Chapter Text
The proposal hadn’t been anything grand. After all, their lives had been promised to each other from the start. They were happy, growing up as neighborhood childhood friends—and when they found out they were each other’s soulmates the year they turned thirteen, it only seemed natural that love and marriage would eventually follow.
So Hyukjae had woken up that day, a rare morning where he was up before Donghae, who was naked just as he was, curled into his side. The sight made him smile, made him brush his lips against the man’s forehead, and lay his hand over his heart, where one’s soulmark was engraved.
It was warm, and it grew even hotter under Hyukjae’s palm, making his own soulmark pulse as well. Donghae’s eyes blinked open with a puzzled moan of content, then fluttered shut again as Hyukjae stretched his thumb to flick over a nipple in his way of a morning greeting.
“Good morning to you, too,” Donghae mumbled half asleep, arching his back to allow his soulmate easier access.
“I was just thinking—”
“Mmm, you thinking? Dangerous. They’re usually either bad ideas or bad ideas.”
Hyukjae couldn’t hold back the laugh at Donghae’s words that would’ve suited himself better. “I’m trying to be serious here, you dumbass.”
Donghae peered at him through one eye, assessing his words, and decided that this would be something worth his time, prompting Hyukjae with a raised brow. Hyukjae ceased with the teasing then, instead focusing on rubbing slow, wide circles around Donghae’s soulmark the way they used to teach in schools.
The massaging of soulmarks is an act of intimacy and trust, he remembered their teacher saying. Think of it as grooming in animals, but it’s reaching into your very soul. While never being a fan of paying attention in class, that had been their first after Donghae’s thirteenth birthday had passed, revealing an identical soulmark on his chest that reacted to Hyukjae’s touch. He believed that was why that particular lesson stuck with him to this day.
“Hae, would you like to get married?”
“Oh, sure.”
There was no pause before he answered, zero hesitation in his agreement.
“If it was anyone else, I would be concerned that they agreed without so much as a thought,” Hyukjae teased, already grinning wide imagining their sure to be chaotic wedding.
“But I’m your soulmate,” Donghae reasoned, mirroring his grin. “There isn’t anyone else.”
“How romantic,” Hyukjae chuckled before leaning in for a slow, deep kiss to convey his gratitude for what they shared. They really were a lucky pair, to have their parents close since high school, to have known each other since birth. They never had to search each other out like most others did, with some even passing before they had the chance to experience what life was like with a soulmate.
And that, Hyukjae thought, was probably why fate decided to throw them a curveball in the happiest stage of their life yet.
×××
“Our families never moved homes,” Hyukjae explained as he made a right turn, keeping his eyes on the road. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself to look at Donghae yet. Donghae, changed out of the ill-fitting hospital gown and looking just as he was before the accident—Hyukjae’s childhood friend, his lover, his fiance. His soulmate.
“You mentioned we’re neighbors?”
Donghae, who’d forgotten everything that had to do with soulmates. Everything that had to do with Hyukjae .
Hyukjae’s grip tightened on the wheel, resisting the urge to pry into his soulmate’s head just to see exactly what was left inside of it. No matter how much he replayed the explanation from Dr Choi in his head, it was simply beyond his ability to fully comprehend the fact that Donghae couldn’t remember a single thing about him despite their whole lives having been intertwined.
He was a fool for thinking, even for a second, that they were special enough that they would be able to avoid any risks that came with the Soulocate Surgery. Hyukjae forced himself to take deep breaths before he answered, “Yeah. Our families have been friends even before we were born. We’ve been neighbors our whole lives.”
Miracle pair, Hyukjae recalled giggling about the silly nickname they’d been given with Donghae on sleepover nights all those years ago. It’d all been in good fun, of course, but it seemed he’d taken the words to heart as a child without realising.
“...I don’t remember,” Donghae said, his voice flat with disappointment, and Hyukjae regretted his earlier thoughts. It was frustrating that Donghae couldn’t remember him, remember them , but how terrifying it must be as the one who’d woken up in a hospital bed one day to find out he knew nothing of soulmates, the very thing the world revolved around?
Once he pulled the car to a pause at the next red light, Hyukjae turned to Donghae, waiting for the man to look at him before offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile. All he really wanted to do, however, was to pull the man into his arms and pepper him with kisses and promises that never failed to calm him.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Donghae returned with his own tentative smile.
Words, Hyukjae noticed, did not come as easily to him as actions when in regards to Donghae. “I know words are cheap and I honestly don’t understand what you’re going through right now, but you’re my soulmate, Hae. That means I’m with you to the end. That’s the one thing I won’t allow you to doubt.”
