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Hyukjae wakes up to the smell of garlic and eggs.
He takes a deep breath, the salty ocean breeze tickling his nostrils. The sun is still low on the horizon as he slides the balcony door open, shivering as the cool dawn air seeps into the thin material of his pajamas. He can hear the neighbour's Pomeranian barking over the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. The pup reminds him of his own. Hyukjae can no longer recall his name (or was it her?).
"Hyuk!"
A voice downstairs interrupts his train of thought. The man carefully walks over to grab his robe hanging by the closet and puts it on, making his way out the bedroom and to the staircase. He sits on the automated chairlift and clicks the seatbelt in place as it gently glides down the stairs. Donghae had argued with the kids when they insisted on getting the stairlift for Christmas years ago. Hyukjae knew he was offended by the implication that he was too old to climb stairs. He was too, but after the heart attack he nearly suffered witnessing his beloved almost fall down those very same stairs, he joined the kids in convincing the stubborn man, much to Donghae's annoyance.
The smell of garlic and eggs intensified as Hyukjae walked into the kitchen and one look at the other man holding two plates of fried rice connected the dots.
"I made breakfast," Donghae says, smiling. The slightly damp grey hair and beige fitted sweater he wore indicates he had woken up earlier to shower and get dressed.
Hyukjae quickly walks over and takes both plates from his hands. "Why are you up so early, Hae? You have to rest--"
"I've rested enough, sweetie," Donghae interrupts, pecking his cheek. "In fact, I feel better enough to go take a walk."
Hyukjae places the food on the table. "Do you want me to follow?" He asks in concern.
Donghae flashes him that toothy smile he adores. His husband takes his left hand and plants a tender kiss right on his wedding ring. "I'll be fine. We'll go down to the shore after you eat, okay?"
Hyukjae can only watch as Donghae grabs his coat draped on the kitchen counter and slowly moves over to the backdoor leading to the backyard. He pauses to unhook his favourite bucket hat hanging from a coat rack on the wall.
"Be careful, honey."
Donghae looks over his shoulder and throws him a wink. "I always am. Happy anniversary, Hyukkie," he opens the door and steps out, waving at his husband before closing the backdoor with a soft click.
Hyukjae takes a seat at the dining table, staring off into empty space with a gentle smile on his mouth. He sips at his cup of coffee every time his lips got dry, coating every taste bud with its pleasant, nutty bitterness, grateful that he’s still retained his sense of taste, amongst other fleeting pleasures he had taken for granted in his age. Every now and then, he spoons small bites of fried rice, careful of the heat.
The backdoor creaks open and Hana, their caretaker, steps into the kitchen.
“Hana!” Hyukjae waves her over, the joints in his elbow popping. “Come, come. Join me in this wonderful breakfast Donghae’s cooked up for us!"
Hana smiles. “Sure, Hyukjae.”
She brings an empty cup down from the wooden cupboard and takes up the second of three seats at the table. Hyukjae pours her some coffee from a Moka pot, his trembling grip spilling only a couple of drops of it onto the tablecloth. Hana would usually at first insist on helping serve or pour anything for her patient, but in this case, it's Hyukjae who insists on letting him at least do something around here, damn it! She has been allowing him to do so ever since, though her instincts still imbue her with some slight reluctance.
“Thank you, Hyukjae.” She brings the cup to her lips and sips the top of it, still hot. Hyukjae drinks too and continues to sit there, pleased in the comfortable silence.
“How, uh... How have you been managing these days, Hyukjae?” Hana struggles to bring up a topic. “Any pains anywhere, or anything new you want to try that you may need help with?”
Hyukjae speaks around another mouthful of rice. “Everything’s been fine, Hana. Really. I think it’s been going very well, thanks.”
Hana nods. “Okay... And have you been taking your meds? You know how important they are for you, right?”
Hyukjae frowns, his cheeks sagged slightly at the sides of his face. “Aish, those pills don’t do anything for me. Don’t want them, don’t need them.”
“Please, Hyukjae. You heard what the doctor said abou-”
“You know, Hae never takes any of the pills. He hates them more than I do, and now, look at him! As healthy as he was twenty, thirty years ago.”
The woman sighs, knowing she wouldn't be winning this one, once again. “Okay, Hyukjae, I guess a few skipped tablets wouldn’t make a difference.”
Hyukjae raises his cup. “Thank you,” he says grumpily and takes a sip. In an attempt to lighten up the mood again, she asks: “So, Hyukjae, how did you first meet Donghae anyway?”
