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It’s not that he was bad with children. It’s just that he didn’t have a whole lot of experience with them.

In theory, he should’ve been really good with children. As a high school teacher, he’s had years of experience under his belt. He’s dealt with teenage delinquents and over-achievers. He could handle their pubescent angst and their growing pains. Going from handling teenagers to looking after small children should be like going from the boss level back to tutorial mode.

So when Xiaoting set off to Japan for a business trip and left her son under his care, Zhang Hao figured that hanging out with his godson for a month would be a breeze. And (perhaps due to his denial that he could ever inherently be bad at anything) it should’ve been… if Ricky Shen hadn’t hit him like a hurricane.

“I’m Boss Baby Ricky,” Ricky stood on his tip-toes to declare to the receptionist. “I’m here to check-in. Bye, Uncle Hao!” he hollered as he ran Naruto-style toward his preschool classroom at the end of the hall. Zhang Hao stared after him, open-jawed and mortified, as he heard the other parents behind him in line snicker quietly behind their hands.

“I am so sorry,” he profusely apologized to the receptionist, feeling his ears redden as he signed Ricky in. “His mother’s let him watch way too many reruns of The Boss Baby this summer.”

“No need to apologize,” the receptionist chuckled. “It’s lovely to see Ricky again! Are you his uncle? Good genes must run in the family.”

“No, but thank you.” Zhang Hao politely smiled. “I’m his godfather. I’m only watching him for a few weeks while his mother’s on a business trip.” He put down the pen and handed her back the clipboard. “When should I come pick him up?”

“Class ends at four. The front desk will be closed at four-thirty.”

“Ah.” Zhang Hao pursed his lips. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to leave work early enough to get here before then. Is there anywhere that Ricky could stay as he waits for me?”

“Oh, that should be no problem,” the receptionist assured. “The front desk closes at four-thirty, but Ricky’s teacher, Mr. Sung, will usually stay a bit later.”

That was his first impression of Mr. Sung—an image in his mind of a kind old man who volunteered his own time for the children and deserved all the good in the world. It seemed like his godson was in good hands. Now that preschool was starting and Ricky was finally going to be occupied by something other than television and Xiaoting’s credit card, caring for his godson was going to be a breeze.

And it was. Until less than 4 hours later when he remembered who he was dealing with.

“Ricky was what?”

“Bitten, Mr. Zhang,” the receptionist calmly replied through the phone. Hao closed the classroom door behind him so that he could hear her better over the cacophony of out-of-tune scales and arpeggios.

“Is he okay? What was he bitten by?” Warmth drained from his face as he pictured Ricky lying limp and white in the hospital as snake venom coursed through his veins, as rabies spread through his nerves...

“Gyuvin, Mr. Zhang.” Hao was about to ask what the heck a gyuvin was when the receptionist continued, “He’s fine. He’s not wounded, but we’re going to need you to come and take him home for the rest of the day so that he can calm down.”

Leaving his students in the middle of class on their first day back wasn’t a great look, but he didn’t have much of a choice. It took him fifteen minutes to find another teacher to cover for him and another fifteen to get his emergency leave approved by the administration office. By the time he finally got to the preschool, he was about an hour late. Ricky was waiting for him, sitting behind the receptionist with his chair facing the wall. Zhang Hao immediately rushed over to him.

“Hey! Ricky! I’m here. Are you alright?”

“No,” Ricky said with a scowl on his face as he turned to face Hao. Hao knelt down beside him. “Gyuvin bit me!”

“Ricky threw his money at me!” A voice from behind him suddenly piped up. Across the room, a small boy with brown hair whose chair was facing the other wall had turned around in protest before the receptionist shushed him and had him turn back around to face the wall.

It turns out that Gyuvin (with a capital “G”) was the name of another boy in Ricky’s class. Gyuvin had been following Ricky around while complaining loudly about always being around Ricky. So Ricky threw some plastic coins (the kind they use to teach counting money in math class) at Gyuvin, and Gyuvin got mad and bit him on the arm. And that was why the two of them were currently in time-out and why their parents had come early to pick them up for the day.

Ricky was telling him all this as the front desk receptionist left to call their teacher over to explain the situation from an adult perspective. As his godson proudly showed him the faint teeth marks on his arm, Zhang Hao felt his blood pressure rise.

“Shen Quanrui,” he growled. Ricky blinked back at him, looking confused as to why his godfather wasn’t more impressed by his battle scars. “What on earth were you thinking?” Zhang Hao snapped.

“But it was Gyuvin’s fault—”

“Ricky kept following me around!” Gyuvin objected from his time-out spot.

“Gyuvin was bothering me—”

“I don’t care what he was doing. You can’t just throw things at people,” Zhang Hao scolded. “You’re almost five. You should know better than this. What am I going to tell your mother?”

“Oh—you won’t have to tell her anything. I’ve already handled it.”

Zhang Hao turned around.

At first, he thought he must’ve been mistaken because there was no way that the most beautiful man he had ever seen was talking to him about… about this.

He forgets how to speak for a minute, or two, or more when their eyes meet. When he finally stood up from kneeling beside Ricky, Zhang Hao wasn’t sure if he was doing it out of politeness to introduce himself or because he wanted to get a better look at him.

Ricky’s teacher was no old man. In fact, he couldn’t have been older than his mid-twenties. He was tall and handsome in his clean-pressed, black button-up. His eyelashes were unusually long. There was a natural sparkle in his eyes like they were the eyes of someone warm and kind and deserved all the good in the world and—

“Teacher!” Gyuvin suddenly hollered, immediately snapping Hao back to reality. “Ricky’s lying!”

“No! No, I’m not!”

“He’s lying to his dad, Mr. Sung—”

“He’s not my dad! He’s my goddad.”

