Hyukhae. Romance overseas
"Hyukhae - prompt: romantic slow and sweet sex while overseas and finally getting a room together with all the time in the world ( well at least 24 hours)"
A couple things. 1) this is long. like, six pages long. so i put it on AFF as well. (i like reading in their format better) "drabbles" oops. 2) let's ignore the fact that i forgot Hyukjae went to Venice with Suju and not his family, and that Donghae's already been there. oops again. 3) this is mostly saccharine sweet with a touch of sadness. and also... a bit of sex. with a weird format i tried out.
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9:00 AM. Hyukjae nudges Donghae’s drowsing head off his shoulder, keeping a watchful eye on the idling water taxi at the docks. “Donghae. Hae. We gotta go.” Donghae simply snuggles in closer, his warm breath tickling the crook of Hyukjae’s neck. “Mmph.”
Hyukjae heaves a sigh as well as his bag, dropping it on the floor in an effort to coax Donghae up. Within minutes, he pulls Donghae off the bus and to the edge of the dock and practically throws him onto the boat with their luggage. It feels like the engine roars to life the moment their feet touch the floor, and Venice wakes Donghae up with a breeze and a whisper.
10:00 AM. Hyukjae had watched fondly as Donghae oohed and aahed over the jewel-like buildings and skipping waves, dwelling in his own memories of the city for a moment or two. But this part is new to him too -- the room lit up like a dream, hazy sunlight filtering in through sheerly colored wisps of curtain, washing the room in delicate rose and shades of gold. Hyukjae is glad that he didn’t bother with the champagne, nor the roses, much to the chagrin of the girl at the front desk who was shilling the package deal. Just mounds of downy covers and silky cushions, and the scent of the brackish sea fading lightly into the air. He follows Donghae’s trail of bags and sweaters to the pretty iron-wrought balcony, and his boyfriend turns to look at him with a face full of quiet joy.
“Do you think we could just stay here and make love until we die?”
Hyukjae laughs. Donghae doesn’t.
11:13 AM. Hyukjae slips back inside of Donghae, almost tired from the fury of their first round. The first touches that lasted for more than a moment, the first kisses that weren’t stolen, in what felt like months. Or years. He nearly apologizes to Donghae for letting his impatience get the better of him, but then Donghae looks back up at him with desperate eyes that don’t leave any time for waiting. But now, Hyukjae goes achingly slow, rebelling against both of their desires to throw themselves back into something hard and fast. Donghae tangles their legs together absurdly and cups his lover’s face with both hands, his thumb straying towards the sharp cheekbone jutting just out of reach. He watches as Hyukjae groans with the effort of pushing inside of him like this, centimeter by centimeter, and kisses his forehead and eyelids until the burn dies down.
11:21 AM: Donghae is still on his back, one leg arching over Hyukjae’s shoulder as he presses close as can be into the other’s skin. Hyukjae’s kisses along his throat are like little matches touched against him, flaring up in heat until he feels like his whole being must be consumed in flames by now. The fire burns brightest at the spot where Hyukjae is rubbing deliberately against his hardness, letting Donghae leave a glassy trail along his abs until it’s too much to bear.
11:30 AM. He lets Hyukjae pull all the way out of him and slink down between his legs, massaging his shaking thighs to tide him over until he takes Donghae in his mouth and relies on his tongue to make him swear. Hyukjae is licking at him like he can’t get enough, and Donghae’s curled fingers are lost somewhere in his messy hair, but they’re content like this. Just taking each other in for a while until the fever pitch is fit to burst, Hyukjae helping it along when he tightens his lips and slides them along Donghae’s cock until they can go no further. And Donghae can’t go any further, and he feels like it’s all about to end, but -- no. He wants more, even if it hurts to give this up right now. He waits.
11:52 AM. And so Donghae’s been moving against Hyukjae’s lap, back sticky against the front of his lover’s chest, and it feels so deep and so good that he could cry. The whimper that gets stuck in his throat ripples against Hyukjae, and he slows down, wondering. “Donghae? Are you...?” The long fingers that have been stroking Donghae without fail finally falter and trace up to his chin, tilting Donghae’s face so that Hyukjae can check for the first sign of tears. Donghae’s eyes are dry but full of a wistful kind of love, and it still hurts Hyukjae to see him like this. Donghae twists to kiss Hyukjae’s cheek softly, his words muffled by the other’s skin.