Hyukjae’s eyes widen in a flash of recognition. Hana swears she sees his pupils dilate a little.
“You still remember that, don’t you?” she adds curiously.
Hyukjae sets his cup down on the table and leans back.
“Oh, you bet I do."
“Where you at, you little shit?"
Hyukjae darted through every corridor of the tiled, industrial interior, one eye staring at his minimap. His pistol was poised and ready to fire at any enemy he saw. The enemy, Junsu, certain of his constant inability to aim and fire successfully at him for some god damned reason, cowered in a vague corner. “I’m not coming out, Hyuk!” he said.
“Oh, I’ll find you, don’t you worry,” and as he said this, he found him. Junsu's whole body faced the corner. Hyukjae guessed he must have thought that if he can’t see me, then I can’t see him. Well, he’s right there.
Hyukjae switched from holding his gun to holding his deadly hat. A hat which upon contact would immediately bring the victim out of the current plane of existence. He flung it at the coward, who then let out a final, agonizing scream. Junsu fell to the ground, blood filling his vision from top to bottom. The James Bond jingle played, and GAME OVER came onto the screen, with Hyukjae’s rank displayed as “1ST”.
Junsu turned to Hyukjae with rage in his eyes. “You saw my goddamn screen!” he yelled. “We’ve talked about this!” He threw his Nintendo 64 controller at Hyukjae, who batted it away with his hand.
Hyukjae laughed. “I didn’t see anything, damn it! Besides, your wuss ass was looking at a corner, anyway.”
“Wuh?” was all the teenager managed to say. He then went and picked up his controller from the floor and sat back down. “Rematch. Now.”
Hyukjae gave him the most condescending look he could give. “You know we’re not exactly playing Hide-And-Seek here, right?”
“Shut up and start it already,” Junsu said, ignoring his side-eye.
The 15-year-olds settled back into the sofa and were about to start the next match when the front door opened and Jungsoo walked into the dorm.
“Children,” Jungsoo said as he stepped aside and revealed a smaller teenager behind him, long straight black hair almost covering his eyes. He wore an oversized basketball jersey and sweatpants, and the big backpack on his back made him look even smaller.
"This is Lee Donghae. He's the new trainee and will be living here starting today."
Donghae smiled shyly. Jungsoo closed the door behind them as he bowed at the two teens on the couch. “Hi,” he said with a little wave. Junsu said hello back, then looked back at the screen to set up the next game.
“Hey, Donghae!” Hyukjae said, putting his controller down and standing up to meet him. "I'm Hyukjae, that guy over there is Junsu. We're both 15."
"O-oh, I am too!" Donghae replied, his heavy Jeolla accent surprising the other.
“Donghae's from Mokpo," Jungsoo informed him. The 19-year-old placed the plastic bags he was carrying on their dorm's tiny kitchen counters and started putting groceries away. "I'll show you your room after I'm done cleaning up, Donghae. Go ahead and sit down first."
“Come sit,” Hyukjae waved at an empty bean bag. “Get comfortable while you watch me kick Junsu's butt in Goldeneye.”
"O-okay, hyung," Donghae nodded and slowly sunk himself into the beanbag. He awkwardly pushed and moulded the beans under his butt to find the most comfortable setting. As Hyukjae picked up his controller, Junsu got off the couch.
“You know what? I think I’ll go grab a snack, actually.” He stood up, brought the controller to Donghae and dropped it onto his lap. “Here you go, man.”
“Big puss, Junsu?” Hyukjae grinned at him.
Junsu put two hands up, palms facing outward. “I just wanna welcome the newbie.” He then flipped Hyukjae the bird with both hands, and he walked into the kitchen, out of sight.
Hyukjae turned to look at Donghae from the far end of his couch, Junsu's cratered empty spot between them. “You played this before, Donghae?”
Donghae shrugged. “I, uhm, like to think that I’m quite good at it… actually.”
They met each other’s eyes. Hyukjae’s brows raised and he nodded. “Okay! Okay, okay, okay.” He turned back to the screen. “Let’s go, then.”
Donghae chose the character Oddjob before Hyukjae could, and beat him ten games in a row, much to the older's annoyance.
"Playing Oddjob was basically cheating! The character model was shorter than the others and made the aim assist miss every time!"
Hana chuckles as Hyukjae riles himself up by recalling the past. She isn't surprised, as much as the two loved each other, they were also highly competitive, despite their age. Hana doesn't even remember how many petty fights she had to break in all her years working with the couple.