“He’s lying to… What’s a goddad?”

“Heh. Stupid Gyuvin! You don’t even know what a goddad is?”

“Ricky,” the man chided.

“Well, what is it then?”

“It’s… I dunno.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” the man sighed. “Gyuvin, I said that’s enough.” He gently repeated as Gyuvin rolled his eyes at Ricky. Ricky stared blankly back as he continued trying to calculate what a godfather was.

The man then turned to Zhang Hao and smiled. For a second there, Zhang Hao knew exactly how his students felt when he intentionally paired them up “at random” with their crush for a duet. His stomach turned to butterflies.

“Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Ricky’s teacher.” The man held his hand out.

“Hello.” Hao shook his hand, bowing his head as he did so. “I’m his godfather, Zhang Hao. Thank you for taking care of Ricky. I’m so sorry for all of the trouble he’s caused, Mr. Sung.”

“You can call me Hanbin.” His sudden informality caught Hao off-guard, but then again, everything about the sudden appearance of Ricky’s teacher had caught him off-guard. Zhang Hao couldn’t wrap his head around what a guy like him was doing working at a preschool instead of being on TV or modeling on Instagram. “And it’s no worry, really. Ricky has a big heart. I enjoy having him in my class. He’s a good kid.”

“He is?” Gyuvin asked. Privately, Zhang Hao was wondering the same thing except he actually knew better than to say it out loud. Mr. Sung frowned and patted Gyuvin’s back, signaling him to stop eavesdropping and get back to staring at the wall. Ricky made a loud shushing sound towards him.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Zhang Hao said. “I’ll still make sure I speak to him about it once we get home.”

“Oh, you’ve reminded me.” Mr. Sung turned back to the two boys. “Are you two ready to apologize to one another yet?”

“No,” said Ricky.

“I don’t wanna apologize if Ricky doesn’t wanna apologize,” Gyuvin announced. “And Ricky doesn’t do that sort of thing.”

The two boys whipped around to glare at each other, before turning away to fume at their opposite walls in silence. Zhang Hao was starting to feel a migraine come on. He was about to drag Ricky off and lecture him in private when Sung Hanbin spoke up.

“Come on, Gyuvin,” he said gently, as he bent down to softly tousle the small boy’s hair. “You could’ve really hurt Ricky when you bit him.”

“Yeah, Gyuvin.” Ricky agreed. “It could’ve hurt a lot.”

“You don’t have anything that you want to say to that?” Mr. Sung asked Gyuvin.

Gyuvin pouted his lips. He stared at a spot paces away on the floor. “Sorry, Ricky.”

“Ricky?” Mr. Sung prompted.

“Okay,” said Ricky, sighing in relief as he got up from his chair. “Thanks, Gyuvin. Bye-bye—”

“Shen Quanrui.” Zhang Hao grabbed him like a cat by the collar before he could Naruto-dash away, dragging Ricky right back onto the time-out chair. “It’s your turn.”

“Ricky, don’t you have something to say to Gyuvin?” Mr. Sung coaxed.

Ricky thought about it for a second, stroking his chin. “No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Zhang Hao was exasperated. “Gyuvin apologized for biting you, but you were the one who threw things at him first. Do you think grade school will let you get by with this sort of behavior? Why aren’t you taking this seriously?”

Ricky’s eyes widened. His feet stopped kicking and dangled limply down without quite touching the floor as he stared down at them in silence. On the other side of the office, Gyuvin stared at Hao in fearful awe.

Mr. Sung cleared his throat, and Zhang Hao moved aside to let Ricky’s teacher take the spot beside Ricky and lightly pat him on the shoulder. “I think what your godfather is trying to say is that it’s important that we take responsibility for our actions and think them through. Just like how Gyuvin hurt you, you could’ve hurt Gyuvin.”

“I was sad because I thought Ricky didn’t want to play with me,” Gyuvin explained. “But I really wanted to play together because we didn’t get to play all summer because he was in the U.S.. I was so bored this summer. I wanted to go to the U.S. too, but my mom wouldn’t let me,” he told Hao.

“So it sounds like Gyuvin just missed you,” Mr. Sung summarized. “Did you hear that, Ricky? Do you have something you want to tell Gyuvin?” Mr. Sung asked again.

Ricky nodded slowly. “Sorry, I got mad,” he said. “I’ll play with you tomorrow.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Yeah.”

“Swear on it!”

“Nice work.” Hao nearly jumped, as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Sung Hanbin smiled beside him as Ricky and Gyuvin ran toward each other to make their pinky promise official. “It looks like they’ve made up,” Mr. Sung whispered.

Zhang Hao nodded, though he was pretty sure all he had done was make things worse. “Thank you, Teacher. I’m so sorry again for all the trouble,” he repeated, bowing again. “You’re really good with them,” he observed, watching as Ricky proudly showed Gyuvin his bite mark.

“It’s nothing. We make a good team.” Mr. Sung chuckled. There was something really pretty about his smile. Something about the way his aegyo sal creased so that his eyes were smiling too that was definitely what was causing Hao’s heart to go pitter-patter. “I have to get back to my class, but I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Zhang Hao.”

Ricky ran up and tugged on Hao’s hand, signaling him that it was time to go. The receptionist came back from watching Mr. Sung’s class, and Mr. Sung started down the hall back toward his classroom. Zhang Hao watched him go. Even his gait was elegant.

“Uncle Hao? Are we going home?”

