Daehyun opened the front door carefully and quietly. It was close to eleven at night when he walked into the house, tiptoeing past Taehyung’s room who asked for a glass of water in his sleep. What a strange child he was.

He looked into the kitchen to see it empty, nothing but the hum of the dishwasher as it warmed the plates in the final phase. Usually, Baekhyun would wait in the kitchen, no matter how late, until he saw Daehyun walk through the front door. But today, he abandoned the ritual, most likely still fuming over the fight they had last night.

“Why can’t you just consider it, Daehyun?” Baekhyun asked him, frustrated, that night. They had just come from viewing the building for a new restaurant, a nice place in a quiet side of downtown, just a couple of blocks away from businesses that surely needed somewhere to dine for lunch. The place was perfect, sure to bring in more money for the family, but Daehyun didn’t care for it, or expansion at all, and his defiance only annoyed Baekhyun. “You dismiss every idea I suggest.”

Daehyun sighed and rubbed his face. He didn’t feel like fighting tonight; he only wanted to rest his eyes and hope his husband would forget about everything, but he knew that was a pipedream. Once Baekhyun set his mind on something, he was determined to see the idea through. “I don’t dismiss every idea, baby.”

“You have never considered anything that I have ever suggested, and yet every one of your hair brained schemes gets to go through because of the ‘feel.’ The contemporary feel, the modern feel, whatever bull feel you think will somehow better the place!” Baekhyun mocked before leaving him in the kitchen. Daehyun could see the tears spring to his eyes before he left the room.

Daehyun slept in the guest room, not sleeping much, thinking about how maybe he was right, maybe he wasn’t taking Baekhyun’s ideas into consideration, too focused on his own desires to consider the man who sacrificed so much for the restaurant in the first place.

Now he crept up the stairs to his bedroom and opened the door to see Baekhyun pretending to sleep. Baekhyun slept on his back, mouth wide open, limbs thrown across the mattress, not in the elegant position he was currently in. Daehyun quickly removed his clothes, too tired to take a shower, and slid under the sheets and cuddled close to Baekhyun, whom emitted an extremely fake snore.

“You don’t even snore,” he said quietly, wrapping his arm around his husband’s chest and nestling his face into his neck. Baekhyun’s body tensed at his voice, but quickly relaxed. “Are you still mad at me?”

Baekhyun repositioned himself under Daehyun and sighed. “No, not really.”

“I’m sorry for not listening to you. I shouldn’t be so caught up in my own world that I ignore you,”

“I’m sorry for calling your ideas stupid,” Baekhyun murmured. “They’re not stupid, they’re just different sometimes.”

Daehyun his hair. “They’re stupid sometimes.” He whispered an ‘I love you’ into his neck and kissed him softly on his cheek.

Baekhyun turned around and kissed him for a while, appreciating the familiar taste of his lips, his rough palms Baekhyun’s back, the sound of Daehyun’s heart beating against his hand before pulling away. “I love you, too.”

Daehyun finished squeezing the lemon into his aioli, stirring vigorously until the sauce was well mixed. He grabbed a spoon and tasted it, checking the oil to lemon juice ratio. He spooned the sauce into a small bowl and placed it in front of Youngjae along with a few slices of fingerling potatoes he’d crisped in the oven. He gestured for the young waiter to taste it, awaiting his opinion. Youngjae took a potato and dipped it into the sauce, biting off a small piece and chewing carefully and thoughtfully.

“It’s good,” he said, finishing off the rest of the potato.

Daehyun grunted, “You don’t think there’s too much lemon juice in the aioli?”

“No, it’s good. Perfect, I’d say.”

Youngjae had worked at the restaurant for almost two months now, helping Jin serve food to the customers. He listened well and was extremely polite to the customers, earning huge tips from everyone. He memorized the entire menu and could explain each dish thoroughly and had excellent recommendations for each customer depending on their personal preferences. When Jin couldn’t work, Youngjae was always there to help.

The two sat at the counter after hours, deciding how best to revise the appetizer menu, crossing out the things that didn’t sell well, and adding the foods they thought would.

“I think that you should remove the fried lilac mozzarella sticks, and add the potatoes and aioli instead,” Youngjae suggested.

Daehyun frowned and turned the chalkboard menu towards him. “You don’t think the lilac mozzarella sticks give the restaurant a more modern feel?”

He sighed, “To be absolutely honest, sir, it tastes like fried potpourri.”

Daehyun erased the fried lilac mozzarella sticks from the board. “I’ll remove the mozzarella sticks, but in a week, just you wait and see how many people will want them.”

