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Peace, tranquility, solitude. Those were the three things Zhang Hao cherished most in life ever since he had discovered the joys of living alone in his own apartment. As an accomplished, successful writer, he gladly spent his workdays alone, humming along a tune and drinking some tea. He wasn’t a shut-in, of course, and he spent plenty of his weekdays hanging out with his many friends for exciting activities. Zhang Hao simply loved the silence after he closed the door, and recharging himself after a long day.
He also liked being home when his upstairs neighbor, Sung Hanbin, happened to need some sugar. He never seemed to have any on stock, and Zhang Hao was more than happy to help.
They had met shortly after Hanbin moved in, when Zhang Hao had gone up to complain about all the banging and running going on at all hours above his head. The most beautiful man in the world had opened the door, with the cutest of toddlers clinging to his leg, and Zhang Hao’s rage had melted into a decision to buy some noise canceling headphones. Hanbin’s endless apologies had helped too, and then the sugar needs had started.
Sometimes Hanbin stayed for tea. It took them a few months of small talk to learn the most important, but private, information about each other. Zhang Hao confessed to writing a smutty romance series that got a popular movie adaptation a few years ago, but now being more interested in writing gay romances for a niche audience so he could give more representation to men like him. It was only after this confirmation that Hanbin truly relaxed, and shared some of his life story.
His family had been very religious growing up, and it hadn’t been easy to come to terms with his homosexuality, let alone come out. Hanbin had ended up with a girl equally pressured to conform, they had a rushed marriage very young with a baby on the way to please their parents, and it all was going terribly until his wife had a breakdown leading to a mutual confession. Hanbin had told this story with a smile, but the scars still left from this time were plain to see.
There were some hardships along the way, but after the separation was finalized, they both found their happiness. She could pursue her child-free, partner-free dream life with her cats, and Hanbin came out to his family and kept on raising his beloved child, Gyuvin. Hao saw Gyuvin’s mother once, at the kid’s birthday party when he had dropped by to give out a pack of sugar for all the baking that would occur. She was bright and full of affection, and made sure to show Gyuvin a lot of love. As far as Zhang Hao could tell, there were no hard feelings, which was nice to see.
It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, though. On a winter night after Gyuvin had left for a short vacation at his grandparents’, Hanbin had stayed longer than usual and the tea cups had been exchanged for some light alcohol. On the couch, flushed and teary-eyed, the single dad had listed everything that exhausted him, every point he considered a failure on his part, every disappointment and limitation that made him a terrible father. How he didn’t have the money to buy enough clothes for Gyuvin’s growing body, despite the three jobs he juggled without any break. How those jobs meant he wasn’t as present as he should be. How he had passed out the day before without cooking first, and Gyuvin had ended up going to bed on an empty stomach.
Zhang Hao had been very careful in the way he had answered, because he couldn’t exactly say what he was dying to suggest. He had plenty of unused money. He had plenty of time. None of those things would be an issue if Hanbin simply let Zhang Hao take care of him, like he had wanted to so badly for months. Hanbin’s smile was precious, and he worked so hard it threatened to dim, and maybe Zhang Hao was happy alone but he was happier in its presence. He wanted to reach out, hold Hanbin’s hand, whisper in his ear that everything would be alright and that he could rest now.
But that wasn’t appropriate, and Hanbin needed support more than someone making a move on him, so instead, Zhang Hao had made a promise.
“If there’s anything I can do for you… Be it money, or a service, or just talking, anything. Please come to me. I know you don’t want to be a burden, but you’re not. You’d never be. Let me give you a hand sometime, okay? You’re already stealing all my sugar, what’s a little more?”
Hanbin had chuckled wetly, and before leaving, Zhang Hao had been crushed in a hug too tight, for too long, with the smallest of thank you ’s murmured against his shoulder. Butterflies in his stomach had flown to the rest of his body, their wings fluttering under his skin, making his heart beat faster. This was a greater reward than he could ever pay for, Zhang Hao remembered thinking. Even if Hanbin emptied his bank account, he wouldn’t regret it.
Even now, with Gyuvin trying to climb onto his counter, he didn’t change his mind. Hanbin looked so desperate, after all, tired, pleading eyes with gorgeous eyelashes and pretty hands clasped together in a prayer.
“Again, I’m so sorry to ask you this. I really don’t see another option, otherwise I wouldn’t bother you. Usually I would send him at his grandma’s for the weekend, but she’s in the hospital, and I can’t pay for a nanny, and the dance recital is coming so I have extra hours for the rehearsal and leading the costume fitting for the kids, and I need to cover for a sick-”
“I already told you, it’s fine,” Zhang Hao smiled, empathetically patting his arm. “Taking care of Gyuvin for a day is going to be a breeze. He’s such a sweetheart, we’ll have a lot of fun.”
“Haha,” Hanbin smiled, strained, as his child finally managed to hop onto the counter and turn on the sink. “Yeah.”
“It will be fine,” he asserted once again, walking to Gyuvin and putting him back down before he could duck his head under the stream. “You already have enough on your plate as is, don’t worry about us.”
“Okay,” Hanbin nodded, still weary. “I trust you. Please call me if anything happens. I should come home at around midnight, so…”
“Yes, yes, you’ll see how well I managed then. Hanbin, you gave me a book’s worth of post-it notes. I know what to do. Go now, you’re going to be late.”
Hanbin called for the kid who came running, crouching to get on his level. You could see the family resemblance in their eyes, Zhang Hao thought. Starry, excited, full of love and wonder. He had a soft spot for the both of them.
“Gyuvin, are you ready for your sleepover at uncle Hao’s?”
“Yes!” the kid yelled too loud.
“Daddy will be here in the morning. Now it’s uncle Hao that will make the rules, and he’ll tell me everything if you’re naughty, so you listen to him well, okay?”
“Okay,” he nodded enthusiastically.
“Good! Have fun sweetie, I love you thiiis much!”
Hanbin opened his arms wide, and Gyuvin jumped on him for a hug in what was clearly a practiced way to say goodbye. Zhang Hao’s heart clenched at how adorable they were together. Hanbin drowned his son under playful kisses that made him screech and fight to escape, and then he straightened back up, facing Zhang Hao once more.
“Alright, I’m going now. Again, if anything happens-”
“Nothing will.”
