“Uncle Gyu!” Yun threw his arms around Mingyu’s legs when he walked into the play area of the McDonalds they were waiting in. “Hey buddy,” Mingyu reached down and lifted the little boy high in the air making him giggle. “How are things with you?” “I missed you,” Yun said softly as he wrapped his arms around Mingyu’s neck and snuggled closer to him. “I know. I’m sorry little man. I’ve been a bad Uncle. But look!” He pulled a little toy car from his pocket and put Yun down. “I brought you a little present.”

Yun took the car and went over to find a space on the floor where he could zoom it around. Minghao watched with barely contained disgust, he hated how dirty this place was, but he didn’t have the energy to stop Yun from sitting on the dirty floor. “So, how’s the job?” Mingyu smiled at Minghao as he sat down. “It’s great,” Minghao smiled back as he picked at the fries scattered across the tray on the table. “I made a few good sales already and I enjoy working there…” he stared down at a chicken nugget and felt like he was going to throw up. Why was he having so much trouble adjusting to the changes in his life? He should be happy to be working again in a great job that he loved. A lot of artists in his position weren’t so lucky and half the people he went to art school with were now taking office jobs or already waiting tables for a living.

“What’s the problem?” Mingyu could tell something was wrong. He reached out to grab Minghao’s hand from across the table and the other shook a little at the touch. “It’s just a lot of changes and I feel like I’m around more new people than ever but I still feel lonely.” Minghao pouted a little and Mingyu copied him subconsciously. “Now I feel bad and I don’t want to tell you about Wonwoo,” he said quietly and Minghao shook his head. “No, don’t be like that, please.” He looked over and watched Yun happily playing in his own world. “Tell me some good news.”

“Okay,” Mingyu’s eyes sparkled and his smile grew. Minghao couldn’t help feeling envious as he listened to Mingyu’s stories about taking off for a weekend by the coast, romantic breakfasts in bed and dinners out on the deck by candlelight, long conversations over wine until 4am. He missed that part, the getting to know someone part, the beginning when everything was new and fresh and seemed like it was going to be perfect.

He listened to stories of dinners in Seoul’s top restaurants, front row seats at a fashion show, coffee dates searching back alleys for the perfect instagrammable moment. It made him long for company and someone to share his interests. What he wouldn’t give to have someone take him to the Van Gogh exhibition at the Seoul Arts Centre next week.

“So have you met anyone?” Mingyu asked and Minghao was a little confused. “Oh, from working? No, not really, only that Junhui guy. He’s agreed to have Yun for me on Saturdays.” Mingyu narrowed his eyes. “I knew Jisoo and Seokmin would flake on you.” He looked down as Yun, toy car abandoned on the floor, climbed up into his lap and reached for a fry. “It’s okay. I like Jun-ge better anyway,” Yun said decidedly and Mingyu laughed loudly. “Can’t wait to tell them that.”

“So tell me about Jun-ge.” Mingyu looked down at Yun reaching for another fry. “He came to my house and we cooked together he really let me help and we made beef with broccoli and saved some for Daddy.” Yun discarded half the fry onto the tray and grabbed his cup of vanilla milkshake. “Then we went to his house and met his cats and he gave me the goodnight moon book and I really love that book.”

Mingyu cocked an eyebrow inquisitively and Minghao was quick to brush it off. “He babysat for me when I had a work party, it was no big deal, okay? And then they flaked on me and I had to ask him about Saturdays. I didn’t want to but I had no choice.” “You know I would have done it,” Mingyu said softly and Minghao nodded. “I know. That’s why I didn’t ask. You already do so much for us I can’t ask for any more.”

“So you tell me about this Jun,” Mingyu smiled over the top of Yun’s head. “He’s really handsome if I remember correctly. Ask him if he ever wants modelling work.”

Minghao sipped his orange juice and shook his head. “He’s already so busy. He works all week in the centre and teaches Dance on the weekends. He also volunteers at a cat shelter on Sundays and he’s studying something. I’m not sure what, he mentioned a research project, something to do with children’s’ literature.” “Wow,” Mingyu said, “he sounds….. Really busy. And he has time to help you out?” Minghao nodded and sipped his juice again. “Well he said yes.” “Maybe he’s one of those people who just can’t say no.”

Minghao wondered if that was true. If he really had time to spare to help out a man he hardly knew with a problem that had nothing to do with him. “He even said not to pay him. He said he may need a favour in return one day.”

