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Doyoung considers himself a good father. A little lost sometimes, but a hard-working dad. That’s why he panics when his daughter has red eyes from crying when he gets home after work and the babysitter he hired for the week flees the house without another word. Haewon is shy around strangers, but as soon as she sees her dada, she runs to him. Doyoung knew Haewon was sad, for some reason, and the crying would start again soon. He picks her up and goes upstairs, humming a lullaby as he strokes her back. “Would you like to tell me what’s wrong?”
She doesn’t say anything. He sits down with her on the rocking chair, in her room. The rocking chair always works, Doyoung thinks. He could fall asleep like this, he ponders, it’s not ideal, but he has slept in worse places before. Back in college, for example, when his bed used to be too small and the sheets smelled like air fresheners because– well, he could fall asleep here.
“Dad?” Haewon calls, her voice sounds so tiny. Doyoung feels his heart tighten inside his chest, scared and worried. He squeezes her little hand, brings it up to his lips and places a quick kiss on her fingers.
“Yes?
“I don’t like to change.” She pouts. “Change means bad.”
He knows why, of course. Haewon has been with him for a year now, but they have known each other for two. He saw her growing into the house, her room. He watched as she opened up to him, little by little, and invited him to her tea parties on Wednesday afternoons. Before that, Haewon used to be thrown around, from foster house to foster house. Never in a place for too long, never letting her guard down enough to ask anyone for a cookie or warm tea. Changing means bad because she’s scared when something different happens. It doesn’t matter if it’s a small change, like when they had to stop shopping at the grocery store two blocks from their apartment because Doyoung read somewhere that shopping at the farmers market was better and healthier. Changing was scary, he knew that.
“What’s changing?” He asks.
“School,” Haewon replies. She sounds so sad. Logically, Doyoung knows that she feels horribly sad even when she drops one of her teddy bears in the middle of the night. But, as a single dad – who’s new at this – it’s scary to hear her so broken. “My favourite teacher is leaving me. A new teacher is coming.”
Oh. That would explain the sadness in his daughter’s voice. Mrs Ahn was Haewon’s favourite teacher for many reasons. She teaches art and Haewon loves painting, she's an older lady – sweet and motherly – that hugs her students every morning when they are dropped at school, she was the first person to hug Haewon after he adopted her. Even before Doyoung hugged her, because he was anxious and expectant, but chose to give her time before touching her.
Mrs Ahn is warm and good. Her leaving meant that the first person who made Haewon feel at ease outside their apartment was leaving. A new teacher coming meant Haewon would feel uneasy and scared again. That was bad.
“It’s hard to say goodbye,” He says and stops as Haewon presses her head against his chest. He wants to make her feel safe, loved, warm. He wants to keep her from ever feeling unwanted or scared again. “But saying hello is also nice. Is it not?”
His daughter nods. “Sometimes.”
He laughs. “Sometimes? Only sometimes?”
“Saying hello to you,” She says. “Was nice.”
“Yes?” Doyoung smiles. “I really liked saying hello to you.”
“I will have to say goodbye to you?”
“Will I,” He corrects. She’s six now and it’s okay to correct and teach with care. “It’s a question.”
She nods. “Yes. A question. Will I have to say goodbye?”
“Never.” He replies. “You’re my daughter now.”
“Forever?”
“Forever.”
“Okay. Okay, dad.” She sighs. “Saying hello is nice.”
Haewon falls asleep on his chest.
The next morning is better. Haewon wakes up in a good mood. She keeps repeating “saying hello is nice, saying hello is nice” while he gets her ready for school. He leaves her on the kitchen table as he prepares breakfast and she pretends to feed her unicorn plush. After breakfast, they brush their teeth together. Haewon sits on the counter and Doyoung lets his arm around her just in case she loses balance. The ride for school is quiet. Haewon likes music, but she never sings aloud. He doesn’t know why. In the beginning, she wouldn’t talk a lot, either. She wouldn’t raise her voice and sometimes he’d have trouble listening to her at all.
“Dad?”
“Yes, princess?” He says, watching her through the rearview.
“You– Will you come say hello, too?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes! I want Dad with me!”
“Then, of course, I will go with you.”
“Hum!” She touches her chin. “Thank you! That’s what we say! To be polite.”
She’s so cheerful, he notices. Her little nose scrunching as she smiles at him. Crooked teeth, a soft pink blush on her cheek. What a cute daughter he has. He– he almost can’t believe he managed everything. The adoption papers, the heartache he felt every day for doing it all alone when– Doyoung cuts off his brain. It’s been three years. It’s in the past, it’s behind him and he needs to focus on his cute daughter.
“Saying hello is nice,” Haewon says. “We will say hello. It will feel nice.”
Doyoung laughs. He parks across the street and helps Haewon get out of the car seat. He fixes her red ribbon when it gets a little loose on her ponytail. "There, there." Doyoung offers her his hand and she curls her little hand around his thumb. Haewon’s school is full of nice people, Doyoung made sure of that when he was searching for a school. He needed nice, warm people because he knew Haewon had her share of cold, angry adults in her short life.