Warm hands engulfed Zhang Hao’s fingers, immediately raising his whole body temperature a few degrees. Hanbin was so close, looking at him so eagerly, it made something go funny in his poor overheated brain.
“Seriously, Hao, thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you, you’re a lifesaver. I owe you so much.”
Zhang Hao tried to chuckle, but he mostly choked.
“No problem. Any time, really.”
Hanbin beamed at him, Zhang Hao went blind for a second, and then the door closed, leaving him alone with Gyuvin who was currently squinting suspiciously at the door and the last adult left.
What could go wrong?
“So, Gyuvin,” he said, clearing his throat. “Let’s have some fun today! What do you want to do?”
“You got games on your phone?” the kid asked, big-eyed.
Zhang Hao briefly thought about that gacha game he had been playing recently. If Gyuvin clicked on it, he would be ruined by microtransactions before dinner time.
“No. I don’t.”
The kid frowned at him, even more suspicious now.
“Liar,” he muttered.
“But hey, what do you think about watching TV? There are some nice cartoons on Netflix.”
“Cartoons are for babies,” Gyuvin huffed, crossing his arms. “And I’m eight and a half! I’m a grown up now!”
“There’s no age for enjoying cartoons!” Zhang Hao protested. “I love watching them! My favorite is Shin-chan. Do you know about it?”
“The ugly boring one? It’s for old people like dad. I hate it.”
Zhang Hao’s heart shattered just a little.
“Oh. Okay.”
“I want to play a game. Let’s play dinosaur!” he exclaimed, raising his arms.
Zhang Hao’s eyes darted to the table, where the stack of post-its carefully written by Hanbin was. There were twenty-seven of them, each carefully read and annotated last evening after he had agreed to Hanbin’s request. None of them talked about dinosaurs.
“Sure,” he carefully agreed. “How do you play?”
“You’re gonna be the triceratops,” Gyuvin articulated. “And I’m gonna be the velociraptor! And then I eat you!”
“Uh. Alright then.”
A moment passed, and Gyuvin put his tiny fists on his tiny hips, upset. It kind of reminded Zhang Hao of the way Hanbin posed before playfully chastising his kid. Cute.
“Triceratops aren’t on two legs! You can’t be standing up!”
“Okay, okay, yeah.”
Zhang Hao got on all fours with the distinct feeling that he was making a grave mistake. But Gyuvin was happy to play, and making this day enjoyable for him was the goal here. Zhang Hao wanted to let the kid have fun, have him tell his father how great of a nanny he was, and boom. A million points for Zhang Hao in Hanbin’s eyes. So many more opportunities to get closer as he’d become his go-to nanny.
There was only one slight, minuscule flaw in his brilliant plan, one he was reminded of when Gyuvin suddenly jumped on his back with a roar, hands curled like claws and tiny bones digging against his kidneys.
Zhang Hao did not know how to handle children.
Gyuvin pulled back the sleeve covering Zhang Hao’s forearm, leaned over it. And then, tiny, little, sharp baby teeth sunk into his delicate skin.
“OUCH!”
Zhang Hao jerked back, baffled, and Gyuvin got shaken with him, not letting go. It took a bit of wrestling to detach the kid from his flesh.
“You bit me!?”
“Well yeah? I’m eating you!”
“Do you bite your daddy like that?”
“He uses his triceratops powers to protect himself so I can’t reach him! You’re really bad at this game. You’re dead already.”
“Okay, no more biting,” Zhang Hao sighed, getting back on his feet. “Let’s play something else.”
“What can you play?”
Gyuvin looked more and more annoyed, and this spelled bad news. He couldn’t go back to Hanbin and tell him that he got abused his whole stay. Zhang Hao mentally flipped through Hanbin’s notes with a speed and accuracy he hadn’t summoned since he dropped off of uni.
Now, maybe Zhang Hao had no toys for kids and no parental skills, but he wasn’t foolish enough to go in without a plan. He had been a kid once, after all. And so, with Hanbin’s invaluable advice, he’d came up with a flawless activity list.
“Since you won the game, I’ll give you a reward! I have a huge closet, we can play dress-up!”
“No.”
It was amazing how such a small word could shatter Zhang Hao’s confidence.
“No?” he repeated, at a loss.
“Boy clothes are boring!”
“Not mine! I hate boring clothes!”
Gyuvin looked him up and down again. His oversized pink sweater and white shorts probably convinced him, because he grabbed Zhang Hao’s hand, ready to follow him.
“Okay. But you need to take pictures because I want to show daddy and Ricky after.”
“Sure, sweetheart.”
No idea who this Ricky was, but surely Hanbin knew and would take care of forwarding the pictures.
They went to Zhang Hao’s bedroom, where the closet was already opened and ready to be messed up. The very adult toys he usually hid here had been removed and carefully locked away in the bathroom cupboard. Gyuvin would sleep here, after all, and everybody knew that kids liked to put their noses where they didn't belong. However, he did keep his old clubbing gear accessible. Fishnets never traumatized anybody.
Just like Zhang Hao mentally prepared himself for, Gyuvin tore through his clothes, gutting the closet until there were colorful piles on his bed. It took Gyuvin a long time to examine his choices, putting on a piece or two before evaluating himself in the full-length mirror. Regardless of how big and ill-fitting the clothes were, Zhang Hao praised his styling and appearance endlessly, and Gyuvin preened under his positive words, agreeing proudly. The kid also put on accessory after accessory, looping bracelets two times and curling his fingers so the rings wouldn’t fall off.
After a while, Gyuvin banished Zhang Hao from his own bedroom, saying that he would put on a fashion show. As a good spectator, he placed a chair at the end of the hallway, and put on a grandiose playlist for a fashion week mood.
When Gyuvin finally came out, dressed with a green crop top from Thailand fitting him like a shirt and blue shorts looking like cargo pants, Zhang Hao raised his phone and strafed him with the flash on, screaming like a fangirl. Gyuvin was striking pose after pose, face hidden behind his huge sunglasses, but his giddy grin was still visible. Then he turned around, disappeared in the bedroom, and there was a few minutes of waiting before Gyuvin was ready to come out again.
