“I don’t want no more…” dryly croaked a literally feverish Yoseob from his bed layered with sheets. He slowly turned his ailing, pint-sized body to face the wall.

Junhyung moaned. He was getting nowhere with Yoseob’s defiance.

Yoseob became the victim of a fever a week before, and umma thought he was going to birth several large mammals. It was just what he needed, but figuring in the environment that he was in and various other variables, Yoseob catching a bug was bound to happen one way or another: The temperature was dropping, snow was forming, and Yoseob had to be about little children daily because of school… little germy children. The boy had fallen so ill he couldn’t attend nor was he allowed to attend school. He was fine one moment after Junhyung dropped him off at school. Two hours later, Hyunseung called him and told him of Yoseob’s rapid temperature and attitude change. Junhyung was at the school in five minutes instead of the usual ten.

Junhyung had to stay home and nurture his baby around the clock. Needless to say, he couldn’t work at either job. Kikwang was running Sweet Yong -- and couldn’t be happier that Junhyung was taking a break from working, although that break came under unfortunate circumstances. It was hard on the man, but at least he got to spend time with Yoseob and keep his mind off of Doojoon-related things.

Junhyung was knelt beside his sick child, in his hands a tiny round bowl a third of the way full with some organic green brew that he’d whipped up in the kitchen. He had been feeding Yoseob this for the whole week as opposed to going out and buying medicine. He figured making his own would save him money, and it would be healthier and more natural for his little one’s body than over-dyed syrups, though he was no herbalist. However, he was a baker, and he followed the recipes he found in books faithfully. The only problem that he ran into was Yoseob’s refusal to take it when he needed to. His refusal was strong and unwavering because of the bitter, unforgiving taste from the raw herbs. He hated it. It wasn’t fruity or nice smelling, and it didn’t appeal to the child in him at all.

“I know it doesn’t taste good, but it’s gonna make your cold go away so you can feel better,” argued Junhyung reasonably.

“No.”

Junhyung sighed. He was tired and had been emotionally dry with a straw all week long. Fighting with Yoseob was a hassle and it definitely took its toll.

“Baby. Seobie… Don’t make umma worry more…” he made a small yellow cup appear, “Look. I’ve got your juice right here. After you take the medicine I’ll give you juice so you won’t taste it anymore, but I need you to be a big boy for me. Please.”

Junhyung usually bribed him with cups of juice or popsicles, and was relieved when he saw Yoseob finally struggle up from the sheets. He helped him, pulling them off and away. Yoseob’s round face was tinted like a peach. His nose was runny and he couldn’t even open his eyes all the way. Junhyung’s heart painfully throbbed.

Yoseob peered at the evil bowl of disdainful medicine, then his small lips parted to accept it. Junhyung set the cup of juice down on the floor and used that hand to hold Yoseob’s chin steady. He tilted his head back, placed the bowl at his lips and slowly poured the brew into Yoseob’s mouth. Yoseob allowed a few swallows before pulling away from the bowl. His face shriveled into disgust as he gulped down what he had stored in his cheeks.

“It’s nasty, umma…” he sobbed. Junhyung swallowed down the little lump in his throat. He hated seeing his boy like this…

“I know, Seobie. There’s only a little more left. Just a little more…”

Junhyung fed him that “little more”. Yoseob made more faces, smacking his lips as he finally finished all of what was in that red bowl and immediately reached for the juice. Junhyung picked the cup from the floor. Yoseob stretched for the yellow cup of fruit juice and clasped it tight as if it were his lifeline. He drank all of that, too, and returned the cup to his umma.

Junhyung smiled gently and rubbed Yoseob’s back, “Thank you, sweetie… See, you don’t have to take anymore today.”

“No more?”

“No more… I promise,” replied Junhyung confidently. He pecked his son’s puffed, sweltering cheek thrice and helped him worm back into his sheets. Yoseob pulled them all the way up, until only his mop of un-kept hair could be viewed.

“Umma’s gonna get you more juice, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Junhyung prepared a full cup of natural apple juice and returned to the room.

“Seobie, your cup is right here on your nightstand by your clock. It’s apple juice. I want you to drink at least half of it. You have to drink a lot, too. You listening to me?”

He could see Yoseob nod.

And then the doorbell rang.

Junhyung breathed. The repairman had arrived.

“Umma’s gotta handle some business. Call me if you need me.”

Junhyung kissed Yoseob lightning fast and hurried out of the room to answer the door.

He met the repairman for a second time that week. He was a freelance repairman, and one that reportedly did his job well for a price Junhyung could afford with no trouble. He went straight to work on the broken heater and Junhyung went to work cleaning his house. It was something he was starting to do a lot of. He didn’t want his mind to wander, as it often did and would. Keeping himself busy, even if he was not at work, was going to give him that mental distraction he craved.

