Chapter Text
A stubbed toe and half a bin of used tissues later, Donghae was throwing punches in the makeshift gym set up next to his bedroom, taking out his frustrations on his trusty punching bag.
It had been an honest slip up. Donghae never meant to ask the question when and where he did. He knew it was unfair, both to Hyukjae and himself. Still, he’d allowed himself to get hurt by the response he’d already expected: silence. Then he’d basically ruined everything by walking away.
“Dammit!” He slammed his glove right down the middle of the punching bag, and braced himself as it came swinging back at full force. He caught it with a grunt, dropping to his knees as he came back to himself. Feeling his chest rise and fall with every breath, the definite proof that he was alive.
No. He shook his head, not wanting to think about that right now. After a quick glance at the wall clock, he pulled off his gloves and tossed them to the side to be dealt with later. It was simply one of those things that could wait. Right now, Donghae was in need of a shower before nightfall. He grabbed the towel and change of clothes he had the sense to prepare beforehand and dragged his feet toward the bathroom.
There were days he dreaded baring his chest and seeing the scar marking where his heart beat beneath. Today wasn’t one of those days. Donghae stripped out of the tank top he only wore within the comfort of his room where he was alone like so, and leaned across the sink to examine himself in the mirror.
It was ugly. There was no other word he’d use for it. A patch of lumpy skin nearly as large as his palm surrounded by smaller blotches that were still a relatively angry pink, even more so right after his aggressive workout session. He ran his gaze over the edges of the scar, over every detail. Searching for any hint of the soulmark he’d seen on Hyukjae earlier. Any hint of what they’d been telling him since that day he’d woken up in the hospital.
There were a few pale, uneven lines that dragged across the lumps, but there was no way to be sure whether they were what remained of his soulmark or they were simply an aftereffect of the Soulocation Surgery. Neither did he look at it often enough to be able to tell if it was any different from the first time he saw it. There was the faint memory of promising Dr Choi to return for a checkup, though he could not remember the exact date. Was the memory problem extending to the present? No, he supposed he simply wasn’t paying attention to the exchange between Hyukjae and Siwon.
Donghae let his fingers fleet across the scar tissue, and sighed when nothing happened, leaving him looking like a fool. “What you need is a shower, dumbass.”
He liked to think the way he gave Hyukjae curt replies at dinner without sparing him a glance was justified. When his heart thudded against his chest as if in protest, he ignored it. It was what brought his current situation upon him to begin with.
×××
Some nights, Donghae would dream of a life that wasn’t his. A life where everything revolved around soulmates and soulmarks. He’d hear a voice that sounded much like his father, pointing to the mark over his heart, speaking animatedly in a language Donghae could no longer understand. At some point, his fascination had turned into annoyance.
Annoyance at himself for not remembering, annoyance at the world for revolving around soulmarks, annoyance that he no longer felt like he belonged—perhaps annoyance at the fact that he was falling in love with someone he wasn’t sure loved him back for who he was.
Donghae’s eyes shot open with a strangled gasp, vision adjusting itself till he could make out the familiar dark ceiling. He was in his room, laying on his bed, and now his body was drenched with sweat from his borderline nightmare. He reached for his bedside table, where he always set a towel and jar of water before turning in for the night. He wiped himself down, and rehydrated his body with a full glass of water. Still, he knew sleep would not come as easily a second time tonight.
Leaning back against the headboard, he let his lids fall shut and welcomed the hushed voices into his head.
×××
In the morning, he found Hyukjae on his doorstep, dressed in an oversized sweater and loose slacks in preparation for the change of seasons, a basket of sandwiches in hand. He straightened as Donghae unlocked the door, lowering his head in a bow and thrusting the basket in his direction.
“Please accept my peace offering?”
A small part of Donghae was tempted to slam the door in his face. He nearly did when he saw the supermarket tag still attached to the handle of the basket. Maybe it was the way Hyukjae cared enough to make an attempt, or maybe it had to do with the conversation he had with himself through the night; maybe he was just weak for Hyukjae? In all honesty, all three were likely contributing factors as to why Donghae took a step back and allowed Hyukjae in.
He observed as, unprompted, Hyukjae seeked out the kitchen immediately, where he left his “peace offering” on the island. Times like these, it still slipped Donghae’s mind that he was the only one here who found any of this foreign, that Hyukjae and his family had known him his whole life.
Hyukjae simply stood there, fingers still curled around the handle, gnawing on his lower lip while watching Donghae. It was something Donghae noticed Hyukjae did often—watching him. Be it gauging his reactions, or waiting for him to initiate something like he was doing now. He rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable with all this pressure, and gestured vaguely with his free hand.
“Let’s eat, I guess.”