The receptionist smiles at him as he asks for permission to accompany her to her first class of the day. It’s Tuesday which means her new art teacher is probably in the classroom already. Haewon squeezes his thumb. He smiles at her.
They are still holding hands when they get close to the classroom – it’s still early and the door is open, no students there yet. Haewon seems to notice that, too, and she tugs on his arm until he picks her up. She hides her face on his neck. “Okay?” He asks. She nods. “Let’s go, then!” Doyoung knocks on the door and his heart skip a beat, his heartbeat races up so quickly that if he weren’t holding his daughter in his arms, he’d have trouble even standing straight at all. Because as he knocks and the teacher – the fucking teacher – turns to look at him with a small smile on his lips… it’s… it’s Taeyong.
The smile falls from his lips. “Doyoung?”
He can’t speak. He can’t form any words, not when it’s Taeyong here. Standing a few inches away from him in a small, colourful classroom, with a name tag hanging from his neck. It says Taeyong! there, too. Doyoung doesn’t know what to do.
“Dad?” Haewon asks, leaning away from him to look at his face. “Dad?”
“I’m okay, princess.” He replies. She’s the only reason why he gets himself under control. She doesn’t seem convinced, with her little face turning into a perfect copy of his own questioning face - the one he does when asking Haewon if she really brushed her teeth before bed. “Dad’s fine!” He bops her nose. “Are you okay to go down?”
“I am.”
He puts her on the ground, bops her nose again and says, “Now let’s– let’s say hello.”
“Okay,” Haewon replies. She turns to Taeyong and smiles. “Hello.”
Taeyong blinks at him. Doyoung looks away, but his peripheral vision catches as Taeyong kneels on the floor and beams at his daughter.
“Hello! Who’s this beautiful little girl?”
Haewon giggles. “I’m Haewon! This is my dad! Dad, say hello!”
Doyoung stares at her. His own daughter! Putting him in this situation! He licks his lips. “Yes.” He says. “I mean, yes, hello. Hi.”
Taeyong looks up at him. Why is he still kneeling? Get up, Doyoung wants to say, but he doesn’t. Instead, he clears his throat and shoves his hands inside his jacket’s pocket. Taeyong’s eyes are so big – it used to be Doyoung’s favourite thing about him. Now, as those big eyes are looking at him again after three years, Doyoung feels small and Taeyong’s stare prickles at his skin. “Hi,” Taeyong says. Doyoung feels twenty-four years old all over again. He hates it. “Haewon is such a pretty name.”
Haewon giggles again, blushing shyly. “It means beautiful!”
Taeyong laughs. “It sure does!” Then he gets up and fixes his posture. Looking at Doyoung, he says, “She’s got the spirit.”
“Yeah,” He agrees. “Love, why don’t you put your backpack on your assigned hook?”
She nods. Doyoung watches as she puts her backpack on the floor, opens it and takes her unicorn plush from inside it.
Taeyong clears his throat. “Doyoung?”
“No.” He says. “No– I won’t– I don’t want to talk.”
“Oh,” Taeyong says. “It’s– it’s okay.”
Doyoung looks away from his daughter. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought you didn’t want to talk.”
“I thought you left for good to pursue your dancer career in Los Angeles.”
Taeyong rolls his eyes. “Oh, so you want to talk!”
“Why are you here?”
“Because I work here now. I have a degree that makes me fully capable.”
“I know.”
“Right, you were there through all of it.”
“Not that it meant anything.”
“Don’t do that,” Taeyong says. “Don’t–”
“Dad?” Haewon tugs at his jacket. “You have work.”
Doyoung looks at her. “You’re right! I have work! I’ll pick you up at four, okay?”
“Like every day!” She smiles. “I will wait.”
“Wait inside, okay?”
She nods. “I will!”
Taeyong offers her his hand. “Come sit with me, Haewon! We can wait for your classmates together.”
“Okay!”
Doyoung watches them for a minute. It’s difficult, it’s not a good idea, it’s going to fuck him up, but he can’t help himself. He watches as Taeyong’s hand curls around his daughter’s hand and he thinks that she could’ve been theirs.
He can’t focus. He’s been thinking about Taeyong ever since this morning. Never in a million years, he’d imagine seeing Taeyong again. In Korea, as a teacher. His daughter’s teacher! It feels like a horrible joke, but Doyoung can’t laugh. His fingertips hurt, that's a thing that happens when he's anxious. Years ago, Taeyong would message his hands before his midterms, his finals, lunch with his mother. Every time he was nervous and his hands hurt, Taeyong would fix it. He would bring Doyoung's hands to his face and kiss his fingers and Doyoung would feel at ease again. It's a thing he does now, with Haewon.
Doyoung glances at the clock on his work table, it's barely one. He has a long day ahead of him before he has to pick up Haewon from school. Before he has to see Taeyong again.
Obviously, Doyoung thought about this before. About seeing him again – of course, he did. They were best friends. Before Taeyong looked at him and gave him a chance, they were best friends. Losing a best friend is somewhat like losing a limb. Taeyong was his neighbour, they went to high school together and that was hell but they made it!
