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The air smells like rain. The news is forecasting rain all over the country. Perfect weather for a funeral, the skies crying out.
Hyukjae walks in the funeral hall, flowers in hand. The air gets stuck in his throat seeing the three people standing in the middle of the room, greeting other family members and close friends. The woman wears a black hanbok, standing between her sons, shaking hands without really looking at anyone, shoulders heavy with the loss of the husband who has been sharing her life for years. The two sons in black suits, thanking people for making the drive, black bags under their eyes, probably up since dawn to make today’s arrangements. Hyukjae stands in the queue to pay his respects, hands fidgeting with his suit and flowers. Donghwa hyung is the first one to notice him, he almost retracts his hand but Hyukjae is already giving him a firm handshake.
“I’m most sorry for your loss. The flowers are for your mother.” Hyukjae speaks, voice hoarse from not speaking for hours since he landed in Seoul and then drove to the fishing village.
“Thank you for still coming all the way. It’ll mean a great deal to him.” Donghwa’s eyes flutter to his younger brother who still has not noticed Hyukjae among the mourners.
Hyukjae nods and turns to Mrs Lee who just let go of the previous mourner. Her eyes turn to him and fill with unshed tears. “Oh Hyukjae you came!” She embraces him as if he was the one standing in the funeral hall greeting people and not her who just lost her husband. He squeezes as hard as her, then takes a step back to hand her the flowers.
“Always such a gentleman.” She smiles. The blush goes up to his cheeks, his eyes slip to her right, where Donghae is watching him. No smile on his lips, no shock in his eyes. Just blood-shot eyes, tired frame, looking through him, as if Hyukjae is not really here, an arm-length away. They have not seen each other since Jongwoon hyung’s café opening almost a year ago. His hair is shorter and somehow his shoulders look broader, probably something to blame on his gym addiction. But to Hyukjae, Donghae will always look the same. There is no way of forgetting a single part of the love of his life.
“Hyukjae came for us, love.” His mother pushes Hyukjae to her youngest son. He squeezes her hand one last time before turning his full body towards Donghae.
“I’m so sorry, Hae.” Hyukjae does not say what else to say. He does not know what he’d like to hear if his father had passed. He’d like for people to just be here for him, hold him, hold his hand while he cries. So he offers his arms to Donghae who just walks into them without a word, tucking his nose in the crook of Hyukjae’s neck and breathing in. They have not hugged in years, and last winter Donghae made sure to use Siwon as a human shield, sticking to his side so that he’d never stand directly next to Hyukjae, even less accidentally touch him. But none of them has forgotten how it felt or longed for it as much as they do at this moment.
If Hyukjae feels his neck getting damp from tears he does not push Donghae away or says anything. He holds him, until Donghae has to go back to shaking hands and thanking people. Then, Hyukjae goes to walk into the next room and wait with the other mourners, but Donghae tugs on their still-entertwined hands to keep him beside him. So Hyukjae stands next to him, next to Donghae’s mother and his older brother for the next hours. They shake hands and accept respects and gifts, they listen to the friends and acquaintances who only say nice and good things about Mr Lee. They get a break around 5pm when people stop coming through the door for more than 10 minutes. Donghwa tells them to catch a breath and get a bite to eat. He stands still and gets a deep breath in when another mourner enters the funeral hall.
Hyukjae makes sure Donghae and his mother get a seat before going to get yukgaejang and some drinks. Donghae does not usually drink but he might change his mind today. He gets the food and the utensils and sits back with them. No word is uttered between them, and they eat in silence. Donghae downs shot after shot of soju and Hyukjae fills the glass each time without a word. Mrs Lee finally breaks the silence. “How is London, Hyukjae?” He does not ask how she knows where he is currently active. But then again, Donghae’s mother and his own have been thick as thieves for years.
“Good, business is good. But it’s definitely harder to leave Korea each time I visit.” Donghae does not react to any of it, but he probably knows all of it already. If he had to guess, Hyukjae would bet that Donghae asks about Hyukjae to their mutual friends just as much as Hyukjae asks about Donghae. He probably gets away with it without any scolding. If Donghae is the one who broke up with Hyukjae, Hyukjae is the one who is still fleeing the country for a few months at a time.
“Well, you know you always have a home with us if you want to visit.” Donghae chokes with food at his mother’s words and almost spits in her face. She does not scold him, and stands up, patting his back.
“I’ll go back to your brother, honor Hyukjae’s time a bit more, will you? He probably had a long trip.” Donghae nods without looking at her. His eyes are on his father’s photograph in the middle of the food hall. His hands clench around the soju glass.
“Did you really come all the way from London?” Those are the first words Donghae addresses to him, still looking at the picture.
“I made arrangements as soon as I heard. You should have…” Hyukjae is cut off by Donghae’s harsh tone.