“So dance?” Yun slipped from Mingyu’s lap and climbed under the table to reappear on Minghao’s. “Yeah,” Minghao pulled out his phone and handed it over with his YouTube history open. “He’s really incredible. He could have turned professional easily. I’d love to know where he trained.” “You watched all of these?” Mingyu scrolled down the list of videos with a glimmer in his eye. “More than once?” Minghao’s cheeks flushed. “I miss it, okay? And he’s really good.”

“Jun-ge is really good at everything. He has two cats called Mittens and Socks and he can cook and has a nice gardens and can sing the whole miao miao song.” Yun smiled at Minghao and then at Mingyu; proud of his observations of Junhui and his contribution to the conversation. “Well I guess he has two fans in this family.” Mingyu was laughing with delight at Yun’s steadfast expression. “Now you’ve finally met someone maybe we can even set up a double date sometime soon? I’d love you to meet Wonwoo and get to know him. We actually have tickets to see the Sydney Dance Company this Friday and I’m sure Wonwoo can get two more. He knows people.”

A double date? Minghao momentarily panicked before he remembered the phone number stuffed hastily into his pocket at the gallery party. He wasn’t sure if he could push any more babysitting onto Junhui but he really could do with a night out. A proper night out, one with fun and flirting, eating and drinking, and he did really want to meet Wonwoo. He guessed that it wouldn’t hurt to ask Junhui if he was free on Friday.

“Okay, I met this woman at the gallery party; I can ask her out if Junhui is free to babysit.”

Mingyu frowned confused, a curious smile turning up the corners of his mouth, as he watched Minghao totally misread his intention. “Oh, well I guess that would work too, maybe.....” His confusion was unnoticed by Minghao who was busy thinking about the logistics. The idea of a night out sounded increasingly tempting and he knew he could make it work somehow.

He wasn’t sure about Minsoo but she had been pretty and seemed nice. It might be worth putting himself out there after all this time.

“Okay,” he said brightly as he quickly warmed to the idea of a date. It had been a long time.

“Okay, so there’s cash on the counter,” Minghao said as Junhui followed him into the kitchen. “No need,” Junhui held up a plastic grocery bag proudly. “Yun and I are going to make crispy honey chicken. Right little stormcloud?” Yun was gripping the hand that wasn’t holding the groceries and Minghao shook his head. “Take the money then,” he grabbed it and held it out and Junhui giggled as he shirked away. The giggle was unusual, almost magical sounding, too light and happy to come from an adult male. “It’s my great privilege to provide for the young Emperor!” He dropped the bag of groceries and swung a squealing Yun up onto his back with one hand.

“Jun-gē!” Yun squealed with delight as he gripped the man’s hair obvious to the twisted expression of pain on Junhui’s face. Minghao couldn’t help but laugh. Junhui really was wonderful with kids. He’d make a great father one day. He had endless patience but was also so free and fun with his spirit. It was infectious and for a moment Minghao longed for his childhood, to be swung high into the strong arms of a man, to feel the rush of wild play tempered by comforting safety. He grabbed his keys and wallet as Junhui dumped a still- squealing Yun onto the couch.

“Okay, well I won’t be too late, I still have to open the gallery in the morning.” “Sure, actually do you think it might be alright if I just crash here on the couch? That way I’ll get more sleep and you won’t have to worrry about getting Yun up early.” Junhui smiled gently at Minghao and suddenly his eyes widened. “Oh no, I’m so sorry, you’re going on a date right? You probably want to bring her back here....” his face flushed pink up to the tips of his ears and he looked down in embarrassment.

Bring her back here? Minghao hadn’t even considered it. He didn’t want to even think how Yun would feel to wake up and find a stranger in his home; worse - in his Daddy’s bed.

“No, it’s not like that, I think you staying over is a great idea. Put Yun to sleep in my bed and you can crash in his room.”

“Sleepover?” Yun appeared from behind them with expectant eyes sparkling. “Yep,” Junhui popped the ‘p’ as he picked Yun up again. “Honey chicken and a sleepover. How lucky are we?”

“You like cars?” Yun asked as he swung his legs and flicked at the wheel of the toy car Mingyu had gifted him the other day. “I guess,” Junhui shrugged as he quickly stirred the icy soda water into the flour and salt. There was a big pan of oil sizzling in its impatience and Junhui mixed quickly and began to coat the chicken strips. Yun looked at him questioningly and it made Junhui giggle.

“I always liked other things more. Cats, dancing, music.” He dropped a few pieces of chicken into the oil and turned back to Yun. “Me too,” Yun said as he put the car down and picked up his beloved toy cat instead.

“Jun-gē can you tell me a story?” Junhui nodded and turned the chicken in the oil. “About what little stormcloud?” “Can you tell me a story about your Mama?”