And then college. Which felt like hell, too, sometimes. But they were still together. Then, in their first year at college, they finally kissed for the first time. High school had enough pining already. College felt a lot less like hell when he made out with Taeyong every day, when he had Taeyong under him – so warm and smelling like roses and air fresheners. And then they finished college, still together.
They had rings and everything. They had plans, too. Lots of them. They moved in together in the third year and they were still under the same roof when Taeyong received an e-mail from a dance company in Los Angeles. Their plans were put on hold for a few months before they both realised they couldn’t keep them any longer. Their rings were hidden in a wooden box under his bed.
He hasn’t seen Taeyong in three years. That’s a very long time, Doyoung thinks, but it’s still less than the time they spent together. It’s totally fine if he’s shaken up. God, he barely even looked at him. He can’t even remember what Taeyong was wearing.
“What’s with the dumbass look on your face?”
Doyoung startles but manages to keep a straight face. “Shut up.”
Johnny laughs. “I’m serious,” He places an archive folder on the table. “These need a look over, by the way.”
He nods. “Fine, just– just leave them here. I will check it out later.”
“Okaaaaay,” Johnny drags the word as he sits on the chair across from Doyoung. “But what’s up with the face?”
"It's nothing. I mean, no, it is. I don't want to talk about it here, though."
"Well, you skipped lunch so you'll have to talk about it here because there's no way I will wait any longer."
“Did I?” Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “Did I skip lunch?”
“You did.”
Doyoung sighs deeply. “It’s– Uh… Do you remember Taeyong?”
Johnny cocks his head. “Of course,” He replies. “There’s no way I could’ve forgotten him.” He purses his lips. “Fucking asshole.”
“Johnny–”
“Fine! He wasn’t an asshole. But I watched you put yourself back together piece by piece. It hurt.”
“I know, but–”
“It hurt.” Johnny repeats.
“Fine. But, the thing is,” Doyoung lets out a nervous laugh. “He’s back.”
“Is he, now…” Johnny squints. “How do you know?”
“Well,” Doyoung crosses his arms on his chest. “He’s a teacher, remember? He graduated with Jaehyun.”
“Yes, I know.”
“So,” He licks his lips. “He’s Haewon’s new art teacher.”
Johnny gasps. “You’re so fucked.”
“No,” Doyoung shakes his head. “There’s– no, there’s not a chance– no.”
“You are so fucked. God.”
“I need support,” He whines. “I’m not feeling supported right now.”
“Because I know you–” Johnny starts, but Doyoung sends him a look. “I do! I know you! And you are still hanging upon him.”
Doyoung scoffs. “What?” He laughs. “It’s been three years, shut up.”
“Three years and you haven’t been in a serious relationship. You went ahead with your plans with Taeyong without Taeyong and just never dated again.”
“Haewon is not just a plan I had with Taeyong. I wanted her– I wanted to be a dad.”
“I know.”
Doyoung sighs. “Seeing him again almost killed me.”
“Doie–”
“It’s fine, though. Maybe– maybe I’ll get over him for real if we talk and– and put everything behind us. Right? That’s what it’s like in the books. You need closure to move on and we just didn’t have that.”
Johnny doesn’t reply at first. Doyoung knows he must be thinking that’s stupid, but Doyoung desperately needs to be reassured that it’s going to be fine. Haewon has a year with Taeyong, which means Doyoung will have to see him from time to time – he’s an involved father, after all.
“Yeah,” Johnny says, finally. “I think it might work out.”
Doyoung manages to avoid bumping into Taeyong for a very long week, although his presence has been constant in everything Haewon says. It’s stupid that he’s trying to avoid someone that had been so important – someone that is still very important, but Doyoung has been behaving like his teenager self ever since Taeyong got back. So, he avoids Taeyong for as long as he can.
And then, they meet again.
Taeyong is the first person Doyoung sees when he crosses the school’s gates to pick up Haewon. He studies the possibility of just turning away as soon as his eyes fall onto Taeyong, but Haewon is still inside her classroom and Doyoung can’t just leave his daughter there. Doyoung breathes in and out. In and out one more time. He perseveres.
“Hi,” Taeyong says. “You’re a little early.”
“Haewon doesn’t feel comfortable with waiting, I try to come early so she won’t have to.”
“Oh,” He hums. “That’s– that’s nice of you.”
“Where’s Eunae-ssi?”
“She’s stuck helping out at the library. I was free so I’m at reception today.”
“Right.”
Doyoung isn’t strong enough, so he finally – finally – lets himself stare. After so long, he’s allowed this. He lets his eyes wash through Taeyong’s face. Big eyes, pretty lips. He looks just the same, as if time hadn’t passed at all. His hair is a dark brown and it falls onto his eyes a little, but it suits him. Taeyong used to try very bright and different hair colours back in college, Doyoung could barely remember how he looked with a more natural shade.
He’s a little bit tanned, too, the black shirt he’s wearing doesn’t contrast as strongly as it used to. Taeyong used to be so pale back then – a milky skin that was easy to bruise. Doyoung shakes his head and looks away. That was a dangerous train of thought.