Junhyung didn’t want to think about it being more than a month since he’d been living this half life. He didn’t want to think about money and being behind. He didn’t want to think about Doojoon being at that boy’s home.

He didn’t want to think period.

Cleaning had distracted him all those weeks ago, yes, but this week was a different week: He and Doojoon’s anniversary was approaching. Distractions and chemical fumes weren’t enough and weren’t going to be enough these upcoming days.

Junhyung’s soul was growing tender; it ached agonizingly, and one could tell this now just by observing his late behavior. Even Yoseob knew.

After all, he did “catch” him.

“Catch”?

Yes, catch. Yoseob caught Junhyung in Doojoon’s office at the start of the week. He hadn’t been in there -- neither had been -- since the man was thrown out of the home. From Yoseob’s perspective, Junhyung was sitting in his appa’s chair, disturbingly transfixed on a cluster of framed pictures with the blankest face he’d ever seen come over his umma. He didn’t even know if he was breathing.

Junhyung passed by Doojoon’s office… He thought it was stupid to try and resist going inside. Why should he stop now? He’d already done it twice.

Junhyung walked in silently… His feet moved like air across the carpet; they took cautious steps as if afraid to wake a sleeping spirit. Why he moved in this manner he could not explain. Nothing was making much sense.

His eyes swept over the walls… Those walls displayed maps from local to worldwide. Doojoon posted sticky notes beside areas and countries he had visited and had yet to visit with miscellaneous messages Junhyung could care less to read. But under those maps were his family photos. His late sister, his mother and father… and him, Junhyung and their little Yoseob.

Junhyung sat himself down in Doojoon’s chair, facing the lovely arrangement of pictures just as he had done the day Yoseob found him. There were early pictures of baby Yoseob, of Junhyung, of baby Yoseob, Junhyung and Doojoon… all three of them. Junhyung’s lips lightly curled at one of the pictures. It was a picture from a picnic the family went on by this gorgeous pond. Yoseob was two months shy of a year old; Doojoon and Junhyung were a new couple. It was a great memory, one of the latter’s personal favorites.

There was more kissing than eating on that picnic blanket. Doojoon laid on the left side of his body, Junhyung lying on his right, and a dribbling Yoseob in the middle. It hurt Junhyung’s brain trying to recall the approximate number of kisses that were exchanged between him and Doojoon, but the passion and love that he felt behind Doojoon’s lips was a feeling that numbed, overpowered and comfortably burned his heart with the fuzz of reminiscence. As he rest in that chair, Junhyung could effortlessly hear Yoseob’s shrieks of jealousy whenever Doojoon’s mouth would flutter onto his umma’s. Junhyung would laugh, then give little Seobie his share of smooches and attention. He would then proceed onto crawling in between his appa and climb all over Junhyung while sputtering baby jargon to the latter. He was a selfish little thing. Yoseob wanted umma all to himself, and it humored Doojoon.

“Looks like I’ve got some competition”, Junhyung remembered his lover saying with that genuine smile of his. It was a beautiful memory, but the miraculous smile that the recollection produced on Junhyung’s dry lips died.

His heart was so sad.

He could still hear Doojoon’s hot-blooded “I love you”s each blissful pocket of time that their lips met under that yellow sun as clear as he heard Yoseob’s nightly wails for a bottle while they were at the pinnacle of their love making. Things were so simple. Love was so simple.

There were no fights, not a whisper of temptation taunting either of them.

Where did it all go wrong?

…Where did he go wrong?

Junhyung turned away from the pictures. He sat in Doojoon’s chair in silence. And while he simply sat there, staring at the void space that was once home to Doojoon’s stacks of notepads, the hardly-healed slits of his heart opened more and more with each successive beat. It bled. It drained him of the soft emotions that he’d forced into the darker cavity of his heart. An upwelling of warmth from that bleeding was felt in the very center of his . It was a heavy warmth. A distressing warmth. A warmth that recalled to Junhyung his humanness, that tender part within every being that cannot be hardened or forgotten or suppressed. And the man fought so hard to suppress it…

Junhyung tried to be strong, but no matter how hard he yearned, he couldn’t turn his heart into a callous overnight. He couldn’t enshroud it in a black, abrasive cancer. He failed. Because if he had succeeded, he wouldn’t be sitting in Doojoon’s office or his chair, moping and bleeding, tearing up, missing the way things once were. He would be somewhere -- not in Doojoon’s office -- not giving a about him or his blonde or anything remotely associated with the two.

