Archive of Our Own ^beta

Going back home was always weird. No matter how many times Kai did it, it always made him feel like a teenager again. Suddenly he was sixteen with limbs too long for his body, and stressing over exams that didn’t exist. He let out a sigh to try to settle himself internally as he dragged his suitcase into his childhood bedroom.

He could hear his sisters arguing over something petty in the next room. Some things really never changed.

He stared at the bed. It almost looked like it was going to be too small for him, even though logically he knew that couldn’t be possible. Sure, he spent a lot of time at the gym now, but he hadn’t magically grown ten inches since he got off the train. A lot of things in his childhood home looked smaller to him since he’d left and moved to Seoul.

“Oppa! Eomma wants us to go to the market.”

“That’s not what she said,” Lea replied, examining her nails primly. “She told you to go to the market.”

Bahiyyih scowled. Kai laughed to himself; Lea had the exact same scowl whenever she got caught in a lie. “Yeah, but he’s huge now. I don’t want to carry fourteen bags up the hill by myself.”

“Have fun!” Lea sing-songed, before disappearing into her and Bahiyyih’s shared room. They were far enough apart in age that Lea hadn’t cared much that she had to share with her sister for too long during their younger years. Now, whenever he came home for New Year’s Kai resigned himself to listening to their bickering through the wall late into the night.

This was no ordinary New Year’s pilgrimage, though. This time, he was here to stay– at least for a while.

“God. I can never look at that curb the same way,” Bahiyyih said, as they walked down the hill towards the single grocery store in their neighborhood. She kicked the corner with her boot for good measure. “Shame on you. Breaking Eomma’s hip like that.”

“You’re going to end up with a broken toe if you kick the curb every time you go by,” Kai pointed out.

Bahiyyih decided to kick him next.

It was childish, but that was how they always seemed to be when they were home– even though Kai was in his thirties, at this point, with Bahiyyih not far behind. Kai resisted the urge to kick her back and kept walking with his hands in his pockets. It was cold enough that his breath was fogging in front of his face. The wind was stiff in the narrow street that led from their home towards the center of town, and Bahiyyih’s scarf kept blowing around like it was trying to escape.

“Did she give you a list?” Kai asked, once they were through the sliding doors and safely cocooned by central heat and artificial lighting. Bahiyyih nodded and pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket.

“She didn’t text you a list like a normal person?”

“Kai. She’s sick, don’t be mean.”

“She broke her hip, not her fingers. Where did she even get this? It’s an H&M receipt. The nearest H&M is probably forty minutes away.”

Bahiyyih shrugged. “Unnie, probably. Actually, now that you say it, this is definitely Lea unnie’s writing and not hers.”

Kai snorted. “I bet she wrote the list on paper hoping you’d lose it, then.”

Bahiyyih didn’t take the bait, instead pulling out her phone and taking a picture of the list. She then thrust it in Kai’s direction. “I’m taking the bottom half, you take the top. See you at the front in ten.”

Kai saw anchovy paste at the top in Lea’s curvy penmanship and looked around. Bahiyyih was already gone, vanished into the throng of stooping old women and balding men. There were only one or two other people who looked to be around Kai’s age in the store, along with a bored-looking teenage girl scanning groceries at the check-out.

It hadn’t been that long since he’d last been here, but he could’ve sworn that they’d reorganized the whole store again in the time that he was gone. It took him six minutes just to find the anchovy paste, although he managed to snag the chives and pickled radish from his section of the list on the way by as well. He still had two more things to find and was frantically looking down the aisles when a familiar face caught his attention.

At least, he’d thought it was a familiar face. Now that he was looking more closely, though, he couldn’t quite place the man. He was dressed plainly in a grey wool coat and blue beanie. He seemed like someone Kai had seen before, although the town was small enough that it was plausible that Kai could’ve spotted him on the walk from the house to the store. Or maybe they’d seen each other on one of Kai’s yearly returns to the town.

It seemed that the man noticed him staring after a little while, and he made eye contact. Kai swallowed and quickly pretended to be busy examining the bag of chips in front of him. It definitely wasn’t on the list, but Kai picked up the bag to make it look like he was reading the label until he was sure the man was gone.

“What took you so long?” Bahiyyih complained, once Kai had finally completed his half of the list and met her near the check-out line.

“Dunno. They keep changing the layout in here, it’s confusing.” Kai purposely didn’t mention the man in the blue beanie. He was still mentally trying to figure out where he’d seen him before– he didn’t know why, but it seemed important.

“Bah. Men. The incompetence, I swear.”

“You’ve been here for two weeks already, you could’ve done this without me, and with your eyes closed,” Kai replied. “It’s not exactly massive in here, you probably have the place memorized.”

“You bet I do. Also, you should just be thankful that my job let me off early to come home and take care of Eomma. Getting groceries is nothing.”

That, Kai was very grateful for. The call in the middle of the workday from a nurse at the hospital letting him know that his mother had just been brought in by ambulance was an incredibly unpleasant memory. Neither he nor his sisters lived anywhere near their hometown anymore, so there was quite a bit of panicked messaging under his desk before Bahiyyih had finally told them that her boss had allowed her the extra time off.

Kai dutifully took all four bags of groceries and carried them up the hill by himself while Bahiyyih whistled to herself. It was easily a job that could’ve been done alone, but Kai supposed that it was good for him to get out of the house, anyway. He was about to spend nearly every waking moment in his childhood home– it would be a miracle if he didn’t go crazy.

There was general havoc as the three of them prepared dinner. Lea kept trying to direct everyone, but Bahiyyih was being obstinate on purpose. Kai just put his head down and kept chopping onions while they swapped jibes. He looked up when he heard his name.

“What happened to that diary you used to have in middle school?” Lea asked.

Kai shrugged. “Dunno. Eomma threw it out, probably. Who cares?”

“I care. That thing was a gold mine. The longest, funniest gay crisis in the history of this town,” Bahiyyih replied. “Remember the poetry?”

“You were eleven,” Kai said. “How do you remember the poetry?”