By the time the kid was done playing, a jacket had been ripped, a beaded necklace had snapped, a pair of sunglasses had been broken, and it was time for lunch already. Zhang Hao had suffered for each one of them, but he needed to stay strong and unbothered to not break Gyuvin’s little heart. Honestly, it might have been his big adult heart menacing to break with how Gyuvin’s big round eyes filled with tears while saying sorry. Zhang Hao haphazardly threw his clothes in a pile, ready to mourn his lost possessions later. There was a mouth to feed first.
Zhang Hao wasn’t the best cook, but even he knew how to cook ramen. Thanks to Hanbin’s notes, he knew exactly the amount of spice and which toppings to add. A few minutes more of Gyuvin bouncing around his legs, and he had their bowls ready. Zhang Hao patted himself on the back, proud of himself. He did so well! Babysitting was easy. Gyuvin was such a… Gyuvin was collecting all of the noodles in his bowl onto his chopsticks and forcing the cheesy, spicy ball into his little mouth. His cheeks were already bulging from the first bite.
Well. At least he wasn’t choking on it. Yet.
With how fast Gyuvin had inhaled his food, he was ready to play more, and he’d already worn all of the clothes. But it was okay. Zhang Hao only needed to follow his plan. Even without Hanbin’s notes, he would’ve known what to do.
“You were so well behaved this morning, you get to pick the music! Is there any group you like?”
“ATEEZ!” Gyuvin shrieked, jumping up and down.
“Do you want to watch the performance on the TV?” he enticed him, feeling victorious.
“Yes!! Yes!! I want to watch San!!”
“Go sit on the couch, I’ll put it on!”
Gyuvin yelled as he ran through the apartment, climbing over the backrest which was almost taller than him to make it to his seat. Zhang Hao heaved a sigh of relief as he grabbed the remote, sitting next to the kid bouncing in excitement.
It didn’t take long for him to find a fancam Gyuvin deemed acceptable. Soon, the room was filled with his pitchy singing and wild arm movements.
“Wow, Gyuvin, you know the choreography!” Zhang Hao praised.
“Of course! You know, my daddy is the best dancer in the world and he taught me the dance. So I’m the best too!”
“That’s so cool! You want to show me?”
Gyuvin jumped up on his feet, and started dancing like there was no tomorrow as Zhang Hao hurriedly pushed the tea table to the side. The kid’s movements were clumsy and somewhat uncoordinated, but to his surprise, Gyuvin actually seemed to remember the steps despite turning his back to the screen. It was impressive, really, and the way he yelled a broken version of the lyrics made it some kind of warrior routine. By the time the song ended and Zhang Hao clapped, Gyuvin was out of breath, and yet his neverending enthusiasm was unaffected.
“Another!” Gyuvin demanded. “I want Deja Vu!”
And just like that, his little body consumed more energy than Zhang Hao could summon in a week as they went through the whole discography of the group. Finally, after the last cheers faded away along with Zhang Hao’s, Gyuvin sat back down on the couch, sweaty and red. It didn’t mean he was done with Ateez, though.
The little fan requested a series of variety appearances, which he talked over liberally to explain who San was and why he was the coolest man to have ever walked this earth. Zhang Hao was glad that Gyuvin had a father that wouldn’t be upset about the very obvious celebrity crush going on. By the time he got bored, a few hours had gone by, and it was with relief that Zhang Hao turned off the screen. The idols’ screams still echoed in his skull, and he felt vaguely nauseous from the overload of content.
“So it’s your daddy that introduced you to kpop?”
“Yeah! But his group is less good than mine. Ateez are the best ever. The songs daddy likes are bad.”
“He would be very sad to hear you talk about NCT like that,” Zhang Hao laughed.
Suddenly, Gyuvin was frowning again, side-eyeing him with even more doubts than earlier.
“How do you know daddy likes NCT?”
Zhang Hao’s brain flatlined. The real answer was that he had seen the photocard displayed on Hanbin’s desk during one of his visits, snapped a picture of it, asked on r/kpophelp whose face it was, and proceeded to secure a signed limited edition album with Jaehyun’s face on it as a birthday present for later this year. Gyuvin could not know he had been sleuthing to learn about his father’s interests. Did he just get outsmarted by an elementary schooler? No. He could bring this back.
“He told me when he came for tea once,” Zhang Hao smirked, proud of his excuse.
Gyuvin made a small “Oh,” thought for a few seconds, and then gasped loudly, looking like he had discovered the secret to the universe.
“So that’s why daddy is always so happy when he comes back! You talk about NCT together!”
The image of Hanbin, giggly and relaxed, coming back to his home after one of their meetings, was doing incredible things to Zhang Hao’s heart.
“He’s happy?”
“It’s not fair. Daddy always says we can’t invite Ricky to watch Ateez every day, but he goes to watch NCT with you!”
“That sounds rough,” he idly agreed.
“Uncle Hao!”
Gyuvin grabbed his collar, climbing on his lap and jamming a knee in Zhang Hao’s side. There was a manic light in his eyes.
“If you’re here to watch us, then daddy will let Ricky come! You’ll tell him you can do it, right?”
It took him a second to process the question, pushing the painful knee away. It was… a great idea, actually! Everyone benefited. Gyuvin got to see his friend, and Zhang Hao would become a much bigger part of Hanbin’s life. And yet, despite how brilliant this plan was, something bothered him.
“Your friend Ricky… is he as energetic as you are?”
Gyuvin froze and blatantly looked away.
“No. He’s really calm. And really obedient! Teachers love him! If he’s with me I don’t make big messes too.”
Zhang Hao hummed. It was interesting to witness just how bad of a liar Gyuvin was. He hoped for Hanbin that he would never learn how to do better.
“I see. Well, I make no promises, but I’ll talk to your daddy about it.”
“Yay!! Thank you uncle Hao! You’re the bestest uncle!! I love you!”
Gyuvin hugged him aggressively, wriggling like a fish out of water. Despite the complete understanding that the kid was trying to make his life more complicated and stressful, Zhang Hao couldn’t help but be touched by the overt display of affection. He hugged Gyuvin back, and then peeled him off of his strangled neck.
“I love you too, Gyuvin. Do you want to do something else now? Or maybe you feel tired, do you want to nap?”
“No, I want to play more!”
“Do you want to bake some cookies?”
Gyuvin loudly gasped, flapping his hands around.
“Can we eat them after?”
“Of course! That’s the point of baking them!”
“Yes! Yes yes yes yes!”
