Junhong comes into Yongguk’s life a crying bundle of warmth and snot.

Yongguk hears the crying come from an alleyway, stuttering and too high-pitched to be an adult’s sobs. He wanders in, curious, and sees exactly what he hoped he wouldn’t.

He sees an infant in a basket set beside a dumpster.

Yongguk crouches in front of the baby. He feels disgust bubble up inside him. Who would leave a ing child out here? He scoops the baby up from the basket and its cries begin to die down into hiccups.

Yongguk feels something else emerge inside him. It shoves the disgust away and takes hold in his mind. Something akin to sympathy, empathy. He can’t quite put a name to it.

He notices a note sitting at the bottom of the basket. Still holding the baby in one arm, he picks up the note and unfolds it. The message appears to have been scribbled hastily.

His name is Junhong. Please take care of him. I’m sure whoever you are, you’ll do better than I ever could have.

Yongguk’s throat closes up. He pockets the note and holds the baby––Junhong––closer to him.

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do, but he’s definitely not going to leave Junhong out here.

//

Yongguk picks up some small jars of baby food from a supermarket and hurries home. Once he gets into his apartment, he gives Junhong a warm bath in the large bowl he keeps in the shower. He figures it’s better than nothing. He’s seen mothers do plenty of this stuff on TV.

Junhong warms up to Yongguk quickly. He giggles when Yongguk splashes the water around to rinse the soap and wraps his tiny hand tightly around Yongguk’s index finger.

Yongguk tries not to become too attached. He knows Junhong deserves something better than a recent college graduate. He’ll have to give Junhong up for adoption. 

“Guk?” a voice calls out as the front door slams shut. “Guk, I’m back! Where are you?”

“In the bathroom!” Yongguk replies. He lifts Junhong out of the bowl and wraps him in a towel, gently drying him. “I’ll be right out!”

Yongguk dumps the water and walks out, Junhong wriggling in the towel. Yongguk has to hold Junhong with both his arms to make sure he doesn’t fall out.

“Um, Guk.” Yongguk looks up and finds Jieun standing in front of him with her eyebrows raised. “What do you have in your arms?”

Yongguk doesn’t say anything, just turns Junhong around to show Jieun. Her eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets when she realizes that it’s a real, living baby in Yongguk’s hands.

“Yongguk,” Jieun says slowly, Yongguk knows that voice. She uses it when she’s mad at him. “Why do you have a baby?”

“I found him in an alleyway,” Yongguk explains. He fishes in his pocket for the note. “This was left with him.”

Jieun reads the note and her hand flies to . She looks at Yongguk, her eyes beginning to water. 

“Are you serious?” she whispers behind her hand.

Yongguk nods.

“Let me see him,” Jieun says. She places the note on the table and cradles Junhong in her arms. He gurgles something incomprehensible as his hands come up to grab at her hair. She lifts her head before he can. “Why would anybody do this?”

Yongguk shrugs. “I’m asking myself the same question.”

“What do we do with him?” Jieun asks. She sits down in a chair. 

Yongguk shrugs again. “He needs to eat, though.” He grabs the chair beside Jieun and one of the jars from the plastic bag. “Put him in your lap.”

Jieun sits Junhong straight in her lap as Yongguk fetches a spoon from the kitchen. “We can’t raise him, Guk.”

“We’ll think of something,” Yongguk replies. He sits back down and scoops half a spoonful of mush. “Say ahh.”

Junhong imitates Yongguk, opening his mouth and making a tiny sound. The spoon is too big for his mouth and barely anything manages to get in, but Junhong is still smiling.

But something in the back of Yongguk’s mind screams at him to raise Junhong himself.

//

It’s been several weeks, and Yongguk and Jieun think they find an acceptable adoption agency to put Junhong in. They’re scheduled to meet up with someone to talk about what to do with Junhong.

He sits on a worn rug in a corner of the room, playing with the sparse toys provided, as Yongguk and Jieun sit across from an intimidating woman with her hair pulled in a tight bun.

The office is bland. White walls illuminated with harsh fluorescent lights. The gray tile is speckled with multicolored dots.

“And why are giving your child up for adoption?” she asks.

