Minho thought about his Taemin on occasion, when he saw bananas, milk or someone dancing without a care. He sometimes wondered if Taemin thought about him, but then he forgot about Taemin, remembered something else and called someone else and laughed about it. His old best friend faded from his mind until a day in late November when Minho was strolling about the city.

           At night, Seoul was a fantastic place, he thought. Minho reminisced about his high school and college memories, when he walked down these roads with his studying partners and later with his drinking buddies. They had all moved to different cities, Busan, Incheon, even different districts. But Minho always felt compelled to stay close to where he had grown up, ten minutes away from eastern Seoul. Maybe it was so that he could find Taemin, he thought. But he’d always pushed that thought back.

            “He still hasn’t come back” Minho would think sometimes.

            He walked swallowing his surroundings, hands in his pocket, lips pursed in a grimace until he found himself in front of his favourite coffee shop. He walked in and smiled at the cashier who had memorised his order.

            “Welcome, Mr. Choi. Your usual?”

            Minho nodded politely. “Yes, please.” He sat in his favourite seat by the window and stared out into the frosty air, concentration only broken when the warm drink was set in front of him. “Thanks,” he said. He shivered a bit before swallowing the beverage, enjoying the warmth that slid easily down his throat and settled in his empty belly. God, did Minho love coffee.

            It was getting cold once he’d finished drinking, and little puffs of breath made Minho breathe harder just so that he could pretend he was smoking or that he was a dragon. He paid, bowed and left, walking back in the direction of his own house. He turned a corner and toppled over.

            “Oh, no, I’m so sorry,” someone said, offering a hand to the boy on the floor.

            Minho grimaced and took the hand, standing. “It’s alright. What happened?” He asked.

            “He, he doesn’t listen to me very well,” the man said, gesturing to a small child hiding behind him. “Say sorry to the man,”

            The boy looked up into Minho’s face, seeming genuinely sorry. “Sorry,”

            Minho smiled down at the boy, “Its okay. Make sure you listen though. It’s really late though, what are you still doing out with a child?”

            The man shifted his stance. “We’re looking for somewhere to stay tonight. The last hotel didn’t want to let us in because he’s so young.”

            “Oh,” Minho said. “I have a friend who works at a hotel. Let me see if I can get you a room.”

            “Really?” He asked. “That would be great. Thank you...” the man gestured awkwardly.

            “Minho. Choi Minho,” Minho said, fumbling with his phone. His gloved hands made it hard to scroll through the phone. He completed the call quickly and turned to tell the stranger the news. “He says it’s fine! I’ll walk you there.”

            The man bowed his head and bit his lip, shyly. “Minho...”

            Minho raised an eyebrow. Why was this stranger calling him by his first name when they had hardly known each other for 5 minutes?

            “Don’t you know who I am, Minho?” the man asked, looking Minho in the eye.

            Minho inspected the man’s face and suddenly felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. He faltered and took a step back, trying to steady his breaths. “You can’t be... He said he would come back for me!”
            “Hyung, it’s me. I’m Taemin. Lee Taemin.”

            Minho sat down on a nearby bench. “I waited for you. I waited six years for you, Taemin. I thought you would at least call me, send my parents a letter. I never even changed my damn number, hoping that you would call stupid me...” he trailed off, staring at the concrete pavement.

            “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you for so long.” Taemin sat next to him, adjusting the toddler on his lap. “I got caught up, is all. I didn’t mean it, hyung. Honest.”

            Minho shook his head. “Why?”

            Taemin sighed. “It’s a long story and he’s is getting cold, hyung. Can’t I tell it to you another time?”

            “So you plan to see me again? In another six years?” Minho asked, coldly.

            “Hyung,” Taemin whined, unintentionally. “Really, I mean it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

            “I’m not letting you out of my sight, Taemin.”

            “But Inh--” he began.

            “Come to my place. I have a spare room and it’s better than a hotel. I just can’t let you go again, Taemin. I can’t.”

            Taemin pursed his lips and hesitated. “Oh, alright. Accept my apology, though”

            “No. Now come on,” Minho said. He pulled Taemin up and led him down the streets and around corners until they reached Minho’s apartment building.

            “You have an apartment?” Taemin asked, peering out from under his coat.

            “So?” Minho said, fumbling for his keys.

            “Nothing. I always thought you’d never get a proper house. I always thought that hyung would get an apartment.”

            Minho chuckled sadly. “You always knew me.” He unlocked the door, leading Taemin into the heated corridor. “I live on the third floor. Is that what you expected, too?”

            Taemin shook his head.

            “Me neither,” Minho said, unlocking the door to his apartment. “This is it. It’s a good place, kind of cheap. But you know, it works for me. The kitchen doesn’t have much, since I eat out a lot, but I guess I can go to the store later if you need anything. There’s two bathrooms, two bedrooms, the TV room and a porch.”

            Taemin set the toddler down because he was getting squirmy. “Where’s the room? He’s tired.”

            Minho pointed. “I’ll go get the spare blankets for you”

            They eventually made the bed and tucked the boy in. The child fell asleep quickly as Taemin stood over him. Taemin removed his jacket, threw it into his suitcase and went out into the TV room where Minho stood, looking at a bookshelf.