Gyuvin jumped over the couch and ran to the kitchen. Zhang Hao followed like any adult would, by awkwardly shuffling through the pins and needles running through his legs that had fallen asleep. It was a good thing that Gyuvin would stay entertained, even though his exhaustion at dealing with Gyuvin’s incessant begging for fun was getting worse.
At first, everything was going well. No, maybe that wasn’t the best way to put it; it was more so that Zhang Hao knew how to deal with expected chaos. He encouraged Gyuvin to break the eggs himself, and taught him how to fish out the broken bits of shell from the slimey whites. When Gyuvin accidentally elbowed a bowl that shattered on the ground, Zhang Hao simply cleaned the floor up under his tearful pleas for a forgiveness he already had. When Gyuvin dumped all of the flour in one go and turned their clothes white, they laughed together. And now, when Gyuvin tried to mix the dough by stabbing it ferociously with a wooden spoon, Zhang Hao couldn’t help but find him adorable.
“Do you bake a lot at home, Gyuvin?”
“No!”
“Really? Does your daddy bake alone then?”
“No! Daddy says cakes are evil and hate him and always taste funny when he makes them!”
“But then… Why do you always need sugar?”
“Daddy says he gets a little silly when he sees you and forgets he doesn’t need it!”
Oh.
Hanbin had never needed sugar.
It was an excuse.
Struck by lightning, Zhang Hao froze, his heart missed a beat, his stomach flip flopped around. Of course he knew it on some level, but hearing his son himself confirm it was making him see stars. Hanbin just wanted to see him, to talk to him. Hanbin was a little silly with him. There was a beast roaring inside of Zhang Hao’s chest, but he had to muffle it as long as Gyuvin would stay awake. Speaking of the kid, he suddenly gasped in horror.
“Oh no! I forgot I wasn’t supposed to tell you! Please don’t tell him I told you!”
Zhang Hao was still staring at the dough, unmoving. He was so smitten. Shy Hanbin, working up the courage to ask him for a date but failing. Adorable Hanbin, pretending again to need sugar so they could drink some tea together. Hanbin, beautiful, stunning, perfect Hanbin-
“Are you upset? Don’t be upset, please. Daddy gives all the sugar to this place that gives food to poor people. Except when I eat it first. He doesn’t throw it away!”
“I’m not upset,” he reassured him with a grin. “I’m really happy! Isn’t it great to be a little silly sometimes?”
“Yes! It is!” Gyuvin fervently agreed.
The dough was soon ready to rest, and after successfully pulling the kid away before he could lick it, Zhang Hao placed the bowl in the fridge for later. Gyuvin begged to play dinosaur again, which he declined, but then he needed to find another game. Something that would exhaust the kid, just like…
“So your daddy taught you Ateez’s dances? Can you teach me one too? I liked the Hakuna Matata one!”
“Uncle Hao, it’s Wave, not Hakuna Matata,” Gyuvin huffed, rolling his eyes.
“Do you think I could dance well?”
“I can try to help you,” he agreed, magnanimous. “Okay. Give me the music, I need it. Daddy makes them slow with a tick tok to learn, but I don’t have it so you need to really focus.”
“Yes sir!”
Gyuvin was surprisingly serious when he explained the steps to Zhang Hao. He got easily frustrated at his student’s mistakes, and even more frustrated at his inability to communicate properly what he wanted to say, but most of all he praised and encouraged Zhang Hao at every opportunity. Maybe that was the way Hanbin taught him. Zhang Hao wondered if he could ask to participate in their next teaching session, or if it was a strictly father-son activity.
“You know, I used to really like a boy group too!” Zhang Hao said during a break after handing the kid a big glass of fresh orange juice. “They’re called Got7, do you know about them?”
Gyuvin only frowned, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face.
“They were really popular when I was starting uni,” he continued. “They debuted in 2014 and-”
“Fourteen? I wasn’t even born. That was ten years ago. Your group is too old, of course I don’t know about them!”
Zhang Hao calcified. Bits of his soul cracked and flaked off, withered by time and old age. A decade, already? That didn’t sound right. Where had time gone? How was Gyuvin’s whole existence younger than his time as an Ahgase? Was Zhang Hao this ancient?
No. He couldn’t have an existential crisis in front of Gyuvin’s ruthless, innocently judging eyes. Time for positive affirmations. Zhang Hao was young. He was cool and trendy. Third gen kpop was still the best kpop and Jinyoung was still active. He could perfectly handle Gyuvin a few hours more, and connect with him.
“I used to do covers of their songs.”
“Oh yeah?” Gyuvin said, curious. “Can you show me?”
“It’s been a few years, so I need to have the dance practice in front of me, but sure!”
It was mildly terrifying, getting judged by a child with a professional dance teacher for a father on a choreography he had learned as a challenge years ago with a mirrored YouTube video. But Zhang Hao was nothing if not audacious, so he gave his all on Last Piece, and successfully earned claps from Gyuvin who judged his performance not that bad. But still, his daddy was better. Zhang Hao agreed easily, and they went back to Gyuvin’s lesson. By the time they were done with the chorus, Zhang Hao’s phone was ringing to signal the next step in their baking journey.
They did wash their hands thoroughly before going back to it, because Gyuvin seemed to have inherited his father’s sweaty palms.
“Alright, now it’s time to cut the cookies in fun shapes!”
Zhang Hao dug deep under the sink to find his little star-shaped cookie cutter. Gyuvin didn’t look impressed, and for once, he understood. Even with the promise that next time, he’d buy something better, Gyuvin had ran off before he could pull the bowl out of the fridge. Zhang Hao rolled out the dough, then prepared the tray that would go in the oven with a baking sheet. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Gyuvin strutting beside him, something shiny in his hand.
“What do you have here?”
“A knife!”
“NO!”
Zhang Hao whipped around, snatching the blade from Gyuvin’s clumsy hands. His heart was beating in his throat. Thirty seconds. That was all the little gremlin had needed to forage into the cupboard and grab a deadly weapon. In a cold sweat, Zhang Hao threw the knife back in its place, slammed the drawer shut, and pushed his butt against it to both make sure it stayed close and keep an eye on the kid.
“No knives! Knives are for adults only!”
“But I wanted to cut the cookies!” Gyuvin whined.
“We do that with cookie cutters!”