This was Junhyung’s third visit in Doojoon’s office this month. He didn’t understand it. It enraged him every time he attempted to understand. He wound up with a wadded heart and blurry, distorted vision. This man -- Doojoon -- hurt and betrayed him in the worst fashion that a lover could do to another, and Junhyung was sitting there… practically missing him.

Why? Is that supposed to be comprehensible? Why would he even feel anything for Doojoon? Junhyung thought it was sick. He was with this man -- or, almost with this man -- for five whole years. He raised his nephew as if he were his own son, his own blood. He made sacrifices, he took risks, all in the name of love. Then Doojoon went on ahead and ground up the leftovers of his heart whenever his affair started with that blonde. That’s when the eroding of Junhyung’s heart began; he didn’t even know he was being eaten. Then, when the light illuminated Doojoon’s entire situation, Junhyung could feel a third of his heart gone. A third that could not be immediately replaced.

Doojoon ruined their family, therefore Junhyung had every reason to hate him, but why was it different this time around?

Could it have something to do with their impending anniversary? The one that he would be spending alone and without his partner at his side?

Five years.

Why would Doojoon just throw that away?

♥

Yoseob finally went through his few, terrible nights of sweating; his body broke from the fever the third day and began to steadfastly regulate itself. He was getting better, much better, and Junhyung couldn’t have been happier about this. Yoseob wasn’t bedridden anymore; he was beginning to joke around with his umma. Junhyung didn’t have to wallow in silence and poisonous thoughts. He had a healthier Yoseob that he could cuddle with, play with, talk with, and do all the previous activities that they used to do before he’d succumbed to that nasty fever, but to a safe degree.

The small family had just finished up their breakfast. Yoseob broke away from the table, slurping on a popsicle on the main couch. That was his favorite part of being ill. He could have as many popsicles as he desired. Junhyung warned him not to get cozy with this ritual. He needed to keep that fever down, and the frozen treats did the job fairly well.

“I believe someone’s birthday is coming up,” announced Junhyung, putting away the dirty breakfast dishes. He would wash them later. He liked sitting down and having conversations with his baby nowadays. They were vital conversations, the dishes could wait, and Hyunseung suggested that they were always open with one another whenever presented the chance.

“Me! Me, me, me!” sang the boy.

Junhyung settled down next to Yoseob, “And you will be how old?”

Yoseob pouted, “You forgot, umma?”

“Of course I didn’t forget; I was just teasing,” Junhyung ran a hand through the little one’s silky hair, “My Seobie will be five years old. Five whole years.”

Yoseob grinned with a cherry popsicle trapped in his mouth.

“Yup.”

“Have you decided what you wanted to do to celebrate? Do you want a party? You can invite all of your friends from school.”

Junhyung could actually afford a decent party. Yoseob, too, had been through the mill upon the sudden absence of Doojoon… A party would be the perfect highlight in the midst of such a confusing and dismal time for him. Junhyung saved up a good chunk of money just in case Yoseob did want a birthday party.

But Yoseob shook his head.

Junhyung blinked. “No? No party?”

“No party,” Yoseob frankly reiterated.

“Then… what do you want to do?”

The boy looked at Junhyung with the roundest orbs. He fanned his dark lashes four times, then reverted back to eating his popsicle.

That told Junhyung absolutely nothing.

“Don’t you want to celebrate turning five years old?” Because he wanted to do something for him.

“Uh huh.”

“How do you want to celebrate, then?”

Yoseob didn’t answer back. He continued to slurp.

“Baby I won’t know what to do if you don’t tell me.”

“‘Cause you will get mad at me,” muttered Yoseob.

Junhyung blinked again. “Mad”? For what reason would he have to get angry with Yoseob? Junhyung snuggled closer to his son…

“I will get mad at you? Why would I get mad at you, Seobie?”

“You will. I know you will.”

“No I won’t…”

Yoseob peered up into the bewildered eyes that belonged to his umma. His little face was frightfully serious.

“You promise you won’t get mad?”

“I promise.”

Yoseob looked back down at his popsicle…

“………………I wanna see appa on my birthday.”

…Junhyung understood.

“You really want to see him, Seob?”

Yoseob bobbed his head, but slightly, as if he expected a “no” from his umma. He did expect one.

“How about this weekend? You can spend the whole weekend with him.”

“I can!?”

Junhyung smiled with utmost honesty. Yoseob happily cried and tackled his umma with his little self. He sprightly thanked him over and over and gave Junhyung’s face sticky, cherry popsicle juice kisses.

He was smiling, and Junhyung was, too. Yoseob’s happiness and keeping him lifted in those high spirits was his top priority. Junhyung was more than willing to sacrifice his sanity for him.

