The Three Cupcakes (9/?) Part Two (1)
Title: The Three Cupcakes (9/?) Part Two (1)
Pairing(s): 2Jun (Family!2JunSeob)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 7,588
Summary: Doojoon makes a big mistake. Junhyung can’t take it anymore. Yoseob is caught in the middle.
A/N: Post too fucking large.
(A lovely picture by deemonic~ IT IS BEAUTEOUS, NO? Thank you, bb~~~)Previous: The Three Cupcakes (9/?) Part One
So since Kiki didn’t mind, Junhyung traveled across the street and back into his home. He considerately prepared overnight bags for him and Seob, and also brought along a can of chicken broth for the soup for lunch and a few vegetables he thought Kikwang wouldn’t have. With the sun absent in the grey sky, and the lights no longer functioning, the house was choked with darkness. His eyes sliced about in this darkness. A sick feeling eased into his gut, and for ambiguous reasons… Junhyung had to get out of there.
Upon returning, Junhyung and Kikwang retreated into the kitchen to get started on the scrapped soup. They assembled enough vegetables and enough meat to put together a decent afternoon meal, Junhyung showing budding culinary artist Kiki a thing or two.
“So whenever your date comes over, now you’ll know how to make just more than cupcakes and frappes,” Junhyung commented with a soft smile. Kiki responded with a gentle tint of blush…
“What if he likes my cupcakes and frappes?” he smartly retorted. Junhyung laughed.
“Trust me. That doesn’t last too long,” that same tiny smile fought to become larger, “I remember bringing cupcakes for Joon all the time, but after a while, he wanted food. And lots of it.”
“Thus you started cooking more. That’s why you’ve gotten so good,” Kikwang cast his eyes to the floating carrot slices, “you have someone to cook for. I’m not going to cook a big, extravagant meal if it’s just me all the time… which it is…”
Jun turned his head, observing whatever emotions he could by the side of his friend’s sweet face. There were concealed feelings tucked between those lines.
“I guess I’ll keep making those small meals for when Seobie comes over.”
“……Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, Jun.”
“An’ you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
Kikwang bent his eyebrows.
“……Okay?”
“Do you have feelings for me still?”
If Kikwang had been nibbling on something, he would’ve surely choked when hit with that unexpected question. Their eyes connected, Junhyung’s receptive, Kikwang’s brown and vulnerable. His lips slowly peeled apart. Then he looked down. He turned to the soup. He was stirring stiffly.
“…Deep down-all the way down, underneath everything-yes, I do, un… unfortunately,” he finally sputtered out, after pausing a number of times, “a-and I know I shouldn’t feel for you like that. I know. I still have to tell myself this, but… it’s hard. It’s been several years of this-f-feeling this way for you consistently,” Kikwang swallowed hard again, “so they’re stubborn feelings to brush off for me. But I can’t use that as an excuse any longer. I’m gonna get through this. I have to. I-I can’t… hold myself back like this anymore. ‘Cause I’ve shut-n… nevermind.”
“Tell me.”
“I don’t think it’s appropriate.”
“Or is it ‘cause you feel afraid to say it?”
“…….”
Sensibly, Junhyung laid his hand on Kikwang’s right shoulder, the one furthest from him. Kikwang was notably moved…
“I can feel that you want to say it. I feel it sitting on your chest. Jus’ go ahead and tell me,” Jun coaxed, “It’s for you. This is for you.”
Kikwang knew that. Indeed, this was to free him. For years had he allowed these unrestrained emotions for his best friend rule his stagnant love life. Kikwang elicited a faulty breath. His lashes stuttered with fluttering, as his eyes softened with the liquid that gradually glossed them. Though with a few blinks, his eyelids swept the water back into their ducts. He stirred, twisting the spoon loosely.
“I… I get the nicest people that want to date me nearly all the time, and I turn every one of them away from me, b-because I still foolishly think that maybe one day… one day… I could have you. And even during the other relationships you’ve had-including the one with Doojoon-I felt the same way, that I would eventually have you. And I didn’t want anyone else but you. But… just recently… I realized that the relationship you have with Doojoon is… so different, and so much more intimate than the relationships you’ve had in the past. You’ve got a baby now, a family. You’re truly, truly in love with him… and you’re so happy, and I’m entirely happy for you. It’s just been hard for me to accept that my wishing and hoping to have something with you will never and can never come to past… I’ve had this vision for so long, it’s almost impossible to imagine anything else. But I have to if I really want to let go of you, ‘cause you’ve been in my heart for too long. An’ it’s startin’ to really, really hurt.”
And Junhyung was getting his first glimpses of that… A fresh tear stain streaked down Kikwang’s right cheek. He hastily angled himself away from the soup to hide it from Junhyung, and to destroy the stain with his wrist. It did it no good. Another one formed in its place. He stifled his cries well, muttering a compact, “Sorry,” to his friend as he dried his warm cheeks with his hands.
Junhyung took a step forward, a step closer to Kikwang. He enveloped him in a sincere, comforting, friendly back hug. The hug consoled Kikwang, the warmth leaving Jun and driving him insane with its heat. The tears dried, the atmosphere normalized, and Kikwang was composed.
“I just have to move on…” he said quietly, moreover to himself, “That’s all. Easier said than done, yeah?”
“I know all about that…… but, I hope one day… you’ll be liberated from those feelings, so you may fully open yourself and your heart to others. Because I’ve seen-I see that whole part of you, and it’s entirely beautiful, and gentle, and selfless. It should be shared with a special person-a special, worthy person-worthy of your heart.”
Kikwang let out a little laugh, “You make it sound like I’m some kinda princess.”
“Well? You’re special, Kiki. I’ve never come across a heart like yours. It’s different… I want you to be happy and whole… and I know you will be happy. You just have to let yourself be happy, and accept whoever it is that wants to give you everything. You deserve every bit of happiness and love, an’… I pray fate brings someone to you and gives you all that. I know someone will.”
Kikwang grinned sweetly, his lips lightening the mood.
“Thanks, Junnie… Me too…”
“And if they don’t, I’ll skin them.”
And he was terribly serious.
Even with Kikwang’s momentary negligence, the brew came together quite nicely. The three were gathered around the table. A small meal caused for small talk.
“Seobie show Kiki your smile,” Junhyung instructed, “but swallow your food first.”
Yoseob swallowed his spoonful, then smiled, watching Kikwang’s expression change.
“Ohhh! Your tooth! What happened?!”
“At breakfast I bited a apple and it come out.”
“It didn’t hurt did it?” asked Kiki, concerned.
“Nope. It just have a lot of blood.”
“Gracious… How did I not notice it before? Were you scared?”
Seobie shook his head, returning to his soup.
