Work Text:
Hoseok's first boyfriend breaks up with him over the birds in his heart.
They are sixteen. The robins pound against Hoseok's ribs. They're bold, happy birds, but now they are nervous and trapped. He reaches down, hand moving from the flesh of his chest to a birdcage with golden bars.
"I'm sorry, but they're distracting. They sing all the time. I don't know how to hold you, either. How do you hold a guy with a birdcage heart?"
Hoseok presses a fist against his mouth. He rocks back and forth on the edge of the bed and nods.
After the boy leaves, Hoseok goes outside and sets the robins free. As soon as they're gone, he feels worse; empty. He goes to bed without touching his homework and slides under the covers.
That night, bluebirds appear inside of him. They cry and cry.
━━━━━
The next morning, there's a macaw in Hoseok's chest. It's a vivid scarlet, so bright, it hurts to look at. He goes to school, more angry than usual.
━━━━━
The macaw is the most restless bird Hoseok has ever had. He doesn't understand how to do his algebra homework. The macaw screeches and everyone in study hall turns to look at him.
Hoseok's face burns. He presses his palm flat over his chest, apologizing, trying to silence it, but it only makes it worse. The macaw bites his thumb hard enough to bleed.
The teacher tells him to be quiet. Hoseok tries, he really does, but the macaw won't listen. She slaps a slip against his desk—detention.
He stays after school to serve it with tears of frustration in his eyes. The macaw nibbles on the bars. It makes a strange vibration hum throughout his body. Hoseok doodles on the corner of his worksheet, his thumb throbbing and the algebra equations blurring together.
He still doesn't understand how to do it.
━━━━━
After that, Hoseok starts to wear layers. It's not much, but he thinks that maybe this way, the birds won't be cold. That this way, they will be more quiet. That people won't pay attention.
━━━━━
People react differently when they find out about the birdcage. Some are amazed. Others are disgusted or confused. Either way, the questions are always the same: How did it get there? Can it be removed? Why do the birds appear? Can you fill your heart with anything else?
The truth is, Hoseok's always had the birdcage. The birds have always been there. He doesn't like the thought of removing it. He doesn't know what will happen if he does.
When he was a child, he would put different things inside of his cage. Tiny toy race cars, spinning tops, crayons, wildflowers, even snacks. He stopped when a pair of sparrows got sick from eating chocolate bars.
Chocolate is toxic to birds. Hoseok hadn't known. His mother drove them to the vet, and he was so scared they were going to die. If they died, would he die, too? He cried when they took his sparrows, scared and unwell, howling into his mother's neck.
They couldn't be saved. Hoseok was devastated. They were his to look after, and he had failed them. He fell asleep squished between his parents in their bed, unsure what would happen.
The next morning, ravens appeared.
His mother was alarmed. Ravens? Inside her little boy? Impossible. Ravens were big and noisy and dark. Nothing like sparrows. She minced chicken for them and flinched away when they lunged for her fingers.
These birds felt different, but also right. They represented the sticky shame and sadness inside of him. He stroked their heads and sang them songs, until one day, the ravens turned into doves.
He's been careful with his heart ever since.
━━━━━
Hoseok doesn't date again until he's in college. He falls into a relationship with a cute boy from his dance class. He's handsome and kind, but Hoseok keeps his heart securely in his chest. He never lets the birds lean out too much.
The boyfriend lies with him in bed and puts his fingertips on the cage. He studies the birds inside; marmalade orange orioles. "Why do the birds change all the time?"
"I think the change depends on how I'm feeling."
"Have you ever had a penguin?"
Hoseok laughs, imagining it. "No. I don't think it would fit."
"What was the first bird you ever had?"
"Hummingbirds," Hoseok says. "I wasn't born with them—just the cage. My mother says they appeared when I was learning how to walk. One day, we were in the living room, and a hummingbird zipped out in front of me. She said I was delighted and tried waddling after it. It kept flying ahead, leading me, until I was across the room and in her arms. Then, it flew into the cage. She thought it had come in through a window."
"What happened to it?"
"It changed, eventually, like they always do."
"Do you miss them?"
