Hyukjae was light-headed. The tuxedo jacket, which had fitted impeccably, now felt constricting. What if he fainted right here at the altar of Seoul Anglican Cathedral?

A media throng gathered in front of the imposing church; inside, it was filled with only the elite members of society. At the opposite end of the aisle, the CEO and president of South Korea Exchange Bank and his wife waited to walk their daughter so she could marry the most perfect man in the country. The most caring, the kindest, the gentlest….  At this exact moment, the most confused man in South Korea.

The last flower girl took her seat. A change in music denoted the start of the bridal procession. The cathedral doors opened, filtering in light from the outside.

I can’t breathe, Hyukjae thought.

All eyes were on the beguiling bride and her parents making their way down the aisle. Leaving scruples behind, without asking himself how he could do this---this inconceivably selfish, ungrateful act---Hyukjae willed his legs to walk towards them.

***

He took her hand in his. “I need to speak with you,” his voice was thick and almost imperceptible as though coming from a distant place.

Her parents’ bodies go rigid. Under her veil, she saw Hyukjae’s distraught eyes. She took a step closer to him and stood on her tippy toes, until her face juxtaposed with his.

The cathedral clock ticked on. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. It seemed as an eternity went by.

“Find yourself, Lee Hyukjae,” she whispered softly just for him to hear. She lifted her veil to touch her lips to his cold cheek.

Hyukjae nodded his head, squeezed her hand one last time.  One of the cathedral’s side doors was to his left. Run!

The commotion inside the church grew louder with each second; Hyukjae didn’t hear any of it. He furiously removed his jacket, tie and vest as he moved. I left her at the altar, his mind echoed.

After several false turns, he made his way to a narrow hallway where an emergency exit was located. The lock was rusty, possibly never been used. With a firm grip, he pulled the lever down.

The exit led to the rear of the cathedral. Surprisingly there were no photographers lurking in the area.  He ran swiftly until he reached the wrought iron fences enclosing the church compound. With adrenaline pumping throughout his body, Hyukjae scaled the 20-foot barricade in a matter of seconds.

The soles of his shoes scraped the pavement where he landed. He tossed his dress shirt in a nearby trash bin. He was now only clad in a white shirt and dress pants. Walking briskly, he soon joined the many pedestrians of Seoul. In the bustling streets of the capital city, where people practically shoved each other as they hurriedly go about their own ways, he could blend in as just another face. No, it was too risky. His family is here; his whole life revolved in Seoul.

He wasn’t as straightlaced as everyone perceived or wanted him to be. He was just a quiet man, who kept his thoughts to himself. Even though he didn’t speak often, everybody adored him. He was a great listener. Hyukjae made every person he crossed path with important. Sadly, no one bothered to listen to Hyukjae---really listen on the rare times that he did speak.  

He knew and felt for years that he was different. I am gay, he would tell himself as he brushed his teeth in front of the mirror each morning. Instead of panicking, he’d spit out the foam from his mouth, and then flashed the mirror an accepting albeit slightly rueful smile. I am gay.

Mulling about what he did at the cathedral made his throat close up. Thinking about the future, the possibilities of tomorrow….

I need to go farther.

***

Leaning against an old brick wall, Hyukjae closed his eyes. He roamed the city for seven hours, his legs now felt like lead. “Hurry up, son. The bus will leave us behind if you walk like a turtle!” A young mother was dragging a little boy to the bus stop just a few yards away. Hyukjae easily caught up with them. “Excuse me, Ma’am, where is the bus headed to?”

The boy reached his arms up to his mother, wanting to be picked up. The mother grunted; her back arched slightly as the child wrapped his chubby legs around her waist and his grubby hands held unto her neck. “Ah, Shindong, you’re getting too big for this.” She cooed to her son before turning to the tall stranger. “The bus is going to Mokpo.”

***

Shindong was humming the new song his teacher taught him at kindergarten school. It was a catchy tune that made the little boy focus on the masterpiece that he was creating. One more here and it’s done! The boy bounced back to where his mother was sitting. “Eomma, come look!”

“Yes, baby. I’m coming.” The mother followed her son to the front of the bus. She stopped dead on her tracks as she saw her son’s handiwork. “Shindong! What did you do?”