“Soulmate,” Donghae tested the one word Hyukjae didn’t think he’d focus on on his tongue, and his smile this time was a little sad. “I think I’d like to learn more about that someday.”
His eyes shone with a kind of vulnerability Hyukjae understood all too well, one they’d taken years to overcome and put behind them. Years of progress that had been erased overnight, that no one knew if they would be able to get back.
A lump rose in Hyukjae’s throat as it dawned on him that he did not check if Donghae remembered a key memory; that his father had passed from illness years ago. It still pained both families to talk about the loss, and before the incident there still existed nights where Donghae would cling to Hyukjae in his sleep, sobbing the same way he had during the funeral. But they were already here, the car turning into the driveway shared by both Lee families.
“I’m a little nervous,” Donghae admitted as the engine died down, leaving only stillness within the car save the clicks of their seatbelts. “It’s stupid, I know, I just talked to my mom and brother over the phone last night, but what if the damage is worse that we thought and they’re completely different from what I remember?”
“Then we fill you in on what’s different,” Hyukjae answered patiently, though his heart raced at the lack of mention of his father. He wasn’t sure he could watch Donghae go through that again. He licked his lips, thinking of a way to be tactful about this before he ruined Donghae’s first day out of the hospital with altered memories.
“Okay,” he nodded when a relatively decent idea came to him.
“Okay?” Donghae parroted, tilting his head in that familiar way that made Hyukjae’s heart ache.
“Before we head in, why don’t you try recounting what you remember of your family? Like what Dr Choi asked back at the hospital.”
Donghae nodded and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths like he had back then.
×××
They agreed to a simple Q&A test once Donghae was three quarters recovered to see how much he remembered, and how his memory loss should officially be diagnosed. Dr Choi sat next to Donghae's bed on one of the cheap, plastic chairs the hospital offered visitors, a pen and clipboard at hand.
“Close your eyes, please. I’m going to ask you a few questions now, Donghae-ssi. Don’t think too much about the images that come to you, okay? I’d like to know the first thing that comes to your mind.”
“Okay. I’ll try.” Donghae tried not to let his voice waver, but his tense posture gave him away. Hyukjae stood next to him, hands on his shoulders. Just a reminder that he was here; thankful that Donghae allowed him to do that for him.
“First, can you tell me your name and birthdate?”
Hyukjae felt Donghae relax at the simple question, and he shot Dr Choi a smile of gratitude, to which she returned warmly.
“Name, Lee Donghae. Born 1986, October 15 in Mokpo, South Korea.”
That part of his memory, at least, had not been affected in any way. Hyukjae watched as Dr Choi scribbled away on her clipboard, and the thought of how anyone could decipher the mess that was a doctor’s handwriting passed his mind briefly.
“Alright, thank you for the introduction, Donghae,” the casual use of his name, her voice soothing and gentle, caused the man to sink further into the soft pillow cushion, as if hypnotised. “Could you share with me one favorite memory from your childhood?”
“Umm…”
They went to and fro like that for—Hyukjae glanced at the clock—only a little over ten minutes, though the anxiety that rose with every answer Donghae gave conflicting with his own memory made it seem much longer and unbearable.
Finally, Dr Choi nodded and sat back, twisting her neck that must’ve been sore. “Alright, Donghae-ssi, we’re done. Thanks for your cooperation. The nurse should be bringing in your meal in a minute or two. I hope you don’t mind if I borrow Hyukjae-ssi for a moment?”
Donghae looked between them, licking his dry lips before nodding. “Um, yeah. Sure. I hope it’s not anything bad.”
“Not at all,” Dr Choi said smoothly, and Hyukjae wondered how often she had to do that throughout her career. Telling her patients white lies. “In fact, you’re recovering just fine. Hyukjae-ssi, if you’d please.”
At her beckoning, Hyukjae let his arm fall from Donghae’s shoulder with a gentle pat and followed after the doctor, just out of earshot. He was afraid of what he would hear; it was how he felt each time the nurses and doctor wanted to speak with him the past two months. It made him wish both their families were here to share the burden, but God if that wouldn’t be selfish of him.
Your soulmate is your responsibility, and vice versa, they always said, words more sacred than wedding vows. This was simply the first time he had to come face to face with the full weight of what it meant to be soulmates, through thick and thin.
Hyukjae cleared his dry throat, willing himself to be calm. “Is Donghae going to be okay?”
“It’s true that he’s recovering well,” Dr Choi said, flipping through the notes on her clipboard. Comparing Donghae’s words and Hyukjae’s own recount of events. “But the damage to his soulmark, I believe, has altered his memories.”
