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His aunt picked him up in her nice, sensible Camry. The first thing Donghyuck noticed about her was her hair; it was as neat and pressed as he remembered it. A mask covered her face, which she took off to let dangle from one ear when she saw him approaching. Donghyuck’s mother trailed behind him. When he came within arm’s reach, her eyes crinkled, and she cupped his jaw, pinching it a little.
“It’s good to see you,” she said.
He grinned against her fingers, though his smile was hidden because of his face mask. “You too, auntie.”
She nodded at his mother, who stepped in and gently pushed Donghyuck aside to give her a hug.
“Have lots of fun,” his mom said. She pressed her face against his aunt’s shoulder for a moment and then broke off the hug.
“Of course,” he said. His aunt rubbed his mom’s back. “I haven’t seen the beach in forever. I’ll be so much tanner when you see me again.” His aunt lived in a coastal city, a three-hour drive from home. Donghyuck thought he was acting well, sure that he wasn’t pitching his voice too heavy or sentimental, that it was in the right zone of casual.
The three of them smiled at each other awkwardly next to his aunt’s car. Donghyuck’s fingers worried at the strap of the backpack he was wearing, the one tic he’d allow himself. His aunt started, “Do—” just as his mother burst into tears. He and his aunt stared.
His aunt’s hand on his mom’s back, at one point soothing, now began giving her little warning pinches. His mom hiccuped. “Lord,” his aunt said, exasperated. “We’ve already been through this during Donghyuck’s freshman year.”
“Nooo,” his mom warbled pitifully, and he found it hard not to smile. “It’s different. That was expected. That was developmental. This is tragic.”
His aunt sighed, crossing her arms. “You two, hug. Then we’re leaving. Donghyuck, you sure all you need is a backpack?”
“Yeah. Just got my laptop and some clothes. Some school stuff.”
He hugged his mom, who was still sniffling. He felt her inhales against his chest. “So dramatic,” he said, teasing, but he held her tight.
She was the one to break the hug. “Well,” she said, breathing loudly, “I’m allowed some things in life.”
“Bye, mom. Let’s Facetime this weekend.”
“Don’t forget.”
Donghyuck got in the car.
He drove himself and his aunt away from home and towards his aunt’s apartment. He had music privileges because he was driving, and when the first song played, in English, his aunt scoffed. “Youthful stuff,” she said. They made small talk. About how his mom’s business was doing. The best tofu soup places. The weather. How early the sun had been setting.
Donghyuck slept on the sofa because there wasn’t enough room in his aunt’s apartment for a second bed. He knew this before coming. Her apartment was located in a series of apartment complexes managed by the same company, and their complex was the closest to the street. The faint sound of traffic helped him sleep at night.
The water pressure from the showerhead bothered him at first; he wasn’t used to water feeling like hard pellets. He learned, after complaining to his aunt, how to adjust the settings.
Donghyuck unfolded himself into his aunt’s space like that, over a few days, getting used to the differences between here and home.
He received a text from a high school friend while he was swiping idly on Tinder. New city, new gays to assess. Never mind that he wasn’t going to meet up with any of them.
you in town?, the text from Sungchan said.
nah, he texted back.
oh couldve sworn from your ig stories
I’m at my aunt’s place rn
ooh mb. was going to hit you up for a hike or something
next time!!! Donghyuck sent, though he was in one of those moods where he felt like he’d never desire social interaction again.
His aunt took him to the beach.
“The sun sets at 5:14 today,” she said at lunch.
“Yeah?” he said, not really following.
“I was thinking we could go to the beach, see the sunset,” his aunt said.
Donghyuck remembered distantly that was something he’d wanted to do. “Sounds good. Nice timing too, ‘cause I start school next week.”
They headed out in the late afternoon. Donghyuck hadn’t been in the car since he’d driven to his aunt’s place.
“I’ll drive this time,” she said.
She took him to a local ice-cream place first. When he stepped out of the car, he was shocked by how many people were out and about, how many people were in line for ice-cream. It was winter. He thought it could’ve been a beach city thing. He put on a face mask and lined up.
“Strawberry for me,” his aunt said, huddling beside him. She came up to his chest.
He squinted at her in offense. “Aren’t you treating me? Your favorite nephew?”
“Never said I wasn’t! I was just stating what I’m getting.” Donghyuck made a noise of disbelief. “But since you’ve been so rude, maybe not.”
They bickered to the front of the line, at which point all fronts were thrown aside, and they instead fought over paying. Donghyuck won by physically blocking her from the cashier, easily tapping his card to the checkout screen. His aunt grumbled.
They walked to the beach with their ice-cream. The sun was low and close to disappearing; most of the people around them were heading to the beach. Donghyuck imagined what they’d look like from an aerial view— something like ants paddling towards a whirlpool.
His aunt easily traversed the pebbles on the sand. He took more time, mindful of getting his shoes wet. The shoes were a mistake, he saw now. His aunt was a few meters ahead, scouting for a place that was less crowded and where they could finally eat their ice-cream. His was dripping a little from the sides of the cup. It made his fingers stick together.
As he walked, he looked at the groups of people sitting on the short, black rocks edging the shore. Some of them were his age, loudly playing Jhene Aiko and Mulatto from their phones. Some were with family. They were staring out into the sea, expectant.