Hoseok thinks of the robins he set free. He thinks of the sparrows, the ravens, the doves. "Yes."
"Do they ever come back?"
"Sometimes I get the same species, yeah, but I don't think they're the same birds as before."
The boyfriend sticks his fingers inside the cage. No one has ever done this. The sensation feels intense, different and unpleasant. He gasps, but the boyfriend giggles at the feeling of feathers tickling his skin.
The oriole bites him. The boyfriend yelps and jerks back.
━━━━━
When things start to get serious, Hoseok ends the relationship.
━━━━━
Hoseok graduates and gets a desk job. It isn't what he wants to be doing, but it's safe. He's able to move into an apartment and support himself.
Still, the starlings are restless. They flap hard against the bars everyday. He expects the birds to change, like they always do, but it's been months of the same starlings. They're cavity nesting birds and so Hoseok's chest makes the perfect home for them, he supposes.
They're particularly loud today. His co-workers shoot him dirty looks. He reddens and takes his lunch break outside.
The starlings finally quiet down when Hoseok feeds them bits of bread from his sandwich. Their dark feathers have an iridescent purple sheen to them. The white spots on their wings shift when they flutter, reminding Hoseok of falling stars.
━━━━━
Hoseok doesn't like his job. His heart knows it, but it can't be helped. He continues to clock in, put in the hours and do the same thing every day.
━━━━━
On a warm summer morning, Hoseok wakes up, and the starlings are gone. In their place is a kingfisher.
Weird. He's never had a kingfisher. The birds usually come in pairs but this one is by itself. It's feathers are aqua-blue and it has a long, dagger-like bill. It cocks its head and stares at him with one, beady eye.
━━━━━
Hoseok passes a forest park every morning on his way to work. The kingfisher flaps like mad until he leaves it behind. It pecks at the cage every day, hard, trying to get out.
━━━━━
That weekend, Hoseok decides to go to the park. He figures there must be a reason his heart wants to see it so badly.
It's a beautiful day. There's a lake where you can rent canoes, pantoons and kayaks. The water is crystal blue and shifts in the wind. It's surrounded by a murmuring forest with emerald leaves and winding trails.
The kingfisher fidgets the closer they get to the lake. He doesn't like to open the cage in front of others, but he's spent so many days trapped behind a computer, that his heart is ready to burst. Hoseok unfastens the buttons, drawing stares from pedestrians, and opens the cage door.
Warm air breathes through the bars, ballooning out the back of his shirt. The kingfisher flies out and hovers over the lake, waiting. Then, it dives underneath with a splash.
That's when he sees him—a man, reading a book, and floating in a little boat. His hair is light brown and he's wearing blue swimming trunks. Hoseok can see his muscles, golden and sleek. He's so beautiful that Hoseok's breath catches.
The kingfisher bursts free. It flies back into the cage, smacking a wriggling, silver fish against the bars.
The man's eyes flick up.
And oh no, he can't see him. Not like this, with his heart wide open. Hoseok shoves the kingfisher back inside with a squawk of protest, slamming the door. He yanks his wet shirt tightly around himself.
The man stares.
Hoseok flees.
━━━━━
He replays the moment in his head over and over. Stupid, he thinks to himself, letting my heart out like that. Stupid, stupid.
The rest of the week moves unbearably slow. It's a relief when the weekend comes. He buys a spontaneous ticket to the aquarium; he doesn't know why he does this. The kingfisher heart is gone and replaced with two new birds, but maybe a piece of it still lingers.
He walks into a room surrounded by deep water. Glowing florescent fish glide over his head and wriggling jellyfish drift along. His heart flutters, restless. He can't help but think of what would happen if the glass broke; all that water, rushing in.
A man watches the fish with his back turned to him. The lights beaming from the tank make his body look transparent like a flame in sunlight. And then, Hoseok sees the strangest thing; the silhouette of a whale flicking its tail inside of him.
Hoseok blinks. Squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again.
The whale is still there. Small, about the size of a goldfish, and singing. Its voice echoes throughout the dark room. It sounds like heartbreak.
