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catskilt
eunhyuk/donghae
pg-13; 2,235 words; multi-chapter [completed; 14,672 words total]
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.
Part Six-
But despite how much they might want to put it off, morning has to come.
Donghae wakes first, rubbing his forehead wearily against the nape of Hyukjae's neck. He hadn't, actually, managed to fall asleep until long after Hyukjae was dead to the world, and right now he feels like he has slept for a grand total of fifteen minutes. His body clock tells him it should be approximately three a.m. The sky outside tells him different.
It's five minutes to six, and Paris is slowly waking up to morning marketing, talkative birds, rush hour traffic, email inboxes, shutters being raised. Inside Hyukjae's apartment, everything is cool and dim and quiet, shimmery in the early morning light, far removed from the world of routine and mundane tasks. It's a fantasy, Donghae thinks. A carefully manufactured fantasy for men weary of reality. This is Hyukjae's world. What's better after all – a world of alarm clocks and dirty toilets and dog shit on the streets and nine to six and burn out, or this world of lush, bright, around-the-clock, surreal pleasures?
Hyukjae stirs and half-opens an eye. He looks dazed and sleepy, less like Paris' most desired man and more like an innocent Korean boy just out of school. Donghae, looking at him, suddenly sees what he must have been at sixteen; awkward, gawky, hair falling unfashionably over his eyes, smiling a smile that could light up an entire room. "Hyukjae," he says. "Wake up, it's morning."
Hyukjae struggles to lift his eyelids. "It is?"
"It's morning," Donghae repeats.
He forces himself to leave the warmth of Hyukjae's body in favour of getting to the bathroom. There, too, he sees signs of careful planning – a new toothbrush, a fat tube of toothpaste, all sorts of expensive colognes lined up on a shelf for customers to disguise the scent of ill-gotten pleasure from their families. Plush, hotel-like towels rolled up on a higher shelf, brand name shampoo and conditioner, a shaver and styling mousse – it's a completely self-contained bathroom in fact, one that many men must have used before to prepare themselves for re-entry into the real world.
Donghae reaches out to pour the cologne into the bathroom sink in a childish attempt to spoil the studied perfection of everything around him, but stops. The cologne removes Hyukjae's scent from the hair and bodies of his male visitors; and the very thought of walking past a man who smells of Hyukjae's body makes Donghae's skin crawl. No, the cologne has a good use. Leave it there. He opts for scraping the styling mousse into the toilet bowl instead.
When he exits the bathroom, washed and dried, buttoning his shirt up to his chest, he finds Hyukjae sitting up in bed examining his mobile phone. He smiles when Donghae comes in, puts away the phone to hold out his arms.
They kiss lazily, yearningly, until Donghae pulls away mid-kiss. "It's almost seven. I was only supposed to stay till six."
"So?" Hyukjae shrugs. "It's my apartment. I get to choose who I want to stay."
"Well…" Donghae says. "There's the bakery to open. Henry doesn't come in on Sundays, so I have to take care of everything."
Hyukjae bites his lip at that prosaic reminder. "Oh."
Donghae steels himself against the really, really hard lump forming in his throat. "Guess life still goes on, huh?"
"Yeah," says Hyukjae, and just sits there watching as Donghae fastens his pants and feels his pockets to ensure that he has all his possessions. It feels sadder than it should be. They are whore and client taking leave of each other after a good night's work. They are friends temporarily parting to meet each other again sometime in the near future. It shouldn't feel so much like a farewell.
Donghae clears his throat and tries to lighten the atmosphere. "Not going to see me out?"
Hyukjae gets out of bed silently and reaches into his closet to pull on a pair of slacks. Donghae averts his eyes from the muscles on his perfectly defined stomach, his long thighs and turn of his beautiful neck; he isn't sure how he can handle such desire to push Hyukjae back onto the bed and crawl inside him, remain under his skin forever. What he is sure of is that if he doesn't look, he'll somehow manage to make his way across the living room and out of the front door, and the world outside will remind him that there's more to life than love and heartbreak. Like earning a living, for example.
"Well," he hesitates at the doorway, fumbling over the pesky farewell words. "I'll see you in a few months, I guess."