“I turned him into a cat. Teacher said I am good at drawing animals and that I should practice.” He certainly did turn Hyukjae into a cat with long dark whiskers running across both cheeks and whisker spots above the latter’s lips. The boy also gave the sleeping Hyukjae a pink heart-shaped nose. Using a blue marker, Shindong drew cat ears on the man’s forehead, and then filled them in with yellow.

“What kind of markers did you use, Shindong?” She asked sternly.

“The ones in the red box from my backpack.”

The permanent ones. Her problems just went from bad to worse.

“I love you, Eomma.” Shindong adorably said sensing that he was in trouble.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m afraid your aegyo will not work this time.”

***

“Mister, we are here.” Hyukjae opened one eye seeing the young mother he met a few hours ago hovering over him.

“Um, thank you for waking me up.” The mother continued to stare. “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked politely.

“Actually, I should be the one asking you that question.” She took out a hand mirror from her purse and held it in front of Hyukjae.

***

His face was raw from all the scrubbing. Yet he still looked like a cat.

“I see it didn’t work.” The mother commented as Hyukjae got out of the restroom. The little boy was hiding behind his mother’s legs. After being thoroughly reprimanded, it dawned on Shindong that he was in deep trouble for his art project.

“Come here, boy.” Shindong hesitantly went towards the man.

Hyukjae sat on his haunches so he was eye level with the scared child. “Before you draw on people, it is polite to ask their permission first, understand?” 

“Yes, sir,” Shindong nodded.

“Otherwise, you did a great job. Am I a house cat or a jungle cat?”

***

“Hani, what are you doing here?” Donghae was surprised to see his neighbor and dear friend at his door so late at night.

“Nice to see you, too, Donghae,” she teased.

“Where’s Shindong? I thought you took him with you to Seoul to buy new clothes.”

He gasped when he realized that there was a man with a cat’s face behind Hani holding a sleeping Shindong.

“You must be the teacher who encouraged Shindong to create living masterpieces.”

***

Hyukjae chewed on his sandwich methodically. He grabbed the glass of milk and took a sip. He could hear someone chuckling.

“I am so sorry. This is just way too funny.” Donghae leaned back against his chair and gazed at the feline face across the dining table---drinking milk. He suddenly stood up and sauntered into another room. He came back with a bag of cotton balls, a mirror and a bottle of baby oil. “You’re in luck. I thought I ran out of this.”  Donghae waggled the bottle.  “Trust me, it works. I’ve had my share of permanent marker fiascos with my students.”

After managing to remove most of Shindong’s artwork from his face, Hyukjae and the two other grown-ups talked for an hour. Hani and Donghae learned that Hyukjae was 31 years old and worked at the HR Department of a bank. “I got that job right after college. It was stable work; however, I’ve always felt that it was somewhat not the right fit for me,” Hyukjae said pensively.

“How long have you known each other?” Hyukjae asked, wanting to veer the conversation away from him.

The two friends looked at each other fondly. “Our fathers worked on the same boat for years. As you know, Mokpo is known for its fishing grounds. The sea has kept this small city afloat.” Hani explained with a soft smile. “We practically grew up together; I was responsible while he was always getting into mischief such as convincing a little girl to eat dog food.” She stuck her tongue out to the culprit.

Donghae’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment but still guffawed at the memory. “Yeah, I pulled a lot of pranks on people,” he admitted, “but they were not done with evil intentions. I just wanted people to have some fun once in a while.”

She rolled her eyes. “This is exactly why Shindong and ‘teacher’ Donghae here get along spectacularly. They are too playful for their own good.”

As Hyukjae listened to their stories and banters, a sudden pang of longing crept unto him. Although he had friends, he never quite established the same kind of bond that Hani and Donghae shared. Coming from a conservative upbringing and knowing that he was gay, Hyukjae instinctively had his guard up.

“Are you getting tired?” Donghae asked expectantly, his eyes slowly filling with concern behind his thick-framed eyeglasses.

“I guess I am.” Hyukjae admitted. The events of the day flashed in his mind. One side of his mouth started to lift up. “This has been an unusual day for me,” his smile broadened from ear to ear and his gaze involuntarily fell on Donghae, “yet I wouldn’t trade it for any other.”

