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The sun’s rays filtered through the crack between the curtain that wind played with. It hit the ring encircling Minghao’s left ring finger, waking Mingyu who was sleeping right next to him. Mingyu slowly opens his eyes to the scene in front of him and was left staring. Mingyu had always thought that mornings were the bane of his existence, but that changed when he started sharing the same bed as Minghao.
Minghao is still sleeping, with his hair partly covering his face. Mingyu reaches out to move strands away from his face, adamant on seeing his husband’s face without any sort of obstruction; Mingyu reasons that it’s only right with a slight huff.
Mingyu lived for these quiet moments in the morning—to simply see Hao sleeping peacefully as if there’s no burden he’s carrying. There’s a softness to him that’s only seen in moments like this. He began lightly tracing Minghao’s eyes, nose, and lips; dark lashes fan out against his slightly rosy cheeks, with his pinkish lips turned up into a small pout where small puffs of breath can be heard. Smitten as always as he is with Hao’s actions, Mingyu finds himself falling in love again.
His fingers continue to travel down Minghao’s arm, stopping when he reached his husband’s hands. He looks at their clasped hands and brought Minghao’s fingers to his lips, carefully kissing the digits. Minghao’s hands have the tendency to be cold—always in need of being wrapped up warmly or at least be near a source of heat.
Luckily for both of them, Mingyu is enough to be that said source of heat that Minghao joked that he has to keep Mingyu near him at all times because of how susceptible he was to the cold. This may explain why Mingyu is so adamant on reaching out for Hao—it is as if he has some built-in need to keep him warm. It certainly explains why their friends always find them playing with each other’s fingers or holding his hands.
Mingyu always had a fascination with Minghao’s hands—they are delicate yet hold so much power—be it art-related or Mingyu-related. Laughing to himself, Minghao has had Mingyu wrapped around his finger since day one. He thinks back to the night he proposed to Minghao.
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“Minghao.”
The two were in Mingyu’s penthouse that overlooks the city. The place used to be so dismal with achromatic colors and minimal furniture the renovator chose for him. Minghao came in and was appalled by the lack of color that he set up a tiny studio in one of the spare rooms and painted enough canvases to hang all over the house. The two are now found snuggling under a heavy blanket, with Minghao trying to get as much warmth as he can from Mingyu. Minghao shifted his head up from where it was resting at Mingyu’s neck at hummed a small, “Hmm?”
“Let’s dance.”
“Dance?” Minghao questioned as went on his knees in order to properly look at Mingyu. At this position, Minghao can see Mingyu’s imploring eyes beneath him. Maybe he’s too drunk after drinking too much wine, but he now sees what people mean by how Mingyu resembles a puppy—big brown eyes looking at him like he holds the world’s answers. Hao giggles, “You promised never again after stepping on my toes too many times since Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s anniversary celebration.”
Mingyu whined and buried his face into Hao’s tummy, mumbling something that came out incoherent. “I… drunk … unavoidable,” were one of the few words Hao was able to make out. Amused, he played with Mingyu’s hair as the big baby continued to whine.
It wasn’t as if Minghao was going to refuse Mingyu’s request of dancing; he just wanted to see the big man whine. Plus, he liked how Mingyu hugged him like this. The man was always the big spoon, always adamant on wrapping himself around Minghao—be it his shoulders, waist, and just his hands. Minghao treasured these moments where he became the one Mingyu leaned on instead of the other way around. Little did he know, Mingyu likes to be coddled once a while by Hao as well.
Giggling at his boyfriend’s antics, Minghao got up and went to set up the music and played a familiar song.
“It’s been a while Hao,” Mingyu said smiling as he heard the first notes. He walked towards his boyfriend and bowed, “May I have this dance?”
Shaking his head, Minghao decided to play along. “Only if you promised to not step on my poor toes, Mr. Kim.”
“I can’t guarantee that, but I can promise to stay and take care of the injured toes if need be—be at your beck and call for cooking, cleaning, and overall spoiling.”
“I don’t need to be injured for you to spoil me. You do that well-enough without me being injured. What more if I really were?” Minghao asked, eyes twinkling with mischief as he accepted Mingyu’s hands and started slow dancing.
The two were swaying to the music, with Minghao’s head laying comfortably on Mingyu’s shoulder. Both were silent, basking in intimate feeling of it all. In just a few days, it would be their third Christmas together. And the song they were dancing right now is the same one that they danced to years ago—a song that gave words to what Mingyu feels as he looks at Minghao.
“Hao?”
“Hmm?” Minghao lifted his head up and looked at him. Hao was always beautiful to him, but for some reason he looked the most beautiful he’s ever been in Mingyu’s eyes. His brown eyes were warm and reflecting the lights of the city, cheeks slightly rosy and lips red from the wine they’ve drank too much of, and his fairy-like ears poking out of his hair. There was so much love in those eyes that Mingyu can’t even begin to explain why.
He has felt more often than he wanted to that him and Minghao were too different—consistently butting heads over the most mundane things. They were too passionate and stubborn about their ways that Mingyu thought they wouldn’t last a day dating each other, much less three years and counting.
Mingyu found himself reminiscing the past three years of being with Minghao. It’s been the happiest three years of his life. Yes, they’ve fought countless times about the most mundane things, yet he would rather spend the rest of his life arguing over such things than end up with a quieter life with somebody else. Mingyu knew that he would propose—there was no ifs about it, only when.
The song plays again as Mingyu looked backed at Minghao. The singer’s soft voice sings out, “Silently without a word, you stand there, turning into what love looks like,” and Mingyu knew—just as he knew then three years ago.
Minghao was still waiting for answer, confused as to why Mingyu suddenly said his name. The other’s gaze was full of love, but it seemed that it was also guarded. As to why Minghao did not know. He was about to ask what’s wrong when Mingyu suddenly dropped to one knee.