"What?" Hyukjae blinks at him in confusion.
"I can't afford another night with you for at least another three months," Donghae says. "You bankrupted me, you know. I had no idea how expensive you are when I approached Pierre, and when he told me your price I didn't want to lose face by backing out so I had to pay up and now I don't know how I'm going to pay my rent for next month! You owe me now, so you'd better come clean my kitchen floor to make up for the money that I've spent on you."
"I, er…" Hyukjae looks lost. Perhaps he's still sleepy and thus slower than usual, but he genuinely looks upset and baffled, and Donghae suddenly can't bear it anymore.
"Hyukjae," he says, "It's too early for this, isn't it? I'm sorry, I was kidding, I didn't mean it…last night was worth every cent."
"Donghae," Hyukjae starts, leaning forward as though to kiss him, but Donghae's had enough. He steps away and opens the door. "Goodbye," he says, and flees before he's unable to refrain from throwing himself at Hyukjae's feet and screaming, DON'T LET ME GO!
… …
He's crying after all, dropping tears into the flour. He can't help it. A great sadness welled up in his chest the moment he stepped away from Hyukjae's apartment and he couldn't prevent it from creeping painfully at the back of his eyes, squeezing out the tears as he sat in the cab watching the roads going by. He was crying in the cab, and he's still crying now, and it's been over an hour since he left Hyukjae's place but there doesn't seem an end to this reservoir of tears.
If someone is to ask him now, what exactly are you crying about?, he isn't sure that he can find the right answer. He's crying for the kitchen, which he used to love working in before but now seems too big and lonely for existence; for having been silly enough to fall in love when he'd never intended to; for not being man enough to drag Hyukjae out of his ornamented prison, for the Thursdays which had meant so much and now only bring on another suffocating flood of sadness, for the empty milk cartons, for – everything, basically. But most of all for Hyukjae.
Hyukjae, who will never really know how much he has touched Donghae's life, how he has turned Paris from a city of strangers and difficult-to-pronounce words into a home of comfort and delight. Hyukjae, who kept his bakery going and encouraged him so much and sort of stomped into his world, filling it up so headily that Donghae doesn't know how to re-fill the empty corners now that he isn't in them anymore. There's too much space without Hyukjae, too many inanimate objects that seem to wink sadly at him, too many quiet afternoons and lonely evenings, and Donghae doesn't quite know how anything is ever going to be happy for him again.
He turns to the fridge for some milk and yelps in shock when a figure materialises at the back gate. His first thought is ROBBER and WHERE'S MY KNIFE, but within seconds realises that it's Hyukjae – dressed as casually as Donghae has ever seen him, simple black tee and jeans with a light jacket, dragging a suitcase.
"What," Donghae begins.
"Why is your back door open?" Hyukjae asks, then, as he opens the clasp on the gate, adds, "Why isn't your gate locked?"
"Hyukjae," gapes Donghae. "Have you…you've come to clean my kitchen floor? I didn't mean it, you know, and I can't pay you, at least not for the next few months…"
"You are a ridiculous human being," says Hyukjae. He drags in his suitcase and stands at the door for a moment, looking around at the familiar and beloved surroundings, everything that says Donghae to him; the brightly coloured plates and cutlery, the whimsical cups proclaiming all sorts of cute taglines and graphics, the plump mop, the clean washcloths hanging in an organised disarray on the counter, the multitude of baking trays and measuring cups, the stack of CDs lying in a corner because Donghae can't master how to connect his iPod to the stereo. And the tips jar on the shelf that now carries a tag labelled 'HYUKJAE' instead of 'TIPS'.
"What's this?" he asks, pointing.
Donghae looks a little embarrassed. "It's nothing."
"You," says Hyukjae, "are the most adorable person alive in this world and I would be a fool to let you go anywhere within a mile away from me."
"Does that mean…"
"I brought my luggage," says Hyukjae.
"But…Pierre and…your home, and everything?"
"Pierre will survive. I've made him into a millionaire – I think that's sufficient. As for my home, I have another apartment that's entirely my own…I'll bring you there to see it. You'll like it. No one has ever slept in it but me."
"I'll like that," Donghae acknowledges.