“Altered memories?” The phrase was alien to Hyukjae, and he bounced on his feet as he anxiously waited for the doctor to explain in layman terms. Just metres away, he could see Donghae digging into his lunch with his brows pinched. Be it from concentration or annoyance or something else, Hyukjae couldn’t be sure.
A click of the pen brought his attention back to Dr Choi, who’d been in charge of Donghae for the last two months he’d spent recovering.
“Yes. I believe you’ve learnt in class that soulmarks are what bind soulmates together. To put it simply, it’s like a memory drive, holding all your time spent together within it. Now that it’s damaged, the memories relating to soulmates and all that’s connected to you are too. His brain is simply trying to cope with the missing pieces by filling them in the blanks with its own interpretation.”
“That’s…” Hyukjae looked past the doctor to his soulmate, mind swirling with a million thoughts. How would he explain this to their family? This was worse than what he had expected. What had he expected? The world spun at his feet. “Is there any way to get them back?”
Dr Choi shook her head, and Hyukjae’s heart sank.
“I can’t advise you on that as I don’t specialise in that field, Hyukjae-ssi. However ,” she continued, making him hope again, “I can refer you to another doctor in this hospital who does. My brother, Choi Siwon.”
×××
It always felt good to be back at their old home, no matter how happy they were together on their own since they moved out three years ago. Hyukjae watched as his almost mother-in-law and brother-in-law rushed up to crush Donghae in a three way hug, eyes red and voices hushed.
His own family came up to him; his mother throwing her arms around him, his father taking them both in his arms, his sister’s hand a weight of support on his back. Hyukjae allowed tears to fall for the first time since the accident, finally cracking after months of being strong for both Donghae and himself.
“I’m sorry,” Hyukjae whispered into his mother’s neck. “He doesn’t remember a thing about us.”
“No,” she cuts him off, gentle in her harshness despite nearly losing one of whom she raised like her own. “You brought him back to us in one piece despite the risks. We’re so grateful for that, Hyuk, and so, so very proud.”
Hyukjae’s relieved sobs are half whimpers at the words of affirmation from one of the most important people in his life. He made the right call. Donghae’s alive. That was enough. It had to be, because he didn’t know how to navigate life any other way.
×××
Hyukjae hated even thinking about it. If he could, he’d want nothing more than to leave a scar across his soulmark that’d erase that particular memory for good. The night he’d just been lying on the couch, admiring the glow in the dark painting on the ceiling he’d been working on. His excitement when he’d picked up the call from Donghae’s number, all flirty when he’d greeted, “Hey, soulmate.”
And a sharp, high pitched voice that’d answered, “Is this Lee Donghae’s soulmate speaking?”
“...Yes? And you are…”
“Please come down to the Bohyung Hospital ASAP. Your soulmate is in critical condition after a fire broke out at MonkeyTiger Paint.”
Hyukjae shot up on his feet, neither noticing nor caring that he knocked over a bucket of paint. “What?” At their shop? What was Donghae even doing there?
The caller didn’t even pause to acknowledge the shock her words brought upon, just yelled at someone in the back before returning, “The hospital needs your permission to perform a Soulocate Surgery on your soulmate. Please take note of the location I’m about to give you—”
He was out of the house within seconds, still in his old shirt and shorts, both stained with dried paint, pulling at his car door handle like a madman until he recalled he needed to unlock it first. Shit. Goddammit. Every second counted. A Soulocate Surgery? Fuck. He stepped on the gas, speeding through the empty night streets.
Directly related to one’s life, Soulocation was one of those things mandatory to know by heart. It was the process of relocating physical wounds to one’s soulmark, usually reserved as a desperate measure to save someone’s life. A soulmark had a strong life force, after all; it’s able to absorb damage and regenerate new cells faster than any other part of the human body.
Still, it was a last measure for good reason, and they were staring at Hyukjae right in his face, the words meshing into each other to form a black hole trying to suck him in. A whole page in fine print, listing out the risks he was taking by agreeing to the surgery in a tone that could only be impassive at best.
Hyukjae understood that official documents had to be phrased as such by law, he truly did—he thought he did. But standing here, now, being forced to read through the list of death, disability, memory loss in detail made his blood run cold.
“Look, I know this is a very tough decision for you to make, but your soulmate is losing time. We need your signature,” the nurse snapped, impatient. “Either we risk transferring the injuries to his soulmark, or he dies.”