“I just really missed you.”
12:00 PM. Hyukjae’s heart is still all swollen up and he can’t take his eyes off Donghae now, nor his hands, nor his mouth, and so they’re back at square one with his weight bearing down on Donghae from above, and Donghae clutching at his back as he gasps below him. Sunshine trickles in through the French doors and catches the color in Donghae’s hair, turning Hyukjae’s eyes to amber as he gazes down at him. The relentless need to come inside him isn’t backing down, and so he dips forward, lets himself beg Donghae, let me give it to you, kisses him hard. Despite the rush to Hyukjae’s head, Donghae is the first to fall, practically sinking into the mattress with the force of his release. Hyukjae grabs his shoulders and thrusts all the way into Donghae before coming, a little sloppy and a little frenzied but still perfect in the midday light. As Donghae’s breathing draws out and slows down, he wraps Hyukjae in his arms and kisses the top of his head, lips lingering amidst the smell of his shampoo.
Half a day gone, he thinks.
1:00 PM. “I don’t think we should ever leave,” Donghae says quite seriously. Hyukjae gives him a look that’s a reminder and a warning all at once, and he knows he doesn’t have to tell Donghae why that’s so far removed from reality.
“I mean, I don’t think we should leave all day and all night,” Donghae explains, bundling closer into Hyukjae’s blanket and practically pushing his head of his own pillow. “It’s so nice here. Let’s just stay in.”
Hyukjae snorts. “Well, I’m glad you like it.” He doesn’t tell Donghae that right now, nothing could sound better.
2:00 PM. “It’s okay, Hae. I could go for some ice cream too.” Hyukjae tries to keep the laughter out of his voice, determinedly looking at his shoelaces as he reaches to tie them.
“It’s gelato, Hyukjae, and I can wait until tomorrow. It’s fine. I’m just saying...” Donghae’s voice is petulant, and he is clearly sulking at his own lack of self-control. Hyukjae’s quite sure that half the reason for his indignation is simply the romance of the idea, of staying in their self-contained soft-focus world for 24 hours, just to say that they could. But Venice is beautiful, and he’d like to share it with more of the people that he loves.
“If we don’t go, you’re going to keep talking about gelato until we get to Rome and I won’t be able to stand it. Come on. You can spare half an hour.” And in Rome, when we meet up with the others, it won’t be just me and you anymore. It won't be the same. But he doesn’t say it. Not right now. He tugs Donghae towards the door, his lover grumbling all the while.
3:00 PM. Time has a funny habit of stretching out in lazy ways, like the string of gelato that trails from Donghae’s green plastic spoon and threatens to break over his shirt -- Hyukjae’s shirt, really, but they’d packed in a hurry and it’s not like it was one of Hyukjae’s favorite shirts anyways (it was). Hyukjae catches the stray raspberry creme with his finger and Donghae sucks it off, pretending to be casual but batting his eyelashes at Hyukjae all the while. Hyukjae is seized with the sudden desire to kiss him right there, a craving that’s been looming the entire time that they’d walked Venice’s narrow streets. The city had enticed them after all.
3:02 PM. It feels like Paris all over again. It feels like the whole street belongs to them, and Hyukjae is just about to kiss Donghae when a camera flash knocks the boldness out of him. He whips around, much to Donghae’s confusion, and realizes that it’s only a little girl’s father documenting their family trip to Italy. Oops.
“Hyukjae?” Donghae’s voice is cautious.
He sighs. “Let’s just go home, Hae.”
3:39 PM. But home this is not, this little cloud of soft light and Donghae’s scent that they live in. At home, Hyukjae cannot sprawl out across the bed, with Donghae kneeling in between his legs and without a pillow over his mouth to quiet his moans.