Yongguk shakes his head. “He’s not our––“

“Let me rephrase that,” she says, her eyes only growing sterner. “Why did you conceive a child in the first place if you were only going to put it up for adoption?”

And Yongguk thinks back to the news articles. 

Child left outside a police station in Seoul. 

Adoption agencies struggling to accommodate growing number of children.

Yongguk realizes he can’t leave Junhong here. Was he left in that alleyway because his parent didn’t want to face whatever Yongguk and Jieun are going through right now? He suddenly stands up, the chair screeching on the tiled floor. Jieun looks up at him with surprise in her eyes.

Yongguk wants to throw every curse at this woman. He wants to yell at her for the questions she asked. But he holds his tongue. Instead, he balls his hands into fists and calmly tells her, “We’re incredibly sorry for wasting your time, but we’re not leaving Junhong here.”

“Yongguk?” Jieun asks as Yongguk scoops Junhong into his arms and storms out of the room.

Yongguk pushes through the doors into the chilled autumn air. He can feel his throat close up the same way it did when he first found Junhong.

“Yongguk, what the hell was that?!” Jieun exclaims behind Yongguk.

Yongguk spins around. He’s angry, and the last thing he wants to do is lash out at Jieun, but his blood is boiling and he can see red in the edges of his vision. “You heard how she spoke to us! How can we leave Junhong here if she’s like that to us and we’re not even the parents?! Who knows what could happen to Junhong?!”

“Think about what might happen if we raise Junhong ourselves!” Jieun replies. “He’s not a pet! You’re holding an actual human in your arms! We don’t have the money or the time for a baby!”

“Well, we can think of something!” Yongguk says. He’s getting desperate. They both are.

Jieun throws her arms in the air in frustration. “I can’t do this! I just got out of college! We’re supposed to be thinking about our futures!”

Yongguk can’t believe what he’s hearing. Is Jieun really going to leave him like this? He thought she was going to support him…no matter what.

“What the are you trying to say?!”

“That I don’t want to take care of a baby at 21!” 

They stare each other down. Yongguk gets ready to shout again, but Junhong starts to cry. First, it’s a quiet babble, but then he starts to shriek. Yongguk relaxes, just now realizing that he forgot about Junhong, and starts to rock him in his arms.

“Junhong? It’s okay. You’re alright,” Yongguk says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Jieun sighs and stands beside Yongguk. “Let’s get in the car.”

//

Jieun ends up leaving.

She packs her things and is gone by the week’s end.

I’m sorry, but I just can’t focus on a baby right now. I have to think about my career, she tells Yongguk Saturday morning. She stands on her toes, holding onto Yongguk’s shoulders, and pulls him in for one last kiss.

When she walks out, Yongguk can’t even bring himself to cry.

//

Yongguk sits before his parents, forcing himself to relax because he has Junhong sitting in his lap. They stare at him with wide, unbelieving eyes, but he doesn’t back down. 

“You…have a son now? You’re a father?” his father asks. He folds his arms atop his chest. He’s obviously disapproving. He glances at Junhong.

Yongguk isn’t used to that word being applied to him––Yongguk, a father––but he’s taken full responsibility for Junhong now.

“When was this?” his mother asks.

Yongguk explains how he came across Junhong. He explains why he’s going to be taking care of Junhong. 

His parents don’t interrupt him once.

When Yongguk finishes, he lets out a deep breath, anticipating their reply. He’s certain that they’ll disapprove, but Yongguk refuses to give up Junhong. He closes his eyes when his head starts spinning, but Junhong keeps him grounded.

“How will you take care of him?” his mother eventually asks. “Won’t you be working?”

“I’m beginning to work night shifts so I can take care of him during the day,” Yongguk replies.

His mother purses her lips. “I know I can’t stop you when you’ve set your mind on things, so I’ll help you instead.”

His father begins to protest. “Honey––“

She holds a finger up to silence him. “Get a job and I can look after Junhong during the day, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to take care of him for you. He’s your responsibility. You’ve chosen to become a father now, Yongguk. You have to provide for and raise him like we did for you and your siblings. Do you understand?”

Yongguk nods. He can feel a glimmer of hope inside him. “Of course. Thank you.”

His mother nods. “Good. I never thought I’d become a grandmother so soon.”