He at least owed him that much.

(Later…)

Junhyung decided to notify Doojoon of Yoseob’s “birthday wish” that night as the said boy was well into dreamland. Well, actually, not necessarily that night. It was close to 2:00 A.M. Junhyung had a perfect reason that answered why he waited this late to call Doojoon. One, so Yoseob couldn’t inject himself into the conversation as he had done the last time (and we all know how that turned out), and two, hopefully Doojoon would be asleep, that way Junhyung could just leave a simple voicemail and be done with it.

Junhyung called him from the loveseat, a cup of hot tea in his other hand. The ringing let him know he was being transmitted…

He was not prepared for what came after.

“Junhyung?” gruffed Doojoon from the other side, his voice was almost unrecognizable. He was just waking up.

Junhyung gave himself a moment to breathe. It still felt so odd hearing Doojoon’s voice after so long.

“…Junhyung? You still there?”

“Yes… You’re awake,” replied Junhyung in amazement.

“Well… I heard my phone ring, so I woke up and saw that you were calling. Is everything alright?”

“Everything is well,” Junhyung coughed to correct his composure, “I called to tell you… I recently talked with Yoseob about what he wanted to do for his birthday.”

“And what did he say?”

“I asked if he wanted a party, but he told me that all he wanted was to spend time with you. Instead of setting up a date for his birthday, I’ve decided that he may see you this weekend, if you are free.”

A strong silence passed.

“Are you… You are serious? Really?” Doojoon sounded like he livened up two whole notches.

“It’s Yoseob’s wish. He’s been through a bit these previous weeks. Seeing you would benefit him.”

“‘Been through a bit’?”

“He fell sick with a fever.”

“Is he--?!”

“--He’s alright, he’s alright… I would say he’s at ninety percent now. I’m still giving him fluids and popsicles to keep his temperature down, but he’s gotten over the worst.”

Doojoon sighed with relief from that news.

“Good… I could always count on you to get him better; I sure as hell couldn’t do anything for him all those time he caught a cold. I felt so useless, but when you tended to him… it was so natural. I’m just glad Seobie has you. And… Jun I mean every word of that. I haven’t been the father that I should have been -- …that I wanted to be… -- to him.”

“Well it’s a fine time to think about that,” Junhyung shot, “But now’s not the time to pelt me with the realizations of your shortcomings. All I need to know now is if you will be here for him early Friday morning.”

“Of course, Junhyung. Of course I will.”

“And that’s all I called for--”

“--Junhyung. I never wanted any of this for us.”

Junhyung puffed, “Doojoon--”

“--Babe, this was all--”

“--Save it. Goodbye, Doojoon.”

Junhyung snipped the line, roughly jamming his thumb as he pressed the button. Junhyung downed his tea in one go. He didn’t need to hear that. He didn’t need to hear Doojoon grovel to him that he was a , that he ruined everything.

Because his heart, again, was tenderizing.

It would believe anything.

Doojoon, with his cell phone still to his ear, sighed once he noticed Junhyung hung up on him.

“Goodnight…” he muttered to the static, and then he hung up, too. Doojoon slid the phone back under the couch that he was sleeping on. Then he folded his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling in darkness. The first thing that came to him out of that darkness was how much softer Junhyung’s voice had become. In their phone call prior to that one, his tone was impermeable. Just seconds ago, Doojoon got the impression that he could take the cold steel that was once Junhyung’s tone and bend it with his bare hands. There was a vulnerability to it now… a gentleness. It was still strong, very strong and firm like the man Junhyung always had been, but Doojoon could feel his lover crumbling.

What was going on with both his babies? He had an even greater need to be at home. His real home.

“Doojoon?” a faint voice from the darkness rang. Then there was a click, and a fragile light from a near lamp cracked the shadowy room.

In his evening robe -- and looking stunning -- Dongwoon emerged from his bedroom. His eyes were tired, but they retained freshness somehow. He parked himself at the end of the couch where Doojoon’s legs were.

“I thought I heard you… Were you having a nightmare?”

Doojoon purposefully remained focused on the ceiling, “No. Junhyung called.”

“At this hour?”

“Yeah. We had a brief talk about Yoseob.”

But yeah… Dongwoon introduced a perfect question. Why did Junhyung decide to call him so late about Yoseob? Doojoon squinted as he searched for the result to that question.

“Oh. Okay… Just making sure you were fine in here. Would you like more blankets?”

“No. I’m good. Thanks.” Doojoon turned back onto his side.

That was his cue to leave him be, but Dongwoon didn’t budge. He looked down on the man that had physically and emotionally turned away from him with the heaviest eyes.