“Yeah, he was pretty calm during the whole thing. I guess it’s because he knows about the visit from the tooth fairy,” included Junhyung.
“I get a present from fairy noona when I go to bed at nighttime, Kiki. Right, umma?”
“That’s right.”
Kikwang cracked a widespread smile.
“And are you excited about that~?”
“Uh huh! I wanna see her.”
“She doesn’t come if you’re lookin’ for her, Seob. She’s shy. You have to be asleep. Just like with Santa,” said Junhyung, with a wise arch in his eyebrow. Yoseob squinted his eyes as if to challenge umma’s words, but he knew much better than that. Besides, umma always turned up to be right.
The tooth talk continued after lunch over the sink. Junhyung was lathering the used bowls and other varied dishes with scented subs and water with Kikwang at his left, rinsing them.
“Seobie’s first tooth, huh?” asked Kikwang, “the gap makes him cuter.”
“It’d been bothering him for a while, so I told him not to touch it. Then I kind of forgot about it until this morning. His friend Seungho lost his tooth one day in class some days back and that’s all he was talking about the way home. Now he has his own tooth. It’s Seobie’s first one, but it won’t be his last tooth, though. He’s gonna keep losing ‘em and losing ‘em, and then the next thing I know he’s gonna have a mouth full of adult teeth. And he’ll be… hell, twelve I think,” Junhyung threw back his head, “Ugh. Twelve.”
“Not necessarily umma’s baby anymore.”
“Oh. He’ll always be my baby, with baby and adult teeth. They never really grow up. You’ll see what I mean when you get one…” Junhyung relaxed with a short sigh, “I wish Doojoon could’ve been there, you know, to see it. It’s his first tooth. That’s… special.”
“He may not have been there for the first tooth, but he’ll be there for the rest to come. And for the last one. That’s even more special, don’t you think?”
Junhyung stretched the right edge of his lips upward, forming a trademark smirk.
“Yeah………… I just miss him… and I’m tired of missing him. I don’t think I can keep missing him for another fifty-seven days, but I mean, what else can I do? I can’t help him. Shit, the doctor can’t even help him. All I can do is just… keep waiting. I have to keep waiting, keep working, keep paying bills, keep going for Seob an’… everything’s still goin’ to hell in a hand basket. They’re times when I’m exhausted and when I wanna give up, but I can’t. I have to keep moving. I have to keep Seobie happy. I have to do everything, ‘cause if I don’t, no one else will. That’s how it’s always been.”
“And aren’t you tired of it being that way, Junhyung? Aren’t you tired of doing everything on your own?”
Junhyung’s stone silence was his agreement. He passed Kikwang a sudsy dish.
“It doesn’t have to be hard. Junnie, you make things hard for yourself, and they don’t have to be. You have a community of people that are literally waiting for you to reach out to them so they can help you, but you always refuse. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness. So let go of this mentality that, ‘Oh, if I ask for help then that means I’m weak,’ or, ‘People won’t see me as strong.’ Jun I’ve already told you: you’re the strongest person I know. Requesting help doesn’t change my tough-guy view of you at all…” Kikwang grinned to himself, then to Junhyung, “You’re still Junnie. Though, a much softer Junnie now.”
Hell, the man made cupcakes for a living. But it was the truth.
Dishes were done… Junhyung returned back to the sofa, a wobbly Seobie at his heels.
“Sleepy?” umma asked.
Yoseob bobbed his head, the backs of his hands rubbing his eyes. It was close to his mid-afternoon naptime, anyway, and ice skating wore him out, no doubt. The soup was doing him in. He climbed into Junhyung’s lap, lying sideways against umma’s body, his noggin on Jun’s upper chest. He was embraced and kissed.
“Umma might take a nap, too. He’s tired…”
He tentatively rocked the boy from side to side in his arm basket… A sweet sense of serenity was born in the air. Everything could be going to the pits, but the most important thing to Junhyung was his child. That’s all that mattered to him. If everything was right with Yoseob, everything was right in his world.
Umma’s own rocking got himself drowsy. His blood flow slowed, his eyelids felt weighted, and a heavenly buzz made everything warm. He dozed off with Yoseob in a tender transition into sleep…
Kikwang walked in on the toothsome scene. He scavenged up a blanket, shook it out, and cloaked the pair with it. And then off to work he went…
Junhyung opened his eyes. He was floating in whiteness. This was his white world that he shared with Doojoon. He knew he was in a dream.
Doojoon was suspended above him, and closely. He levitated. They were literally nose-to-nose. He was not smiling. Where was his smile?
Junhyung had never seen him like this before. He tried to reach out to touch him, but he could not command his arm. He could not command anything. He was bound.
Blood began seeping through both corners of Doojoon’s eyes. It dripped and splattered onto Junhyung’s face, his cheeks, his lips. They felt like they were composed of acid, because his pores screamed for mercy.
Doojoon was expressionless towards the man beneath him.
The blood flowed like cream. Thinning, thickening. Painting, destroying Junhyung’s vanishing skin.
It fucking hurt.
Junhyung jumped into consciousness in a light sweat. His heart thrashed as if it desired to end its torture and tear itself out of his being altogether. Each breath was shallow, not enough to make up for the last.
What in hell was that? He could still very much feel his lover’s blood eating his skin layer by layer. It shook Jun up, and my, it took very much to discombobulate him. But… after going so long without a dream of Doojoon, why that one?
Winter was upon them. The sun retired hours early than in the spring and summer months. Everything was dark in Kikwang’s main room. He took off for his late afternoon shift at the shop hours ago, before Junhyung’s nap with Yoseob.
Junhyung gasped. Yoseob was not in his lap. Yoseob was gone.
“Yoseob?” he called out. He was met with silence. Junhyung snapped to his feet. He called the boy’s name as he traveled to every Yoseob-accessible compartment in the house. No response. He staggered back to the main room, quaking. Yoseob didn’t simply disintegrate. He didn’t simply vibrate his molecules at such a speed that he up and poofed out of existence. Junhyung knew that for a fact. And so he panicked. That dream must have kept him firmly within his mental world and robbed him of all of his outward senses, because he would have unmistakably felt Yoseob wiggle out of his lap when he did. There was no challenging that.
…
……
…
But… what if Yoseob didn’t leave on his own accord? What if someone took him? A stranger? A thief? A pedophile? One of Doojoon’s relatives? That final thought drove an already wired Junhyung to the very brim of madness when a chilly breath of winter caressed his cheek. Junhyung turned slowly to look to the main door. It was open. Not wide open, but open enough to hint that a body had come through. It’s been open for a while: snow had flown itself inside, and a puddle formed. In fact, the temperature throughout the house had dropped a handful of degrees, and Kikwang definitely had the heater running.