“I should have what? called you when we haven’t spoken more than hello in years ?” He snorts at the thought. “For sure, I should have done a lot of things.” He sniffs and closes his eyes, breathing in deep. “I had a lot of time to think since he…” Donghae cannot even end the thought. “What has it been all for? I left him, I thought I was making him proud, barely came back for holidays, barely spent time with him. I can’t even remember the last time we got more than half a day together. For what? Was he even proud of me?”
“Of course he was.” Hyukjae defends Donghae’s father. “That’s the one thing he always said when asked about you. He knew you were building your own life and happiness, he was so proud.”
“But I’m not happy, Hyukjae. He’s gone, I barely said goodbye. He’s gone and I’m not happy about anything in my life at this point.” Donghae finally looks at him. Hyukjae does not say anything back. Donghae’s eyes are full of tears, his mouth pursed in, holding in a sob.
“Donghwa hyung wasn’t happy to see me.“ Hyukjae switches topics, chin jerking towards the hall where Donghwa is standing, still greeting mourners.
“He told me to call you. I lied, I said I did and you couldn’t leave everything and come back for this.” Donghae fills himself with another glass of soju.
“You didn’t want me here?” Hyukjae is hurt but he buries this feeling down in his guts. He knew it could be a possibility when Heechul hyung called to tell him the news and was surprised Hyukjae did not already know. He wants to call Donghae a coward, and as usual he is putting the blame on Hyukjae and everyone gets to blame Hyukjae. But he is here to support Donghae, nothing else.
“I did, I do. I just.. I couldn’t bring myself to be weak and ask you. Dad, Donghwa, they’re such tough men. Hyung’s shaking hands left and right like Dad’s picture isn’t hanging in this hall, like he’s not affected by any of it. I’ve never been like that, I’m not tough enough.” Donghae swallows the alcohol and makes a face. He still hates it and a part of Hyukjae is happy this has not changed, that he still knows Donghae best.
“You’re the toughest person I know, Hae. Your dad knew it, Donghwa hyung knows it.” Hyukjae reaches for the other’s hand on the table but Donghae jerks back.
“But they still thought I needed you to survive this.” Donghae looks away.
“Like I’d need you to survive anything similar. Needing and loving people does not make you weak. If you want me to leave, I’ll go. I just wanted to be here for you. I couldn’t just not come and leave you to face this alone.” Hyukjae knows their friends have come in the morning and went back to Seoul already. His flight arrived too late to join them. “Do you want me to go?” Hyukjae settles his hands on his knees, waiting for Donghae to decide what he wants.
Donghae’s eyes are back on his, determined, but still red-rimmed. “Stay. Please.”
“As long as you need.”
Donghae goes back to the hall next to his mother and sends Donghwa to eat. Hyukjae fetches him food, pours him a drink and watches him eat in silence. Once he is done with the broth, Donghwa speaks up. “He never asked you to come, did he?”
“Heechul gave me the time and place.” Donghwa nods at his answer and shows to pour him another drink.
“My brother is the most stubborn person I know. I just thought he wouldn’t be when it came to you.”
Hyukjae snorts, Donghae is probably the most stubborn when it comes to Hyukjae. “I don’t think he sees this as stubbornness, but independence.”
“Our father isn’t here anymore so I get to say it, but I don’t like you near as much as he did, you know that right?” Hyukjae nods, afraid of what is coming next. “Promise me you’ll take care of him? He’ll say he wants to be left alone but that’s just the ‘independence’ talking. He needs people around, he needs you around. He won’t say it, Dad isn’t around to say it, so I’m saying it. So promise me on my father’s memory, that you’ll take care of him.”
Hyukjae looks at their father’s picture looking over the room. Making the promise to the man who always had a nice word and firm handshake for him, the man who gave those sweet coffee eyes to his son. He will make sure Donghae is loved and never left alone. “I promise, I’ll always take care of him.”
“Good.” Donghwa stands up, hands on the table. “The hall will close soon, just drive him back to his place. I’ll take our mother back home.”
Hyukjae nods and pretends to know where Donghae’s place is. He just hopes it is not the one in Seoul, he will not be able to make it through the drive. He starts cleaning the plates and glasses around the room and wiping the tables.
“Hyung said you’ll drive me home.” Donghae stands in the middle of the empty room, his hand jiggling his car keys. Hyukjae nods and follows him outside in the parking lot. A black SUV headlights light up and Donghae opens the passenger door. Hyukjae gets behind the wheel and pushes the start command. He gets to the car park exit, and looks at Donghae who looks vacant. “Are you putting the GPS on or should we just drive around town?”
“Sorry.” Donghae takes out his phone and connects it to the carplay. Soon enough, the automatic voice is giving Hyukjae directions. The drive is short, Donghae lives in a dead-end street, so Hyukjae can just park the car in front of the house. The engine stops but none of them steps out of the car. Hyukjae listens to Donghae’s ragged breathing, he does not need to look to know he is trying not to let the tears out.