Hyukjae looks at him with so much tenderness that all the black clouds suddenly roll away from Donghae's world, leaving colour and vibrancy and freshness, and French love songs. And birds chirping. And romance books, and cupcakes with colourful icing, and a whole world filled with undiscovered delights and adventures that he'll be able to explore with Hyukjae.
"You have my heart," says Hyukjae. "All of it. I couldn't let you take it away with you."
They're holding hands now, smiling at each other, and Donghae thinks, so this, this, this is what joy feels like, and he wants to say, there's so much I want to do with you, so much I want to see, palaces and minarets and castles and rivers and mountains and little snow-clad villages, I want to feed you and hold you in my arms and sit beside you on a bumboat, I want to walk down crowded market streets and watch scandalous sex shows and drink wine with you in a revolving restaurant, but all he says, in the end, is "You're never leaving me now."
"No," says Hyukjae.
"I changed my signboard for you," says Donghae. "All for you. It's in French now."
"That's only the beginning," says Hyukjae.
… …
It wasn't smooth-sailing by any means, but it's still a voyage. Hyukjae has pumped much-needed cash into Donghae's business, expanded the bakery into a little lovable café with books and tea in addition to Donghae's baked goods, and so far the money has been rolling in. Henry has become a bit of a local attraction for the schoolgirls in the area; he has different dates almost every other night.
They've travelled around France together, learned the basics of wine-making in Provence and frolicked in the sand at Nice. Donghae says that Italy is next; he's dying to go to Tuscany and visit this famous bakery that he hears makes heavenly bread. Hyukjae wants to see the Bavarian Alps.
At night they lie curled together even in the hot days of summer. Donghae can't sleep alone anymore, fidgets and sweats and flails around until Hyukjae joins him in bed, and when Hyukjae leaves on a short business trip to Normandy to check out the possibility of opening another café there, Donghae leaves him so many mournful text and voice messages that Hyukjae calls to tell him to buy a bolster. Such dependence is not healthy, he says. But to make up for his lack of sympathy, he induces Donghae into an orgasmic haze through his admirable skills in phone sex.
Monogamy suits them. Hyukjae says it's wonderful making love to only one person night after night; he loves the familiarity, the comfort of knowing Donghae's body inside out, of finding moles in the exact same spots that they'd been in a week ago. Sometimes they drink each other in with so much need that Donghae thinks they won't be able to survive such passion, they'll give out with the amount of white hot desire between them, but Hyukjae tells him to stop being so melodramatic; they're just having mind-blowing sex, is all. Donghae says that Hyukjae lost all his romance once he left his previous life to settle into an old married routine. Hyukjae knows that it isn't entirely accurate; he's simply moved from one method of love to another; from manufactured fantasy into lasting reality; from falsity to something truer and sweeter beyond compare.
They still sit on the back steps on cool evenings, drinking cartons of strawberry milk. The bookstore owner still makes out with her boyfriend; the clothes designer still takes extended smoking breaks. Hyukjae tells a joke, and Donghae laughs, and it feels as though the entire world is at peace.
end.
It's over! Thank you to all for your support and thoughtful comments ♥
catskilteunhyuk/donghae
pg-13; 2,235 words; multi-chapter [completed; 14,672 words total]
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.
Part Six-
But despite how much they might want to put it off, morning has to come.
Donghae wakes first, rubbing his forehead wearily against the nape of Hyukjae's neck. He hadn't, actually, managed to fall asleep until long after Hyukjae was dead to the world, and right now he feels like he has slept for a grand total of fifteen minutes. His body clock tells him it should be approximately three a.m. The sky outside tells him different.
It's five minutes to six, and Paris is slowly waking up to morning marketing, talkative birds, rush hour traffic, email inboxes, shutters being raised. Inside Hyukjae's apartment, everything is cool and dim and quiet, shimmery in the early morning light, far removed from the world of routine and mundane tasks. It's a fantasy, Donghae thinks. A carefully manufactured fantasy for men weary of reality. This is Hyukjae's world. What's better after all – a world of alarm clocks and dirty toilets and dog shit on the streets and nine to six and burn out, or this world of lush, bright, around-the-clock, surreal pleasures?