After settling that Hyukjae spend the night at Donghae’s cottage, Hani, with a sleepy Shindong in tow, walked to her own little bungalow next door.

Donghae pushed the living room table to the side and unrolled a sleeping bag in the middle of his living room. “My sofa, as you can see, is just too small for you. I hope you don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

“This is more than fine, Donghae-ssi.” Hyukjae gave a small bow.

“Don’t be too formal, Hyukjae. I apologize again for what Shindong did. He can be quite a handful for Hani especially since his father is out to sea for three weeks.” He laid some pillows on top of the sleeping bag. “I noticed you didn’t bring any luggage with you….” His expression was slightly questioning.

Hyukjae felt a knot in his stomach. “They were stolen in Seoul. I had few belongings to begin with, so it doesn’t matter.”

“I meant you don’t have any clothes to change into for the night.”

“Oh.”

Donghae came out of his room and handed Hyukjae a shirt and a pair of sweat pants. “These will have to do for now. The bathroom is the second door on your right; you can change there.  If you want to take a shower, there are some clean towels under the vanity.”

***

The bathroom was small yet inviting. The bright yellow walls complimented the white tiled wainscoting. A large, deep soaking bathtub sat at the back of the room. Next to it was a small distressed table with a stack of books. Above the toilet, there was a mounted frame of two star fish: one dark blue, one bright orange.  

Hyukjae shed off his clothes and stepped into the tub. He the showerhead and was surprised at the strong water pressure. His muscles craved the warm flow. He washed himself thoroughly and rinsed off. Drying off quickly, he donned on Donghae’s clothes. Hyukjae grinned seeing that the pants barely covered his ankles. The shirt hinted of detergent and something else...something tempting and distinctly male.

Hyukjae brought the fabric closer to his face, taking in the lingering scent of the teacher.  No doubt he was attracted to Donghae.

Stop it, Hyukjae berated himself. This is definitely not the time to think about a man this way, especially someone who opened up his home to a complete stranger. You’ve already lied to him once. Don’t be a total bastard.

***

There were papers and notebooks scattered on the dining table. A small desk lamp allowed Donghae to clearly read his young students’ writing homework. Some words were easily comprehensible, some looked like nonsensical doodles.

In the small seaside town of Mokpo, he was known to the local parents as the goofy and imaginative Teacher Donghae. The same teacher who was spotted, more than once, dressed as a giant fish as he animatedly explained about life under the sea.

Under the fun exterior, he actually took his career very seriously.  As a teacher to young kids, he was faced daily with two challenges: first, to catch and hold the attention of his young students, and second, to bring about each child’s potential.

He loved his job. He enjoyed decoding the doodles. If only he could focus all his attention to checking papers, not on the man getting out from the bathroom. Am I ready for this? He asked himself.

“Can I sit here or am I disturbing you? I suddenly don’t feel tired anymore.” Hyukjae said.

“Yes. I mean yes, you can sit here by all means.” Donghae smiled. “Don’t mind me. I’m good at multitasking; we can still talk if you want while I work.”  

 If they could freeze a point in time, this would be it. Sharing, laughing, stealing glances at each other…this was probably the moment someone fell in love. 

***

“Do you think he’s okay? He left with nothing.” Ryeowook asked the man seated next to him in the car.

Keeping his eyes on the road, Yesung replied, “I’m sure he is. Hyukjae can fend for himself.” You better be safe, you son of a .  

***

Three weeks later

“It’s so good to feel you in my arms again.” Heechul hugged Hani tightly. He lifted his wife until their lips met for one sweet kiss. They were standing at the harbor after Heechul and the other fishermen finished unloading their catch.  “As much as I appreciate the pay, sometimes I feel that I’m missing out on important moments in our lives when I’m on the boat for weeks.” His gaze went to Shindong who was preoccupied throwing stones in the water.

Hani squeezed her husband’s hand, “When you are away, he knows it’s because you love our family. Once Shindong is old enough to be left home alone, I can go back to work at the music school and you can find a job that will keep your feet on land.” She linked her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder. “Who would have thought that the once notorious playboy is now a doting father and husband?” she teased.