The twitch of Hyukjae’s lips was impossible to miss; the man wore his heart on his sleeve, one of the things Donghae liked about him. That list seemed to be growing ever the longer, much to his horror. After his previous outburst, Donghae had thought long and hard, no longer sure if his feelings were a result of nature or his own free will. He wasn’t even sure why the answer mattered so much to him when he seemed to have led a perfectly good life before this.
They sat across from each other, silent as Hyukjae offered him a sandwich before picking one for himself. Both of them started when their fingers brushed, snatching their arms back. The innocent sandwich was tossed in the air—and caught by neither, it fell on the ground, its guts spilled in what resembled a gruesome murder scene.
“Lord, forgive me for I have sinned,” Donghae muttered as he witnessed tomato slices and lettuce fall out from the bread in almost cinematic fashion. The chair screeched against the tiles as Hyukjae bent in a futile attempt to rescue the sandwich; it was no longer safe to eat. Hyukjae looked apologetic as he picked up the remnants, crumbs and all. With the same delicate movements, he laid its corpse on a napkin to be tossed into the bin later.
“Sorry.”
Donghae began to nod his approval until he realised the apology was for him , because Hyukjae dropped his sandwich. He gave a casual shrug, reaching for another sandwich in the basket. “It’s fine. There’s still plenty.”
He bit into the middle of the sandwich, where the filling seemed thickest. Hmm. The texture was to his liking, though the lettuce wasn’t as fresh as it could’ve been. Though, he supposed it was decent for a sandwich from the supermarket.
“...Not just for the sandwich.”
Donghae paused mid-bite, having expected but still not quite prepared for this conversation. His mind had been blank since he was woken from his short rest to the buzzing of the doorbell, then spotting a restless Hyukjae through the tiny peephole.
“Donghae-ah.” He looked up at the soft way Hyukjae called his name. The earnestness of the other man’s expression was almost too much for the morning. “I’m sorry about the other day.”
Donghae took his time chewing the food in his mouth before swallowing. “For what?” And there his heart went again, slamming against his ribs, a warning to stop probing. He was tired of listening to it, so he chose not to. “For loving me only because we are soulmates, or for not being able to tell me otherwise?”
As he spoke, Donghae’s attention was on the lower half of Hyukjae’s face, where his jaw ticked in some form of suppressed emotion. Was he too hasty in his question? Would Hyukjae get defensive like he had before?
Hyukjae’s fists on the table clenched, unclenched. Donghae waited.
“For the latter.” His voice was tight when he spoke, the words sounding almost forced. It made Donghae scowl. “Look, you don’t have to say things you don’t mean for my sake or anything. I can handle the truth.”
There the tick of his jaw muscle was again. Hyukjae’s eyes were shut as he sucked in a deep breath through his mouth, his exhale needlessly dragged out. Donghae wasn’t sure why Hyukjae was the one who looked as though he was one word away from exploding.
“I’m not saying this for your sake, Hae. I’m apologising because I didn’t have the answer to your question, even though I should.”
“You don’t?”
At Donghae’s exclamation, Hyukjae gave a small, tentative smile. His eyes twinkled with the barest hint of mischief as he corrected him, “I didn’t. ”
Donghae almost didn’t dare to hope.
“I’ve never given it much thought; what if you weren’t my soulmate, what if I shared a soulmark with another person in the universe. Because they were just that: what ifs… and the reality is you, Lee Donghae, are my soulmate. It’s as true and natural as the fact that humans need air to live.”
Donghae squashed his hopes before they could blossom. That wasn’t what he cared about. Hyukjae was still missing the point—
A hand, warm and clammy from what was probably nerves, covered his fist on the table. He had it so clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. He relaxed, and allowed Hyukjae to slip his hand into his. The way their hands fit together wasn’t perfect, and Donghae found some comfort in that. “Let me finish?” Hyukjae murmured, and he nodded.
“You think I only love you because we share the same soulmark.”
It wasn’t a question. There was no point in denying it; perhaps honesty would get them somewhere. “I do.”
“That’s the conclusion I came to after replaying our conversation a dozen times too,” Hyukjae said slowly. “I can’t say sharing soulmarks isn’t what first made me think of you as more than a childhood friend, Hae.” Hyukjae paused as his pupils wandered across Donghae’s face, once again trying to play safe. It irked Donghae to think that Hyukjae likely had no need to take such measures with him before.
“I… Everyone is born with the expectation that someday, they’d meet their soulmate and spend the remainder of their lives together. That was all I had been looking forward to, especially after my thirteenth birthday passed. Then just months later, we find that it’s you. It was surprising. A miracle, as our parents call it.”
Hyukjae’s smile was almost sentimental as he was no doubt making a trip down memory lane. A lane Donghae didn’t know the way to. Hyukjae seemed to realise that, snapping himself out of his thoughts. “I’m doing a piss ass job at trying to patch things up, aren’t I?”
