I stood at the edge of the bed in front of me, staring down with much dismay as I held the steaming cup of coffee to my lips and took, yet another, sip. The digital clock on the nightstand changed from seven fifty-nine to exactly eight and finally, I cleared my throat loudly, loud enough to startle one of the persons sleeping comfortably, and to cause the slightly bigger one to stir and cover his face with a pillow while letting out a whine.

   Wooyoung peered up at me with a sleepy gaze before looking at my sleeping brother next to him and his eyes widened before he groaned. “I swear it’s not what you’re thinking.”

   My eyes narrowed. “So you’re a mind reader, now?”

   He sat up with a roll of his eyes, attempting to say something that turned into a mumbled mess of words when he yawned, and then reached over to the sleeping boy beside him, pulling the pillow away to reveal Chansung’s peaceful face. I watched him brush the hair away from my baby brother’s face with a delicate touch and gripped the cup of hot liquid in my hand tighter, huffing out an angry sigh.

   “Get him ready for school. Now.” I added the last part with a growl and left the room before my blood could start to boil with white knuckle rage.

   When I awoke this morning, after finding Chansung’s room empty, I felt an immediate inclination that I would find him hiding in Wooyoung’s room. And of course, when I found them snuggled together, sleeping face to face and holding each other so close their lips were almost touching with such satisfaction on both of their faces, it stirred a few feelings inside of me that I wasn’t quite ready for.

   Mostly anger. A little bit of disgust. And let’s not forget about that adrenaline pumping fury that I had managed to quell quite successfully, until now.

   Junho looked up from the cereal he was eating the second I stormed into the kitchen and set my cup on the counter before I could break it. His small eyes were still a little puffy from sleep, but he looked at me with a questioning gaze as he took a moment to build up the courage to ask. “You okay?”

   “I’m perfect!” Sarcasm had its way with my mouth. “I just love seeing Wooyoung hugging up on my baby brother like some ing ert . . .”

   “Taecyeon,” Just the way he said my name calmed me, but only a little. “You know Chansung’s twenty-two, right?” Even though the question was rhetorical, it pissed me off even more and I threw my hands up, about to walk out of the room because now was seriously not the time. But Junho, again, calmed me. “Don’t be like that, it’s not flattering!”

   Sighing, my shoulders slumped and I looked back at him with a distraught frown. “How am I supposed to feel, then?”

   Junho stood from the kitchen table and walked to me, hugging my arm like a clingy child until I returned the embrace. “Why not try being happy for them?” He peered up at me with a small smile that I couldn’t resist. “Chansung’s finally found a companion, someone who doesn’t see him as a person with a mental disability . . . someone who needs him just as much as Chansung needs them. And I know you’re scared, because you think that life will be too difficult – and I won’t say that it’s not going to be hard, because it will be, but . . . It’s easier to get through the rough times when you have someone who sees you as an equal, rather than just a baby brother. Think about Chansung’s wishes, because he’s not a child, even if he speaks like one.”

   I cupped Junho’s cheek after he was finished speaking, watching those earnest eyes that stared into me and fixed the disarrayed thoughts in my head with some simple words. He righted my wrongs without even trying, and held onto me dearly while doing it. It was easy to see that he was right in his advice. It was easy to know that, however appalling the thought of it was, Wooyoung might be good for my brother, and vice versa.

   If only applying knowledge was as easy as retaining it.

   A part of me, however small it was, wondered if it was truly my brother or I, that was the helpless one. Yes, Chansung needed both my income and my emotional support, but those could be found elsewhere. On the other hand, Chansung gave me something irreplaceable, and that was what I was afraid of losing; he was the last shred of my parents that I had left to hold on to.

   “You’re right.” I finally put aside my desires and admitted. “I’m just being scared and paranoid.”

   “You don’t have to be.” He sealed his words with a kiss on the lips, as if to tell me ‘I’m right here, don’t worry’.

*

“Hyung, are we married?”

   I nearly spat the iced tea I was attempting to drink when Chansung had suddenly run into the kitchen one Sunday afternoon. I blinked at the sight of him standing before me, his ears were slightly red, the perfect match to his cheeks, and he refused to look directly at my face, instead he kept averting his eyes every time he looked at me. Part of me wondered if I was hearing things correctly, so I just stared back in disbelief. “I’m sorry, what?”

   “Kids at school said that when you like someone, you sleep in the same bed and eat food together and then do fun things when no one’s around, and that’s what being married is . . . And I do that stuffs with you so that means we’re married, right?” His two doe eyes glanced at me when I didn’t answer right away and I watched as he started fidgeting.

   “Um . . . no.” I said without thinking, seeing his face sink sadly and then backtracking to try and rephrase myself. “I mean, that’s not what being married is, Channie. It’s a lot more complicated than that . . .” I started to explain, though it was still a little nerve wrecking to have to say this aloud. “Two boys can’t get married anyway, at least not here in Seoul.”

   I watched the giant kid tilt his head to the side and already knew the next question he’d ask. “Why?”

   “Actually,” I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to figure out how to say it, though I eventually gave up and just said the truth. “It’s because a lot of people aren’t comfortable with the idea of two men or two women being in romantic relationships.”

   Chansung blinked for a moment, but then his face smoothed into a soft smile, as he slowly understood. “If we say you’re da girl then we could be married!”

   “No Channie, it doesn’t work like– Wait! Why do I have to be the girl?!” I cut myself off when I realized the implication of his statement, my cheeks turning several shades redder than they already are, though Chansung just placed his large hands on my cheeks and gave me a huge smile that melted my riled heart.

   “Because small hyung’s prettier and shorter, so that makes hyung a girl . . .” He spoke as if it were common sense, and I couldn’t even argue with him, I merely brushed his hands from my cheeks as he squished them together and looked away.