Oh my God. Oh my God. Hyukjae wanted nothing more but to pass out, but he could almost smell the burn in the air, the smell of his soulmate dying. It’d be okay, he told himself, picking up the pen. They were lucky, luckier than most. This time wouldn’t be any different. His signature was illegible on the dotted line, but it did not matter, for it was there.
The form was snatched from him, the nurse barking out orders like an everyday task, which he supposed it was. “Get him in the surgery room, and get Dr Choi’s tools ready. You—” she turned her attention onto Hyukjae, and her expression softened in a way he thought wouldn’t be possible. “As difficult as it sounds, rest while you can. The surgery would be long, and your soulmate would need you once he is out.”
×××
The twist of the knob was smooth, the door swinging open with the ease it had even a decade ago. Donghae’s room looked the same as it was the day he moved out. Pulling the man’s luggage into the room, Hyukjae smiled as he saw the photos from their school days on the walls, barely a hint of dust over them.
Donghae picked up a photo frame from his desk, staring at it intently. Hyukjae knew it for what it was; their first trip together as soulmates after high school graduation, arms around each other at the beach, Hyukjae pressing a kiss to his cheek, both of them with wide smiles.
“What is this,” the man mumbled more to himself. “Why don’t I remember this?”
Ignoring the pain in his chest, Hyukjae stepped forward, gently prying the frame out of Donghae’s grip, where his knuckles had gone white. He didn’t dare look at it himself. “Dr Choi had explained about your condition, remember? The only thing we can do is—”
“—wait,” Donghae finished for him, bringing his hand up to rub at his chest, right over the well hidden scarred remains of his soulmark. “Nothing we can do at all until nature does its thing or something, was it?”
“Yeah.” Keeping his movements wide like one faced with a wounded animal might, Hyukjae rested his palm against the small of Donghae’s back and guided him to sit on the edge of his bed. “Let’s try and focus on settling in today, Hae. Everyone’s really excited to have you back. Everything else can come tomorrow. We’re not going anywhere.”
“And you?”
“Me?”
“You didn’t bring any luggage with you. You won’t be around?” Donghae asked, looking so lost and uncertain, so unlike his usual self Hyukjae couldn’t resist stroking the man’s cheek. When Donghae leaned into the touch, his smile came naturally.
“I didn’t take much when we moved out. I have everything I need to get by here. In fact, I’ll be sticking around like a parasite,” Hyukjae assured, truth in every word.
×××
“It doesn’t look hopeful,” Dr Choi admitted, laying out scans of Donghae’s soulmark on the table. Or what remained of it, anyway. Even in negative, the damage to the two moons that came together to form a whole made Hyukjae’s stomach churn, the once beautiful mark almost unrecognizable.
“It was a third degree burn fully relocated onto his soulmark… He’s lucky he’s alive, in all honesty. About a 0.17% chance of a full recovery in this lifetime, give or take.”
0.17%. God. If it had not been for the fact that he was already seated, Hyukjae would’ve sunk to the ground, lightheaded at the reminder of how close he’d come to losing his soulmate for good. At least Donghae was alive. For that, he’d always be grateful. Everything else would be alright, one way or another. He’d make sure of it.
“I’m sorry to say, but there’s little the medical field can do for Soulocation patients with our current technology. The recovery rate is fully dependent on Donghae-ssi.”
“I understand. I took the risk when I signed my consent. I won’t give up on my soulmate, no matter what.”
Siwon smiled, a mix of pity and respect. “You’re a good soulmate, Hyukjae-ssi. I’ll write up the application for an extended two month paid family leave the law allows. It’d be good to have you with him, both as emotional support, and as soulmates. Even if he doesn’t remember, just being in close proximity can do wonders for the soulmark.”
Hyukjae nodded his thanks, making mental notes. “That’d be great. Thank you for everything, Dr Choi.”
The doctor just shook his head, gathering up the overly intimate images of Donghae’s soulmark. “Not at all. It’s the only thing I can do for you right now.”
×××
It’s painfully awkward, Hyukjae had to admit. Donghae reassured that he’d be able to handle life going as they remember it, but he was obviously overwhelmed by the crowd when both their families gathered for breakfast the next day.
“I’m okay,” he said every time someone so much as peeped in his direction. “I’m fine. Don’t coddle me, please. I just need some time to absorb this.”
Still, they tried. That first week, Hyukjae took the seat opposite of Donghae at the table, even though they’d practically been inseparable since they were 13. They chatted about Donghae’s childhood; things like the way he’d follow his brother around on fours with a pacifier in his mouth, or his habit of flailing his limbs about whenever he’s excited or flustered. Things Hyukjae found himself listening intently to as well.
