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catskilt
eunhyuk/donghae
pg-13; 1538 words; multi-chapter
this is the fic where donghae is a baker and hyukjae is a prostitute, and together they make something out of the city of romance that is paris.
birthday fic for gigie (can't remember her lj name).
Twelve Cupcakes
Part One-
Donghae isn't particularly good with figures, but he doesn't need to be a qualified mathematician in order to know that he's losing money.
When he has long since calculated that he needs to make x amount of money per day in order to recoup the y amount that he'd invested in the setting up of his bakery, and that if he consistently makes x he will be able to break even and start making profits by the end of the year, it is a very doleful thing to discover that he has been making far, far less than x. More like w. Or even, in today's case, all the way back to a.
Something has to be done, he tells himself as he commences his preparations for closing the store. He has to introduce a new product – maybe a new-fangled flavour for his macarons? Would green tea macaron with Azuki beans be accepted by these strange picky Parisians? – or be more innovative with his designs – an Angry Birds cupcake perhaps?
In any case, he has to do something to keep his bakery alive. He'd had such grand plans when he arrived here seven months ago, and none of those plans had included going bankrupt and having to move back to Korea even before one year was up.
Then again, whispers a little voice at the back of his head, mostly everything has gone pretty differently from what he'd planned them to be, and so why bother fighting the inevitable?
No, he tells that little voice, which sounds strangely like one of the friends he'd left behind in Korea – Park Jungsu, his de facto older brother and part-time doomsday prophet. I will not fold so easily. This is my dream, and I won't let it go simply because it's taking people a while to find out about my bread.
He doesn't tell the voice about the other motive, the bigger motive, that's keeping him sticking around. After all, one doesn't tell one's darkest secrets even to de facto older brothers; some things run too deeply to be put into words.
Instead, he decides to implement a little noontime promotion the next day in hopes of attracting a couple of customers from the lunchtime crowd. And tonight he'll research on Angry Bird designs – it can't be too hard making a cupcake look like a fat angry red bird with an oversized head. He's had plenty of experience in designing cupcakes.
Just before he goes home, he sits on the steps at the back of his bakery and waits. He doesn't mind waiting. He loves these autumn after-seven-pms in Paris, feeling the cool breezes against his cheek and watching the occasional pedestrian walking through the quaint little back alley. He hears the owner of the bookstore a couple of doors down laughing away with a friend; the sound of those French words, so pretty and full of soft consonants, is pleasant to his ears. He can't see the stars, but he knows that they're out there, somewhere. It fills him with a huge sense of possibility.
The bright day is done, he thinks dreamily. He isn't so worried yet. He still has a chunk of money sitting in both his French and Korean bank accounts, a lot of ideas, and an Angry Birds cupcake to design. He's still able to sit on the steps of his bakery and dream.
And wait.
He sucks at the straw of his strawberry milk carton. He typically never knows how long it'll take, but he has learned that the time it takes to finish two milk cartons is generally the time it takes for Hyukjae to show up. He's only on his first, and the world is still filled, bursting at the seams! with brilliant possibility.
… …
At that very moment, Lee Hyukjae is walking on the next street, just about to cross the road into the little back alley.
He thinks with a sort of dread, what if at this moment, some young punk joyriding a motorbike with his pre-teen girlfriend comes speeding down the road and kills me? What if, less drastically, my handphone rings and I'm summoned back to that place - and the next two hours are stolen from me, simply because they can be?
Stop it, he tells himself sternly. Nothing of that sort is going to happen. You're going to cross the road and walk five doors down, and the bookstore owner is going to call out, "Looking fine again today aren't we!", and two doors later he'll be sitting on the steps, still on his first carton, and he's going to smile and hold out his arms and nothing in the world knows what might happen in the next two hours.
The sense of unpredictability, of endless possibility, makes him smile, and when he crosses the road – unharmed, as expected – his steps are light, almost dancing. He loves to dance; has he ever told Donghae that? He suspects that's what really keeps him sticking around in Paris, the fact that he's partly being paid to dance. Paid well, at that.
He passes the five doors, three green, one orange and one red, and the bookstore owner is there, laughing with a friend, calling out, "Good evening! Looking grand again today aren't we!"
He calls out a pleasant greeting in reply and continues down, just six or seven more steps and there he is, Donghae looking up from the steps with big hopeful eyes.
"Well," Hyukjae says, "hello." And kisses Donghae discreetly, politely, with lips closed, for the benefit of the bookstore owner and her very good-looking boyfriend.