Yoseob had been gone-taken, stolen-for a while. Who knows what could’ve become of his baby. Junhyung didn’t want to stand around entertaining the scenarios.
Junhyung thrust himself into the cold. It was still light out. It was snowing. Pastel oranges and pinks were being eaten by midnight blue up above.
“YOSEOB?” Junhyung bellowed from the doorstep, with his eyes bloated and his lips quivering.
Nothing.
He ventured beyond that spot, stumbling out into the road. He looked both ways, searching for any sign of his child.
“YOSEOB?”
Quietness.
Junhyung’s heart vibrated with such rapidity it seemed as if it stopped.
“YOON YOSEOB!?”
“Umma?”
Junhyung ripped his head up. Seobie stood about four meters away, snow in his hand. He was standing adjacent to a huge pile of growing snow he’d probably been hauling, and for at least ten minutes. Junhyung sprinted to the child, tumbling to his knees, dragging them through the snow. Jun snatched Yoseob by his arms; the boy stumbled.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU ANSWER ME THE FIRST TIME?”
“I did’n hear you, umma…”
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE BY YOURSELF?”
“It’s snowing… I come outside to play in the snow-”
“BY YOURSELF?”
“Kiki house is not far-”
“SEOBIE-” Junhyung closed his eyes, and he swallowed very, very slow, and he inhaled and exhaled to flatten his tone, “Seobie… It doesn’t matter how far away or how close Kikwang’s house is, our house is, or anyone’s house is… You never go anywhere without umma knowing where you are. What if something happened to you, baby? What if a bad person hurt you? Or I couldn’t find you!?”
Yoseob read Junhyung’s face intelligently. He saw umma’s rounded eyes become these polished, brown stones and his lips tremble and shiver. And he saw his eyebrows struggle up in a concerned fashion. And the grip on his little arms was so tight and strong. Umma was honestly scared.
“Are you mad, umma…?”
Mad wasn’t the word. Terrorized was more like it. Junhyung enfolded Yoseob with his entire being, bearing the strength of an octopus and the clingy adhesiveness of a ceramic wrap.
“I’m not mad, Seob, I was scared. You scared umma. Don’t ever do this again, Yoseob. Please. I don’t need to be worryin’ about you. It’s too cold outside and it’s almost too dark to be playing at this hour. I don’t want you to get sick…”
“I’m sorry, umma…. I’m sorry. I ask next time… I promise.”
“That’s what I wanna hear. Now I need to go to the market to get some food for our dinner tonight, and since Kiki’s not home, you’re coming with me.”
“Yay!”
Junhyung joined hands with the boy and led him under the roof. He examined the boy’s outfit. He dressed himself well enough for the weather-just as umma would-but even with his mittens on, his little palm was icy.
♥
“What’s the big rule about going to the market?”
“No touching.”
“And what else?”
“And follow umma.”
“Always?”
“Always follow umma.”
“Good. Take my hand.”
The market has always been a crowded, congested place. However, during the winter months, much of the available produce was low. Consequently, there weren’t a lot of people shouting orders and amounts and breathing down each other’s necks. It was busy enough to easily lose a Seobie, so Junhyung gripped his small hand tight.
Whatever was available, though, Junhyung snatched it up, and for a bargained price. He didn’t need very much since he would be making spaghetti. A few herbs, a handful of tomatoes, a head of lettuce, and he would have enough for Kikwang, himself, and Yoseob. There was angel hair pasta at home. It wasn’t spaghetti pasta, but it’d have to do. Noodles were noodles.
Junhyung led Seobie through the different, individual stands. He was a good boy in listening to the elder’s orders. He just listened and watched, listened and watched. He didn’t touch a single thing whilst umma negotiated.
Actually…… not quite.
…
“Umma!”
“Yeah?”
Junhyung dipped his eyes low to bring his attention to his son. Three healthy, melon-pink tulips smiled right back. Seobie hopped, “These yours.”
Junhyung let his jaw fall, “Seobie, where did you get those from?”
“From the flower place.”
There was a tiny booth of flowers adjacent to a legume stand Yoseob and umma parked at minutes ago. The beautiful blossoms effortlessly gripped the boy’s round eyes. He couldn’t take the whole bouquet, so he plucked a few flowers from a single bouquet of pink tulips that he liked the best before umma tugged him along. Appa got umma flowers. He wanted to give him flowers, too.
Junhyung pulled the boy aside and out of the way of others. He knelt down.
“What did I tell you about keeping your hands to yourself? I told you not to touch anything, didn’t I?”
“Yes…”
Junhyung grabbed the flowers stems, slipping them out of Yoseob’s little hand. He held them up to the boy’s face.
“Umma didn’t pay money for these,” he dearly, calmly scolded, “you can’t take things umma didn’t pay for. That’s called stealing, and you can get in trouble. You don’t want to get in trouble, do you?”
“No.”
Junhyung peered to his incomplete bouquet. He peered to his gentleman Seobie. A small, warm grin ruffled the still line on Jun’s mouth. He stole these beautiful flowers for him. It was definitely the thought that counted.
“But they’re very pretty flowers, Seobie… Thank you.”
Yoseob saw umma smile at his flowers, and at him, and that made him feel loads better about his innocent thievery. Jun stained Seobie’s cheeks with bullet kisses, craning him off the ground and into his arms.
♥
Once home, Junhyung and Yoseob began immediately on dinner. They orderly rounded everything together first, certainly after washing their hands as Yoseob reminded. Junhyung put Yoseob in charge of mashing the tomatoes to make the puree-“I stir like this, umma?”-while he expertly cooked the ground meat and boiled the pasta. Together they peeled the leaves of lettuce to prepare the salad. Yoseob had a very good, inherent grasp on how small the pieces needed to be. Measurement skills were a must-have for any fledgling cook.
“You’re gonna be better than umma one day,” Junhyung said to him. Seobie smiled. He took that to his little heart.
Kikwang came home to the wondrous aroma of a home-cooked meal. He arrived at just the right time.
“What in the world happened in here~?”
Yoseob hopped up to the man, piping, “Me and umma make sp’ghetti!”
“Is that what smells so good?”
Junhyung snickered, “Yep. We waited till you came home to eat. So hurry and wash up.”
Kikwang and Yoseob sat to the itty table. Umma arranged all of their plates and glasses. They said grace, and then dug in. The preschooler was a connoisseur in spaghetti-eating.
“You stick the fork in like that. Then you twist it a lot times, then you pull it out like this. That’s how you get a lot. You see me, Kiki?”
“Yes, I see you. And you’ve got a lot on your fork! Can you even eat it all?”