“You didn’t know?” Donghae asked quietly later, as they stood side by side, washing their dishes. “About the things we were talking about earlier.”
Hyukjae shook his head. “No. We know practically everything about each other, so I don’t think it ever crossed our minds to hear about stories that didn’t include both of us. It was nice, learning those things.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Then they fell into silence, the kind that lingered somewhere between comfortable and awkward, settling on neither as they could not come to a decision.
Despite his urge to be close to Donghae, Hyukjae found that it wasn’t likely to be something that was happening anytime soon. As far as Donghae was concerned, they were at best acquaintances who lived next to each other. He wasn’t sure what to do, wasn’t sure how to approach Donghae without casually resting against his back, or sliding an arm around his waist and pulling him close.
When they watched TV, they sat with a space between them, with a cushion or remote acting as some kind of wall keeping them apart. And when Hyukjae shifted closer, he could tell Donghae wasn’t sure how to react. Then he’d make a show of stretching and easing himself further into his corner, relaxing only when Donghae did.
The tank tops Donghae used to wear freely, exposing both skin and muscles that Hyukjae had spent much time exploring and loving, now remained somewhere shoved deep in the closet. He was still understandably uncomfortable about his soulmark and current situation, and Hyukjae did his best to not get too hurt.
But God, what Hyukjae found the hardest was the way he lingered when it was time for his family to head back after dinner, back to their house across the street. He always did, feeling the loss of another day where they made no progress, wanting to have a breakthrough but simply not knowing how. His lips would part and Donghae would sometimes look at him with those wide, questioning eyes.
And every time, Hyukjae failed to get the words out before he or Donghae turned and left. It was tough, tougher than he could’ve imagined, because he knew what they were supposed to be, yet no longer were.
×××
Hyukjae’s mother approached him on another stale afternoon where the two’s paths hardly crossed since breakfast. He was at the desk in his own room, messy pages from a notebook spread before him. Suggestions he’d noted after phone calls with a small number of close friends, catching up and seeking their advice.
With every day the end of his extended family leave grew closer, so he grew more desperate for ideas. Once time was up, he’d have to make a trip back to Seoul to take care of insurance, their house, and questions from friends they’d made out there. A life of their own that no longer seemed within reach.
“Lee Hyukjae.”
“Hey, Mom.”
“I’m not gonna mince my words around, son. As Hae’s soulmate, you need to start taking the initiative if you want anything to change at all.”
He sighed, having expected to hear this from her sooner or later. It wasn’t like he liked their current situation any more than she did, but… “I just don’t know how to act around him anymore, Mom. Not without the risk of coming off as a creep.”
Deok Boon rolled her eyes at his son, though her expression was fond. “That’s what I thought. It’s hard now because the two of you grew up knowing each other your whole lives. But there’s more to soulmates outside of what you had, you know? This is an opportunity to relearn each other the way most soulmates do.”
“Like you and Dad did?”
“Just like us.”
Her expression had turned dreamy, and Hyukjae did not need to hear about his parents’ love story again right now. Thankfully, she seemed to somber before he could call her out, and recalled why she was here in the first place.
“Why don’t you start by asking him out on a date? Something simple, like shopping for groceries together.”
“Shopping for groceries together,” Hyukjae repeated, dubious.
“Yup,” she winked at him. “We’re running low on eggs, for one.”
Hyukjae narrowed his eyes even as he shut the notebook and stood. “Are you sure this isn’t just a scheme to get your son to run errands for you?”
Her laugh was bright, with a hint of mischief Hyukjae recognised all too well. A sound that never failed to make Hyukjae smile, that he always missed hearing even without knowing he did. “But of course. My children’s happiness comes after they have a full stomach to work with.”
That, he couldn’t refute. So he chose instead to offer his open palm to his mother, bringing the back of her hand to his lips and thanking her for her advice. She pulled him in for a hug after, promising she only had their best interests at heart, and he rolled his eyes back at her, I know .
As Hyukjae stepped out of the front door, crossing the street and into what was rightfully his neighbour’s territory, he was surprised to find Donghae stepping out, dressed in an old graffiti tee, shorts and sandals. Similar to Hyukjae’s own. Their eyes met, and Donghae jogged up to meet him by the gate. Like they would for an actual date.
“Hey,” Hyukjae greeted lamely as Donghae approached.
“Hey. Did you need something? If so, sorry but can it wait? My mom asked me to run an errand for her.”
“Ohhhh. Um.” Of course their moms were in it together. Don’t chicken out, Lee Hyukjae. He’s your soulmate. “Is it to the supermarket?” And when Donghae tilted his head in question, Hyukjae elaborated. “Cause my mom actually asked me the same… Wanna go together? I mean, I’d like to, if you’d like to.”
