Archive of Our Own

The air was freezing and frosted as Choi Chanhee stepped off the plane– his scarf nearly ten times the size of his head. His fingers were frostbitten, his cheeks were red, and his mobility was slowed. He tilted his head up, only catching a view of a black sky complete with twinkles of snowflakes and stars. He clutched his carry-on and sighed, making his way down the steps.

It was December, and he had just been fired from his job in Los Angeles.

Choi Chanhee, a distinguished air traffic controller who had been laid off from one of the biggest airline companies in America, was exhausted. Even though he hated his job and regretted his career choice (he worried every day that his lead would cause major accidents in the sky), he still felt the deep sadness employment brought.

Refusing to stay in his expensive apartment with best friend and ex-coworker Kevin Moon, he decided it was time to fly back to his hometown. Truly, he had no reason to return– his parents no longer lived there, and he hadn’t been back since he’d graduated high school. Though he hated the idea of once again being stuck in the humble town, the ache of nostalgia turned him directly there. Besides, his aunts and uncles were still stuck there, constantly waiting for the comfort of their nieces and nephews to visit (even if they weren’t that close).

Miles away, his school friend Eric had received a late night call from Chanhee– desperately asking if he could possibly stay with him for a few months until he found another job. Though they hadn’t spoken in months, Eric was a welcoming soul, happy to oblige (and happy to receive a call from him at all). Chanhee was grateful, as he had refused to tell his aunt that he’d be returning in fear of her anger.

“Hope you had a good flight, sir,” The steward wished him farewell as he entered the airport, hating the crisp air as soon as he had stepped foot off the plane.

His fingers slowly began to thaw back to life as he checked his phone for texts. Eric had let him know that he was waiting for a pickup right outside. Chanhee swiftly grabbed his luggage from baggage claim and flew out the rotating doors, bile rising in his throat as he prepared to meet his high school friend (whom he hadn’t physically seen in maybe four years). The chilled air hit him once again, eliciting a soft grumble.

He found Eric in his old beat-up pickup truck, courtesy of the long line of generational farm workers. Beaming, the brown-haired man rushed out his vehicle to embrace Chanhee in a warm hug. 

“God…my Choi Chanhee…you are freezing cold,” Eric whispered into his neck.

Chanhee only giggled, enjoying the heat that trickled through him. However, he felt like sobbing (he’d cried on the flight, he’d cried when he got laid off, he cried when packing, and he cried in Kevin’s arms). 

He didn’t want to cry again.

“Christ…it's been so…so long. God, Chanhee– you have no idea how much I’ve missed you…how we've missed you,” Eric’s eyes were brimming with tears. At the sight of that, Chanhee let his eyes glisten as well.

“I’ve missed you too,” he responded, his voice barely a croak. He held Eric for a few more seconds before pulling away.

“You’re going to be so excited to see the business.”

“The business?”

“The business! Hyunjae and I– I mean, Jaehyun and I run a really cute cafe.”

Jaehyun.

Despite being in the heated car, Chanhee’s body ran ice cold once again. He gulped and tried his best to avoid eye contact, cringing at the sound of the name.

“Oh…lord. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come on too strong. I know you guys haven’t talked in…some time,” his voice was soft. 

Lee Jaehyun was Chanhee’s childhood best friend– the pair had been inseparable all the way up until high school. Despite growing up together, the two had drifted away after Chanhee made the decision to travel miles away for college once he graduated. However , there was a looming issue.

For years, Choi Chanhee’s heart burned for Jaehyun. He’d been in love with him since middle school, always pining but never confessing. He’d given up when Jaehyun told him that he’d plan to marry his high school sweetheart, a friendly girl he’d been dating throughout the four years. Though supportive, it was ultimately the biggest reason why Chanhee decided to leave.

Though Jaehyun fought to keep him there, Chanhee left with many regrets. They hadn’t talked since– Jaehyun was mad, and Chanhee was heartbroken. There was no reason to continue in contact. It had been seven years since– and apparently, he and Eric were still friends.

The car turned dead silent as Chanhee attempted to warm his hands. Noticing the discomfort, Eric threw him a hand warmer. 

“You don’t have to worry about his reaction, you know.”

Chanhee chose to remain silent.

“Chan…it was years ago. He understands at this point. You wanted a career, you wanted to get out of here. That wasn’t his dream– he shouldn’t have ever gotten mad at you,” Eric continued.

Chanhee’s eyes were trained down at his feet, his hands gripping the warmer with intensity.

“And…I know. I know why you left . You don’t have to be ashamed.”

The quiet boy immediately shot up in perfect posture.

“Eric! That’s not, that’s not–”

“Whether or not you still feel the same way about him, I get it. And no, he didn’t know. He never knew. Don’t worry. I would never tell him.”

Chanhee felt himself relax back into the seat. He wiped away the small tears that flowed down his cheeks. He wasn’t even sad– just defeated. Though he’d never told Eric about his feelings for Jaehyun, he had long since figured it out. 

Chanhee always had a feeling that was the case. Growing up, Eric was the most observant person in his life.

“How…how is his…wife?” Chanhee’s voice was barely a whisper– he’d been much louder and confident in his younger days.

The truck once again fell silent. That time, it was Eric’s turn to refuse conversation. He waited a few minutes before saying anything at all.

“Don’t worry about that until you get there, Chan,” his voice was hardened.

Pulling up to the town he grew up in sent chills of anxiety down Chanhee’s body, his hands wrapping around his torso to provide some sort of comfort. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t text Kevin for emotional support every minute he walked the ground that raised him. Snow littered the houses, the shops, the gardens, and the schools.

He didn’t feel at home. He didn’t feel at home in the city, either. He didn’t know where he belonged at that point. He only trailed behind Eric, praying that his high school friendship would prevail– that something else could make him feel as if he needed to belong somewhere .

Chanhee’s lips were a hue of dark blueish purple and his scarf once again became tangled in the chilled wind. He peered around him, engulfing the sights of buildings that once brought him a sense of peace and acceptance. Deep sadness ran through him as he thought about Jaehyun and the friendship they could have sustained if communication had been present in their young, ignorant, and lost selves.

“Here it is! I know how much you loved cats in high school. You’re gonna love it here,” Eric’s voice had returned to its cheerful self.

“C…Cats??” Chanhee’s voice was still small and shaky. He was only confused.

However, the glowing neon lights of the building before him nearly burned his retinas– the sign read “Keiko’s Cats & Cakes.” The silent boy blinked a few times. The lavender-colored building wasn’t there when he was younger. In fact, it was so out of place that the tractor beside made it look almost comical. In no universe would he have ever expected his farming town to boast a pastel and bright cat cafe.

“Eric? There is…there is no way this is the business you were referring to.”

In awe, Chanhee pressed his face against the glass, doing his best to peer into the humble shop. He gasped as a seal-point Siamese cat suddenly appeared directly in front of him, gently pawing exactly where Chanhee’s hand laid on the other side. The friendly cat cocked his head in fascination as the boy stumbled backwards.

