Archive of Our Own

The doorbell chimes just as Daehyun sneezes loudly. His head throbs with both the sound and the explosion coming from his nose despite the double painkillers he took about an hour ago. A bleary eye focuses on the clock to the left of the currently muted TV showing some rendition of a talent show. No one should be ringing the doorbell at five-thirty and Daehyun opts to ignore it and snuggles deeper into his mound of blankets.

The doorbell rings again after about twenty seconds, followed by a light knock. Daehyun groans as he peels his eyes open, having just decided that nodding off would be preferable to his current state of suffering. He gingerly pulls his arms out of his cocoon of warmth before bracing himself and throwing off the blankets completely. Cold air immediately hits his body, the three layers he’s wearing doing hardly anything to stop his teeth from chattering or the chill down his spine. Getting up requires much more effort than usual as his balance is all but screwed due to the flu stuffing his nose and pounding his head. Small shuffled steps are all he can manage as he makes it into their cramped little hallway and flicks on the light, one arm tucked around himself to try and preserve some heat. He flings the door open in one go, more than ready to give whoever disturbed him a piece of his mind, when he stops short and blinks instead.

“Youngjae?”

“The one and only!” The other beams, a full-blown smile on his face. His voice turns apologetic when he takes in Daehyun’s shaky appearance.

“I’m sorry I made you get up, I forgot my keys.” He shakes his head a little at his own forgetfulness, already taking one of Daehyun’s arms to guide him back to the living room. Daehyun huffs, or tries to, and ends up coughing painfully into the crook of his arm. By the time he’s done, Youngjae has already closed the door and taken off his jacket, arms once again leading Daehyun to the couch.

The man lets the other push him back down onto the soft furniture and enjoys the care of being piled with blankets. He frowns a little when his thoughts catch up in his flu-addled mind.

“I thought you had to work late today?”

Youngjae’s eyes shoot to his, a small smile on his lips as he turns off the TV no one was watching anyway. “They let me go early-”, he frowns when his hands find Daehyun’s burning forehead, “-to take care of my boyfriend who obviously needs it.”

He plops himself on the edge of the couch as he purses his lips. “Did you not take those painkillers I gave you?”

Daehyun rolls his eyes, letting his head sink into the couch cushion when the motion aggravates his headache. “I did! I’m not a child.” The notion is immediately contradicted with a petulant whine when Youngjae takes his cool hand off of Daehyun’s head, earning the older male a fond gaze and a chuckle as he glares at his healthy boyfriend.

“Did you come home just to laugh at my agony?”

That earns him a smirk and an eye-roll as Youngjae gets up and walks back to the hall and into their kitchen, his voice trailing behind him.

“You’re not dying Dae, it’s really just a flu!”

Daehyun sighs dramatically, a smile forming at the familiar banter he and Youngjae can entertain at any time. “Alas, this is the end of Jung Daehyun. He went far before his time, leaving this cruel world that much darker without his brilliant wit and gorgeous smile to-hey!”

Something cold gently smacks him in the face and Daehyun peels the thing off before staring at the half-thawed cold-pack wrapped in a kitchen towel in obvious disgust. He tries to throw the thing off of the couch but Youngjae intercepts his hand and smooshes the cold package back to Daehyun’s forehead.

“Keep that on there for a bit, okay?”

“But it’s cold,” Daehyun mumbles, another shiver coursing through his heat-deprived body even though the cold-pack feels wondrous against his steaming head. The stupid contradiction makes Daehyun sigh as he stares forlornly at Youngjae flicking through channels while simultaneously keeping the cold-pack in place.

“Being ill sucks,” he sulks, tired eyes blinking gloomily at Youngjae as the latter settles on a movie Daehyun vaguely recognizes but isn’t the least bit interested in, not when his boyfriend is sitting so close, having come home early to take care of Daehyun.

Youngjae just hums in agreement as he gets up and turns off a few of the lights, Daehyun’s eyes following him from his position on the couch; head tilted  back to keep the cold-pack from sliding off. When he’s done, Youngjae walks back, plucking the pack off for just a second before settling in next to Daehyun and pulling the older male into his chest. The cold pack is once again placed on his head but Daehyun simply hums in contentment as he relaxes into the warmth of Youngjae. A strong arm hugs Daehyun from behind, a kiss being pressed to his hair as both men settle in for the evening. The soft voices from the TV coupled with Youngjae’s rhythmic breathing and soft petting of Daehyun’s hair eventually lull the older male into a deep and restful sleep.