“Uh. You would?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Sure. Let’s go together, then?”
“Yeah.”
They fell into step, walking down the path they’d been walking together for more than twenty years; the streets looked exactly as they did, yet Hyukjae knew for a fact they were seeing completely different views. He was grateful that this time at least, the ten minute walk felt no more than what it was, the supermarket in the spot it was expected to be once they made a left turn at the end of the driveway.
“This is the same,” Donghae noted aloud as they passed through the automatic door, a habit he’d adopted whenever he came across something familiar. “It actually feels like I was just here recently.”
Turning into the aisle where they’d find dairy products, Hyukjae couldn’t help but smile at the truth in those words. “We actually did drop by just two weeks before the accident for my mom’s birthday celebration. That’s probably why.” And because he couldn’t help his curiosity, “How do you remember it?”
“Uh…” Donghae picked up a basket as they went, distracted by a huge SALE sign for Hyukjae’s favourite brand of milk. It was a Soulmate Special Sale the chain ran occasionally. Hyukjae itched to add them to the basket, but he didn’t want to do anything that would make Donghae uncomfortable. “I remember getting several cartons of milk… then spilling them over the front yard?”
The laughter burst from Hyukjae at Donghae’s summary, recalling the mess. “Exactly that. You were throwing your hands up to greet our parents and the bag with the milk tore. We even argued over it for a bit since I was the one who wanted to get milk, especially that particular brand.”
“You like milk?”
Hyukjae shrugged. It was something they’d never talked about before, simply one of those facts they grew up taking at face value. “Yeah. Slightly lactose intolerant, actually, but that doesn’t stop me. Drink it every morning, don’t I?”
“Hmm…” Donghae’s eyes darted between Hyukjae and the cartons of milk neatly lined up before reaching to grab two innermost cartons, settling them into the corner of the basket almost too gently. His grin was child-like, “Well, what are the chances of that happening again? I hope you brought enough cash out, soulmate.”
That light-hearted exchange seemed to have changed something between them. Conversation and smiles came more easily than before, the both of them joking around while picking out the things they needed together. Some of the older staff recognised them and while Hyukjae waved back enthusiastically, Donghae just ducked his head after offering shy greetings.
It was nothing like what it was before, but it was the first breakthrough Hyukjae had been looking for. His mother was right, after all. Just thinking about her smug expression when he’d tell her that later made his day even better than it already was.
This time, Donghae got the cartons of milk back safely. In exchange, Hyukjae forgot the eggs. It was all good, however. Donghae offered to make a return trip to the supermarket with him, after all.
×××
Deok Boon seemed to have made it her personal duty to get Hyukjae his breakthroughs after her first success at meddling. Correction—advice.
Flipping through old albums after dinner. 16-bit racing games on their dusty console. Not to mention, more errands to run together. And they helped. They truly did. Hyukjae didn’t realise how worried their families had been until one day, he’d woken up to an empty house, with the same state over at Donghae’s. Don’t coddle me, Donghae had told them that first morning. But Hyukjae had been treated just the same.
Opening a delivery app for the first time in months, Hyukjae placed an order for an extra large pizza with a previously saved custom topping setting. He’d complained when Donghae insisted he do that before, but now he was grateful to be able to check out as easily as he did.
“You ordered the pizza we were talking about before?”
Donghae’s excitement was infectious. “The Lee Special Mix? Yeah.”
Hyukjae watched as he licked his lips, feeling the strongest urge to feel them against his own. “Calling dibs on all the avocado slices.”
“Only if you beat me in Mario Kart, dummy. Nothing is free.”
It was hardly a taunt. Hyukjae never liked avocados to begin with. They both knew that. But it was fun. Fun to beat the man in a race then lose in the next just to see his reactions for something that was already predetermined from the start. The pizza came while Donghae was still celebrating his win, Hyukjae taking the boxes into his arms with a sheepish smile at the worried look on the delivery man’s face.
Hyukjae lifted the lid with Donghae crouching right beside him. When he saw the assorted fruits on the pizza, he wrinkled his nose and looked up at Hyukjae. “I really liked this ?”
Scoffing, Hyukjae pulled a large slice with avocado toppings free and offered it to him. “I’m pretty sure you still like it.”
Donghae looked dubious at best when he bit into the tip, giving it a test taste with a few smacks of the tongue before taking more of the pizza slice into his mouth. Hyukjae watched him with a knowing grin, already anticipating Donghae’s reaction to it.