"She's a precious girl." Taeyong starts after a few minutes. They are alone in the waiting room of the school, Doyoung is used to waiting around until it's time to pick Haewon up, he's even used to making small talk with the younger girl who's always at the reception. He wishes she was here right now, asking about the weather. "She's very bright if a little shy."
"Yeah," Doyoung clears his throat. "She's got a hard time with strangers. It's a lingering trace from her foster home days."
"I figured. Is that why you come earlier?"
"She used to wait around a lot when couples came to visit. And then after they visited when they promised to come back. She gets restless." He shrugs. "It's no trouble for me."
"You're a very good dad." Taeyong smiles. "As I knew you would be."
Doyoung blushes. "Thank you."
"I hope she likes me." He says. "I know you probably- I know you wouldn't want that, but it's good for her. Educationally speaking."
"My issues with you..." Doyoung starts, unsure if he’s using the right words. "Have nothing to do with her."
"So you have issues with me." Taeyong says.
Doyoung presses his lips together. "Come on."
"We ended on good terms."
"We did." They really did. Things just weren’t working.
"But you stopped calling."
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"It hurt." He says, simply. It really fucking did.
"Doyoung–”
"Oh, look at the time! I'll go get my daughter now. I hope she gets comfortable with you, too." He finishes quickly, leaving Taeyong behind without waiting for a reply.
Haewon hugs his leg when she sees him and he picks her up. She is talking excitedly about class – as she usually does – and Doyoung doesn’t ask about her art teacher.
At home, Doyoung helps Haewon wash her hair, but leaves to cook their dinner after her hair is clean. There was a little bit of paint on it, and he wants to know what they did in art class – he won’t ask. She will tell him if she wants to share.
Dinner is ready by six, but Haewon wants help to dress and so Doyoung leaves their plates on the table to help his daughter choose her pyjamas. They end up picking the light blue pyjamas because Haewon likes the stripes. Doyoung dries and brushes her hair before going back to the kitchen.
Dinner is never silent at home. Doyoung has encouraged Haewon to talk since her first week with him because he believed that would help her learn how to communicate. He’s prepared for a conversation.
“Mr Taeyong is so cool.”
Doyoung is not prepared for this conversation. Not again. Not after today.
“Hmmm,” He answers. Haewon looks at him. He tries again. “I told you it would be okay.”
“Yes.” She nods. “You were right, dad!”
“I was! It’s a common occurrence.”
“Occurrence.” Haewon repeats. “Big word.”
“You know what it means?”
She shakes her head.
Doyoung starts explaining. Then, she asks for another word. Then, another. They finish dinner, she puts her to bed and tells her a story. Haewon falls asleep with her hand around his thumb.
The thing about Taeyong is that it’s hard to keep a safe distance from him. There’s just something about him that pulls Doyoung close. It has always been like that. Another thing about Taeyong is that he’s lovely and good with kids. Naturally, just like her dad, Haewon is enchanted.
She’s been talking about Taeyong every day for weeks now. Professor Taeyong is so nice! He is so funny! He knows how to draw a straight line with his eyes closed! Professor Taeyong’s hair is blue now! He showed us his fish! He has a bunch of fish! Professor Taeyong let us borrow his coloured pencils! Taeyong said it’s okay if I call him by his first name! We are friends.
Doyoung is trying not to think too much about Taeyong’s blue hair, or his fish tank or any other detail about him that he gets to know through Haewon, but it’s hard. He finds himself expecting these talks now, he waits anxiously for any information. It’s embarrassing.
It’s been a little over a month since Taeyong started working at Haewon’s school and she is already so fond of him. That’s good, great even. Doyoung knew it would happen and he wanted it to happen. He can tell himself he wanted that for Haewon’s sake – which he did. But, deep down, he’d wanted Taeyong to see her, to know her better.
It’s Wednesday when Doyoung sees Taeyong again and it’s not even in school. He was supposed to have lunch with a potential client, but something came up and the woman had to cancel. Doyoung was already at the restaurant so he thought why not? He kept the reservation, sat down alone and focused on replying to a few emails while waiting for his food.
That’s how Taeyong finds him.
“Doyoung! Hi!”
His hair is dishevelled, there’s paint on his fingertips and he runs his hands through his hair, leaving a trace of white paint on his strands. Doyoung has to force back the desire that takes over his body. He licks his lip. “Hello.”
“Alright?” Taeyong asks. He’s wearing overalls, what the fuck! He looks as if time hasn’t passed at all. The messy hair, the washed jeans of his overalls, the little doodles on his forearms. God, Doyoung remembers washing away those doodles when they were bathing together so long ago. He’d scrub Taeyong’s skin until it turned pink under his ministrations until Taeyong whined against him.
“Yeah,” Doyoung says. “What are you doing here?”
“I was running some errands nearby and it’s lunchtime already! I thought I could spoil myself a little bit.” He looks around. “I didn’t know I had to make reservations to eat here.”
“You can sit with me if you want.”
Taeyong blinks at him. “Really?”
