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“I’ll tell you… what real love is. It is blind devotion, unquestioning self-humiliation, utter submission, trust and belief against yourself and against the whole world, giving up your whole heart and soul to the smiter,”
- Charles Dickens, Great Expectations.
A sunlit afternoon in the month of June finds him pondering over these famous lines from his lover’s favourite book. The cup of coffee in Kang Sehun’s hand is lukewarm, and its bitter taste does little to ease his internal conflict. He wets his lips with the murky liquid one last time before redirecting his attention to the source of the problem.
“ Dans le Lit, le Baiser, ” Sehun murmurs, stroking his chin. His gaze settles on his tablet, and he zooms in for a better look at the image file. Although the image itself is heavily protected, it doesn’t deter the viewer from making out its subject. The two women of the painting are engaged in a passionate kiss.
The painting bears a stunning resemblance to the other Lautrec painting at the Musée d'Orsay in Paris. Sehun knows this because he has committed it to memory. As it was a painting that held a special place in Yoonshin’s heart, he’d spent hours listening to the younger man rave about it. In the end, it was Yoonshin’s persistence that had persuaded Sehun to book airline tickets for them to go and see it in person.
It hadn’t ended there; Sehun ultimately ended up looking for Lautrec’s other, lesser-known paintings through his connections. Although it seemed impossible, the prospect of gifting one of his pieces to Yoonshin had never left his mind. Loving Yoonshin had introduced him to the concept of hope, so he’d held out hope for one of Lautrec’s paintings to be resold.
An unexpected stroke of serendipity had prompted him to check the private marketplace today. With exactly a month left until Yoonshin’s birthday, the timing made it seem as though the painting was finally ready to be received into its new, loving home.
Deciding on a birthday gift for Yoonshin hadn’t been an easy task. There was nothing he hadn’t received already, and there was nothing Sehun wouldn’t give him. The designer brands he’d showered him with were ultimately an excuse to spoil his other half and to thank him for his boundless love. Never in his wildest dreams did Sehun think he’d spend so much time hunting for the perfect gift.
“Really, he’s making me do all kinds of things…” he sighs, reaching out for the landline on his desk. As it connects to the secretaries’ office, his gaze settles on the painting once more.
It would be wrong of him to pretend as if he were unmoved by the scene of two women, lost in a world that only the two of them are privy to. They’re both blissfully unaware of what the next day will bring, but it seems like they may have clung onto each other with the shared dream of a better tomorrow. It’s a tender scene, immortalised in oil paints, and it reminds him of how he’d embrace Yoonshin at the end of each workday in their bed.
“Yes, CEO Kang?”
Secretary Tak’s voice on the other end of the line brings him back to reality.
“I need you to look into something for me.”
*
The seventeenth of July is a regular workday. Since the previous day was a Sunday, Sehun had made a private reservation at an upscale restaurant, and the two of them had enjoyed a quiet night of expensive food and wine in each other’s company. Today, they follow their usual routine of waking up in each other’s arms (Yoonshin grumbles about the dull pain in his lower-half, and Sehun reminds him that he’s the one who’d instigated it by clambering onto his lap in a tipsy and desperate attempt to ride him), and eating breakfast together (Sehun had relented and prepared coffee and sandwiches to appease the young master Do). At the doorway, Yoonshin presses little kisses all over his face and stills when Sehun’s tongue pries his lips open.
Even so, there are some minor deviations: Sehun pulls Yoonshin into his arms and murmurs a breathy “Happy birthday” when he senses that the younger man is awake. When Yoonshin turns around to face him with gleaming eyes (clearly anticipating a surprise), Sehun chuckles and flicks his forehead.
“Ow! What was that for!?”
“I’ve always thought this, but you’re really transparent.”
“Is that a compliment or an insult?”
Sehun pecks his head in lieu of a reply. “I’m taking a half-day today, so come home as soon as you’re done with work.”
“Since when does the co-CEO of Doguk take half-days?”
"It's because there's something important I need to pick up."
*
When Yoonshin finally pulls into the driveway, he rubs his clammy palms on his trousers and parks his car in the garage. He punches in the passcode and bolts to the only room that is lit up at that very moment—their shared study.
“Sehun-sunbae, I’m home~ What’s—!”
The rest of his words die on the tip of his tongue when he sees a chocolate cake on the table, and he pauses mid-stride at the sight of Sehun, who unhurriedly lights up its candles. His confusion doesn’t last for long; when it dawns on him that Sehun had taken a half-day to prepare all of this for him—the cake and the gifts—he grins so wide that his cheeks hurt from smiling.