“Yeah.” Zhang Hao snapped out of his trance. That’s what the last several minutes had felt like: a weird trance where he had been hypnotized into believing his troublesome godson’s preschool teacher was actually the most perfect man to ever exist and that if he manifested hard enough, then one day as he was picking up Ricky, Sung Hanbin would magically discover that Hao was cute too and fall head over heels in love with him, and they would get married and adopt two daughters who would then gather around grown-up Ricky as he’d tiredly tell them once again the story of how their dads had met through bonding over his Boss Baby-phase in preschool. That kind of weird trance. The kind that was totally normal to have.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

He feared he was beginning to develop a bit of a crush.

* * * * *

In Hao’s eyes, he hadn’t quite made the best first impression on Ricky’s teacher (in his defense, meeting under the circumstance of his kid getting into a fight at preschool was a pretty tough situation to work with), but that wouldn’t have been apparent in the way Mr. Sung acknowledged him. Ricky’s teacher always greeted Hao with a smile when he came to pick Ricky up, and he always made it a point to praise Ricky for sharing his toys or speaking English well or whatever else he did a good job on that day. On some days, he’d be at the front desk in the morning, wishing him a good day before Hao left for work. They were basic gestures, but they did make Hao feel more at ease all the same.

Zhang Hao’s feelings hadn’t really changed. Sung Hanbin still made his heart flutter, but the thing about having a crush on his godson’s preschool teacher was that his crush began and ended there. Mr. Sung didn’t exist outside of the walls of the preschool, and similarly, Zhang Hao didn’t exist to him as anything other than the guardian of one of his students. But it was still fun to start and end his day with Mr. Sung’s delightful smile and a silly bit of daydreaming.

But of course, just as he was beginning to think he could put that embarrassing little first day mishap between Gyuvin and Ricky behind him, it just had to come back to bite him (thankfully, not literally this time).

The following week’s Tuesday, on a day he was running particularly late to pick Ricky up, he arrived at the classroom to find that Ricky was one of only two kids left. The other was Gyuvin, who was standing behind a short-haired woman dressed in business formal attire who was engrossed in conversation with Mr. Sung.

As Hao entered the classroom, Ricky left Gyuvin’s side to skip toward him, causing both Mr. Sung and the woman to look up from their conversation at his arrival.

“Oh—” Mr. Sung’s eyes brightened as he saw him. “Here he is. This is Ricky’s godfather, Mr. Zhang.”

“Hello.” The woman greeted him. She was well-proportioned with long legs and a small and pretty face. She reached out to shake his hand. “I’m Gyuvin’s mom. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hi.” Hao bowed his head politely as they shook hands. “It’s nice to meet you as well.”

“I was just telling Mr. Sung that I was hoping I would run into you here,” she said. “I am so sorry for all the trouble that my Gyuvin’s caused Ricky. I hope you can forgive him.”

“Oh, no, it’s no problem,” Zhang Hao politely reassured. As the adults talked, Ricky and Gyuvin ran off back toward the play zone. “And I apologize on Ricky’s behalf as well. Thank you for coming to speak to me.”

“No, no, thank you for being so understanding,” she flushed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to speak with you sooner. I’ve been extremely busy with work recently, but I was thinking… how about I take Ricky and Gyuvin out for dinner today to make it up to you? Let me take the kids off your hands so that you can go home and rest… Gyuvin-ah!” She turned to the play zone to call out to her son. “Do you want to get fried chicken with Ricky?”

“Aw yeah!” Gyuvin tossed aside the truck he had been playing with. “Ricky, wanna come get fried chicken?”

“Oh, yes,” Ricky grinned.

“Can we go to the arcade after too? Please?” Gyuvin begged her.

“Sure,” Gyuvin’s mom chuckled. “We can go to the arcade.”

“Ricky! My mom’s taking us to the arcade!”

“Oh, yes.”

“Is that alright with you, Mr. Zhang?” Gyuvin’s mom asked. “I know the boys can be a handful, but I’m hoping that this will at least be a good opportunity for them to make up with one another and put the fight behind them…”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Zhang Hao agreed (as if he could ever say no with the way Ricky and Gyuvin both turned on their puppy eyes to stare at him expectedly). “Thank you, ma’am. Please take good care of Ricky.”

They exchanged phone numbers and addresses, and the two boys left with Gyuvin’s mom. The classroom felt peculiarly quiet with only him and Mr. Sung.

“I suppose… I’ll get going too then,” Zhang Hao said hesitantly. It felt sort of weird coming here just to leave. “I’m sorry you’re always made to stay late to watch the boys.”

“Oh, it’s no problem.” There was that beautiful smile again. Mr. Sung had already packed up for the day. He swung on his backpack, and Zhang Hao waited for him so that they could walk out together. “My dance studio’s closer to the preschool than it is to my apartment, so it’s actually not much of a trouble since I usually head there directly after work anyway.”

“You dance?” Zhang Hao’s eyes widened. Mr. Sung chuckled as he locked up the classroom.

“I was a professional full-time dancer for years,” he said as they started down the hall. “I’m still in a crew, and I’ll still perform with them occasionally, but I wanted a career that had a bit more stability, so I took up teaching.”

“That’s incredible.” Zhang Hao was awestruck. “What kind of dance do you do?” he asked, as they headed out the main doors of the preschool.

“My specialty’s in waacking and tutting,” Sung Hanbin replied, and if it were even possible, the coolest guy in the world just got 100 times cooler. He locked up the front doors and stepped out of the shade into the late summer sun. The golden hour beamed more radiantly than diamonds against his skin, or perhaps it was the way Sung Hanbin looked when he talked about his passions that really made him shine. “But I try to vary up my routines, so I’ll do more hip-hop and contemporary-style dances occasionally too. And I really like learning K-pop choreographies as well.”

“So do I,” Zhang Hao said, and he couldn’t help smiling broadly too. “I was in a K-pop cover dance group in college. I only did it for fun, but a few of my friends from it went on to dance professionally.”