"You know, I proposed to him on this very beach."
Hana raises an eyebrow as she sips her coffee. "Oh, did you?"
The old man looks out the kitchen window, deep in thought. "We went on a trip here, just the two of us. Not long after the group disbanded," Hana vaguely remembers the boy group her patient was a member in decades ago. She doesn't keep up much these days, being a middle-aged woman herself, but as a teenager, she recalled a few bits and pieces of the group's impact on South Korea's music industry back in the day.
"My hands were sweaty the whole day and the ring box felt like a weight in my jeans pocket," Hyukjae continues, snapping Hana back into the conversation. "Hae drove us in his Porsche and all I could think about was what to say when I proposed. We walked on the beach, and just as I was about to go on one knee, would you believe it, Donghae beat me to it! Gave me the shock of my life to see him on his knee, and an almost identical ring box in his hand."
"You both planned to propose on the same day, at the same place?" Hana asks in surprise.
The man laughs as he replies. "I should've known when he asked me to go on the beach trip that day. Everything just fit together so perfectly.”
"How did Donghae react when he saw your ring?"
"Same way he reacts to everything else. He cried his eyes out!” Hana laughs, remembering how easily the older man could be sent to tears. “From that day,” Hyukjae continues. “It was a high-speed freeway ride to the day of our wedding.” He takes a sip of his coffee while he thinks about where to start with this part of the story, and sets the cup down.
"Hae said the suit looked very dapper on me. You know enough how bad I am with ties. Mother, may she rest in peace, had to constantly fix my tie for me throughout the whole day," Hyukjae smiles. "Hae started crying not even a minute into my vows. There I was, promising to love and cherish him for the rest of our lives, through sickness and health, and he was just bawling. Heechul-hyung kept making fun of the wedding photos after because they were just filled with Hae crying."
Hana giggled. "Was he crying the whole day?"
"No, he smiled the brightest while we twirled on the dance floor after the dinner."
Hyukjae closes his eyes, humming softly at the music he remembered so vividly that he heard it all in his mind again, down to the slightest vinyl crackle. He started to sway minutely to the left and right, like hay in a gentle spring breeze. He could almost feel Donghae’s arm around his waist, his warmth against his. He remembers Donghae's smile as they twirled around on the dance floor, the moon their spotlight and the crashing ocean waves their backing track to the guitars, the piano, the violins.
Having enjoyed the reminiscence, Hyukjae opens his eyes again back to the dining table and Hana.
“Anyway,” he says. “Wasn’t long until we wanted a child.”
Their journey to start their family wasn't easy. In a country where homophobia was rooted in its traditions and history, they had many obstacles to jump over to make it a possibility. But it got easier as the years went by. As the newer generation came to positions of power, so did their beliefs.
Adoption was a complicated process. Besides the mountains of paperwork and long waiting lists, gay couples were still seen as unfit to raise a child by adoption agencies. So instead, they chose the surrogate route through a private company.
It was an expensive process, and even though they had saved up a lot during their idol days, they continued to work in various parts of the industry even after the group disbanded in 2025 for the sake of their future parenthood. Having a family had always been a dream of theirs, especially Donghae, who dropped his insecurities and took on more acting and emcee roles, just to contribute more savings for their future child.
After a long and meticulous search, they met a lovely lady, Park Jia. Fit, healthy and in her late 20s, willing to be the surrogate mother for their child. They were extremely grateful to have her lend them a hand in the matter. Or a womb.
The process of the implantation went as smoothly as they had hoped, and over months of almost unbearable anxiety, the baby had grown strong and healthy.
And on a rainy summer day in the middle of August, the day they've waited their whole lives for finally came.
"Lee family?"
The two anxious men whipped their heads up at the mention of their name. The nurse's head poked out from the other side of the operating theater doors. She wore a medical mask, but the couple knew she was smiling from the way the corner of her eyes wrinkled.
"Are you two the parents?"
Donghae got up first. "Yes."
"You may see her now.”
They staggered into the delivery room, white fluorescent lights illuminating everything stark and perfect. In a basket in the back of the room lied their newborn baby girl. Just as they came in, the nurses rolled Jia's bed out of the operating theater and towards her private hospital room.
“Congratulations,” Jia says, eyes tired and hair up in a very messy bun yet her smile sincere.