“Of course,” He replies. “I was going to eat alone.”
Taeyong smiles. “Well then, thanks!” He pulls the chair out, sitting just across from Doyoung. He– he looks so good. Doyoung is out of his mind. This Taeyong across from him looks so much like the Taeyong from three years ago. It’s probably the hair. It’s definitely the hair. Oh, fuck. “What are you doing here? Eating by yourself?”
Doyoung smiles. If he lets his guard down for a few minutes, the air between them doesn’t feel as charged with awkwardness. He does that, then. Taeyong seems to be trying to make something in between them work – be it a friendship, or at least a healing process. So, Doyoung tries too. “I had a meeting with a client. She had to cancel, but I decided to keep the reservation. Might as well.”
“Hmmm,” says Taeyong. “Yeah, that sounds like you. Choosing to eat alone just so you won’t waste a reservation.”
“Exactly.” He agrees easily.
“How’s Haewon?”
“She’s good. She wants me to buy her a fish tank.” Doyoung sends him a look. “Would you know anything about it?”
Taeyong giggles, but dodges the teasing as he orders his own food. Doyoung looks away. He knew Taeyong was back. He made peace with that fact a month ago. He knew how Taeyong looked now that he’s older. He doesn’t understand what’s happening right now. If it’s the fact that they are out of school and Taeyong’s hair is blue and they are about to have lunch together. It’s possible that now that he let his guard down, his inner feelings – and desires – are roaming free through his mind. Doyoung stretches his legs under the table, unable to stay still, and his foot bumps against Taeyong’s feet. He flushes a deep, horrifying red.
“Oh, sorry.”
“It’s fine!” Taeyong says, but his cheeks are a soft shade of pink. Doyoung wants to touch, feel the warmth of his embarrassment under his palm, the rush of blood under his pale skin. Things are going horribly today. Taeyong doesn’t move away. “So, about the fish tank…?”
Doyoung is grateful for the bait. “There’s no fish tank. But thank you for getting her obsessed with fish. Do you know she wants to watch Nemo every night now?”
“That’s a cute movie.”
“It stops being cute the third time.”
“Don’t be so grumpy,” Taeyong teases. He moves his feet under the table, bumps into Doyoung’s – because of course Doyoung didn’t pull back his feet either – and doesn’t comment on it. They keep touching under the table, they keep testing the waters. “It’s nice that she’s interested in animals. At least it’s not a dog. That would be worse to get over.”
“Yeah, don’t show her any pictures of Ruby.”
Taeyong’s face falls. “Oh. You don’t know.”
“What?” He hates the look on Taeyong’s face right now, absolutely despises the sad pout on his lips.
“Ruby’s gone,” He sniffs. “She– it happened a few months ago.”
“Taeyong,” Doyoung starts. “I am so sorry, I’m truly sorry.”
He doesn’t think, that’s it, he doesn’t think about much when Taeyong looks so broken across from him. That’s why Doyoung reaches for his hand, painted and slim fingers, cold skin. He envelopes Taeyong’s hand. “She was a delight.”
Taeyong stares at their hands. He looks up, blinking adorably before smiling. “She really was.” He squeezes Doyoung’s hand.
“She was very lucky to have you.”
Taeyong giggles. “Now you’re just saying things.”
“Maybe.”
He rolls his eyes. The food comes and Doyoung has to let Taeyong’s hand go. Taeyong bumps his feet against the inside of Doyoung’s calf again. The food is great, really, but it doesn’t compare to the weight of Taeyong’s touch. He has missed this – he has missed him.
Johnny is right. Doyoung is still hanging up on Taeyong, wrapped around his finger, lingering around like a puppy. It never went away – the love, the want. It was asleep, waiting for the right moment to come back and wreck Doyoung’s mask.
They talk – they talk so much. About everything, and anything and nothing that really matters. They talk and Doyoung feels at ease. They talk and Doyoung doesn’t want to ever not talk to Taeyong again.
After lunch, Doyoung has to go back to work – which sucks, because he’d love to offer a ride to Taeyong. To stretch out their time together. To talk a little more. He feels like an idiot, daydreaming about the man by his side. Taeyong must see him as a good friend for an ex-boyfriend, and Doyoung is here, wanting to suck on Taeyong’s bottom lip. He might not want anything from him – certainly not a relationship.
He has to go back to work, though, so he says goodbye and watches as Taeyong’s figure disappears on the corner of the street. He instantly misses his presence by his side.
Two days after his lunch with Taeyong, Johnny shows up at Doyoung’s house for dinner. Haewon climbs at Uncle Johnny, lying her head on Johnny’s shoulder as soon as he crosses the threshold. He plays with her in the living room as Doyoung prepares dinner – it’s a big help for Doyoung who has been aloof the whole day. When dinner’s ready, Johnny leaves Haewon on the couch after washing her hands and helps Doyoung set the table.
“You look distant,” Johnny says. “What’s up?”
“I had lunch with Taeyong the other day.”
Johnny raises an eyebrow as he places the glasses on the table. “And how was it?”