“Doojoon… it’s getting colder. You shouldn’t be sleeping out here on this couch every night. Come to bed… There’s enough room for you. It’s warm, too. Warmer than this.”

“No thanks. I’m fine out here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah…”

Dongwoon bit his lips together. Since Doojoon’s been “seeking refuge” in his home, he hasn’t slipped a bare foot between his sheets. He hasn’t touched him, he hasn’t kissed him. He hasn’t given him a single, affectionate glance. It was like they had become awkward roommates. That wasn’t right. Prior to Junhyung’s finding out about them, Dongwoon couldn’t keep Doojoon off of him -- and Doojoon loved him some Dongwoon -- but now, Doojoon was dodging his every advance. Why was this?

Dongwoon brushed off Doojoon’s crusty attitude, then climbed over the man’s frame and laid himself down on top of it. All of it. He held his breath the entire time he did this, so when he brought his lips up into Doojoon’s ear he exhaled so moistly in that way that typically had Doojoon shivering for more.

There was no shivering this time. Just a bland, “Dongwoon. What are you doing?”

Dongwoon enwrapped his arms around the man beneath him and breathed with him, “Keeping you warm, baby. I’m gonna sleep out here with you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Dongwoon had enough. “Oh? Why not? Everything seemed like a good idea until Junhyung--”

“--No. Let’s not go there tonight, Dongwoon. It’s too late.”

“Then let’s cut this short: Tell me that you love me. Look at me, in my eyes, and tell say ‘I love you, Dongwoon.’ Just like you always did.”

It was a plea… Doojoon peered Dongwoon in his spheres, and my, they were spheres. The light in the room swam around in the salty liquid in his eyes.

The silence voiced Doojoon’s answer for him.

Dongwoon’s visage trembled, “You snuck around on him… then you finally got what you wanted… or did you ever want me at all?”

The swimming bead of light collected at the bottom rim of Dongwoon’s left eyelid rushed down his cheek. Doojoon watched.

Dongwoon ripped himself away from the man, yanked the string on the lamp that ceased the light, and made a beeline for his room.

The door slammed shut.

Doojoon didn’t get much sleep that night.

♥

(That weekend…)

“UMMA!! HE’S HERE, UMMA!” a dressed Yoseob hollered from the living room at a volume that could pop his little lungs.

The day unavoidably had come, and Junhyung loathed how the hours had somehow felt like minutes. Time had passed so quickly, and early that Friday morning, Yoseob bounced up and down on Junhyung’s mattress to wake him up.

Yoseob has been waiting on the couch nearest to the door that conveniently had a window in behind it. His small ears became wide receptors for any sounds that resembled a car that was pulling into their driveway, and his eyes were as open and shiny as an owl’s.

Junhyung was finalizing Yoseob’s luggage, which was only a teensy yellow suitcase. He hated folding every blouse, pairing every sock, putting away every toiletry that he would need for those three days he was going to be with Doojoon… The reality was that Yoseob was going to be out of his care for three days, but he had to remind himself that this was for his baby, and for his happiness.

Yoseob cast his excited brown eyes out the window and saw Doojoon’s car parked in the driveway like normal. To him, it was just like Doojoon had been out on an errand for Junhyung and he’d finally returned home. The man casually exited his car.

“APPA!!”

Yoseob started banging his fists on the glass in order to snag his attention. Doojoon heard him, looked to the window, waved animatedly and shut his car door with the same amount of energy. Yoseob zoomed out of his seat and bolted to the door. Junhyung entered the stirring room with Yoseob’s suitcase.

“You’d better not open that door, Yoseob. And were you banging on my window? Have you lost it?”

“I’m sorry, umma! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Open the door for appa! He’s out there!”

Junhyung rolled his eyes, “Indeed he is.” He undid the locks and pulled the door back. As soon as a space formed that was wide enough for his body to slip through, Yoseob raced out the house, giving Junhyung a heart attack. The concrete was starting to ice over, and the poor thing could’ve slipped and fell and caused an injury. That, thankfully, did not happen.

“APPA!”

Doojoon kneeled and spread his arms. “Seobie!”

The little boy collided into his appa’s bosom, nearly knocking him over, and not a force could pry him from the man. Doojoon enfolded the boy like the invaluable gem he was, then kissed all about his small jaw with fury. Junhyung watched them from the doorway.

“Heeey… How’ve you been? You’ve gotten so big.”

“I missed you, appa. I missed you…”

“Me too, baby. Me too. I missed you so much… Too much--”

“--Yoseob,” Junhyung called form the front porch. Doojoon’s eyes shifted to the man, and his senses numbed. It had been a month since he’d laid eyes on him.