Donghae shrugged, playing with Hyukjae’s fingers as he tried to articulate his thoughts. “You’re not the only one who’s been dwelling on it.” I spent the whole night dissecting the situation in my head, he didn’t add. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to ask that when I did, because I knew it was unfair to you just as much as it was to me.”
“Why would it be unfair to me?” Hyukjae asked softly, thumb rubbing over Donghae’s knuckles in a way that was oddly hypnotising.
Donghae shrugged again. “I was upset about losing my memories, and feeling... honestly still feels like I no longer belong sometimes. But ,” he punctured when Hyukjae looked like he was about to cut in, “That’s something I’m working on. Something you and your family have been a great help with. My issues aside, you also lost the man you loved.”
“Lost the man I…” Hyukjae’s eyes widened in knowledge at what Donghae was getting at. Then very slowly, he shook his head.
“I haven’t. I haven’t lost him.”
The gazes they exchanged then spoke volumes. It was as if they’d broken down another wall, and it became easier to breathe. It might have been seconds, minutes, or even hours before Hyukjae tugged on their joined hands, and Donghae let him pull it toward his lips, which he pressed against his skin, the sensation soft yet firm.
“Do you think you can still grow to love me?”
The question didn’t surprise him, with all that’d built up to it. Donghae briefly debated giving the truth, but eventually decided against withholding his feelings. Again, he reminded himself that Hyukjae deserved no less than his honesty where their relationship was concerned. “I still am,” he admitted. “Even more than I did yesterday.”
“Even after what happened?” Hyukjae sounded incredulous.
“Even then.” He knew it was true as the words left his mouth.
“...Wow.”
Donghae focused all his attention on the way the man’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he voiced his own question, the same one that’d been on his mind the entire night. “What about you? We both know there’s little chance I’m getting back my memory. Can you really continue to love me, not as your soulmate Lee Donghae who bears the same soulmark as the one over your heart, but just Lee Donghae, a man with a scar over his?”
Rubbing a few more circles over his knuckles, Hyukjae released it. Donghae tried not to think too much of it, and it proved to be the right choice when Hyukjae stood and walked over to his side of the island. He had a feeling he understood what the man was asking with his eyes. Something they both wanted. “Yes,” he whispered.
Donghae tilted his head the same time Hyukjae’s hand, still clammy but warmer than before, came to cup his cheek, both men leaning in to make the meeting of their lips happen. He felt Hyukjae’s shaky exhale against his lips, and it was like tension he didn’t know existed was slipping from the man’s shoulders.
There was so much hope in Hyukjae’s eyes when they pulled apart, enough for the both of them. Enough to make Donghae want to try hoping too.
“I’d like to spend the coming days showing you just how much I love you. Would you let me?”
“Yes.”
The blinding smile Hyukjae bestowed upon Donghae told him he wouldn’t regret what he said.
×××
As it turned out, they did have another scheduled appointment with Dr Choi—both of them, a week after the fight and their talk in the kitchen.
Hyukjae kept his word. They talked, so much so that Donghae learnt more about the man who was his soulmate by both law and nature in the past seven days than they had since he was first discharged from the hospital. The three hour drive stuck in the small space together didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore.
Donghae’s eyes were half lidded, mind drifting off as he slipped into subconsciousness from minutes of staring at the hypnotic street lamps and muffled music playing on the radio when Hyukjae spoke.
“Hae?”
“Hm?” Donghae forced his eyes up to Hyukjae’s reflection, but the man was focused on the road. The only tell that he was something akin to nervous was his rigid posture as opposed to his usual lax demeanor.
“After the appointment with Dr Choi, I need to go check on the shop repairs.”
The…? Donghae’s brows creased before lifting in understanding, heart rate speeding up as he did. Hyukjae was referring to MonkeyTiger Paint. A business the both of them were a month away from opening before the fire. Their business. He realised he’d never asked about it, just as Hyukjae had never brought it up.
“How bad is it?”
Hyukjae wrinkled his nose. “As charred as you might expect. It’s okay though. The shop’s small, and our insurance is enough to cover the repairs and install a better fire alarm system. We’re lucky the interior was still relatively empty, otherwise…” he trailed off, and Donghae shivered. He didn’t want to think about what ifs in regards to the accident, even if he remembered nothing of it.
“That’s fine with me. Not like it’ll take long, right?”
“Uh. Yeah, about that. Which leads to my second point.”
Any other time, he would’ve filed the way Hyukjae’s teeth tugged at his lower lip into the ever growing list of things he liked about the man, but the hesitancy in which he spoke now made Donghae hold the thought.