“When did you prepare all of this?”
Yoonshin’s happiness is infectious, and Sehun bites back a smile at the sight of his rosy cheeks. “It was a last-minute decision.”
“Liar. You took a half-day to get everything ready.”
Sehun doesn’t deny it. He simply offers him a nod.
“Now’s the time to say some cheesy, romantic lines. You can also profess your love for me if you want, just like in the dramas.”
“What should I say?”
“How about ‘My dearest Yoonshin-ah, I have been waiting for you all this time. I prepared this for you, so I hope you enjoy everything. Now, what would you like first? Dinner? A bath? Or perhaps… me? ’”
“I really need to ban you from watching TV. Those trashy soap operas are giving you useless ideas.” He curls his index at Yoonshin, instructing him to come closer. “Make a wish before the candles go out.”
Seizing the opportunity to be a little disobedient, Yoonshin bypasses the cake and wraps his arms around Sehun instead. He squeezes his eyes shut. “What if I say that you’re my wish?”
Sehun breathes out a soft sigh that suspiciously sounds like a laugh. “Wish for something useful while you can.”
“There’s nothing left for me to wish for. Being able to live like this with Sunbae is all I’ve ever wanted. Oh, but wait, maybe you should offer me some wishes instead.”
Sehun recalls the younger man’s wild requests from back when he’d offered him three wishes. “I think I’ll exercise my right to remain silent.”
Yoonshin’s arms slide down to his waist. When he manages to detach himself from Sehun, he leans toward the cake and blows out the candles. “Okay, done. Can I see my presents?”
“You’re getting awfully cheeky these days.” Sehun pinches his cheek. “I’ll have to tame this side of you somehow.”
Yoonshin’s eyes light up like those of a child on Christmas morning. “By the way, I’ve been thinking of different ways to spice up our sex life. I saw some restraints online. They’d look good on you.”
“Rejected.”
“You didn’t even hear my proposal yet.”
“It’s still a no.”
“You’ll be the criminal and I’ll be the policeman. I’ll say that you’re under arrest and I’ll restrain your wrists, and while you’re waiting to be punished, I’ll take off my clothes and sit on your di—”
“Stop that. It’s still a no from me.”
Yoonshin pouts. “Why do you dislike being tied up so much?”
“I don’t hate it.”
“Try saying that in a more convincing way.”
“It’s not that I hate it. I just hate the thought of not being able to hold you in my arms when you cry and cum for me. I like being able to touch you whenever I want.”
Despite the explicitness of the confession, there’s an underlying sweetness to it that Yoonshin picks up on within an instant. The knowledge that Sehun wants to be able to embrace him freely during sex makes his heart ache with fondness for the older man. “Okay. But I’ll buy them anyway. I don’t mind being the criminal.”
Sehun utters a low, incredulous laugh. “I really don’t know how to deal with you.”
“We’re several years into this arrangement. It’s never too late to learn,” Yoonshin says, stopping to stare at the mountain of gifts on the sofa. “So, which one should I open first?”
Sehun gives the question some thought. Eventually, he gestures at the lone gift in the corner that has been positioned against the wall, and he observes as Yoonshin traces its outline with his eyes. “I was thinking of saving this for last but, now that you’re here, I don’t think it can wait any longer.”
“Is it a painting?” Yoonshin kneels beside it and gently holds the corners of the frame. The painting itself is concealed under a white cloth.
“Mhm, and there’s something you should know before you open it.”
“What is it?”
“Bring it here first,” Sehun says, patting the empty spot beside him on the sofa. “Sit here.”
Yoonshin obediently follows his instructions. He plops down next to the older man. “Now what?”
The painting is momentarily abandoned on the table when Sehun leans in to steal a kiss. As though he’s been trained to respond, Yoonshin immediately becomes pliant in his arms, and he lets Sehun’s tongue knock against the roof of his mouth.
“Ngh, mhm…”
As if that weren’t enough, Sehun cradles Yoonshin's cheeks in his palms as he tries to snatch away the saliva in the younger man’s mouth. Yoonshin clutches Sehun’s shoulders and trembles from the intensity of the kiss. When Sehun finally pulls away, he laps up the saliva at the corners of Yoonshin’s lips.
“W-What was that for?”