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Daehyun knows something is up as soon as he opens the door to their apartment.

“Youngjae?” He stage-whispers into the completely dark apartment, eyes nervously flitting from left to right as he tries to discern anything in the varying shades of black. Nothing but silence greets him as he turns on the barely helpful hall-light and slowly closes the door. His bag falls from limp hands and Daehyun fishes his cellphone from his pocket to use as a flashlight.

“Yoo Youngjae!?”

Still nothing but silence. Glancing quickly into the tiny kitchen on his right and finding it suspiciously empty, Daehyun debates whether to walk forward and check their bedroom, or to first check out their ominously pitch-black living room to his left. After a two second screaming-session in his head, Daehyun chooses the living room and bravely walks forward, his hands shaking and eyes darting back and forth.

“Okay, Youngjae, whatever you’re do-AAAAAH!!”

There’s a fucking something on the ceiling, its claw extended towards Daehyun, and it’s moving. In complete and utter panic Daehyun drops his phone, feet franticly backpedaling as he falls to the floor in a scramble. His heart is ready to beat out of his chest, horrified thoughts of ‘where the fuck is Youngjae?!’ racing around in his head as the thing on the ceiling keeps twitching in the low glow of Daehyun’s phone.

That’s when Daehyun hears a strange huffing come from further in the room and for a split-second his mind is convinced that whatever is on the ceiling isn’t alone and this is it, this is how he dies. Then he narrows his eyes as the sound becomes familiar and screams.

“Youngjae, what the fuck!!”

Laughter explodes from further back and suddenly the room is awash in light. Daehyun has to blink a few times before he can accurately identify the thing on the ceiling as a bundle of cloth tied together with string out of which sticks a mannequin arm featuring a grotesque, three-fingered claw.

Daehyun goes red-faced from embarrassment and annoyance: it was a fucking prank. His eyes narrow at Youngjae as he jumps to his feet.

“You almost gave me a heart-attack!” He yells incredulously. He marches over to the still laughing hunched over figure of his boyfriend, eyes warily watching the ever-twitching bundle of junk somehow stuck to the ceiling.

When he stands in front of Youngjae, the latter finally calming down a bit, he crosses his arms and stares hard.

“I just had a ten-hour shift, and this is your idea of a warm welcome?” Daehyun flings his arm to the thing and swallows once to try and mask the hurt in his voice. It’s not so much the stupid joke that has him so annoyed, but the fact that Youngjae does it today. It’s currently their four-year anniversary and Daehyun was sure Youngjae would never forget something like that. Daehyun spent three weeks painstakingly hiding a signed copy of one of Youngjae’s favorite writer’s new books around the apartment, and the younger does this.

Has he actually forgotten?

“You should have seen your face,” Youngjae chuckles, wiping some stray tears out of the corners of his eyes, “I didn’t even know your voice could go that high!”

Daehyun cannot share the joy in Youngjae’s voice and feels extremely tired and done as he watches his boyfriend dissolve into another bout of laughter. He’s not angry persé, just … why today?

Youngjae starts straightening up again, a sweet smile on his face, but Daehyun turns on the spot and stalks back to the hall. He snatches his bag off of the floor and yanks out his present; the only safe thing to do had eventually been to just start taking the gift to work with him.

“Dae, wait! What are you-”

Daehyun cuts him off by re-entering the living room and literally throwing the book at his head which causes Youngjae to only barely catch it before it breaks his nose.

“Happy damn anniversary.” He grumbles, before immediately turning around again lest Youngjae should spot the extra shine to his eyes. In a burst of childish payback he yanks on the stupid arm above his head and barely flinches when he hears it crash down behind him. His bag is picked up and he’s already half-way out the door when Youngjae is suddenly just there.

“Dae, shit, no wait!” The younger is pulling his arm and sounds so scared that Daehyun allows himself to be tugged back inside. The front door falls closed and Daehyun refuses to look the other in the eye. It’s petty and childish but this week has been very long and exhausting and Youngjae forgot.