“But I want more fun shapes! Stars are boring!”
“Then we do it with our hands!”
“I can’t make a San cookie without a knife!”
Zhang Hao closed his eyes tight, feeling what little energy he still had run out. It was going to be okay. He could do it. It was fine. He just needed to follow the post-its. When Gyuvin doesn’t want to do something, make it a game or a challenge. Zhang Hao opened his eyes with a lot more confidence.
“Oh, you can’t? Because I bet I can.”
“No you can’t,” Gyuvin denied, upset.
“I bet I could do it better than you,” he insisted.
“No you couldn’t! You don’t even know what he looks like! I love him a lot more than you do!”
“Are you sure? Because you showed me so much of him, I think he became my favorite too.”
“No! You can’t! He’s my favorite! Mine!” Gyuvin screamed, his red ears betraying how genuinely upset he was.
“Then let’s prove it. We make a cookie each by hand, and the one that’s closest to San’s face wins and can keep him as his favorite.”
“Deal! You’re gonna be sorry!”
Gyuvin grabbed his step ladder and immediately got to work, ripping chunks of dough to slap them on the tray and try to shape them. Hao, relieved that his baiting worked, took his time cutting out the stars while Gyuvin sculpted his masterpiece. Finally, with the scrapped dough, he half-assed a somewhat face-shaped cookie. Gyuvin laughed so hard he fell on the floor, declaring himself the obvious winner, and Zhang Hao respectfully put the monstrosity the kid crafted on the baking tray. What mattered was that Gyuvin was proud of it.
They put it in the oven, cleaned up the flour on the counter and on themselves, and then Gyuvin got gently guided to the living room again.
“Let’s draw some stuff!” Zhang Hao declared, pulling out his old art supplies from the closet they had been rotting in. “Do you like drawing, Gyuvin?”
“I’m not very good. But my friend Ricky, he draws like, super good!” he bragged, snatching the paper he was handed and flopping onto the floor. “Ricky is so cool. He’s my best friend!”
“That’s nice! You could give him your drawing as a gift!”
“Nah, he’d make fun of me.”
“Well that’s not very kind of him.”
“No, you don’t get it! Ricky isn’t mean. He’s the kindest. And he’s always giving me gifts too! And also he’s so pretty he looks like a girl. Sometimes guys make fun of him and I bite them. Daddy says it’s bad but I don’t care. They were bad first.”
Zhang Hao sighed with a smile, reminded of his first crushes in elementary school, back when he didn’t know what love was. He kind of acted the same as Gyuvin described, back then. Maybe this whole Ricky thing wasn’t a crush at all, but regardless of the nature of Gyuvin’s love for him, it was pure and needed to be protected. He was so adorable, after all.
Then Gyuvin broke his Fabier Castel pencil by slamming it on the paper like a stake, and Zhang Hao’s bubble burst. He was still a kid, a real one that would run him over at the first sign of weakness. It was important to not get fooled by how cute he was.
Gyuvin only stopped drawing to go to the toilet, and after he came back, Zhang Hao decided to quickly make a trip to the bathroom too. Doing so, Zhang Hao happened to pass by the oven, and glanced at the oddly browned cookies. He paused. Then he noticed the thermostat cranked up to the max. Zhang Hao killed the heat and opened the door to the furnace, feeling a burning wave hit his face. He waited a few seconds, kneeling on the ground, before closing it again and inputting the right settings.
It could’ve burned. There could have been an actual fire in Zhang Hao’s apartment, and he didn’t even have the energy to freak out about it anymore. He stayed limp on the ground, forehead against the handle, defeated.
“Gyuvin,” he called.
“What?” the kid answered from the living room.
“Turning up the heat does not make the cookies bake faster.”
“Yes it does! This is how cooking works!”
Zhang Hao closed his eyes. He didn’t want to fight him on this. He couldn’t anymore. Tears were dangerously close to reaching his eyes.
“Please don’t touch the oven again. Please.”
“But it’s so slow!”
“We’re not eating them until after dinner anyway.”
“Then I want to eat now!”
Did it ever end? Would Zhang Hao ever get a break? His battery had run out long ago, and he could only wish for a few minutes of peace and silence.
“Say Gyuvin, did you ever pick what to eat for takeout by yourself?”
“No?!”
Gyuvin’s head plopped out of the couch, his big round eyes focused on the adult.
“Well, since you worked so hard on those cookies, you get to choose!”
Notes warning him of Gyuvin’s endless stomach flashed in his mind, making him add:
“But we’ll need to share! And uh, I have lots of allergies. So I’ll need to check first before we order, okay?”
“Yeah,” Gyuvin nodded. “Daddy always says health is the most important!”
“Daddy is right!”
Letting Gyuvin scroll on the food delivery app was the break Zhang Hao needed. Putting aside the heart attack he had when, after leaving him alone for a minute to check on the cookies, Gyuvin almost pressed the pretty “Pull x10” button on the screen full of anime boys, everything went smoothly. After checking the final order and balancing it out with more veggies, Zhang Hao added an extra serving for Hanbin. He might not have had time to eat by the time he came back, and if he did, leftovers would help for the day after.
Once their dinner was ordered, Gyuvin thankfully agreed to watch episodes of Boys over Flowers until the delivery arrived. It was Ricky’s recommendation, apparently. Zhang Hao took out the cookies during the episode to cool down. They were a little… crispy. Nothing inedible. For the rest of the wait, they both shared their excitement and thoughts over the events unfolding, playfully invested over the cliché story.
Looking at the clock, it was a bit late compared to his usual dinner time when the delivery man rang, but Gyuvin didn’t complain, jumping on the many dishes and stuffing his face despite Zhang Hao’s many pleas to slow down. It didn’t take long for Gyuvin to clean his plate, and once he was done, he diligently threw away the plastic and placed his chopsticks in the sink. He was so well behaved it erased every bad experience thus far. When Zhang Hao presented the plate of cooled cookies, Gyuvin held his hands out firmly as if to stop him.
“You can’t eat my San cookie. I want to show it to daddy tomorrow!”
“Good idea! Should we save mine too?”
“No, we can eat this one.”
Zhang Hao laughed, faking being hurt by his immediate decision.
“What? But I worked so hard on it!”