“I felt like– I really felt as if time hadn’t passed at all and I was still as in love with him as I was all these years ago.”
“You are in love with him,” Johnny says. “It was never a matter of doubt.”
Doyoung sighs. “What do I do now? He’s back and so close and Haewon speaks of him all the time. It’s like he’s already part of our lives.”
“You have to be careful, Doie. That’s all. Haewon doesn’t like changing, so if you’re going to let him in your lives, you have to be sure he’s going to stay.”
“It’s not like that– I don’t think he feels the same way anymore,” Doyoung remembers the way Taeyong smiled at him during their lunch, the way he kept his hand under Doyoung’s on the table. The way their legs kept in touch the whole time – he didn’t flinch, didn’t move away. He wanted Doyoung’s touch. “We haven’t talked.”
“Maybe you should.”
Essentially, that’s why Doyoung waits outside Taeyong’s classroom the next day. It’s early Friday morning, he just left Haewon on her first class of the day before walking down the corridor to stop in front of Taeyong’s classroom. Taeyong had looked at him from inside the classroom, asked his assistant to keep an eye on the kids for a few minutes before leaving to meet Doyoung under the oak tree of the courtyard.
“Hi,” He says. “Is everything alright?”
“I want you to have dinner with me,” Doyoung says. “I have been thinking– we should talk. Right? And my friend agreed to look out for Haewon for tonight. So if you are up for it– if you want to set things right.”
Taeyong bites his bottom lip. “Doyoung, that’s all I want. To make up for everything.”
“I don’t think you’ve much to make up for.” Doyoung replies. “I’ll wait for you after school hours, is that fine? Johnny’s picking Haewon up.”
“Yeah, sure. I mean… You didn’t have to ask someone to take care of her. I love that child.”
“She’s obsessed with you,” Doyoung laughs. “We wouldn’t have a moment alone with her around.”
“She’s so– so sweet.” Taeyong looks away. “You always talked about having kids.”
“Yeah.”
“I wanted it, too.”
“I know.”
Taeyong swallows. “I have to go back. I need to teach them how to colour inside the lines. They hate it.”
“Good luck, then.”
And the rest of the day passes in a blink. He doesn’t get anything done at work, the whole day all Doyoung thinks about is having Taeyong at his place. Eating his homemade cooking, talking – setting things right. Freeing themselves of the weight of the past. Doyoung really believes that, perhaps, even if they can’t pick it up from where they ended three years ago, they could make peace with the past and keep their friendship.
Taeyong is his best friend, had been his rock for so long. It doesn’t feel right, Doyoung thinks, to raise a daughter and not have Taeyong in her life. If he came back, if destiny put him right in Haewon’s school, if his daughter has loved Taeyong from day one – then why not keep him? Keep him whatever way he can. Taeyong is here . Doyoung wanted that to happen, longed for that to happen, and now… It’s his move. Destiny has worked hard enough. Taeyong has come back. It’s Doyoung’s turn.
After work, Doyoung parks his car across the street and waits for Taeyong. Taeyong is out in two minutes and his eyes scan the street, he smiles when he sees Doyoung across from where he stands. Inside the car, Taeyong whistles. “So you’ve become the rich boyfriend after all.”
Doyoung laughs. “Shut up.”
“The house must be big, too.”
“It’s an apartment.”
“Is it big?”
“Big enough for one adult and a half.”
Taeyong hums, nodding. “There’s room for her to play, is there not? She always talks about how much she plays at home. The whole class wants a sleepover at her place.”
“Oh, God,” He replies. “I made one of the spare rooms a playroom of sorts. It’s my office, really, but I split the room so she can have space to play while I work.”
“Great dad, great dad!” Taeyong chants.
“Shut up,” Doyoung blushes under his praise. “Is there anything you want to eat?”
“Oh, my. Am I getting homemade dinner?”
“Who do you take me for,” Doyoung whines. “I don’t order takeout, ever. I cook dinner every night.”
“Great dad!” He says again.
“Stop that, you’d do the same, I’m sure. You always talked about changing our habits before getting our child.”
Taeyong smiles. “I– I did.”
“Sorry,” Doyoung says. “It slipped.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Taeyong replies. They’re five minutes away from Doyoung’s building. “When I first met Haewon,” He starts. “The first thing I thought was that she could be mine.”
She could, still. If you want us. If you’ll have us. If you’ll have me. “I always think about that.” He says, honest and raw and vulnerable in a way he feels only when Taeyong is around.
“You’re right, we should talk. I mean, I am right, because I said we should talk and you said you had nothing to talk about with me.”
“I’m stubborn.”
“Yeah,” Taeyong hums. “I remember.”
They don’t talk much on their way to Doyoung’s apartment, but Taeyong is excited to see all the family photos on the living room wall as soon as they get inside. Doyoung takes off his jacket and folds the sleeves of his dress shirt before washing his hands on the kitchen sink.