“After checking on the shop, I intend to drop by our home to clean up. Depending on how long it takes, I may end up staying overnight.”
Oh. “ Our home.”
The words tasted foreign on his tongue. His and Hyukjae’s. Theirs. Ours. Hyukjae seemed to misunderstand his wandering mind, and hastily added, “You can take the car back to your house after the appointment if you’d like. I’ll take a cab when I’m done.”
Donghae suddenly didn’t like the phrase your house as much, though neither was he certain he was ready to visit the apartment he shared with Hyukjae. He wasn’t completely opposed to the idea, however.
“I’m not sure yet. Can I think about it? Till we reach the hospital.”
Hyukjae relaxed marginally. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. In fact, have until the end of the appointment and we’re back in the car.”
Was it inappropriate to think of Hyukjae’s dilemma as endearing? Because that’s what Donghae thought as he reached for the radio knob, switching the channels till he heard a familiar love song that soothed what laid over his heart. Tapping along to the beat, Donghae leaned back against his seat and let his eyes fall shut.
×××
Three hours later, they were bickering over H.O.T and Sechskies’ discography when they entered the consultation room, missing the exchange of amused looks between Siwon and the nurse clearing up documents on the previous patient scattered around the desk. The doctor schooled his expression as the nurse brushed past the pair unnoticed to be replaced by his sister, and cleared his throat.
“Hello, Donghae-ssi, Hyukjae-ssi. I’m glad the both of you seem to be doing since I last saw you.”
Donghae flushed when he realised they had an audience while Hyukjae returned the greeting with a bright, easy smile. “Hey, Dr Choi. And Dr Choi.” He frowned. “This is a little confusing.”
“If it helps, you can just call me Jiwon, and my brother Siwon.”
“Yes, that would help indeed, Jiwon-ssi, thank you.”
Hyukjae’s hand was pressed against his lower back as they slid into the two chairs across the siblings. When his arm fell away, Donghae swore he could still feel the heat from where Hyukjae’s hand had been. It reminded him of something he’d read up on soulmates, about how a simple touch from soulmate to soulmark was capable of warming one down to their toes. It was what he had initially been interested in experimenting the night he’d asked to see Hyukjae’s soulmark.
“So,” Jiwon looked between the two. “Just a few standard procedure questions for Donghae-ssi. First, how are you feeling?”
Donghae ended up answering a few simple questions, Hyukjae occasionally interrupting to provide details that made Donghae feel something between wanting to dig into a hole and away from the doctors’ amused smiles and silence Hyukjae’s mouth with his lips. The latter thought startled him somewhat, even though it shouldn’t have.
Sometime along the past week, he’d gone from falling in love to being in love with the man who was—for a lack of a better word, and Donghae was beginning to come to terms with the reality that there simply wasn’t a better word in existence—destined for him. It had been an easy yet gradual, inevitable process that had everything to do with who Hyukjae was as a person. While Donghae accepted the heart for what it felt, his mind was still unsure of how it’d like him to act in regard to his feelings. Briefly, he let himself wonder if he’d had such a dilemma, before.
The check-up went without a hitch, Jiwon confirming after examining Donghae’s vitals that yes , any sign of what he’d been like the night he was rolled in now concentrated on what was left of his soulmark. Memories for his life. Or his life for his life, depending on how you looked at it. “You’re all clear. My job here is pretty much done.”
They’d barely risen from their seats when Siwon said, “Then I’d like to speak with Donghae-ssi in private, please.”
“In private,” Hyukjae repeated, his tone clearly unwilling.
“Yes, in private, as required by law during consultation. There’s seats reserved for family in the waiting area, Hyukjae-ssi. It shouldn’t take too long.”
Siwon’s voice left no space for argument. The two exchanged glances, and when Hyukjae gave a cock of his brows, Donghae returned with a slow nod. There was always the option of standing up and leaving with a few words of thanks; he was certain it would be ’against the law’ to retain patients against their will, but Donghae was more curious than afraid of what Siwon might have to say.
Eyes fixated on him, Hyukjae stood, and with some ushering from Jiwon, the two left the room, door sliding shut all too softly.
“So… what is it you want to tell me?”
“Not so much tell as it is suggest, actually. An option, actually, to participate in soul therapy sessions.”
He frowned. “What sessions now?”
“Soul therapy sessions. It’s a service the Soulmark department of our hospital offers; similar to physical therapy, but it focuses on trying to get people to be more in-tune with their soulmark.”
“Oh.” People like himself, that much, Donghae was able to fill in himself. He wasn’t sure whether he was interested, though.
“There’s group and one-on-one sessions, whichever you’re comfortable with.” Siwon flipped through his file, slipping out a piece of paper and holding it out for Donghae. “If you’d like, Hyukjae-ssi is more than welcome to join the sessions as well.”
