Himchan took the kettle off the heater and took out three mugs. Chocolate for Junhong, Malt for Yongguk and Coffee for Himchan. He spent some time measuring spoonfuls from this tin and that, and left the two other mugs on the dining table and took his own to the sofa.  Just as he turned the TV on, the door opened, and Junhong was the first to walk in. “Appa!” He cheered, a hand already in the air. “I’m top again!” He was waving his report card in the air, smiling like a sun.

Yongguk followed, only an inch taller than Junhong now. The boy sure had sky rocketed his growth rate the past few years. He was too young to be that tall, honestly. Yongguks’ smile was just as bright as Junhongs, and he kept patting Junhongs shoulder and Himchan smiled at the two. He welcomed Junhong next to his seat with an open arm and the boy bounced to his spot. Himchan read the card from top, wowing at every remark. “Wow, look at this Bang! 97% for math! Oh my god?” He laughed. “English too, look all grade A’s” he went on, turned to Junhong grinning like a cat and pulled his cheek.

“Aww, such a cutie shouldn’t be so smart!” He joked, smiling back at Junhong.

Yongguk laughed at the two; and having spotted Himchans’ cup of coffee, he expected his own to be on the table. And it was. His one was had tiger print and Junhongs had a Pokémon in it. He took the cup to his chin and inhaled, and then sighed.
Himchan makes the best cup of malt he could ever have.
He also makes the best coffee and the best hot chocolate. He picked up Junhongs mug and passed it to their son, and got seated on his seat. Himchan muted the TV when Junhong got started on how the prize giving went. Only one parent was invited and Himchan had to stay back; although displeased with it. Moreover, he had a presentation to get over with earlier today, so he didn’t feel too misplaced having missed Junhong going up on stage again.

When Yongguk met Himchan, Junhong was already a part of his busy life. Junhong wasn’t very welcome when Himchan just started his life. As much he felt sorry for the boy, a five year old energetic boy ruining everything in his apartment was hard to cope with. Himchan was torn between wanting to love the boy and other things in his life, like his wet mattresses and burnt project files.

Himchan wasn’t from one of the warmest families. In fact; even before he had started, his family had been in pieces. His parents were divorced, and his mother was coping life alone. He had an older sibling, but they had never met. During the divorce, his father was given custody of the older child. His mother was still pregnant. 
Himchans’ mother hadn’t been the warmest of the mothers either. She passed at an early age of fifty six, from a weak heart. Himchan was twenty six and capable. His mother had left him little wealth, but he was fairly educated for a stable job. Himchan had been in and out of relationships; and the reason they never lasted was because Himchan had quite a cold heart himself.
Every time, his partner would be hurt by one thing or the other, and every time they said they wanted to break up, the fault was in Himchan. He didn’t care enough or he didn’t love enough.

Even if he knew, he didn’t really bother to fix himself.

Two years passed like that and Himchan had made himself quite a man. This house he had brought ten years ago, and was living life, just eating away his time and trying to make himself a name. And one day, a specific cold October morning, three officers knocked on his door, and walked inside with the most spectacular news.

His long lost brother had died from a plane crash and his son, was left without a guardian. Apparently, the only family member the police could trace back to was Himchan. The morning they came, all they had were a couple of papers and few pictures. He did not recognize anyone they showed him, his brother, his wife, or his own farther, or the kid.

Nevertheless, when the men asked if Himchan was going to raise him as family or not, Himchan just couldn’t bring himself to say no. Who knows what would happen to the child if sent away to an orphanage? Himchan knew that he couldn’t be the best of a farther, but at least he could provide better than an orphanage, three full meals to keep his hunger away and to send him to a proper school.

At the end of the three days the men left Himchan to make a decision, Himchan had said yes.

But Junhong was a rebel.
Himchan soon started to regret his decision, having him not eat his meals, crying without a reason, screaming, refusing to bath, kicking things, pouring water on his clothes, setting fire to Himchans’ paper, climbing on the window grill, everything he did was beyond a five year old should be capable of.

When Himchan could take no more, he would ask Junhong to leave the house and stay outside in the garden. The boy frowned his best, stumped his feet and walked out, and sat down on the grass.

Himchan always watched him from the window, knees curled to his chest and chin buried between the crooks of them. Himchan always spared the boy a glance as he mopped the floor of his pee, or wiped the counter off the milk he had spilled, or vacuumed the carpet off the sugar he spilt … just anything in general.