“Do you want me to go?” Hyukjae asks after what feels like hours in silence. “I’ll call a taxi back to the funeral hall to get my car.”
“Don’t be an idiot. Just…” A few years ago, the following word would have left Donghae’s mouth without hesitation. It would not have been a question. Of course Hyukjae would stay. “If it’s OK with you, I don’t want to be alone tonight. I’ll drive you tomorrow morning to get the car.”
“Alright.” Hyukjae unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of the car. He waits for Donghae to do the same and to open the door. He looks around as he walks in. They step in a small garden, the grass and plants have not been watered in a while and are starting to turn yellow. Donghae’s house is small, probably a 3-room layout. Smaller than what they had in Seoul.
“I didn’t know you had a house here.”
“I bought it after we..” Donghae clears his throat. “After we broke up. My parents thought it would be a good getaway for when it would be too hard to be in Seoul. Their house is a few streets away.”
“I remember.” Hyukjae only visited Donghae’s parents in their hometown a few times, but the area they drove by surely looked familiar.
“I never used it before last week. It’s just a small thing, don’t expect a guest room.” He pushes the door so they can get inside.
“The sofa will be better than any plane seat.” The door opens on the living room area, kitchen on the far right, and the bedroom and bathroom on the left of the door.
“I have to get out of these clothes. I’ll be quick.”
Hyukjae hums as he looks at his ex-boyfriend taking his black jacket off on the way to the bathroom.
“Don’t you dare start cleaning!” Donghae screams from the shower.
But the place is a mess, a mess of clothes that Donghae has not worn in days, months or maybe years, of discarded shoes and takeout plates. Hyukjae tidies the clothes first, checking what still smells like softener and what smells like sweat. On the bottom of the pile, he finds one of his own pair of jeans, pale blue and with ripped all over the leg’s length. He barely remembers the last time he wore those and even less that they were not at his place anymore. He checks the pocket for lost belongings before putting them in the washer. Something like cardboard makes him double check the right front pocket. His hand finds a photograph, folded in two. Unfolding it he looks at the same picture that has been on his bedside for years, a picture of a younger version of Donghae and Hyukjae, one that did not know heartbreak or grief.
He must have been standing and staring for a few minutes when Donghae’s voice shakes him out of his trance. “I knew you couldn’t help yourself. I was going to tidy things myself. I didn’t know you were going to be standing in my living room.” He stops talking when he sees the picture in Hyukjae’s hand and the jeans left on the armrest. “I was wearing them when mom told me it was the end. I was already wearing a piece of you but I wanted a piece of us while I was holding his hand in the last moments. Because if I can’t have you by my side until the end, at least I get this piece of us.”
“Hae…” Hyukjae’s throat closes around the words.
“I know how it sounds, grief makes you do weird shit. But the good thing coming out of this is that I don’t want to let you go again. I don’t want to keep looking at pictures when you’re still walking this earth and regret it once we’re both gone. I’ll keep that picture in my jeans, and I’ll come home to you every night because I can’t keep leaving the way I’ve been for the last few years.”
And right there is why Donghae is the poet, and Hyukjae is not. The way he uses words to get to him, but also the same way he used them to walk away from him.
“I know I was the one who put us through this. You can say you don’t want me anymore. I’d understand.”
Hyukjae’s eyes leave Donghae and go back to their young selves in the picture. “If I want you? I don’t think a world where that stops will ever exist. There has not been a single person that makes me feel the way you do, there will never be.” He looks up and finds the other’s eyes.
Donghae is quiet, eyes searching for something in Hyukjae’s. He reaches out and snakes his arms around Hyukjae’s waist, the way he has done countless times across the years. They are the same height, but somehow Donghae always manages to make himself smaller to fit his head under Hyukjae’s chin. Hyukjae breathes him in, wet hair and aftershave, and gets conscious of the way he is still wearing the suit he put on this morning to drive to Donghae’s dad’s funeral. Conscious of everything Donghae ever reproached him. They need to build a new base, a new trust for them to work again.
“You have to trust for me to come home. Please say you’ll wait for me to come home.” Hyukjae begs.
Donghae smiles and nods. “You’re my home, Hyukjae, I’ll trust you to break my heart and mend it. You’ve been right this whole time, we’re it for each other, and I shouldn’t have doubted it.”
Hyukjae should not be happy on the day Donghae buried his father, but fireworks are exploding in his heart. He is the happiest he has been since the time Donghae told him he loved him for the first time, turning his world upside down. Now the world is back on its axis, and them in each other’s arms. When their lips touch, it is like none of those years apart mattered, none of it changed the way their bodies react and sing to each other. Because there will never be anyone else.