“Why didn’t you let Hyukjae stay for this? Isn’t he supposed to have a say in this, as my soulmate ?” He made air quotes around the word, unwilling to give up on his dubiousness of the concept.
Siwon didn’t even blink. “As I mentioned earlier, having this conversation in private is required by law.”
Donghae narrowed his eyes. “No, it isn’t. I read up on soulmates. There’s no law that aims to separate soulmates, only those that promise protection in cases like abuse.”
“Impressive.” Siwon sounded genuinely impressed, and nodded. “Indeed, it is law to no one but myself. Just like how you are the one who will have to make the final decision. It is your freedom whether you choose to discuss this with your soulmate or not. Having the choice is very important to you, isn’t it?”
Donghae’s head reeled back, and he felt the flush down to his neck. How did Siwon know that? The doctor’s smile was kind, so much so that Donghae might’ve called it charitable. He felt exposed, uncomfortably so, and his words came out a bitter croak,
“You assume too much for someone not living my life, doctor. ”
“I don’t have to, Donghae-ssi. It’s my job to know.” Then, too calmly, the doctor continued: “I’d suggest starting with one-on-one sessions; group sessions can be intense at first, leaving you feeling too raw after. You can find out in detail on our website.”
“Under the assumption that I’m attending them in the first place.”
A small smile this time. “Yes, I have a feeling you will.”
Donghae tapped his foot against the ground, mind gears shifting until something clicked and he straightened in his seat. “You care.”
A little surprised, “Of course. I care about all my patients.”
He shook his head adamantly, leaning forward. Scrutinizing the doctor. “No, you care . It feels personal, almost, how you seem to understand me.”
For a moment, neither man said anything. Then with an almost determined nod to himself, Siwon pushed back his chair, shrugging off his doctor’s coat. Donghae frowned. “What are you doing?”
Siwon wordlessly tugged at the collar of his oversized scrub, the pointed end exposing more skin than what was appropriate. What the hell was the doctor trying to—
Oh.
Siwon’s half smile was almost too heartbreaking to look at. Donghae stumbled over his words in a rush to apologise for his insensitivity, I didn’t mean to, but the doctor simply reassured him, It’s okay.
“It was a long time ago.” He spoke the words coolly. Donghae kept it to himself that time clearly had not done much in easing Siwon’s pain. Before he could stop himself, “Is that why you’re working in this field?” He winced at his own question.
“Yes and no. My father is the founder of this hospital, so I was always… destined to become a doctor.” Siwon’s smile was rueful. “I hadn’t found my soulmate before I underwent the surgery, and now it’s likely I never will.”
“I’m sorry.” There wasn’t much else he could say to that, because despite not remembering, Donghae had his soulmate.
“It was a long time ago,” Siwon repeated. “I just feel sorry for them, if they’re still looking for me, or if we’ve already crossed paths and that was the end of it, and I wouldn’t even be able to tell. So, yes, I suppose it’s personal. I just want you to know every option you have in regards to this life that seems so alien right now.”
Donghae swallowed, hearing, seeing, feeling Siwon’s sincerity. He did understand. He was trying to help. He folded the paper neatly and stood. “I’ll consider it. I promise.”
Siwon stood too, taking Donghae’s outstretched hand, and they exchanged a firm handshake. “That’s all I can ask for.”
Hyukjae was easy to spot, the only one in the area Siwon had told him he’d be. Hyukjae looked up before he could call out for the man, as if he sensed Donghae. He practically jumped from the seat, but was visibly restraining himself as he approached. “We’re good to go?”
He nodded.
“Okay. Let’s go, then.”
They fell into step, shoulders brushing against each other as they made their way back to the car. Hyukjae said nothing, so Donghae said, “You’re not going to ask what Dr Choi told me?”
Hyukjae shrugged, fiddling in his pocket for his car keys. “I’m sure Dr Choi had good reason requesting what he did, and you’ll tell me if you want to. That’s how it works.”
Oh God, he loved this man.
“I want to go with you. To check the shop… and to our home.”
Hyukjae’s eyes widened, not having expected the sudden declaration. Donghae wondered if he looked as bewildered as he felt. “You sure?”
No. “I made my choice.”
×××
Donghae stood staring at the faded logo as Hyukjae engaged in conversation with the in-charge on site. He had no doubts MonkeyTiger Paint had been a thing of beauty, once. Even burnt as it was, walls torn and in the midst of being repainted, he could see from what was left of it that much care had been put into the small shop to make it look warm and homey. It reminded him a little of himself. Did his family—did Hyukjae see anything like that in him? He hoped so.
“Why home painting?” He’d asked later, hands full with bags of cleaning agents and snacks as Hyukjae led them both to their apartment on foot. It was a 10 minute walk from the store, and they’d parked the car in the parking lot not far away. Donghae had been thinking about it since morning, but still couldn’t make sense of him being in the paint business.