"I was waiting all afternoon," says Donghae. "So I figured it was one of those evenings that I have to spend sitting here and waiting…"
"With your usual timer," says Hyukjae, plucking the carton out of Donghae's hands and sucking up the rest of the strawberry milk. "But I made good time today, didn't I?"
"Not quite," says Donghae, consulting his watch. "We have less than two hours."
"No," says Hyukjae impressively. "We still have two hours."
Donghae looks at him, his eyes big and adoring, and then at the bookstore owner, now snuggling against her boyfriend. "Let's go inside," he says.
… …
It happens as it always does. Donghae feeds him the leftover strawberries for the day, laughs when Hyukjae eats them greedily, presses his mouth against his and flavours their kisses with the fruity sweetness. He'd discovered Hyukjae's love for strawberries the very first day they met, he thinks lazily as he leans against the kitchen island and lets Hyukjae undress him. He still remembers it well. The complaint about the strawberries…
"What we need here is some music," he says.
"Why?" Hyukjae asks, looking up from the button on Donghae's pants.
"Because it's Paris," says Donghae. "It's after seven, the stars are out there somewhere, we're about to make love – we can't do this without music. It would be so incomplete."
Hyukjae laughs, fond and mocking at the same time. "Oh, Donghae," he says. "To whom the charm and romance of Paris still remain alive."
"It is," says Donghae firmly. "And when you're with me, it's alive for you too."
He hops across the kitchen and turns on the CD player that he uses to lend sound to the hours of baking. Luckily, it isn't Lady Gaga. Luckily, it's an old Norah Jones, and Hyukjae laughs again, this time double the fondness and minus the mockery, and holds out his arms. "Come away with me," he says.
And so they make love against the kitchen island, Donghae's fingers in Hyukjae's hair, blond, soft despite the colouring, so dazzling. Hyukjae's hands on his waist and then his hips and buttocks and thighs, spreading him, hard and wanting, his mouth red with their kisses, and Donghae wonders for a brief moment, is this how he is when –? When - ? But it isn't fair to speculate; they agreed a long time ago that he should never question, never wonder how it is with Hyukjae on the other side but should focus purely on how Hyukjae is on this, all sort of beautiful and sensual and incredibly gentle, feel how slowly he's sliding in now, how glorious it is to be joined.
"It's not like this," says Hyukjae as though reading his thoughts.
Donghae smiles, presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and braces himself. That's where they leave it.
… …
It's not like this, Hyukjae thinks less-than-two-hours later when he's in a cab, speeding back to the centre of Paris.
He leans his head against the window and watches the amber streetlights going past, the beautiful shadows and silhouettes of this City of Romance. He's going back to a world that has nothing of romance in it, has everything of twisted desires and temptations and vices. A world that shares the same space on earth as Donghae's bakery but seems ten worlds apart.
He thinks of Donghae's smiling face. Of his hands and his eyes and his strawberry kisses. Of barely-there stars and quiet back alleys and old CD players.
No, I never knew that it could be like this until I met you.
----
Yes, this is to be continued! Happy birthday in advance, Gigie! I have a feeling that this story will extend till after your birthday, haha.
catskilteunhyuk/donghae
pg-13; 1538 words; multi-chapter
this is the fic where donghae is a baker and hyukjae is a prostitute, and together they make something out of the city of romance that is paris.
birthday fic for gigie (can't remember her lj name).
Part One-
Donghae isn't particularly good with figures, but he doesn't need to be a qualified mathematician in order to know that he's losing money.
When he has long since calculated that he needs to make x amount of money per day in order to recoup the y amount that he'd invested in the setting up of his bakery, and that if he consistently makes x he will be able to break even and start making profits by the end of the year, it is a very doleful thing to discover that he has been making far, far less than x. More like w. Or even, in today's case, all the way back to a.
Something has to be done, he tells himself as he commences his preparations for closing the store. He has to introduce a new product – maybe a new-fangled flavour for his macarons? Would green tea macaron with Azuki beans be accepted by these strange picky Parisians? – or be more innovative with his designs – an Angry Birds cupcake perhaps?
In any case, he has to do something to keep his bakery alive. He'd had such grand plans when he arrived here seven months ago, and none of those plans had included going bankrupt and having to move back to Korea even before one year was up.
Then again, whispers a little voice at the back of his head, mostly everything has gone pretty differently from what he'd planned them to be, and so why bother fighting the inevitable?