“Oh my god. You weren’t kidding. You…you opened up a cat cafe in a town with barely 3,000 people,” his voice was the loudest it had been since the pickup.

“Hey! Those are big numbers for us!” Eric guffawed.

Chanhee watched with starstruck eyes as his friend entered the shop, a jingle of bells following. There were Christmas decorations littering the front– small trees with ornaments, cats with Santa hats, snowflake stickers on the glass, and a mistletoe hanging from the door. He could barely bring himself to step forward before Eric grasped his wrists to drag him inside.

Inside was just as lovely: the shop smelled delightful (courtesy of the essential oils dispersing out the cat-themed diffuser), there were carpet cat trees, cat portraits, cat toys and of course– cats.

Chanhee’s mood slowly rose as he watched a gray tabby pounce onto a spare bed, his purr-motor running at the sight of the boy. Chanhee smiled softly and reached his hand out, immediately receiving the cat’s nuzzle. The bell on his color jingled softly as Chanhee continued to pet it.

“Cute, isn’t it?” Eric said.

Chanhee could only smile, enjoying the warmth of the friendly cat. He felt another cat at his feet, rubbing against his ankles. It was a small black cat with bright yellow eyes. Suddenly, he felt another round of tears come forth (this time, they were tears brimming with sudden comfort). However, he refused to cry in front of those who no longer knew him well enough.

“Just so you know, Chan. Hyunjae– I mean Jaehyun …he changed his name to Hyunjae after…after something…uh…happened.”

Chanhee was confused again. The gray tabby had lost interest, jumping down at his feet instead.

“He what? What happ–”

“What a delight– back from the big bad city, Choi Chanhee?” The voice was loud and boisterous as it had been seven years prior. The cafe was warm and cozy– a little girl sat at the register right next to the tall man. Chanhee stared in shock and in surprise.

“Lee..Jaehyun? Is that… your daughter?”

Chanhee’s whole world paused as he stared at the black-haired child swinging her feet off the large stool. She was the only one smiling in the entire room. Chanhee said nothing as he made direct eye contact with his one and only unrequited love. 

“ Hyunjae. I’m Hyunjae. And this is…” he ruffled the girl’s hair. “Keiko, my daughter. ”

Chanhee’s carry-on hit the floor with a loud “thud,” frightening the three cats that had piled upon his feet. Though he knew Hyunjae had gotten married, he had no clue that he also had a child. Not a single soul ever bothered to tell him. Another part of him perished as he pondered the kind of things the two no longer knew about one another. He was so sick of crying.

“Jae– I mean Hyunjae. W-what…did I miss?”

His tear ducts had once again failed him.

🐈

“How long are you staying with Eric?” Hyunjae asked, sitting directly across a shell-shocked Chanhee. His expression was difficult to read.

After the initial meeting, Eric had left the two to work out the kinks that had been abandoned seven years ago (he had taken Keiko out for ice cream to let the two speak alone). Despite their sour departure from one another, the reunion was strangely comforting. It was as if they had only spoken maybe seven weeks ago, not seven years. Chanhee’s hands were finally warmed, thanks to the steaming cup of hot chocolate his childhood crush had whipped up. Though lost and dazed, he was happy with the company of a warm drink and numerous cats rubbing up against his shoulder blades.

“I…I don’t know.”

Hyunjae raised a suspicious eyebrow.

“Until you find another job, I suppose. But I don’t know why you came here of all places. You’re not going to find another major airline that’s going to hire you unless you’re interested in the private airport down the street.”

Chanhee’s heart ached in response to the cold tone. Only the cats kept his mood at bay.

“I didn’t even know you knew where I worked,” he muttered, keeping his head down.

“Of course I knew. Eric never stopped updating me about you. I never stopped wondering,” Hyunjae sounded annoyed.

The statement came as another shock– he rarely spoke to Eric. He didn’t realize that his thoughts were still plagued with the fleeting memory of the boy who left for good. And out of all things…Hyunjae still cared.

“He never updated me about you. He never told me you had a daughter. For god’s sake Hyunjae, that’s a huge milestone. You could have at least sent me a photo.”

“We weren’t on speaking terms,” Hyunjae’s voice was suddenly sullen.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We’re adults now. It's all behind us. I have a five-year old daughter and a dead wife.”

Chanhee’s eyes widened in horror as he clutched his cup, staring at Hyunjae.

“What???”

The disgruntled man could only elicit a small laugh. There was pain laced within every smile, Chanhee knew that look all too well.

“You remember her, of course. I married the quiet Japanese girl from high school. Then she died on me three years ago. Her and that fucking autoimune disease, or whatever,” his words were strained.

“Of course I remember her. Her name was Seiko. She was an international student who came and never left because of you. I’m so sorry, Hyunjae.”

He only smiled.

“If you were wondering, I changed my name to Hyunjae a year after. Wanted a fresh start in a way that wouldn’t entail leaving this town. We started this cafe together, anyway. Wasn’t always a cat cafe. I just needed something comforting before I lost my mind.”

“Was it always named after your daughter?” Chanhee inquired, his memory flashing back to the bright neon sign out front.

“Yeah. It was.”

Chanhee grinned.

“I can see how all this would be healing. I hope that you have begun to find peace. And Eric better be helping you raise the angel! Is he?”

“She calls him uncle Eric. He’s terribly irresponsible in nature, but he helps a lot. He took over co-ownership after Seiko passed. Things have been shit, of course. But if I didn’t have him I don’t know what would be left to my name at this point.”

“You’re a good father,” Chanhee’s voice was low.

Hyunjae’s cheeks lit up as the sentence left his friend’s lips. He ran hands through disheveled hair and let out a big sigh to cover up the blushing.

“I try. I really do.”

“For all that you’ve been through, I think you’re doing a lovely job.”

“Thanks. It's nice to hear that. I’m starting to get sick of just seeing Eric’s face around,” he joked.

Chanhee had never expected the reunion to be so easy, perhaps that’s what it meant to be an adult. He was already reeling from being in his hometown– he suddenly had to process the idea that his longtime love was a father…a single father. And Eric, of all people, was a step-in uncle. 

Hyunjae had graduated high school and settled into a family. Chanhee had gone to college and led an incredibly stressful career. They were both below the age of 30 yet possessed wisdom for individuals 20 years older. The contrast in their lives gave him whiplash. The hot chocolate was becoming cold as his thoughts raced in silence.

It hurt more knowing that Hyunjae had always desired to leave his town. Farming crops and raising barn animals was far away from the dreams he once had. Chanhee couldn’t help but wonder if Hyunjae had ever possessed any form of jealousy– he wanted to go to culinary school and become a big-time baker. He wanted to live a life that was full of city lights and promises made underneath a fog-ridden sky.

But he stayed. He stayed– and it seemed as if he would never complain, nor ever bring up his dream again. But at least he had achieved half of it: running a cafe, baking his favorite cupcakes that Chanhee missed eating, and having someone to love alongside a humble life. 

“Chanhee,” Hyunjae had broken the silence, eagerly waiting for attention.

“What is it?”