Taeyong is silent, observing the place with curious, big eyes. Making dinner is second nature to Doyoung now – he doesn’t have to focus too much on cooking pasta, so he lets his mind wander to The Talk. There’s little hurt in between him and Taeyong, they ended on good terms. Perhaps all they needed was a little time, more communication. Perhaps they gave up too soon on their relationship. Perhaps they wanted the same things on different paces.
There’s much love in between them. Doyoung knows. Doyoung feels. In the way Taeyong looks at him, the way he speaks. The way he touches the subject of their dreams and goals with tenderness. The way he showers Haewon with affection, the way he cherishes her. It’s been a few months, but Taeyong acts as if he’s known Haewon for years – just like Doyoung himself.
“I like the way her smile gets bigger as the time passes,” Taeyong says, leaning against the wall. “You can see how much she loves you in her eyes.”
“She gives love very easily,” Doyoung replies. “I know you must’ve felt so.”
“I did.”
“She’s full of it.”
“Just like her dad.”
He laughs. “Yeah.”
“Do you need help?”
“Can you get us some wine? It’s on the top shelf. Can you reach it?”
“Fuck off,” Taeyong whines. “I can reach it just fine. I’m not small, I’m average.”
Doyoung laughs, but he watches as Taeyong stretches his body so he can reach for the wine bottle, the hem of his shirt goes up and Doyoung’s eyes fall onto the soft skin of Taeyong’s waist. Slim waist, soft skin – Doyoung licks his lips. Talk first and foremost. Kissing… later, maybe. Or never again, how would he know?
They drink together. Taeyong’s lips absorb the colour of the wine. “Why did you come back?” Doyoung asks.
Taeyong takes a sip. “Because I missed home.” He says home as if he wanted to say something else.
Like home meant you.
“Do you blame me?” Taeyong asks in return. “For leaving?”
“I did, at first.” Doyoung replies. “But now I don’t. You had dreams, I did too. We wanted the same things, just at different times.”
“I still think, sometimes, that I shouldn’t have left.”
Doyoung shakes his head. “You had dreams. I can’t blame you for that. And we would’ve resented ourselves. You, for not trying. Me, for having kept you from trying.”
Taeyong nods. “Do you still–”
“Yes.”
He sighs. “Me too.”
“Do you think we could–?” Doyoung tries.
“Yes.”
Doyoung laughs. “We are good at this talking thing.”
Taeyong takes another sip of his wine. “Indeed,” He licks his lips. “Doyoung.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to...?” He trails off. Doyoung knows what he’s asking for.
He turns off the stove. He turns on his heels and reaches for Taeyong’s face with both hands. “Yes.”
So they kiss. And Doyoung could cry. He could start wars, burn down cities, build up shrines and altars and get on his knees and– he could die and come back to life just for another moment with Taeyong’s lips pressed against his. He feels whole, complete. He feels alive. He feels as if he’s floating around, at the same time, he feels as if Taeyong is holding him in place, holding him close.
The kiss turns urgent because they are desperate and hungry and insane, and so Taeyong bites on his bottom lip and sneaks both hands up Doyoung’s shirt. Doyoung moans, he cries out, he presses Taeyong against the kitchen counter, lifts him up on it so he can fit himself in between his legs.
“Taeyong,” He breathes out.
Taeyong’s reply is, “Fuck me.”
They stumble into the bedroom and Doyoung closes the door with a kick. He presses Taeyong into the bed, licking into his mouth until Taeyong’s spine is arching off the mattress, thighs bracketing Doyoung’s hips. He whimpers softly, slipping his hands down Doyoung’s back to grip at his shirt, pulling at it, trying to take it off.
“Not yet,” Doyoung whispers against his mouth before he starts licking Taeyong’s bottom lip and kisses him again. Passionately, slowly. Taeyong’s hips try to find some friction, he brushes against Doyoung’s lower belly. “Let me kiss you properly.”
It’s been so long.
Taeyong sucks in a deep, desperate breath. “Please.”
Doyoung kisses Taeyong’s soft and docile mouth one last time before he drags himself down slowly, stopping to shove his shirt up and suck on Taeyong’s nipple for a bit. It’s so familiar like they have been doing this without a three years break. Taeyong slips his hands into Doyoung’s hair, twisting the strands before just resting them there. His touch is so soft, so loving. It’s like he can’t really believe they are together – Doyoung feels the same way.
He sticks his tongue out, licking the unmarked skin of Taeyong’s stomach. Down and down and down until he reaches the hem of Taeyong’s jeans.
Every inch of Taeyong's body deserves attention, but Doyoung firmly believes Taeyong wants his concentration on his cock. So he gives it to him. When he's finally facing Taeyong’s dick he presses a hot kiss to the wet tip of it, tongue darting out to tease the slit. He barely closes his lips around Taeyong’s dick before he moans. Doyoung has missed this. He’s always been good at sucking Taeyong’s cock. He runs his tongue along the side of Taeyong’s dick, mouthing at the head and tonguing the slit, before reaching for his hands, pulling them out of his hair. He intertwines their fingers, holding his hand.