“It’s okay, uncle Hao. My daddy always says that if you train hard you can do anything! If you keep trying you can make cookies as good as mine too!”
“Your daddy is right, I’ll try harder next time!”
Gyuvin ate so much between the takeout and the cookies, Zhang Hao wasn’t sure how he didn’t end up in a food coma. Hanbin did say he was growing, and that endless energy had to come from somewhere, but that was still impressive to see. Thankfully, the kid didn’t make too much of a fuss when it came to getting into his pajamas and brushing his teeth. He did, however, ask extensive questions about the skincare products on the sink, tried to grab a razor blade first, and only agreed to get under the sheets in Hao’s bed after fully building and disassembling a pillow fort.
By the time Gyuvin was tucked in, it was an hour and a half past his bedtime. Zhang Hao was just happy that he made it to bed at all. There, with his small head resting amongst the too big pillows, Gyuvin looked like an angel. Zhang Hao tried to not worry too much about how awake he looked.
“Good night sweetheart,” he smiled, kissing him on the forehead like the notes instructed. “Are you ready to have nice dreams now?”
“My daddy always gives me ice cream before bedtime,” Gyuvin brazenly assured him.
Sadly for the kid, Hanbin had specifically left a note for this situation. If Gyuvin says I give him sweets before bedtime, he’s LYING. See the sugar rules post-it.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I’m all out of ice cream.”
“Oh.”
Gyuvin looked so sad and disappointed Zhang Hao almost caved in. Almost.
“But hey, you know what’s great? If you really want to, you can dream of sweets! A whole country made of cake, everything! Isn’t that great?”
The kid shuffled in his bed, looking up at him with a new light in his eyes.
“Uncle Hao, you write books, right? Can you tell me a story about the cake world?”
Zhang Hao did not write stories about cake worlds and definitely not stories fit for eight year olds, but how could he refuse such an adorable little face? So he improvised some nonsensical adventures about cupcakes and popsicles. Then Gyuvin asked for another one, so he scrambled to ducktape some basic plot together with a sugar coating. But Gyuvin didn’t like the rushed ending, so he asked for another, and by the fourth one Zhang Hao was out of children shows to plagiarize. Thankfully, Gyuvin had finally closed his eyes, and he took this opportunity to silently slither out of the bedroom.
His stay in the bathroom was mainly used to contemplate his failings as a storyteller. Sure, he never pretended to have improvisation skills, but his ego still took a hit. After his shower, he put on his pajamas, and adjusted his hair in the mirror so it would fall just the right way. Hanbin would be here very soon, and he wanted to look good for him. Finally, he walked out of the bathroom, drinking in how silent and calm it all was. After the chaos that had brought Gyuvin, it felt so good to finally, finally be alone.
“Boo!”
Zhang Hao turned to the voice in his back and ended face to face with a dark shadow at the very end of the hallway, his terror so absolute he actually jumped in the air.
“AAH!!”
Gyuvin was here, standing with his back to the light at the entrance of the hallway. Zhang Hao’s heart failed at the same time as his legs, collapsing on the ground. The kid was killing him. The bite, the knife, the oven, the creepypasta behavior after bedtime, it was all a plan to take Zhang Hao out because he wanted to steal his father’s attention. And it was working. Sobbing, humiliated, he wished death would come sooner.
“Oh, sorry,” Gyuvin said above him, embarrassed. “I didn’t think it would be that scary.”
“Please,” he begged. “Please just go to bed. Please!”
“But I’m not tired.”
“But I am! What can I do for you to go to bed?”
“If you’re so tired, why aren’t you going to bed?”
“Because I want to be here to welcome Hanbin,” he sighed, spread like a starfish on the floor.
Gyuvin frowned, as if in intense reflection.
“Your daddy,” Zhang Hao clarified. “I’m waiting for your daddy to come back.”
But Gyuvin’s frown only got deeper, his lower lip fully disappearing in his mouth as he chewed on it.
“Uncle Hao.”
“Yes?”
“Didn’t you give daddy your keys this morning?”
“I did.”
“But then you don’t need to be here to open the door?”
Zhang Hao closed his eyes.
“Unless…”
Zhang Hao wished he could close his ears.
“Unless it’s like the sugar with daddy! Uncle Hao! You’re silly for daddy!”
He hid his reddening face behind his hands. Zhang Hao had lost the fight. Utterly, completely lost. He couldn’t say yes to you’re silly for daddy, no matter how innocently and sincerely this sentence had been said, so he rephrased it.
“Yes, your dad makes me feel very silly,” he confirmed.
“Oh my gosh! I knew it!”
Gyuvin kneeled next to Zhang Hao, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder with a wise nod. Considering their age difference, it was hilarious.
“Uncle Hao. It’s okay. I know what’s happening.”
“Do you?” Zhang Hao chuckled, skeptical.
Gyuvin bent next to his ear and hid his mouth from the world with his hand, trying to whisper but really speaking at a regular volume with more air.
“You and daddy have a crush on each other!”
Zhang Hao’s heart fluttered. If Gyuvin thought so, there was no fighting it. His assessment would eventually reach Hanbin, and then… It would be anyone’s guess as to what would unfold. If Hanbin knew of his feelings…
“If that was the case,” Zhang Hao said. “What would you think about it?”
Because if anything could close the pearly gates of heaven for Zhang Hao, it was Gyuvin telling his father he wasn’t open for this kind of romantic shenanigans.
“I like to see daddy more happy. And you’re fun, you scream really loud when you’re scared. So it’s okay if you kiss sometimes. But not in front of me. It’s gross.”
He sighed in relief. If that was the price to pay, his lips wouldn’t go anywhere near Hanbin’s in Gyuvin’s presence. Not that they ever kissed. Or that a kiss was planned either. Zhang Hao just wanted to make sure that if a kiss were to happen, it would go smoothly. With a grunt, he sat up and held the kid’s hands.
“Look, Gyuvin. Whether or not this kind of sleepover happens again depends on you having a good time here. If Hanb- daddy comes back and you’re not in bed, he’s going to think I’m bad for you and you shouldn’t come back. You understand?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I’ll go back now, I just wanted to scare you. Can you tuck me in again?”
“Of course, sweetheart. Thank you for making an effort.”