“I can,” his father clears his throat, “I can offer you a job at my company. Since you meet the requirements, it shouldn’t be a problem. I can recommend you to my supervisor.”

That glimmering hope becomes brighter. 

Yongguk feels tears sting his eyes. This is the best outcome he could have hoped for.

//

Yongguk’s job isn’t the best, but he doesn’t complain. Despite being what’s basically an errand boy, he’s just grateful to be working. 

He drops Junhong off with his mother, drives to the company office, and comes back at five. On weekends, Yongguk drives around the city with Junhong sitting in Yongguk’s old car seat in the back. They go to the park, the zoo, anywhere that Yongguk thinks parents normally take their kids. It becomes a steady routine for the both of them.

As months pass by and slowly turn to years, Yongguk grows to love Junhong. If, when he was 18 and just starting college, he was told he’d be raising a child at 22, he’d laugh. But now, with Junhong beside him, he thinks that being a father isn’t so bad. 

//

“Can you say dad?” Yongguk asks.

Junhong totters over to his pile of building blocks and sits down. He looks at Yongguk with a gummy smile and says something that’s almost incomprehensible, but Yongguk is able to pick up the word dad.

Yongguk can’t stop the smile from emerging on his face. He pulls Junhong close to him, his smile growing even wider when Junhong begins giggling. He lays down on the floor with Junhong on top of his chest.

“I hope you become a smart little nugget when you grow up, Junhong,” Yongguk says, gently tugging at Junhong’s cheeks. “Just like grandma and grandpa.”

Junhong begins to pout and swat at Yongguk’s hands. Yongguk laughs and lets go.

//

When Junhong turns five, Yongguk enrolls him into a kindergarten class. Yongguk is skeptical at first, but he realizes that Junhong has never really interacted with other children before. Plus, Yongguk’s mother said that kindergarten will only give Junhong an advantage over the other kids when he starts a formal education.

The kindergarten is a small building with a couple classrooms, each one containing about fifteen kids each. It had good reviews when Yongguk looked it up.

Yongguk stands in the classroom, surrounded by kids and worrying moms (Yongguk quickly realizes he’s the only male parent there). Junhong hides behind Yongguk’s leg, gripping Yongguk’s jeans in his hands. 

A young man wearing an apron comes up to greet Yongguk. Hisblack hair is neatly swpet to one side, and his whole body seems to exude friendliness. He holds out his hand with a wide smile. “Hi, I’m Kim Himchan, this class’s teacher. It’s nice to meet you.”

Yongguk takes Himchan’s hand and gives it a firm shake. “Yongguk. Nice to meet you too.”

Himchan looks at Junhong, then back at Yongguk. “This is Junhong, then?”

Yongguk is a little surprised and impressed that the teacher already knows their names. “Yeah.”

Himchan kneels down to greet Junhong and offers his hand. “Hi, Junhong. My name is Mr. Kim. I’m your teacher.”

Junhong gives Himchan a little wave, but his other hand stays glued to Yongguk’s pants. In fact, Yongguk thinks it gets tighter.

“Junhong, it’s not that bad,” Yongguk urges. He pries Junhong’s hand from his jeans and crouches to reach Junhong’s eye level. “It’s kinda like staying at grandma’s house.”

“No, it’s not,” Junhong replies while vigorously shaking his head.

Yongguk shrugs. “Okay, maybe not, but you’ll make lots of new friends here.”

Junhong looks halfway convinced. He looks down at the floor. “I guess…”

“Tell you what, after I pick you up, we can get ice cream,” Yongguk says with a smile.

Junhong’s face immediately lights up. His eyes begin to sparkle. “Really?”

“Yeah, you’re taking a big step, but you’re a big boy, right? You can do it.”

“Yeah!” Junhong exclaims. He wraps his thin arms around Yongguk’s neck and takes Himchan’s hand.

Himchan stands up and Yongguk does the same. Himchan is still smiling; this time it looks more reassuring. “He’ll be perfectly fine here.” He looks at Junhong. “Ready to play with the other kids?”

Junhong nods, following Himchan further into the classroom. He turns back briefly to wave. “Bye, dad!”