Hyukjae stirs and half-opens an eye. He looks dazed and sleepy, less like Paris' most desired man and more like an innocent Korean boy just out of school. Donghae, looking at him, suddenly sees what he must have been at sixteen; awkward, gawky, hair falling unfashionably over his eyes, smiling a smile that could light up an entire room. "Hyukjae," he says. "Wake up, it's morning."
Hyukjae struggles to lift his eyelids. "It is?"
"It's morning," Donghae repeats.
He forces himself to leave the warmth of Hyukjae's body in favour of getting to the bathroom. There, too, he sees signs of careful planning – a new toothbrush, a fat tube of toothpaste, all sorts of expensive colognes lined up on a shelf for customers to disguise the scent of ill-gotten pleasure from their families. Plush, hotel-like towels rolled up on a higher shelf, brand name shampoo and conditioner, a shaver and styling mousse – it's a completely self-contained bathroom in fact, one that many men must have used before to prepare themselves for re-entry into the real world.
Donghae reaches out to pour the cologne into the bathroom sink in a childish attempt to spoil the studied perfection of everything around him, but stops. The cologne removes Hyukjae's scent from the hair and bodies of his male visitors; and the very thought of walking past a man who smells of Hyukjae's body makes Donghae's skin crawl. No, the cologne has a good use. Leave it there. He opts for scraping the styling mousse into the toilet bowl instead.
When he exits the bathroom, washed and dried, buttoning his shirt up to his chest, he finds Hyukjae sitting up in bed examining his mobile phone. He smiles when Donghae comes in, puts away the phone to hold out his arms.
They kiss lazily, yearningly, until Donghae pulls away mid-kiss. "It's almost seven. I was only supposed to stay till six."
"So?" Hyukjae shrugs. "It's my apartment. I get to choose who I want to stay."
"Well…" Donghae says. "There's the bakery to open. Henry doesn't come in on Sundays, so I have to take care of everything."
Hyukjae bites his lip at that prosaic reminder. "Oh."
Donghae steels himself against the really, really hard lump forming in his throat. "Guess life still goes on, huh?"
"Yeah," says Hyukjae, and just sits there watching as Donghae fastens his pants and feels his pockets to ensure that he has all his possessions. It feels sadder than it should be. They are whore and client taking leave of each other after a good night's work. They are friends temporarily parting to meet each other again sometime in the near future. It shouldn't feel so much like a farewell.
Donghae clears his throat and tries to lighten the atmosphere. "Not going to see me out?"
Hyukjae gets out of bed silently and reaches into his closet to pull on a pair of slacks. Donghae averts his eyes from the muscles on his perfectly defined stomach, his long thighs and turn of his beautiful neck; he isn't sure how he can handle such desire to push Hyukjae back onto the bed and crawl inside him, remain under his skin forever. What he is sure of is that if he doesn't look, he'll somehow manage to make his way across the living room and out of the front door, and the world outside will remind him that there's more to life than love and heartbreak. Like earning a living, for example.
"Well," he hesitates at the doorway, fumbling over the pesky farewell words. "I'll see you in a few months, I guess."
"What?" Hyukjae blinks at him in confusion.
"I can't afford another night with you for at least another three months," Donghae says. "You bankrupted me, you know. I had no idea how expensive you are when I approached Pierre, and when he told me your price I didn't want to lose face by backing out so I had to pay up and now I don't know how I'm going to pay my rent for next month! You owe me now, so you'd better come clean my kitchen floor to make up for the money that I've spent on you."
"I, er…" Hyukjae looks lost. Perhaps he's still sleepy and thus slower than usual, but he genuinely looks upset and baffled, and Donghae suddenly can't bear it anymore.
"Hyukjae," he says, "It's too early for this, isn't it? I'm sorry, I was kidding, I didn't mean it…last night was worth every cent."
"Donghae," Hyukjae starts, leaning forward as though to kiss him, but Donghae's had enough. He steps away and opens the door. "Goodbye," he says, and flees before he's unable to refrain from throwing himself at Hyukjae's feet and screaming, DON'T LET ME GO!