“Uh-huh. Watch-”
“Yoseob. Don’t put all of that in your mouth. You might choke.”
Yoseob lowered his fork after shaking some of the noodles off, “Yes, umma.”
Kikwang smirked to his friend, “You did a fantastic job, Jun-and you, too, Seob. It’s really good.”
“Thanks. Of course it is.”
“Would you mind showing me how to make it one day?”
“Not at all. It’s not hard, really.”
“Then hopefully I can get it right on the first try.”
“And if you don’t, we’ll just keep trying. Maybe the house won’t burn down.”
Kikwang hooted, stabbing his dry salad.
“You’re so funny, Jun.”
Everybody thoroughly enjoyed dinner. Instead of only two present, it made umma fuzzy in the heart to have a third in their company. Three was a stable number for him, and Seobie chatted away, loving the company of a third body. It wasn’t his appa, but having someone else other than Junhyung to talk to was a nice feeling. That number would shrink back to two very soon, for umma had scheduled a shift at the bureau he worked part-time for. Any opportunities where he could earn a little extra he took advantage of. But since it involved the bureau, he did not do so out of delight.
Soon after dinner, Junhyung dolled up in what Seob liked to call “special clothes.”
“Umma where you going?”
“I have to go to work, sweetheart.”
Yoseob scrutinized Junhyung’s ensemble. He was not dressed for a shift at his bakery. He was clothed in a dress shirt and black slacks. Fancy umma.
“When you come back?”
“The morning.”
“Again?” he groaned. He’d been pulling this stunt for almost a few consecutive weeks, so he knew this routine. Junhyung fell to his knees before his son, grinning and patting his fine hair.
“Yeeeah, again, I know. But I’ll be back in the morning. You’ll find me in the morning. Be good for Kikwang. Don’t give him any trouble.”
“’kay,” the boy dejected.
“Don’t pout,” Junhyung’s lips pursed, “gimme kiss.”
Yoseob matched umma’s lips, and meaningfully pushed them onto his mouth. There were “I love you”s and hugs, and Yoseob and Kikwang saw the man out the door.
“Goodnight, umma.”
♥
At the bureau, a layered cake of spreadsheets awaited Junhyung on the desk of his cubical. They were needed to be recorded and individually tucked into the database. It would take them indeed all of his night shift. It was grunt work. No one else wanted to do it, so Junhyung-financially in a tight spot-grudgingly volunteered to do the monotonous work.
When he arrived, he was the only soul in the workspace. That was a good thing, because he already didn’t want to be there, and if he had to deal with anyone else’s additional, obnoxious keystrokes he would go into hysterics. Jun counted on a cup of coffee and some high-energy snacks to keep his head from colliding with the keyboard.
Junhyung dropped himself in the most comfortable chair on Earth. He set up his area, neatly placing his snacks and beverage in their usual places. Then there was a thud. Something had fallen to the floor. Jun instantly froze as if struck with lightning. Did he break something? He prayed he didn’t break anything belonging to the bureau. That would be another expense he didn’t need. With prayers in his lungs, Junhyung glanced to the floor.
Oh. It was his picture frame that tumbled. He reached down and pinched its side. It was his favorite picture with his lover. The picture was taken after Doojoon sampled all of his cupcakes. He was preparing to leave, but the man requested that he take a picture with Sweet Yong’s quiet, charming owner. They stood side by side, their bodies sharing a comfortable space and body heat. Doojoon was to his right. He’d planted his left hand on Jun’s left shoulder and gave his sweetheart smile to the photographer while Junhyung grinned bashfully. It was their first picture together… And neither knew it at the time, but their future together began that exact moment. Junhyung’s lips upturned into a smile at the memory…
That man right there? There in that picture? What was his best friend. That was his lover, the person that made him the happiest, the whole-est. He was a gorgeous man. A sweet man.
He was Junhyung’s man.
That photo, for Junhyung, was magical. It served him many a times for when they had their awful days of passive arguing and fighting. Jun would be fuming-a ticking bomb-when he arrived at the bureau, but his eyes would gravitate to that black-framed picture, and his heart talked itself into calmness. He was fondly reminded of that day, and Doojoon’s not-so-sly-but-obvious flirting. He was reminded why he put up with the man, and he oftentimes wondered why the man put up with him. Yes, that was his Doojoon.
That was his man.
Junhyung propped the beloved picture atop his workspace with care. He and Doojoon met eyes innumerable times.
♥
The sun began to break through the early morning shade. The sharp, orange sunburst threatened to cut Junhyung’s dead eyes open like grapes. The work was done, Jun pulling through till the very last figure, till the very last celery stick, till the very last drop of his low decaf coffee. As his fingers spazzed over the number pad, the time blurred and interwove with space. He really didn’t keep track of the time. A watched pot never boils.
But he’d finished his work, and it was a quarter to seven. A snail-ish Junhyung logged out of his account, packed his things and headed out of the bureau. He was ready to get back to his baby.
As quiet as a mouse, Junhyung tipped back into his friend’s home. Kikwang and Yoseob were still asleep. That was a good thing. Seobie didn’t get his present from the “tooth fairy” yet. Junhyung purchased an extraordinary set of crayons from a drug store on his way to work in those twilight hours. Highlight “extraordinary,” because the company literally had to have captured all of the vivacious hues of the rainbow and packed them inside of a wide, yellow box.
All 120 of them. Why 120? Yoseob deserved more than just twenty-four crayons. On shopping trips, the boy’s orbs brightened at the 120-pack of colors, but he knew better than to ask umma if he could have them. Umma had other things to buy, so he went without his dream pack of crayons. Well? Junhyung decided he wouldn’t have to go without any longer. Plus, he’d never seen a five-year-old love coloring as much as Yoseob did.
Junhyung pulled open the door to the guest room he and the wee one share together. It didn’t creak. Yoseob was a hilariously-sprawled mess. He lay on his stomach with his limbs anchored out in all the cardinal directions. Jun snickered at the spectacle. Kikwang didn’t tuck him in tight enough.
Junhyung ticked alongside the bed on the ball of his toes, as to not wake Yoseob. He was trying so hard to keep his wobbly body still he was shaking. He didn’t want Yoseob to catch him. Jun lifted the pillow, delicately placed the gift atop the covers and jerked the pillow over it, all the while zoning his hawkish pupils on his napping child. His stealthiness paid off. Yoseob’s present was successfully delivered while he snoozed in ultimate contentment.
Junhyung did not wish to disrupt his boy’s sleep by joining him on the bed. He staggered back to the door, closed it, and disengaged, collapsing on Kikwang’s long sofa. Blackness welcomed umma Jun, lovingly embracing him into his magnificent void of unconscious, unceasing darkness.