            “Taemin,” Minho said, suddenly, startling the younger. “Remember that book you used to love? You read it all the time and for my 14th birthday, you gave it to me and I was mad and I said--”

            “You said ‘What kind of present is a stupid old book?’ and I said ‘It’s not just any book. It’s my book’” Taemin finished.

            “Yeah,” Minho said, smiling. “I never read it. I know it’s dumb... but I always wanted to read it with you. And Taemin, after a while I forgot.” He paused. “I forgot about... you. I knew this book was here, but I still didn’t want to read it and I forgot why. But I knew I wasn’t supposed to read it.” He took the book off of the shelf and thumbed through its pages. “See? It’s the same as the day you gave it to me.”

            Taemin took the book and hugged it. “I wanted you to read it. I’m here now. Can’t you read it now?”

            “No,” Minho said. “When I made that promise, I loved you. God, Taemin, you knew I loved you. I told you everyday how much I loved you. Did you forget? I waited so patiently, marking off the days until your birthday because I loved you and I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t wait to read that book with you in our home under our blankets.”

            Taemin said nothing, caressing the book’s cover.

            “I spent the last three years convincing myself that I didn’t love you and that you didn’t love me. Because you know, Taemin, you know you never told me that you loved me back. I was so sure you did, but I thought about it for three years. I thought ‘if he loved me back, he would have emailed me or called me or even texted me.’ There’s never been anyone else but you, Taemin. Never in my life.”

            “Really? You never...?” he asked.

            “It was just you. Did you love me, Taemin? Was I the only one?”

            Taemin sighed. “Hyung, it’s not that simpl--”

            “Tell me, Taemin!” He shouted. His voice got quiet again as it shook, his raw emotion pouring out. “Was I the only one?”

            Taemin looked down. “No, you weren’t.”

            Minho stood, stiffly. “Where is he?”

           “She.” Taemin corrected, causing Minho to look up. “She’s not relevant anymore, hyung. Believe me. It was a... a mistake.”

            “She” Minho breathed. “What?”

            “I named him after you, hyung. I... I always thought about you, every moment of every day. But what was I supposed to do? I told her about you, how much I... I told her and she messed everything up. She deleted you from my life.”

            “How could I be ‘deleted’, huh? Named who?” Minho asked, still unmoving.

            “You know I was bad with numbers. Hell, I don’t even know my own number and I never memorised yours. And she, and she deleted your contact one day and I couldn’t remember your number to save my life and I told her to leave, but she wouldn’t”

            “What about my email? It was always the same thing! [email protected]!”

            “I know, hyung. I just got so busy that I couldn’t.”

            “I’m sure you were just so busy with her, weren’t you?”

            “No!”

            “With who?!” Minho demanded, tears close to spilling.

            “With Inho!” Taemin screamed back, shoving the book into Minho’s chest.

            Minho got quiet, staring at the younger man. “With Inho?”

            “I told you. I named him after you. I never forgot about you. I loved you, hyung. I loved you so much, I named him after you. I named my son after you, Minho! I couldn’t forget you, no matter how much I tried. That was the only name that I could think of because all I could ever think was ‘Minho, Minho, Minho, Minho’ and I named my only child after your stupid .”

            “You named your son after me?” Minho repeated.

            Taemin sighed, reminding Minho of the Taemin he once knew. “Yeah, I did. You can think I forgot about you all you want, but I never did. I always kept you close to me.”

            “How old is he?” Minho asked, looking in the direction of the spare room.

            “He just turned three in October,” Taemin said.

            “You had a kid when you were 19?” Minho asked incredulously.

            “Is there something wrong with that?”

            “No, no there isn’t. You know I couldn’t think anything is wrong with that.” Minho’s mother had been 20 years old when she had him, while Taemin’s had been in her late twenties. “Just, Taemin, why did you wait so long to come back?”

            “I tried to make it work out with her. I really did, for his sake. What was I supposed to tell him, if I didn’t try? ‘Daddy left Mommy for a man’? But she was crazy, hyung. She didn’t want to be around him and I, I just had to be his father for him,”

            Minho sighed and placed the worn book out back onto the shelf. “You became a father while I just sat here on my and did nothing with my life besides get a dumb 9-to-5 job. I was stupid, Taemin. I thought when you came back; it would be the same as when you left.”

            “I’m still me. I’m still Lee Taemin,” Taemin mumbled.

            “You’re not just Taemin, though. You’re a father. You can’t say that hasn’t changed you,” Minho retorted.

            “So, what, you don’t love me anymore?”

            “I don’t think I can ever not love you. You were my first love, my only love. The only man I have ever thought about.” He broke eye contact. “You’re still the only one I care about.”

            “So, you do love me?” Taemin inquired again, eyes locked on Minho.

            “Yeah,” Minho confessed, running his fingers through his hair. “But, God, Taemin. I just didn’t think you’d come back. I don’t think I can, I don’t know if I can just jump into a relationship with you so suddenly.”

            “I know. But try, hyung because I missed you so much and my heart hurts. I know it’s late, but I came back for you”

            Minho looked at his watch. “Let’s get to bed. Let’s talk about this tomorrow.”

            Taemin reluctantly nodded and watched as Minho walked away to his room. “Hyung?”

            Minho turned.

            “I loved you all along and I still love you. Know that, okay?”

            Minho smiled sadly. “I’m happy you do.”