“Come on. Let’s go up to the porch with umma before he pops a vein,” Doojoon whispered to the boy. He guided him to the porch and at the feet of Junhyung. Every step had his nerves rattling.

The pupils of two long lost lovers met peacefully. More peaceful than either male initially thought possible. Junhyung was looking at Doojoon, and Doojoon was looking at Junhyung. Or observing him, actually, and from the hair on his head to his house slippers. Junhyung appeared maybe five pounds lighter. In spite of that weight loss, the man was looking his best. He was never one to let weakness externally show.

“Hey… Good morning…” Doojoon kindly greeted.

“Good morning, Doojoon.”

“Um…” Doojoon pointed to the little suitcase in the other’s hand, “Is that all his stuff?”

Junhyung relinquished Yoseob’s luggage to Doojoon, “Everything he needs.”

“Let’s gooo!!” piped the boy quietly, tugging on his father’s arm.

Doojoon chuckled at this enthusiasm.

“Someone’s ready to go.”

Junhyung lowered himself to become one in height with the wriggling boy, wearing sort of a half smile. It was just him and his child now, Doojoon excluded.

“You want to leave me that bad?” he pouted.

Yoseob blushed, “Uhh… no.”

“Are you sure that you can brush your teeth all by yourself?”

“Yes. I can.”

“And you can pour your own juice?”

“Yesss…”

“And you’re sure you’ve got everything? All the toys you wanted to bring? Because I packed what you told me to, but I thought you might wanted to bring along--”

“--Yeeeessss…” Yoseob answered, “I’m sure of everything. I gotta gooo, umma.”

“Alright… Come. Give me a hug.”

Junhyung stopped the question-pelting, coiled his long arms around his little one and took three, complete breaths… one for each day that he would be without him. And then he finally moved away to look the boy into his happy orbs. Their pupils met straight on. Yoseob touched Junhyung’s cheek, then traced the line by his jaw that caused his entire face to fall into a frown with his small finger. It made his little heart worry. He understood he would be leaving his umma all alone.

“Don’t be sad, umma… I will be home on Sunday.”

“I know, I knooow…” Junhyung tried to smile, “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

“Me too. I’m gonna miss you, too. Please don’t be sad.”

Junhyung blinked faster… “Fine. If you say so… Be a good boy. Call me before you go to bed every night, so umma knows you’re doing well. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Junhyung kissed his forehead twice. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now can I go!?”

Junhyung laughed some at him, kissed him one more time, then rose off of his knees to stand tall. His face hardened as he now connected his line of sight with Doojoon’s.

“He’s to be in bed by eight-thirty at the latest. Don’t let him stay up late. He doesn’t get any dessert unless he eats well. Put milk in his cereal, I don’t care how much he begs. He’s still getting over his fever, so he’s going to need to drink frequently. He knows how lenient you are towards him, so he’s going to refuse to drink every hour, but you must force him to drink. Or you can buy him popsicles.”

Doojoon arched a brow.

“Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Junhyung replied, stepping up to Doojoon, dropping his tone and sharpening his eyes, “You’d better not have him around that . If you do, you can forget about ever having him over again. I mean it, Doojoon. I am so serious.”

Doojoon understood, and showed this with an affirmative nod.

“Yeah. Th-Thank you, Jun. I’m… grateful.” Doojoon bore a smile that was only made for the man he cherished, but Junhyung didn’t think anything of it, so it dripped away from his lips. Doojoon lightly shook Yoseob by the hand, “Alrighty. Ready to go?”

“Yeah!”

Father and son turned away from the house, away from umma, and started for the car. They were chitchatting. Junhyung hollered Yoseob’s name in farewell, and Yoseob turned back and waved with his open hand. The man looked on from under the doorway as the pair loaded the vehicle. It pulled out of his drive way, into the street, down the street, and out of sight.

It was just Junhyung, now.

It was just Junhyung, his thoughts, and stillness.

(Inside Doojoon’s car…)

“Are you all buckled in?”

“Yes!!”

Doojoon backed out of the driveway… Yoseob kept his eyes on umma the whole time. He was excited that he would be visiting with Doojoon, but a little piece of security washed away… He’d been nuzzling by Junhyung’s side for so long it felt a little uncomfortable to leave it.

Doojoon saw these feelings play on his face as he watched him via his rearview mirror.

“It’ll be alright, baby. You’ll see umma again, but you and I are gonna have fun this weekend. Look under the blanket next to you.”

Yoseob peered off to his right, and yes, there was a blanket. He threw it off the seat. Underneath that blanket was a wrapped present.

“It’s a present!! Is it mine?”

“Yep.”