Next: The Three Cupcakes (9/?) Part Two (2)
Pairing(s): 2Jun (Family!2JunSeob)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 7,588
Summary: Doojoon makes a big mistake. Junhyung can’t take it anymore. Yoseob is caught in the middle.
A/N: Post too fucking large.
(A lovely picture by deemonic~ IT IS BEAUTEOUS, NO? Thank you, bb~~~)Previous: The Three Cupcakes (9/?) Part One
So since Kiki didn’t mind, Junhyung traveled across the street and back into his home. He considerately prepared overnight bags for him and Seob, and also brought along a can of chicken broth for the soup for lunch and a few vegetables he thought Kikwang wouldn’t have. With the sun absent in the grey sky, and the lights no longer functioning, the house was choked with darkness. His eyes sliced about in this darkness. A sick feeling eased into his gut, and for ambiguous reasons… Junhyung had to get out of there.
Upon returning, Junhyung and Kikwang retreated into the kitchen to get started on the scrapped soup. They assembled enough vegetables and enough meat to put together a decent afternoon meal, Junhyung showing budding culinary artist Kiki a thing or two.
“So whenever your date comes over, now you’ll know how to make just more than cupcakes and frappes,” Junhyung commented with a soft smile. Kiki responded with a gentle tint of blush…
“What if he likes my cupcakes and frappes?” he smartly retorted. Junhyung laughed.
“Trust me. That doesn’t last too long,” that same tiny smile fought to become larger, “I remember bringing cupcakes for Joon all the time, but after a while, he wanted food. And lots of it.”
“Thus you started cooking more. That’s why you’ve gotten so good,” Kikwang cast his eyes to the floating carrot slices, “you have someone to cook for. I’m not going to cook a big, extravagant meal if it’s just me all the time… which it is…”
Jun turned his head, observing whatever emotions he could by the side of his friend’s sweet face. There were concealed feelings tucked between those lines.
“I guess I’ll keep making those small meals for when Seobie comes over.”
“……Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, Jun.”
“An’ you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
Kikwang bent his eyebrows.
“……Okay?”
“Do you have feelings for me still?”
If Kikwang had been nibbling on something, he would’ve surely choked when hit with that unexpected question. Their eyes connected, Junhyung’s receptive, Kikwang’s brown and vulnerable. His lips slowly peeled apart. Then he looked down. He turned to the soup. He was stirring stiffly.
“…Deep down-all the way down, underneath everything-yes, I do, un… unfortunately,” he finally sputtered out, after pausing a number of times, “a-and I know I shouldn’t feel for you like that. I know. I still have to tell myself this, but… it’s hard. It’s been several years of this-f-feeling this way for you consistently,” Kikwang swallowed hard again, “so they’re stubborn feelings to brush off for me. But I can’t use that as an excuse any longer. I’m gonna get through this. I have to. I-I can’t… hold myself back like this anymore. ‘Cause I’ve shut-n… nevermind.”
“Tell me.”
“I don’t think it’s appropriate.”
“Or is it ‘cause you feel afraid to say it?”
“…….”
Sensibly, Junhyung laid his hand on Kikwang’s right shoulder, the one furthest from him. Kikwang was notably moved…
“I can feel that you want to say it. I feel it sitting on your chest. Jus’ go ahead and tell me,” Jun coaxed, “It’s for you. This is for you.”
Kikwang knew that. Indeed, this was to free him. For years had he allowed these unrestrained emotions for his best friend rule his stagnant love life. Kikwang elicited a faulty breath. His lashes stuttered with fluttering, as his eyes softened with the liquid that gradually glossed them. Though with a few blinks, his eyelids swept the water back into their ducts. He stirred, twisting the spoon loosely.
“I… I get the nicest people that want to date me nearly all the time, and I turn every one of them away from me, b-because I still foolishly think that maybe one day… one day… I could have you. And even during the other relationships you’ve had-including the one with Doojoon-I felt the same way, that I would eventually have you. And I didn’t want anyone else but you. But… just recently… I realized that the relationship you have with Doojoon is… so different, and so much more intimate than the relationships you’ve had in the past. You’ve got a baby now, a family. You’re truly, truly in love with him… and you’re so happy, and I’m entirely happy for you. It’s just been hard for me to accept that my wishing and hoping to have something with you will never and can never come to past… I’ve had this vision for so long, it’s almost impossible to imagine anything else. But I have to if I really want to let go of you, ‘cause you’ve been in my heart for too long. An’ it’s startin’ to really, really hurt.”
And Junhyung was getting his first glimpses of that… A fresh tear stain streaked down Kikwang’s right cheek. He hastily angled himself away from the soup to hide it from Junhyung, and to destroy the stain with his wrist. It did it no good. Another one formed in its place. He stifled his cries well, muttering a compact, “Sorry,” to his friend as he dried his warm cheeks with his hands.
Junhyung took a step forward, a step closer to Kikwang. He enveloped him in a sincere, comforting, friendly back hug. The hug consoled Kikwang, the warmth leaving Jun and driving him insane with its heat. The tears dried, the atmosphere normalized, and Kikwang was composed.
“I just have to move on…” he said quietly, moreover to himself, “That’s all. Easier said than done, yeah?”
“I know all about that…… but, I hope one day… you’ll be liberated from those feelings, so you may fully open yourself and your heart to others. Because I’ve seen-I see that whole part of you, and it’s entirely beautiful, and gentle, and selfless. It should be shared with a special person-a special, worthy person-worthy of your heart.”
Kikwang let out a little laugh, “You make it sound like I’m some kinda princess.”
“Well? You’re special, Kiki. I’ve never come across a heart like yours. It’s different… I want you to be happy and whole… and I know you will be happy. You just have to let yourself be happy, and accept whoever it is that wants to give you everything. You deserve every bit of happiness and love, an’… I pray fate brings someone to you and gives you all that. I know someone will.”
Kikwang grinned sweetly, his lips lightening the mood.
“Thanks, Junnie… Me too…”
“And if they don’t, I’ll skin them.”
And he was terribly serious.
Even with Kikwang’s momentary negligence, the brew came together quite nicely. The three were gathered around the table. A small meal caused for small talk.
“Seobie show Kiki your smile,” Junhyung instructed, “but swallow your food first.”
Yoseob swallowed his spoonful, then smiled, watching Kikwang’s expression change.
“Ohhh! Your tooth! What happened?!”
“At breakfast I bited a apple and it come out.”
“It didn’t hurt did it?” asked Kiki, concerned.
“Nope. It just have a lot of blood.”
“Gracious… How did I not notice it before? Were you scared?”
Seobie shook his head, returning to his soup.