Himchan always called for the boy back in less than half an hour. Although he knew that Junhong cried outside, when he came back in, he had wiped his cheeks and pretended that he hadn’t. Himchan was only twenty eight and clueless. He washed the boy and dressed him and watched as he ate something, usually bread or cereal, and put him to bed, and pulled a sheet over.

He never asked Himchan to read him a story and Himchan never stood by combing back his hair till he fell asleep.

As much as Himchan knew he wasn’t being much, Junhong wasn’t helping either.

Junhong remembers the first day he met Yongguk. He was sent outside again, because he had mixed sauce into Himchans’ lunch while he was having his bath. Junhong doesn’t really have many memories of those times, but this specific one was as clear as day in his mind.

He was crying again, hugging his knees and smelling the grass. At least his new dad had a nice garden. He liked it out here.

“Oh, look at you!” A deep voice grumbled ahead of Junhong, and when he looked up, he was already scared. He saw a tall man holding a huge rake over his shoulder look down to him, and he flinched a little. The sun was blazing behind the man’s face and he couldn’t really see it clearly. But he bent down, put the rake down as support and squat down next to Junhong. He wore a large stray hat on his head and the next thing Junhong remembered so clearly was his big smile. Junhong didn’t mind when Yongguk pat his head a little and continue his one big grin.

“Are you new here? Haven’t seen you before.” He asked, and Junhong nodded. He pointed to the back to his house, and said “I live there.”

“Huh? With Himchan-goon?” He asked, surprise obvious even to Junhong. The boy nodded.

Yongguk thought for a while, and then put his smile back on. “Wanna play?” He had asked. Junhong nodded. Junhong remembers the game too. The fastest one to pick up the leaves and throw it into the dustbin wins. Yongguk had laughed so much when Junhong threw in a fist full of leaves from the pile Yongguk had collected up onto the air. They fell over his face and hair with mud and dust; but Yongguk didn’t scold him. Instead, he threw a bit more of the pile on Junhong and chased him around the garden.

It had been a while since Junhong had had someone to play with.

Later that day, Yongguk picked up the boy on the lawn who had fallen asleep from running around in the loudest of his giggles after he had put away the trash. With him seated on his arm, he pressed the doorbell to Himchans’ house.

He opened it sooner than expected.

Himchan never smiled a lot, but Yongguk had always admired him from afar. He had never really tried to talk to the most handsome man he had ever seen unless it was absolutely essential. Yongguk was in charge of gardening in their lot and Himchan only talked to him when he wanted a set of plants shifted or his grass cut or wanted to pay Yongguk at the end of the month.

Yongguk was twenty eight and had driven himself nowhere with time. His parents managed a small co-operation for gardeners and he just followed the path set for him ahead. His parents never pushed him in education so he never tried to compare himself with the classy Himchan wearing a tie to work. It’s been about three weeks since Yongguk had last visited Himchans’ house, and he never really expected a boy to be living here when he came.

“He fell asleep.” Yongguk said, and Himchan spared him a soft smile. “Covered in mud.” He remarked, and Yongguk airily laughed, saying sorry. But Himchan was quick to shake his head.

“No. Don’t be. He hadn’t been like this ever since he came here. I should be thanking.”
“I was watching you two” Himchan motioned to the window. He smiled at Yongguk again, and the gardeners’ heart skipped a beat. He smiled too.

Himchan put his arms around Junhong, to take him over. “I’ll give him a bath.” He said. “Thank you for looking after him.”

Yongguk shook his head. “It was fun.”

Himchan smiled again, and Yongguk literally felt his heart thud against his ribcage.

“He seems to like you.” Himchan said, and Yongguk felt beams of happiness spreading behind him. But Himchans smile dropped a little as he looked back to the boy asleep on his arms.
“Wish I could say the same about me.” He sighed, and Yongguk furrowed his brows.

He couldn’t really understand how anyone can not like Himchan Especially a cute boy as Junhong.

“How come?” He had asked, tongue before manners.
Himchan always had an elite air floating about him that had always stopped Yongguk from asking the things he had in his heart. Like his age, or what he did for work, his favorite color, embarrassing trivial things like that – he could never bring himself to ask.

“He’s … my brothers’ son.” Himchan explained.
He wasn’t really very sure why he was relating everything to Yongguk either, but the man had a bright smile and he cheered Junhong up the most Himchan had ever seen this evening, and he was covered in sweat and dust. He laughed a little.