Yongguk waves back and turns around to head out. He meets eyes with several of the mothers. Some of them look at him with disapproving eyes. Others look like they’re ready to pounce on him. Either way, he doesn’t like it. He tries to get out of there as quickly as possible.

//

Junhong can’t stop talking about how his day went. He holds his ice cream cone in his hand, leaning up to reach the table from his chair. 

Yongguk sits patiently and listens. He’s never been so fascinated with someone talking before. He never paid this much attention during his college lectures. 

“And we played hide and seek from Mr. Kim!” Junhong says. “I hid under one of the tables with Jongup.”

Yongguk grabs a napkin and wipes the dripping ice cream from Junhong’s hand. “That sounds so cool. Is Jongup your new friend?”

Junhong nods, quickly the edge of the cone. “Yeah. He doesn’t talk a lot, but he’s cool.”

“So, all in all,” Yongguk says, “you had tons of fun?”

Junhong gives Yongguk a look that would have said duh if Junhong knew the word.

Yongguk laughs. “Finish up your ice cream. We’re meeting grandma later.”

“Oh.” Junhong begins to eat slower. 

//

Kindergarten turns out to not be so bad for Junhong. His friend Jongup is brighter than he lets on, but that doesn’t seem to bother either of them.

Yongguk sometimes hears the mothers whispering when they think Yongguk doesn’t hear.

It’s always the father.

Where’s the mother?

Does the child even have a mother?

Isn’t that a little dysfunctional?

Yongguk just grits his teeth and walks past them, pretending not to hear them.

“Hey, dad,” Junhong says in the car one day.

“What’s up?” Yongguk says.

“Who’s my mom?” Junhong asks in the quietest voice.

Yongguk is grateful to be stopped at a red light because he feels like he would have swerved right off the road. He gulps the growing lump in his throat. He can feel the sweat building in the tiny crevasses of his palm. He knew this question was going to be asked sooner or later. He just hoped it would have been later.

Yongguk can’t bring himself to look at Junhong. “W-why do you ask that?” 

Junhong shrugs. “It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Yongguk asks. He desperately wants to avoid answering this for as long as possible, but if Junhong wants to know… He deserves to know. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Junhong takes a deep breath. In the corner of Yongguk’s eyes, he can see Junhong playing with the unraveled thread on his shirt. “Well, there were these kids and they asked me where my mom was and I told them I don’t have one and… They laughed and called me weird.”

This is the second time Yongguk has been so disgusted, he felt like he was going to throw up. The light turns green, and Yongguk hesitates for a moment before pressing the gas.

“Um, your mom,” Yongguk starts. His voice shakes. He clears his throat. She left you in an alleyway. She made a mistake. She–– “She is an extremely brave woman.”

Yongguk doesn’t know how to tell the truth to Junhong. He’ll tell Junhong when he’s older.

“Really?” Junhong asks.

“Yeah. She… She, um, gave you to me, which was the greatest gift she could have ever given,” Yongguk says. 

They’re all half-truths, but maybe it’ll keep Junhong satisfied for now.

//

Yongguk is running late. He was supposed to pick Junhong up thirty minutes ago. His stupid boss kept him back to write up some bull report about sales or something. Yongguk pulls his car into the parking lot and rushes into the building, not even bothering to pull the key out of the ignition. When he reaches the classroom, he finds Junhong sitting at one of the circular tables, coloring with Himchan.

“Fu–– Oh my god, I’m so sorry I didn’t come earlier,” Yongguk says, running his hand through his hair. He walks up to Junhong, ready to scoop him up, but Himchan places a warm hand on Yongguk’s elbow.

“Yongguk, can I speak to you for a moment?” Himchan asks.

Yongguk feels his blood run cold.

“Junhong, why don’t you finish your drawing? I need to talk to your dad for a little bit,” Himchan says, patting Junhong’s back.

Junhong doesn’t look up, but he gives a thumbs-up. “Okay.”

Himchan pulls Yongguk to the other side of the classroom. The concern on his face is clear as day. “I heard some kids bullying Junhong because he doesn’t have a mother. Is this true?”