“Come on Dae, please just look at me. I’m sorry about the prank, okay, I’m sorry.”

And he means it. Daehyun can hear it in Youngjae’s voice, but the hurt still stays.

“You forgot.” Daehyun whispers to the floor, eyes still stubbornly anywhere but Youngjae. “You forgot because you were too busy with a stupid claw.”

There’s silence, loud and heavy, in their tiny little hallway. Youngjae’s hands are still gripping Daehyun’s arm and the air feels thick. He starts to pull Daehyun back to their living room. “Dae please, just look, okay?”

And Daehyun follows because he’s tired and done and he fucking loves this stupid idiot who has trouble navigating between being bloody brilliant and effortlessly putting his foot in his mouth.

Daehyun sighs, exhausted and long, as he stumbles into the living room. “Look at what, Jae?”

He looks up, unsure as to why he’s still going along with this, and then he freezes. Youngjae stands next to him, his face not so much nervous as terrified as he stupidly waves a bit at the strip of cloth now hanging from the ceiling.

Daehyun puts two and two together and figures the bundle of cloth had actually been a banner that would come down when pulling the weird arm.

A banner reading the words ‘Will you marry me?’

Daehyun honestly doesn’t know what he’s feeling right now. His mouth drops open as he stares wide-eyed at the question he himself had been playing with for the past three months. A part of him marvels at the time and effort no doubt put into the beautifully colorful and swirling letters adorning the long, sown, strip of white cloth.

Daehyun blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“How does a prank become a marriage proposal?”

Youngjae groans, “I don’t know?” His hands grip at his hair in clear frustration before he goes off on an animated tangent. “It’s just, you always said you wanted to be surprised?! But what did that leave me with, huh? You hate clichés, swallow any bite you take whole, and simply laugh in my face if I suggest any outdour activity! On top of all that, you just don’t get surprised, Dae, not even a little bit, you just …” Youngjae flaps his hands as he flounders to think of a way to describe how extremely unsurprised Daehyun gets.

“The only time I ever saw you get surprised was when we watched that horror movie that didn’t let me sleep for a week!”

Daehyun smiles a little; he remembers that. He remembers Youngjae clinging to him like a monkey because of a bad dream or the irrational fear something was hiding under the bed. He, however, does not remember a strange alien arm sticking out of the ceiling and eyes Youngjae wearily. The other has sunk to his knees, his hands fiddling with the creepy hand now lying on the floor, serving as a ballast to keep the banner straight.

Clever

Youngjae stands up again, eyes downcast and jaw set as he gingerly presents whatever it is he needed to pluck from an alien claw.

It’s a little jewelry box.

“I’m sorry, I’m just … I’m sorry,” Youngjae mumbles. His hand trembles as Daehyun carefully takes the box and opens it. The ring is plain silver with a black infinity sign carved into it. One half of the sign holds the letter ‘D’ and the other a ‘Y’. Daehyun can’t rip his eyes from the heartwarming sight and finally feels himself unwind from the past week, year, everything. His body floods with warmth as all the implications this little ring holds brighten his life until infinity.

Youngjae didn’t forget.

Youngjae wants to marry him.

“Yes.”

Youngjae’s head shoots up from where he’s been somberly staring at the floor.

“What?”

Daehyun smiles, a bubble of intense happiness making him laugh as he suddenly regards the prank from before in an entirely new light. “Yes, you idiot, I’ll marry you.”

Youngjae is speechless, his mouth opening and closing as Daehyun calmly slips on the ring and instantly loves the feel of it on his finger. He regards the younger with a smirk even as his heart threatens to burst with happiness. Youngjae’s still staring with wide eyes and a certain amount of skepticism.

“Really? You’re not pissed off?”

Daehyun snorts and easily closes the space between them, arms encircling the younger in a tight embrace. “I don’t care about some silly prank, okay, I just-”, he breathes in Youngjae as the younger hugs back, “I just thought you forgot.”

“I’m really sorry,” Youngjae murmurs. “I’m really, really, really sorry for messing this up, but you’re an idiot if you think I would forget.”

He pulls back just a little bit to place a soft kiss on Daehyun’s lips. “I’ll never forget the day I met my happily ever after.”

Daehyun snorts again. “That’s cheesy.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

They’re still loosely hugging, their foreheads pressed together as Daehyun feels giddy thinking he’s now holding onto his fiancé.

