c h a p t e r  t h i r t e e n ; 

Saturdays in Mokpo were very different from what they were like in Seoul. In Seoul, Sundays were just like any other day; the hustle and bustle of city life was still very much alive, making itself known through the continuous cacophony of vehicles moving down the streets, clacking and slapping of heels and shoes boots and slippers against the concrete pavement, voices from businessmen and women on phones—yes, even on Saturdays, children playing on the streets, joggers, newspaper boys, sellers heckling at tourists… the list could go on forever. Life never seemed to slow down in Seoul, not even on the weekends. In Mokpo, however, the sun always seemed to shine brighter, lighting the city up and blessing the people with its warmth, especially with winter on its way. Life in Mokpo, in comparison to Seoul, was akin to the gentle water cascading down a stream—calm, smooth-flowing… crystal clear.

The house was quiet. Hyukjae and Donghae sat down next to each other on the maroon-coloured soft leather squeaking under them as the squirmed and shifted uncomfortably. They watched silently as Mrs Lee brought out a plate with a little vanilla sponge cake on it, setting it on the coffee table.

As Mrs Lee sliced the cake, Donghae and Hyukjae stole glances at each other, biting their lips. They both had their hands clasped together on their laps, awkward and unmoving.

“Y’know, we’ve thought a lot about the two of you,” Mrs Lee said blankly as she placed a slice of cake on a small plate, handing it to Hyukjae with a fork. “I put strawberry slices in the cream by the way, Hyukjae, just for you.”

“Thank you, eo-eomma…” Hyukjae replied uneasily. “What have you… what have both of you been thinking about?”
“Well,” Mr Lee said suddenly from the far end of the room, sat at the dining table with a newspaper in front of his face. “Both of you seem very close.”

Donghae quirked a brow, frowning as his mother handed him his own plate of cake. “We’ve always been close, appa. You raised us together.”

“Yes, but you seem a lot closer now, Donghae. We’ve noticed it ever since…”

“The accident,” Mrs Lee finished. “Both of you have become so much closer ever since the accident. We’re starting to find it odd.”

Hyukjae lowered his plate, swallowing his first bite of cake. “But what do you mean? I take care of Hae, eomma, and we grew up together. Why wouldn’t we be close?”

Donghae his chapped lips and bowed his head, catching a glimpse of how the blond’s hands were beginning to shake. He refused to look up, knowing that meeting Hyukjae eye-to-eye would make him a lot more antsy than he already was. Fingers crossed. He prayed the blond wouldn’t concede to a panic attack, because that would be an utter disaster. His parents had never seen Hyukjae in such a state, and if they were to witness it now, Donghae would be forced to shed light on the truth; that Hyukjae was gay, just like him, and that Mr and Mrs Lee’s sons were an item. The weight of it all would break Hyukjae, regardless how Mr and Mrs Lee would receive the news. That, he knew.

“Yeah, eomma. I don’t find it odd. We’ve always been really close,” Donghae said, backing Hyukjae up. “You’re overthinking.”

Mr Lee flapped his newspaper and lowered it slightly, looking at the pair on the sofa through his glasses with his nose pointed towards the floor. “I don’t think so. We’ve seen all the framed pictures of both of you hanging all over the walls, standing on the television console, on your dressers… it’s worrying.”

“Why is it worrying? There’s nothing wrong with that! It’s our home!” Donghae fired back a little too defensively.

Mrs Lee cut herself a slice of sponge cake. “It’s been your home since you were nineteen, Donghae. I think it’s time to change things. I think it’s good for the two of you to part.”

“Why?”

“Hyukjae has work, and we can’t expect your friends to keep coming over to look after you. It’s not nice, Donghae. And besides, the two of you…”

Hyukjae dug his fingers into the leather sofa. “Please, eomma, don’t separate us!” His breathing quickened, eyes widening with every word he spilled. “I don’t want to be separated! I can’t! Please don’t!”

“Hyukjae, listen to our reasons—”

“I don’t want to leave Hae, eomma!”

Donghae held his breath, fingers crawling towards Hyukjae to hold his hand. He intertwined their fingers, caressing his hand with his thumb soothingly. “Let’s listen to eomma’s explanation, Hyukkie. Let’s not jump to any conclusions. Slow your breathing, alright?”