“Because it was an essential component of the longest, funniest gay crisis in the history of this town.”

Kai grimaced and tried to block out the memory. He’d successfully managed to do so for several years in a row. Funny wasn’t exactly the word he’d use to describe that tiny blue journal– mortifying, maybe. His fourteen-year-old self apparently hadn’t had much compassion for his thirty-year-old self. If he’d known that his sisters would continue to bring up that journal for the rest of his living existence then he’d probably have kept his thoughts to himself.

Or not. His younger self was apparently determined to have a drawn-out sexuality crisis on paper no matter the consequences.

He was relegated to dishwashing duty for some reason. Lea had said something about needing to finish an email and closed the door to her bedroom, and Bahiyyih had mysteriously disappeared. She was probably on her nightly run to the convenience store on the corner for snacks. Kai was fairly convinced she should just marry the cashier, at this point. He probably saw her more often than Bahiyyih’s actual girlfriend did.

He was just putting the last spoon on the drying rack when there was a horrifying screech from the hallway. The spoon hit the tile with a clatter, and Lea’s door snapped open. “What? Oh my God, are you dying!?”

“No!” Bahiyyih screamed, still at a pitch that should only be audible to bats and dolphins.

“Then what?” Kai sighed. “You probably just scared everyone on the block. The cops are going to show up at our door thinking there’s a homicide.”

Their mother called out from her bedroom.

“No, Eomma, everything’s fine. Hiyyih’s just being dramatic. Hikaru probably just sent her a picture of a new skirt, that’s all,” Kai called back.

Then, from inside her cardigan like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat, Bahiyyih revealed a pocket-sized blue book.

Kai’s stomach dropped. Lea started to cackle maniacally, and Bahiyyih lifted the book higher into the air while basking in her victory. “Why were you snooping in my room?”

“Because it’s not your room anymore, duh,” Bahiyyih replied. “You have a whole apartment. If you didn’t want me to find it, you should’ve hidden it better.”

“I didn’t know it was still in there.”

“Even worse. Should’ve checked the top back corner of your wardrobe, dumbass.”

Bahiyyih shook it a little, and dust rained down from the cover. She was still grinning from ear to ear like she’d just won the lottery. “Dramatic reading in the living room tonight?” Lea asked.

Kai groaned.
“Yeah, but only after I hit up the convenience store,” Bahiyyih replied. “This one warrants the special snacks.”

The special snacks were apparently three bottles of grape soju. The other two bags of junk food were sitting on the coffee table, full to bursting, but Bahiyyih had snuck the soju in her purse. Their mother usually didn’t allow them to drink in the house unless it was a holiday.

“This is a holiday,” Lea replied, voice low. “The anniversary of Huening Kai’s middle school downfall.”

“You found my diary during the summer. I know this specifically because I cried on the roof while it was ten million degrees outside,” Kai replied dryly.

“What’s there to cry about now? You’re thirty,” Bahiyyih said. Then, she covered her mouth. “Unless this is a genuine trauma for you. If you still haven’t emotionally recovered from your first love, that’s okay. I haven’t, either.”

“You haven’t recovered because you’re still dating her. Pass me a shot glass.”

It was at least mildly entertaining to watch his sisters’ faces getting redder and redder as the night went on. They were trying and failing to keep quiet the drunker that they got, giggling and falling over each other like they were kids again. After shoving a handful of jelly candies into her mouth, Lea flipped a page.

“Oh, this is a classic. You ready, Kai?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

She laid the book flat on the table. It had been written in and read through so many times that it stayed open without having to be folded back, the spine worn with age. Kai recognized the purple glitter gel pen and cringed. His handwriting wasn’t any better now than it was then.

“Roses are red, violets are blue. I love Caramel for his smile, but also ‘cause his tits are huge.”

There was another round of muffled giggles, and Kai snorted. Clearly his taste hadn’t changed much in the years between now and then.

“A middle schooler! Talking about how another middle schooler’s tits are huge. Kai, you were basically a shitty horny manga protagonist,” Bahiyyih whispered, face red from a combination of alcohol and trying to hold in her laughter.

“Another boy’s tits,” Lea emphasized. “If it was a girl I would have to hit you, but because it was a boy it’s hilarious.”

“Wow. Double standards much?” Kai said.

“Yep. Absolutely. For you? Double standards all the way. You liked those double D’s, too.”

Lea took one look at his face and practically collapsed over the table in a fit of silent laughter. Bahiyyih seemed to be deep in thought over a bag of chips. “I wish we just knew who Caramel was,” she said. “I mean, surely you must remember. Your first love? How could you forget him?”

Kai shrugged. “It was middle school. Doesn’t everyone have a million and one crushes in middle school?”

“No,” Bahiyyih replied. She crunched on a chip while squinting at him. “Are you lying?”

Kai stared at her. “About what?”

“Not knowing who he is.”

“No,” Kai answered honestly. “If I knew, I would’ve told you by now. You guys know everything about me whether I like it or not.”

“That’s ‘cause you can’t keep your mouth shut,” Lea interjected. “Chronic blabbermouth. It’s a disease.”

“You like it,” Kai said. “I’m the one who brings all the tea.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Lea acquiesced. “You better bring back every secret this town has ever had when we trade off in March.”

There was some more giggling over the writings of a lovestruck teenager– it wasn’t even horny, it was just sort of pathetic. Kai’s younger self had clearly been much too insecure to ever voice his feelings to the object of his affections. It was a lot of scribbling about how Caramel had dropped his pencil and their fingers had brushed in math class, or how good he looked on the soccer field.

“Ooh! Ooh, another poem. Hiyyih, your turn to read.”

Bahiyyih took the journal from her older sister and cleared her throat dramatically. “Caramel, shall I compare thee to a summer’s sun? Thou art hotter, and thine tits far rounder.”

Kai put his head in his hands. His sisters were practically rolling on the floor in fits of laughter, all three bottles of soju empty on the table in front of them. Kai would’ve thought with all of the practice that his poetry skills would’ve gotten better as the diary went on, but apparently that was not the case.