“Seriously? I didn’t know you danced. That’s awesome.”

Zhang Hao nodded, feeling excited to have found someone new to bond over his hobby with. “I tried some tutting and waacking as well, but I was never particularly good at it. I’m sure there’s a lot that I could learn from you.”

“Come by the dance studio sometime,” Mr. Sung said. “I’d love for us to dance together. Actually, if you have time right now—ah, no.” His face scrunched up as he interrupted himself. “I almost forgot. The studio’s closed this week for renovation.”

“Oh, I see,” Zhang Hao said. He couldn’t tell if it was just a courtesy invite, but he really did think it’d be fun to dance with Ricky’s teacher. He was feeling a little bummed when a realization hit him. “Thank you for staying so late to look after the kids anyway,” he said. “I’m really sorry you have to do that out of your own free time.”

“You’re too kind, Mr. Zhang.” Hanbin smiled. “Really, like I said, it’s nothing. They’re good kids. I enjoy looking after them.”

“Yes… But I feel like I should still thank you somehow,” Zhang Hao muttered out loud. Mr. Sung started to deny it when an idea suddenly came to Zhang Hao. One that he stole from Gyuvin’s mother. “Actually, if you’re not busy right now…

“Why don’t I treat you to dinner?”

“Is Chinese food okay, Teacher?”

“Hanbin,” Sung Hanbin corrected. His whisker dimples crinkled across his cheeks as he smiled. “You don’t have to address me like a teacher out here. Especially when the kids aren’t around. And yes, Chinese food sounds delicious.”

It was a pleasant day out, so they ended up walking on foot to a Chinese restaurant that was only a few blocks down from the preschool. It was a place that Hao and Xiaoting used to frequent when they first moved to Korea, back before their careers started picking up and it became increasingly difficult for them to find time to meet up. Hanbin held the door open for him as they entered. The interior had changed significantly since Hao had last visited. They had replaced their floors and upgraded most of their furniture.

“Right. Hanbin.” It felt sort of strange to address Ricky’s teacher so informally, but it was also kind of nice all the same. He realized then that this was not only his first time seeing Hanbin outside of the preschool, but also the first time they were completely alone together without any of the kids around. “How old are you?” Hao asked.

“26,” Hanbin replied. They were seated at a table for two by the window in the front of the restaurant. “How old are you?”

“I’m 27.”

“Hm, should I call you ‘Hao-hyung’ then?”

“Sure,” Hao complacently agreed, and Hanbin laughed. Hao felt his stomach do a summersault. Sitting across from one another like this… this was the most squarely he had ever faced Hanbin. It was sort of ridiculous how he was even more handsome up close. “Just ‘Hao’ is fine too.”

He was surprised when they both ordered Zero Cola as their menus were brought out. Hanbin insisted on trying some of the more authentic dishes as opposed to his usual Korean-Chinese go-tos. Hao couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken in Chinese with a non-Chinese person in Korea, but Hanbin was insistent on learning the correct pronunciations of the dishes. He knew a few simple phrases too and told Hao that he was trying to learn more to better connect with some of the Chinese kids in his class.

“When did you and Xiaoting meet?” Hanbin asked. “Did you know each other back in China? I know Ricky was born there.”

Zhang Hao nodded. “We met through some mutual friends who danced professionally back in college.” And to both of their delights, the conversation circled back to dance and then to K-pop and then to music.

“I’m actually an orchestra teacher at a high school near here,” Zhang Hao said, after telling Hanbin that he played the violin.

“You’re a high school teacher?” Hanbin looked so cute when his eyes widened, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a hamster in shock. Hao bit back a smile as he nodded. “Wow—I never would have guessed. Although it makes sense now that you’re telling me about it…”

“Why wouldn’t you have guessed?” Zhang Hao cocked his head curiously to the side. “Do I not seem like a high school teacher to you?”

“Oh, no, it’s just—” Hanbin laughed, but he suddenly seemed a little flustered. Was it the lighting? Was it the spicy mala dishes? Or was his face turning a little red? “Hyung, you’re so young and handsome. I definitely didn’t have teachers like you when I was in high school.”

“Hmph.” Zhang Hao pouted as if it had upset him, but his heart was starting to pound like a drum.

Sung Hanbin was flirting with him, wasn’t he? He was definitely flirting with him. Does he like him?? Does he know that Zhang Hao (sort of) likes him???

Or was Hanbin just doing that thing where he was doting on Zhang Hao like an auntie who thought Zhang Hao was cute, but not the kind of “cute” that Zhang Hao wanted Hanbin to think he was? Or was Hanbin just platonically flattering him the way a dongsaeng does to a hyung they admire? Because both of those sorts of situations also seemed to happen to him a lot. (Not that he was complaining, but Zhang Hao really wished right then that he could pick and choose exactly how his charms were received.)

“I thought dealing with Ricky would be easy since I deal with high schoolers all the time,” Hao admitted. “But I don’t know how you do it. I can’t understand the way he thinks.”

Hanbin laughed. “Honestly, I can’t understand the way Ricky thinks either. He’s such a unique kid, but he has a good heart.

“With kids, you need to have a lot of patience. You have to help them learn empathy and understand other perspectives,” Hanbin explained. As he talked, Hao piled more food into Hanbin’s bowl with his chopsticks. The dishes they had ordered were delicious, but they were very slow in getting through them because of how much they had been talking. “I’m sure high schoolers are actually similar in that way, but younger kids won’t respond to tough love as well when you’re trying to reason with them.”