He let out his signature snort. “What can I say? I enjoyed the field when I was younger. How you managed to catch me is the real mystery here. I’m pretty sure you cast a love spell on me.” Hani laughed and punched his arm hard. “Ow! That was uncalled for. Stop playing the viola so much, wife; your arms seem stronger than mine now.”

She kissed him again. He responded and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Heechul, your mouth…I like it better when it’s kissing and not talking.”

He swatted her bum lightly.

***

“Donghae! Open this door!” Heechul banged loudly. It was Hyukjae who answered the door.

 “Who the hell are you?”

“Heechul!” Hani covered her son’s ears.” Shindong can hear you.”

“He’s a friend, Heechul,” Donghae answered from the living room.

“I’m Hyukjae. You must be Hani’s husband,” he bowed his head to the older man. Heechul was wary and wanted more answers. “Are you living here or just visiting?” he asked bluntly.

Hani ushered her son inside the house. “I’ll explain more about this when we reach home. Please forgive my husband’s brassiness, Hyukjae. You’ll eventually get to use to it.  In the meantime, Donghae, the reason we are here is can you babysit for a couple of hours today? Heechul and I have some, um, matters to attend to.”

“Oh? Such as…?”

She turned bright red; her eyes shot daggers toward her best friend. Donghae just chuckled. He liked giving Hani a hard time.

“Three weeks, Donghae! Obviously we want to have .” Heechul whispered the last word so his son couldn’t hear it.

Hyukjae was grinning. “If Donghae will not do it, I can watch Shindong for you.”

“I’m beginning to like you, new guy.” Heechul said. “Shindong, you’re going to stay with Uncle Hyukjae here for a bit, okay? Will you be a good boy?”

“Of course, I will, Appa. I’m always good, aren’t I, Teacher Donghae?”

“You sure are. You take after me, after all.” He ruffled the child’s hair. He then stuck his tongue out to the other man.

Heechul rolled his eyes. “That’s very mature, Donghae.” Hani kissed her son’s forehead before being dragged out of the cottage by her impatient husband.

***

Shindong was sleeping soundly, one hand clutching the blanket. The three of them spent the afternoon tending to the small vegetable garden at the back of the house.

It was getting late; the blue sky is slowly turning to a rich amber. Donghae was admiring this view from the kitchen window as he washed the newly harvested plump tomatoes.

“I got my first pay check yesterday from the brewery,” Hyukjae took a white envelope from his pocket. “I want to give my share for the household expenses.”

Donghae shook his head. “Don’t worry about this. Keep what you earn for now.” He placed the tomatoes on the kitchen isle and started cutting. “Besides, you don’t eat that much and you’re awesome at tidying up the place and doing laundry,” he said, mischief evident in his eyes.

“So I get to stay because I’m a great housekeeper?”

“Take it however you want. A compliment is a compliment.” Donghae shoved a giant piece of tomato into his mouth. Hyukjae laughed as a stream of juice dribbled down the other man’s chin and shirt. “y.” He chided handing over some paper towel.

“Yup, I definitely am,” Donghae jokingly admitted while dabbing at his shirt and mouth. “Did I get it all?”

Hyukjae didn’t answer. He stood up and walked toward the kindergarten teacher. He made Donghae face him.

 “Can I kiss you?” he asked softly while cupping the back of Donghae’s head. Their lips met halfway. Weeks of pent-up attraction culminated in this little kitchen. They kissed sweetly and gently.  Donghae moaned when he felt the taller man’s tongue sweep past his lips.  They spent a preposterous amount of time exploring each other’s mouths. Soon they were grinding against each other.

Hyukjae was in awe of what was happening. Not only was he making out with his first man, he was experiencing it with Donghae. His Donghae. He was operating on instincts---on what felt good. He was eager and hungry. A growl escaped from his throat as he ran his hands under Donghae’s shirt, feeling hot warm skin over taut muscles.

 “We have to stop,” Donghae barely managed to say through his passion-clouded haze. Hyukjae was too far gone. He had no idea what he was doing yet he wanted to do more. He started to lift the other man’s shirt.

“Please, stop. Shindong is still in the house.” Donghae said quietly.

Reeling with desire, Hyukjae took a shaky breath and complied. He traced the other man’s blood-engorged lips with his thumb. “What am I going to do with you?”

Donghae kissed Hyukjae’s palm. “Be patient. We’ll get there.”