Work Text:
Hyunjin sits down at his easel, grabbing a brush, dipping it in the paint he had mixed earlier, and begins flicking his wrist, creating light strokes of paint on the canvas. He only took a five minute break from painting to grab something to drink. He’s been working on this painting all day, pretty much. It’s the biggest one he has done since he started it back up.
The painting is a portrait. Not a portrait of himself but of his lover, Minho. Well… ex-lover? But using that term seems wrong to Hyunjin since they still talk, still live in the same home together. So, someone who he is madly in love with? Yeah… that’s better.
A soft sigh leaves his lips as he finishes another section of the painting and then moves onto another part. He feels like doing the painting in small sections helps him get done faster. That’s with every piece of art he’s done though, not just this one. Though with this piece, he’s putting his all into it. He wants this piece to be perfect since it’s about someone he loves dearly.
Hyunjin feels a presence behind him as he paints, he already knows who it is. “Can’t believe you’ve been working on this all day. You have taken breaks, yeah?”
“Of course,” Hyunjin breathes out, painting another spot on canvas. He’s currently working on painting Minho's face.
“Also can’t believe you’re painting me,” Minho says, eyes glued to how Hyunjin’s hand moves across the canvas.
“Why wouldn’t I paint you?” Hyunjin asks, with a smile on his face. He looks over his shoulder at the elder seeing him smiling as well. “Plus, I’ve never painted you before.” His attention is now back on the painting.
Hyunjin doesn’t mind that Minho is watching him paint, it’s not like the painting is a gift to the elder. He has always let the other male watch him, Hyunjin found it calming instead of nerve wracking. Knowing that Minho is in the room puts the younger male at ease.
“I’m glad you started again,” Minho says after a few moments of silence. “I know you stopped after… you know.”
A shaky breath leaves Hyunjin's lips and his hand stops moving. “Yeah,” he starts, eyes shut tightly, “I know.”
Hyunjin feels a light touch on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, Hyunie.” Minho’s voice is soft, full of concern.
“It’s okay,” he breathes out, “but it does feel nice to paint again. I had stopped for what? Like six months?”
“Yeah, I’d say it was that long,” Minho replies.
Hyunjin didn’t like to think about the reason why he stopped painting for that long. If he did, it would only confirm the reality of it all. He still doesn’t want to accept it, he doesn’t think he ever will honestly.
“Hey,” the sound of Minho’s voice brings Hyunjin out of his thoughts, “stop thinking about it.”
“I’m not,” he lies.
When Hyunjin looks back at Minho again, the elder has a knowing frown. “Hyunjin,” he says. Minho knows him too well.
The painter looks back at the painting, “I’m sorry.” He begins painting again.
“Remember the first time we met?” Minho asks, trying to distract the other male from his thoughts.
“Of course I do,” Hyunjin answers.
Hyunjin was fifteen and Minho was sixteen, almost seventeen. Hyunjin went into high school a year earlier than he should have, so their grade years were only a year apart even though there’s a two year age gap between them.
The younger males friend, Changbin, had introduced Minho to him on the first day of school. Minho had taken the job of showing Hyunjin around the school from Changbin after they met. If Minho wouldn’t have, Hyunjin thinks they would have never gotten as close as they did. Changbin used to joke around that Minho stole Hyunjin from him. Maybe the eldest did.
“Poor Changbin,” Minho says, laughing softly. “Took you right from him.”
A smile spreads across Hyunjin’s face. “He got over it,” he says.
“We made him third wheel a lot though,” the elder says, laughing some more.
“Yeah, until he met Seungmin the year after. They started dating before us, didn’t they?” Hyunjin asks.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they did. We didn’t start dating till your last year of high school,” Minho replies.
“I had this whole plan on how to ask you out, did I ever tell you that?” Hyunjin finishes Minho’s eyes.
“I don’t think you did, actually.”
The painter bites down on his lip, stopping himself from smiling. “I was going to do it after my seventeenth birthday party, that night. I was going to set up a blanket fort in my room and have my mom make us a few things to eat. This never happened, of course, since you looked so beautiful when you woke up beside me that morning.”
“That’s when you said you loved me for the first time,” Minho says.
Hyunjin could hear the smile in the elders voice. “I felt so embarrassed at first,” he giggles out, dipping his paintbrush in water then in a different color, “but you said it back a few seconds later.”
It falls silent between them again. Hyunjin replays the morning of his seventeenth birthday over and over again in his mind. He wishes he could go back in time to that day, it truly was one of the happiest days of his life. Every meaningful word and soft touch of that day, how he had felt, will always be engraved in his bones. Back then, he never knew that everything, every feeling from that day, would be completely ripped away from him in five years.
“I forgot to say this earlier but it may sound a tad weird coming from me,” Minho says, breaking the silence.
“Go on,” Hyunjin breathes out, dipping his paintbrush back into the water, then wipes it off on a paper towel afterwards.
“Even though the painting is me, I find it very beautiful, Hyunie.”
Hyunjin leans away from the painting, inspecting it. He decides he is finished with the painting. “Yeah,” the word comes out in a shaky breath, “you were beautiful, Minho.”
Just like that… Hyunjin no longer feels the elders presence.
The paintbrush in Hyunjin’s hand falls to the ground with a soft thud. “Shit,” he whispers. Hyunjin brings his hand up to his mouth as a sob threatens to escape his lips. He shuts his eyes tightly, his body shaking violently.
It’s been six months since the car accident… six months since Minho was taken away from Hyunjin. A drunk driver had hit the driver's side of the car, killing Minho instantly. Twenty minutes before it happened, they were talking over the phone. Before Minho drove off, of course.
“I will see you in thirty minutes, I have a surprise for you! I love you, Hyunie.”
Hyunjin, at the time, didn't know that those would be the last words he would hear from his lover. He still hasn’t opened the small, prettily wrapped box that is lying on the closet floor. He refuses to. Even though it is very hard for him to accept what had happened, deep down he knows it happened. His brain decided it would be the perfect idea to begin hallucinating Minho.
It started the day after Minho’s funeral. At first, no words were shared, Hyunjin would only picture the elder sitting with him on the couch or laying next to him in bed or watching Hyunjin move around in the kitchen. When he started painting again, he would hallucinate Minho watching him. Then, weeks later, Hyunjin started talking to the hallucinations. It was only small talk and then the elder would disappear. It slowly started to grow into longer conversations as time went on.
Today’s the first time the conversation was this in depth. Everything had felt so real … like the soft touch on his shoulder, talking about their past together, the concern in Minho’s voice when he had upset Hyunjin. The painter really misses his lover.
Hyunjin shakingly gets up from his stool. He picks up the painting, being careful not to touch the wet paint, exiting his art studio and heads toward the direction of his bedroom. He already knows where he wants to hang the painting, setting it up days ago. Hyunjin wants to hang it up on the wall across from the end of his bed. He wants to be able to see it every time he wakes up and right before he goes to bed.
He maneuvers it around, still being careful not to fuck up the painting, and then takes a step back. He smiles brightly to himself. “Beautiful,” he whispers, tears still streaming down his cheeks. Hyunjin has been painting for years and nothing will ever top the painting he is looking at now.