“Come in. I’ll get you something. You look tired.” He said.

In his mind, Yongguk felt as if a nuclear power plant just exploded. But he managed to smile like an idiot and stepped in behind.
He had been cleaning his garden and watering his plants for the past two years, ever since he moved in, but never had been invited inside. Himchan wasn’t particularly the social kind and he spoke very less with people. Yongguk had always just watched from afar, because expecting a man as gorgeous as Himchan to notice him was a little too much to hope for.

Himchan left Yongguk to observe the tidy inside of the house, the pictures he had put on his walls, and things as he left to upstairs to put Junhong to bed.

He came down and asked if Yongguk would rather coffee or juice. Yongguks eyes were fixed on the shelf of old song albums Himchan had put to the side of his TV set, and when Himchan asked, Yongguk hadn’t thought much again. “Malt drink. Do you have … malt drink….?” Yongguks question trailed off as he realized Himchan was looking skeptically at him.
He felt stupid and blushed in a bashful smile, but Himchan laughed a little and forgave him.

“I don’t have that.” He admitted in a smile, and Yongguk took up his hands to protest. “Sorry, I’m sorry. Juice. Juice is good, I love juice too, really healthy.”

Yongguk was definitely stammering like an idiot but it made Himchan laugh again.

Never had he seen that many smiles and laughs by Himchan in one day before that. It nearly determined him to bring many more of those to those lips. They looked their best in that perfect curve.

Himchan turned the fan on for Yongguk and he felt a little icky because he smelled like sweat and dead leaves. But Himchan didn’t seem to mind. He asked Yongguk over to sit on the dining table with him, and he gladly obliged. Himchan served him with a glass of fresh orange juice he just poured out of the blender.

That was the best orange juice Yongguk had tasted in his entire life.

“Junhong, his name.” Himchan introduced. Yongguk nodded. “Lovely boy.” He said. But Himchan scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“A devil that boy. I sent him outside because he mixed sauce into my pasta again.” He complained. “Why does he do that?” He grumbled, but Yongguk was stuck since a bit ago.

“What? You sent him outside? As punishment?” Yongguk asked, and Himchan nodded yes, not very proud about it. Yongguk shook his head. “Don’t do that. If you want him to sit somewhere shouldn’t you send him to his room?”

Himchan sighed. “The last time I did that he ripped the bedsheets, believe me you. He had tried to make a swing by tying it on the knob of the cupboard and when I checked the sheets were ripped and the door knob was on the ground. I don’t even know how he does that.” Himchan sighed again.
“But he’s a bit more peaceful in the garden so … I ask him to sit there.”

“Oh, but I always watch him, through that. I won’t let him out of sight.” He said.

Yongguk tried to be understanding, and nodded his head. He took another sip of his orange juice and watched Himchan drink his own. God he was beautiful.

“I took him in a few weeks ago. Basically I’m his farther now. I’m just worried I won’t make a good one…” Himchan said. Yongguk bobbed his head backwards. “Took him in? Like… adopted?” He asked, and Himchan thought about the answer.

“Yeah, like that.”

“Did you say he was your brothers’ son?” Yongguk asked, both brows furrowed. How can you adopt your brothers’ son?

“He died. And his wife. Plane crash.”

Yongguks’ eyes widened like saucers. “Oh my …” he gasped out. “I am so sorry.” He said, quickly, but Himchan just smiled, brushing his hand to motion. “It’s alright, Yongguk-ssi, I never really knew him.”

The first thing Yongguk noticed was the way his name sounded coming out of Himchans’ lips. Raspy and airy and rusty and oh so beautiful. He felt a strong ball of pride rise to his throat as he realized that Himchan knew his name.

Next, he was hit with confusion, and it was obvious on his face.

“My brother and I never met. We were separated when our parents divorced. He lived with my farther and I with my mother.” He explained. He breathed in long and deep, and sighed out.

“Everyone is dead except him.” He said, face long and dull.
Then, a whisk of smile came as fast as it left. “He’s my only family.”

“I’m just worried I won’t make such a good family myself.” He confessed; but then looked up to meet Yongguks soft, yet confused eyes, and forced a chuckle. He waved his hand again.

“Haha, sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all that on you.” He waved his hand. “I just…” He trailed off, and chuckled. “….I don’t know why I did that.” He mumbled, confused with himself.

Yongguk smiled and finished his drin