That made a lot of sense. Hao was self-aware enough to know that he could get a bit naggy at times, but a lot of what worked on his teenage students didn’t seem to work on getting Ricky to behave. “Ricky and Gyuvin will be okay, right?” he suddenly asked Hanbin. “They don’t seem to get along that nicely most of the time. I don’t want there to be any more incidents while they’re out with Gyuvin’s mom…”

“Ricky and Gyuvin are best friends.” Upon seeing the look of pure disbelief on Hao’s face, Hanbin chuckled, “You might not know it just from talking to them about it, but I’ve been watching them together for a while now. It’s always Gyuvin who goes to find Ricky to play with, but Ricky’s the one who brings Gyuvin’s favorite snacks to school just to share them with him at snack time. Gyuvin helps Ricky with his Korean, and Ricky’s the one who helps Gyuvin with his English.” Hanbin smiled at the astonishment on Hao’s face. “It’s a sweet friendship. They might not always act like it, but the boys obviously care a lot about each other.”

The sun had long set, and their remaining food had sat there cold for hours when Hao got a call from Gyuvin’s mom, informing him that she would be on her way to drop Ricky off at Hao’s home shortly. Hao paid the bill, and the two of them walked back towards the preschool together where their cars were parked.

“Thank you for dinner,” Hanbin said, as it came time for them to part. “I really enjoyed getting to know you better, Hao.”

“You too,” said Hao. They were standing several feet apart. It was too awkward for anything to happen.

Besides, it’s not like this was a date. This was just him treating his godson’s preschool teacher as a thank you. It just so happened that he had had a really good time. It just so happened that he really, really wanted Sung Hanbin to kiss him.

As happy as he felt, there was an ache in his chest that Zhang Hao couldn’t quite shake off. “Thank you for taking care of Ricky.”

For a moment, Hanbin didn’t say anything either. After a pause that drowned even the cicadas in the summer air, Hanbin slowly nodded. “Of course,” he said softly.

Zhang Hao unlocked his car and looked away, breaking eye contact before getting in and driving home.

* * * * *

Something shifted in his universe after that dinner with Sung Hanbin. To the outsider, everything looked the same. He was still the same Zhang Hao who taught high school orchestra who picked up his godson from preschool every weekday, and Sung Hanbin was still the same Sung Hanbin who greeted him with a smile before locking up to head off to dance practice after work. Everything was the same.

And yet, whether it be on another plane of existence or entirely in Zhang Hao’s imagination, everything had changed.

Because there was something a little different about how these days when he came to pick Ricky up, Zhang Hao would find himself lingering just a little while longer to make small talk. Something about how as they walked out of the school together on days Ricky was the last to leave, they’d walk close enough to one another that their hands would brush. Something about how when they laughed together, Hao would find himself naturally grabbing onto Hanbin’s arm and vice versa. Something about how he would lose all words whenever he caught Hanbin staring at him and seconds would pass with the two of them staring at each other in silence before one of them remembered that they had been talking about something.

But all of this only happened in the short windows of time he had with Sung Hanbin when he was dropping off and picking up Ricky within the confined boundaries of the preschool, which meant that all of it probably meant nothing, yet Zhang Hao found himself lying awake at night anyways, wondering if he was delusional for thinking that Hanbin might be interested in him too.

One Friday afternoon, a week before Xiaoting was scheduled to return from Japan, he canceled his afternoon office hours session, thinking that it might be nice to spend some time with his godson and take Ricky and Gyuvin to see a movie. (He was also thinking that it was about time he got his godson a new obsession because Zhang Hao really didn’t think he could take another week of The Boss Baby references.)

It was the most punctual he had ever been to pick Ricky up. There were a few children he had never seen before running amok in Hanbin’s classroom, and he saw Hanbin in the back corner with a group of them who looked like they were trying to cook him some plastic hamburgers.

“What? You’re here already?” Ricky looked up from the coloring book he was working through. “But I haven’t finished.”

“You haven’t finished?” Gyuvin stood up to take a look at Ricky’s coloring page from across the table. “You’re so slow. Look. I’m done already.” Where Ricky’s coloring was mostly within the lines, Gyuvin’s was very creative, sprawling all over the place.

“Nice job, Gyuvin,” Zhang Hao commented, ruffling the boy’s hair as Gyuvin proudly showed him his work. Gyuvin beamed.

“Hao-hyung!” Hanbin waved at him from across the room. After assuring his private chefs that he would be right back, he approached him. “You’re here early. Don’t you have office hours?”

“Uncle Hao is taking us to see a movie,” Gyuvin told him excitedly. “Mr. Sung, do you wanna come?”

“Aw, you’re so lucky. I wish I could, but I can’t.” Sung Hanbin looked so cute when he pouted, and Zhang Hao almost kicked himself for missing it because he was so busy picturing himself holding hands with Hanbin at the movies. “I need to watch over the rest of your friends until their parents get here. Can you tell me if the movie’s any good once you get back?”

“Yeah!”

“Teacher.” A boy who looked a year or two older than Ricky and Gyuvin appeared behind Hanbin and tugged on his sleeve. “Can we play house?”

“Sure, Doha,” Hanbin responded. “Why don’t you get everything ready, and I’ll be right there.”

“Oh, house!” Ricky’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes. I wanna play.”

“But what about the movie?” Gyuvin asked Hao. “Can we stay and play? Please? Only five minutes.”

“Sure,” Hao agreed. He checked the time on his phone, keeping in mind that they were for sure going to be staying for much longer than five minutes. “We have some time before the movie starts.”

“Okay, thanks! Doha! Ricky and I are playing! Bahiyyih, Yujinie—do you wanna play with us?”

Gyuvin ran ahead, dragging Ricky along as he gathered the other children around. He certainly was the social butterfly. Hao chuckled to himself when suddenly, he felt a tap on his leg.

