Slow Motion
» Slow Motion. Eunhae, Donghae-centric. Angst. 963 words.
Eunhyuk likes the world as fast as he can get it to be, but Donghae would rather take their journey one step at a time.
A/N: A request by rubyls, hope you like it!
SONG: "Slow Motion" - Karina Pasian
Donghae wakes up at eleven, three hours later than normal to find the other side of his bed is completely deserted, leaving nothing but the imprint of the body that had been there some time previously. Donghae lays on his side, analyzing the spot like it's some sort of trigonometry problem. He places his hand in the center of the spot; still warm. Recently abandoned.
He pulls himself from bed and drags himself to the bathroom on weary, tired legs. He stares at himself in the mirror, a pair of bleary, bloodshot eyes staring back at him that don't look like his own. He relieves himself in the toilet, then moves to wash his hands, but his fingers brush against something -- a toothbrush, not his own.
This bothers him beyond belief, but why, he's not exactly sure.
When finished in the bathroom, he decides Lucky Charms sound like a foreign delicacy, and makes his way to the kitchen. The box of cereal is resting on the counter, on the stove; the stove light is on, a small note attached to it.
Hae,
Be back later for my stuff.
Hyuk.
Donghae stares at the word, Hae. Hae. Hae. Hae. The familiarity of the word bores into his mind like a hot poker to the eyes. He crumples the note and tosses it at the trash bin but misses; he curses, but is far too occupied with Lucky Charms to care.
Morning consists of Saturday morning cartoons and soggy Charms and a nap, because apparently eight hours of shared-space slumber wasn't sufficient for Donghae's biological clock. Dreams of the night before, the hot, rough, almost-violent love-making they had danced through his subconscious.
He wakes in a cold sweat, panting, heart racing and mind spinning out of control. This was wrong, so horribly wrong.
It was just too fast. Much too fast for his liking, and in the back of his mind lingered three words; recipe for disaster.
Eunhyuk returns at four, sweaty in a way that normally would be arousing to anyone with a brain stem but was more deterring than anything to Donghae. He watches as Eunhyuk kicked off his shoes -- like it's his apartment -- and drops his car keys in the bowl on the counter -- like it's his apartment -- and smiles at Donghae. That big, stupid, gummy grin that makes Donghae's blood fizzle in his veins, now making it boil in irritation.
"Hey, babe," Eunhyuk says, walking into the living room and collapsing in a heap on the couch next to Donghae, arm slung over shoulder. "How was your day?"
Donghae shivers. "Fine," He says. "Just fine."
"That's good," Eunhyuk says, that stupid grin still plastered on his face. Donghae starts to think it's permanent. "What's for dinner?"
"Dunno." Donghae says flatly. His eyebrow twitches; this is wrong.
There is silence for a while, a long while. The kind of while that makes you tap your fingers in wait on the arm of the couch, because you're waiting for something to break the awkward silence that's grown between you but you're too scared to make that something actually happen.
"Hyukjae," He finally says, and the noise seems to shatter the sound barrier. Everything sounds too loud all of a sudden -- the hum of the light, the television with its obnoxious laughter, Eunhyuk's breathing. Too loud. "We need to talk."
Eunhyuk turns from the television, analyzes Donghae's features. There's that look on his face that something is definitely, definitely wrong, and Eunhyuk knows that look a little too well. He swallows hard, clears his throat, then speaks. "About?"
"Us," Donghae says, nodding. "About us."
You know that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when someone says, we need to talk? And it happens to be your best friend who you're kind of dating and kind of fucking, and kind of falling for? And your stomach freezes and it's like you've been punched in the gut with a hammer?
Eunhyuk knows this feeling a little too well, too. He swallows again and nods. "Alright, shoot."
"Well, it's just..." A pause, silence ensues. Eunhyuk wants to throw up. "Don't you think we're going a bit...fast with all of this?" Donghae asks, tilting his head. "Really fast?"
Eunhyuk blinks. "Hae," He says, and Donghae visibly shudders. "What?"
"D-Don't call me Hae," Donghae says flatly. "Please."
"...Okay, um, Donghae," Eunhyuk stumbles over his words. "It's been a month and a half..."
"Yes, but," Donghae slips Eunhyuk's arm from around his shoulder, instead taking his hand. "I want things between us to go slow. I don't want to fuck you yet, even though I did last night but that's not the point. I don't want you leaving your stuff around like you live here and I don't want you throwing your keys in the bowl on the counter." He sighs. "I want to take things a lot slower than we have. This is going way too fast, and...I know from experience that fast relationships don't work."
Eunhyuk's eyes widen; did he just... "Wh-What are you t-trying to s-say?" He stammers. He expects a laugh, a slap in the face, something negative.
Instead, Donghae smiles. "I want this to work."
Weeks pass, and things are different. There are no more new toothbrushes in Donghae's bathroom, no more foreign keys in the bowl on the counter and no more Adidas shoes left by the door. There is simply the warm spot in bed next to Donghae, now occupied, part-time. For the time being, at least.