Taeyong’s hips buck up insistently, making Doyoung gag once or twice. His face burns in embarrassment, but it’s been so long and he might be a little out of practice. Not that Taeyong seems to care, because he moans and thrashes on the bed, wanting more. Doyoung keeps sucking, taking Taeyong wholly into his mouth before sliding out again, suckling the tip, swallowing the fat drips of pre-cum. He sighs with contentment.
He comes up for air but his hands continue to work, jerking Taeyong off lazily. Doyoung licks a long stripe from the base to the head before he says, “You taste so good.” He licks his lips. “I will never get tired of this.”
Taeyong blushes. “I– I missed you.” He whispers. “I can’t believe I’ve ever lived a single day without you.”
“Made us stronger,” Doyoung says. “Don’t you agree?”
Taeyong smiles. “Yeah.” He reaches for Doyoung’s cheek. “I’ll never let you go again.”
Doyoung bites his bottom lip. “I’ll never let you go again,” He replies. It feels like a promise.
Taeyong’s dick is hard and hot on Doyoung’s hand. So, he leans in again and sucks Taeyong off so enthusiastically that Taeyong forgets all the words and just lets out tiny, nonsensical sounds. He comes, because Doyoung still knows exactly how to make Taeyong break, but he doesn’t stop. He reaches for Taeyong’s small waist – so small that it makes Doyoung’s hand look even bigger.
“Mmhh,” Taeyong says and Doyoung laughs.
“I thought you wanted me to fuck you?”
Taeyong’s legs fall open.
Doyoung smears Taeyong’s cum on his cock. He’s hard enough to hurt, hard enough to feel lightheaded. Fingering Taeyong open feels like Christmas, like a miracle, like a holy gift. He scissors his fingers, thrusts them in and out hard enough to make Taeyong cry out, and then he slides in before Taeyong is totally used to the stretch because Doyoung knows Taeyong likes the burn of it.
He fucks into Taeyong slowly just so he can feel every inch of his skin, the hot drag of his dick inside of him.
It’s a long night, they make full use of it.
Johnny texts Doyoung to warn him that he’s going to bring Haewon home after breakfast. Doyoung is already up, making breakfast while Taeyong showers. Last night feels somehow more real than the past three years – with exception of Haewon. Now that Taeyong is showering in his bathroom, probably using his body wash, Doyoung really feels complete.
Taeyong leaves the bathroom with his hair wet, wearing Doyoung’s shirt. “Smells good in here.”
“I hope you like chia seeds.”
Taeyong tilts his head, confused. “I guess–” He says. “I was thinking, what time is Haewon coming home?”
“Soon after breakfast.”
“Do you think– I could spend the day here?”
“Do you want to?”
“More than anything,” Taeyong replies. “I don’t think you understand how much I want this. You. And Haewon. To be part of this little family– If last night happened… I think you might want this too.”
“I do,” Doyoung says, taking a break from cooking. “I do. I very much do.”
And so they eat breakfast together, waiting for Haewon to come home. When she does, she’s surprised to find Taeyong there – but she smiles big enough to hurt and runs past Doyoung as if he wasn’t there just to jump on Taeyong’s arm. He laughs, kissing her forehead. “Taeyong!” She says, her little hand touching his cheek.
“Hi there,” He says and she’s so happy she lays her head on his shoulder as she does with Doyoung.
It’s such a great scene. Doyoung’s heart swells. “No kisses or hugs for me?” He asks, and his daughter sends him a look from Taeyong’s arms.
“I hug you all the time.”
Doyoung’s mouth falls open. “I’m very hurt,” He jokes, pretending to dry his tears, but Haewon laughs and hugs Taeyong even tighter.
“Why are you here,” Haewon asks.
Taeyong looks at Doyoung.
“Princess,” He starts. “We should talk, but it’s nothing bad nor serious. Can you ask Taeyong to put you down so we can sit?”
She nods, trusting him fully. Taeyong sets her on the floor, but she reaches for his hand. All three of them sit together on the couch, Haewon between them. She reaches for Doyoung’s hand too and Taeyong smiles.
“Baby,” Doyoung says. “Taeyong and I are together.”
“Together?” She repeats.
“Like a couple.”
She opens her mouth, then closes it again. “Like when a princess and a prince marry?”
“Yes,” Taeyong replies before Doyoung even opens his mouth. “Like that.”
"But you're both princes!" She says matter of factly.
“Yes, and so Taeyong’s gonna be around us a lot. Most of the time.” Doyoung replies.
Haewon giggles but she shakes her head. “All of the time!” She corrects.
“Do you want me here all the time?” Taeyong asks. He looks so happy.
She nods. “A common occurrence.”
Taeyong laughs delighted at her intelligence. “Is it okay that I’m with your father?”
“It is,” She says, nodding. Doyoung squeezes her little hand and she squeezes back. “I like you.”
And it’s settled – as much as it can be. But Taeyong leans down, kisses Haewon’s forehead and says, “I’ll never leave you and your dad. Ok?”
She looks at him. Her eyes are big and trusting – like Taeyong’s. She says, “Ok.”
In a year, Haewon will hold in her hands their wedding rings and she will be older and bigger, but her eyes will still look big and trusting whenever she looks at both of her dads.