… …
He's crying after all, dropping tears into the flour. He can't help it. A great sadness welled up in his chest the moment he stepped away from Hyukjae's apartment and he couldn't prevent it from creeping painfully at the back of his eyes, squeezing out the tears as he sat in the cab watching the roads going by. He was crying in the cab, and he's still crying now, and it's been over an hour since he left Hyukjae's place but there doesn't seem an end to this reservoir of tears.
If someone is to ask him now, what exactly are you crying about?, he isn't sure that he can find the right answer. He's crying for the kitchen, which he used to love working in before but now seems too big and lonely for existence; for having been silly enough to fall in love when he'd never intended to; for not being man enough to drag Hyukjae out of his ornamented prison, for the Thursdays which had meant so much and now only bring on another suffocating flood of sadness, for the empty milk cartons, for – everything, basically. But most of all for Hyukjae.
Hyukjae, who will never really know how much he has touched Donghae's life, how he has turned Paris from a city of strangers and difficult-to-pronounce words into a home of comfort and delight. Hyukjae, who kept his bakery going and encouraged him so much and sort of stomped into his world, filling it up so headily that Donghae doesn't know how to re-fill the empty corners now that he isn't in them anymore. There's too much space without Hyukjae, too many inanimate objects that seem to wink sadly at him, too many quiet afternoons and lonely evenings, and Donghae doesn't quite know how anything is ever going to be happy for him again.
He turns to the fridge for some milk and yelps in shock when a figure materialises at the back gate. His first thought is ROBBER and WHERE'S MY KNIFE, but within seconds realises that it's Hyukjae – dressed as casually as Donghae has ever seen him, simple black tee and jeans with a light jacket, dragging a suitcase.
"What," Donghae begins.
"Why is your back door open?" Hyukjae asks, then, as he opens the clasp on the gate, adds, "Why isn't your gate locked?"
"Hyukjae," gapes Donghae. "Have you…you've come to clean my kitchen floor? I didn't mean it, you know, and I can't pay you, at least not for the next few months…"
"You are a ridiculous human being," says Hyukjae. He drags in his suitcase and stands at the door for a moment, looking around at the familiar and beloved surroundings, everything that says Donghae to him; the brightly coloured plates and cutlery, the whimsical cups proclaiming all sorts of cute taglines and graphics, the plump mop, the clean washcloths hanging in an organised disarray on the counter, the multitude of baking trays and measuring cups, the stack of CDs lying in a corner because Donghae can't master how to connect his iPod to the stereo. And the tips jar on the shelf that now carries a tag labelled 'HYUKJAE' instead of 'TIPS'.
"What's this?" he asks, pointing.
Donghae looks a little embarrassed. "It's nothing."
"You," says Hyukjae, "are the most adorable person alive in this world and I would be a fool to let you go anywhere within a mile away from me."
"Does that mean…"
"I brought my luggage," says Hyukjae.
"But…Pierre and…your home, and everything?"
"Pierre will survive. I've made him into a millionaire – I think that's sufficient. As for my home, I have another apartment that's entirely my own…I'll bring you there to see it. You'll like it. No one has ever slept in it but me."
"I'll like that," Donghae acknowledges.
Hyukjae looks at him with so much tenderness that all the black clouds suddenly roll away from Donghae's world, leaving colour and vibrancy and freshness, and French love songs. And birds chirping. And romance books, and cupcakes with colourful icing, and a whole world filled with undiscovered delights and adventures that he'll be able to explore with Hyukjae.
"You have my heart," says Hyukjae. "All of it. I couldn't let you take it away with you."
They're holding hands now, smiling at each other, and Donghae thinks, so this, this, this is what joy feels like, and he wants to say, there's so much I want to do with you, so much I want to see, palaces and minarets and castles and rivers and mountains and little snow-clad villages, I want to feed you and hold you in my arms and sit beside you on a bumboat, I want to walk down crowded market streets and watch scandalous sex shows and drink wine with you in a revolving restaurant, but all he says, in the end, is "You're never leaving me now."
"No," says Hyukjae.
"I changed my signboard for you," says Donghae. "All for you. It's in French now."
"That's only the beginning," says Hyukjae.