Junhui’s eyes widened knowingly as he turned his back on the little boy for the briefest of moments. He’d put the pieces together easily enough to know everyone’s first impressions of their family situation were wrong. Yun’s mother obviously wasn’t around and the little boy never spoke of her. There were no pictures of her, no momentos, nothing to indicate her existence. No explanation but the obvious answer that she had left them and the deduction that it must have been a long time ago. The little boy probably didn’t even remember her.

“My Mama?” Junhui pulled the chicken out of the oil and into a dish lined with paper towel. “She’s tall and very beautiful with long dark hair.” Yun clutched the toy cat close and nodded, interested, his little eyes urging Junhui on. “She’s an amazing cook, making all sorts of delicious treats, and a beautiful dancer. She used to be a ballerina.” “Like you Jun-gē you make yummy food and you’re tall and a good dancer too!”

“When have you seen me dance?” Junhui chuckled as he dumped the battered and fried chicken into a clean bowl and began to cover it in honey and sesame seeds. “Daddy was watching you on the YouTube. I saw him.”

Junhui blushed a little as he opened the rice cooker and began to spoon steaming fluffy white rice out into a plastic bowl. He didn’t think Minghao was interested enough to actually look up his dance recitals. The man always seemed just slightly more enthusiastic than indifferent but far from interested in Junhui as a person. He wondered what Minghao was like when it was just him and Yun hanging out, if he ever let his guard down, if he ever just relaxed. The idea intrigued him more than he wanted to admit.

They sat opposite each other at the dining table Junhui had cleared off and ate as Yun rambled on about many things important to a four year old. He chattered about the cloud he saw in the sky that morning, finding a snail on a rock, arguing with another kid at the playground.

“Is my Daddy looking for a new Mama?” he suddenly asked and Junhui choked on his chicken.

“What makes you think that?” “We’ll, he’s gone out tonight with a lady, on a date.” Yun rubbed one eye tiredly with a chubby fist smearing a little of the honey sauce into his eyebrow. “I know what dates is. What do you think she’s like?”

Junhui didn’t know. He had no idea what sort of a woman would interest Minghao. He’d gathered what little he knew from his home, their sparse conversations, from knowing his son. He knew Minghao would want someone smart and hardworking, creative with interest in the arts, someone with strong family values. Someone who would be able to care about, and cherish, Yun as much as he did.

“I bet she’s really nice,” Junhui smiled as Yun shoved another piece of chicken in his mouth. “Eat your greens,” he pushed the little plate of stir fried vegetables across the table and Yun rolled his eyes but ate them anyway.

Minghao sat a little awkwardly beside Minsoo as the waiter placed the elegantly plated food in front of them. “So,” the man called Wownoo stared at them through elegantly gold rimmed spectacles, “how did you two meet?” “I was at Minghao’s gallery event last week,” Minsoo lifted her glass and took a long sip of wine. “An art aficionado then?” Mingyu smiled brightly and offered Wownoo a taste of the food on his fork which the other accepted.

“Not really,” Minsoo waved her hand dismissively and Minghao watched the light reflect her delicate pink nails. “My family is in real estate, Dad is selling an apartment with river views, a real eye catcher, and I needed something to hang in the entrance.” She sighed as her hand the stem of her wine glass. “I don’t know the first thing about art really but it was a fun party.”

“So, how did you two meet?” she asked the men sitting opposite and Mingyu gripped Wonwoo’s hand proudly. “We met at an event. Korean Vogue’s ‘Hot 30 under 30’ and we’ve been dating ever since.” “It was an instant connection,” Wonwoo’s cold gaze softened when he turned to look at Mingyu sitting beside him. “We just have so much in common.” Minghao wanted to throw up. He was so happy for his friend, intensely happy, but the sick churn of jealousy hurt. He’d never ever felt like that for anyone and couldn’t imagine anyone falling so hard and fast for him.

“Wow,” Minsoo looked back and forth from Mingyu to Wonwoo and over at Minghao trying to disappear into his chair. “Any artists on that Hot 30 list?” she said and Minghao shrank. “Tell me about Yun,” Wonwoo said to break the mood as he picked at his plate, “he’s all Mingyu talks about.”

“Who’s Yun?” Minsoo asked and Minghao suddenly realised he’d never mentioned his son to her. He probably should have said something before she agreed to the date but his son wasn’t some sort of disclaimer or deal breaker. “He’s just turned four and he’s a handful. He’s too smart for his own good and he loves cats.” Minghao smiled to himself as he pulled out his phone and showed Wonwoo a cute photo of Yun giggling in Mingyu’s arms.

