Fine {DoTae} | complete

Twenty-Eight

They arrive at Doyoung's house. Doyoung's mother opens the door, and no one answers her call and she sighs, ushering Taeyong and Doyoung inside.

"They're probably both in their own worlds," she says.

It turns out that Doyoung's father is asleep on the sofa, book open on his lap and an old war film playing on the TV. Bongshik is beside him, a foot between them. He doesn't stir even when Doyoung speaks.

"Hi, dad," he says, leaning over the man to make sure he is just asleep. Taeyong lingers behind him.

"Let him sleep," his mother pulls them away when her husband doesn't budge and just lets out a little huff instead. "Can I get either of you anything? Tea? Water? A snack? Have you eaten dinner?" She talks while she rummages through the fridge and heats up some kimchi and rice for them anyway, even though neither really gives a response.

Doyoung is still shaken, and Taeyong is still fading in and out of focus as though clinging onto a single tether. Doyoung takes his hand and guides him to the kitchen table. Taeyong smiles faintly. They eat slowly and without a word shared between them. The radio is quiet but they're grateful for the background noise, along with Doyoung's mother's humming while she folds the laundry and sorts it into piles. She approaches a few times, silently checking on them, and it's clear there's more she wants to say but doesn't, and Doyoung tries to ignore her hovering for the rest of their meal. He doesn't want to start a conversation about why they came home or why he punched Joowon or why both of them look so out of it.

She wouldn't understand, he thinks. So he leaves it be.

The smell of food lures Jeno downstairs.

"There's none for you," his mother rolls her eyes, hand on hip. "You've had your dinner."

"But Jaeminnie said he's hungry," Jeno says. He straightens his glasses, eyes wide. Doyoung snickers into his bowl of rice and scowls when Jeno glares at him.

"I know you keep snacks in your room. Eat some of those," their mother says.

"Jaemin's here?" Doyoung asks in false innocence. He knows Jeno catches the mischief in his eyes.

"Shut up," Jeno mutters.

"Hey," their mother warns, "You've been home how long? Half an hour? Can you not argue, please."

"Doyoung started it."

"No I didn't!" Doyoung hurries to defend himself.

"Whatever." Jeno drags his feet all down the hallway. He passes the living room just as their father emerges and he startles, stammers to apologise for being in the way and darts up the stairs.

Doyoung senses the prickle of his father's presence before he turns to greet the man.

"How unexpected," his father says.

Taeyong gives a meek greeting that his eyes don't quite follow and his smile lags as though he has to fumble for the energy.

"Hi, dad." This time, the man greets Doyoung back with a pat to the shoulder like he would give a dog. Doyoung swallows the final spoonful of rice around the lump in his throat.

The air in the room gets heavy and the evening crawls into night, the light dimming, and Doyoung is scared to breathe while his father pours himself a glass of water. When he doesn't leave the room, Doyoung sits and watches Taeyong eat, forces his eyes to not turn to his father. He jolts when the man speaks.

"So," his father begins. His voice alone carries the weight of far too many hours at work, and Doyoung already feels guilty for adding to his burdens because he knows what matter his father is going to address. "What happened?"