“Yeah.” Yongguk prepares himself for the worst, except he’s not quite sure what it is. “Look, you can talk about me all you want, just don’t let it affect Junhong.” He looks at Himchan with wide eyes, silently pleading. “Just please don’t hurt Junhong. He likes it here.”

Himchan’s eyebrows furrow. “What? No, I wouldn’t… Junhong is a smart kid. He’s incredibly optimistic, I’m just worried about how the bullies will affect him. I think I’m fending off the worst of it, but you never really know.”

Yongguk feels relief wash over him. He closes his eyes. Thank god. When he opens his eyes again, Himchan still looks concerned. “So… Why are you telling me this?”

“I just…” Himchan looks down for a moment. “I heard some of the mothers talking earlier. They got pretty nasty with their comments and I don’t think Junhong heard, but––“

“No, I know,” Yongguk says. “I’ve heard them before.”

The look in Himchan’s eyes changes into something else. Something like sympathy. “I know…it must be hard raising a child alone, so…” Himchan takes a pen and a notepad from one of the pockets of his apron and writes something down. He rips out a page and hands it to Yongguk; it’s a phone number. “If you ever run into any trouble, don’t hesitate to call me, okay?”

“Thanks.” Yongguk pockets the piece of paper with a smile. He pulls a business card out of his jacket pocket and hands it to Himchan. 

He’s really grateful to have met Himchan.

//

Ever since that talk with Himchan, Yongguk begins to trust him. They begin to talk more once most of the kids are gone (Junhong doesn’t mind because he finally has all the toys to himself). Because Junhong takes up most of Yongguk’s time, he doesn’t meet up with other people his age. It’s refreshing, to say the least, to talk to someone like him.

Yongguk finds out Himchan is going to college for a teaching degree.

Yongguk also finds out that if Himchan gets a satisfactory rating from the parents, the school is willing to let him teach here again next year.

Himchan is a very passionate individual, and Yongguk doesn’t know if he’s ever met someone as passionate as Himchan.

Yongguk is familiar with love. 

Maybe he feels it every time he sees Himchan. Maybe he feels it when he sees Himchan’s smile turn into something more genuine. Maybe he feels it when Himchan plays with Junhong, talking to him like he does with the other kids.

//

Junhong always gets sick in the winter. Even though Yongguk slices oranges for Junhong and stocks up on orange juice, Junhong always manages to come down with a cold. Yongguk has learned to deal with it; he also learned how to cook his mother’s chicken soup (he’ll admit that it doesn’t taste as good). 

He has a routine down and everything. Take a couple days off from work. Take care of Junhong until he gets better. Cook soup. Take his temperature. Give him medicine every six to eight hours. Junhong usually gets better within a couple days.

But this time is different. It’s been three days and Junhong’s fever isn’t going down. Before, he’d still be bouncing around even if he was coughing, but now, he sits in front of the TV, wrapped in three blankets. He just looks so tired.

Yongguk walks into the living room, carrying a bowl of soup. “How you feeling, buddy?”

Junhong looks up. His face is so red, it’s almost glowing. He mumbles something that can’t be heard through the blankets.

Yongguk places the bowl on the coffee table and sits beside Junhong, grabbing the thermometer from the end table. He holds it in front of Junhong. “Say ahh.”

Junhong lifts his head a little and opens his mouth. Yongguk places it on Junhong’s tongue, waiting a moment before taking it out.

The result on the tiny monitor reads 38ºC. Yongguk sighs in relief. Still good. He places the thermometer back on the napkin on the end table, and grabs the bowl of soup.

“Here, it’s soup. Your favorite,” Yongguk says before scooping a spoonful and blowing on it slightly.

//

It’s one in the morning when Yongguk brings Junhong into the emergency room.

His fever went up to 41ºC and wasn’t going down. He wasn’t waking up either.

Yongguk feels his heartbeat pounding in his chest as he watches Junhong being taken away by nurses. He feels his hands shake when he brings them up to his face. He paces the length of the waiting room. He can’t bring himself to sit down.

Sometime after that, Yongguk gets his phone out. His finger hovers above Himchan’s name. He contemplates calling Himchan. He just can’t bear being alone anymore.

Yongguk presses his phone to his ear, waiting with bated breath for Himchan to pick up.

“Hello?” comes Himchan’s sleepy voice. 