Zhang Hao held him up when Gyuvin motioned for it, and brought the kid to his bed once again, putting him to sleep just as thoroughly as the first time. Gyuvin was still too excited to pass out, asking questions ranging from “Did you kiss daddy already?” to “Will you adopt a dog so I can get one?”. Zhang Hao understood why Hanbin was so good at evasive diplomatic answers. He had draconian training.
Gyuvin didn’t look sleepy in the slightest, but he did promise to stay in bed this time, and that was all Zhang Hao could hope for. With a last kiss on his forehead, he closed the door, and collapsed on the couch. Exhaustion reached his bones. Maybe he had fantasized about this short moment with Hanbin, but now he was too tired to care. Zhang Hao just needed him to come home and save his inadequate parental ass.
Staring at the ceiling, he considered his day. Gyuvin was a lovely kid. He made mistakes, was clumsy, and had a lot of energy, but all of it was wrapped in a bundle of joy so overpowering it was the only thing that ended up mattering. It was clear Gyuvin had been raised with love, and that he had been taught good lessons. Hanbin was a great father, and Gyuvin’s boundless love for himself and others was the proof of it.
But still.
This was a lot.
What would it be like, to come back home after a grueling work day and be faced with Gyuvin wanting to play every day? Sure, Hanbin had incredible stamina and more goodwill than anyone he ever met, but this was every day for eight years, and many more to come. How did Hanbin do it? Even with a routine, even with natural talent, even with years of experience and tricks…
Zhang Hao thought back to that day on this very couch, where Hanbin had shown his cracks for the first time. Maybe he was very tired, sometimes. But he couldn’t allow himself to break under the pressure. Because if he failed, who would be there to take care of Gyuvin? Who would be there to catch Hanbin?
Yes, he was exhausted. But Zhang Hao would do it a hundred times over if it meant that Hanbin could breathe easier.
As if his thoughts had summoned him, a light knock on the door followed by the rattle of keys warned Zhang Hao of his arrival. He got up, tugging on his pajamas to look more presentable.
Hanbin looked surprised to see him behind the door. Beyond the surprise, he looked completely drained. His pretty eyes were circled by shadows, his brow was furrowed even after relaxing with his expression, and his usually squared shoulders were slumped.
“Oh, Hao… You’re still up?”
“Of course. Come in, give me your bag. Did you eat already?”
“Not since lunch, no,” Hanbin sighed, handing him his stuff. “Thank you. How’s Gyuvin?”
With a nod, Zhang Hao put away the bag and took the extra food out of the fridge.
“In bed. I don’t think he’s sleeping, though. I kept some for you, do you want me to reheat it now?”
Hanbin didn’t answer right away, and when he turned to look at him, the man had tears in his eyes.
“Ah, it’s so kind of you, thank you,” he smiled casually, blinking fast. “In case Gyuvin is still up, I’ll go see him.”
Zhang Hao didn’t point out his clearly fragile emotional state, respectful of his privacy. Instead they went to his bedroom, Hanbin walking in while Zhang Hao stayed by the door. Gyuvin bounced upright, fully awake, making grabby hands at his dad with a whine.
“Hi sweetie,” Hanbin smiled, sitting on the bed to hug him tight. “You’re not asleep yet?”
“I wanted to see you,” Gyuvin said, muffled against his father’s chest.
“Did you have a good time with uncle Hao?”
“Yes!” he screamed. “The best! We had a fashion show, and we baked cookies, and we ate yummy food and I taught uncle Hao about Ateez and the dance for Wave!”
“Wow!” Hanbin gasped. “All that? And you don’t feel sleepy?”
“I do, a little…”
“Then should you go to sleep now?”
“Wait, wait, also-”
Gyuvin tugged Hanbin closer, whispering something to him. Zhang Hao didn’t hear, but he did see the father’s ears turn a bright red and the son look his way with a proud smile. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.
“Ah, I see,” Hanbin chuckled, embarrassed.
“Okay, I’m ready now. Can you sing the lullaby please?”
“Sure sweetie. Settle down…”
Gyuvin tugged the sheets under his chin, gazing at his father with stars in his eyes. He looked at Hanbin like he hung the moon in the sky for him, and, from what little Zhang Hao saw of their lives, he probably did.
Hanbin sang a light melody, words melding together into an airy hum. It was soothing, even to Zhang Hao, and it was no surprise that Gyuvin’s eyelids quickly became heavy. In less than a minute, the child was asleep, and Hanbin sweetly kissed his forehead before getting up.
Zhang Hao’s heart had bled out on the ground, devastated by the sweetness of the scene. He collected himself as they came back to the kitchen, and put the dish in the microwave. Hanbin quietly asked him if they were sharing, but Zhang Hao shook his head. He had enough cookies in his stomach to last him a day or two. They sat down at the table next to each other under the yellow light.
“How was Gyuvin today?” Hanbin asked in a whisper between two bites, mindful of his son’s sleep.
“Oh, he was adorable. An angel.”
Hanbin stared at him, deadpan. Zhang Hao sighed.
“Okay, he bit me as soon as you left.”
“I told him to not play dinosaur with you…”
“And he broke a few things…”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Why? I meant it. He is adorable. And you gave me plenty of warnings.”
“I…”
Hanbin searched for his words, pushing the vegetables to the side just like Gyuvin had done earlier.
“I love him to death, but I also know that he can be… a lot. Thank you for not getting upset at him.”
“I could never. Seeing him sad is like stabbing my chest over and over again. But…”
Zhang Hao put a careful hand on Hanbin’s shoulder.
“It’s a lot, you’re right. So it’s okay if you need me to step up more often. You’re always taking on so much, you need to rest sometimes. And even when you’re here and still have some energy, I can be with you to make things easier. Take on a little bit of your daily load. I’d love to.”
Hanbin blinked, and tears fell onto his cheeks out of nowhere. He choked out a small laugh, pressing fingers at the corner of his eyes.
“Ah, sorry. I don’t know why I… I never cry usually. Today was so tiring…”
“It’s okay,” Zhang Hao murmured, gently rubbing his arm.
“I have nothing to give you in exchange. I can’t pay you, and I’m…”
“Do you think I’m doing this because I want something from you, Hanbin?”
He looked away, flushing, and rubbed his face dry with his sleeve.
