Q: When did you come out of the closet?

“Dibs!”

Hyukjae frowned as the microphone was instantly snatched from his hand, and Donghae cleared his throat into it. Students leaned closer, eager to hear his next words.

Damn.

He wanted the closet question.

And he wanted it even more the moment Donghae glanced at him with a smirk before parting his lips to answer. This can’t be good.

*

I was a pretty weird kid, kept to myself and never really bothered to mingle with other kids when I visit the neighborhood park with my brother. By ‘other kids’, I mean that huge—bundle? Can I say bundle?—bundle of sweaty smelly boys playing basketball and fighting for dominance at the jungle gym. They’d invite me to play with them, but I would refuse each time because, well, they were smelly and sweaty. What did they expect?

‘Hey, I was part of that “bundle”!’

‘Which further proves my point.’

‘Yah, Lee Donghae--!’

It’s not that I was anti-social or preferred my pretty picture books over actual human conversation. No, I just didn’t understand all the hype about playing in the hot scorching sun when the breeze under the shade of a tree was so refreshing. So I remained there despite the occasional surges of loneliness and in time, I find my own clique who thankfully shares the same sentiments.

My clique that comprised entirely of girls.

‘Wasn’t Heechul hyung there too?’

‘Exactly.’

It’s no mystery what happens from then on and it’s certainly no surprise to anyone, not even my dad, when I take my first baby steps out of the closet (especially when Heechul hyung is so eager to pull me into his world of drag).

A good percent of the family was convinced I was gay a year before I convinced myself.

Things were pretty smooth sailing for me.

For him—not so much.

*

“Pfft--”

The students blink in alarm when Donghae cackles manically into the microphone, and unsure smiles tug at their lips when Hyukjae starts hitting his husband’s shoulder and tries reaching for the mic, but instantly retreats when Donghae bites his finger.

He shrinks back to his seat and groans, “Can’t you give the summarized version? I thought we talked about a summarized version, Hae. ”

Donghae gives him a wry smile.

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

*

His mom is a fanatic.

No, not an ordinary fanatic (as ordinary as fanatics could get), but she is obsessed over male pairings—gay fiction, manga, fanmade videos, you name it. Her husband is well aware of this fact, and has long grown used to her wailing tendencies, accompanies her to concerts, and pays no mind when she talks about how she ‘ships’ him with his best friend. Male best friend.

His mom is actually really cute that way.

‘You’re only saying this because she adores you.’

‘Well, she should.’

And just as any fanatic’s mind should work, the moment Mrs. Lee got over her protective motherly instincts and Hyukjae grew into his shoulders, she found something new to obsess over: finding the perfect guy to ship her son with—a ship that would ‘sail so hard it rockets into space’! The mothership of all ships! The most perfect, flawless, indestructible ship!

‘I don’t remember her saying that…’

‘Shut up and let me talk.’

Her technique was subtle at first.

Comments on how well those two guys get along, how that pair of guys compliment each other in a photo, short clips of them joking around, singing songs together, exchanging glances that last a beat longer than necessary, and in a few months’ time, she had him right in the palm of her hand. Hyukjae would gush with his mom about her their ‘one true pairing’ and Hyukjae’s dad made it a priority to shop for a new set of earplugs.

During my occasional visits to his house, their fandom tendencies often left me half-disturbed and half-worried, because as much as my mom was friends with Hyukjae’s parents, I honestly did not want to be present if either of them died of a heart attack because ‘they just can't’.

Now, I was gay.

Hyukjae was practically female.

Unfortunately for his mom, this was only a phase for her growing teenager. It didn’t take long before her son had his arm slung across various girls’ shoulders instead of gushing with her about the latest flirty interaction. He preferred going on dates—with girls—instead of sitting with her at the park just to people-watch (in her case, scout for guys who would look good with her son).

She was disappointed of course, but was not fazed by this ‘minor setback’ and was certain Hyukjae would eventually come to his senses. The few boys he did eventually have flings with were not ship-worthy enough for Mrs. Lee, and after many years, she began to accept the fact that her son really could be straight after all.

Until me, of course.

*

“So kids, in summary, little Hyukjae here never stepped out of the closet.” Donghae leaned over to pinch his husband’s cheek and spoke in a mocking baby voice, “Momma dragged him out.”

Hyukjae shoved him away as the room erupted into laughter, “You’re going to regret going off-script, Lee Donghae.”

Donghae grinned, his endearingly crooked teeth making the girls in the room swoon and coo, but Hyukjae knew better.

No, he wasn’t getting away with this.

Hyukjae grabbed the microphone and smirked, “next question, please.”

Q:  Who’s the girl in your relationship?

“Ha!” Hyukjae gestured between them, “isn’t it obvious?”

Donghae spluttered, “I thought we talked about this?!”

“We did?” He mockingly pressed a finger against his temple, “Now why would we do that?”

“Because!”

“But honey,” he leaned over to pinch Donghae’s cheek, “where’s the fun in that?”

*

I never really said it out loud before.

I figured it was the sort of assumption that’s so blatantly obvious that I don’t need to. But just a few months into our marriage, I seriously begin to wonder if Donghae is secretly a woman underneath all that testosterone.

During the nerve wrecking pre-proposal period, I mentally listed down the various reasons why I was ready to spend the rest of my life with him. And to be honest, the fact that Donghae was a guy was certainly a prevailing factor. Because guys are easier to live with—no freakishly long shopping and showering hours, no fighting over wardrobe space, no monthly emotional rollercoasters—falling in love with him is probably the best thing that’s happened to me!

Until the day Donghae’s manstruation hit.

Yes, manstruation. Because he may not literally and physically be on red alert, but emotionally, he’s just as messed up as a girl on her period.

*

“Is this about the pizza?” Donghae squeaked, “Please tell me this isn’t about the pizza! Anything but the pizza!”

Students chuckle as they watched one bury his face in his hands and the other blink blankly as he loosely held the microphone.

“No,” Hyukjae says after a while and breaks into a huge smile, “no, actually I forgot about the pizza. Thanks for reminding me.”

Donghae groans and swats away the hand that tries to pinch his cheek.

*

It was a Sunday morning and despite our plans to visit the amusement park—

‘We made a commitment to consistently go out on dates. Married couples don’t go out on enough dates!’

‘Ah yes, but Hae, be quiet for now, hm?’

Despite our plans to visit the amusement park, we had to stay in because he suddenly came down with a fever. It wasn’t anything too serious, just a case of cough and cold, but Donghae has tendencies to whine like a puppy when he’s sick and I spent my day attending to my oversized baby’s every need.

By the time I managed to get him warm and snug under his blankets, it was early in the evening and my stomach was grumbling as loud as Donghae was snoring into his pillow. So I scribbled a note for him, left it on the nightstand, grabbed my coat and made my way to the pizza place not too far from our apartment.

I didn’t see anything wrong with it—his fever had gone down considerably, our fridge was empty and I was really hungry.

And pizza sounded really, really good at the time.

It was by mere coincidence that I bumped into a few friends at the restaurant and decided to catch up with them while waiting for the take-home pizza I bought for Donghae to finish heating up. I took longer than I’d originally planned but it wasn’t anything dramatically extensive.

So there I was, bounding up the stairs with my husband’s favorite pizza flavor warm in its box and a huge excited grin on my face when I open the door to disaster.

Nothing could have prepared me for—

*

“Context!” Donghae wailed, clearly embarrassed. “I need to give them some context!”

Hyukjae raised