“I’m sorry, too. I should have…I should have never left you in the dark like that. I was bitter– you were going to have the life that I always wanted. I loved Seiko, but she wanted to stay. I didn’t mind starting a family. But…but part of me wished I had followed a different route.”

“Hyunjae…”

Chanhee’s suspicions had been correct– there had been residual jealousy. His heart was sinking deeper and deeper in his chest, aching at every word that flowed out his estranged best friend.

“I never wanted to leave you be. I never wanted to lose our friendship. I wish you could have been at my wedding, wish you could have seen Keiko’s first steps, wish I could have visited you…wish I could have…”

The words were slowed and croaked– Hyunjae had burrowed his head in his arms, soft cries muffled by the christmas sweater he was wearing. Chanhee looked on in shock, debating on whether or not he should provide physical comfort. He felt the familiar sensation of prickling tears as he gently placed tender hands on Hyunjae’s soft hair.

“Hyunjae. It's okay. I’m here now. I may not have many people here, but I have you. You’re here, and I will be home for as long as you need me to be.”

Chanhee feared the response– he was afraid his words were too loving, too obvious. Hyunjae sniffled and let out a small laugh.

“Your hands are nice and warm,” he said, grasping Chanhee’s palms and placing them on his cheek. He looked up, eyes red and puffy. 

Chanhee was thrown off by the softness– the longing desire to put his hands on Hyunjae began bubbling at the surface of his mind. He swiped his thumb to get rid of the tears that plagued the single father. He offered a smile, hoping it would provide more warmth. Despite the years of no contact, it was a miracle to easily find such comfort in one another.

“I’ve missed you,” Hyunjae whispered.

“I’ve missed you just as much…you’ll never know. You’ll… you’ll never know, ” were the only words he allowed himself to say. Maybe just maybe, Hyunjae would catch on. 

Their velvety moment was rudely interrupted by the familiar jingle of bells above the shop door. Eric was ushering Keiko in, both their puffer jackets decorated with bouts of melted show. Keiko’s ice cream was still frozen solid, courtesy of the sudden storm.

“She’s crazy for wanting ice cream in this weather,” Eric shivered, taking off Keiko’s jacket and hanging it up. He was happy to find his favorite cat jumping upon his shoulder, incessantly meowing.

Chanhee had yanked his hand away from Hyunjae’s cheeks, already missing the feeling of his soft skin.

“Well. You two look nice and cozy.”

The two men blushed, choosing to ignore Eric’s statement.

“You know, the town’s waiting for you to greet them, Chan. They’re mad you never left so much as a voice message. Just disappeared on all of us, you rascal.”

“I’m sorry…maybe it's best I hide out. They probably hate me, anyway.”

“He’s a career man, let him be,” Hyunjae had forcefully dried his tears.

“No one hates you. You were the town sweetheart…the wonderful Choi Chanhee. You haven’t changed– in fact, you’ve gotten even quieter than you were before. How does that happen?”

Chanhee giggled. Though loud, Eric’s presence was incredibly soothing. After the tumultuous few months, he felt a small sense of homeliness. Keiko had wandered over to plop down on her father’s lap, licking away at her ice cream. She giggled as a gray cat gently pawed at her feet.

“Maybe I should have never left.”

“No! Absolutely not. One of us had to make it out. I’m glad it was you,” Hyunjae remarked, petting Keiko’s hair.

“You act as if this town is your personal prison.”

“With all the farming going on…it is! If I have to seed one more crop in the valley I’m going to lose my mind.”

Chanhee finally felt okay to laugh– enjoying the presence of the three. He found himself twiddling his thumbs after finishing his hot chocolate. 

“Chan…” Keiko’s voice was quiet.

“Oop! She knows your name now. This is uncle Chan, Keiko.”

Uncle. The word lingered in the air, barely giving Chanhee enough time to process it. He felt warm and tingly inside; he smiled widely at the little girl.

“Uncle Chan!” Her voice was a bit louder.

Chanhee only grinned, reaching over to pet her hair. Keiko giggled.

“It's nice to have one more friendly face around. Will you stay for a while?” Hyunjae’s voice was brimming with hope. He stared on, his eyes glistening with residual tears.

“I’ll stay.”

“You can stay with me– if you need to. Eric can get annoying.”

“Uncle Chan will stay with us?” Keiko sounded excited. Her father looked towards Chanhee.

“Will you?”

“I think I will.”

The air felt snug and homey– Chanhee wanted to bask in it for as long as he lived.

🐈

“Eric. You did what???” Hyunjae’s voice was loud and panicked– he had flour dotted around his eyes, lips, and nose. It was morning– Chanhee was still sleeping in the guest bedroom on the second floor of the shop and Keiko had just left for school. The pastries were burning and the stove was red hot with an attempted breakfast (though a skilled baker, Hyunjae could never so much as cook an egg).

“I signed you up for the town’s annual Christmas baking competition.”

“Why on god’s earth would you do that?!”

“Because! You’ve wanted to join it for years!”

“Yes! With a partner! Eric, you need a partner!”

Eric threw his hands up in defense, struggling to hold in a boisterous laugh.

“I considered that much, yes. That’s why Chanhee is your partner.”

“WHAT.”

Eric let go of his laugh, completely avoiding his friend’s concern.

“Oh shush, it's a good way for you two to catch up. Chanhee wouldn’t mind– plus, Keiko’s been bugging you for a year now to sign up. She thinks your cupcake recipe would win the hearts of every senior citizen in this godforsaken town. Why don’t you give it a try?”

Hyunjae completely abandoned his burning bacon and simply held his head in his hands. He swiftly switched off the stove and sat down, entirely defeated. 

“You are truly an asshole.”

“Am not! I want you to have fun for once! Chanhee is sad, you’re sad– two plus two equals four. Be each other’s muse again, yeah?”

“Oh god, why do you have to put it that way?”

Eric only laughed, once again sending Hyunjae into a gentle rage. Before he could respond, however, the rustling of slippers caused his head to snap in the direction of the hallway. Chanhee’s hair was tousled in all directions and he wore a matching set of Hello Kitty pajamas. Shocked, Hyunjae saw the words how cute flash across his mind. The thought surprised him and he quickly shook it off.

“Well good morning princess. Loving the fit. When did you become a Sanrio boy?” Eric was full of energy despite the frosted morning.

Embarrassed, Chanhee only looked down towards his feet. He hadn’t expected everyone to be up at the rise of dawn. 

“Shut up, Eric. Chanhee– I think it's cute. It fits your…your…your softness…I think.”

Chanhee felt his cheeks burn up in a flash, immediately waking him out of his drowsy stupor. He rubbed his eyes and inwardly cringed as the smells of burnt bread and bacon filled his nostrils. 

“Oh god. Don’t pay attention to that…Eric distracted me.”

“Don’t blame your shitty cooking skills on me! You might wanna pay attention to your oven when you’re in that contest!” Eric said, watching in amusement as Hyunjae desperately scraped the burnt meat off his charred pan. 