Even now, his dream was to serve the nation, like his father had before his illness left him bedridden and eventually took his life.
Hyukjae scratched at his nose, looking somewhat sheepish. “I suppose it wouldn’t make sense to you, since the shop’s existence is in direct relation to me.”
It’s quite the cliche, Hyukjae warned, his attempt at a joke falling flat when Donghae saw the pain in his eyes. An earthquake of magnitude 7.3 while on an overseas trip, leaving them stranded for days as authorities fought against mother nature herself on their mission to save lives. They’d been led to a shelter by the locals, both having suffered no physical injuries—just one of their many miracle moments. They had been near a school, and the shelter was crowded with students; children no older than twelve.
“One of them had been crushed under debris from aftershocks. Medics couldn’t get to her fast enough. She was never going to make it.”
Plastic crinkled as Donghae’s grip on the ears tightened. Death of any kind always made his stomach churn, and to have witnessed one gone so young before his eyes while helpless? Hyukjae made a right turn, leading them toward a building, before he continued.
“You didn’t want her to be alone, so you held her hand during her final moments. I stood next to you.”
She had been brave, smiling through her tears as each breath came harder than the previous one. She’d told him, in accented English, of her dream that she’d never see fulfilled. Donghae had strained to hear her words, to make them make sense.
My soulmate and I. Build own house. Own hands. Paint walls. Our story.
“She was an art student. She wanted to build her own house with her soulmate, and paint the walls of their home with their story. It’s not an uncommon fantasy growing up.”
She couldn’t have been older than twelve. And soulmarks appeared at age thirteen. She didn’t even live to see what it would look like. Donghae’s scar ached for the girl whose name or face he could not recall.
Hyukjae’s chuckle was soft, fond. They were heading up steps now, and Donghae wondered which of the many doors belonged to them. “Yeah. You’d looked exactly like that too when you told me what you wanted to do when we returned.”
“What…” Donghae cleared his throat. It was easy to guess what happened afterward, but still he wanted to hear it. Needed to hear it. “What did I say?”
They stopped before a door, Hyukjae lifting the keypad and punching in numbers. The blue light flashed green as the passcode was accepted, a lock clicking as the gate swung open. Donghae wasn’t sure which had his body pulsing; Hyukjae’s answer, or fear of what he might find in the apartment. As it turned out, they were connected either way.
Hyukjae stepped out of his sandals and into the apartment, Donghae right behind, gaze lowered to the ground. Afraid despite the intense orange of the sunset glaring at his side profile. Or perhaps because it was too bright, and he would be forced to take in every detail, even those he might not be ready to see.
“You told me,” Hyukjae murmured, hand reaching back to take his, and Donghae wondered not for the first time that day how he just knew. “You wanted to fulfil her dream. You wanted her to watch from Heaven the stories you would paint from Earth.”
“I sure sound like I was devoted to the cause.”
“You were.” Hyukjae’s thumb was rubbing its magical circles again, but Donghae was finding it difficult to breathe over the emotions choking him. They turned into a room; there was dried paint where his feet were planted, and he wondered if Hyukjae had been working before he received the call from the hospital. “Hae? Look up.”
Donghae gave himself two beats before tilting his chin up to the low ceiling and the gasp left him before he could take in the painting. It was by no means an astonishing work that would gather critics for a heated discussion; it was... intimate . As the sky outside darkened to twilight, Donghae could see the faint glow of the incomplete painting of the soulmark he’d seen over Hyukjae’s chest.
“We were working on it together. I was adding the finishing touches with phosphorescent paint when the call came.”
If he thought breathing was difficult before, in that moment, he completely forgot how to. More than his next breath, Donghae craved connection. It was a need he felt deep in his bones, and he tugged on their joined hands, Hyukjae stumbling into his arms for a crushing hug.
“Sorry, I…”
Hyukjae held him tight. “I know. It’s okay.”
They stood like that, embracing, Donghae seeking comfort for something he was still trying to understand and Hyukjae offering it readily. An eternity might have passed before Donghae loosened his hold and pulled away, cheeks surely a deep crimson. It was a pleasant surprise to find Hyukjae looking equally flushed, and they bumped their foreheads together.
“Cleaning up the house can wait till the morning, I suppose?”
“Definitely.”
They were smiling when their lips met in what started as a chaste kiss before it turned frantic with hunger. Soul deep hunger, as if their souls recognised the distance that had been between them the past few months. Eager tongues met as they fell onto soft bedding—so it was the bedroom. They engaged in playful scuffle for a short moment, Donghae willingly letting himself be pinned under and sighing into Hyukjae’s mouth.