   “W-Well . . . you can’t marry me.” Why would anyone ever want to marry someone like me anway? Obviously, he didn’t know how broken I was. How could he know? I mean, I would never think that Chansung was stupid, but was it even legal for someone like him to get married? And it’s not that I thought about him in that way either . . . did I?

   I didn’t have much time to think this over in my head before Chansung lowered his head so that his face was in the direct line of my gaze. “Hyung,” He said seriously, and I could see in his eyes that he was thinking over his words carefully. He had that determination that slipped through every now and then, when something was really important to him. “If I get smart . . . will you marry me?”

   My eyes widened at the same time that my heart fluttered against my chest, and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t calm my jittery nerves. “Yah . . . Y-You haven’t even finished school.”

   He looked down for a moment, his nervousness taking over as he struggled to figure out his words, and in the end he just reached for my hands, our fingers tangling together gently as he looked me in the eyes. “Then when I’m done with school, we’ll get married.”

   For the first time, I noticed that he was acknowledging his disability and, more than that, he was vowing to conquer it. His hopeful gaze brought a sense of invincibility, and I nodded without question, staring up at the younger boy before me and realizing exactly how much of a man he was capable of being. Chansung’s smile was faint as he caressed my cheeks with his thumbs and slowly his face fell into a worried expression as he rubbed gently under my eyes. “Why you cry, hyung?” He rubbed away tears that I hadn’t even realized had fallen, drying my cheeks for me with such delicacy and tenderness.

   My lips parted, but only a shaky gasp for air came out as I breathed for the first time since he’d been touching me yet his hands didn’t stop comforting me, and that scared me profusely. As much as I wanted to push him away from me, to yell at him to stay back or he might get hurt, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t turn away from the loving gaze he showed only to me, and so I gave in, and allowed myself to be held by him, though I knew it was wrong.

   I knew I didn’t deserve him my cheeks gently while looking so deeply into my eyes, seeing into my soul and leaning dangerously close; close enough that I felt him breathing against my lips and I knew that if only I jutted my chin forward, we would kiss.

   My eyes fluttered close and then I was pushed away abruptly, realizing why the moment I looked up to see the figure standing in the doorway, staring at us with what I imagined to be pure rage. “Hyung!” Chansung said to Taecyeon, and I couldn’t help but hide behind Chansung’s shoulder slightly, trying to get as far away from the elder brother as I possibly could.

   “Chansung, I need to talk to Wooyoung.” Taec’s tone was crass and bitter, but Chansung didn’t budge, and only pushed me behind him more. The elder of the brother’s simply took a deep breath, reaching up to rest his face in the palm of his hand with a frustrated sigh. “Chansung, please . . . just go to your room or something, I just need to speak with Wooyoung.”

   Chansung relaxed a little, looking back at me and I nodded for him to listen. “I’m not a baby.” He said, and I couldn’t tell if he was speaking just to Taec, or to us both. “I don’t know lots of stuffs, but I know what love is . . . I know that it’s real.” The youngest of us said quietly, leaving both Taecyeon and I staring at each other once he left the room and disappeared down the hallway.

   It wasn’t until we heard the sound of Chansung’s bedroom door closing that Taecyeon finally moved, walking over to the counter and pulling out a few glasses from the cabinet. I watched him carefully reach onto the top shelf of the pantry and pull down a bottle of liquor, pouring two glasses and sliding one across the kitchen counter towards me as he downed the alcohol in his glass and immediately poured another.

   Three shots later, the taller man looked over at me and spoke regretfully. “I was nine when I lost my parents . . .” There was so much sadness in his voice, that I didn’t even feel intimidated by the way he furrowed his brow, or how he towered over me as he stepped closer. I couldn’t feel threatened, not with that look in his eyes. “We lived in an orphanage for four years after that, until they tried to separate us, that’s when I ran away with Chansung and we’ve been on our own since then.” Taecyeon paused for a moment, and part of me wondered what memories he was currently reliving. “I’ve done a lot of that I’m not proud of, so that he could have a good life . . . So don’t that up, okay?” He laid a hand on my shoulder. “Teach him things that I can’t . . . help him grow up, and . . . let him help you, too.”

   I probably shouldn’t have been smiling, but I was, as I watched the flustered look on Taecyeon’s face dissipate into determination, and then soon, acceptance. “I never thought I’d see the day when Ok Taecyeon would give me his blessing.”

   The giant’s eyes narrowed and I could see the cringe he was trying to hold back. “I’m not giving you my blessing,” He grumbled like a pouting child. “I’m just . . . agreeing to not kill you if, for some reason, my brother decides to actually fall in love with you.”

   “No matter what?” I decided to push him, just a little.

   It paid off when he glared for a moment before recovering his face and forcing a calmness that just resonated annoyance. “I swear, if you touch my little brother in my house.”

   “Oh please!” I scoffed at the idea, however, my cheeks did turn a few shades redder. “You make me sound like a ert.”

   “Considering how I’ve seen you dance . . .” He started off, deciding not to finish and just looked away. “Just, don’t do anything like that until he’s ready.”

   I nodded in understanding. Even though I wasn’t planning on developing that kind of relationship with Chansung, at least not yet, anyway. It would be a lie if I said I hadn’t thought about it. “What if he touches me first?”

   This time, Taecyeon simply pinched the bridge of his nose and I laughed out loud.

   “Junho set you up to this, didn’t he?” My smirk turned into a full blown grin when he nodded and I crossed my arms in amusement. “Damn Taec, he got you whipped already? You’ve only been dating a few weeks.”

   Taecyeon stormed away, growling quietly under his breath. “ off.”