The apartment is unbearably hot when Taekwoon steps in. He loosens his tie automatically as he sets his work bag down by the shoe rack, toeing off his shoes and setting them aside. The floorboards creak as he walks further inside, eyebrows pinched together a fraction.

It’s silent, almost unbearably so, and Taekwoon feels something icy and cold curl around his heart. He ignores the rising panic and walks swiftly to his bedroom, knocking gently on the door.

“Hakyeon?” he asks.

There more silence, and then the almost imperceptible sound of the sheets rustling. He can hear the bed creaking, and then the sound of approaching footsteps. He waits outside patiently; panic diminishing into a warm breath of relief, and listens as Hakyeon twists the door knob.

His husband scarcely glances at him before he retreats back to the bed, throwing the thin blanket over himself and curling up. Taekwoon finds that panicked feeling returning when he takes in the other man’s strange behavior.

He moves over to Hakyeon’s side of the bed and sits down, reaching forward to brush his fingertips against the strands of hair that had fallen into his husband’s eyes. Hakyeon flinches as the touch and buries his head into the pillow, shoulders tense and body rigid.

Taekwoon swallows thickly and moves his hand back to his side slowly, watching as Hakyeon gradually relaxes after the retraction.

“Hakyeon?” he tries again, voice soft and level, and Hakyeon moves his head slightly. “What’s wrong?”

Hakyeon rolls onto his back suddenly then, eyes focused on the ceiling. Now that Taekwoon can properly look at him, he takes in the puffy bags under his eyes and the dried tear tracks. Something tugs at his heart painfully and he resists the urge to touch Hakyeon.

Hakyeon mumbles something, too soft for Taekwoon to hear, and he finds himself nervous all over again.

“Can you repeat that?” he asks, despite the sinking feeling in his gut.

Hakyeon sets an unfocused, glassy gaze on him.

“I lost the baby,” he says, tone bitter and face set hard in a grimace, and Taekwoon feels his whole world crashing down.

They don’t talk about it, not at first.

Hakyeon goes through life just to survive, not doing much more than cooking and cleaning and making sure Taekwoon’s alright. Taekwoon feels like it should be the other way around, but Hakyeon doesn’t stop ironing his shirts or making him his morning cup of coffee.

They’re sitting in the kitchen now, Taekwoon stirring his coffee and Hakyeon mechanically packing him lunch. Taekwoon mulls over his words, decides what he wants to say, and gets his husband’s attention by softly clearing his throat.

“What happened?” he asks, tone unsure, and Hakyeon stills for no more than half a second.

“What happened with what?” he asks, clearly dodging, and Taekwoon’s grip goes tight around his spoon.

“With…with the baby.”

Hakyeon does stop then, holding onto the edge of the counter until his knuckles go white.

“I just lost it,” he says, bitterly. “I was having