“I can open it?!”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

Yoseob shredded the paper and found a jumbo coloring book of animals and just about every medium of coloring utensils. Doojoon heard Yoseob spazzing in the backseat as he looked over his enormous amounts of crayons, colored pencils and markers.

“Thank you, appa! Thank you!! I love all of it!”

When Yoseob finished coloring a full-paged picture of a green leopard, Doojoon rolled into another driveway and stopped.

“What the ?” he whispered to himself.

Yoseob became intrigued by Doojoon’s language. He knew that that meant something was wrong or out of place. He peered out of his car window, his orbs taking in his new environment… They had stopped at another house.

“Al… Alright. We’re here…” Doojoon announced to the boy. The duo left the vehicle and approached the door of this yellow and white house.

“Is this your new house, appa?” asked Yoseob.

“Uhhh…”

He wasn’t thinking about Yoseob’s inquiry. He was wondering why the hell Dongwoon was home. That morning, Doojoon found a note on the kitchen counter that Dongwoon wrote letting him know that he would be away for the whole weekend to “clear his mind” about the status of their ever-complicated relationship. And he was gone that morning…

…But his car was parked out front.

When both pairs of feet touched the porch, the door opened.

Dongwoon poked his blonde head out into the air, then his body. He saw Doojoon first and sobbed.

“Doo…” Dongwoon embraced the stupefied man and brought him as close as any two bodies could in a hug, “Baby I thought you left… and for good. Didn’t you get any of my calls? Why didn’t you answer them?” muttered the blonde. His voice was fragile, made of eggshells. His eyes were looking glasses.

“I didn’t bring my phone. I thought you left, too. Why are you still here?”

“I decided not to leave. I started to think this over and… Doojoon, we really need to talk about us.”

Doojoon’s eyes tangled with the boy’s sad ones. He didn’t say a word, because all he could think about was Junhyung’s hard eyes that carried the echoing threat of not seeing his baby again if he were to be in contact with “that ”. He thought he would be in the clear, since Dongwoon had planned to be gone.

Why did life hate him?

Yoseob sneezed… “’cuse me.”

Doojoon didn’t come alone? Dongwoon peered down at the spontaneous noise. His eyes bloated with light and his lips turned up into a gleeful smile when the biggest eyes he’d ever seen crawled up into his.

“Oh! You brought the baby!?” he exclaimed. Dongwoon dropped to his knees, “Hi, sweetheart! How are you?! I saw you in pictures, but now I finally get to meet you. Aren’t you are a doll…”

“Hello. My name is Yoon Yoseob. What’s yours?” the boy formally introduced with an appropriate bow, just the way Junhyung taught him.

Dongwoon made a strange, squealing noise.

“Oh my goodness, Joon!! He is an angel…! My name is Dongwoon, sweetie. You can call me ‘Woonie’, okay~? C’mon, let’s get you inside. It’s cold out here… Are you hungry?”

Dongwoon took Yoseob by the hand and lead him into his toasty home.

Doojoon stood outside, hallucinating.

He was having a staring contest with Junhyung’s eyes.

♥

(Friday night…)

Junhyung invited Kikwang over for dinner that night. It was a very awkward moment over the phone when he did. That itself was a red flag. What business did Junhyung have inviting Kikwang over for dinner out of the blue? What did he want? Maybe this was his way of saying he was lonely… Junhyung just didn’t come out and say things like that. He would disguise this cry for companionship with things like a dinner or a game like he had done in all the years they’d known one another. So Kikwang didn’t turn down the offer. He would be a fool to. He was missing Junhyung… Yoseob had gotten sick, he was working two jobs and always out and about. Junhyung needed someone to be there for him. This was his way of indirectly requesting such.

The dinner was delicious, as was everything that came out of Junhyung’s pots and pans. The pair of friends were now loosening up on his couch over a light, alcoholic beverage, recalling things from their university days. Good memories, bad memories, things that made them laugh and things that made their lips purse together. Though throughout the time of this reminiscing period, Kikwang couldn’t help but notice how many times Junhyung cut his eyes to the digital clock. He also could not help the nearer it got to the top of the hour -- 8:00 -- the less verbal Junhyung was becoming.

“Is everything alright, Jun? You’re not missing a show are you?” Kikwang teased.

Junhyung’s eyes did not remove themselves from the clock. He cupped his wine glass in a desperate clutch.

“It’s almost eight. Yoseob is supposed to be in bed by eight-thirty at the latest. He hasn’t called yet.”