Hyukjae darted his eyes frantically, struggling to regain control of his breathing. He squeezed Donghae’s hand, swallowing multiple times with his eyes closed. Donghae trailed his eyes over their hands, fighting the urge to tug the blond towards him, to cage him in a tight embrace. He’d have to wait until later for that. With eyes fixated on their trembling hands, Donghae barely realised the way their parents were running them over with their intense gazes, scrutinising the little skin-on-skin contact they put on display.

“See? You’re always holding hands with each other… acting like a couple,” Mrs Lee said, nodding towards the pair with little to no desire to even attempt concealing the worry in her eyes. “We’re concerned about your love lives.”

Nervousness began to corrode Donghae’s insides. He gripped Hyukjae’s hand tighter.

“What about our love lives, eomma?”

“We think it’s best you come live here, Donghae. Living together isn’t good for your love lives.”

“What do you mean? Our love lives are perfectly fine! That just… that doesn’t make sense!”

“With your pictures all over the place? How will you bring your partners over when the two of you are glued to each other all the time?” Mrs Lee argued. “You’re twenty-nine, Hyukjae.  Don’t you want to settle down? If Donghae moves back here, we can take care of him. Then you can get yourself a girlfriend comfortably, unless… you already have one. Do you?”

Donghae turned to stare Hyukjae, gnawing on his lip as he watched the blond blink nervously at his lap. “About girlfriends, eomma, Hyukjae—”

“I don’t have one!” Hyukjae blurted out, shaking his head at Donghae, flustered. “I don’t.”

Mrs Lee sighed. “See? Point proven. Who would want to come over to pictures of two close friends hugging and kissing plastered all over the walls, anyway? We’ve thought about it and we really think it’s best you live alone, Hyukjae. Or… we were thinking.. Maybe we could introduce you to Areum.”

Donghae choked, thoroughly incredulous. “What?” He thumped his fist against his chest, the creases on his forehead deepening with every passing second. Surprise surprise, guess who’s the jealous one now?

“Areum’s perfect for Hyukjae, Donghae. Besides she’s back and might be moving to Seoul, and… y’know… me being the nosy person I am, I asked if she’s been dating anyone. She said she isn’t seeing anyone, so it’s perfect! We asked if she’s free next Saturday and she said yes, so…”

“I’ll do it,” Hyukjae surrendered. “Just set us up. I’ll meet her.”

“But Hyukjae—” Donghae panicked, squeezing his hand. He held his tongue, staring at his boyfriend with wide eyes, both fearful and begging.

Hyukjae shot him a look. “It’s okay, Hae. It’s for the best.”

Mrs Lee smiled. “That’s great, Hyukjae. I’ll let her know. It’ll be so lovely if you get along with Donghae’s childhood sweetheart. I’m sure Donghae would agree. Wouldn’t you, Donghae?”

Everyone turned to face Donghae, observing as the tension in his every muscle began to seep out his skin. His grip on Hyukjae’s hand, alongside his posture, slackened as a look of dejection bloomed.

“Yeah, amazing. I don’t really feel like eating, eomma. I’m gonna unpack.”

Donghae backed away releasing Hyukjae’s hand. He picked up his crutches and made his way to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Silence.

“Why is he throwing a tantrum?” Mr Lee asked from behind the newspaper, barely looking up. Hyukjae blinked his eyes profusely, tapping his fingers against the armrest anxiously as his mind went into hysterics, trying hard to conjure some sort of stupid excuse for his boyfriend’s behaviour. He realised he didn’t really have to.

“Oh, y’know… typical Donghae, appa. I’ll go check on him.”

“Why did you agree to it?” Donghae asked that night as he watched Hyukjae pace all around the room, placing clothes in the closet, miscellaneous items on the study table, scented candles, an air purifier… He unearthed a lighter, lighting up an ocean scented candle to calm his boyfriend down. Donghae had been quiet all afternoon, initially refusing to talk to the blond since the conversation with Mr and Mrs Lee, but Hyukjae had persisted and evidently, he’d won. It didn’t matter that it took the entire duration of the sun to sink and moon to rise for Donghae to finally open up again.