No, he tells that little voice, which sounds strangely like one of the friends he'd left behind in Korea – Park Jungsu, his de facto older brother and part-time doomsday prophet. I will not fold so easily. This is my dream, and I won't let it go simply because it's taking people a while to find out about my bread.
He doesn't tell the voice about the other motive, the bigger motive, that's keeping him sticking around. After all, one doesn't tell one's darkest secrets even to de facto older brothers; some things run too deeply to be put into words.
Instead, he decides to implement a little noontime promotion the next day in hopes of attracting a couple of customers from the lunchtime crowd. And tonight he'll research on Angry Bird designs – it can't be too hard making a cupcake look like a fat angry red bird with an oversized head. He's had plenty of experience in designing cupcakes.
Just before he goes home, he sits on the steps at the back of his bakery and waits. He doesn't mind waiting. He loves these autumn after-seven-pms in Paris, feeling the cool breezes against his cheek and watching the occasional pedestrian walking through the quaint little back alley. He hears the owner of the bookstore a couple of doors down laughing away with a friend; the sound of those French words, so pretty and full of soft consonants, is pleasant to his ears. He can't see the stars, but he knows that they're out there, somewhere. It fills him with a huge sense of possibility.
The bright day is done, he thinks dreamily. He isn't so worried yet. He still has a chunk of money sitting in both his French and Korean bank accounts, a lot of ideas, and an Angry Birds cupcake to design. He's still able to sit on the steps of his bakery and dream.
And wait.
He sucks at the straw of his strawberry milk carton. He typically never knows how long it'll take, but he has learned that the time it takes to finish two milk cartons is generally the time it takes for Hyukjae to show up. He's only on his first, and the world is still filled, bursting at the seams! with brilliant possibility.
… …
At that very moment, Lee Hyukjae is walking on the next street, just about to cross the road into the little back alley.
He thinks with a sort of dread, what if at this moment, some young punk joyriding a motorbike with his pre-teen girlfriend comes speeding down the road and kills me? What if, less drastically, my handphone rings and I'm summoned back to that place - and the next two hours are stolen from me, simply because they can be?
Stop it, he tells himself sternly. Nothing of that sort is going to happen. You're going to cross the road and walk five doors down, and the bookstore owner is going to call out, "Looking fine again today aren't we!", and two doors later he'll be sitting on the steps, still on his first carton, and he's going to smile and hold out his arms and nothing in the world knows what might happen in the next two hours.
The sense of unpredictability, of endless possibility, makes him smile, and when he crosses the road – unharmed, as expected – his steps are light, almost dancing. He loves to dance; has he ever told Donghae that? He suspects that's what really keeps him sticking around in Paris, the fact that he's partly being paid to dance. Paid well, at that.
He passes the five doors, three green, one orange and one red, and the bookstore owner is there, laughing with a friend, calling out, "Good evening! Looking grand again today aren't we!"
He calls out a pleasant greeting in reply and continues down, just six or seven more steps and there he is, Donghae looking up from the steps with big hopeful eyes.
"Well," Hyukjae says, "hello." And kisses Donghae discreetly, politely, with lips closed, for the benefit of the bookstore owner and her very good-looking boyfriend.
"I was waiting all afternoon," says Donghae. "So I figured it was one of those evenings that I have to spend sitting here and waiting…"
"With your usual timer," says Hyukjae, plucking the carton out of Donghae's hands and sucking up the rest of the strawberry milk. "But I made good time today, didn't I?"
"Not quite," says Donghae, consulting his watch. "We have less than two hours."
"No," says Hyukjae impressively. "We still have two hours."
Donghae looks at him, his eyes big and adoring, and then at the bookstore owner, now snuggling against her boyfriend. "Let's go inside," he says.
… …
It happens as it always does. Donghae feeds him the leftover strawberries for the day, laughs when Hyukjae eats them greedily, presses his mouth against his and flavours their kisses with the fruity sweetness. He'd discovered Hyukjae's love for strawberries the very first day they met, he thinks lazily as he leans against the kitchen island and lets Hyukjae undress him. He still remembers it well. The complaint about the strawberries…
"What we need here is some music," he says.
"Why?" Hyukjae asks, looking up from the button on Donghae's pants.
"Because it's Paris," says Donghae. "It's after seven, the stars are out there somewhere, we're about to make love – we can't do this without music. It would be so incomplete."
