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Hakyeon paces steadily towards the subway station, his luggage bouncing a little too much for his liking on the uneven sidewalk as he rushes to catch his train. He had originally left his house on time, but a last minute decision to make a detour to his, and Taekwoon’s favourite café has thrown his schedule off. He hurries along – determined not to miss his train – the two cups of latte hugged against his chest a comforting heat against the chilly morning air. He smiles when he imagines Taekwoon’s delight at the sight of his offering, knowing how irritable, and listless the other usually is until he has had his morning dose of caffeine, and decides his efforts are well worth the additional stress. Even thought he hasn’t gotten the chance to taste his drink either, coupled with adrenaline, the occasional wafts of nutty aroma are sufficient enough a pick-me-up. Enveloped in the homely scent of coffee, he can’t help but feel a twinge of wistful melancholy at how this would likely be the last time they would get to taste the owner’s unique blend in the foreseeable future.
Finally setting foot in the subway station, Hakyeon pulls out his phone, and rings his boyfriend. “I’m on my way, should be there on time,” Hakyeon updates, still huffing slightly as he merges into the sea of morning commuters. Not receiving an answer, he checks to see if his line has disconnected.
After confirming that his reception is just fine, he frowns into the phone, “Woon? Taekwoon?”
There is another pause before he hears a quiet reply, “…Yea?”
Suspicious at how indifferent the other is, Hakyeon questions, “You didn’t forget did you? That we’re leaving today?”
“…No.”
Taekwoon’s answer does little to alleviate Hakyeon’s growing anxiety, and the hint of uncertainty in the former’s voice only serves to exacerbate the fear expanding in the latter’s chest.
“You’re… You’re coming right?” When met with a more pronounced silence, Hakyeon feels panic bubbling in his veins, and unconsciously tightens his grip on the handle of his bag.
“Taekwoon?”
The silence stretches on, and all Hakyeon hears are the grating scratches of his luggage’s loose wheel against the floor, and the thumping of blood behind his ears. His eyes are slightly unfocused as he trudges forward with the crowd, the bite of his jaw tight at the possibility of a negative reply.
“I’m… Not sure.”
Hakyeon stops abruptly in his tracks, causing a slew of displeased outcries as those behind move to circle around him instead.
Although a part of him is thankful that his partner’s hesitation is more ambivalent than an outright resistance, Hakyeon still feels the grip of anger in his throat. Ignoring the glares thrown his way, Hakyeon shoves past the incessant stream of people until he reaches a somewhat quieter corner of the station.
Now that he has some form of privacy, Hakyeon inhales deeply, and tries to ease the agitation biting at his heated skin.
“We’ve been through this,” he hisses.
“What about our families, Yeon?” The tired voice of his boyfriend interrupts him.
Hakyeon tries to ignore the bitter taste of betrayal materialising at the back of his tongue.
“What about us? Don’t you want a future together?” Hakyeon retorts, the fury in his voice replaced by one of hurt.
“It’s a huge risk we’re taking—”
“There’s no risk, Taekwoon!” Hakyeon exclaims in vexation.
“We’re the risk if we stay here. Everything is ready, and waiting for us—”
“We’ve been fine so far—”
“Fine?! How is hiding our relationship for the past three years fine? We’ve been living like criminals, Taekwoon. Criminals.” Hakyeon exhales sharply, the frustration he has been struggling to contain finally surfacing.
He knows he shouldn’t be lashing out at his partner when it is the system he is enraged at. Moreover, Taekwoon’s concerns are valid – Hakyeon feels the stab of guilt twisting in the pits of his gut when he remembers he is leaving his family behind. He is aware of the selfishness of their decision, but with worsening discrimination, and the increasing incidence of violence against those whom society deems as wayward, Hakyeon isn’t sure there is a future for them together if they choose to remain.
He hears the faint wisps of his boyfriend’s shallow breathing, and instantly regrets his outburst, fearing that could have been the final push that sends Taekwoon over the edge of the precipice. So, he feigns optimism, and tries again, ignoring how his cheerful tone is betrayed by the weight of weariness in his words.
“Woon, for the first time in our lives, we’ve a choice. We don’t have to pretend we’re just lifelong friends. I can hold your hand whenever I want to. We can have our own place, and when we’ve settled down we can think about having children. Two girls, and a boy, just like what you’ve always wanted, right? We can get married, Woon. Married.” Hakyeon breathes, his form shuddering slightly when he does, and awaits his partner’s reply with bated breath.
He can almost see the pensive look on Taekwoon’s face as he hears his boyfriend shift at his words, still obviously weighing his options.
“It’s the life we’ve always dreamed of, Woon,” Hakyeon presses on. The adrenaline that was pumping through his veins had long dissipated, and his limbs are heavy against the pull of his bag, and the weight of his desperation.
“We don’t have to be afraid anymore. We’ll finally be free,” Hakyeon finishes tiredly. He rests his head against the wall, and closes his eyes as he awaits the inevitable disappointment.
“Yeon, I love you. I trust you,” Taekwoon finally answers softly, the slight quiver of restrained emotions in his voice not lost on Hakyeon. “I’ll see you in an hour. Same place.”
Hakyeon sighs audibly in relief, feeling the pressure of apprehension against his chest finally evaporating. Knowing that is as close an apology as he will be receiving for now, he gathers his belongings – taking particular care not to spill their now lukewarm coffee – the hint of a smile pinching the corners as his lips as he replies, “Don’t be late.”