“I still can’t believe you proposed by means of a prank.”

Youngjae huffs out a laugh and a groan. “Yeah, it didn’t really go as planned.”

“You think?”

Youngjae laughs again, his breath mingling with Daehyun’s in a surprisingly pleasant way. “For one, it was supposed to be me who never let you live this down, not the other way around.”

At that Daehyun pulls back, a smirk on his face as he boops Youngjae’s nose in a way he knows the other secretly loves. The younger tries to pull away, mock-pouting and mock-glaring at Daehyun’s hand, but Daehyun simply pulls him back when he notices the wetness to Youngjae’s eyes. He nuzzles Youngjae’s neck and mumbles.

“It was the most surprising proposal ever, and I love it. I love you; the one and only Yoo Youngjae.”

Youngjae drops his head on Daehyun’s shoulder. “The one and only idiot, you mean.”

“My idiot.” Daehyun chides, smiling against Youngjae’s skin as he presses a soft kiss against it.

Daehyun hears the other smiling as well as Youngjae squeezes him tight. “I can deal with that.”

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Daehyun is late, damn it he’s late. He should have left about half an hour earlier since he’d promised Youngjae he’d cook tonight, but work is just, well … not working!! He sighs, eyeing the three files left on his desk with the evilest stare he can muster and grumbles under his breath as he finishes reading something about energy input, energy output, blablabla, there’s a pretty graph, it’s fine.

With a quick flick he marks his approval and starts working his way through something detailing the import and export of tuna. Daehyun reminds himself that he likes owning a restaurant, he likes it, he likes it, he likes it. He also most certainly does not groan in defeat when he feels his phone vibrating and reads Youngjae’s name on the display.

I’m dead

“Hey babe!” Daehyun forces extra cheerfulness into his voice as he furiously scans the page in front of him and decides it looks credible enough. Two more to go.

“You’re still at work, aren’t you.”

Daehyun freezes, his eyes jumping up to stare at the empty restaurant in front of him and wondering if Youngjae is somehow tapping into the security feed.  He tries to laugh it off as his eyes nervously shift from side to side; he can hear the sounds of a running car in the background meaning Youngjae is driving back home…right?

“Why would you say that, you know I’m cooking tonight.”

Youngjae just laughs and Daehyun frowns. “Youngjae?”

“What? You honestly think I don’t know you yet?” Youngjae says sweetly, a smile seeping into his words. It makes Daehyun relax a little and he sighs into the phone.

“I’m sorry Jae, there was just a lot more to do than I thought.” He picks up the other two files and simply signs them without looking, he trusts Jimin to know what she’s doing. “I’ll leave right now and then I’ll be there at,-” Daehyun checks his watch as he starts turning off the lights, “-at around seven. That’ll leave me enough time for a nice pasta, okay?”

His bag is easily slung over a shoulder and Daehyun foregoes shrugging into his jacket, he’s got a car anyways. Youngjae laughs again and hums on the other end.

“That’s fine Dae, but I expect greatness at our wedding!! I’m not marrying a cook for nothing, yah know,” he teases. There’s a patch of warmth growing in Daehyun’s belly as he remembers that in seven weeks’ time, he and Youngjae will be husbands. He breathes out a little ‘yeah’, mind lost in thought until Youngjae brings him back down to earth.

“Speaking off, did you get your guest list all sorted out? I know you’ve got that thing with your parents and-”

Daehyun cuts him off, “I got it all sorted, don’t worry. My mom isn’t coming so there’s honestly no problem anymore.”

Youngjae is silent for a little bit as Daehyun fiddles with the locks. “I’m sorry Dae, I’d hoped … Are you okay?”

Daehyun smiles at Youngjae’s heartfelt worry and assures the other, “I’m okay Jae, I’ll be okay.”

Another sigh and Daehyun unlocks his car, hurrying to get out of the cold. After he’s closed the door and leaned back in his seat, Youngjae is still silent. Daehyun frowns and decides to stop this gloomy mood once and for all, his mother has done enough wrecking with his life; she will no longer get in the way of Daehyun’s happiness.

“Besides-” he quips, making sure to be loud and cheesy, “-I’ve got you, the one and only Yoo Youngjae, to help heal my poor, scarred heart.”