“Contest? Ah Hyunjae– let me help you,” Chanhee rushed over, taking over the spatula and gently brushing Hyunjae’s shoulder. The father couldn’t help but notice the heat radiating off his sleepy body– the toastiness causing goosebumps to rise upon his skin. He once again shook away the feeling and let Chanhee take care of the situation.

“I got pretty good at cooking on my own when I was in the city. It was cheaper and easier. Maybe I can make you dinner tonight, if you don’t mind,” his smile was intoxicating and endlessly admirable. Hyunjae wanted to squish his cheeks (like he’d always done when they were younger).

“I will bake you as many cakes as you want if you do that.”

“You don’t have to do anything for me in return.”

“Enough of your rekindled sappy friendship! Chanhee– you’ve got a new job.”

The two men had nearly forgotten about Eric’s presence in the shop. Chanhee looked towards Hyunjae with confusion in his eyes, forgetting about the vigorous scrub treatment he’d been giving the blackened pan.

“Don’t tell him–”

“I signed you both up for the town’s Christmas baking competition. As partners.”

It was silent– only the wind against the shop windows could be heard, along with the soft jingles of each cat roaming the cafe. Chanhee felt as if he could crawl back into the warm covers and scream into his hands until they were wet with tears. He couldn’t tell if they’d be tears of happiness or distraught. Nevertheless, he questioned the single father.

“A…baking contest? Hyun…jae?”

Hyunjae sighed. He too, wanted to crawl into the safety of his own bed.

“I’m so sorry. His irrational decisions are too much sometimes. We don’t have to do it– we can pull out of it. We could–”

“No. I’d love to.”

Hyunjae shot up, a cloud of flour propelling down his nose. Giggling, Chanhee used the back of his warmed hands to wipe away the remaining powder. Hyunjae stood in shock.

“You’d really want to join it with me?”

“Why not? It would be fun. Plus, I’m sure Keiko would have a wonderful time helping us.”

“Chanhee…truly…you are a saint.”

“No saint. Just a city boy waiting to fulfill his duty in this small town, I suppose.”

Hyunjae gave a titled smile and pulled his best friend into a hug. Chanhee reciprocated, only hoping that Hyunjae couldn’t feel the pitter-patters of his heart, thumping like happy rabbits at the sight of the single father. Hyunjae finally brought himself to pinch Chanhee’s cheeks in a way that reminded them of their time as children. Chanhee leaned into it, smiling softly. The physical touch was oddly familiar— the feeling settled like a calm melody between them. Despite the frigid temperature, everything felt summery.

“You really haven’t changed, my Choi Chanhee.”

🐈

“Goodness. Hyunjae? I think I messed it up again.”

Chanhee’s hands were a mess– his shoes were white with flour, his apron was decorated with different colored frosting, his hair was sticky, and Keiko was sitting on the floor, trying her best to pick up the crumbs of burnt cookies. 

Chanhee felt like a true failure. Though he could cook, he could never bake. He thought about forcing Eric to take his place as Hyunjae’s esteemed partner. Surely, the jovial man must have learned something from living with the father all those years.

“Oh Chan…what have you done to my kitchen?” Hyunjae giggled, rushing over to scoop his daughter from the floor and promptly wash her hands.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be! I was gone for too long. Didn’t mean to leave you to your own devices. I don’t know what you were trying to bake but I appreciate the effort.”

“I was trying to follow a spritz cookie recipe…I think I should stick to letting you take the lead,” he said defeated, looking sadly at his hardened ball of dough. It was already dried out completely.

“Don’t be dejected. It takes time. Baking is a science, you know,” Hyunjae said, making his way over to a disheveled Chanhee. He took one look at him before brushing leftover frosting off his cheeks, wiping away all the flour and vanilla extract. Chanhee avoided eye contact at all costs, refocusing his attention to the mound of dough in front of him. He kneaded it as best as he could– his soft hands doing little work.

“Spritz dough is meant to be dry. You’re not too far off,” Hyunjae said, suddenly leaning over the quiet boy, his breath ghosting upon tired shoulders.

“Let me help you.”

Chanhee’s heart skipped a million beats as his crush softly wrapped his own fingers around Chanhee’s, gently guiding the push and pull movements. Opposite to Chanhee’s, Hyunjae’s palms were calloused and full of experience. His hands weren’t for baking alone– Chanhee had seen him chopping wood beforehand and knew that he plowed the fields during the seasons. Besides, he’d always been the town’s jack of all trades.

“Like this. If it's too crumbly– use more shortening. If it feels like you’re doing it wrong, then you’re probably doing it right. I don’t know why you would choose this recipe, of all things. It's the hardest to start with,” his hands were still firm on Chanhee’s, showing no signs of letting go.

Chanhee allowed himself to gently lean against Hyunjae, feeling his heartbeat drum in calm fashion– not bothered by the close proximity. Chanhee’s own heartbeat failed to keep quiet, racing against his chest and suffocating his thoughts. He figured that their physical skinship was mutually comfortable– Hyunjae had given no indication that he was uncomfortable with their bodies as close as they were when they were younger. The familiarity filled him with joy and tranquility. He reveled in the serene atmosphere.

“See? Not bad. You’ve never had trouble picking things up, my Chanhee.”

My Chanhee. Why did everyone keep calling him that?

“Your hands are so rough,” was all he could muster, feeling himself melt into the touch. Hyunjae’s head rested upon his shoulder, the weight providing some sort of antidote to his anxiety. 

“They’ve always been like this. You know that a farmer’s hands are full of history, right.”

Chanhee only hummed in response, getting used to the kneading. He knew that the dough no longer needed tending to– but neither of them seemed to mind that.

“Your hands are so soft. I guess that would make sense for an air traffic controller. I can imagine you sitting in front of 5 monitor screens and wearing headphones– how cute.”

“I’m not cute. I rarely ever got any sleep when I was working. I think I’d rather go back in time and help my grandmother take care of the garden.”

“Of course you’re cute. You’ve always been cute. The town’s sweetheart.”

“Please stop calling me that. I don’t think anyone likes me.”

“Chanhee.”

Hyunjae grasped Chanhee’s waist and whipped him around, their faces inches apart. His expression was pained– the dough was ready and Keiko had begun to doze off in the corner, two cats snuggled up against her.

“Chanhee. You are still loved here. Stop saying those things, please,” he pleaded, placing one hand on Chanhee’s frosting-dusted cheek. Chanhee mewled in the feeling of roughness, wondering where else his hands had worked tirelessly. He covered them with his own, soft and smooth fingers.

“Thank you,” he whispered, leaning into the touch. For a second, Chanhee could have sworn that Hyunjae’s eyes dipped down to his lips, shooting back up as soon as they had landed there. Hyunjae’s weathered features were so prominent– Chan could read the aging he had done in only seven years, the stress of fatherhood and business seeping into his skin. There was something so alluring about it, something so worth saluting.

“Chanhee…I…” Hyunjae whispered back, finding himself leaning in to close the space. Their lips ghosted each other for a few seconds, coming entirely too close to sealing the gap.

“Dad?” Keiko’s voice knocked the two of them out of it, Hyunjae slamming his back into the wall behind them. The rush of their near kiss made Chanhee want to throw up– but in a good way. He swiftly turned back around, pretending to care about his dough. 

