
“Hyukjae…”
“Go!”
Donghae sighed, rubbing a hand over his heart. It was painful when Hyukjae said things like that, throbbing when he didn’t have Hyukjae by his side. Donghae knew he was suffering, but Donghae didn’t know why. Why Hyukjae wanted to fold so many stars, why he didn’t want to stop no matter what.
But Donghae did not force answers, did not demand explanation because it was not his duty to do so.
The angel smiled sadly, looking up at the night sky and the stars Hyukjae wanted so badly to reach and thought that maybe he cared about his human a bit too much.
Four hundred fifty-two. Four hundred fifty-three. Four hundred fifty-four.
“Why didn’t you take it?” Donghae was not permitted to feel anger or frustration, but if he were, he knew it felt something like this. “Why didn’t you take the heart donor’s offer?”
Hyukjae ignored him, keeping his eyes on the paper in his hands.
“It was your chance! Do you not want your life to go back to normal? Do you not want to return home? You could have gotten out of here, Hyukjae. You would be cured! You could go back to school, have lunch with Hyoyeon and play pranks on Junsu and made fun of Heechul like you used to. Do you not want that?”
It took many long months for Donghae to browse through the large amount of souls that were entering the Gate and find one that would match Hyukjae’s heart yet here is his human, stubbornly refusing the donation with a stiff nod.
“I’m afraid.” Hyukjae whispered.
“What?”
“I’m afraid.” He said louder, gaining confidence as he stared Donghae in the eye. “I don't want a new heart. I don’t want to heal.”
“But-“
“Donghae,” He grabbed his hand, placing it firmly on his chest. “This new heart…I’m afraid of it. It won’t be the same. Would it beat the way mine does?“ Hyukjae’s eyes bore deep into Donghae’s. Would I see you again? Would you leave my side?
Donghae could feel his cheeks warming, “And how does your heart beat?”
Hyukjae smiled, closing his eyes as he listened to the soft drumming. “Strong and loud, almost painful. Erratic and exciting and wonderful-like I’m not sick at all. Especially when…” He inched closer, warm breath wafting over Donghae’s lips.
“When…?”
Hyukjae leaned forward and their lips connected in a sweet, soothing kiss. Donghae trembled at the touch, unsure of the emotions washing over him. They were nothing like what Leeteuk hyung ever taught him. These emotions were strong and passionate and dizzying that Donghae could only feel the pounding of his heart and the soft lips against his.
Too soon, Hyukjae pulled back and leaned his forehead against Donghae’s, panting slightly. “I’d rather…” He whispered, eyes closed.
Donghae felt Hyukjae’s heart beat loudly against his fingertips, pounding under his delicate palm.
“…it beat like this.” Hyukjae finished.
Please, let me stay by your side.
Donghae could only nod.
Four hundred seventy-five. Four hundred seventy-six. Four hundred seventy-seven.
Hyukjae wasn’t sure if he was angry with the nurse for ruining his good mood from last night or for smiling so much when he didn’t find her news of his condition’s apparent improvement very enlightening. Actually, he wasn’t just angry. He was fucking pissed.
‘It’s a miracle, Hyukjae!’ she says, ‘your heart has suddenly gone stable and all the doctors were so shocked but results don’t lie. You’ll be out of here by at least next week! Isn’t that great?’
It didn’t look so great when she ran out the door as scissors were thrown at her face, missing by a hair.
He thought he’d already solved this by declining that heart donor.
He didn’t want to get out of here. He didn’t want to face his sorry excuse of a family who’d abandoned him at the slightest problem and spread word of his mentality as if they understood. He didn’t want to go back to school where people would stuff him in a locker and carve profanities on his desk. He didn’t want to get better, dammit.
He just wanted to stay here with Donghae, was that too much to ask?
Then it hit him.
He didn’t have to worry about heart donors or miracle recoveries.
Why was he even stressing over this? The answer was so simple.
If Donghae couldn’t go to him, then Hyukjae would go to him instead.
Hyukjae eyed the scissors he’d thrown at the nurse, glinting silver in the moonlight and sprawled out on the tiled floor.
He stood and grabbed it with shaking fingers.
The answer was so simple.
But first…
.
.
.