Eventually his sisters got tired of bullying him– it was well past midnight when Lea finally started to round up the trash and Bahiyyih got to sweeping crumbs off the table. Kai slipped the little blue journal into his pocket. They said their goodnights, and then Kai retreated to the relative safety of his childhood bedroom.

He went to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. He’d just tossed the journal onto his desk without really looking to see where it landed, but when he came back to change into his pajamas it was laying open. The creased spine had drooped to reveal the last page. There, in glittery gel pen, Kai could read the last poem written in it.

Every hello, every smile

Makes my heart feel like it runs a mile.

I want to say something, but all that I think

Just ends up on a page in purple ink.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Will I ever be brave enough to talk to you?

Kai’s sisters went back to Seoul after the Lunar New Year’s holiday was over. It was a pretty normal celebration, all things considered. Kai had helped his mother into the wheelchair that they kept folded in the corner of her room and wheeled her out into the living room for the festivities– she’d insisted on helping with the cooking, too. It was nice to have his family together even if it was only for a short time.

The biggest difference was the fact that when Kai drove his sisters to the train station, he stayed on the platform. They both boarded the train to Seoul, nearly identical smiles waving as the windows started to blur together and the train departed. Kai stayed there a moment longer before turning and heading back to the same house he’d lived in for half his life.

He passed the hospital on his way home and made a mental note. His mother had been cleared to start physical therapy in a week, so he needed to figure out which entrance they’d have to use and where the best parking was. He was glad that she was making a smooth recovery, but transporting her in and out of the car was still difficult. It would be a lot harder without one of his sisters to help balance.

Life became one long string of mundanity after that. He spent his days working in his bedroom or the living room for a change of scenery, regularly taking breaks to check in on his mother or help her to the bathroom whenever she needed it. A nurse from the hospital occasionally came by to log her progress– apparently a daughter of one of her friends from the bookstore, although not someone that Kai had known growing up.

“Kai-yah?”

“Yes, Eomma?” Kai called back.

“Eunchae is going to stop by. She’s going to show us to the physical therapy office this afternoon.”

“Right, right,” Kai said, quickly hitting send on an email and getting up to comb his hair. He hadn’t even bothered to look in the mirror this morning– no one at work would know that he was still in penguin-patterned pajamas if they only saw faceless meetings and countless emails about debugging whatever ancient code the company was still running.

Eunchae was a tall, polite woman a few years younger than Kai. She always bowed whenever she greeted his mother, and she was happy to help him with the transfer to the car. She directed him to a side lot and pointed him to a set of doors up a ramp.

“I think she’s going to be with Kang Taehyun, but I’m not sure,” Eunchae said. “Let me check with the desk.”

Kai waited with his mother while she went to the front of the tiny office. It was a small town– there was no need for the bustling hospitals of Seoul here. There were only a handful of chairs in the waiting room, and no one else was there but them and the bespectacled woman behind the desk.

“Yep, this way.” Eunchae opened the door for them, leading them around a corner in the back hallway to one of the appointment rooms. Kai had seen what looked like a modified gym as they passed. Presumably that was for the patients to work on regaining their strength and mobility, but Kai amused himself for a while with the idea of his elderly mother getting super ripped and muscular while they waited. Eunchae had gone to start her shift upstairs.

There was a short knock, and the door opened. The man that entered was oddly familiar, but Kai couldn’t place him. He was wearing green scrubs and grey athletic shoes. He seemed to recognize Kai, too, although he didn’t say anything right away. He was very smart-sounding and professional as he went through Kai’s mother’s medical history.

“Yes, and I see that Doctor Choi cleared you on Friday. That’s excellent, I would say that you’ve made a great recovery. How would you rate your pain over the last two weeks?”

Kai zoned out, still trying to place the man in the scrubs. His badge read Kang Taehyun, but Kai already knew that because Eunchae had said so. Somewhere deep in his brain, alarm bells were going off.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s sun? Thou art hotter, and thine tits far rounder.

Kai fought the urge to slap himself. That was a very inappropriate thought to be having about his mother’s physical therapist, even if it wasn’t exactly uncalled for. Kai could see Kang Taehyun’s pecs bulging through his scrubs. His lanyard was falling right between them, which only made it more obvious.

“Right, well we’ll head back right now so I can show you the exercises. Kai, do you want to come back with us or wait at the front?”

Kai’s head shot up to stare Taehyun in the face. There was no reason for him to address Kai so casually, and he was smiling. There was a dimple on his left cheek. Kai recognized the liquid-black twinkle in his eyes.

“We went to school together,” Kai blurted.

“Yes. I was starting to think you’d forgotten me,” Taehyun replied, although it was clear from his tone that he wasn’t offended. “Do you want to come back with us, or would you rather wait outside? The coffee at the café here is actually pretty good.”

“Uh, I guess I’ll get a coffee then,” Kai said. “Eomma, do you want anything?”

“No, no. You go on and get some work done.”

Kai left with his laptop bag slung over his shoulder, although he didn’t get much work done. Taehyun’s smile kept flashing in front of his eyes, which made completing tickets pretty difficult. It wasn’t just that they’d gone to school together. There was something else, something about him that had been special.

He remembered all of his school friends, though. They’d been mentioned here and there through the diary that his sisters had read a couple weeks back. Kai desperately wished that he didn’t have the memory of a goldfish.

He closed his eyes and tried to put himself back in the shoes of his middle school self. Roughly-cut bangs, limbs that were too long for his skinny body, a voice that squeaked whenever he spoke–

Nope. That was terrible. Kai was never going to go back to his middle school days ever again. He was going to have to find another way to figure out who Kang Taehyun was.

He sat at the hospital café and pretended to work for another half-hour before deciding that it was probably time to head back. He bought a green tea for his mother on the way out, and then went to the same tiny waiting room he’d left not long before. He was just in time to catch Taehyun wheeling her out, chatting amiably. He smiled again when he spotted Kai.