“What’s wrong baby girl?” 

“I’m tired. Can I take nap?”

“Ah– of course. Chan? I’ll be right back,” Hyunjae said, scooping up his daughter and taking her upstairs. She gave a little wave to a still jittery Chanhee. He provided a weak smile in return.

He clutched his chest, wishing desperately for the violent thumps to simmer down. There was no way Hyunjae was about to kiss him– Hyunjae wasn’t even into men…or was he? He flung off his apron, diving to his phone in order to tell Kevin about his little escapade. He wasn’t imagining things– his childhood crush was definitely ready to lock lips. He did notice the little things– when he arrived, Hyunjae had been keen on physical touch. He was nicer than he was years ago, the teasing had stopped entirely and there was no longer anger stored in his heart. Maybe, just maybe, some of his feelings might have been reciprocated.

Hyunjae didn’t come down for the hours after, leaving Chanhee to wallow in his own thoughts while attempting a myriad of difficult recipes. Kevin was losing his mind over the phone, asking for the details and consistent updates. He missed his roommate tenfold– but he was starting to enjoy his stay. He made a promise to himself that he would push aside his fears and confront Hyunjae. He was used to rejection, anyway.

There were no noises upstairs– indicating that the two had likely both fallen asleep. Eric was at work tending to the winter crops and snickering at the bond he’d forced upon the two.

Chanhee sighed deeply, turning the oven on to 350 degrees.

🐈

“You’re getting so much better, my Chanhee.”

It had been two weeks, and the three of them had been baking nonstop, testing recipes that could possibly place in the competition. They had to beat the all-time winners, the lovely old ladies that gave Chanhee baskets of harvested crops every time he went downtown. He was so heartwarmed to find that the locals still took to him kindly, despite never visiting for all the time he was gone.

But of course– there was still another problem. He hadn’t spoken to Hyunjae about their fateful encounter— it had been totally ignored as if nothing delicate ever took place between them. In fact, the two seemed to have gotten closer, their bond becoming more and more routine. Even Keiko had noticed, giggling when her father ruffled Chanhee’s hair or laid his head upon his lap while Chanhee read by the fireplace. Eric relentlessly teased them of course, sending winks to Chanhee that said I know you know.

It was delightful, of course. But everything felt so strange– he hadn’t felt the cordial touches of a man in quite a long while. He had forgotten how touch starved he must have been, suddenly craving the coarse and scarred hands upon his own, untouched and manicured ones. Even if it was platonic, he still enjoyed the great comfort it brought. Lord knows he needed it.

The competition was nearing, and he debated on whether or not he should say something before it happened. Part of him was curious of the direction it was take him– and part of him knew that it had all the power to destroy the bridge they had just rebuilt. It scared him: the quietude of the life he was living, suddenly dropping everything he knew beforehand to play house with a man who he’d never believed would love him back. It shocked him: the gardening with seniors, the quiet reading, the baking, the cooking, the babysitting, the loud nights he spent laughing with Eric and Hyunjae– all of which he wanted so desperately to escape when he was eighteen. 

He was afraid of how much he loved it. He was a career man– right? He was destined to monitor the skies, to watch the city lights twinkle and the aviation obstruction beams flash upon the clouds. He was destined for graveyard shifts and drinking with Kevin Moon at egregious hours of the day, barely having time to love himself. He was made for that…right?

Chanhee watched his lemon cake bake in the oven, Keiko by his side, leaning onto his legs. Hyunjae was sitting at one of the tables skimming a recipe book that was passed down through generations. His eyes were furrowed in concentration and it took everything in Chanhee not to pry his gaze away from the oven and instead focus them on the reading man.

“Cupcakes next? Uncle Chan? What are we doing next? Should we make cookies for the competition? Daddy? What are we making?” She had more energy than the two of them combined. 

Eric was coming home early that day– they were to have an early Christmas celebration with the cats, bringing them new and fresh toys to play with. The holiday was only a week away– the competition on Christmas Eve. Despite that, the three had not yet decided what they would be submitting as their prized treat.

They had experimented on all kinds of things: fruity cakes, plant-based macarons, colorful tiramisu, spice-flavored cookies, etc, etc. Nothing seemed to be perfect yet; the boys carefully constructed each recipe, grueling over hours of concentration and decoration. Despite the calloused pads, Hyunjae’s decoration skills were beyond elegant– he was an artist, perfecting the swirls and dusting the flowers with shades of purple and pink ombres. Chanhee could only watch in awe– even noticing his daughter’s natural knack for the same talent.

Dinner that night was served by Chanhee– he’d baked a cornish game hen that Eric had shot during hunting season. He made all kinds of sides (with his little helper, of course): mashed potatoes, garlic green beans, mac n’cheese, and lemonade. It was the least he could do for the two men that cared for him.

The fire was roaring by the time they had finished dinner, little Keiko curled up at her uncle’s chest. Eric was slightly tipsy, nearly falling asleep along with his niece– they were parked right next to the fireplace. Their stomachs were heavy with a warm meal and Chanhee was listening to the clashes of plates as Hyunjae cleaned the kitchen. He was a bit chilled, sitting on an armchair while cozily reading his romance novel. The siamese he’d first met when he arrived was nestled in between the side of the chair and his body. He was enjoying the soft pets, purring loudly.

The day had been long and tiring. They had baked for hours, poor Keiko’s stomach ached from trying so many different kinds of treats. They could have simply chosen the bestseller off Hyunjae’s menu– the Chai cupcakes with a lightly sweetened cinnamon-based frosting. Or perhaps his rose-flavored macarons and the delectable pistachio ice cream cakes. But Hyunjae’s competitive spirit took over, and Chanhee didn’t mind the hours spent in the kitchen together. 

“Uncle Eric? I ate too much. My tummy has ached all day,” Keiko’s voice was drowsy. Eric’s eyes fluttered open and he smiled, pulling his niece in for a hug.

“It's past your bedtime. You know what that means? The monsters from the cornfields are gonna come after you if you don’t go to bed right now,” he joked as her eyes widened. She sighed and arose, stretching her adolescent limbs to the ceiling.

“Goodnight daddy, goodnight uncle Chan,” she whispered, allowing her uncle to march her upstairs. He came down a few minutes later, bidding the two farewells and thanking Chanhee for the delicious meal (he had work at 5 am the next day). By that point, Chanhee had started to doze off as well.

“Long day, huh?” Hyunjae said, sitting on the couch next to Chanhee, holding two steaming cups of chamomile tea. He swiftly closed his book.

“Drink up. It will help you sleep.”

“I don’t think I need any help sleeping tonight,” Chanhee giggled, his laughs morphing into a deep yawn.

“You yawn like my cats. How cute.”

“I am a grown twenty five-year old man.”

“Objectively.”

The two shared a hearty laugh before the room became silent, the fire crackling loudly. Without thinking, Chanhee stood up from his chair and sat down right next to Hyunjae, feeling a quick burst of bravery. He turned to face him, a smile teetering on his lips.

