Work Text:
Seoul, 2063
“Jaehee, you’re on in five minutes,” Sion, his director, shouts through his mic. Daeyoung takes a deep breath in; this is a big day in his life, arguably the biggest so far. In the three years he has been hosting this show, he hasn’t had an opportunity to interview an A-list celebrity as sought-after. His heart is beating out of his chest with an intensity threatening to his survival.
He is a professional if nothing, though. He shrugs his shoulders, looks at Sion with a smile and gives a thumbs-up. He steps onto the set and adjusts so the frame is focused on him. Sitting on his chair, he is going through his script, and there is a disposable bottle of water in his line of vision just a few seconds later. It’s Park Jisung, one of the producers of the show, with a kind smile. Daeyoung moves to stand up, but Jisung stops him with a gentle push on his shoulder. “Drink this, you need it. All the best, don’t be too nervous, Jaehee-ssi. He is a very chill guy.”
Daeyoung laughs at the comment. “So I have heard, PD-nim. I’ll try not to be too nervous.” Emphasis on the try. Jisung seems sufficed as Daeyoung accepts the water with a bow and gratitude, and walks out of the camera frame. A minute or so later, he is ready for it.
On Sion’s cue, he switches to Jaehee. “Good evening, everybody. It’s still a little chilly these days, isn’t it?” It’s easy for him to put his professional face on, easy to forget the twitch in his skin or the tremble on his fingertips.
“You must be so excited for today's guest,” he continues once he's done with the regular formalities of welcoming the audiences—both at home (who will get to watch in a couple days) and in the studio. “After all, he is very special. So, I won't make you wait any longer. Please welcome on stage, two-time Booker Prize winner, Lee Donghyuck-ssi.” It kind of is scary how loud the applause is; it seems like it won't stop.
Lee Donghyuck walks into the frame with a confident stride, radiating power and friendliness simultaneously. Daeyoung hasn’t read his books per se, save for the random one he did for today's interview so he wouldn’t seem too unprepared or disrespectful. He got introduced to Donghyuck thirty minutes earlier though, and knew from the first second that this is a man with a story.
“Hello, Lee Donghyuck-ssi, how are you today?”
It begins with pleasantries like all interviews do. He introduces the writer to the audience even though he is well-known all around the country, even bits of the world outside. They talk about Donghyuck’s achievements, his future plans, and then the book he is here to promote.
“This is going to be my last book,” Donghyuck says, leaning back into his chair with a smile. The in-studio audience whines, making both Donghyuck and Daeyoung laugh. “I am sixty-three, people. I can’t do it anymore. Do you even know how hard it is to not fall asleep while staring at words at my age?” Donghyuck jokes, his relationship with his fans looks so natural and freeing. Daeyoung wonders if he could ever become this successful of a person.
The ease with which Donghyuck makes the audience laugh is comforting. Daeyoung wasn’t a fan before; now, he is going to buy every book this man has written in his entire lifetime. “Jaehee, touch-up,” one of the directors shouts, and the crew goes lax for the time being.
Riku is on his side immediately, soft cushion patting onto his face gently, even softer fingertips holding up his chin. Daeyoung’s breath stops as it does every time. Riku looks up at him with a gentle smile, and Daeyoung barely ever holds himself straight when Riku kneels in front of him this way. His eyes are sparkly and kind, Daeyoung gets lost in them for way too long.
“You’re doing so good, Jaehee-yah. I am so proud of you.”
From his periphery, Donghyuck is observing them keenly. Daeyoung cannot see precisely what his face reads, but it makes him feel exposed nonetheless. He reclines into his chair when Riku is done, trying not to look at him. “There you go, so handsome,” Riku sounds so mellow, and then he stands up. He leaves without hearing Daeyoung respond.
Donghyuck is observing him with a quaint smile when Daeyoung finally turns to him. It makes him panic a little; nobody knows. But this man is a writer, so it might not be as hard for him. There is something about Donghyuck’s eyes though, something fascinating and inviting.