The two placed the menu back on the wall, and began cleaning up the rest of the restaurant. They discussed how Taehyung was doing in school, what the weather would be like, what happened on the latest episode of the Barefoot Contessa. “Well, I think it’s time for me to head home, it’s a long walk home,” Youngjae announced, wrapping his jacket around his arm.

“Wait, where’s your car?” Daehyun asked.

He looked up from tying his shoes. “It’s in the shop, it broke down a day or two ago. Apparently the poor car needs special parts that have to be ordered.”

Daehyun knitted his eyebrows in concern. “Well you can’t go alone; it’s dangerous out there, you might get attacked.”

Youngjae snorted, “You don’t think I’m menacing enough to scare the assailant away?”

“No, you’re too soft and pretty. I’m driving you home, nothing’s on TV tonight anyway,” Daehyun offered, grabbing the keys off the rack.

He smiled, “I’ll be fine, Mr. Jung. I took karate for at least a year; I’ll be prepared.”

Daehyun took him by the shoulders and led him to his car. “Don’t tell Jin this, but you’re my favorite, and I can’t let anything bad happen to you.”

The two listened to the radio for a while, making snide remarks about the music playing. Eventually Daehyun switched the station to the oldies station where “Just the Two of Us” began playing. A glow encompassed Daehyun as he sang along to Bill Withers’ smooth voice, remembering the first night he met his husband at the bar.

Youngjae snickered at his boss’ very spirited rendition of the song. “You’re very passionate about this song, aren’t you?”

“This is Baekhyun’s favorite song. We sung this together when we first met each other in college.”

“You should’ve been a singer,” he complimented.

Daehyun groaned, “My parents wouldn't allow that. It was either go to business school or be kicked out the house.”

“You have a business degree?”

“Yep," Daehyun said as he switched lanes, “I earned a terribly boring degree in marketing. Worked at a job for eleven miserable years before I got the hell out of there.” Daehyun thought about all the things he wanted to when he was younger. Singer, dancer, actor, writer, anything that tickled his fantasy. But his parents were afraid he would become the classic starving artist, never achieving greatness in his life, and, most importantly, not having a career to brag to their friends about, so the Jungs pushed their son into the business world, a dull world to their son, but safe and secure nonetheless.  

“My parents did the same thing.” Youngjae stopped to adjust the sleeves of his shirt before beginning again. “I wanted to be a singer, spent all my grade school years in various choirs, but my parents wanted singing to remain a hobby. My father found me filling out an application to a music school, snatched it out of my hands. Slapped me and every dream I had of becoming a musician out of me. Now I’m a retired engineer at twenty-five.”

Daehyun came to a red light and looked at the young man staring out the window. He could tell the young man was tense; his lips were pursed together, fists tightly closed, eyes focused on the scenery out the window. He wrapped one of his hands around one of Youngjae’s fist. “It’s okay. Things don’t always go the way we want.”

The two sat in strained silence for a while, listening to the soft music on the radio before Youngjae finally spoke again in a weak voice. “It took you eleven years to leave your job?”

Daehyun sighed, “It took me eleven years to realize that I needed to stop living someone else’s dream for me. I was making money, sure, but I wasn’t happy. Couldn’t spend time with my family, stayed late almost every day to work on some ty project, was always stressed out, and for what? Some ridiculous job?”

Daehyun drove a little while longer, trying to find the right words to ease Youngjae’s rigid form. He couldn’t stand to see the boy so upset.

“When you’re young,” he began, Youngjae’s knuckles with his thumb, “people always ask what you see yourself doing at twenty-five, and what do you answer with? Some answer about how you’ll be a doctor or scientist or something, how you’ll have everything figured out. But sometimes you get to twenty-five, and nothing’s what you expected it be. You’re still allowed to be confused and you’re still allowed to explore the world around you. I had a husband and a two year old at twenty-five, and barely knew what do with my life. Don’t beat yourself up for not knowing everything, it will be all right.”

Daehyun finally pulled up to Youngjae’s apartment complex where Youngjae thanked him for the ride home and began to get out the car before stopping and sitting on the edge of the car seat.

“Are you happy, Mr. Jung?” he asked, his back still turned to him.

Daehyun thought about how much he loved his son, and how much he loved Baekhyun, and how grateful he was for his life, how every piece of the puzzle seemed to fall into place.

“Yes, very much so.”

And as he drove away, Youngjae wiped the tears away with his sleeve, thinking about his boss’ words, appreciating how much Daehyun cared for him, and finally accepting how foolishly in love he was with Daehyun.    

      this chapter i had to rewrite this thing like 40 times i hope you like it