Then Donghae felt something poking against his thigh and his eyes blinked open in surprise.
“Crap. Sorry. Uh, please ignore that,” Hyukjae muttered, burying his face in Donghae’s neck, lips hovering beneath the softness of his earlobe. “It’s a natural reaction to having you on our bed and in my arms. I swear I don’t have any ulterior motive.”
“None at all?” Hyukjae was babbling. It was adorable, fresh, and made Donghae want to tease him. “That’s a little disappointing.”
Holy shit, he was flirting with Hyukjae.
Above him, Hyukjae released a groan and let himself fall over next to Donghae, showing him his back. “Christ, Hae. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”
He licked his lips, wondering if the taste on his tongue was his or Hyukjae’s. “Sorry. I think I’m just a little floaty at the moment. Can we at least cuddle?”
The roll over was instant, Donghae suddenly held in a koala hug. It was nice. Just the two of them, cuddling in bed, the world around them silent. Well, as silent as it could possibly be on a weekend evening in the city. Donghae reached for his phone to text his family about not returning for the night, and he swore he could hear his mother’s cries and see his brother’s smile in their replies.
“We should probably take a shower before we sleep.”
“Seconded.” They stunk, but neither man made the first move, content where they were. Donghae decided it was impossible to keep any secrets from Hyukjae. Seeing what they’d built together in the city, he realised again how their lives were as intertwined as any two individuals could be. How he wanted to find that back. The darkness of the moonless night, too, helped give him courage for the words.
“Dr Choi recommended soul therapy sessions.”
Donghae felt Hyukjae’s frown against his cheek. “What sessions now?”
He laughed at the sense of dejavu, at how similar their reactions were. “What? Did I say anything funny?” Donghae just shook his head, though there was little space to move as tightly held he was. He repeated what Siwon had told him of soul therapy, leaving out their private conversation about the doctor’s own experience. After his initial question, Hyukjae listened without interruption.
“So… yeah. What do you think?”
“What do you think?” Hyukjae shot back. “Dr Choi didn’t ask me to stay because he wanted it to be your decision, right?”
“Well, yeah. My decision is for us to decide together. It’s not just my life that’d be impacted, it’s ours.”
“Ours, huh?” Hyukjae held onto him tighter. “Damn if I don’t like hearing you say that.”
“Focus!” Though Donghae was grinning too.
“Mmm. We can check out the website together after cleaning up. Or maybe head back and ask our family for their input too.”
Yeah. Donghae really liked the sound of that—having the power of choice, along with guidance to make one.
×××
The decision to partake in group soul therapy sessions was the right one, or so Donghae told himself. His first session, he’d gone with Hyukjae, a total of eight plus three kin and their therapist in a room of the building connected to Bohyung Hospital. The envy in the eyes of those who had yet to find their soulmate proved too painful, and by the third session Donghae convinced Hyukjae to let him attend alone.
There was a kid, barely legal, that Donghae found a friend in. He went by the name of Jeno, and he had been born with half a soulmark. The pain from it kept him up on most nights, and tired of relying on medication, he’d signed up half a year ago. It was somewhat humbling to learn of others who were in similar yet so different circumstances.
Then Jeno stopped coming, leaving Donghae and the rest worried and confused. He never got the kid’s contact number, and he regretted not doing so. After not seeing Jeno for three consecutive sessions, Donghae had to ask, just in case.
“Hey. I just wanted to check if… is Jeno...okay?”
The therapist blinked at him through thick rimmed glasses, “Why, yes. The young man’s been spending his time with the scientists as a volunteer.”
A volunteer.
And perhaps the way he went looking for Jeno after was part of fate too. The kid had dark circles under his eyes, but he was more than willing when a scientist tapped on his shoulder, lying back down and letting his soulmark be examined.
What are they doing? He’d asked.
They’re looking into reversing the Soulocation damage to soulmarks. With the right match, the dead or the dying may be able to help us with theirs.
How can that possibly work? Wouldn’t you inherit the memories of the dead instead?
God, it slipped my mind that you forgot the whole law of nature for a sec. It’s not like an organ transplant. You don’t replace your soulmark with the deceased’s, you’re inheriting its life force in an attempt to heal yours.
When put that way, it sounded terrifyingly convincing. It was still in the early stages of R&D, and it wasn’t something the hospital wanted to make public just yet.
Why did you volunteer? There were obviously a lot of unspoken risks involved. Of course there were—it was in direct relation to their soul .
And the kid had shrugged, grinning as he rubbed over his exposed soulmark. Well, if I don’t have a chance at finding mine anymore, might as well make myself useful, right? You’re fortunate among the unfortunate, hyung. To have Hyukjae hyung.
It reminded him of Siwon and their exchange.