“I just… eomma and appa seem hellbent on the idea, so I’ll just play along for as long as I can,” Hyukjae reasoned, turning the light off. He slid under the covers, wrapping his arm around Donghae’s waist. “I’ll tell them eventually, Hae. I just need time. I’m scared.”

Donghae his lips, gazing into Hyukjae’s eyes. They were glistening in the moonlight, as if he was about to cry. “There’s no need to be scared, baby. I’m right here with you.”

“I know, but remember how I said I was afraid they wouldn’t accept me dating you? I don’t want them to tear us apart. I really don’t. I don’t wanna lose you.”

“I don’t wanna lose you either, Hyukkie.” Donghae trailed his fingers up Hyukjae’s chest, settling them in his blond hair. He caressed his scalp, moving forward to kiss Hyukjae’s cold, buttony nose. “And I won’t. It won’t happen, okay? It won’t.”

Hyukjae exhaled shakily. “How do you know, Hae…”

“I won’t let it happen,” Donghae said firmly, kissing Hyukjae’s cheek. “Through thick and thin, remember? This is nothing. We won’t part, I promise.” He nudged the blond’s nose with his own. “I don’t want you to worry about this. We’re here to spend time with our family, sweetheart.”

Hyukjae blinked, momentarily swept off his feet by the term of endearment, a first in their twenty-two years of friendship-or-whatever-the-hell-it-is. “Sweetheart,” he echoed, smiling faintly. “I like that.” He pecked his boyfriend’s cheek, lingering.

“Then I’ll call you that more often,” Donghae said softly, breathing against Hyukjae’s lips. “I love you. I love you so much.” He moved even closer, kissing Hyukjae tenderly. A soft, innocent kiss pouring love from one heart to another. That was all it was meant to be… for now. Hyukjae kissed back just as eagerly, reaching under Donghae’s shirt to rub his back in circles.

“I love you too, Hae.” Hyukjae connected their lips again, placing his hand on  Donghae’s firm chest.

Donghae trailed his fingers around Hyukjae’s body, slipping them past the waistband of his shorts to squeeze his with a cheeky grin working its way through the muscles of his face. Hyukjae frowned.

“Please don’t tell me you’re ,” he mumbled. “Please don’t tell me you’re .”

“I just—I’m not, but I really wanna kiss you.”

“You just did!”

“Not like that,” Donghae whispered. He pulled Hyukjae closer, pressing their bodies together.

“You really love kissing me, huh.” Hyukjae laughed, frowning in mock disapproval a split-second later. “We can’t even go an hour without kissing.”

Donghae his boyfriend’s bottom lip, shrugging with his eyes fixated on Hyukjae’s mouth. “Not my fault you have such kissable lips, Lee Hyukjae.”

“That’s so cringey, good god.”

“It’s true! I’m not exaggerating! I swear, Lee—”

Interrupted by Hyukjae’s impatience, Donghae cut his words short, watching as Hyukjae tilted his head to Donghae’s lips open.

“Stop talking, Hae.” Hyukjae said huskily, and without hesitating even for a second, shoved his tongue into Donghae’s mouth like it was the only solution to a life-or-death situation. His hands roamed up and down the latter’s body, ghosting over Donghae’s abs and back up, brushing over a . He smirked, repeating his actions as their wet lips slid sensuously against each other, lewd smacks and moans and groans resounding. Donghae shifted, raking his nails up Hyukjae’s back as he on the man’s bottom lip.

“God, if you keep this up, I’ll make sure we .” Donghae groaned as Hyukjae pulled his shirt up.

“In your parents’ house?” Hyukjae asked raspily, whimpering slightly as Donghae kneaded his , playfully brushing his finger across the space in between his cheeks. Hyukjae shivered.

“My parents’ house, at a park, on an office desk, the ocean… wait no not the ocean, I can’t swim as well anymore.. but anyway yeah, I’d have you all ways anywhere, parents’ house included. Try me.”

“You’re disgust—” Hyukjae’s breath hitched as he felt Donghae’s finger sweep against his crack repeatedly, slowly, very slowly. He closed his eyes, deepening his breathing before opening them again. “You’re gross. Stop it. We’re not ing in your parents’ house. Or at all.”