4:00 PM. At home they do not have a balcony that faces slightly west, where Donghae can sit down on his lap and kiss him before they drink the tea that Hyukjae’s brought from Korea. What is nokcha in Italian, anyways? Or English? Tea green? He’s decided that it’s always tasted better when it came from home anyways.
He supposes there is some kind of irony or humor or happenstance in the fact that being here with Donghae feels like home, and their warm mouths taste like home, but at home this could never really be.
5:00PM. Hyukjae and Donghae reach a mutual decision to nap through the gondola ride that they’d thought about, a choice that’s colored a bit by the sleepiness of Hae’s voice and the way Hyukjae is snuggling up against him.
6:30 PM. “Did you want to stay in for dinner?” Donghae asks lazily, reaching for the bedside phone and pausing as Hyukjae yawns in response.
“I suppose,” he replies drowsily, curling back into the warmth of Donghae’s lap.
Donghae begins to dial a number off a scrap of paper, and the unwelcome beeping rouses Hyukjae enough to be curious.
“What are you doing?” he mumbles, still not fully committing to waking up. Donghae pets his hair and covers the mouthpiece with one hand.
“I was just thinking about going to this place for dinner, I’m going to call and cancel.”
Hyukjae sits up despite the nonchalance in Donghae’s tone. “You made reservations for something?”
“It’s not a big deal. We’ll bribe them into delivering for us, in a town like this I’m sure they’re used to demanding tourist customers,” Donghae jokes, and with that Hyukjae nods. It’s a reasonable compromise. But he’s touched that Donghae tried to do something for the two of them on their little getaway. This is supposed to be Hyukjae’s treat, Hyukjae taking care of Donghae like he always does. He imagines how difficult it must have been for Donghae to do this by himself and dies a little when he hears his boyfriend’s deep, faltering English. “Um, hello... is this..Ristorante...?” His normally bright chatter is tempered by the thick language barrier -- at least this place has someone who speaks English. Hyukjae thinks that fitting Italian lessons into their already packed schedule would be a monumental task. And then he notices Donghae raising his eyebrows at the man on the other end, and hits the speakerphone button in a fit of curiosity. The maitre’d sounds absolutely gobsmacked.
“Are you gentlemen quite sure --” Hyukjae can’t possibly understand all of this! “-- cancelling your -- ” so far, so good “--4 week wait when --” hold on a moment “-- at the waterfront?” Hyukjae’s head snaps around to lookk at Donghae, surprised.
“Hold, please,” Hyukjae says politely, and then switches back to rapid-fire Korean. “Did he say 4 weeks? Baby, you want to cancel special reservations you made for us a month ago?”
Donghae shrugs, the pinkness of the room suffusing his cheeks. “I don’t know, yeah, it sounded like a place you would like but it’s probably stupid and cheesy, and I don’t even know Italian or really English, so if you don’t want --”
Hyukjae cuts him off, speaking directly into the phone. “We are coming. Sorry. Thank you.” He pauses. “Yes. Right. Thank you! Grat-zee. Goodbye.”
“Hyukjae!” Donghae protests. “It would have been fine, you said you wanted to stay in.”
Hyukjae covers his mouth in a sweet kiss that, despite its tenderness, is meant to shut him up. “You thought I would like it. I’ll probably love it. Don’t take my present away from me, okay?”
“It’s not a present,” Donghae grumbles, rolling over in bed and burying his face on the pillow that Hyukjae had claimed for himself. “It’s just a thing.”
“I love things. And besides,” Hyukjae continues, “what could we even do alone in our room for the rest of the night? Bo-ring.”
Donghae frowns. Hyukjae pounces.
“Kidding. We still have 30 minutes before we even need to put on clothes,” he says, leaning down to breathe in Donghae’s ear after straddling his hips. His voice drops to a whisper. “So let’s not waste any time.”
6:43 PM. Donghae comes all over his chest, and Hyukjae drags both of them to the shower.
8:00 PM. Hyukjae reaches across the table and takes Donghae’s hand, only to leave a kiss on the back of it. The waiter comes. He doesn’t let go.