“Oh… Well, Jun, he’s got time. I’m sure he’ll call--”

“What if Doojoon took off with him? What if Doojoon has no intentions of bringing him back? What if he and Yoseob and… and that blonde of his fall off the face of the earth and I can never reach him again? He’ll tell Yoseob all kinds of untrue things about me and raise him around that light-haired and tell him to call him ‘umma’ now. What if this was all apart of his plan all along? He can go virtually anywhere he wants with my baby. Then I will be by myself. I will have nothing.”

Junhyung hunched forward. Kikwang set his drink aside so that he could physically bring his friend back up.

“Junnie… Oh Junnie, that’s not even… He knows how much you love that baby. If Doojoon truly loves you and respects you as much as he claims -- and if he truly loves Yoseob and wants what’s best for him -- he wouldn’t even think of doing that to you. He would not dare.”

“I thought I knew him, but who knows what he’s capable of.”

Kikwang’s lips didn’t stop flinching until they formed a smile.

“Don’t sweat it. I am confident when I say you have nothing to worry about.”

Junhyung sighed… “I hope so, ‘cause if he tries to pull something like that, he’d better hope the authorities find him before I do,” he drank some of his beverage, “I’ll kill him and his .”

Kikwang chortled the most awkward chortle. He knew Junhyung enough to know that he wasn’t kidding.

“Do you know he’s staying at his house?” Junhyung questioned.

“What?”

“Yeah. Doojoon’s at his house. I called him recently. I was pouring my heart out to him, then I heard his smooth voice in the background calling Doojoon’s name.”

“Why would you send Yoseob--?”

“--It’s for my baby. Only for him. I want him to be happy, and if shoving my personal feelings over to the side and allowing him to see his appa will make him smile again, then so be it. But why did it have to come down to his? Our anniversary is this month. We would’ve been together for five years, but now I’m wondering how many of those five years were spent wholly with me. I don’t know what I did to deserve any of this. I was faithful to him -- to all of them -- I did anything and everything that they wanted. I would have never even thought to cheat on him. I would never disrespect him like that.”

“Would you ever retaliate?”

Junhyung mentally retracted himself from his innermost pool of intimate thoughts to register what his friend just spat.

“What?”

Kikwang calmly brought his glass to his lips. “He’s been cheating on you for however long. You wouldn’t go out and do the same to him? You would be even. It probably wouldn’t ‘count’ as cheating since you’re separated.”

Junhyung thought… “I’m not that kind of person. I really can’t see myself doing that in retaliation--”

“--Do you still love him then?”

And that was a question that could not be any more firm. It went unanswered, but only because Junhyung had been so shocked and shaken by such a concentrated “yes-or-no” question. He wasn’t anticipating his best friend to knock him out with something like this.

He wasn’t expecting him to hover his perfect lips over his own after asking that question, either.

In their new position, Kikwang was looking down into his best friend’s round eyes. Kikwang could’ve kissed him if he wanted, and he wanted to, but he swallowed this impulse and posed the question again.

“Do you love him, Jun?”

Junhyung watched his friend’s lips as he talked and then Kikwang did the same. They were heavenly things to regard. The latter suddenly closed his eyes, and those lips were en route to gently crash into Junhyung’s for an eager kiss… A kiss that would fork off into many and an imminent scenario that involved two sweaty bodies and two muddled minds. Junhyung hadn’t been touched passionately for more than a month, so to receive this special attention was accepted hurriedly by his body, but some power much higher than his own granted him the strength to bring his hands up and onto Kikwang’s shoulders to stop a colossal mess from being created.

“Kiki, no.”

“Why not?” Kikwang whined. He was frustrated. “Junnie. I’m tired of seeing you hurt like this. Over and over; it’s all the same! At least with me I’ll know that you will never hurt again. Never. Why do you refuse to see me?”

“Kiki,” their eyes dug deep into each other, “Listen… I would rather have my heart break a million times than to have something with you once and have that something fail. I’ve never had something so special with anyone than what we have, Kikwang. It’s so special and ear to me that I think that it’s not even worth the risk. If we put that on the line, I’m fearful that we’d never get it back. And I need you… I need you to help me get through this like you’ve always done. I love you. I truly do, but not like this. I can’t love you like this.”

“Because you still love him.”

Junhyung backed out of Kikwang’s eyes.

“You’ve never rambled on so… feverishly and so openly about a man before. And usually you weep for a month or so and move on. But he’s really touched you. You still love him… Don’t you?”

Kikwang was smiling lightly, hoping this would coax out the answer.

Junhyung looked down to the carpet… Then reflexively to the digital clock.

It was 8:17.

OAO I FINALLY PUT THIS ON HERE. UM, so I will add the other parts later. I will see how this story is received. 

FOR MY NOTES BB~~~ THIS STORY IS FOR YOU I LOVE YOU.

Thanks for reading~~