“Okay, resume,” Sion shouts through his mic, efficiently bringing professional politeness back into the set.
“So, Donghyuck-ssi, your upcoming—and as you say, your last—book, it promises to be the most heartbreaking story you’ve ever written. What makes it that?”
There’s a drastic shift in the man’s posture from where Daeyoung can see. “Do you know what is the sole power behind me finishing this novel, Jaehee-ssi? What made me write it despite it being physically so difficult not to fall asleep looking at words for so long?” He pauses even when the question is rhetorical. This man is a professional TV entertainer, Jaehee thinks to himself.
“Please enlighten me, sir,” Daeyoung bows slightly, playing along, making way for the man to tell his story. Donghyuck smiles at him with crescent eyes. “The muse behind it. It was a story I had to narrate. With age, and seemingly my time nearing and nearing as days go by, it felt shameful to hide my truth.”
It takes Daeyoung aback for a second. This wasn’t exactly in the script he was given, wasn’t even in the quick discussion they had before the interview. “Is this a story about you?” It comes out less professional than he likes for it to be, and he winces internally.
Donghyyck only smiles more. “Yeah, yeah, it is. It is about me, and the only person—man—I have ever loved.”
The entire set falls into silence, Daeyoung wonders if anyone is even breathing. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Riku's widened eyes boring through Donghyuck’s skull. Not a single person was ready for this, or had any hint at all.
The wind is a little strong for a March afternoon, Riku is going to scold him for messing up his face and hair—just a little, though, because Riku is too nice to him. “How old are you, Jaehee-ssi,” Donghyuck asks, offering him a cigarette.
Daeyoung bows and accepts it, fishing for the lighter in his pocket. “I will be twenty-four this year.” Donghyuck nods as Daeyoung lights up his cigarette for him. “Say, do we have time for a little story, young man?”
Seoul, 2022
“You’re such a slut, Jaemin,” Jeno snorts when Jaemin comes back with lipstick-stained mouth and tampered hair. Jaemin winks and sticks his tongue out in response, “I prefer charmer, Jeno-yah.”
Donghyuck scoffs, “Anyone wanna join me at the bar,” he asks in the general direction of the group, completely ignoring Jeno and Jaemin’s banter. But everyone else is too entertained by it to heed his words, so he makes his way alone.
He is stopped mid-way, dragged to the dance floor. “Hyuckie, come on. Let’s dance.” It is Shotaro, prettily smiling at him. It is the cause-and-effect of it all. Donghyuck really wants a drink, but Shotato looks so happy, he doesn’t have the heart to reject his offer. And, hence, takes birth the biggest part of his life.
Shotaro and Sungchan are dancing with a group of three guys, all drunk to the point of not giving any fucks. “Meet these amazing guys, hyung. This is Yangyang,” Sungchan points at a guy with freshly dyed platinum-blond hair; “this is Dejun,” he’s got his nose pierced; “and this,” he places his palm on the last guy’s shoulders and a shockwave hits Donghyuck’s feet, “is Renjun.”
Renjun has an adorable face, and a really gorgeous pair of eyes. Donghyuck stares until Renjun looks at him, and then looks at Dejun, who also has pretty eyes. But it isn’t the same. Donghyuck touches the underside of his chest. Fuck, he thinks.
“I want a drink,” Renjun announces, “does anyone wanna tag along?”
His eyes are on Donghyuck, and Donghyuck is like a dog on leash from then on.
Renjun gets a classic LIIT and Donghyuck pays for it without missing a beat, holding his own Whisky Sour in shaky hand. Renjun smiles the smile that is a stamp on Donghyuck’s loss of power and breathes out a coy gratitude. They sit on the barstools and Renjun tells him he studies marine science at the same university Donghyuck studies business management. And he tells him he is from China, from a city Donghyuck hasn’t heard of before but won’t forget now. And then he tells he loves beaches.