“I’m so sorry,” Yongguk whispers. “I-I really need you to come here. Please.”

“Yongguk? What’s wrong?” Himchan asks. He doesn’t sound as sleepy anymore.

Yongguk sits in one of the chairs. He draws in a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “It’s Junhong. He was running a really high fever and… And he wasn’t waking up. Himchan, I can’t lose him. Not after all the we’ve been through.”

“Are you in the hospital?” Himchan asks.

“Yeah,” Yongguk replies. “Seoul National.”

“I’ll be there as fast as I can,” Himchan says before hanging up.

Yongguk grips his phone. The way the edge bites into his skin is just barely enough to anchor him to reality. The fifteen minutes Yongguk waits for Himchan to arrive are the longest in his life.

Himchan walks into the waiting room wearing sweats and a jacket over a ragged shirt, his hair pushed back by a headband. Yongguk immediately regrets calling, but he can’t say anything when Himchan walks over and pulls Yongguk into his arms.

“Thank you,” Yongguk says into the crook of Himchan’s shoulder. It smells faintly like his cologne.

“Where’s Junhong right now?” Himchan asks. Yongguk appreciates how Himchan doesn’t let go.

“Behind those doors,” Yongguk replies quietly.

Himchan rubs Yongguk’s back. “It’s okay. He’ll be fine. He’s a strong kid.”

And Yongguk finally feels the stress of everything beginning to spill over. The constant underlying worry for Junhong. The fear of just having enough money to scrape by. The helplessness of thinking he isn’t the right family for Junhong. 

Yongguk gathers fistfuls of Himchan’s jacket as the tears slip out of his eyes. 

Is he really cut out to be a father?

//

Himchan brings Yongguk a paper cup full of water. It’s almost 1:30.

“Thanks,” Yongguk mumbles. He’s completely drained. Emotionally and physically.

“You should sleep,” Himchan says, sipping coffee. “I’ll wake you up if something happens.”

Yongguk shakes his head. “I can’t. I have to do this for Junhong.”

“You’ve already done so much for him. You need a break,” Himchan says. 

“No. Never for Junhong,” Yongguk insists. Even though he’s struggling to keep his eyes open, he has to stay awake.

“Really, it’s okay,” Himchan continues. “You deserve it.”

Yongguk shakes his head. “Not until I know Junhong is okay. I need him to know I’ll never leave him.”

Himchan is quiet for a moment. Yongguk glances over at the double doors where the nurses disappeared with Junhong, but they show no sign of moving anytime soon.

“Yongguk, what do you mean?” Himchan asks slowly. He sounds like he’s choosing his words carefully.

Yongguk doesn’t know what to reply. What does Himchan expect for an answer? Should he tell the truth? 

“I…” Yongguk takes a deep breath. He stares at the water in his cup. “When I was 22, I found Junhong in an alleyway. He was probably only a month old at the most. I picked him up and I felt this…attachment almost instantly. I almost dropped him off at an adoption center, but I couldn’t do it.” Yongguk pauses. He can’t bring himself to look at Himchan right now. “Everyday, I wonder whether or not that was the right choice, but all I know is that I gotta give Junhong my best.”

Himchan is silent again.

When Yongguk looks up, he can’t read Himchan’s face.

Himchan doesn’t reply, but he places his coffee on the floor and wraps Yongguk in a tight hug. “I had no idea. I always thought his mother had died or left or… I’m sorry.”

Yongguk is about to reply, but the double doors open. 

Himchan lets go. Yongguk bolts out of his seat. The nurse comes up to them with a tight smile.

“Junhong is fine,” she starts and Yongguk almost falls to the floor. “There was a virus in his respiratory system, but we’ve controlled it. He should be able to get out tomorrow because he needs the rest. Would you like to see him?”

“Yes, please. Thank you,” Yongguk replies hastily.

Yongguk begins to follow her, but he realizes Himchan is still standing by the doorway, looking like he isn’t sure if he should follow Yongguk or not. Yongguk still feels a little bad for making Himchan come all this way. He goes back and hugs Himchan. 

“Thank you so much,” Yongguk says. 

“If you want, I can come with you,” Himchan says.