“She’s doing great,” Taehyun said warmly. “She’ll still need help with transfers, of course, but I gave her some exercises to help with strength so that she’ll get some independence back. I’m sure you’ll get more visits from Eunchae in the meantime, but she’s scheduled back here next Monday. Call the office if you have any questions, and I’m happy to help.”

“Uh, yeah, that sounds great,” Kai replied, dragging his eyes up from where Taehyun’s lanyard was dangling between his pecs. “Do I need to help her with the exercises?”

“Nope, all independent work,” Taehyun said. “Unless she needs help remembering to do them, of course, but I have a feeling she’ll be fine.”

“Yes, I’m right here, you know,” Kai’s mother cut in dryly, and Taehyun let out a short chuckle.

“Of course, ma’am. Again, feel free to contact the office any time if you have questions.”

Kai wheeled his mother out of the office after another twinkling smile from Taehyun. There was a moment of quiet between them before she spoke. “Well, if I had known that the physical therapist was such a hottie, I’d have broken my hip earlier.”

Kai burst out laughing. Thankfully the parking lot was virtually empty, but it was difficult to get her into the car in between giggles. She seemed pleased that he was laughing.

“You know him from school?”

“I think I did,” Kai answered, getting into the driver’s seat. “I don’t really remember. I wish I did.”

“Can’t believe you forgot a face like that. He must’ve been a late bloomer if you and your blistering homosexuality can’t recall him.”

Kai cringed as he put the car in reverse, but she wasn’t exactly wrong. His homosexuality was a major distraction from his school life. It was a miracle that he’d managed to pass any of his classes at all.

“You know, maybe it’s a good thing that you came down from Seoul,” his mother mused. “Kang Taehyun clearly remembers you. Maybe you made a good impression.”

“In school?” Kai cringed again, flicking on his blinker to make the turn onto the main road. “I doubt it. I was bullied in elementary school, and the world’s most awkward-looking string bean until nineteen.”

“Maybe he likes awkward string beans.”

Kai let out another short laugh. “Or maybe he just remembers me because I was weird, Eomma. Besides, he’s probably got a girlfriend, or something.”

His mother hmmphed and pulled out her phone. Kai could hear the sound of her keyboard clacking, the yellow Kakao message screen bobbing in his peripheral vision. “No, Eomma, don’t do it. Eomma, please–“

“He’s single. Eunchae says so.”

Kai groaned.

Maybe it was because Kai was secretly a masochist, or maybe he just had a deep compassion for his middle-school self buried inside– either way, the little blue journal stayed on his desk. He flipped through it when he was working sometimes, just to see what his teenage self was thinking.

Most of it was uninteresting. The test he’d passed, the homework he’d forgotten, the friends that he’d hung out after school with on that particular day. Kai recognized their names, but none of them had really stayed with him after graduation. The most he saw of his school friends these days was the occasional Instagram post.

One chilly Saturday, he decided to go into the storage closet to see if he could dig out his old yearbook. He hadn’t seen it in years, and he wasn’t sure if his mother had even bothered to keep it after so long. There was no reason to, really. Kai wasn’t usually the type to reminisce. His school years were best forgotten.

He finally found one in a taped-up box labeled “Memories” in his mother’s handwriting. It was slightly more recent than the diary– this one was a high-school yearbook, but it would be close enough. Very few kids moved in and out of a town this small until they left for university.

The spine made a crackling noise when he opened it for the first time. He flipped through, nose wrinkling at the smell of old paper. He glossed over a handful of club photos, and rows of students lined up in their uniforms for class photos. He skimmed through until he reached the back section of the yearbook.

This was from his graduating class. There were individual portraits blown up to fill the whole page, and he scoffed at his own picture. The fact that his mother had sent him to school with bangs cut that unevenly had to be some sort of crime. 

He examined the photo. His younger self was barely making eye contact with the camera, clearly trying to attempt some sort of pose but too shy to really commit to it. There was a single half-hearted peace sign and a close-lipped smile.

He flipped through a few more pages. The faces of friends he hardly recognized now passed by in a blur, but then Kai found what he was looking for. Underneath the photo of a grinning boy was the name Kang Taehyun.

Taehyun had grown up, clearly, but there were still a lot of similarities to the way he looked now. His face had slimmed down some, but he still had the same dimple in his left cheek. His eyes sparkled even on paper. He was wearing his uniform with his badge pinned to his chest, and he was holding a soccer ball on one shoulder.

Kai’s eyes stopped on the soccer ball. Caramel had been on the soccer team. A particularly egregious poem flashed through his brain in purple gel pen.

Captain of the team, captain of my heart.

On the field you score goal after goal,

And you score, too, in my heart and soul.

The cheers from the stands, fave of the fans,

You smile to them all, so bright and sweet.

I guess you’ll never know that one of them is me.

He practically threw the book back in the box. He always skipped over that particular poem whenever he read through his old diary because although he hated himself, he didn’t hate himself that much. Apparently the self-hatred was so pervasive that his brain had decided to torture him by memorizing the poem word for word.

“Kai?” His mother called. “Everything alright?”

“Fine, Eomma! I just dropped something, that’s all.”

“Well, I really appreciate you cleaning the closet out. It’s been on my to-do list for the last two years.”

Right. Kai was supposed to be cleaning. He closed up the box and taped it shut, debating whether or not he should toss the whole thing before deciding to shuffle it to the back of the closet instead. If his sisters ever found that, he would never hear the end of it.

The next time Kai brought his mother to physical therapy, she insisted that Kai come back to the exercise room with her. There was really no reason to, since Taehyun was perfectly capable of pushing a frail woman in a wheelchair, but Kai did as she asked. Taehyun made polite conversation as they went.

“Where are you now?” He asked. “I mean, you don’t still live in town, or I would see you more often, right?”

“Yeah. I’m in Seoul,” Kai replied. “Working IT support and backend coding for this manufacturing company.”

“Wow. Sounds like a lot.”

Kai chuckled. “Can’t be harder than what you do. I mean, you were probably in university for what, six years?”

“Something like that.” Taehyun held the door open for them, and Kai maneuvered the chair until they were positioned next to a padded bench. “I was in Seoul for a bit, too.”