… …
It wasn't smooth-sailing by any means, but it's still a voyage. Hyukjae has pumped much-needed cash into Donghae's business, expanded the bakery into a little lovable café with books and tea in addition to Donghae's baked goods, and so far the money has been rolling in. Henry has become a bit of a local attraction for the schoolgirls in the area; he has different dates almost every other night.
They've travelled around France together, learned the basics of wine-making in Provence and frolicked in the sand at Nice. Donghae says that Italy is next; he's dying to go to Tuscany and visit this famous bakery that he hears makes heavenly bread. Hyukjae wants to see the Bavarian Alps.
At night they lie curled together even in the hot days of summer. Donghae can't sleep alone anymore, fidgets and sweats and flails around until Hyukjae joins him in bed, and when Hyukjae leaves on a short business trip to Normandy to check out the possibility of opening another café there, Donghae leaves him so many mournful text and voice messages that Hyukjae calls to tell him to buy a bolster. Such dependence is not healthy, he says. But to make up for his lack of sympathy, he induces Donghae into an orgasmic haze through his admirable skills in phone sex.
Monogamy suits them. Hyukjae says it's wonderful making love to only one person night after night; he loves the familiarity, the comfort of knowing Donghae's body inside out, of finding moles in the exact same spots that they'd been in a week ago. Sometimes they drink each other in with so much need that Donghae thinks they won't be able to survive such passion, they'll give out with the amount of white hot desire between them, but Hyukjae tells him to stop being so melodramatic; they're just having mind-blowing sex, is all. Donghae says that Hyukjae lost all his romance once he left his previous life to settle into an old married routine. Hyukjae knows that it isn't entirely accurate; he's simply moved from one method of love to another; from manufactured fantasy into lasting reality; from falsity to something truer and sweeter beyond compare.
They still sit on the back steps on cool evenings, drinking cartons of strawberry milk. The bookstore owner still makes out with her boyfriend; the clothes designer still takes extended smoking breaks. Hyukjae tells a joke, and Donghae laughs, and it feels as though the entire world is at peace.
end.
It's over! Thank you to all for your support and thoughtful comments ♥
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-06-24 08:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-24 09:40 am (UTC)And the tips jar on the shelf that now carries a tag labelled 'HYUKJAE' instead of 'TIPS'.
awww~ ;]
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2012-06-24 10:40 am (UTC)Hyukjae looks at him with so much tenderness that all the black clouds suddenly roll away from Donghae's world, leaving colour and vibrancy and freshness, and French love songs. And birds chirping. And romance books, and cupcakes with colourful icing, and a whole world filled with undiscovered delights and adventures that he'll be able to explore with Hyukjae.
favorite paragraph huhu
no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 12:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-24 10:44 am (UTC)althought the ending not that dramatic but I STILL LOVE IT!!!!!thank you for bring the ending like this.... :")
now kindly making update for "running blind with eyes wide open" pleaseeee....hehe,I just miss that one so much *insert pouting and puppy eyes effects here*
and lastly thank you for sharng this :*
no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 01:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-24 10:51 am (UTC)homg... so happy that hyukjae finally stopped being a prostitute for donghae.
though donghae's words before he left hyuk's apartment is really hurtful for the both.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa now they are together!!
I'm afraid donghae would leave hyukjae to korea. glad he is not! :D
thanks for this story!!!
no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 01:49 pm (UTC)Donghae was really just trying to push Hyukjae over the edge when he was leaving, I guess. And it worked, cos Hyukjae came back to him!
no subject
Date: 2012-06-24 12:20 pm (UTC)you made me cry in both chapters, but is still one of my favourites stories! well done, bb! <33
no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 01:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-24 01:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 01:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-24 01:28 pm (UTC)Fortunately, Hyukjae turning up at Donghae's cafe with his suitcase mended it.
Thankyou sososo much for this beautiful story and ending!
♥♥♥♥
no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 01:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-24 02:08 pm (UTC)My favorite part <3
no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 01:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-24 03:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 01:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-24 05:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 01:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2012-06-24 07:05 pm (UTC)yes he is dont you ever let him go
I love it perfect as usual
love ya
xoxo
no subject
Date: 2012-07-03 07:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-24 09:42 pm (UTC)reading halfway i was like, omg having the feel of such happiness, scrolls up, OH IT'S THE LAST CHAPTER.
nOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
definitely one of my favourite eunhae fics♥♥
no subject
Date: 2012-07-03 07:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-24 11:17 pm (UTC)This fic is going right to my top fanfics, like at the top!