“I wanted to get that out of the way.”
When Yoonshin gazes into the older man’s eyes, he sees a hint of excitement. “If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just said so… Agh, forget it.”
Sehun clears his throat. “It’s been a year since I started to look for this. Among the many paintings that Lautrec created during his short life, many of them were sold to private collectors.”
Recognizing the implications of what he’s just said, Yoonshin’s eyes light up. “You found one of his paintings?”
“Why don’t you take a look at it first? The subject matter is something you’re familiar with.”
With trembling hands and bated breath, Yoonshin lifts the white cloth. As the two figures in the centre are slowly revealed, Yoonshin’s eyes widen in recognition. Time seems to skitter to a halt as Yoonshin gazes at the painting, completely unaware that Sehun’s eyes are on him. The older man watches as Yoonshin’s expression shifts between surprise and wonder, before finally settling into a look of joy.
“Do you like it?”
Yoonshin feels breathless as he nods. When he rubs the pad of his index against the wooden frame, the realisation of how real all of this is crashes into him like a tidal wave. “How?”
“It’s not an interesting story.”
“I want to know.”
At Yoonshin’s urging, Sehun gently guides him to set the painting on the table. “The original owner passed away some time ago. His children aren’t interested in art, so they were selling everything in his private collection. But none of them knew why this painting was set aside from the others. They assumed that it was because the old man favoured it the most. His granddaughter is in the business, so she handled the sale. She didn’t want to sell it to me at first.”
“What did you do? Did you offer her the highest price?”
“I told her about us.”
Aghast, Yoonshin gawks at him. “Excuse me, Kang Sehun, but you told a random person about us!?”
“I’m not so careless. The transaction was done under a different name.” As he says this, he reaches for Yoonshin’s hand, which he grips tightly. “When I spoke to the granddaughter, she wanted to know why I was so adamant on buying it. I told her that I wanted it to be a gift to my life partner.”
“…”
“I told her that Dans le Lit was my partner’s favourite piece from Lautrec’s collection, and that he would cherish the painting if she sold it to me. Of course, I told her that I wanted it because—” Sehun pauses, seeming just a little nervous, “—I love him.”
Although several years have passed since Sehun had opened up his heart to him and confessed his love, Yoonshin still finds himself at a loss for words whenever Sehun expresses his love through words. Knowing that he’d always been a man of action, Yoonshin had never doubted his love for him. He’d felt it in the kisses he’d pour on him, in the tender touches they shared in the afterglow, and in the way Sehun would look at him, as though Yoonshin was his world.
Feeling rather shy, Yoonshin uses his free hand to scrub his pink cheeks. In the end, it only paints his cheeks in a darker shade of red. “I can’t believe you said that to a stranger.”
Sehun chuckles. “Apparently, her grandfather had left behind a letter instructing her to safeguard this painting and to sell it to someone who’d be sure to give it the love it deserves. Hearing that made me think that there’s no better place for it than our home. What do you think?”
“I’m really touched…”
“I can see that.”
“This is beyond anything I’d expected.”
“I can see that too.”
“Sehun-sunbae, I love you too.”
Whenever Yoonshin confesses his love, Sehun’s cheeks become tinged with a subtle shade of pink. It’s barely discernible, but Yoonshin knows that the older man loves to hear that he’s loved, be it in the bedroom or when they’re being handsy in Sehun’s office. There’s a strangely pure quality to Sehun’s love which makes it seem more boyish, because even though he hides his sincerity under cutting words, he unknowingly wears his heart on his sleeve.
“I know that too.”
“I don’t know how I’m going to beat this. I better start preparing for your next birthday tomorrow.”
Sehun looks at him then, and he makes no effort to hide the fondness in his eyes. “ In a word, it was impossible for me to separate her, in the past or in the present, from the innermost life of my life,” he quotes, rubbing the pad of his thumb over Yoonshin’s rosy cheek. “When we spend our lives together like this, we become each other’s past and present.”
Yoonshin sniffles, instantly recognizing where the quote is from. His teardrops seem to cling onto his eyelashes before they trickle down his cheeks. “I really, really love you. You know that, right?”
Just as he’d done so, many years ago, Sehun holds him in his arms and consoles him with a crushing hug. His warm hands make gentle patting gestures on Yoonshin’s back. “Mhm. Happy birthday, Yoonshin-ah.”
When tomorrow comes, the painting will find its home on their bedroom wall and become a witness of their love.