Donghae bent down and gripped one of her hands with both of his. “Thank you so much for what you’ve done for us,” he said, his eyes filled and gleaming at her in the light. He had hours to ponder over what she had gone through for them, the months-long process of caring for their baby growing within her, the pain of childbirth. She would always be a hero to them.
“Anytime," she jokes with a nervous chuckle, hoping the forced levity would stop herself from breaking into tears at the sight of Donghae’s gratitude. She understood multitudes within his eyes.
Hyukjae, tearing up as well, went and held her shoulder. “We’ll check up on you soon after, yeah? Donghae,” he looked down at the man, extended his hand, and nudged his head towards the end of the room.
“Let’s go see her.”
Hyukjae helped him up and they went to the basket. There she lied, newborn flesh pink and delicate. She was swaddled tight in a white blanket. Exhausted, she had done her share of crying already. Her tiny chest rose and fell, breathing deep as her new parents watched with sheer joy in their eyes her first afternoon nap of many to come.
Donghae buried his face into the shoulder of Hyukjae's sweater, dampening it immediately.
“She’s so...” Hyukjae struggled with his words, “small. So tiny.”
Donghae sniffed. He took a deep breath, quivering violently. “She’s perfect,” his voice muffled through the wool. The waterworks came, and they stood by their child for another few moments. Donghae’s sobs resonated throughout the delivery room walls.
“Excuse me, misters.”
They turned around to see the nurse standing behind them. Donghae looked up from the sweater, his face as red as the baby’s.
“I’m here to bring the baby to the nursery,” she said. “Have the both of you decided on a name yet?”
The two teary-eyed fathers looked at each other for a moment and looked back at the nurse.
“Bada,” Hyukjae said.
Hana notes Hyukjae’s wandering eyes as if searching through every crevice on the walls and cupboards for more details of his memories. Her phone rings, the ringtone being the chorus to the song Devil from an album recorded decades ago. It is a video call.
“Speak of the-” she answers the call. “Hello, Bada!”
“Hi, Hana!” Bada says, waving in the frame. Hana rotates the phone so its screen and selfie camera faces Hyukjae. "And hello there, appa! How are you doing?"
Hyukjae's lips stretch into a smile. "Hi, Bada! Oh, I'm alright. Been better!" He lets out a couple of chuckles. "Oh, how wonderful it is to see my beautiful baby girl!"
Bada laughs. "Baby girl? You still call me that? I'm already in my mid-40s!"
Hyukjae squints at the screen and laughs back, coughing as he does. "Oh, time has really gone by, hasn't it!" he says, looking down. For an instant, his smile starts to fade. Hana wonders if he had forgotten.
"Haejun, say hi to your grandpa!" the voice on the loudspeaker says.
Hyukjae immediately turns to face the phone again, his smile back and cheerful as ever to see Haejun on the screen. The 6-year-old sits on his mother’s lap, looking at the screen with big, curious eyes.
Hyukjae squints again. Bada notices and places the camera closer to Haejun’s face. Hyukjae is stunned. That young, bright face. Those cheekbones. Those eyes. He says nothing while he stares fixedly at that face, for it almost uncannily resembles Donghae’s. Within Haejun’s face, he sees the love of his life. He fights back a tear, barely succeeding.
“Hello, Haejun,” Hyukjae finally says.
Bada turns to her child. “Come on. Say hi to him!”
“Hi, grandpa,” Haejun waves at him.
Hyukjae can’t help but wave back, his eyelids trembling.
They continue their conversation, exchanging details of their current status quos, that smile on Hyukjae’s face never faltering for the rest of the chat. Hana, still holding the phone to him, couldn’t help but grin at the jovial scene. She watches Hyukjae’s enthusiasm through the light in his eyes, the expressions on his face, the sheer joy behind every word he speaks to his daughter and grandson. She thinks about the staggering amount of love this man has for his family.
Hyukjae goes back and forth non-stop with Haejun, asking him about his hobbies, his new friends at school, his ambitions for the future, and countless other topics. He really adores the toddler, Bada thinks. She can’t even get a word into this conversation. That is until Haejun asks, gripping onto her blouse, about maybe visiting Hyukjae’s house for the day.
“Oh, well I think that can be arranged,” Bada says. “Right, appa?”
“Sure!” Hyukjae nods excitedly like a puppy. “Grandpa’s got to celebrate a very special day today - the anniversary of the day I married your other grandpa! Oh, I’m sure he’ll be so delighted to hear you guys are coming over.”