The extra dramatics make Youngjae giggle; a sound Daehyun is sure he’ll never grow tired of.

“Oh god, stop, we’re not even at the honeymoon-phase yet. How much cheesier are we gonna get?!”

Daehyun barks out a laugh at that, his eyes casting around for the hands-free headset he knows is somewhere in the front.

“Though I agree that I’m pretty important for your health, lord knows you’d never leave the kitchen if I wasn’t there to drag you outside every once in a while.”

“Hey! I resent that! I do so go outside.” Daehyun counters, phone currently squished between his shoulder and ear as he rummages around in the dashboard. “And if you’d agree to a dog, I’d go outside even more.”

“First off, sticking your head out of a window isn’t ‘going outside’, no matter how many times you do it. Secondly, we can’t get a dog because we’ve both got full-time jobs Dae, we’ve been over this.”

Daehyun sighs, they really have been over this, but it would just be so nice.

“Also, I’ve already got one baby to take care of, I don’t think I can handle a second one right now.”

Youngjae is smirking, Daehyun can hear it, and it takes the older male a second before he realizes that he is the baby.

“Hey!” He whines, dragging the sound out simply to hear Youngjae laugh.

“Honestly Dae, I’m still amazed you’re actually a cook with the amount of burns and cuts you garner every week. I’ve literally got our doctor on speed dial, just in case.”

Daehyun rolls his eyes as he sinks back into his seat. Having given up on trying to find his earphones, he wonders if he should risk driving home with one hand.

“Those are just occupational hazards,” he sulks.

Youngjae full out laughs, his voice warm and soothing, “’Occupational hazards’ my ass, it’s a miracle you still have all of your fingers! I’m seriously wondering how you managed to survive without me for that long.”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m marrying you then,” Daehyun shoots back cheekily, “that way I’ll always have you around to save me.”

Youngjae snorts, smiling through his words. “Yup, your personal babysitter, for better and for-”

There’s a high-pitched screech, a cut off yell and the tell-tale sound of crashing metal. Daehyun stops breathing, stops moving, stops existing as the call dies and he’s left listening to the fast-paced dial tone. The world is full of muffled sounds and his back is awash with a cold sweat, his stomach having fallen somewhere to the middle of the earth.

Daehyun doesn’t remember driving to the hospital, but he remembers everything after.

He remembers shaking so bad he can’t breathe, remembers pacing up and down the waiting room with hands twisting his hair, remembers the two police officers who tell him a truck-driver fell asleep behind the wheel because he was running a triple shift, remembers whispering prayers to deities he has never believed in or spoken to before, remembers a doctor walking out with so much fucking regret in her eyes that Daehyun collapses to his knees before she says a word.

He remembers Youngjae dies on the operating table, at three minutes past eight on a Tuesday evening due to extensive head trauma, and that Daehyun dies with him.

He remembers.

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(Six months later)

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The doorbell rings out piercingly in the otherwise silent apartment. Daehyun sighs before forcing himself up from the couch and testing out a smile on his face. It doesn’t feel as forced as a few months ago which he counts as a win.

On the other side of the door are four men, all with hesitant smiles and open faces. The tallest of the four steps shakily forward, a gentle hand offered out for Daehyun to shake.

“My name is Junhong. It’s very nice to meet you in person Mr. Jung.”

The kid, for Daehyun knows the boy is only nineteen, has a firm handshake and Daehyun does his best to smile kindly. He manages to hide his own discomfort quite well in the white-knuckled hand behind his back as he gestures for them all to come in.

“You can just go through to the living room and put your jacket wherever.”

Youngjae would have scolded Daehyun for his horrible manners as a host, not even taking their jackets or having drinks ready, but Daehyun hopes the four men currently standing awkwardly in his living room will forgive him. He smiles painfully as he imagines Youngjae puttering around, giving Daehyun a half-hearted glare as he makes their guests comfortable and cracks jokes.

In reality though, the apartment stays oppressively quiet as Daehyun closes the door and sits in the armchair under the window; it used to be Youngjae’s favorite reading spot.

“Please, sit down.” Daehyun attempts to smile again, hoping the nod of his head is as comforting as he wants it to be, but having no way of confirming this. The fact that they all find a place to sit is a step in the right direction, probably, hopefully.