Hyukjae laughs, fond and mocking at the same time. "Oh, Donghae," he says. "To whom the charm and romance of Paris still remain alive."
"It is," says Donghae firmly. "And when you're with me, it's alive for you too."
He hops across the kitchen and turns on the CD player that he uses to lend sound to the hours of baking. Luckily, it isn't Lady Gaga. Luckily, it's an old Norah Jones, and Hyukjae laughs again, this time double the fondness and minus the mockery, and holds out his arms. "Come away with me," he says.
And so they make love against the kitchen island, Donghae's fingers in Hyukjae's hair, blond, soft despite the colouring, so dazzling. Hyukjae's hands on his waist and then his hips and buttocks and thighs, spreading him, hard and wanting, his mouth red with their kisses, and Donghae wonders for a brief moment, is this how he is when –? When - ? But it isn't fair to speculate; they agreed a long time ago that he should never question, never wonder how it is with Hyukjae on the other side but should focus purely on how Hyukjae is on this, all sort of beautiful and sensual and incredibly gentle, feel how slowly he's sliding in now, how glorious it is to be joined.
"It's not like this," says Hyukjae as though reading his thoughts.
Donghae smiles, presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and braces himself. That's where they leave it.
… …
It's not like this, Hyukjae thinks less-than-two-hours later when he's in a cab, speeding back to the centre of Paris.
He leans his head against the window and watches the amber streetlights going past, the beautiful shadows and silhouettes of this City of Romance. He's going back to a world that has nothing of romance in it, has everything of twisted desires and temptations and vices. A world that shares the same space on earth as Donghae's bakery but seems ten worlds apart.
He thinks of Donghae's smiling face. Of his hands and his eyes and his strawberry kisses. Of barely-there stars and quiet back alleys and old CD players.
No, I never knew that it could be like this until I met you.
----
Yes, this is to be continued! Happy birthday in advance, Gigie! I have a feeling that this story will extend till after your birthday, haha.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-04-14 08:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-14 08:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-14 08:59 am (UTC)HOW CAN YOU MANAGE TO MAKE SUCH SENSUAL YET VERY FLUFFY SCENES AT THE SAME TIME ;A;
Donghae feeds him the leftover strawberries for the day, laughs when Hyukjae eats them greedily, presses his mouth against his and flavours their kisses with the fruity sweetness. I just kinda melt at the cuteness of this.
"Because it's Paris," says Donghae. "It's after seven, the stars are out there somewhere, we're about to make love – we can't do this without music. It would be so incomplete." tbh I could imagine him saying this, our sweet cheesy lines maker Donghae XD
Donghae smiles, presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and braces himself. That's where they leave it. AND THAT'S ENOUGH TO MAKE ME GIGGLE MADLY I JUST LOVE THIS SCENE ;_______;
I HADN'T EXPECTED YOU TO MAKE A CONTINUATION BUT REALLY I LOVE THIS AU AND I HOPE TO SEE MORE OF THIS ;A; THANK YOU GEM FOR THIS LOVELY PRESENT ♥♥♥
no subject
Date: 2012-04-14 12:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-14 01:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-14 02:38 pm (UTC)maybe because he's back to blond and terribly oozing sexiness like the fourth of fucking july i don't even know anymore! Everything Hyukjae is sexy to me really so yeah, this works soooo well for me. And hohoho Donghae is a baker, hell yeah!knead that dough on Hyukjae will you OMG I did not just!!!I'm excited for this. Soooo excited where this is going and OMG I hope there won't be so much creys because my feelings can't take angsty EunHae but ok I love angsty EunHae but they're almost always angsty but then again it works so well but so do fluff ok anything you write works so well for me I don't even give a shit as long as I read what you write. :DDD
Last one though. Would this be because of the news that Donghae's upcoming drama will feature him baking cakes and all? Add the fact that he baked a strawberry cake during their trial baking session I think. Well, based on his tweet it looked mighty a lot like strawberry cake.
Anyway. This is long and shit but you know..I LOVE YOUUUU~
no subject
Date: 2012-04-14 09:39 pm (UTC)And I was at SS4 so I can totally relate to Paris. Though I didn't actually like the macarons... ._.
But I can't wait :D (even though "Running blind with eyes wide open" still will be my favorite fic ^__^ )
no subject
Date: 2012-04-15 04:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-16 09:57 pm (UTC)please update soon,,it's interesting~
no subject
Date: 2012-04-18 08:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-22 09:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-23 03:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-23 05:51 pm (UTC)