I love it ;a;
no subject
Date: 2012-07-03 07:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 01:52 am (UTC)it was wonderful...
one of the fics worth reading all over and over again :))
no subject
Date: 2012-07-03 07:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 02:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 05:50 am (UTC)what a beautiful story. It's both poignant and heart-warming with a good measure of pain. It's the reality of life and then a fairytale of two people coming through. The last parts were just....I cried and I had a stupid smile on my face.
You're amazing. Thank you for this. <3
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 02:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-07-03 07:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 02:50 am (UTC)I can't even tell you how much I love this. You're so wonderful ;A;
no subject
Date: 2012-07-03 07:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 05:31 am (UTC)my heart begin to die when Hae said
Donghae, looking at him, suddenly sees what he must have been at sixteen; awkward, gawky, hair falling unfashionably over his eyes, smiling a smile that could light up an entire room.
and then this
He's crying after all, dropping tears into the flour. He can't help it. A great sadness welled up in his chest the moment he stepped away from Hyukjae's apartment and he couldn't prevent it from creeping painfully at the back of his eyes, squeezing out the tears as he sat in the cab watching the roads going by. He was crying in the cab, and he's still crying now, and it's been over an hour since he left Hyukjae's place but there doesn't seem an end to this reservoir of tears.
but when I read this
"You," says Hyukjae, "are the most adorable person alive in this world and I would be a fool to let you go anywhere within a mile away from me."
"You have my heart," says Hyukjae. "All of it. I couldn't let you take it away with you."
OMG!!!!!!!!!! I was sobbing like crazy. so romantic so beautiful. that words can describe what i'm feeling.
and the perfect ending
Donghae says that Hyukjae lost all his romance once he left his previous life to settle into an old married routine. Hyukjae knows that it isn't entirely accurate; he's simply moved from one method of love to another; from manufactured fantasy into lasting reality; from falsity to something truer and sweeter beyond compare.
MORE CRYING
ONE OF THE MOST AWESOME FANFICTION OF HAEHYUK/EUNHAE EVER
CONGRATSS
no subject
Date: 2012-07-03 07:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 08:53 am (UTC)Monogamy suits them. Hyukjae says it's wonderful making love to only one person night after night; he loves the familiarity, the comfort of knowing Donghae's body inside out, of finding moles in the exact same spots that they'd been in a week ago. Sometimes they drink each other in with so much need that Donghae thinks they won't be able to survive such passion, they'll give out with the amount of white hot desire between them, but Hyukjae tells him to stop being so melodramatic; they're just having mind-blowing sex, is all.
can I just melt like an ice-cream now ;;
no subject
Date: 2012-07-03 07:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 04:40 pm (UTC)I'm really slow... Lol...
Anw i was reminded of ur fic when walked past that shop...
And... Aww... Happy ending...
I enjoyed reading this fic...
The plot was something common...
But u wrote it so well...
And will u be updating running blind with eyes wide open next? =D
I know i'm being greedy...XD
no subject
Date: 2012-07-03 07:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-25 10:35 pm (UTC)You've always been my one of my favorite authors since I got into EunHae.
I think you are one of the reasons why I fell in love even more with EunHae e.g. referring to Running Blind with Eyes Wide Open.
I'm so glad there are really good writers like you doing these things and sharing it to everyone.
Thank you! Thank you!
Hope you will make more stories. And know that you have loyal readers like me. ^^
no subject
Date: 2012-07-03 07:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-26 05:07 am (UTC)My new added favorite story.
I love your writing! It's as sweet as honey.
It's beautiful *__*
I enjoyed this story a lil too much!!
I love it. THANK YOU!!
no subject
Date: 2012-06-26 01:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-26 02:45 pm (UTC)i really liked how their relationship evolved and how they got together in the end.
the bit when hae had "buy" hyukkie made me a little sad.
anyways this has been a very good read, even though it wasnt purely dom!hae, which is what i usually read.
i look forward to ur future fics~!
thanks