“Yeah, he was pretty calm during the whole thing. I guess it’s because he knows about the visit from the tooth fairy,” included Junhyung.
“I get a present from fairy noona when I go to bed at nighttime, Kiki. Right, umma?”
“That’s right.”
Kikwang cracked a widespread smile.
“And are you excited about that~?”
“Uh huh! I wanna see her.”
“She doesn’t come if you’re lookin’ for her, Seob. She’s shy. You have to be asleep. Just like with Santa,” said Junhyung, with a wise arch in his eyebrow. Yoseob squinted his eyes as if to challenge umma’s words, but he knew much better than that. Besides, umma always turned up to be right.
The tooth talk continued after lunch over the sink. Junhyung was lathering the used bowls and other varied dishes with scented subs and water with Kikwang at his left, rinsing them.
“Seobie’s first tooth, huh?” asked Kikwang, “the gap makes him cuter.”
“It’d been bothering him for a while, so I told him not to touch it. Then I kind of forgot about it until this morning. His friend Seungho lost his tooth one day in class some days back and that’s all he was talking about the way home. Now he has his own tooth. It’s Seobie’s first one, but it won’t be his last tooth, though. He’s gonna keep losing ‘em and losing ‘em, and then the next thing I know he’s gonna have a mouth full of adult teeth. And he’ll be… hell, twelve I think,” Junhyung threw back his head, “Ugh. Twelve.”
“Not necessarily umma’s baby anymore.”
“Oh. He’ll always be my baby, with baby and adult teeth. They never really grow up. You’ll see what I mean when you get one…” Junhyung relaxed with a short sigh, “I wish Doojoon could’ve been there, you know, to see it. It’s his first tooth. That’s… special.”
“He may not have been there for the first tooth, but he’ll be there for the rest to come. And for the last one. That’s even more special, don’t you think?”
Junhyung stretched the right edge of his lips upward, forming a trademark smirk.
“Yeah………… I just miss him… and I’m tired of missing him. I don’t think I can keep missing him for another fifty-seven days, but I mean, what else can I do? I can’t help him. Shit, the doctor can’t even help him. All I can do is just… keep waiting. I have to keep waiting, keep working, keep paying bills, keep going for Seob an’… everything’s still goin’ to hell in a hand basket. They’re times when I’m exhausted and when I wanna give up, but I can’t. I have to keep moving. I have to keep Seobie happy. I have to do everything, ‘cause if I don’t, no one else will. That’s how it’s always been.”
“And aren’t you tired of it being that way, Junhyung? Aren’t you tired of doing everything on your own?”
Junhyung’s stone silence was his agreement. He passed Kikwang a sudsy dish.
“It doesn’t have to be hard. Junnie, you make things hard for yourself, and they don’t have to be. You have a community of people that are literally waiting for you to reach out to them so they can help you, but you always refuse. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness. So let go of this mentality that, ‘Oh, if I ask for help then that means I’m weak,’ or, ‘People won’t see me as strong.’ Jun I’ve already told you: you’re the strongest person I know. Requesting help doesn’t change my tough-guy view of you at all…” Kikwang grinned to himself, then to Junhyung, “You’re still Junnie. Though, a much softer Junnie now.”
Hell, the man made cupcakes for a living. But it was the truth.
Dishes were done… Junhyung returned back to the sofa, a wobbly Seobie at his heels.
“Sleepy?” umma asked.
Yoseob bobbed his head, the backs of his hands rubbing his eyes. It was close to his mid-afternoon naptime, anyway, and ice skating wore him out, no doubt. The soup was doing him in. He climbed into Junhyung’s lap, lying sideways against umma’s body, his noggin on Jun’s upper chest. He was embraced and kissed.
“Umma might take a nap, too. He’s tired…”
He tentatively rocked the boy from side to side in his arm basket… A sweet sense of serenity was born in the air. Everything could be going to the pits, but the most important thing to Junhyung was his child. That’s all that mattered to him. If everything was right with Yoseob, everything was right in his world.
Umma’s own rocking got himself drowsy. His blood flow slowed, his eyelids felt weighted, and a heavenly buzz made everything warm. He dozed off with Yoseob in a tender transition into sleep…
Kikwang walked in on the toothsome scene. He scavenged up a blanket, shook it out, and cloaked the pair with it. And then off to work he went…
Junhyung opened his eyes. He was floating in whiteness. This was his white world that he shared with Doojoon. He knew he was in a dream.
Doojoon was suspended above him, and closely. He levitated. They were literally nose-to-nose. He was not smiling. Where was his smile?
Junhyung had never seen him like this before. He tried to reach out to touch him, but he could not command his arm. He could not command anything. He was bound.
Blood began seeping through both corners of Doojoon’s eyes. It dripped and splattered onto Junhyung’s face, his cheeks, his lips. They felt like they were composed of acid, because his pores screamed for mercy.
Doojoon was expressionless towards the man beneath him.
The blood flowed like cream. Thinning, thickening. Painting, destroying Junhyung’s vanishing skin.
It fucking hurt.
Junhyung jumped into consciousness in a light sweat. His heart thrashed as if it desired to end its torture and tear itself out of his being altogether. Each breath was shallow, not enough to make up for the last.
What in hell was that? He could still very much feel his lover’s blood eating his skin layer by layer. It shook Jun up, and my, it took very much to discombobulate him. But… after going so long without a dream of Doojoon, why that one?
Winter was upon them. The sun retired hours early than in the spring and summer months. Everything was dark in Kikwang’s main room. He took off for his late afternoon shift at the shop hours ago, before Junhyung’s nap with Yoseob.
Junhyung gasped. Yoseob was not in his lap. Yoseob was gone.
“Yoseob?” he called out. He was met with silence. Junhyung snapped to his feet. He called the boy’s name as he traveled to every Yoseob-accessible compartment in the house. No response. He staggered back to the main room, quaking. Yoseob didn’t simply disintegrate. He didn’t simply vibrate his molecules at such a speed that he up and poofed out of existence. Junhyung knew that for a fact. And so he panicked. That dream must have kept him firmly within his mental world and robbed him of all of his outward senses, because he would have unmistakably felt Yoseob wiggle out of his lap when he did. There was no challenging that.
…
……
…
But… what if Yoseob didn’t leave on his own accord? What if someone took him? A stranger? A thief? A pedophile? One of Doojoon’s relatives? That final thought drove an already wired Junhyung to the very brim of madness when a chilly breath of winter caressed his cheek. Junhyung turned slowly to look to the main door. It was open. Not wide open, but open enough to hint that a body had come through. It’s been open for a while: snow had flown itself inside, and a puddle formed. In fact, the temperature throughout the house had dropped a handful of degrees, and Kikwang definitely had the heater running.