9:00 PM. Donghae and Hyukjae watch the late sunset from the solitude of their little balcony, sipping on glasses of bright yellow limoncello that Hyukjae bought down by the docks -- “let’s face it, it’ll be a long time before we get to southern Italy ourselves.” Donghae feels dizzy, like he’s drinking down the disappearing sunlight before it fades out of sight.
Abandoning his chair, he finds his way into Hyukjae’s lap. “Hyuk?”
A little smile is playing on his boyfriend’s lips. “Mm?”
“I love you,” Donghae tells him.
Hyukjae rests his chin on the top of Donghae’s head for a moment before looking down at him and smiling. “I love you, too.”
9:06 PM. Donghae has the sense to break away from the kiss first, but ignores his shirt that Hyukjae has tossed to the ground. Besides, it’s Hyukjae’s anyway. He leads him in by the hand, at least until Hyukjae picks him up and hauls him over to the bed.
10:00 PM. They step into the tub and wash each other off gently before staggering back to bed, suddenly bone-tired. Donghae tries to remember the last time he and Hyukjae were able to fall asleep together. In something that wasn’t a plane.
10:15 PM. The buzz of Donghae’s phone tips them back from the cusp of sleep. Siwon’s text reads “Hope you guys had fun without us in Venezia! Call us tomorrow before your flight.” Reality bites them hard, and suddenly Donghae is wide awake. Hyukjae’s lips are pursed as he reads the message over Donghae’s bare shoulder. He kisses it when he feels Donghae tense under him, but his voice is still low and sad. “We should go to sleep, Hae.”
Donghae turns to him fully, a stubborn look already set on his face. Hyukjae almost grins at the sight of it, but Donghae’s words get in the way. “I don’t want to.” His face softens and he just reaches out for Hyukjae, needing to feel him close before he breaks down and cries. Hyukjae is quiet for once, and his lack of reassurance scares Donghae before he’s pulled into his arms and held like a child. But then, Hyukjae slides his hands down, and now he holds him like a lover. Foreheads touching, Hyukjae is the first to break the silence. “I don’t want to either.” Neither of them say it outright, and Donghae doesn’t know how to articulate his fear. He knows that when they wake up in the morning, everything will be different. Not between them, but around them. They’ll leave their little home away from home and be thrown into the whirlwind of life as Super Junior knows it. A life that spares no time for waiting up for your lover or wrought-iron balconies.
Hyukjae looks as though he’s going to cry. Donghae thinks there’s nothing more precious than a blotchy-nosed Hyukjae choking back tears, but that doesn’t mean he wants to see it.
10:17 PM. Hyukjae cries.
10:18 PM. Donghae cries.
10:19 PM. Hyukjae mops up Donghae’s face, and then his own, because if there’s anything that pains him, it’s Donghae crying. Siwon’s text message is the drop that burst the dam, the straw that broke the camel’s back, the hit that broke Hyukjae’s heart. He’s just so tired of loving Donghae, who is always so close, from so far.
11:00 PM. Hyukjae’s fingers draw patterns along Donghae’s back as his boyfriend tells him about places they need to go, palaces they need to see, delicious food that they need to eat. With each destination, the promise of another little haven is implicit, and mentally, Hyukjae is already packing his bags. Bug spray and suntan lotion for Bali, where they’ll live in an open-air bungalow. Coats for Montreal, if they ever venture far from a fireplace. Donghae’s not sure what Zanzibar is, but it sounds warm, so Hyukjae goes with sandals. Or maybe they’ll live simply and barefoot, hammocks on the beach and all that. A man can dream.
12:00 AM. Donghae is lingering on the edges of consciousness, and Hyukjae kisses his temples in an effort to soothe him to sleep. He watches as his boyfriend feebly shakes his head. “I want...to stay up...with...you...” His breaths are getting progressively slower, but he manages to open his sleepy eyes and look up at Hyukjae with real concern.
Hyukjae just chuckles sadly and runs his fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, Donghae. We have all the time in the world.”
He thinks it’s a good thing that it doesn’t feel like a lie.
12:06 AM. Hyukjae dozes off, holding Donghae close. For now, this will have to be enough.