“I’m ready for more days of baking.”

“You need to sleep soon, Chan. Your eyes are heavy and you didn’t even have a lick of liquor.”

“We can talk. I want to talk.”

Hyunjae raised an eyebrow. He laid his head back against the couch, staring Chanhee down.

“About…anything. Or about…”

“About?”

“It's nothing, actually,” Chan dodged the question, looking down at his feet and debating on whether or not he should immediately exit the situation he had put himself in. He felt Hyunjae’s hand on his, jolting him awake.

“No. Tell me, Chan. What is it? You can tell me anything, you know. You know I’d never invalidate your feelings,” his tone was soft and loving; Chanhee wanted to hear his voice for as long as he stayed with him.

“Jae…the other night…a few weeks ago…you…we…”

“I’m sorry . It won’t happen again,” he interrupted, panic immediately settling in his voice.

“No need to apologize. I just…wondered. What did that mean? Why were you…why were you leaning in? Did you actually…did you actually want to…” his words trailed off, silently waiting for the sentence to be completed.

Hyunjae twiddled his thumbs as he let out a huge sigh. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“Yes. Yes, I wanted to.”

Chanhee’s heart halted at the confirmation, his breath hitched within his throat. There was no way.

“Jae…?”

“Listen, Chanhee. I need to come clean about something.”

“I’m always listening.”

“When Seiko died…I was lost, truly. I loved her more than anything in the world and I still do– I always will. But I was young when I fell in love. I didn’t give myself the chance to explore the world as you did. I never gave myself the chance to figure anything else out. My life had one direction, and in that direction it went.”

Chanhee listened intently, now sitting criss-crossed in front of Hyunjae. He was enthralled– curious, nosy.

“What I’m trying to say is…I figured out somewhere along the way that my heart didn’t only yearn for women. I…I knew I was queer in some way but I always pushed away the feelings. I always kind of suspected there was something…something in the way that you looked at me.”

Chanhee froze, his eyes widening. Oh no. He had known all along.

“You…knew?”

“I didn’t know for certain, but it was the way you were so determined to not speak to me for years. You were bitter– you always looked on from a distance. I know you never had anything against my wife– I know you liked her just as much as I did. But you never left my side. I’m sorry it took me so long to come around.”

“Hyunjae…nothing is your fault. It never was. You loved who you loved, and I was happy to just be there– to just be your friend. And even if there was no one standing beside you, I knew it was never going to be me. And that was okay, it's still okay.”

“Chan…” Hyunjae’s eyes had begun to tear up– looking onwards with emotions brimming with regret, sadness, and solitude. 

“Chanhee. It wasn’t until you came back to town did I realize…that I am allowed to love again. I don’t have to wallow in my widower life-hood and sulk until the day I die– it wouldn’t be fair to my daughter. Seiko wouldn’t want that– she would want me to move on and be happy. She told me that before she passed. And if I was her, I’d want the same thing, too.”

Chanhee’s eyes pricked and he reached out to grasp Hyunjae’s hand, the sudden warmth sending shivers down his body. He used his spare hand to brush away the tears that were carelessly falling, encased with years of desolation and hardwork. He wiped them until they were all gone.

“Hyunjae. She would love to see you love again.”

“Then Chan?”

“Hm?”

“Am I allowed to love you?”

Chanhee was surprised, once again. He could now feel the thumping from Hyunjae’s chest.

“You want to love me?” His voice was small, weak.

“Your presence is so warm. You are so calm, so sweet, and content– despite the downfalls you’ve had. There is no hatred in your heart. My daughter loves you and so does Eric– hell, the entire town is just glad you’re back. Even your aunt and uncle want to see you back in their homes.”

“Oh, Hyunjae.” It was Chanhee’s turn to burst into tears. He covered his face with his hands, trying with all his might to quiet down his sobs. Hyunjae’s arms came as an instinct, wrapping them around Chanhee’s shivering body. He held him until the cries softened into sniffles.

“I’ve loved you for years. Even if we ended platonically– I would love you until I found you in each lifetime, coming home to whatever small town that raised us.”

“I can start now. We can start now,” Hyunjae said, pressing a gentle kiss to Chanhee’s forehead. 

The fire had finally begun to burn out.

🐈

“Daddy, we have to win. I wanna tell all the girls at school,” Keiko said, her excitement levels at a maximum capacity. She was dressed in an oversized apron that boasted the shop’s name complete with Eric at her side, dressed in an equally colorful apron. 

It was Christmas Eve and the town was huddled in the community center, away from the harsh storm that ripped through the brick buildings and the local parks. The competition was originally to be held outside as it was every year– however, the weather had become increasingly unpredictable. There was a pleasant feeling amongst the crowd; something about the gathering made Chanhee feel as if he was safe and secure (and could never be bothered by blinding metropolis lights again). 

Though warm and cozy, the event had already proved itself to be a mess. The community center’s Christmas tree had toppled down (courtesy of a few loose dogs), and Eric had accidentally spilled an entire plate of gingersnap cookies. Hyunjae’s nerves were heightened. But somehow, Chanhee had never felt so at home.

He enjoyed watching his crush stumble around the center, rushing here and there to check on his sweet bread and biscuits– waiting for them to turn a perfect golden brown that he could glaze over with warm caramel. He wore the same colorful apron with flour dotting his hair and stickiness prevalent between all of his fingers. Chanhee could only giggle at the sight of Hyunjae jumping around his inquisitive and impatient daughter, swiftly adding decor to each macaron. He had tripped nearly three or four times– Chanhee had lost count.

“We’ll win baby we’ll– ow – we’ll win!” 

Chanhee giggled as he rushed over to stop a teetering Hyunjae from falling onto the wooden ground. Hyunjae only signed into Chan’s shoulder, leaving traces of frosting on his brand new apron. 

“This is the most stressful event I’ve ever had the pleasure of participating in.”

“Oh, not including your daughter’s birth?”

“Believe me, that day was the happiest day of my life. Today I am ready to climb out of the ring and make you and Eric do all the presenting.”

Chanhee shook off the excess flour from Hyunjae’s hair and tsk-tsked him. Despite the thorough set-up that they had worked all night for the event, things still didn’t feel quite in place. Keiko had chosen the ultimate dessert that would be officially entered into the competition (all from the flavor profile she had specifically chosen): a unique shortbread cookie with honey lavender buttercream frosting. Hyunjae had never in a million years heard of a combo like that– but alas, he valued his daughter’s judgment over anyone else’s (besides, Eric and Chanhee both agreed that it was as delicious as it sounded).

They had spent the last week perfecting the recipe, alongside working out the kinks of their strange newfound relationship. It was so new to Hyunjae: loving a man who barely said words unless spoken to and who jumped at every opportunity to help those in need. Though he was no stranger to healthy love, Chanhee was a new beginning he never believed would emerge from the depths of melancholy and despair. 

They hadn’t talked much about that night– there was simply a quiet understanding that ran through the both of them, bringing them closer and closer at every shoulder brush and every cheek kiss. A few times, Eric had giggled to Keiko when he found the two huddled together near the fire after dozing off to Ghibli movies. Or when they found themselves throwing tufts of rice flour at one another, lost in a world of Christmas movies and happy endings.