That night, Hyukjae was sleeping over at his place—they were taking it slow. Slow and steady, or however that saying went. You’re fortunate, Jeno had told him. And laying on the man’s arm like a pillow as they flipped through memories, Donghae’s fingers curled around Hyukjae’s soulmark, the question just slipped.
“Lee Hyukjae, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”
“Of course.”
Donghae blinked, mind still not quite fully registering the weight of Hyukjae’s easy agreement. Then Hyukjae laughed, the sound bursting from him so freely Donghae froze, just drinking in the sight. Seconds passed the minute mark, and Donghae swatted his now-fiancé on the chest when he showed no signs of stopping. “What’s so funny?”
There was wetness in Hyukjae’s eyes as he shook his head and drew Donghae into his arms, burying his face in the crook of his neck, something he realised Hyukjae did often. His arms went around Hyukjae naturally now, stroking his back, unsure of the meaning behind those tears. “Hyuk?”
Donghae felt the man smile against his skin before he pulled away, just to cup Donghae’s cheek, eyes shimmering with unshed tears and love. He found that the smile was not a smile, but rather a contagious ear splitting grin.
“I love you,” Hyukjae said, voice shaky, allowing Donghae to see all of his vulnerabilities. “Even on the days where I felt as though I didn’t, I did. Soulmark or not, you’re the same man, my soulmate, my love. I love you so much, words can’t seem to justify it. My husband.”
Before that night they shared in their apartment and every night since, baring the very depths of their souls , Donghae might’ve shrank away at the mention of soulmates in this tender moment with which Hyukjae spoke with such intensity. Now he saw it for what it is; a fact, as sure as his given name, birthday, and the man he was to marry soon. Everything was not the same and nothing close to perfect, but everything also told him he was on the right track, that he’d asked at the right time.
“Me too.”
And Donghae, being who he was, spent the night communicating how much feelings he’d fit into those two words. Everything was going to be just fine. Perhaps one day, too, Hyukjae would be able to tell him the reasons behind his tears.
Epilogue
It took years for a breakthrough in the medical field to happen, and a little more for the proposal to get through the government.
They were nearly a decade into their marriage when the call came through, with them in MonkeyTiger Paint and Hyukjae covered in paint, Donghae looking through emails from customers.
We found a match for Donghae-ssi.
There were no words for the emotions they’d both felt in that moment, as Siwon went through the in-depth process of the surgery with them over the phone, then ended with a promise to send them an email containing all the information they’d need to make their final decision. Knowledge was power, after all, and the doctor could clearly tell the couple needed time.
“Call me anytime if you have any queries at all. Really.”
Siwon’s voice was tight with emotion. The doctor had gone far and beyond his duties to help the two in any way he could, and Donghae would be eternally grateful to the man he now considered his friend. One day, Donghae would like to repay the favor, but only if Siwon was willing to let him—them— get close enough for that.
“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” Hyukjae was whispering in his ear later. “I’m perfectly content with the life we have now. You’re what makes me happy.”
Donghae smiled. That was sweet; they were words that would’ve made him soar before, but now reinforced their relationship. Perhaps Hyukjae thought Donghae’s silence was due to hesitation. He turned his face to capture Hyukjae’s lips in a soft kiss.
“I’m not having second thoughts about the surgery, Hyuk. The worst that can happen is just this lump of dead tissue changing its shape to one that’s not what we’ll be wanting. I’m not particularly attached to the way it looks now.”
Hyukjae grimaced. “And I’m not particularly a fan of the way you’re describing your scar. That’s our soulmark you’re talking about.” And as if to prove his point, Hyukjae took his time loving what first brought them together, then nearly tore them apart. But perhaps soulmates were more than just their soulmarks, if they were able to fall in love despite.
Neither soulmark nor memories come back all at once, as they already expected. It didn’t stop a small part of them from being disappointed that a miracle didn’t happen. Then they shook that thought away with a small—they had enough miracles to last several lifetimes. There was a glimmer of hope when they managed to make out a curve of the moon the day the nurse redressed the bandage.
Some days, Donghae would wake up before sunrise, all excited while Hyukjae continued sleeping like a log, dashing about the house, sometimes out of it. More often than not he’d wake their dog, Choco. Then he’d grin and cheer, yelling for Hyukjae the second he stepped back indoors. And Hyukjae, usually awake by then, would smile as Donghae came up to him, exchanging a kiss despite morning breath and asking against the man’s lips, “What did you remember this time?”
And on others, it would be an altered memory righting itself in Donghae’s mind in his sleep, in the form of a dream where he’d be alone… and then he wasn’t.
But mostly, they just lived their everyday life as they were—a married couple who were very much in love, running a paint store with an untold story. Nothing more, nothing less. And Donghae wouldn’t ask for anything else.
End.