“Is that okay with you?” Yongguk asks. Truthfully, he doesn’t want Himchan to leave just yet.

Himchan smiles, tired but sincere. “Of course.”

They both follow the nurse down the long hall. Somehow, Himchan grabs a hold of Yongguk’s hand in his own, interlocking his warm fingers with Yongguk’s.

When they reach Junhong’s room, he’s sleeping in a bed too big for him. He looks even tinier inside it. As the nurse closes the door, Yongguk rushes to Junhong’s side to grab his hand. It’s so warm.

Yongguk doesn’t realize he’s crying until Himchan passes him a tissue. He takes the tissue and wipes his cheeks and eyes with a laugh that comes out sounding like a cross between a wheeze and a whimper.

“Am I really crying again?” he asks.

Himchan just hands the tissue box to Yongguk with a smile. Yongguk laughs again, and it sounds a little more normal this time.

Junhong begins to stir, groaning and turning on the bed. “Dad?”

Yongguk takes Junhong’s hand again. “I’m here, Junhong. How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” Junhong replies. His eyes are slipping shut again. “Hey, Dad?”

“What’s up?” Yongguk asks.

Junhong doesn’t reply. He just moves to one side of the bed and begins to fall back asleep. Yongguk stares at Junhong for a moment before realizing what he wants. He glances back at Himchan, but he’s already sitting in the cushioned chair.

“What are you staring at me for?” Himchan asks, but he’s smiling still. Always smiling. “I’m not moving from this chair. Your only choice is next to your son.”

Yongguk smiles back at Himchan. He’s really tempted to pull him in for a kiss, but he’s pretty sure he’s just tired. He lifts the blanket and crawls into the bed beside Junhong. As soon as Yongguk settles in, Junhong curls into him, bringing his legs up to his chest. 

Yongguk presses a kiss against Junhong’s forehead before falling asleep.

//

When Yongguk wakes up, the first thing he hears is the bustle. Footsteps tapping against tile, voices drifting from the hall, papers rustling. He opens his eyes to bright sunlight and white walls and black hair. He looks down and sees Junhong still sleeping.

Yongguk carefully sits up, still a little disoriented.

“Good morning,” Himchan says behind Yongguk.

Yongguk twists around to find Himchan sitting in the chair with a cup of coffee. 

“Hey,” Yongguk says. He tries to smile, but it feels a little like a scowl. “Did you just wake up?”

“Nah, I got us some coffee. Took a walk around the hospital,” Himchan replies.

“What time is it?”

Himchan pulls his phone out of his pocket. “11:06.”

Yongguk gets off the bed, stretching his arms above his head.

“Why don’t you wash up?” Himchan suggests. “I’ll watch over Junhong while you’re gone.”

Yongguk nods and shuffles slowly to the bathroom. When he looks in the mirror, he sees how hellish he looks. Something crusty sticks to the corners of his eyes. Dried tracks from his tears line his cheeks. Clumps of his hair stick up in random directions.

Yongguk splashes his face with cold water and tries to get his hair into something halfway socially appropriate. Ten minutes pass before he returns to Junhong and Himchan. When he does, Junhong is already awake and talking to Himchan.

“Dad!” Junhong exclaims when he sees Yongguk. “Why didn’t you tell me Mr. Kim was with us?”

“Surprise?” Yongguk replies, sitting on the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“Like I could race Jongup,” Junhong says. He coughs a little, but that doesn’t seem to discourage him.

Yongguk is just glad to see Junhong back to his normal self again.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Himchan says. “After you’re checked out, Junhong, we go get breakfast at this nice place. They have lots of waffles.”

Junhong lights up and looks at Yongguk.

“What’s that look for? Of course we’re gonna go,” Yongguk says.

//

Yongguk follows Himchan’s car to a little hole-in-the-wall diner that serves American breakfasts. It’s a small place, but it feels cozy instead of cramped. The comforting scent of eggs and bread completely engulfs them.

They all sit in a booth by a window, looking at their menus, but Junhong colors on the paper kid’s menu the waitress gave him.

Yongguk feels Himchan’s hand grab his underneath the table. When he looks up, Himchan is still looking at the menu, but he’s smiling.

Yongguk has a feeling he isn’t going to be quite as alone anymore.