“You have a son?” Minsoo asked and Minghao showed her the photo. “Yes. I have full custody; his mother isn’t in our lives or even in the country.” He was ashamed of the fact that, in reality, he had no idea where she was.

Silence descended over the group like a thick heavy cloud.

“How sweet,” Minsoo cracked first and the comment seemed so abjectly detached. She smiled at the photo like Yun was a puppy or some kind of exotic bird. Her eyes were curious but wary and Minghao pulled his phone back.

She’d get used to the idea. He knew it was probably a bit of a shock.

“Show me this baby who’s my only competition for Mingyu’s heart.” Minghao looked up to see warmth in Wonwoo’s eyes and an outstretched hand for the phone. Minghao was overwhelmingly grateful for Wonwoo’s interruption especially considering he knew Mingyu had a whole camera roll full of Yun.

“He’s beautiful,” Wonwoo smiled as he looked at the picture and handed the phone back. “His name means cloud but that’s a bit of an oversimplification. He’s more of a cyclone,” Minghao laughed nervously but Mingyu waved his hands as he took over the conversation; telling of Yun’s intelligence and sweet personality. Wonwoo watched him with the most fond gaze Minghao had ever seen and he felt jealousy churn in his stomach again as he picked at his food.

Whenever he was home he craved these things, a social life, good food and wine in elegant surrounds. But when he had them in his lap all he could think about was the constant craving to just go home and bury himself where it was warm and safe. It was endlessly tiring.

After another glass of wine and endless mindless conversation they eventually found themselves in the lobby of the theatre. And when they headed into the dimly lit seats Minsoo reached for his hand and he let her. It felt better than nothing.

“Goodnight moon!” Yun chirped happily but his fists rubbed at his eyes almost constantly. He was snuggled warmly in Minghao’s bed with Junhui perched a little awkwardly on the side as he read aloud from the Goodnight Moon book. This seemed uncomfortably intimate, being in Minghao’s bedroom, considering they were barely more than strangers. The room was eclectic, sparsely decorated in the way that spoke of elegance, of selectivity. Everything had a purpose and a place, from the hand crocheted throw rug to the beautiful piece of driftwood on the dresser. Junhui wanted to see more, to get a feel for the taste and predilection of the artist, a window into his mind.

He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. His heart was a throbbing, pulsating open wound. It’s ache every single day was only tempered by the makeshift balm of activity, throwing himself into his work and study, punishing his body with dance. There was a bandaid sealing his broken heart off but maybe it was time to rip it. The edges were itching, screaming at him to expose it, to let the cold air do it’s healing work.

He wanted to know more of the man who was so closed off and chic and yet kept an eclectic collection of frog figurines on his bedroom windowsill. He had a chilling feeling that maybe this is where he would find his heart’s restoration. This felt like healing, this warm home, this lovely little family. He could feel truth in his future as he sat on the edge of the bed and looked around the room.

“Goodnight little stormcloud,” Junhui said as he put down the book and turned his attention back to the boy starting to doze. “Goodnight Moon Jun,” Yun laughed sleepily at his own well worn joke and Junhui was endeared to see his little thumb slip between his lips. As if he couldn’t get any cuter. He sat on the bed, one hand on Yun’s back, patting gently as he watched the boy drift away into dreamland. “What do you think she’s like?” Yun murmured right before he went to sleep and Junhui wondered which Mama was on his mind.

“I just didn’t get it,” Minsoo said as the quartet walked out of the theatre in search of taxis. “What wasn’t to get?” Wonwoo stared at the tiny woman with barely veiled disdain, his patience worn thin by her constant stream of interruptions during the show, and Mingyu squeezed his hand in distraction. “I don’t know,” she waved her well manicured hands around to emphasise her point, “I guess the finer points of abstract art are lost on me.” Minghao his teeth as he tried to hold back from explaining the meaning of abstraction, the structure and foundations of contemporary dance, and why true abstraction was possible in visual art but not dance. It was a conversation he didn’t have the patience for at 11pm on the cold city street.

“It was basically a visual representation of the journey of the human mind through the struggles of trauma and mental illness.” Wonwoo stared warily at her and she stared back and Minghao knew this was the last double date they’d ever go on. “I just like entertainment that’s easy and fun,” she replied and clung to Minghao’s hand again. “We should have went to a movie.” He let her hold his hand, mainly because it was cold, mostly because the warmth of human touch was something he was missing sorely. “Well I liked it!” Mingyu overcompensated for the deterioration of the mood by being way too bright but Minghao appreciated it as much as ever. He could always rely on his best friend to rescue him; maybe a little too much.