The birds, though firmly behind the cage, lean out curiously.
Hoseok stands next to him and risks a glance. It's the man from the lake. His face is smooth of all expression but tears are streaming down his cheeks.
"Is everything okay?"
The man flinches, surprised. He turns to look at him. "Oh," he gasps. "You're the boy from the park."
Hoseok's face flushes. "That's me," he says, pressing a hand over the cage, where the birds are moving. "I'm Hoseok. You are?"
"Namjoon."
The whale’s song rolls throughout the room. The birds sing back. They stare at each other.
"Sorry," Namjoon begins, "but I have to ask. Are you like me?"
"You?"
He nods and unbuttons his shirt. His chest and torso are made of rippling water. Inside, a small humpback whale swims.
Hoseok's mouth drops open.
"My mother is always buying me new sea creatures to try," Namjoon says, eyes downcast. "The whale makes me the saddest."
"Will it go away?"
Namjoon shakes his head. "The fish and whales never appeared on their own. My mom put them inside as an experiment. Clownfish made me more outgoing. Betas made me jealous. Sharks made me feel angry and superior. I let the sharks go. When she asked what happened, I lied and said they died. It's exhausting, constantly changing to what she wants me to be."
"I'm sorry."
Namjoon shrugs. Hoseok steps back and unfastens the top button on his shirt. Then the next. Until he shifts it off and loops his hands underneath his undershirt.
Canaries are inside of him today. The flitter nervously under Namjoon's wide eyes.
When the silence deepens, Hoseok goes to put his shirt back on, but Namjoon touches his hand. He moves for the birds and then stops. "May I?"
Hoseok nods. He brings Namjoon's hand closer.
The canaries chirp. They flutter and gently nip at Namjoon's fingers.
"Different kinds appear depending on my mood." Hoseok slides down the golden bars, to where Namjoon's touching him. "Weird, huh?"
"I think they're wonderful."
Warmth burns his cheeks. There's a connection sparkling between them, a type of invisible thread, passing light from to the other, that Hoseok has never felt before. It takes him a second to realize he feels understood.
"Hey!" a voice barks. They jump and turn to see a man in uniform. "Can't you read?" He points to a sign. "No shirts, no shoes, no service."
"Oh! Sorry," Namjoon says. He quickly pulls his shirt back on and Hoseok follows suit. The man sees a puddle of water collected at Namjoon's shoes and scoffs, shaking his head and walking away.
It takes their eyes a moment to adjust to the brightness once they exit. In this room, there's a column in the center, filled with bright blue water, and swirling with ribbon eels, manta rays and sea turtles. Hoseok turns to him. "What kind of fish do you like the best?"
"Koi," Namjoon says, without missing a beat. "I feel the happiest with koi."
━━━━━
They exchange numbers after that. Namjoon tells him he wants to set the humpback free and asks if he wants to go with. It's strange, as far as first dates go, but Hoseok agrees. They pay for a tour guide, along with other families and couples, to go whale watching.
The warm breeze whips through Hoseok's hair and clothes. Salt sings his eyes. The crowd mutters in disappointment since there are no whales so far.
Namjoon unbuttons his shirt and reaches inside of himself. He cups the tiny whale in his hands and throws it out as far as he can. As soon as it hits the sea, it grows to full size.
There's a tremendous splash. The sightseers cry out in shock, as a wall of water crashes over them, soaking them in an instant. Hoseok laughs. He's drenched from head to toe, cold and shivering, but excited and alive, his shirt shaping around the birdcage.
The whale's massive tail slams against the waves before disappearing underneath. Animated chatter fills the air as everyone pulls out their smartphones, trying to snap a picture before it's too late.
When they are back on land, they buy ice cream cones and sit at the beach.
It's so hot that Namjoon takes his shirt off. Hoseok's sweating, but he isn't comfortable enough to take his off in public. He merely unbuttons it enough for the breeze to roll in.
They talk while they watch the waves lap at the shore. Namjoon closes his eyes as he soaks in the sun. Beams of light shine through him, refracting rainbows across his body, so wholly beautiful that Hoseok can't look away. Namjoon turns to him, dimpling.