Once he was sure he was indeed a fan of the seemingly odd pizza, Donghae’s hand came up to pry Hyukjae’s fingers off so he could gobble up the entire slice, sending the latter into a laughing fit. Donghae’s cheeks reddened, and he slapped Hyukjae’s back with the hand that had held the pizza before grabbing a second slice. This time, one that had strawberries as its primary topping.
Hyukjae groaned when Donghae took an intentionally large bite, eyes on Hyukjae the entire time. “Brat,” he muttered under his breath, then sighed in resignation, flopping himself on the ground next to Donghae and switching the channels till it got to a variety rerun. “Yeah yeah, just eat as much as you want. That’s what the pizza’s for, anyway.”
There was that cock of the head again, a silent beckon for Hyukjae to elaborate. He took a slice for himself, and between bites meant for the average person, did just that.
“You know how I’m not a fan of avocados?” Donghae nodded, even though it was a rhetorical question. “But it’s your favorite fruit, and there must be compromise when we live together, you know? Soulmates or not. Neither of us are good cooks, so we order in more often than not. We used to order two separate pizzas from this shop, but then you made me realise avocado pizza was actually good.” The nods became aggressive at that.
“Well… Basically, I suggested we make the avocado pizza a go-to when we order from them, but you did something on my phone and created a custom pizza with other toppings we’d both enjoy anyway.”
“I made the Lee Special Mix?”
“Made and named,” Hyukjae confirmed, partially because he wanted no credit for the name.
“It’s a good name,” Donghae defended himself, as if he could sense Hyukjae’s disapproval. “And good pizza.”
Hyukjae decided to be the better person by not retorting, and they fell into companionable silence, simply sharing junk food and lazing the afternoon away with the TV on. It didn’t last long, however.
“I’m sorry,” Donghae blurted minutes later, his mouth still stuffed full with pizza.
Caught off guard by the unexpected apology, it took several seconds for the words to register in Hyukjae’s mind. Even then, he couldn’t make sense of them. “What for?”
Donghae made fast work of chewing his food, the kind of pace that made Hyukjae concerned for a good moment before he finally swallowed and answered, “For not… you know. Remembering about the pizza and… everything about us, in general.”
Oh. For that. It was true that it hurt whenever Donghae drew a blank about memories that Hyukjae held dear. But thinking about it now, it definitely wasn’t as bad as it was in the beginning. At the very least, they were now making progress.
“It’s not anyone’s fault,” he finally said, because now that he was able to think about it without Donghae’s life on the line, he was able to see things differently. “It was an accident, and I was the one who gave the green light for the Soulocation Surgery knowing the risks.”
“To save my life. I’ve never thanked you for that, have I? Thank you, Hyuk.”
Hyuk. The word rolled from Donghae’s tongue naturally, one he’d used countless times. Hyukjae had missed hearing that. “You’re welcome. And I’d do it again, Hae. If anything, I’m sorry you felt like you had to apologize. I’ll have to do better.”
“By sticking around me like a parasite?” Donghae quoted with a lopsided grin.
Hyukjae felt more at ease than he had in a long time when he returned the grin. “Yeah. Just like that.”
×××
The day after, Hyukjae caught Donghae reading up on soulmates. And the next, on soulmarks and Soulocation.
He never once mentioned about his readings, and so neither did Hyukjae ever bring them up.
×××
It didn’t really come as a surprise then, when Donghae finally did bring it up. He simply came up to Hyukjae one night as they did the dishes, “You know how I’ve been reading up on soulmates? I was wondering if there’s anything you’d like to share. Stories, or just anything about… us.”
Where did one begin with something like that? He thought and he pondered, and there was only one thing he could think of.
That’s how they ended up spending the day at Hyukjae’s home for a change, going through old DVDs from their student days, with him sprawled out on the couch, Donghae sitting crossed leg on the floor. Donghae’s interest in them had been growing steadily, and Hyukjae… Well, he was growing to be content with that for the time-being.
They were four videos in when Donghae asked.
“Hey, Hyuk?”
“Yeah?”
“...Would you mind if I said I wanted to take a look at your soulmark?”
Hyukjae couldn’t find the words, staring a hole through the back of Donghae’s head. Perhaps his feelings transferred through, for the more he stared, the redder Donghae’s ears seemed to turn, until he finally whipped his head around so Hyukjae could take a good look at his equally flushed face.
Hyukjae grinned. “Hey.”
Donghae seemed reluctant to answer, “Hey?”
He tugged down the neck of his oversized sweater, just enough to expose his soulmark in an offering. Donghae sucked in an audible breath—Hyukjae realised it was likely his first time seeing it up close, along with how this was also the closest they’d come to the topic.