The crestfallen Chanhee had healed into something better: a man with new purposes and a new family to come home to. He didn’t miss the city (but he missed Kevin), didn’t miss the hot nights, didn’t miss the graveyard shifts, and he didn’t miss the lack of social life. He had long forgotten about the lackluster darkness and bleak skies that radiated with noise pollution and smog. All he could see were the fresh snow footprints left by friendly kittens and jovial snowball fights between a father and his beloved daughter. Even the uncle, who always brought something home without forgetting a single soul.

His daydreaming was cut short when the town mayor’s voice began announcing their annual Christmas baking competition. Eric hushed Keiko as Hyunjae made his way to Chan in a panicked state, gripping onto his wrist for support.

“Goodness Hyunjae, it's a baking competition against everyone you’ve ever known. Gordon Ramsey is not here to roast your shortbread.”

“I know…but everything here, it's for Keiko.”

Chanhee hummed in response, redirecting his attention to the front of the center. There was a single, long table with bouts of treats displayed upon it. Cupcakes, cakes, macarons, macaroons, cheesecakes, tarts, custards, puddings, azuki pancakes, etc. Hyunjae’s cookies sat at the very far right, boasting loud purple swirls and black sesame sprinkled upon them (Chanhee had no idea that Eric could apply frosting so perfectly). He was proud, to say the least.

Keiko stood between the two men, barely able to contain her excitement as she impatiently waited for the judges to begin tasting each and every confectionary. They were up against twenty other treats– Hyunjae would have been happy to just place at all. He had tasted most of the treats on the table, anyway– they were all things he’d grown up eating at his neighbors’ houses (he was one of the youngest to compete). He knew that all of them would give him a run for his money.

Nerves were high between the four of them as they watched the judges painstakingly go through each and every treat, Chanhee wondering how all of them didn’t get incredibly sick from the amount of pure sugar consumed. Their faces were horrifyingly transparent, never hiding when they clearly disliked something. Chanhee noticed Hyunjae holding his breath when one of the older judges carefully picked up their cookie, inspected it, read the flavor palette, and gingerly put it in her mouth. A small smile played on her lips and Keiko looked up, eyes wide.

“I think she liked it,” Chan whispered, immediately being shushed by Eric.

They watched as the rest of the three judges ate a cookie, their reactions scaring Hyunjae to all hell (even if none of them were bad at all). The judges proceeded to finish tasting the rest of the treats and headed over to their table to discuss the final placements. The mayor announced that the first, second, and third places were to be revealed after Christmas dinner was served. Hyunjae let out a sigh of relief.

“Well, aren’t you dramatic?” Chan laughed, working to clean up their messy area as Keiko ran off to get her plate of food. Eric went with her.

“I don’t know why this is so scary. Chan, why is it so scary?”

“You’ve always had a competitive soul. It doesn’t matter if we place or not, your daughter is still elated that we competed this year.”

“I want to win for her,” Hyunjae said, peeling off his dirtied apron. Chanhee smiled and ran his hands through Hyunjae’s messy and slightly sticky hair.

“I know. If we don’t win this one, we’ll win next year.”

Hyunjae’s head shot up. 

“N-next year? You’re planning on being here next year?”

“Why not? You haven’t asked me to leave yet,” Chanhee offered a comforting smile. Hyunjae's cheeks turned pink as he gently grasped Chanhee’s hands.

“Careful, I might actually not ask you to leave.”

“Careful, I might actually stay for good.”

The two only giggled, inching closer together as they headed over to get their dinner. Chanhee had been half serious– he wanted to stay, but he contemplated what that would mean for his professional career. However, he didn’t know how much he still cared about that part. He was happy to be within the community, celebrating and eating with people he had forgotten he loved so much. Hyunjae tried his best to keep his daughter from jumping around to different tables, asking the residents if they had tried her father’s famous macarons. Eric didn’t help much as he was just as energetic as her.

They had finished eating and tidying up their workspace when the mayor’s voice once again fed through the microphone. The judges had taken an hour and a half to decide which treats would win the three places– the first place receiving a higher sum of money than the other two. Hyunjae felt nervous again, holding his daughter’s hands for support while Eric and Chanhee simply laughed at him.

“In third place…the strawberry-matcha pancakes…” the mayor said slowly, his eyes trained on the list before him. Hyunjae nearly squeaked as his dessert was not called, giving hope that he could either be first or second.

“In second place…ah, my favorite! From our beloved cat cafe…the honey lavender and black sesame cookies!”

Hyunjae, Keiko, Eric, and Chanhee’s screams were nearly deafening as they celebrated their humble placing. Hyunjae sent his daughter to receive their prize from the front of the room, earning a round of cheers from the community members. She skipped back to their table with a small trophy and an envelope of prize money. 

“I told you daddy!” She said, receiving a million hugs from both him and her uncle. She even hopped into Chanhee’s arms, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

“Thank you for helping daddy and uncle Eric. I hope you stay longer,” she smiled, putting the trophy in Chan’s hand.

It took everything in him not to tear up, instead looking to the single father for support. Hyunjae only beamed, pulling Chan in for a large hug (in which Eric piled onto, then Keiko). They stayed like that for a few moments before celebrating the first place (the oreo cheesecake) and mingling with the rest of the competing bakers. 

The night was dark and snowy when the event had ended, the residents instead pouring out to the downtown streets where Christmas lights decorated every inch. The cold didn’t seem to bother anyone– the lights from the massive centerpiece Christmas tree were bright enough to warm the whole town. Chanhee had put on a huge insulated jacket that Hyunjae had leant to him (and it smelled like him, too). They had walked through the entire town, admiring the light shows and the shops all adorned with colors of green, gold, and red. Keiko was in between them, holding their hands as Eric only pouted.

“Tell me, Chan. Do the lights over here beat the ones in Los Angeles?”

“By tenfold,” He responded, swinging Keiko’s arms around as she giggled.

“Seven years ago you would have said the direct opposite.”

“You’re probably right.”

Eric only rolled his eyes as he suddenly jumped in front of them, scooping up Keiko in a hurry. The two men looked at each other in confusion.

“What is it?” Hyunjae asked.

“I’m going to take Keiko for hot chocolate. So you guys can…you know…talk. Your daddy needs to talk to Chan for a little bit, Keiko, is that okay?”

She only shot her hands up in excitement. Nothing could beat hanging out with her exuberant uncle, anyway. Chanhee felt the slight panic settle into his chest as he watched Eric scurry away with Keiko, laughing loudly. Hyunjae seemed to share the same sentiment, his nerves running a million miles an hour. The two were silent for a moment, finding the right words to say as they shivered in the temperature. 

“Are you finally convinced that I’m glad you’re here?” Hyunjae started, his breath forming numerous clouds in the air. Chanhee could feel his heart race through the thick jacket. He gulped.

“I think I finally am. You’re the reason, of course.”

“Am I?” Hyunjae smirked.

“And Keiko…and Eric…of course.”