Donghyuck caught up to his aunt. He took obligatory sunset pictures and made his aunt take backlit shots of him for his Tinder profile. He looked at the water and noticed how weird and surreal all the ripples looked when squashed from his vantage point. The water splashed his shins. He thought about his mom’s dry-cleaning shop, how badly it was doing. The last time he was living at home and not helping out at the shop was when he was fifteen. Now he was living with his retired aunt because her joblessness meant that she was safer, and that he was safer.
It had been maybe a minute, but the sun was gone.
Some blue-haired guy knocked on the door, unannounced. Donghyuck had no idea who he was. He stared at him a bit through the peephole before opening the door.
“I’m here for Miss Lee?” the boy—he must be around his age— said, and Donghyuck could tell that he was smiling under his mask.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Jaemin,” the boy said. “Miss Lee’s weekly lunch buddy. My mom usually comes too, but she couldn’t make it today.”
“Hold on,” Donghyuck said, and closed the door in his face. He texted his aunt because he couldn’t be bothered to walk or yell across the apartment. The reply from his aunt confirmed that Jaemin was a welcome guest.
Donghyuck opened the door again. Jaemin was still smiling. “Come in,” he said. Their guest walked to the kitchen habitually and washed his hands. Donghyuck followed him. He could hear his aunt’s footsteps.
“Welcome, Minnie! Sorry about Donghyuck, he can be a little grouchy sometimes.”
“No worries, I’d be worried too if some stranger says he’s looking for my auntie.” Jaemin took off his mask and threw it in the bin, and Donghyuck noticed as he turned away that there was something like blush applied to his cheeks—that, or his cheeks were naturally flushed. It looked good on him.
Jaemin turned to them again, and Donghyuck was struck by his handsomeness full-on, no longer covered by the mask. He was stupidly good-looking. He could glitter under the sun and Donghyuck wouldn’t scoff, only stare stupefied. He was aware he was about to do something gay and stupid and fueled by months of his social skills rotting from disuse.
“J—”
“Let’s order from that one Thai place!” his aunt exclaimed. “Sorry, Donghyuck, what were you going to say?”
“Literally nothing,” he said. “Was just about to ask Jaemin what he’d like to eat. Thai sounds good.”
“Sounds good to me too,” Jaemin agreed.
Jaemin came more than once a week, often alone. Donghyuck estimated it was every four to five days. Sometimes he just hung out with his aunt while Donghyuck was in class, and sometimes they all hung out together. He was afraid to ask his aunt whether Jaemin’s visits had increased after he arrived—weren’t his visits only supposed to be a lunch thing? —but he couldn’t deal with his aunt knowing, so he didn’t ask.
Jaemin, also, for some reason, liked to play footsie with him. Or, he wasn’t sure if it was footsie. Sometimes Jaemin’s foot brushed his leg under the kitchen table while they were eating, but it was brief enough to pass as an accident, though suspiciously, it kept happening. Donghyuck never knew what his move should be—make eye contact with Jaemin, if he was even looking at him? Touch his leg back? At this point, their longest rally was three foot touches. It was a little sad he kept count. Donghyuck wasn’t sure if Jaemin was attempting subtlety or if it was all in his mind.
It happened one day when Jaemin kept nuzzling his neck while they were watching some movie.
“I don’t, um, live here,” Donghyuck said.
Jaemin stopped and looked at him, confused. He kept his arms wrapped around Donghyuck’s stomach. He also had a stupid habit of staring at people’s lips, something that was happening right now, which was not helpful to Donghyuck’s overall goal of explicit and clear communication.
“And I’m kind of having a hard time,” he continued. Something about his flustered voice must’ve made it click for Jaemin, who accurately assessed that Donghyuck was having a sad, gay paroxysm. He no longer looked confused. He looked enlightened.
“Uh, not to say that you’re not also having a hard time. But I wanted to give you a heads up that dating current me would be harder than dating usual me. Like, there are extra layers of...” he tried to come up with the right word, “…emo,” he finished lamely.
“Okay,” Jaemin said slowly, “to me this sounds like you’re finding reasons for me not to date you, and this isn’t an argument about why you don’t want to date me. Right?”
“Right, but—”
“Shh, Hyuck.” Even though Donghyuck hated being interrupted, he squeaked—Jaemin had never called him Hyuck before— “I like you. I really like you. I don’t think it’s difficult to be around you at all, even when you’re feeling really down—I’m in it for you, not some ideal future version. If we have to go long-distance in the future, I’m willing to put in the effort to make it work. Have I mentioned that I really like you?” Jaemin paused. “I think I addressed everything, if you have counter-arguments.”
Donghyuck thought about replying Yes, but thought better of it. Though Jaemin was now sitting up, his hands were still near his stomach, where he was the most ticklish. “No, sounds good.”
“Sounds good? Don’t I get a love confession back?”
Donghyuck merely puckered his lips. “Mwah, mwah,” he mimed, waggling his eyebrows.
Jaemin leaned forward, and Donghyuck closed his eyes. He felt the rumble of Jaemin’s giggle before he heard it, before his body seized up in response to being tickled, before he kneed Jaemin in the gut—a literal knee-jerk reaction!— before he really kissed him, giddy and adoring.