“It’s yours as much as it’s mine, Hae. Look as much as you want.”
Donghae looked into his eyes, as if searching for an answer to a question Hyukjae didn’t know. Then he nodded, seemingly more to himself than anything, and leaned in, examining the two moons on Hyukjae’s chest in detail.
“What do these.. What does the soulmark mean? I read that they’re never the same, each an unique mark that connects soulmates together.”
“It’s two moon cycles,” Hyukjae murmured his explanation. Somehow afraid that any louder and it’d break the spell giving him this moment. “The crescent one is mine, and yours is called a waxing gibbous. The moon on the nights we were born, put together they’re a full moon.”
To that, Donghae said nothing. They’re so close now. Even with shallow breaths, Hyukjae could smell the shampoo wafting from Donghae’s freshly showered hair. It felt as if any more and things would change between them again. For better or worse, Hyukjae couldn’t be sure yet.
He took the bet, sliding an arm over Donghae’s shoulder. The man didn’t so much as blink, gaze still fixated on the mark over Hyukjae’s heart. He scratched lightly at Donghae’s back through his shirt, just because he can. Then Donghae made his move, just the barest parting of his lips, a mumbled question.
“Would you still have loved me, if we did not bear the same soulmark?”
The question shouldn’t have given him pause. Hyukjae should’ve been able to answer as easily as Donghae did to his proposal an eternity ago. Hell, he’d taken the risk of losing everything in exchange for Donghae’s life. And in a way, he had. Despite everything, Hyukjae believed he was handling it well.
But he couldn’t; the words didn’t come, his world skidding to an abrupt stop that threw him off the balance he’d just found. He hated himself for every second the silence stretched on, Donghae’s curiosity and hope gave way to disappointment and… was that fear? Fuck, it hurt to see that. Hyukjae had to say something. Anything to make that expression go away, to make the Donghae from twenty seconds ago return.
“Hae, I—”
“Don’t,” Donghae cut him off harshly, twisting out of Hyukjae’s half embrace, putting physical distance between them that made the heart beneath his soulmark throb in protest at the loss. “If you can’t love me without the fate of being soulmates binding us, then I honestly can’t see a future together.”
“That’s not fair,” Hyukjae argued. “You have to know by now that soulmates is all we’ve—I’ve—known my whole life.”
“I figured, since I don’t even remember the times we were childhood friends even before finding out we were soulmates,” Donghae pointed out bitterly, and Hyukjae realised this was something that had been bugging him for at least a while.
“We were, and we still are friends who grew up together, Hae. Things just became different after the soulmark,” Hyukjae protested again, weakly, desperately. Willing, begging Donghae to understand what he was saying. They always understood each other. Why was it so difficult now? “That was a turning point for us.”
Donghae hung his head as if he’d given up on the conversation. Then he looked back up, the same vulnerability from that first day out of the hospital shining in his eyes.
“Do you know what I see when I look at you, Hyuk?”
The pain in Donghae’s voice, everything about the man made every muscle in Hyukjae’s body twitch with the need to pull him back into his arms. And with it, fear of what his next words might be. “What?”
Donghae’s exhale is sharp and painful, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his lips wobbling as he said, “I see a man I can grow to love. That I’m growing to.”
Hyukjae’s breath hitched, the timing of the confession catching him off guard. In a span of seconds, he went from feeling surprised, to joy, to confusion upon the situation they were in, eventually settling on hurt as Donghae continued,
“It’s only been a while since I’ve been relearning my life, but this is the one thing I can say with confidence. You’re so easy to love just by being you, it truthfully terrifies me some nights. You made me want to fix the scars over a mark I don’t even recall having in my life.”
“This is all me, Hyukjae. Just me, a person falling in love with you, another person. But… what do you see when you look at me?”
The answer came to him easily, naturally. One Hyukjae knew wasn’t what Donghae wanted—needed—to hear. My soulmate. They both heard it, even when no one said it aloud. Donghae’s smile then was a knife to his chest. “I guess we have our answer.”
He supposed they did. That was probably why Hyukjae did nothing as he watched Donghae turn and leave. Donghae, who he could no longer assign a title to. Donghae, who was rejecting the one truth Hyukjae had been clinging onto. Donghae, who was everything he remembered and everything he never knew.
Nothing had ever prepared him for this. Hyukjae had thought their life to be a happily ever after, but it seemed everything before had been but a build up for this very moment. Once again, they seemed to find themselves at a turning point. Hyukjae just wasn’t sure which path was the right one anymore, or if there even was one.