“We’re all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness—and call it love—true love.”
Rob Fulghum, True Love

*

Kim Joonmyeon wakes up to rays of sunshine peeking through the white curtains. It’s nice, he thinks. One of the upsides of living in the suburbs is the privilege to wallow in peaceful mornings with the relaxing sound of birds singing in the background, as opposed to the blaring sounds of police siren or car horn one must get accustomed to in the city. Kim Joonmyeon appreciates quietness. Working as a head chef in his own restaurant provides the 36-year-old male all the frenzy he can handle on a daily basis.

Joonmyeon is about to move to stretch his limbs when a long, muscular arm falls on top of his tummy. He smiles and turns his head to his left only to meet a pair of sleepy eyes staring lovingly at him. The same pair of eyes he’s been blessed to wake up to for the past eighteen years, the eyes that always radiates so much love even when it’s mixed with other emotions. I could stare into those eyes until the end of time, Joonmyeon marvels in silence.

“What are you thinking about?” The voice sounds a little gruff, and Joonmyeon feels a little shy that his heart still skips a beat at something so frivolous. He hears that voice all day every day, and yet there he is, feeling like a teenager all over again.

“Hmm?” Joonmyeon replies. The hand that was on his tummy has made its way to his cheek and soon Joonmyeon feels a calloused thumb caressing affectionately.

A long finger taps on Joonmyeon’s nose. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

“Yifan…” Joonmyeon whines and scrunches his nose, making the other man chuckle.

“Good morning, love,” Yifan cradles Joonmyeon’s face and plants a gentle peck on his forehead. Joonmyeon’s heart skips a beat for the second time that morning. He feels so overwhelmingly warm and fuzzy inside and he cannot find his voice to respond. So instead, he buries his face in the crook of Yifan’s neck to inhale the scent in hopes of calming himself down.

___

Wu Yifan considers himself incredibly blessed and he finds something to be grateful about with each day that goes by. Born and raised in a long line of wealthy families, all his life he’s never had to worry about money. But there’s not enough money in the world could ever amount to the true gems in his life: his family. All that wealth means nothing compared to you, the 40-year-old thinks as he gently his hand up and down the back of the smaller man in his arms.

Yifan hears a murmur of ‘good morning’ in his ear as he feels Joonmyeon’s breath on the skin of his neck. He feels grateful once again for having met his one true love. Every time he stares into Joonmyeon’s expressive eyes and every time he holds Joonmyeon close like this, he is reminded of how lucky he is. I must’ve saved a country in my past life, he chuckled inwardly.

Yifan suddenly turns and hovers over Joonmyeon’s frame, ignoring the squeal emitted by the younger man. Even with an extra few pounds added, Joonmyeon is still light as ever. He smirks and Joonmyeon can clearly see the teasing glint in his husband’s eyes.

“What’s gotten you all shy this early in the morning? Does my Joonie wanna have a little fun?”

Two can play at this game, Joonmyeon muses. “Well, Mr Wu, I had a nice long sleep last night and I feel so recharged. I’m up for anything,” he says whisperingly and s his hip slightly towards Yifan’s. Joonmyeon knows Yifan like the back of his own hand, he knows Yifan can’t contain himself when Joonmyeon is being this way.

“You play dirty, Wu Joonmyeon,” Yifan proceeds to nibble Joonmyeon’s thin lips. Wu Joonmyeon. The younger never legally changed his surname to Wu, but when that name comes out of his husband's mouth, he feels a surge of electricity rush through his body. It’s not long before Joonmyeon gives in and opens his mouth to allow Yifan to work wonders with his tongue.

Unfortunately, fate sometimes likes to play jokes on people, and fate decides that luck won’t be on their side this morning. Joonmyeon’s tank top sits high on his chest as Yifan peppers kisses on his belly when they hear hurried steps coming closer. The married couple hold their breath, and soon after, wild incessant knocks can be heard through the door, echoing all around their large bedroom. The married couple know better than to ignore it. This happens almost every morning and it means one thing and one thing only…

“Appa! Baba! Hellooo?”

“Well, it was nice while it lasted,” Yifan sighs as he pulls down the hem of his husband’s top. Joonmyeon can only offer an empathetic smile in return. He takes a couple of deep breaths and rubs his face and hair with both hands.

The knocking finally stops, followed with a small yet determined, “May I come in, please?” Yifan grins at the politeness. He and Joonmyeon taught their child well.

A second later, the wooden door clicks open, revealing a mop of jaded black hair and a pair of wide, curious eyes look up at them. Neither Yifan nor Joonmyeon has the chance to say good morning because all of a sudden a loud “Kyaaa~” is heard and the little tyke practically flies and lands on top of the fluffy comforter. Joonmyeon wonders how a small being can have that much power to move their king-size bed.

“Good mwornin’, Baba!” the 4-year-old crawls closer to Yifan and gives him a kiss on the lips.

“And good mwornin’, Appa!” he throws a toothy smile at Joonmyeon and flops onto Joonmyeon’s lap before settling himself and kisses his Appa’s lips. He’s an affectionate child, just like his parents, and Joonmyeon hopes it will stay that way forever because God forbid in a blink of an eye the child will become a teenager and think touching his parents gives him germs.

“Did you sleep well, Sehun-ah?” Joonmyeon asks while patting his son’s head to smooth out his unruly bed hair.

“Mm-hmm! I slept like a log, Appa!” Sehun cheerfully says. Yifan laughs heartily. Their son must’ve heard it somewhere for him to talk like that. Or maybe he’s just an old soul, much like his Baba.

“Do you remember what day it is today?” Yifan grabs Sehun’s little feet and plays with them; something he’s been doing ever since Sehun was a baby.

An excited gasp fills the air. “That’s right! I’m gunna school this day! Real school now! No more play school, Baba! Right, Appa?”

It’s Joonmyeon’s turn to laugh, “Yes, sweetheart. You’re going to have your first day at kindergarten today. Are you excited?”

“I am sho essited!” Sehun waves his chubby hands, his lisp noticeable due to overexcitement.

“Hyungie says I will meet new frwends, and I meet new teachers, and I get to wear a unifrom! It’s yellow, like the sun! ‘Smy favorite color!” Sehun is out of breath by the time he’s finished telling his parents the things he’s excited about for the big day.

“Yes, champ. You’ll be wearing uniform, not unifrom,” Yifan smiles tenderly.

“Appa, can you please help me bathe? So I can wear my pretty unifoam?” Sehun turns to Joonmyeon, looking ever so joyful that his eyes are blinking rapidly. Joonmyeon squeals inside at the cute little guy in his lap. Despite his shyness to strangers, Sehun is a talkative kid around