“Alright, then,” Bada says, a tight smile on her lips. “Okay, I gotta get going. Haejun's appa is coming back soon. I’ll see you later, alright appa?”
Hyukjae waves at them. “See you later!”
Bada and Haejun wave their goodbyes and the call ends. Hyukjae takes one final sip of his coffee, emptying the mug. "I can't wait to tell Hae about Haejun's visit. He hasn't seen that little boy in months."
He then looks out the window into their yard and sees said beloved standing outside, waving enthusiastically at him to come out.
"That's my cue," Hyukjae stands up from the table. "Thank you for listening to this old man talk, Hana."
"No, thank you for telling me. You know how much I love your stories."
Hana gets off her seat to help the old man up. She grabs his coat and helps him into it, Hyukjae fumbling to connect the buttons in his excited haste. The back door opens with a creak and Hyukjae puts his shoes on before jogging over to his husband.
Donghae holds a wrinkled hand out to him.
"You ready?"
Hyukjae takes it.
"With you, always."
"How is dad, Hana?"
The family caretaker continues bringing the cups and plates into the sink, her phone on the kitchen table left on loudspeaker after Bada called her again minutes after Hyukjae left for the beach. "The usual. Nothing much has changed."
Bada hums. "Still having those… delusions?"
"I wouldn't call them delusions," Hana pauses to glance at the wok she used to cook the egg fried rice earlier that morning. Recalling how happy Hyukjae waved her over to eat Donghae's cooking earlier clenches her heart in sympathy. The woman sighs.
"More like the past persevering."
They stand at the edge of the water, fingers interlacing as the morning sun rises on the horizon. Hyukjae turns to look at Donghae and watches as he closes his eyes, the sunlight bathing his face in a golden hue. The man tries to etch every detail of his husband's face to memory; the smile lines by his eyes deep, his greyed eyebrows matching the grey hairs peeking under the bucket hair, the slight stubble on his once sharp jawline now rounded after all these years. Hyukjae knows he looks just the same as his husband. No one could escape the test of time, after all.
But as Donghae opens his eyes and the sun turns his dark brown orbs a light hazel, and the man grins at him all toothily like he used to, Hyukjae knows for certain that age could never take away his husband's boyish innocence.
"50 years ago I promised to love you and cherish you, in sickness and in health, in riches and poor, till death do us part," Hyukjae tells him. "And now, 50 years later, the universe was kind enough to still keep my promise."
His beloved squeezes his hand then brings it up to his lips, kissing his on their wedding ring just how he did earlier that morning.
"I love you," Donghae says back. The tears in his husband's eyes make Hyukjae realize he too was tearing up. He can't help but smile as Donghae wipes his eyes dry.
"Today is supposed to be a special day, my moon," the old nickname makes him giggle. "If you keep crying it will rain tonight."
Hyukjae raises an eyebrow. "Oh really?"
"Yes, really," Donghae says, launching the other into a fit of laughter.
As they held each other on the shore, Hyukjae misses the way Hana watches from the kitchen window. She looks on in concern at him laughing by himself, unable to do anything but be confronted with the reality of her client, her friend's, worsening condition. But she knows for him, the image of Donghae beside him is all he has left to hang on by.
'Maybe it's for the better', she thinks. 'Maybe ignorance is bliss for a man his age.'
Back on the beach, Donghae lets go of him and walks closer to the waves. He rids of his shoes and wades into the water, making sure the edges of his pants don't get wet.
Hyukjae follows along, discarding his shoes next to Donghae's and rolls his pants up to his knees. He cautiously treads the water to catch up to his husband but a particularly big wave knocks the old man off balance. He stumbles, arms reaching out to grab hold of anything that could support him. A hand grabs his wrist just in time, holding him steady as he gets back on two feet.
Hyukjae's other hand comes up to pat Donghae's as gratitude, but the soft smooth flesh surprises him. He looks at the hand, eyes trailing up the arm no longer wrinkled, up to Donghae's face. Donghae's young face, the previous traces of age no longer present; his eyes sparkling big, his cheekbones high and prominent, tinged pink in the morning sun.
"Be careful, my moon," Donghae says, his voice retaining the innocence it had twenty, thirty years prior.
“Handsome as you’ve always been,” Hyukjae says, still regarding his youthful looks. His husband blushes shyly, splashing him with saltwater playfully.
And on that beach on their 50th anniversary, with the sand under his toes and the ocean breeze whipping the bucket hat off Donghae's smiling face, Hyukjae feels 33 again.