“Oh, really? I had no idea.”

“Yeah. I did my schooling and residency there.”

“Wow. We’ve lived in the same place for, like, our whole lives and didn’t know it,” Kai said. “That’s kind of funny.”

Taehyun elbowed him gently, in a playful, familiar way. “Maybe we would’ve realized if you hadn’t forgotten me.”

“I didn’t forget you!” Kai protested, resisting the urge to shiver at Taehyun’s touch on his arm.

“Definitely did. You know, you’ve changed a lot since high school.”

Kai’s face scrunched up. “Thankfully. Every time I walk past a photo of myself at my mom’s place I’m tempted to turn it around.”

“Don’t you dare touch my decor,” his mother said.

“Right, of course,” Taehyun said, although the corners of his lips were tilted up. “He’s definitely not turning all the photos around at home while we’re busy here.”

Kai made an offended noise, and Taehyun laughed. The sound was familiar, too. Maybe Kai remembered him from school better than he’d originally thought.

“Right, um, well, I guess I’m going to work in the café again. Eomma, you want another green tea?”

“Yes, please.”

Kai looked at Taehyun. “You want anything?”

Taehyun waved his hand. “You don’t have to get me anything.”

“Yes he does,” Kai’s mother chimed in. Taehyun laughed again.

“Okay. A caramel macchiato would be lovely.”

As Kai walked through the winding hallways to the hospital café, he couldn’t stop picturing the way that Taehyun’s lips had formed the word caramel. It was making his stomach feel funny. He washed the feeling down with an Americano, and told himself not to think about it.

He returned to the physical therapy office an hour later, balancing two drinks with his laptop bag on his shoulder. He idled in the waiting room for a few minutes. The secretary didn’t pay him any mind aside from the casual greeting he heard every time he entered.

Then, his mother’s voice rounded the corner. Taehyun was laughing at something she was saying as he opened the door into the waiting room. He looked up at Kai, dimple out and eyes sparkling.

“I had no idea you were such a big soccer fan, Kai.”

“What?”

“You used to go to every game in high school, remember?” His mother said. “Absolutely terrible at PE, but a passionate soccer fan.”

Kai handed over the green tea, and then passed Taehyun the caramel macchiato. He tried not to shiver when their fingers touched for just the briefest second. Taehyun was cute, so what?

“Oh, yeah. Uh, a short-lived passion, I guess,” Kai said. “I haven’t really kept up with it after high school.”

“Bummer,” Taehyun replied, taking a sip of his drink. Kai could see the slight upturn of his lips around the lid of the cup. “I would’ve asked if you wanted to watch the game with me tomorrow night at Mr. Choi’s bar.”

“He’s a massive fan!” Kai’s mother cut in loudly. “I’m sure he would love to go with you. Isn’t that right, Kai?”

“Uh.” Kai made eye contact with his mother, squinting at her suspiciously. Her expression gave nothing away. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt. Be nice to get out of the house for once, I mean. Are you sure you’re not going to need help, Eomma?”

“I’ll be fine.” She waved her hand at him. “You go, have a fun night off. I’ll call Eunchae if anything comes up.”

“Settled, then,” Taehyun said. “Make sure you’re wearing blue. Mr. Choi is a fan of the Bluewings.”

Kai chuckled. “And what about you?”

“Non-committal, really. I’m much more interested in the international matches, so I don’t have much skin in the game tomorrow.”

“Well, that’s good. If you’d said FC Seoul Mr. Choi might not even let us in.”

“So you do follow soccer!” Taehyun said brightly. “This’ll be so much fun. I can’t believe we actually managed to meet up again after graduation.”

“Oh, yes, he’s a hoot,” Kai’s mother said dryly. “Now, Kai-yah, if you don’t mind, a woman has to pee.”

Kai was starting to regret agreeing to go out at all as he was walking to the bar. The weather was absolutely terrible, considering how late it was in the season. Freezing wind blew snow and ice crystals into his face. He huddled further into his coat, trying to use the collar to shield his face. He’d be right on time for the beginning of the match– assuming he didn’t fall down the hill and break his hip, too.

When he arrived, he spotted Taehyun immediately. He was wearing a grey wool coat and a blue beanie. It looked like he’d just gotten there, too, because he still had his mittens on.

“Kai!” He called cheerfully, as soon as the door closed behind him. “Good to see you!”

“You, too,” Kai said. “I– uh, this is going to be weird, but did I see you at the grocery store a couple weeks ago?”

Taehyun’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “Yes. You didn’t recognize me, though.”

“No, I think I did.”

“Well, at least that explains why you were staring holes into the side of my head,” Taehyun teased. Despite the frigid weather, Kai suddenly felt like his face was burning up.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I’m– well, you know. Still awkward. Not that much has changed since high school.”

Taehyun hummed, but didn’t respond right away. He led Kai to the bar, ordering a whiskey on the rocks before settling on one of the stools. The bar was gradually starting to fill as the game began.

Kai ordered whatever beer seemed the least egregious before sitting next to Taehyun. There wasn’t much space, so his knees kept knocking into Taehyun’s under the counter. Taehyun didn’t mention it.

He took a thoughtful sip of his drink, eyes on the television positioned on the wall behind Kai. Kai could see the luminescent glow of it reflected in his pupils.

“You know, I guess you’re right. You haven’t changed that much since high school.”

“Ouch,” Kai said. He took a sip of his beer, making a face. It was much more bitter than he remembered it being.

Taehyun glanced in his direction for a second and chuckled. “Not in a bad way. I’m not saying that you’re awkward. I don’t think you ever were.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I was so awkward it was painful.”

“Not to me. I mean, you’re still sweet. Polite. Humbler than you should be, I guess.”

Kai tilted his head. “What does that mean?”

Taehyun’s eyes landed on him for longer this time, roaming over his face. “You’re tall. Handsome. Nice job, a place in Seoul. You got out of this tiny town in the middle of nowhere and made it.”