Daehyun honestly hasn’t entertained anyone in a while and feels horribly out of place.

The man closest to him clears his throat and breaks the silence.

“My name is Yongguk.”

The man has a soft and low tone; it eases some of Daehyun’s nerves but doesn’t quite dispel the uneasy energy hanging in the room. A beat of silence follows, probably because they’re anticipating some sort of reaction from Daehyun, a reaction that doesn’t come. Yongguk quickly recognizes Daehyun’s silence and hesitantly keeps talking.

He points to the person being squished into the corner of the couch by Yongguk and Junhong. “This is Jongup-,” the kid gives a little wave and an awkward smile, “-and that’s Himchan.” Yongguk finishes by pointing out the black-haired male sitting on the arm of the couch next to Jongup, face nervous and serious at the same time, and fingers subconsciously playing with a loose thread of the couch.

Daehyun sends them all a polite nod, his eyes never straying away from Junhong for long or the way the boy doesn’t stop plucking at his collar. He knows from the information given to him by the hospital that Yongguk and Himchan are both twenty-nine and in a relationship, that Jongup is twenty-one and Junhong’s best friend, and that Yongguk and Junhong are brothers, their parents having died four years ago which resulted in Yongguk taking custody of his brother and the four men currently sitting on the couch growing extremely close. Daehyun knows their lives have been anything but easy, and yet he can’t help but feel an ugly jealousy at the close-knit relationships on display in front of him, can’t help but hate himself for feeling something so mean.

Silence once again descends upon them as the assembly on the couch starts exchanging frantic glances. Daehyun can see Youngjae roll his eyes in his mind’s eye and feels his heart constrict; trust the younger man to still be his better half even when gone.

His gaze once again lands on Junhong, this time out of more than merely morbid curiosity. He swallows the lump in his throat and licks his lips as he tries to relax his cramped muscles.

“I’m sorry, this is just-” his eyes shift from one person to another, ending on Junhong, the younger’s expression painfully open, before finally falling to the floor “-this is a bit more tense than I expected.”

It’s a true but loaded statement and Daehyun knows he should be trying harder, should be doing something to make the others feel more welcome, but his mind is drawing a disturbing blank. All he can think about is how Youngjae’s heart is currently beating away in Junhong’s body, the fact that his partner’s heart is still going strong, though everything else of Youngjae is buried six feet under.

Youngjae’s heart is literally sitting within reach and Daehyun had naïvely thought it would somehow make a difference, but the hurt and loss is still as strong as ever. The hole in his own soul still gapes and gnaws, causing him to have trouble functioning around the person who got to live because Youngjae died.

A silent snort comes from Jongup.

“It can’t get much tenser than the ride over.”

Himchan immediately slaps the younger boy’s shoulder as he hisses out a silent “not now!” Yongguk winces a bit and Junhong bites his lip, staring at Daehyun from under his eyelashes.

Daehyun can’t help it; he laughs. The others sit frozen as Daehyun doubles over, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes as he almost shakes apart with a desperate kind of mirth. Himchan is the first to comment.

“Are you …okay?”

Daehyun waves off his concern, finally straightening up and wiping tears from his cheeks, a few last wet chuckles coming out. The atmosphere has shifted drastically, a weight seemingly fallen from everyone’s shoulders in the wake of Daehyun’s outburst. He looks warmly at Jongup, the poor boy still squashed between his best friend and the couch arm.

“Youngjae would’ve laughed at that, so much.”

Jongup manages a small smile, eyes flicking nervously from Daehyun to Junhong which prompts the youngest to speak.

“I’m just-I really wanted to say, I’m so very sorry for your loss, and-”

Daehyun cuts him off, finally able to look without seeing Youngjae’s coffin, finally realizing that if the other had been here, he’d have chewed Daehyun out for letting this poor kid feel guilty about something that was completely out of his hands.

“You do not have to apologize or feel guilty or anything, okay.” Daehyun feels broken but warm as he remembers Youngjae’s pouty though stubborn expression that would change into a smile as soon as he got what he wanted, which was pretty much always. “He would have never let you.”

A tentative smile breaks out on Junhong’s face, squishing his cheeks up in a way Daehyun is sure Youngjae would have found utterly adorable.