“Aw why not!” Donghae whined, retracting his hand as his lips gathered to form that revoltingly cute pout Hyukjae had come to adore (despite wanting to sew it shut in the first decade of their friendship) (that also happens to be very inappropriate—who the pouts talking about ? Only Lee Donghae, that’s for sure). “Twenty-two years! Twenty-two years dry! Twenty-seven years a ! How much longer?! I’ve finally found the person I want to share my peepee with and he won’t allow me to—”

Muffling the man-child’s voice with his fingers wrapped around his mouth, Hyukjae clicked his tongue. “Be quiet! Eomma and appa will hear you, you dip! God! Also, for the record, I’m not having with a man who refers to his glorious as a peepee on the topic of deflowering. Plus, there’s no way we’re having .”

Donghae wriggled, shrugging free of Hyukjae’s hold. “And why not? We’ve been together for two years, we love each other, we’ve each other’s , I’m , you’re … I don’t see what the problem is!”

“The problem,” Hyukjae began, sighing as he ran his fingers through Donghae’s hair, “is that, well, for starters, we’ve never tried it, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself. You know I’ve been holding us back because I don’t want you to hurt yourself… consideringthatyouwanttotop. And I’m not .”

Donghae scoffed. “That’s not what the tent in your pyjama pants says. And anyway, at some point we’ll have to try, so why not now? I’m not a kid, y’know, or made of glass. I won’t break!”

“Sure, Mr Peepee, you aren’t a kid. Still, I just… okay fine, I… I love you, and I want us to make love, but just… not here. If we’re going to try, we’re going to take it slow so we’re both comfortable, where we don’t need to worry about being walked in on. Soon, alright baby?” Hyukjae negotiated, giving Donghae his best pleading look. Donghae sulked, glaring into the eyes of the only man that can wipe away his petty thoughts and desires in a matter of seconds, leaving him a near blank slate. He nuzzled their noses and sighed.

“My balls are going to explode,” Donghae grumbled, sniffing every inch of the blond’s cheek. “I haven’t touched myself in three days and it looks like I might not be able to for the next what, three months? Three months, holy !”

The pure look of anguish on his boyfriend’s face set free a hoard of giggles that had bubbled in Hyukjae’s chest from the moment Donghae mentioned his peepee. Hyukjae leaned forward, kissing the latter’s chin.

“I’ll help you with your little problem everyday until I have to go back to Seoul, okay? And once I leave, you’ll have to learn to make do with your… right-hand man.”

Donghae pursed his lips. “Ha ha, very funny, Hyukkie.”

“Heh.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you too,” Hyukjae said cheekily, grinning. “But Hae, I’m really sleepy, so if you don’t mind…”

Donghae slid up the bed, carefully pulling his boyfriend’s head towards his chest with a knowing smile etched into his features. He planted a kiss atop the blond’s head and caressed his cheek, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles across Hyukjae’s face.

“Let’s go to sleep, baby. It’s been a long day.”

Hyukjae snuggled closer, nuzzling Donghae’s chest before planting his ear near the man’s heart, letting the beating of his heart lull him to sleep.

“Goodnight, Hae.” Hyukjae whispered, blinking his eyes slowly as exhaustion began to tug his soul into unconsciousness. “I love you.”

Donghae planted one last kiss on Hyukjae’s forehead—well, one last kiss for the night, that is—and smiled.

“Goodnight, Hyukkie.” Donghae echoed, sighing contentedly at the smell of his boyfriend’s strawberry (duh)-scented hair. “I love you too. More than you know.”

Sounds of nature soon took over, the chirping of crickets and hoots of a distant owl joining the soft snores that resounded within the confines of Donghae’s small childhood bedroom. The curtains had fallen for the night, drawing their day to a close. Donghae watched his lover’s sleeping face for several moments, smiling gently at the thought of how lucky he was to have this man nestled in his arms yet again, and hopefully always. He kissed Hyukjae’s closed eyelids and nuzzled his nose before joining him in a deep and peaceful slumber, mumbling one last goodnight Hyukkie before what was left of Saturday ebbed away.