“You did, too,” Kai pointed out, choosing to ignore the compliments. They were making his head feel awfully fuzzy considering the fact that his drink was still practically full. “You came back here because– I mean, why did you? I’m sure you could’ve gotten a position somewhere else if you wanted to.”

Taehyun shrugged. “I like it here. It’s quiet, easy, a soft life. I used to think that ambition was everything, but I saw how many of my classmates burned out in school and I realized I didn’t want that. I like the soft life.”

Kai thought about that for a while as he sipped on his beer. It was nice to get away from the neon rush of Seoul, the constant competition and the sea of faces with identical nose jobs and identical outfits. At least here, he didn’t feel the need to hold up any sort of pretenses.

“Aren’t you lonely here?” He asked. “There aren’t that many people our age that stuck around. Mostly everyone left after university, right?”

“Yes, but it’s not so bad. The people that are here are nice. Everyone knows everyone, and they take care of each other.” Kai watched Taehyun’s lips on the rim of his glass, the noise of the bar and the game on TV fading into the background for a while. The apples of his cheeks were growing pinker and pinker as the whiskey disappeared. 

Kai was fascinated by Taehyun. Kai been chasing this vague something his whole life, some sort of success he didn’t quite know the shape of. Perhaps it was the inherent expectation of growing up in a small town that pushed him out of it in search of something bigger, but Taehyun had purposefully turned away from the chase. He’d flown the nest and then chosen to land again.

There was a round of cheers as the Bluewings scored. The shouting interrupted Kai’s train of thought, and he glanced at the television. The bartender was cheering, too, decked out from head to toe in Bluewings gear. This must be the Mr. Choi Taehyun had referenced before.

Taehyun was smiling at the TV, blue beanie having slid down off his glossy black hair in the pandemonium. Instinctively, Kai reached out to catch it before it fell to the floor.

“Oh!” Taehyun exclaimed quietly. Kai froze. His arm was almost wrapped around Taehyun’s waist, the pair of them squeezed together by the celebrating crowd in the bar. He was staring up at Kai, liquid-dark eyes wide, and Kai was momentarily stunned. He smelled like whiskey and something sweeter.

“Thank you,” Taehyun said, taking his hat. Kai slid back into his seat right away, willing the flush to leave his cheeks.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. He took a drink from his beer just to hide his face, frowning again at the bitterness.

It was much too loud and chaotic to even bother conversing now, so Kai sat and pretended to watch the television. He still remembered the rules of the game, so at least he could follow along. FC Seoul was ahead by three points. There were boos whenever they scored another goal, and cheers when a Bluewings player successfully landed a ball in the net.

Taehyun had various reactions as the game went on, and eventually Kai gave up on pretending to watch the TV in favor of watching Taehyun. He was so naturally animated, eye-catching, every side of him effortlessly magnetic. Kai had vague recollections of watching him on the pitch as a high-schooler. Caramel had been on the team in middle school. Maybe that’s why Kai could recall Taehyun on the fringes of his subconscious. As the high-school team captain, it was very possible that Taehyun played in middle school, too.

Taehyun ordered them another round of drinks at halftime. The crowd was still rowdy– the game was nearly tied, and tension buzzed in the air as the bartender handed out drinks.

“You still stare a lot, too,” Taehyun said. “Just like high school.”

“Oh my God.” Kai buried his face in his hands, mortified. “I’m sorry, I just– I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“It’s okay if the game is boring you, you can just say so,” Taehyun replied, laughing.

“No, I just– sorry. I know I stare a lot.”

Taehyun went quiet, examining Kai’s face. He purposefully turned towards the bar to conceal his expression. “It’s okay,” Taehyun said again. “I mean, if it was someone else I might be weirded out, but we’re kind of friends. Friends that could’ve been.”

“Could’ve been?” Kai blurted, surprised.

“Yeah. If you hadn’t forgotten me.”

“Are you ever going to let that go!?”

Taehyun burst out laughing, drawing attention to them despite the general hubbub of the bar. “No, not really. I remembered this cute boy from high school for all these years only to find out that he’s forgotten who I am.”

“I–“ Kai coughed once, the bitterness of the second beer finally catching in his throat. “I am not cute.”

“You are.” It didn’t sound like a compliment, or like flirting– Taehyun said it like it was an objective fact. He didn’t elaborate, leaving Kai to stew in his thoughts as the game resumed.

Kai was mostly done with his third beer by the time the game finished. The Bluewings had lost, leaving a rather somber air in the bar as the patrons filtered out. Taehyun seemed unbothered, sipping his last whiskey for the night. Kai supposed that the game didn’t matter much to him, anyway.

Eventually, Taehyun slid his glass over to the bartender. Kai did the same. He started to zip up his coat, watching as Taehyun did up the buttons on his. He didn’t even seem tipsy, fingers nimble and eyes bright.

“I am not looking forward to the walk home,” Kai said, stopping just before the door. “It was windy as fuck coming down the hill.”

Taehyun smirked. “Sucks to be you. My apartment is two streets from here.”

Kai groaned. “Maybe I’ll just sleep on the couch here. Can’t be that nasty, right? It’s just a bar couch.”

“Absolutely and positively the singular nastiest place in this town. No competition,” Taehyun replied, jamming his beanie back over his hair. He pulled his gloves out of his pocket, and something shiny fell to the ground. He bent down to pick it up.

Kai saw what it was. In his hand was a gold-wrapped caramel.

His breath stopped in his chest. He recognized that candy. The name Caramel clicked into his brain immediately, and he fought back a shriek of horror. He’d been sitting shoulder to shoulder with his middle-school crush all night. It all made sense– the soccer team captain, the massive pecs, the caramel macchiato at the hospital café.

“Oh my God. Holy fuck.” The words left his mouth before he’d even registered what he’d said. “You used to carry those around at school every day.”

Taehyun’s eyebrows went up, and he paused in the process of putting his mittens on. “Yes, I did. They’re my favorite.”

“I used to buy packs from the convenience store and leave them at your desk,” Kai whispered, before slamming his hand over his mouth. It was too late, because Taehyun had clearly heard what he’d just said.