Eunhyuk likes the world as fast as he can get it to be, but Donghae would rather take their journey one step at a time.
A/N: A request by rubyls, hope you like it!
SONG: "Slow Motion" - Karina Pasian
Donghae wakes up at eleven, three hours later than normal to find the other side of his bed is completely deserted, leaving nothing but the imprint of the body that had been there some time previously. Donghae lays on his side, analyzing the spot like it's some sort of trigonometry problem. He places his hand in the center of the spot; still warm. Recently abandoned.
He pulls himself from bed and drags himself to the bathroom on weary, tired legs. He stares at himself in the mirror, a pair of bleary, bloodshot eyes staring back at him that don't look like his own. He relieves himself in the toilet, then moves to wash his hands, but his fingers brush against something -- a toothbrush, not his own.
This bothers him beyond belief, but why, he's not exactly sure.
When finished in the bathroom, he decides Lucky Charms sound like a foreign delicacy, and makes his way to the kitchen. The box of cereal is resting on the counter, on the stove; the stove light is on, a small note attached to it.
Hae,
Be back later for my stuff.
Hyuk.
Donghae stares at the word, Hae. Hae. Hae. Hae. The familiarity of the word bores into his mind like a hot poker to the eyes. He crumples the note and tosses it at the trash bin but misses; he curses, but is far too occupied with Lucky Charms to care.
Morning consists of Saturday morning cartoons and soggy Charms and a nap, because apparently eight hours of shared-space slumber wasn't sufficient for Donghae's biological clock. Dreams of the night before, the hot, rough, almost-violent love-making they had danced through his subconscious.
He wakes in a cold sweat, panting, heart racing and mind spinning out of control. This was wrong, so horribly wrong.
It was just too fast. Much too fast for his liking, and in the back of his mind lingered three words; recipe for disaster.
Eunhyuk returns at four, sweaty in a way that normally would be arousing to anyone with a brain stem but was more deterring than anything to Donghae. He watches as Eunhyuk kicked off his shoes -- like it's his apartment -- and drops his car keys in the bowl on the counter -- like it's his apartment -- and smiles at Donghae. That big, stupid, gummy grin that makes Donghae's blood fizzle in his veins, now making it boil in irritation.
"Hey, babe," Eunhyuk says, walking into the living room and collapsing in a heap on the couch next to Donghae, arm slung over shoulder. "How was your day?"
Donghae shivers. "Fine," He says. "Just fine."
"That's good," Eunhyuk says, that stupid grin still plastered on his face. Donghae starts to think it's permanent. "What's for dinner?"
"Dunno." Donghae says flatly. His eyebrow twitches; this is wrong.
There is silence for a while, a long while. The kind of while that makes you tap your fingers in wait on the arm of the couch, because you're waiting for something to break the awkward silence that's grown between you but you're too scared to make that something actually happen.
"Hyukjae," He finally says, and the noise seems to shatter the sound barrier. Everything sounds too loud all of a sudden -- the hum of the light, the television with its obnoxious laughter, Eunhyuk's breathing. Too loud. "We need to talk."
Eunhyuk turns from the television, analyzes Donghae's features. There's that look on his face that something is definitely, definitely wrong, and Eunhyuk knows that look a little too well. He swallows hard, clears his throat, then speaks. "About?"
"Us," Donghae says, nodding. "About us."
You know that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when someone says, we need to talk? And it happens to be your best friend who you're kind of dating and kind of fucking, and kind of falling for? And your stomach freezes and it's like you've been punched in the gut with a hammer?
Eunhyuk knows this feeling a little too well, too. He swallows again and nods. "Alright, shoot."
"Well, it's just..." A pause, silence ensues. Eunhyuk wants to throw up. "Don't you think we're going a bit...fast with all of this?" Donghae asks, tilting his head. "Really fast?"
Eunhyuk blinks. "Hae," He says, and Donghae visibly shudders. "What?"
"D-Don't call me Hae," Donghae says flatly. "Please."
"...Okay, um, Donghae," Eunhyuk stumbles over his words. "It's been a month and a half..."
"Yes, but," Donghae slips Eunhyuk's arm from around his shoulder, instead taking his hand. "I want things between us to go slow. I don't want to fuck you yet, even though I did last night but that's not the point. I don't want you leaving your stuff around like you live here and I don't want you throwing your keys in the bowl on the counter." He sighs. "I want to take things a lot slower than we have. This is going way too fast, and...I know from experience that fast relationships don't work."
Eunhyuk's eyes widen; did he just... "Wh-What are you t-trying to s-say?" He stammers. He expects a laugh, a slap in the face, something negative.
Instead, Donghae smiles. "I want this to work."
Weeks pass, and things are different. There are no more new toothbrushes in Donghae's bathroom, no more foreign keys in the bowl on the counter and no more Adidas shoes left by the door. There is simply the warm spot in bed next to Donghae, now occupied, part-time. For the time being, at least.