“I know you’re not looking for money. But you…”
Hanbin’s eyes trailed to the hand on his shoulder, and Zhang Hao’s stomach dropped. Did he somehow send a terrible message? Did he make Hanbin uncomfortable by being too forward? This terrifying spiral of thoughts was easily broken by warm fingers overlapping his.
“You’re too kind. You’re giving me so much, it feels bad to give nothing back.”
Zhang Hao remembered to breathe. Relief was too weak of a word to describe the way he felt. His head was spinning a little.
“Ah, don’t worry about it,” he stupidly said. “Do you want to see Gyuvin’s fashion show after you’re done eating? He really wanted you to see them.”
“Yeah, I’d love to,” Hanbin smiled warmly, and Zhang Hao felt even stupider.
Hanbin told him about his day while finishing his dish, how the little girls he was training for the dance performance were nervous so he had to encourage them after the costume fitting, how his manager had caused a scene at his retail job, how a patron had thrown his drink behind the bar so he had to beg the other barista to switch pants with him so he wouldn’t come home smelling of vodka. It sounded exhausting, and perfectly explained how tired he looked. It also made Hao’s heart painfully squeeze in his chest.
After migrating to the couch, Zhang Hao pulled out his phone, scrolling through the recent pictures and adding some commentary pertaining to Gyuvin’s style. Hanbin laughed at every photo of his son, and somehow, his hand ended up covering Zhang Hao’s, too. Their shoulders and thighs were pressed together, and, honestly, it was getting harder and harder to focus. So hard that he actually scrolled too far and showed Hanbin an embarrassing selfie before turning off the screen. Quick, a distraction.
“Also, one of the cookies Gyuvin baked is San’s portrait. From Ateez. He’s very proud of it, I’ll let him show it to you tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”
“Ah… Uhm… speaking of surprises.”
After another short hesitation, Hanbin contorted to pull out a pink notebook from his back pocket. It had a tiny pencil attached, and it was small, clean, pretty. Brand new.
“When I was on break, I saw this next to the shop. And I thought back to how you said you always get frustrated because you want to remember your ideas but you hate typing on the phone, right? So… I thought maybe you’d like it? I took the pink one, since it’s your favorite color. There are little hearts on the pages… I thought you’d like it.”
His heart beating faster, Zhang Hao took the notebook. Hanbin had thought about him. He had considered his needs, and given him something so perfectly tailored to his tastes. This was too beautiful to be true.
“If this is some kind of payment-”
“It’s not,” Hanbin quickly clarified. “It’s a gift. I just… wanted you to have it. Is it okay?”
“Oh, Hanbin. Of course it’s okay. It’s a lot more than okay! Thank you so much, I’m really touched. You’ll get a special thanks at the start of my next book!”
Hanbin chuckled, relieved. Zhang Hao couldn’t understand how he ever doubted the way this interaction would go.
“I don’t deserve it.”
“You do, though,” Zhang Hao frowned.
“I’m always bothering you, and making you waste time you could spend writing…”
“Time with you is never wasted. Not with Gyuvin, either. I can’t let you think that.”
Hanbin hummed, his face turning pink as his eyes got misty again.
“You can’t tell me that. I’ll end up believing you, and then I’ll ask for more and you’ll get dragged down.”
And Zhang Hao didn’t want to overstep, didn’t want to go where Hanbin wouldn’t be comfortable, but he hated the idea of him sincerely thinking that even more. So he took Hanbin’s hand, delicately, carefully.
“Gyuvin was exhausting, but he made me happy. Isn’t it how you feel about him, too?”
“Of course I do,” he whispered.
“Well it’s the same with you. Your circumstances don’t matter. You make me happy.”
Hanbin laughed, a nervous thing clearly meant to hold back his tears. Still, his fingers curled around Zhang Hao’s.
“But it’s so much. I- I know I’m not… easy to choose. I work all the time. I have Gyuvin to care for. I’m not even thirty and I already had a divorce!”
“And yet, I’m still here, am I not?”
They stared at each other in the silence of the apartment. Hanbin was red, clear pearls clinging to his lashes, eyes full of hope and something else Zhang Hao hoped he recognized accurately. It was late, and they were tired, and their hands had never held each other’s so tightly before.
“It would be great if you could be my boyfriend,” Hanbin breathed out.
“Gyuvin just gave me his blessings today,” Zhang Hao smiled. “I’ve heard that you’re as silly for me as I am for you?”
For a second, he thought Hanbin was about to break down sobbing. Instead, trembling lips pressed against his, and in an instant, all of Zhang Hao’s restraint was vaporized. Hanbin wanted this. He wanted to get closer, he wanted to be his boyfriend, he wanted Hao. With his heart beating in his throat, Zhang Hao kissed him back, his free hand crawling up Hanbin’s chest. He was so beautiful, so precious, so perfect-
“Daddy?”
They separated with a gasp, turning against the couch’s backrest to see Gyuvin in the hallway. Did Zhang Hao already break the only demand the kid had in regards to his relationship with his father?
“Y-yes sweetie?”
“I threw up.”
Hanbin closed his eyes, so many emotions flickering through his face after being interrupted at such an important moment. Zhang Hao felt like he should take care of the situation, if only to prove to Hanbin that Gyuvin inevitably breaching their privacy and more intimate moments to come wasn’t a dealbreaker.
“I’ll take this one.”
Hanbin looked equally relieved and sorry.
“Do you know how to clean up puke…?”
“I will figure it out,” he asserted with more assurance than he felt.
Gyuvin had joined them, climbing on his father’s lap, and by the time Zhang Hao had managed to make his bedroom hospitable again, they had both fallen asleep, curled around each other. That was all the fun Hanbin and him would get tonight, he figured. Careful to not wake them up, Zhang Hao took out a plaid and covered them up as best as he could. Hanbin stirred despite all his efforts, lightly grabbing his hand.
“Let’s talk tomorrow,” he whispered, drowsy.
Zhang Hao lightly ran his fingers through his dark hair.
“Of course. You can rest, for now.”
The words he had wanted to say for so long, finally pronounced in the open. Hanbin made a small noise, like a whine, and Gyuvin echoed it in his sleep. Just like that, he was sleeping again. Zhang Hao didn’t want to let go of his limp hand, so he sat down next to them, on the other side of his couch, and closed his eyes.
He loved the silence, and being alone, but he was excited to see how life sounded with two more people holding his hands through it.
Never alone again.