“That was you?”

“No! I mean– yeah, yes. It was.” Kai’s sentence petered out. There was no point in lying now. That had been back in middle school– surely it didn’t matter that much, all these years later.

“Ah.” There was a soft smile tilting Taehyun’s lips, cheeks pink from whiskey and something else. “You know, I always wondered who was doing that.”

“I just– I saw that you liked them, and I wanted to do something nice.” It was a weak excuse.

“It was nice. I appreciated it. My buddies used to tease me, always said that I had a secret admirer, but I always just thought it was nice that someone cared enough to notice.”

Kai blinked. “What? You weren’t freaked out by it?”

“Why would I be freaked out?” Taehyun chuckled, fiddling with his mittens again. “They’re just caramels.”

“I wrote poetry about you. Bad poetry.”

Taehyun looked up at him for a second, silent, and Kai regretted being born. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you are kind of awkward, Huening Kai.”

Kai made some sort of noise between a grunt and a squeak. “I warned you! I said so! I warned you, and you still thought it was a good idea to bring me here and try to talk to me even though my social skills haven’t progressed since I bought that last bag of caramels, like, ten years ago.” He was rambling now, because Taehyun still hadn’t taken his eyes off of him. It was making Kai feel like crawling out of his skin and leaving it behind to start a new life– preferably in a place where no one knew him.

“It’s not really a bad thing, it’s just– you would’ve had to waterboard that out of me,” Taehyun said. “And you just came straight out and admitted it.”

“I’m bad at keeping secrets. My sisters always bully me about it,” Kai admitted.

Taehyun chuckled. “I can tell.”

Thankfully the wind had died down, although it was still snowing outside the bar. Kai tried to secure his hood over his hair. The street was quiet. There was no one else out in this weather besides the two of them, washed in orange by the streetlights and the neon sign over the bar.

Kai had expected Taehyun to leave pretty much immediately after how badly he’d just fumbled, but Taehyun lingered beside the lamppost at the intersection where they would be separated. It seemed like he wanted to say something. Kai had learned his lesson after already embarrassing himself multiple times tonight, so he kept his mouth shut.

“I’ll see you next Monday?” Taehyun said, inflection rising at the end of the sentence like it was a question. It was a bit anticlimactic, but Kai nodded.

“Okay. I had fun tonight. It was good to see you again, Kai.”

Kai nodded again. “You, too. I’m sorry for– you know. My big mouth.”

Taehyun’s responding laugh was muffled by the thick snowfall. Flakes were landing on his blue beanie, sticking to his eyelashes. “It’s okay. It’s cute.”

They parted ways at the intersection, but Kai heard his name being called a few seconds later. He turned around. Taehyun was waving his arms, mittened hands batting snowflakes around. Kai could see his shiny eyes peeking out above his coat collar. “Send me some of the poetry!”

“No way!” Kai yelled back. Taehyun gave him a mittened thumbs-down, and Kai turned around to walk home for real this time. The whole time, middle-school memories that had finally been released from the confines of his subconscious crashed over him like an avalanche.

He must’ve still been too tipsy to reason with Taehyun’s sparkling eyes, because when he spotted the little blue book on his desk he pulled out his phone. Camera hovering over the glittery, purple-penned letters, he snapped a picture and hit send before he could think about it too much.

The poetry must’ve really tipped their tenuous friendship over the edge, because Kai didn’t hear from Taehyun again after their night out at the bar. He spent the rest of the week trying not to bang his head into his desk. He didn’t know what had possessed him to send the poem– maybe he was a masochist. A glutton for pain, although pain wasn’t really the right word. A glutton for embarrassment, maybe.

The diary went back into its same dusty hiding spot on top of Kai’s wardrobe. He’d put it there to try to keep himself from reliving the various repeated fumbles over and over again, but it didn’t seem to be working. He was lagging behind at his job because he couldn’t look at lines of code without seeing purple gel pen flash before his eyes.

His mother must’ve sensed that something was wrong, because she didn’t bring Taehyun up again until the Monday morning of her appointment. Eunchae had come by a few times to check up on her, but Kai had hidden himself away to avoid her pitying gaze. No doubt Taehyun had already told her what had happened. They were coworkers, and small-town secrets never stayed secret for long.

“Kai-yah! We’re going to be late. Kang Taehyun is very punctual, you know. It would be rude to disrespect his time.”

“I know, I know,” Kai muttered, even though he’d been purposefully dragging out the time until they had to drive to the hospital. Maybe he could just leave his mother in the waiting room and let Taehyun pick her up there to avoid seeing him.

His mother was suspiciously quiet during the ride to the hospital. “Hm. It’s Valentine’s Day,” she said offhandedly.

“I know. Hiyyih already sent pictures of flowers and chocolates and all that stuff in the group chat this morning.”

His mother sniffed. “She shouldn’t be flaunting her relationship so much when you’re chronically single. Offensive, really.”

“I’m not offended,” Kai insisted. “I’m happy for her. I’m glad she’s found someone she likes, and someone who likes her so much.”

“Still. I’m offended on your behalf. Everyone in this family knows you couldn’t catch a date if someone threw it at you, so she shouldn’t be rubbing it in your face.”

Kai rolled his eyes and flicked on the turn signal to enter the parking lot. His mother seemed much more concerned about his relationship status than he’d ever been. If he died single, so what? It wasn’t like his parents had much hope for grandchildren anyway.

Kai wheeled his mother through the hospital hallway for what felt like the millionth time, pushing the waiting room door open with his foot and maneuvering her inside. She’d been able to walk short distances with a cane as of late, but the journey from the car to the office was still too far. Taehyun had told her it was a good sign.

Kai chickened out and left before Taehyun appeared from the back office. His mother had shouted something about tea and a caramel macchiato as he left, hefting his laptop bag over his shoulder. His usual spot at the hospital café was empty, so he sat in the corner and tried to get some work done. Emails seemed like a manageable task until he’d accidentally typed Caramel instead of Kai as his sign-off. Thankfully, he’d caught the error before he hit send.