Doha, the boy who had initially approached Hanbin, was looking up at him expectantly. “Do you want to play house with us?”

“Oh… okay,” Zhang Hao said after a moment of contemplation. Hanbin had said that having empathy and perspective was important when it came to looking after children, so maybe playing with them would help Hao understand them better. “I’ll play. Who should I be?”

“Can you be the dad?” Doha looked excited. “And Mr. Sung can be our other dad.”

What.

What.

“So Hao-hyung and I are married.” Hanbin laughed, and Zhang Hao laughed too, even though he was pretty sure his face was bright red and internally he was rolling on the floor screaming. “Come on, honey.”

Hanbin smiled as he offered Hao his arm and led him over to the play corner with a toy kitchen and a bunch of bean bag chairs that they were pretending were beds. Hao’s heart was thumping so fast he thought it might jump right out of his chest. This was just like in that one Chinese BL where the two leads had to pretend to be a married couple to keep their family fortune and then fell in love for real. Except this was him and Hanbin. Him and Hanbin. This was exactly like that BL.

(It was nothing like that BL.)

Gyuvin and another boy named Gunwook took charge of getting everyone in order, assigning roles and giving them backstories. Doha was Hanbin and Hao’s eldest son who was super rich and owned the whole house. Bahiyyih and Hikaru wanted to be twins. Youngeun was their eldest daughter who actually lived in America and only visited when she felt like it. Gunwook was Hanbin’s dad(?), Ollie and Yujin were the babies (Yujin didn’t look too happy about that), and Ricky was—

“Ricky’s the cat.” Gyuvin and Gunwook cackled, and Hao had to pull Ricky away before he started trying to attack them.

“Gyuvinie, who are you then?” Hao asked, changing the conversation in an attempt to keep the peace.

“Gyuvin’s the dog,” Ricky shot back.

“Okay! I’ll be the dog. Woof!” Gyuvin barked at him. “Ugh, Ricky. You’re supposed to be afraid of me,” he whined when Ricky only stared at him blankly.

And with roles assigned, they began to play. Having grown up as an only child, Zhang Hao couldn’t say he had ever experienced being in a household this big or this chaotic, but at least in this play simulation, it didn’t seem all that bad.

He and Hanbin started their day off with a breakfast of plastic sandwich parts that their twin daughters had cooked for them. Hao had a tall glass of nothing for his drink, and Hanbin had a bottle of ketchup. After breakfast, their eldest daughter came back from America and gifted them all authentic American souvenirs (marbles and random Barbie accessories) before they sent her off with a tearful farewell as she set off for Australia right after. His father-in-law, Gunwook, spent all day grumpily watching TV, reading the news, and snoring. Bahiyyih and Hikaru left later that afternoon to go camping. Then their dog died because Hanbin had forgotten to feed him, but, luckily, he came back alive a few minutes later after he “got bored of being dead”. Doha came back from his part-time job where he had made a ton of money, so he and Hao went to the market to buy a bunch of food that they all cooked together to make a grand feast for the whole family that even Youngeun came back from Australia to help out with.

All in the span of a single day.

As Hanbin wrapped up Yujin and Ollie’s bedtime story, Hao made sure that Ricky and Gyuvin were fed and watered so that they wouldn’t have any more surprise pet funerals to hold. Finally, when all the kids and the pets were “asleep” on their bean bags or sprawled on random spots on the carpet, Hanbin made his way back over to him.

“Why aren’t you two sleeping?” Bahiyyih asked, rolling around to look at them.

“Because your dad and I still need to do the dishes,” Hanbin replied, and he and Hao made their way over to the toy kitchen station.

“Good work today,” Hanbin spoke quietly in a hushed tone as he and Hao started “doing the dishes” (cleaning up the mess the kids had made). “You make an amazing dad.”

“Really?” Hao asked. He looked over at his “sleeping” children who were giggling silently or poking one another to get a reaction.

Hanbin nodded. He really did look so pretty when he smiled. “The kids adore you. I think you’re great with them.”

Hao let out a happy sigh as he sat down against the play kitchen. “I think I’ve gotten better,” he admitted. He turned to Hanbin, who had taken a seat down right next to him, close enough that their shoulders pressed right against one another’s. “You’re a great teacher, Hanbin-ah.”

“We make a good team,” Hanbin grinned. He held his hand out, and Hao took it. “We make good partners,” he muttered.

Hao was suddenly very aware of the beating of his own heart again. It was so loud in his ears, that he worried for a moment if Hanbin could hear it too with how very close they were. He could count every hair of Hanbin’s eyelashes. He could distinguish every shade of brown in Hanbin’s eyes. He could see every fine line of Hanbin’s soft lips as they got closer and closer and closer and—

“MR. SUNG!!! RICKY SCRATCHED ME!!!!” Gyuvin screeched.

Chaos immediately broke out before them as Ricky started chasing Gyuvin around with a wicked grin on his face as Gunwook snickered, edging them on. Bahiyyih was yelling at them all to go back to sleep, Youngeun was already out the door on the way to catch her flight to Antarctica, and Hanbin…

Zhang Hao blinked once, and suddenly, Sung Hanbin was paces away, eyes averted from his as he cleared his throat, standing up and demanding order in his classroom. Zhang Hao sat there, feeling dazed as he stared up at the back of Hanbin’s reddened neck, before he stood up too, capturing Ricky and Gyuvin before apologizing for the mess and insisting that they should really start heading for the movie as he dragged the two boys out the door.

* * * * *

Zhang Hao had had enough.

There was no doubt about it. He had replayed that scene in his mind a dozen, a hundred, a million times. Sung Hanbin had definitely intended to kiss him, and he had definitely intended to kiss Sung Hanbin. Enough was enough. He had to do something about it.