And the birds sing.
━━━━━
Namjoon doesn't buy new fish right away. For a while, he just lets himself be clear.
━━━━━
By now, some months passed. Hoseok loves Namjoon's company. Not just the touch of his hands, or his kisses, but his conversation. His dreams. To love him feels like falling in love with the sea, with green and blue, with whalesongs and mortality.
But Hoseok never lets Namjoon reach the center of his being. He never touches the birds that represent his pain, his fears or hopes; that place that renders him vulnerable. When they make love, Hoseok feels everything interlock inside of him, and he thinks, for a moment, with the birds swirling, that he's finally let him in after all.
━━━━━
Hoseok stretches out his hand and watches the ripples murmur across Namjoon's waters. He holds him, warm and transparent, his skin covered in moonlight pouring in from the window.
"Do you ever name them?" Namjoon whispers, gently stroking the bars. Two sun conures are sound asleep inside and cuddling together.
"Not since I was a kid. Naming them makes me feel attached."
Namjoon nods. "I think I would name the koi."
"Are you going to get them?"
He doesn't say anything to that. He squishes his face between Hoseok's neck and collar. Water slips in-between the bars and drips onto the birds. They flinch awake and ruffle their orange sherbet wings.
"Oh," Namjoon says. "Oh, no. Are they okay?"
He touches the cage, concerned. Hoseok covers his hand with his own. Their eyes meet, brown and searching.
The birds tremble. Hoseok trembles too as he unfastens the latch. He opens the door and guides Namjoon's hand inside.
It feels odd, but it isn't like with his ex, who stuck his fingers into the cage without permission. This feels full and dizzying, gentle and humble. He gasps, curling closer, his forehead bumping against his.
"You're beautiful," Namjoon says, and Hoseok puffs out a laugh, shaking his head. But Namjoon murmurs to the birds. He tells them he adores their silken feathers, their happy disposition, their loud squawking and their kindness. The birds murmur back. They let out happy little chirps, nuzzling against him.
Oh, I love you, his heart sings. I love you, I love you.
━━━━━
When they wake up the next morning, stretched out side by side, Namjoon has two koi fish swimming inside of him. One is solid marigold and the other is orange and speckled with white, so bright, it rivals pearls.
He laughs, amazed, and touches his chest. "Hobah, did you get them?"
Hoseok shakes his head. He sits up and folds his legs underneath them. "They must have appeared on their own."
Namjoon nods, dimples deep, watching them. Hoseok's own heart flutters. When he looks down, there are two ruby-throated hummingbirds.
They zip out of the birdcage. One hovers by Namjoon's face and the other watches the koi fish swim in lazy circles after each other's tails.
"Wow," Namjoon breathes. He reaches out a hand. The hummingbird hops onto his finger like a perch. The other squeaks and snuggles against his cheek. He laughs, a wonderful, warm sound that washes over Hoseok like music.
━━━━━
"What do you want to do today?"
"I applied for another job this morning," Hoseok says, shrugging. "We can grab lunch."
Namjoon nods. He slips on his sandals and leaves his shirt unbuttoned, revealing a column of freshwater. "Are you ready?"
Seeing his shirt undone makes Hoseok feel brave. He leaves the undershirt in the drawer and keeps his button-down unfastened.
Once they are outside, Hoseok reaches for his hand. The hummingbirds flicker to Namjoon's shoulders, gemstone green and buzzing. It isn't until they are halfway down the sidewalk, with the sun so hot that it peels rainbows off the pavement, does Namjoon gasp.
"Your birdcage,” he says. “It's different."
Hoseok glances down. Vines have twisted all around the golden bars. They are blooming with trumpet flowers. He touches the leaves, soft as velvet and the petals as vibrant as flamingo feathers. “Well would you look at that."
A garden, he thinks. A garden just for my heart.
A hummingbird dips its beak into one of the flowers. They continue to fly before him, occasionally resting in Namjon's hair or bumping against his cheek. They walk on, hand in hand. Sunbeams stream through the bars, warm and heady as honey. The cage door is unlocked, and Hoseok's heart is wide open.