The hour felt like a million years and a minute all at once, and before he knew it Kai was closing his laptop and walking to the counter for the two to-go orders. The woman working the register recognized him by now, and she put the paper cups into a cardboard carrier without him having to say anything. He thanked her and started the walk of shame back to the physical therapy facility with his head down.

He kept shifting between sitting and standing in the waiting room, finally forcing himself to sit still when he’d accidentally spilled some of his mother’s tea onto his pant leg. He didn’t know what was taking them so long. The appointment was supposed to end five minutes ago, and Taehyun was never late.

Finally, his mother appeared in the doorway. She was walking with her cane, Taehyun rolling the folded-up wheelchair with one hand and holding the door for her with the other. Kai shot to his feet.

“Eomma, that looks great.”

“She’s been working hard,” Taehyun said, tone warm. There was no indication that he was mad at Kai, or embarrassed, or freaked out, or anything else. He was a lot better at pretending to be normal than Kai was.

“Well, I uh– I brought your drinks,” he said, cursing the way his voice had squeaked halfway through the sentence. Taehyun had reached out for the macchiato, hand touching Kai’s like it was no big deal to him.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.” Taehyun helped to unfold the wheelchair so that Kai’s mother could sit, cane across her lap.

“Kai-yah, he has something for you.”

Kai blinked, stunned. “You do?”

“Yeah,” Taehyun replied, an uncharacteristically shy expression on his face. “It’s– you know. Do you want to come to the office with me?”

“Sure,” Kai said, before he could stop to think about what he was agreeing to. His mouth was running without his permission.

Taehyun led him to a smaller office in the back. It was decorated with a few personal effects, including a photograph of Taehyun and a baby. Taehyun saw him looking at it. “My niece,” he said. “My older sister’s kid.”

“Oh,” Kai said. “That’s nice. That you have a baby in the family, I mean. Seems fun.”

“It is.” Taehyun did not elaborate. Instead, he picked up a purple envelope from the far corner of the desk and handed it to Kai.

Not knowing what else to do with it, Kai opened it. Inside was a picture– Kai’s middle-school yearbook photo. Kai cringed so hard he felt something in his back pop. “Where did you get this?” He asked, face burning.

“Your mom has a lot of stuff saved,” Taehyun answered. “Turn it over.”

Kai did. On the back was a poem.

I know that for ten long years

We’ve been so close and yet so far.

But for all of this time,

I’ve kept a cute boy in my heart.

He sat behind me, two desks away,

Too shy to say more than hello.

By chance we met again one day,

And I just really need to know,

Huening Kai, if I’m not too late,

Can I take you on a second date?

Kai was numb all over. For a long time, he couldn’t move or speak. “Is this a joke?” He whispered.

Taehyun’s expression was soft. “Of course not.”

“You– you really want to go out with me again after I… I don’t know. I was the worst. I fumbled so bad.”

“You were cute,” Taehyun said, smiling. “You still are.”

Kai reached into his pocket. He didn’t know why he’d stopped to buy them at the corner store that morning– something had just told him to. He held out the packet of gold-wrapped caramel candies.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said. “I– yes. We can go on another date. And another one, and another one after that if I haven’t scared you off yet.”

Taehyun took the caramel packet from Kai with a grin on his face. He looked brilliantly happy, and Kai could only recall a few times he’d ever seen him look like this. It made his heartbeat rise in his ears. Taehyun put the caramels on his desk and rose to his tiptoes to kiss Kai’s cheek.

It was only a short brush of his lips on his left cheekbone, but Kai almost fainted.  Taehyun looked pleased with himself. “Does it look like you’ve scared me off yet?”

“You’re going to be scared when I have to be admitted to this hospital for a heart attack,” Kai managed. “You can’t– you can’t do that to me without warning me first. I’m not that… you know. I don’t think my constitution can handle it.”

Taehyun tilted his head. Even here, under the terrible fluorescent lights that made Kai look like a walking zombie, Taehyun’s eyes shone. “Okay. I’m going to kiss you now.”

“What?”

The next thing Kai knew, Taehyun was kissing him. His hands came up to Taehyun’s waist on instinct, feeling toned muscle beneath his work scrubs, and suddenly he was light-headed. His middle-school self would’ve killed–

No. This wasn’t about his middle-school self. Taehyun was here, right now, kissing this Kai. He tried to savor it. He’d dated on and off in Seoul, but nothing had ever stuck. No one else had ever stuck like Taehyun. He tasted like caramel macchiato and something close to home.

They parted just enough for Taehyun to speak. “I’m going to get fired for inappropriate work conduct.”

“Not if no one tattles on you,” Kai mumbled. “I’m not going to tattle on you.”

Taehyun giggled, and Kai pulled away to look at him. He pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Taehyun smacked his hand gently. “No. I like you, for real. Cheesy-poems-on-Valentine’s-Day for real.”

“I can’t believe you actually wrote that,” Kai said. “I didn’t think you were the type.”

Taehyun’s adorable face scrunched up. “I’m not. It kind of killed me inside, honestly.”

“Good. Now we’re even. When I woke up and saw that I actually sent you one of those poems I almost jumped out of my window.”

Taehyun smoothed his thumb over Kai’s jaw. “I’m not saying you should throw yourself out of a window, but I am saying it would be nice to have you around just a little bit longer.”

“My job,” Kai reminded him. “I’m on family leave.”

“I know, I know. I’m just not ready to be so far away again.”

Maybe it was just his brain being stupid, or maybe Kai really was a masochist. Already, he was thinking of a life in the countryside with Taehyun. A small apartment, a cozy town, a soft life. It was a ridiculous notion. They hadn’t even been on their second date yet.

“Come back to visit me,” Taehyun murmured. He pressed his lips to Kai’s in a gentle peck. “Promise.”

“You can’t say that and then kiss me. I’ll never leave,” Kai responded weakly.

Taehyun kissed him again. “I can work with that. As long as you don’t go forgetting me again.”

“I never forgot you!”

“You did.”

“…Okay, maybe I did. Just a little bit.”