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He wouldn’t have thought that he would be owning a house with Minghao 5 years down the line after first seeing him during a party that was hosted by a mutual friend. The two were too stubborn to admit their feelings; it was grueling work for their friends who watched in amusement as both Mingyu and Minghao claimed that they despised each other, but their actions and their tendency to be in each other’s orbit prove them otherwise.
Smitten with his husband and the memories they created together, Mingyu places a soft kiss on Minghao’s forehead and whispers, “I love you.” He slips out of bed and finds a sweater he haphazardly threw on the floor yesterday. Though it was technically winter, Mingyu sleeps shirtless under the sheets because of his husband’s reasoning. Mingyu snorted as he remembered how Minghao stuttered through his explanation of it being an easier way to get warmer. Mingyu knew better, but he wasn’t complaining. Minghao said it best the night he proposed: Mingyu spoils him to no end already.
He silently leaves the bedroom. He wanted Minghao to sleep as long as possible given he barely has time to rest with all the projects Hao was determined to take—when his husband was not modeling, he’s stuck in his studio painting until Mingyu drags him away with the help of food or kisses.
Their hallway was covered with Minghao’s artworks and pictures from their lives over the past years they’ve been together. The frames held pictures of their families, friends, some of his husband’s photoshoots, articles of their career, their dogs, and one very important person to both him and Minghao.
Mingyu yawns as he padded down the hallway, trying to be as silent as possible. Slipping in quietly through one of the doorways, he greets the two golden retrievers that were sleeping in this particular room. Whispering softly, he patted both Pot and Lid and showered them with praises. A couple of minutes later, Mingyu heard small huffs of breath from the other side of the room and knew a loud cry was about to follow.
Before she opens her mouth and wakes up Minghao, Mingyu popped his head in her vision. “Hi bub, I’m just in time to stop you from waking up your dad.” Despite her apparent distress, Haneul greeted him a gummy grin and began closing and opening her small fists in an attempt to be picked up. Mingyu finds it too adorable for words and carefully lifts her up before she starts crying again. Kissing her forehead, Mingyu gently rocked her in his arms. “We’re getting better at stopping your early morning cries, little one.”
Mingyu walks out of his daughter’s room and heads straight to their backyard. Haneul scrunches her tiny nose at the slight saltiness of the air but is transfixed by the rolling waves that Pot and Lid are playing in.
Mingyu and Minghao knew that they wanted to live near the beach, but they postponed the move several times given there was really no need to move out since both of their jobs were stationed at the city; hence, living in Mingyu’s penthouse made the most sense. However, with the arrival of Haneul, both of them knew that living in a hectic city wasn’t a good idea. So, they set out to find a home near a beach that they could easily customized to their own needs and preferences. They still visit the city a few times a month due to their job and to bother her uncles, but sometimes it’s the uncles who need a getaway from the city and crash at their place for an indefinite amount of time.
After getting some fresh air, Mingyu brings them back inside to feed her before she starts crying. Small victories, Mingyu thinks. He grabs a pot and places some water inside it to boil in order to warm up his daughter’s milk. Mingyu then reaches for the premade bottle of milk sitting in the fridge right after and gently dropped it in the bowl. Haneul’s eyes went wide and reached for it, knowing that it’s her own kind of ambrosia.
“Now, now. We have to warm it up first, sweetheart.” As he was waiting for the bottle to warm-up, he could hear sniffles starting to increase in both volume and frequency.
Of course, children love to spite you, and Haneul is not an exception, especially since the little one is starting to teeth. He can see the tiny culprit emerging from her reddened gums as she expressed her distress. Mingyu tries to make amends by making her laugh and blowing a raspberry on her tummy; his efforts were in vain as Haneul continues to cry louder, loud enough that Mingyu knew it would inevitably wake Minghao.
“Baby, you know I would, but I can’t make the milk heat up any faster. So, please try not to wake up your dad.”
“Too late.” Mingyu flinched when he hears the soft voice behind him. Minghao has his hips leaning on the counter that overlooks the living room. He seems amused by the scene Mingyu and Haneul are making.
“Uh-oh. We’ve been found out, sweetheart.” Mingyu tries to make an exaggerated face to make Haneul laugh, but instead it got her crying more—her hunger is winning out.
“Give her to me, Gyu.” Mingyu follows without protest. The little rascal immediately becomes quiet once she was in Minghao’s arms. Mingyu can’t help but be jealous at how Hao was able to calm her down easily since it takes a while for her to do so with him. But he can’t blame his daughter though when he’s in the same state as she is: wrapped around Minghao’s finger.
Hao walks into the living and sits on the sofa, gently rocking Haneul in his arms as Mingyu continues to watch over the heating milk bottle. Haneul, on the other hand, is enamored with her dad—her big brown eyes taking in Minghao as if he is the world’s greatest creation. Minghao can’t help but coo at his daughter. She is too adorable for words. Not too long after, Mingyu passes Minghao the warmed bottle and settles in behind the two.
“Sorry for waking you.” Mingyu presses a kiss to Hao’s temple.
“It’s fine. I prefer spending mornings with the two of you, rather than continue sleeping.” Minghao looks up from Haneul, who was suckling the life out of the bottle, to smile at Mingyu. Hao looks at him softly, his eyes full of love.
Unable to stop himself, Mingyu gives Hao a kiss on the lips and whispers, “Thank you.” Minghao looks at him, questioning why he suddenly said that, but Mingyu shakes his head in response. Instead, he leans over and kisses Haneul’s forehead then wraps an arm around Minghao’s waist, rubbing it soothingly. Sighing in contentment, Mingyu wonders how he’s so lucky to have found the meaning of home through the two.