Yoseob had been gone-taken, stolen-for a while. Who knows what could’ve become of his baby. Junhyung didn’t want to stand around entertaining the scenarios.
Junhyung thrust himself into the cold. It was still light out. It was snowing. Pastel oranges and pinks were being eaten by midnight blue up above.
“YOSEOB?” Junhyung bellowed from the doorstep, with his eyes bloated and his lips quivering.
Nothing.
He ventured beyond that spot, stumbling out into the road. He looked both ways, searching for any sign of his child.
“YOSEOB?”
Quietness.
Junhyung’s heart vibrated with such rapidity it seemed as if it stopped.
“YOON YOSEOB!?”
“Umma?”
Junhyung ripped his head up. Seobie stood about four meters away, snow in his hand. He was standing adjacent to a huge pile of growing snow he’d probably been hauling, and for at least ten minutes. Junhyung sprinted to the child, tumbling to his knees, dragging them through the snow. Jun snatched Yoseob by his arms; the boy stumbled.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU ANSWER ME THE FIRST TIME?”
“I did’n hear you, umma…”
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE BY YOURSELF?”
“It’s snowing… I come outside to play in the snow-”
“BY YOURSELF?”
“Kiki house is not far-”
“SEOBIE-” Junhyung closed his eyes, and he swallowed very, very slow, and he inhaled and exhaled to flatten his tone, “Seobie… It doesn’t matter how far away or how close Kikwang’s house is, our house is, or anyone’s house is… You never go anywhere without umma knowing where you are. What if something happened to you, baby? What if a bad person hurt you? Or I couldn’t find you!?”
Yoseob read Junhyung’s face intelligently. He saw umma’s rounded eyes become these polished, brown stones and his lips tremble and shiver. And he saw his eyebrows struggle up in a concerned fashion. And the grip on his little arms was so tight and strong. Umma was honestly scared.
“Are you mad, umma…?”
Mad wasn’t the word. Terrorized was more like it. Junhyung enfolded Yoseob with his entire being, bearing the strength of an octopus and the clingy adhesiveness of a ceramic wrap.
“I’m not mad, Seob, I was scared. You scared umma. Don’t ever do this again, Yoseob. Please. I don’t need to be worryin’ about you. It’s too cold outside and it’s almost too dark to be playing at this hour. I don’t want you to get sick…”
“I’m sorry, umma…. I’m sorry. I ask next time… I promise.”
“That’s what I wanna hear. Now I need to go to the market to get some food for our dinner tonight, and since Kiki’s not home, you’re coming with me.”
“Yay!”
Junhyung joined hands with the boy and led him under the roof. He examined the boy’s outfit. He dressed himself well enough for the weather-just as umma would-but even with his mittens on, his little palm was icy.
♥
“What’s the big rule about going to the market?”
“No touching.”
“And what else?”
“And follow umma.”
“Always?”
“Always follow umma.”
“Good. Take my hand.”
The market has always been a crowded, congested place. However, during the winter months, much of the available produce was low. Consequently, there weren’t a lot of people shouting orders and amounts and breathing down each other’s necks. It was busy enough to easily lose a Seobie, so Junhyung gripped his small hand tight.
Whatever was available, though, Junhyung snatched it up, and for a bargained price. He didn’t need very much since he would be making spaghetti. A few herbs, a handful of tomatoes, a head of lettuce, and he would have enough for Kikwang, himself, and Yoseob. There was angel hair pasta at home. It wasn’t spaghetti pasta, but it’d have to do. Noodles were noodles.
Junhyung led Seobie through the different, individual stands. He was a good boy in listening to the elder’s orders. He just listened and watched, listened and watched. He didn’t touch a single thing whilst umma negotiated.
Actually…… not quite.
…
“Umma!”
“Yeah?”
Junhyung dipped his eyes low to bring his attention to his son. Three healthy, melon-pink tulips smiled right back. Seobie hopped, “These yours.”
Junhyung let his jaw fall, “Seobie, where did you get those from?”
“From the flower place.”
There was a tiny booth of flowers adjacent to a legume stand Yoseob and umma parked at minutes ago. The beautiful blossoms effortlessly gripped the boy’s round eyes. He couldn’t take the whole bouquet, so he plucked a few flowers from a single bouquet of pink tulips that he liked the best before umma tugged him along. Appa got umma flowers. He wanted to give him flowers, too.
Junhyung pulled the boy aside and out of the way of others. He knelt down.
“What did I tell you about keeping your hands to yourself? I told you not to touch anything, didn’t I?”
“Yes…”
Junhyung grabbed the flowers stems, slipping them out of Yoseob’s little hand. He held them up to the boy’s face.
“Umma didn’t pay money for these,” he dearly, calmly scolded, “you can’t take things umma didn’t pay for. That’s called stealing, and you can get in trouble. You don’t want to get in trouble, do you?”
“No.”
Junhyung peered to his incomplete bouquet. He peered to his gentleman Seobie. A small, warm grin ruffled the still line on Jun’s mouth. He stole these beautiful flowers for him. It was definitely the thought that counted.
“But they’re very pretty flowers, Seobie… Thank you.”
Yoseob saw umma smile at his flowers, and at him, and that made him feel loads better about his innocent thievery. Jun stained Seobie’s cheeks with bullet kisses, craning him off the ground and into his arms.
♥
Once home, Junhyung and Yoseob began immediately on dinner. They orderly rounded everything together first, certainly after washing their hands as Yoseob reminded. Junhyung put Yoseob in charge of mashing the tomatoes to make the puree-“I stir like this, umma?”-while he expertly cooked the ground meat and boiled the pasta. Together they peeled the leaves of lettuce to prepare the salad. Yoseob had a very good, inherent grasp on how small the pieces needed to be. Measurement skills were a must-have for any fledgling cook.
“You’re gonna be better than umma one day,” Junhyung said to him. Seobie smiled. He took that to his little heart.
Kikwang came home to the wondrous aroma of a home-cooked meal. He arrived at just the right time.
“What in the world happened in here~?”
Yoseob hopped up to the man, piping, “Me and umma make sp’ghetti!”
“Is that what smells so good?”
Junhyung snickered, “Yep. We waited till you came home to eat. So hurry and wash up.”
Kikwang and Yoseob sat to the itty table. Umma arranged all of their plates and glasses. They said grace, and then dug in. The preschooler was a connoisseur in spaghetti-eating.
“You stick the fork in like that. Then you twist it a lot times, then you pull it out like this. That’s how you get a lot. You see me, Kiki?”
“Yes, I see you. And you’ve got a lot on your fork! Can you even eat it all?”
“Uh-huh. Watch-”
“Yoseob. Don’t put all of that in your mouth. You might choke.”