He had to ask Sung Hanbin out. For real this time.

There were a few issues, however, that came with this plan. The first was the most obvious—Hanbin was still Ricky’s teacher. That might cause a weird dynamic both between the two of them and between Hanbin and Ricky, and Ricky’s education had to come first. It didn’t feel right to act impulsively on any of his feelings while he was still serving as Ricky’s guardian, and he was sure it wouldn’t bode well with the parents of the other children if word were to get out about it. If Hao was to ask him out, it would have to wait until right before Xiaoting returned.

The second one was that, well, he had never asked anyone out before.

As vain as it sounded, he hadn’t ever needed to. Zhang Hao knew he had pretty privilege. He knew that strangers had been sneaking pictures of him while he was out in public since he was in high school. Once in a while, a friend of his would send him a viral post with a picture or video of himself that he hadn’t even known was taken. Zhang Hao knew his charms. He knew he was cute. He had never had issues with getting whoever he was attracted to to ask him out.

Which was why it was so frustrating that it hadn’t happened yet with Sung Hanbin.

Then again… given Hanbin’s personality, it was almost certain that Hanbin—under the assumption that he did hold the same feelings for Hao—must have been taking Ricky’s situation into consideration as well.

That thought helped ease the yearning just as much as it made it worse because, if anything, it made Hao like Hanbin even more.

He decided over the weekend that he would ask Hanbin out on Friday. It made perfect sense. Xiaoting would be back in Korea the following week. And at worst… if Hanbin said no, Zhang Hao would never have to see him again.

Hao didn’t even want to think about what would happen if Hanbin said no.

It was about as perfect of a plan as he could come up with, and just in case Hanbin needed some more convincing, he had a full week to get dolled up and look extra pretty when he came in to pick Ricky up from preschool.

But on Monday afternoon, his whole plan came crashing down.

“Hello?” He answered his phone in Chinese.

“Hao!” Xiaoting chirped back. “How are you? Are you busy right now? Is this still your planning period?”

“Yes, I’m in my planning period, but my next class is starting soon,” he said, glancing at the time in the corner of his laptop. “What’s up? How’s Japan?”

“It was great. A bit tiring, though, and I missed Ricky a lot, but I managed to meet up with some friends I haven’t seen in a while, so that was pretty fun,” Xiaoting replied. “How was Ricky, by the way? I heard about the biting incident. I really hope he didn’t give you too much trouble.”

“No, no, not at all,” Zhang Hao replied, and as he said it, he realized it was completely true. “It was great spending time with Ricky. We had a lot of fun together.”

“That’s a relief,” Xiaoting sighed. “Ricky, do you want to say something to your godfather?” Her voice sounded a little further away. Zhang Hao frowned.

“Wait—are you with Ricky?”

“Oh, yes. I am,” Xiaoting responded. “The agency got my schedule mixed up, so I flew back this morning. I picked him up from preschool already, so you won’t need to worry about it.”

“...Oh.”

“Thank you so much again, for looking after him,” Xiaoting said. “I really owe you one.”

He was at a loss for words.

“Hello? Hao? Did you break up? I can’t hear anything from your end.”

He set his phone down on his desk, staring down at it in silence. He hadn’t even managed to get his phone number.

“Hao? Are you still—”

“I’m still here,” he said finally. “It’s no problem.”

“I’ll treat you to dinner—”

“Yeah,” he interrupted. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

And he hung up before she could say another word.

* * * * *

He couldn’t help but think that he had no one else to blame for this situation but himself.

Several times, the thought that he should just march into the preschool and ask Hanbin out anyway crossed his mind, but he immediately shoved that thought away as too strange and kind of inappropriate. A preschool was not somewhere a child-less adult randomly showed up. He didn’t want to cross any boundaries, but there was more to it than that.

The truth is that as much as he loved hanging out with Ricky, as much as he laughed during his conversations with Gyuvin, and as much as he missed Sung Hanbin with every fiber of his being, a part of him always knew that the life he had been living for the past three weeks was not his. It was not his responsibility to drop Ricky off and pick him up from school daily. Ricky was not his son. The other kids at the preschool weren’t his children either. And Sung Hanbin was not his boyfriend. It was all just playing house.

And that’s all there was to it.

His apartment felt much lonelier as it returned to its usual state. There was a feeling of emptiness that grew as he picked up and filed the drawings that Ricky had left in a folder to give Xiaoting and boxed up all the toys and clothes his godson had left behind. When he got tired of moping around, he went to the gym and into the dance studio to lose himself in music, but even there, he thought once again about Sung Hanbin.

On Thursday of that week, on his way home from the gym, he got another phone call from Xiaoting.

“Yes?”

“Hey, Zhang Hao,” she said coolly. “I said I would treat you to dinner, and then you never responded. Do you want free food or not?”

He fell silent for a moment, lost in his own thoughts.

“Hello? Hao—?”

“Yeah, let’s get dinner,” he said. “I’m fine with whenever.”

“Okay.” She paused for a moment. “Actually, Hao… could I ask you for a favor?”

“What is it?”

“Can you pick Ricky up from school tomorrow?”

Zhang Hao stopped dead in his step in the middle of the sidewalk. An old man behind him cursed slightly as he almost bumped into him.

“What?”

“I need you to pick Ricky up from school tomorrow,” Xiaoting repeated. “I can’t make it. I… um, I have an appointment.”

“What appointment?” he breathed. It was as if his heart was beating life back into him.

“A really important one. It’s… uh, I’m tired and just don’t feel like going—”

“You don’t feel like picking him up?” Zhang Hao nagged, but he couldn’t really bring himself to mean it. He couldn’t stop smiling. “What kind of mother—”

“Zhang Hao, are you serious?” Xiaoting asked, sounding exasperated. “I’m giving you an opportunity. Are you taking it or not?”