“Thank god my daughter loves you. Trust me, she warms up to other people slowly. But you, she immediately loved you. Even my most fussy cats loved you immediately. I’ve always trusted cats more than humans. I think they were onto something.”

“Jeez, am I just that nonthreatening?” Chanhee joked, his hands brushing dangerously close to Hyunjae’s.

“Maybe it's because you’re somewhat like a cat, too.”

Chanhee couldn’t contain his laughter.

“What on earth does that mean?”

“My Chanhee is so quiet, so patient, so gentle, so soft…so loving. Everyone loves you. Sometimes it really blows my mind how much you don’t realize that. You always said that everyone wouldn’t miss you when you left…but everyone did.”

Chanhee stopped in his tracks, facing Hyunjae instead. His bangs were barely covering his face as he made direct eye contact with his crush.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I should have never left you alone. I should have reached out after I left…I should have called. It hurts knowing how much of you I don’t know anymore…and how much I wish I knew.”

Hyunjae sighed, brushing Chanhee’s bangs out of his face. His gloves were chilled but Chan didn’t mind the contact. Their silent breaths were frozen in the frigid lights, waiting for more words of love to unfurl.

“But you’re here now, aren’t you? And how cruel would it be if you left now. What if I asked you to stay here for good? With me. Would you do it, Chanhee?”

Chan’s tears may have frozen that second if Hyunjae didn’t swiftly wipe them away. When he was younger, the fast cars and restless nights of large cities were the only thing he dreamt of. However, he couldn’t help but confront the fact that all he suddenly desired were the quiet days of a humble town– boasting fresh crops, loud cattle, and friendly neighbors. He craved the presence of a familiar boy, one with his daughter and vibrant best friend. His dreams had changed– and he had finally become okay with it.

“For all the years I’ve loved you, I never thought you would ask me these things. If I had known I could live a simple lifetime with you, Eric, and Keiko, I would have come home sooner.”

“Really? You wouldn’t mind it? Because I’ve been thinking about it…Seiko told me to love. And I want to love again. She always told me I should have reached out to you sooner. It's not just your fault, Chanhee. We both failed our friendship. I’m sorry, too.”

Hyunjae slid his gloves off and gently laced his fingers between Chanhee’s, squeezing as tight as he possibly could. His tears were falling freely at that point, and he could only wish that the holiday festivities would last just a few hours longer.

“I’ve always loved you Chanhee. Even if it was friendly up until this point, it was always there. But from this day forward, I want to love you for real. I want to bake with you, run a cafe with you, raise Keiko with you, kiss you, hug you, make you feel special…all of those things. Would you let me?”

“A life with a farm boy…my farm boy. My Hyunjae. It's all I ever wanted.”

Their kiss was crisp– both their lips were blued and icy cold. But the feeling was melting, it was charged with weeks of playful flirting, quiet pining, acts of service, and stolen embraces. It was everything that Chanhee would have never found if he stayed in his apartment back in the city. It was made of the things he dreamt of as a child, and could never seem to grasp. 

They continued to kiss under the searing lights of the tree, oblivious to the small bouts of people walking around them and admiring the holiday spirit of the tranquil town. Hyunjae pulled away to rest his head against Chan’s, still staring at his warmed and swollen lips.

“I love you,” Chan said it first.

“If it's possible, I might love you more,” was the only response. Chanhee leaned in for another kiss, not caring if Hyunjae could taste his tears. 

“Get a room you two!” Eric’s voice had interrupted the silence– Keiko was sitting on his shoulders with dried chocolate along the edges of her mouth. She was happily snickering. 

“Does this mean I have two daddies now?” She asked, causing Chan’s eyes to widen in embarrassment. He covered them with his frosted hands as Hyunjae only laughed, pulling him against his chest.

“It might!” 

Eric playfully slapped Hyunjae’s back as the three of them headed back to the shop. The cats were sleeping soundly in the heated cafe, enjoying the sounds of Christmas music that could be heard from beyond the glass. Some wore little sweaters and hats, woven together by the senior citizens from the 50+ center. The little siamese was the only one up, bolting to Chanhee (as he always did).  Chan gave him a few kisses before giving Keiko and Hyunjae some as well.

“How about I put on a Hallmark movie?” Eric asked, switching on the tv. 

“Will I get to stay up?” Keiko asked in excitement, looking up at her father in hope.

“Of course. We can’t watch movies without you, can we?”

She cheered and hugged her father, immediately rushing to put on pajamas in a flash. Hyunjae looked towards Chan with a smile.

“I hate Hallmark movies.”

“You’re about to love them,” Chanhee joked, dragging Hyunjae to the couch to join an excited Eric.

“I’ll make some popcorn for us,” Eric winked, hopping up to prepare a tray of snacks. Hyunjae took the opportunity to grasp onto Chan’s hand, giving it a good squeeze. He lifted it to his lips and pressed a long, loving kiss.

“Do you want to cuddle tonight? It is a business offer– there’s going to be an angry storm and I swear it will be warmer if we’re together.”

Chanhee rolled his eyes, returning the hand kiss.

“I’m sure it will be. Count me in.”

The two stole a quick kiss before Eric could return with the snacks.

“I saw that. But I’m glad you two finally worked things out. I was going to go crazy if you didn’t end up a couple by Christmas.”

“A couple?” Chan asked inquisitively.

“Do you not want to be my boyfriend?” Hyunjae asked, his eyes confused.

“Of course I do. So it's official? I get to be your temporary shop-husband?”

“Temporary?” Eric snorted.

“If you’re not here permanently, how are we going to win the next baking competition?”

“Solid point.”

Eric rolled his eyes as Keiko came rushing back into the room, wearing a Kuromi nightgown. She plopped herself directly in between the new couple, snuggling in comfortably. The shop was quiet as Eric put on a Christmas movie, happily stuffing his face with popcorn. Not even halfway through the movie Keiko had fallen asleep on Chan’s lap. He only shook his head while smiling, scooping her up as gently as he could and bringing her upstairs to tuck her in. 

Hyunjae followed before throwing a blanket on an already snoring Eric and switching off the tv as well as locking up the building. Chan quietly closed Keiko’s door before being met with a hug from his warm boyfriend.

“I’ve kidnapped you for the night.”

“Oh no! What will I ever do?”

Hyunjae pecked Chan’s lips and swiftly swooped him into a bridal-style hold. Chanhee’s eyes were wide as he looked at his boyfriend, hanging onto his neck for dear life.

“Let’s have a cozy night, my Chanhee.”

Chanhee had forgotten how nice it was to share the bed with another warm soul– the soft beating of heartbeats, the whispers of kind words, the wandering of hands, and the endless kisses underneath the blankets. He fell asleep in no time, watching the snow fall from outside the window and enjoying the soft pets from Hyunjae.

The world was no longer gloomy– he had new goals, new accomplishments, new dreams, and new people to care about. He had learned what it was like to be missed, to be loved. He had learned what it was like to find new purposes in a life that he thought was meant to be bleary and bland.

And he couldn’t wait to tell Kevin about all of it.