When a taxi pulled up beside them Mingyu politely waved them towards it. Minghao held the door open for Minsoo before leaning in and wishing her good night. “I’ll call you,” he said with a smile and she smiled back despite looking slightly bewildered. Minghao didn’t care. He was going home alone tonight and he was sure the offer to call her was nothing but an empty promise.

“She seems..... nice...” Mingyu managed to say as her taxi drove off. “Minghao, I don’t know you well, but she doesn’t seem like-“ Mingyu clapped a hand over his boyfriends mouth in a late attempt at damage control but it wasn’t necessary. Minghao knew. He wasn’t sure he could endure another night like this and he sighed as he leaned against the wall of the theatre.

“Let’s be honest, she was horrible, this whole night was a failure,” Minghao closed his eyes and rubbed at them tiredly. “Hao,” Mingyu began but Minghao leaned back off the wall and shot him a severe look. “This was all your idea,” he scowled, anger and frustration sorely misplaced, and he saw Mingyu frown back. “My idea? I didn’t invite her. When I suggested it I assumed you’d ask out that Junhui guy since he’s all you ing talk about these days!” Mingyu rolled his eyes so dramatically and Minghao stared at him open mouthed.

“Junhui?” he murmured right as a taxi pulled up beside them. He’d never even considered it.  There was a thread hanging here, barely visible, begging to be pulled but Minghao was afraid of being unravelled and falling completely apart. He was still so scared of being exposed.

“I’ll see you guys later. Thanks for the tickets.” He climbed quickly into the taxi and waved as it pulled away from the curb.

City lights flashed across his face, fading to a subtle glow as they left the glare of metropolis and slipped into midnight suburbia. When the pulled up in the driveway Minghao was surprised and a little shaken to see the living room light blaring through the closed curtains. He paid the driver and unlocked the door and was met with the sight of Wen Junhui, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his regal profile lit by the cheap single bulb illuminating the room in harsh shades of unflattering yellow.

He had books piled around him and when he looked up his expression was one of interruption, but welcome distraction, and he smiled widely but a little shy. Minghao didn’t miss it, the fleeting glimmer of bashfulness that made his handsome features soften, melting into something a little sweeter. “Hi,” Junhui looked behind him to see if Minghao was alone and seemed relieved that he was.

“Hi,” Minghao smiled back. He looked around, seeing his tiny little house tidy and neat, everything in its place besides the study materials surrounding Junhui like a fort. “Was everything okay?” “Of course,” Junhui began to scrape his books and papers off the coffee table and got up from the couch. “How was your night?” “Horrible!” Minghao kicked his shoes off and sank onto the couch as Junhui walked around it to pack his things into his bag.

“Horrible?” He looked up, questioningly, curious at Minghao’s words. “Yes horrible,” Minghao eked out an awkward little giggle. “My date didn’t appreciate the Sydney Dance Company very much and my friends didn’t appreciate her at all.” He groaned and looked over and when he saw the enthusiasm on Junhui’s face he was stunned. He was absolutely struck wordless by the joy, the excitement on the man’s face, at the mention of the famous contemporary dance company.

“Wow, I’ve always wanted to see them...” his expression faded from excitement into wistfulness and Minghao hated himself. He was so stupid, the answer was right in front of him, but he didn’t have the strength yet to even ask the question. Was he willing to take a leap of faith and once again open up his heart and mind to the risk of pain and sadness and staggering, shattering anger? Was it worth the risk?

He closed his eyes and opened them when he heard Junhui moving around in the kitchen. “Hungry?” the man called out to him and he was. He’d barely been able to stomach the delicate portions of the elegant dinner at the five star restaurant that he’d so badly wanted to visit. Like everything else it had just left him feeling empty and unsatisfied and craving something more.

Without even having to answer a bowl appeared in front of him. It was piping hot, steaming tendrils rising from the bed of white rice, a pile of crispy looking battered chicken nestled in the centre. It was glistening, tantalising with its thick coating of honey and sprinkled with sesame seeds and green onions, and Minghao took it and the chopsticks from Junhui’s outstretched hands.

“Tell me,” Junhui smiled as he sat down next to Minghao with his own bowl of leftovers. “Tell me about the dancers. Do they still have that incredible dancer with the beard and the red hair?” Minghao took a bite of the chicken and the savoury sweetness was incredible.

As he began to talk and Junhui curled himself up to listen the clock ticked past midnight and into the small hours. And by the time he laid his tired body down next to his son sleeping peacefully Minghao was feeling better than he had in a long time.

He wanted to keep Junhui close, but was content to call him friend for now.

For now it was just enough to make his heart open a little; a crack big enough for the right person to worry their way in and make themselves at home the way Junhui seemed to already be doing.