“I wanted to thank you, though.” Yongguk says, hands clasped respectfully on his knees in front of him, drawing Daehyun’s attention. “I want to thank you for allowing my brother to receive – uhm, for not letting him, uhm…”

Yongguk’s eyes shoot nervously through the room, obviously unsure about the appropriate way of phrasing something this delicate.

“For not protesting against the transplant.” Himchan clarifies, a thankful little smile on his face.

Daehyun stares numbly and locks gazes with Yongguk. “What?”

Yongguk shrugs, uncomfortable with the topic in the way his eyes narrow. “There was a possible donor two days before, but their family refused the transplant.” Everyone looks uncomfortable at that, Himchan even seems a little angry. Daehyun can only blink dumbly as he looks at the kid sandwiched in between his brother and best friend. Someone had actually said ‘no’ to saving this boy.

The mood once again takes a plunge, dark memories resurfacing in the silence that follows. It’s pure and simple luck that makes Daehyun’s eyes wander and find the picture he’d haphazardly tucked into the bookcase about a week ago. The empty apartment had become almost unbearable, reminders of Youngjae around every corner resulting in Daehyun despairingly stuffing pictures in all kinds of nooks and crannies, only to painstakingly gather them all up again the next day. This one had clearly been missed, its brown frame cleverly disguising it, only the top part of the picture peeking out from above the books. The lights reflecting off of its shiny surface is precisely what catches Daehyun’s eye and gives him an idea.

He stands up and quickly walks over to the bookcase hugging the TV. The frame is easily plucked out from between the books and Daehyun’s heart clenches in bittersweet happiness. It’s a picture of the both of them together, taken by a complete stranger during their vacation in Europe. Both Youngjae and Daehyun are wearing shorts and cheesy, matching, sky-blue shirts with sunglasses tangled in their hair. Just before the picture had been taken, Youngjae had promptly dragged Daehyun into a headlock, causing both of them to have their eyes closed and mouths open in unabashed joy.

Daehyun walks back to his chair and sits on the edge, the picture loosely in his hands, as he takes a deep breath to calm his still frayed emotions. The others all regard him with curious and somewhat guarded expressions.

“Youngjae would have been the first to chew me out if I had tried to refuse.” Daehyun chuckles wetly, a swell of fondness and grief in his chest as he stares down at the photo. “No one could ever really tell him what to do, he wouldn’t let them. He was a force to be reckoned with once he made up his mind, and I respected him way too much to change something that meant so much to him.”

He looks up at Junhong to find intrigued eyes staring back.

“He would have been the first to save you if he could, Junhong, and I promise you that he’d be damn proud if he knew that part of him is helping you live your life.” A tear runs down his cheek as Junhong stares wide-eyed. “I’m damn proud you’re keeping part of him alive, so thank you.” Daehyun whispers, his voice catching a bit from emotion.

Junhong swallows a few times before he asks, “Is that him?” He nods towards the picture and Daehyun looks down while biting his lip. The others have fallen completely quiet, carefully watching the exchange as Junhong scoots forward just a little bit, hesitant but curious.

“May-may I..?”

The question hangs in the air, no one even daring to breathe. Daehyun nods slowly, his hands gripping the picture tight before he turns it around and hands it over. Yongguk also looks after receiving a nod from Daehyun, his eyes dragging over the picture and becoming glassy as he murmurs softly, almost reverently, “Thank you for saving my brother.”

One hand is holding Junhong’s knee in a white-knuckled grip and Daehyun understands. He might not know the exact feeling, the exact emotion that is making Yongguk unravel as he stares at a picture of the person who died and consequently saved his younger brother’s life, but Daehyun understands the desperation, the fear with which Yongguk grabs Junhong, assures himself his brother is alive only because of a horrible miracle.

Daehyun doesn’t understand completely, but he understands enough to leave the man in his moment without commenting.

It’s Junhong who places a tentative hand on the glass surface, shakily stroking the image of the man whose heart is now keeping him alive. His eyes are apologetic and pained for a moment, but then he smiles and nods his head in thanks, his voice ringing out soft and clear despite it sounding like an unconscious whisper.

“Yoo Youngjae.”

Daehyun smiles through his tears, nodding his head at Junhong as the younger looks up with something close to awe on his face.

“The one and only.”