“Doesn’t seem very helpful,” Hyukjae uttered to himself as he rummaged the kitchen cupboards in search of nothing in particular. He frowned disapprovingly, somewhat perturbed by the fact that he couldn’t find anything much other than condiments and spices and sugar and flour, stale cereal, half-empty boxes of tea sachets and the likes. By then he’d checked the fridge four times, each time hoping that what he needed would appear by some miraculous chance but to no avail. He decided to check it a fifth time. It was odd; he never thought the kitchen would be so barren.

“Good morning, Hyukjae. Need anything?”

Hyukjae jumped, bumping his head against the roof of the fridge. He stepped back, shut the door and rubbed his head, both sheepishly and to ease the ache. Hyukjae smiled, bowing awkwardly at Mrs Lee.

“Morning, eomma. Hope I didn’t wake you up or something,” Hyukjae greeted softly, slowly meeting her eye-to-eye. Mrs Lee could only laugh.

“Not at all, Hyukjae. What are you looking for?” she asked curiously, taking a step forward.

Hyukjae yawned, swiftly wrapping his hand around his mouth to shield the atmosphere from his most-likely-absolutely-vomit-inducing morning breath.

“I was… I was looking for food I could use to make some snacks today. I’m planning on taking Donghae out for a picnic,” he explained, shifting his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly. “But I… if you mind then… I’m sorry for snooping around, eomma. Pretty rude of me to—”

Mrs Lee shook her head, making her way towards the cupboards, doing as Hyukjae had earlier. She frowned, ripping a post-it-note off the refrigerator before scribbling some words onto it. She waved the little piece of paper at Hyukjae, smiling.

“Don’t be silly, Hyukjae. You really should stop behaving like a stranger around me—no, us.” Mrs Lee walked over, showing the blond the slip of paper; a grocery list of sorts. “Anyway, my love, it’s your lucky day. It’s grocery-shopping day! You might as well come with me since you’re up early. Sorry there isn’t anything much in the kitchen, Hyukjae. I’ve stopped making it a habit to keep the cupboards fully stocked since it’s mostly just your appa and I at home. Wouldn’t want any food going to waste, but I guess I’ll have to do something about it since winter is arriving, and Donghae might be moving back here.”

Hyukjae gently took the post-it-note from Mrs Lee’s grasp and forced a smile. “Right, forgot about… that. Sh-shall we… shall we go now, eomma?”

Mrs Lee turned, scanning the kitchen once over as if to read it with x-ray vision, just in case she’d forgotten to include something on her grocery list. Deciding that she’d had everything worth noting scribbled onto her list, Mrs Lee adjusted her glasses and looped her arm around Hyukjae’s, beaming.

“I think we’re good to go, my son.” She tugged on Hyukjae’s arm gently, pulling him towards the front door with her. “Might not be much to you but I’m a little excited. I don’t recall ever having any mother-son bonding time with you, Hyukjae.”

Hyukjae’s expression hardened. Mother-son bonding time, he echoed in his mind, pressuring the muscles on his face to form a brief smile. Huh. So maybe you do consider me your son.. What would you do after finding out your sons are in love with each other, eomma? “Y-yeah, I don’t recall spending any private time with you either, eomma.”

They slipped on their footwear and made it out of the house, abandoning the dim shelter of their humble home to be yellow by the rays of the morning sun.

“Maybe I could use the chance to talk to you about Areum,” Mrs Lee said softly, locking the gate behind them. “Lovely girl. Never occurred to me that we’ve never introduced you to her all these years, Hyukjae. She’s very excited about meeting you, y’know? You’re gonna love her, just like the rest of us do.”

Hyukjae slipped his hands into his pockets, pinching and clawing at the fabric beyond his eomma’s sight.

“I’m sure I will,” he mumbled as they started down a cobblestone path towards the neighbourhood center, eager to arrive at the supermarket. “I’ll love her just like the rest of you do.”

They made it past rows and rows of little shophouses, the owners to some of which exchanging bows with them, while others went about their mornings whisked away in their own worlds, concerned for their businesses and whatever matters might lie ahead in their paths. Mrs Lee looped her arm around Hyukjae’s, tugging on his arm a little. They turned a small corner and it made Hyukjae frown, blinking his eyes at the new route their feet seemed to be taking them. He snuck a glance at his eomma and wondered where they were going, knowing fully well that they