That night, Donghae didn’t meet Hyukjae in the hospital room like he always did. Instead, he flew as fast as his wings could take him to the Main House soon as he caught whiff of what his human had done, but not before paying a visit to a certain girl on earth.
Donghae had made up his mind, he thought as amidst his flapping wings, he was ready to sacrifice what he had to keep Hyukjae by his side and allowed himself to be selfish just this once, and keep Hyukjae here instead of prolonging his life.
He could only hope Hyoyeon, the only person who seemed to care the slightest about Hyukjae, would forgive him.
Four hundred ninety-seven. Four hundred ninety-eight. Four hundred ninety-nine.
Hyukjae spun round and round, his arms spread out and head tilted to the multi-colored sky. The grass felt moist under his bare feet, just the right amount of cold wind on his skin and birds’ singsong chirping in the distance. He smiled widely.
“This is great.”
“Are you happy, Hyukjae?” Donghae sat on the grass with knees bent and eyes following Hyukjae’s every movement.
Hyukjae twirled once more, inhaling the sweet scent of his surroundings-it smelled like Donghae. “Never been happier.”
“Don’t you miss your stars?”
“Not as much as I miss your wings.” He stopped gawking at his surroundings to stare at the emptiness of Donghae’s back. “Look, I could try and talk to them. There has to be another way-”
Donghae stood up and caught Hyukjae’s wrist, “I am alright, really.” He went behind Hyukjae and wrapped his arms on his waist, his way of calming Hyukjae’s guilt. “If this is the price I need to pay to have you here with me, then so be it.”
“I want to see your back, Donghae.”
Hands tightened around his waist in protest.
“Let me see it.”
With a sigh, Donghae let go and Hyukjae walked behind him. His hand hovered above the scars of brutal punishment the Council decided on his angel. They were still red from the ripping of wings, and he could still hear the echo of Donghae’s cry in his ears that day. He knew there were going to be consequences for his entrance to their realm, he knew it, but he didn’t know it would be this…
“I’m sorry.” He felt tears coming on, and gulped. “I’m so sorry, Donghae. I just…I just really wanted to be with you already.”
Donghae’s touch was gentle as he turned around and cupped Hyukjae’s cheek, “Do not cry, Hyukjae. To have you go down there instead and suffer for eternity would be a million times the pain.” He pulled him closer. “Please, just promise me you won’t do that again. I was sent to prolong your life, not make you want to end it.”
The tears came easily now. Even after all Donghae had gone through to convince the Council to let him stay up here after what he’d done that night in the hospital, and the punishment he’d gone through, he still thought only about Hyukjae.
“I-I promise.”
“Good.” Donghae smiled widely, and Hyukjae felt all his worries disappear. “But you must be bored now that you have nothing to fold, Hyukjae.”
Hyukjae smiled wryly, his tears drying. “Why yes, I’ve been pretty nonchalant these days.” He covered his cheek, his jawline, his nose and eyes in butterfly kisses. “Don’t you have anything-” he pulled the blonde closer “-interesting to do around here?”
Donghae laughed, skin tingling under Hyukjae’s kisses. “Oh yes, but it depends on how good of a boy you are.”
He winked and Hyukjae could never feel happier.
He finally reached the stars.
- - -
Hyoyeon huffed loudly as she stood in front of the door, the strawberries in the basket slowly getting heavier. She’d been knocking for almost ten minutes now, yet he still hadn’t opened up. She frowned and wondered why she even bothered to knock and just bust in.
But where she was expecting to see a disgruntled Hyukjae propped on his bed folding papers like the idiot he was, she found an empty room. The papers were there but Hyukjae wasn’t, littered everywhere from the lampshade to the table to the floor-everywhere except the bed.
She slowly walked towards it, careful not to step on any of his creations.
Hyoyeon smiled sadly as she came closer and caught sight of what was on top. From there, she knew her best friend was gone. Memories of a beautiful blonde angel telling her of his suicide in her dreams rushed in and she knew Hyukjae was gone, but he was also happy.
It didn’t stop the tears from falling though.
Because there, on the bed, sat a single paper star and a pure white feather.
Five Hundred.
☆ ☆ ☆
A/N: I know it’s not much and way too long but I do hope akihikaru would like this at least a little bit ^^ Sorry if it sucks, dear >< I'm so glad she liked it ;~; ♥