Yoseob lowered his fork after shaking some of the noodles off, “Yes, umma.”
Kikwang smirked to his friend, “You did a fantastic job, Jun-and you, too, Seob. It’s really good.”
“Thanks. Of course it is.”
“Would you mind showing me how to make it one day?”
“Not at all. It’s not hard, really.”
“Then hopefully I can get it right on the first try.”
“And if you don’t, we’ll just keep trying. Maybe the house won’t burn down.”
Kikwang hooted, stabbing his dry salad.
“You’re so funny, Jun.”
Everybody thoroughly enjoyed dinner. Instead of only two present, it made umma fuzzy in the heart to have a third in their company. Three was a stable number for him, and Seobie chatted away, loving the company of a third body. It wasn’t his appa, but having someone else other than Junhyung to talk to was a nice feeling. That number would shrink back to two very soon, for umma had scheduled a shift at the bureau he worked part-time for. Any opportunities where he could earn a little extra he took advantage of. But since it involved the bureau, he did not do so out of delight.
Soon after dinner, Junhyung dolled up in what Seob liked to call “special clothes.”
“Umma where you going?”
“I have to go to work, sweetheart.”
Yoseob scrutinized Junhyung’s ensemble. He was not dressed for a shift at his bakery. He was clothed in a dress shirt and black slacks. Fancy umma.
“When you come back?”
“The morning.”
“Again?” he groaned. He’d been pulling this stunt for almost a few consecutive weeks, so he knew this routine. Junhyung fell to his knees before his son, grinning and patting his fine hair.
“Yeeeah, again, I know. But I’ll be back in the morning. You’ll find me in the morning. Be good for Kikwang. Don’t give him any trouble.”
“’kay,” the boy dejected.
“Don’t pout,” Junhyung’s lips pursed, “gimme kiss.”
Yoseob matched umma’s lips, and meaningfully pushed them onto his mouth. There were “I love you”s and hugs, and Yoseob and Kikwang saw the man out the door.
“Goodnight, umma.”
♥
At the bureau, a layered cake of spreadsheets awaited Junhyung on the desk of his cubical. They were needed to be recorded and individually tucked into the database. It would take them indeed all of his night shift. It was grunt work. No one else wanted to do it, so Junhyung-financially in a tight spot-grudgingly volunteered to do the monotonous work.
When he arrived, he was the only soul in the workspace. That was a good thing, because he already didn’t want to be there, and if he had to deal with anyone else’s additional, obnoxious keystrokes he would go into hysterics. Jun counted on a cup of coffee and some high-energy snacks to keep his head from colliding with the keyboard.
Junhyung dropped himself in the most comfortable chair on Earth. He set up his area, neatly placing his snacks and beverage in their usual places. Then there was a thud. Something had fallen to the floor. Jun instantly froze as if struck with lightning. Did he break something? He prayed he didn’t break anything belonging to the bureau. That would be another expense he didn’t need. With prayers in his lungs, Junhyung glanced to the floor.
Oh. It was his picture frame that tumbled. He reached down and pinched its side. It was his favorite picture with his lover. The picture was taken after Doojoon sampled all of his cupcakes. He was preparing to leave, but the man requested that he take a picture with Sweet Yong’s quiet, charming owner. They stood side by side, their bodies sharing a comfortable space and body heat. Doojoon was to his right. He’d planted his left hand on Jun’s left shoulder and gave his sweetheart smile to the photographer while Junhyung grinned bashfully. It was their first picture together… And neither knew it at the time, but their future together began that exact moment. Junhyung’s lips upturned into a smile at the memory…
That man right there? There in that picture? What was his best friend. That was his lover, the person that made him the happiest, the whole-est. He was a gorgeous man. A sweet man.
He was Junhyung’s man.
That photo, for Junhyung, was magical. It served him many a times for when they had their awful days of passive arguing and fighting. Jun would be fuming-a ticking bomb-when he arrived at the bureau, but his eyes would gravitate to that black-framed picture, and his heart talked itself into calmness. He was fondly reminded of that day, and Doojoon’s not-so-sly-but-obvious flirting. He was reminded why he put up with the man, and he oftentimes wondered why the man put up with him. Yes, that was his Doojoon.
That was his man.
Junhyung propped the beloved picture atop his workspace with care. He and Doojoon met eyes innumerable times.
♥
The sun began to break through the early morning shade. The sharp, orange sunburst threatened to cut Junhyung’s dead eyes open like grapes. The work was done, Jun pulling through till the very last figure, till the very last celery stick, till the very last drop of his low decaf coffee. As his fingers spazzed over the number pad, the time blurred and interwove with space. He really didn’t keep track of the time. A watched pot never boils.
But he’d finished his work, and it was a quarter to seven. A snail-ish Junhyung logged out of his account, packed his things and headed out of the bureau. He was ready to get back to his baby.
As quiet as a mouse, Junhyung tipped back into his friend’s home. Kikwang and Yoseob were still asleep. That was a good thing. Seobie didn’t get his present from the “tooth fairy” yet. Junhyung purchased an extraordinary set of crayons from a drug store on his way to work in those twilight hours. Highlight “extraordinary,” because the company literally had to have captured all of the vivacious hues of the rainbow and packed them inside of a wide, yellow box.
All 120 of them. Why 120? Yoseob deserved more than just twenty-four crayons. On shopping trips, the boy’s orbs brightened at the 120-pack of colors, but he knew better than to ask umma if he could have them. Umma had other things to buy, so he went without his dream pack of crayons. Well? Junhyung decided he wouldn’t have to go without any longer. Plus, he’d never seen a five-year-old love coloring as much as Yoseob did.
Junhyung pulled open the door to the guest room he and the wee one share together. It didn’t creak. Yoseob was a hilariously-sprawled mess. He lay on his stomach with his limbs anchored out in all the cardinal directions. Jun snickered at the spectacle. Kikwang didn’t tuck him in tight enough.
Junhyung ticked alongside the bed on the ball of his toes, as to not wake Yoseob. He was trying so hard to keep his wobbly body still he was shaking. He didn’t want Yoseob to catch him. Jun lifted the pillow, delicately placed the gift atop the covers and jerked the pillow over it, all the while zoning his hawkish pupils on his napping child. His stealthiness paid off. Yoseob’s present was successfully delivered while he snoozed in ultimate contentment.
Junhyung did not wish to disrupt his boy’s sleep by joining him on the bed. He staggered back to the door, closed it, and disengaged, collapsing on Kikwang’s long sofa. Blackness welcomed umma Jun, lovingly embracing him into his magnificent void of unconscious, unceasing darkness.
Next: The Three Cupcakes (9/?) Part Two (2)