“...What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid with me,” Xiaoting chided. “Hao, you were acting so weird when I told you I was back in Korea.”

“I’m—I wasn’t acting weird—”

“Zhang Hao,” Xiaoting said. “You should have seen his face when I entered the classroom. His whole face dropped.” Hao’s heart pounded in his ears. “I almost felt offended by how disappointed he looked to see me, but Ricky started telling me stories—”

“What?” Hao sputtered. “What did he say?”

“—and I pieced it together pretty quickly after that.” Xiaoting ignored him. “Now, do you want to ‘help’ me out or not?”

“Yes,” he quickly agreed before she could change her mind. “Yes, thank you. I’d love to help you. It is so good to see you back. I love you.”

“Save your confession for the one it’s meant for.” She laughed through the other end of the phone. “But I’m glad you’re sounding much better, and I love you too.”

* * * * *

He was a nervous mess when he walked back into that preschool.

The way he stalled before entering Hanbin’s classroom was not unlike the way a high school delinquent lingers before entering the principal’s office. Finally, shoving all his fears aside, Hao took a deep breath and knocked on the door frame.

“Ricky,” he called, well aware of how in the corner where his back was turned to play legos with Gunwook and Youngeun, Hanbin’s head suddenly perked up. “It’s time to go home.”

“Uncle Hao!” Ricky grinned, dashing over Naruto-style to hug him. Hao smiled back.

“Hey, Ricky,” he said, and feeling another pair of eyes on him, slowly he looked up. “Hi, Hanbin-ah.”

“Hao-hyung.” Hanbin’s eyes were wide in surprise. His mouth formed an adorable shaped ‘O’. Hao couldn’t help but smile at the sight, and slowly, Hanbin smiled back.

With his whisker dimples and his puffy aegyo sal and the sparkle of all the stars in his eyes, Sung Hanbin really did have the most beautiful smile.

“It—it’s good to see you again,” Hanbin finally said, laughing slightly to break the silence that had suspended as they stared at each other. “I wasn’t expecting you! Where’s Xiaoting?”

“Um, at an appointment.” Suddenly, Hao felt like his Korean wasn’t very good. Phrases didn’t seem to form properly in his brain or in his mouth. “It was really import… she didn’t feel like coming.”

Hanbin looked puzzled. “Xiaoting didn’t want to come… pick up her son?”

“Well, no… Ah,” Hao cleared his throat as if that would help his brain fog when he had completely forgotten what he’d wanted to say. “Look, Hanbin,” he said, already feeling himself turning red. “I’ve been meaning to ask—”

“Do you want to get dinner with me?” Hanbin blurted out.

Hao’s jaw dropped in surprise. Then they both started laughing, and Hao immediately reached to grab Hanbin’s arm to steady himself on instinct. It just felt so natural.

“Dinner where?” Ricky asked. “Can I come?”

“No,” Hao shut him down immediately. Upon seeing the frown on Ricky’s face, he quickly cleared his throat. “Um, not this time, but you can come next time for sure. Mr. Sung and I just need to talk about some really boring grown-up things… like… homework.”

“Yes, homework,” Hanbin agreed still staring straight into Hao’s eyes. “And other things like taxes and washing dishes and grading papers—”

“Oh,” said Ricky, losing interest immediately. “Never mind.”

Hao chuckled, “Maybe next time we can all go together, and you can invite Gyuvin, and we can go to an arcade or play bowling afterward. How does that sound?”

“Oh, yes,” Ricky grinned, and he skipped on ahead. “I’m going to call Gyuvin when I get home and tell him that.”

“Don’t get too far. Wait for me by my car,” Hao called after him.

Besides him, Hanbin chuckled, “We haven’t even gone on our first official date yet, and you’re planning for our next one, hyung?”

“What? I—” Zhang Hao blushed, but Hanbin only laughed, sliding arm across Hao’s waist. “I had to tell Ricky something.”

“Sure.” Hanbin smiled. “But just know that I’m holding you to it.”

* * * * *

On Saturday evening, they go to dinner, and they do talk about homework and taxes and grading papers. They also talked about dancing and violin and K-pop and learning languages and their students and favorite foods and skin care, and, as the list went on, Zhang Hao realized that he never wanted that list to end.

“Honestly, it was from the moment I met you,” Zhang Hao confessed as he walked along the city streets with his arm linked with Hanbin’s. He traced his finger along the tattooed English line along Hanbin’s arm, which until today when he saw Hanbin in a t-shirt for the first time, he didn’t even realize Hanbin had. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you at all.”

“Oh.” Hanbin smiled. His eyes glittered prettily under the street lights. “For me, I think it happened during our first real conversation. When we had dinner together at that Chinese restaurant. It made me realize how similar we were. I remembered feeling like I just wanted to keep talking to you.”

“Hm,” Hao contemplated. “I like talking to you too,” he said, staring into Hanbin’s eyes until he could distinguish every shade of brown, count every strand of hair in his lashes, before trailing his gaze downwards along his face. Hao pouted softly. “But I was kind of disappointed when all we did was just talk.”

Without anyone to interrupt them this time, Hao stepped forward and kissed him, and all the butterflies in his stomach were set free, leaving his stomach feeling all giddy and sparkly. Hanbin’s lips were warm and soft, and his hand on Hao’s jaw was firm but gentle, and—

“Should we go somewhere else?” Hanbin asked, pulling away breathlessly.

“My house?” Hao offered before smiling right as Hanbin closed in and kissed him again.

When they got back to Zhang Hao’s apartment, they didn’t play house.