Donghyuck wakes up the next morning with a pretty face on his chest, hair tickling his jaw, and a cramped arm. He panics for a minute, but settles in when Renjun wakes up, puffy eyes and plumped mouth. There is a purple bloom at the juncture of his neck and something bubbles in Donghyuck for the first time in his life. A sense of possessiveness, the feeling of I did it, and I better not let anyone else do too.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” Renjun smiles at him. Donghyuck smiles back, bringing his other hand to Renjun’s waist and pulling him closer, “Good morning, yourself, cutie.” He kisses him like he is pleading for it not to be their last time, he tells himself he will deal with the consequences. Renjun kisses him back like he is promising something and all Donghyuck can actually do is melt.
“How do you like your eggs?”
Renjun’s eyes sparkle, a little mischief. Donghyuck knows he has lost any sense of control in his life then. “Isn’t that for you to figure out!”
Seoul, 2063
Daeyoung feels a little chilly. He is scheduled for his next interview in about an hour, it’s with some up-and-coming actress. “So, where was he from?” He doesn’t know why his tone is so informal out of nowhere, and Donghyuck doesn’t seem to mind.
He only scoffs and shakes his head. “Jilin. He is from Jilin.”
He nods. “And how does he like his eggs?”
“Egg drop soup.”
“Damn. How long did it take for you to figure that out?”
Donghyuck is laughing now, all noises and breaths, “Cracked it on the first go. It was a coincidence though. I made it because it used to be my hangover cure, and we really had been shit-hammered the previous night.”
“Woah,” Daeyoung exclaims, fully turning towards him now. There is something melancholic about this old man’s face, his wrinkles seem like battle scars in the sun’s light. “He must be so lucky to have you.”
That makes Donghyuck’s chin clench and he turns fully towards Daeyoung as well. “My novel wouldn’t have been a tragedy if he were, Jaehee-ssi.”
Osaka, 2024
“I love you.”
Donghyuck has sat on these words for as long as he has known Renjun, contemplated all the ways he’s wanted to say it, or the uncountable number of ways he has fought it. Two years the thought has been eating his insides, and it comes out when he doesn’t even expect; so easily.
Renjun is on his haunches, peeking into the pond to look at fishes. He looks so calm and happy, and Donghyuck is just there, three feet away, and he cannot help the vision of a family. Renjun goes still for long enough to make Donghyuck nervous.
Donghyuck is about to deflect it, by adding a platonic tone to it, but then Renjun is standing up and all in his space. “Finally. I have been waiting ever since you made me egg drop soup the first time. I love you, too.” And the next moment, Donghyuck is in his arms.
“Guess your ancestry ends at this generation!”
Donghyuck flinches and recoils, only to find Yuta smiling at them with a shit-eating grin. Sicheng is just behind Yuta, a matching smile of his own. Maybe it is them who gave Donghyuck the courage, who made his confession come out so easily.
Seoul, 2063
“So, who are Sicheng and Yuta,” Daeyoung asks when Donghyuck doesn’t continue further and gets lost in the clouds ahead. This seems to pull him out of his reverie, his smile is fond, soft. “Sicheng is Renjun’s brother. Yuta is his husband. We went to Osaka because Yuta proposed, and brought Sicheng to meet his parents. Sicheng dragged his brother for moral support, and Renjun dragged me because he didn’t want to thirdwheel.”
“They seem like nice people. The parents were okay with it?”
“Sicheng and Renjun were raised by two moms.”
“That used to be fine in early twenty-first-century China?” Daeyoung is pretty sure it must have been super difficult.
“No. They were divorced and used to live with each other as flatmates. Only people close to them knew of their relationship. And Yuta’s parents, it took some convincing, but Sicheng was too adorable to resist, it turns out.”
“So, it was your parents.” Daeyoung seems to have lost all filters.
Amsterdam, 2027
Donghyuck does expect to meet Renjun during his trip with his parents. In all honesty, he purposefully chose the place. But this isn’t how he expected it to go.
“Donghyuckie, hi,” Yuta exclaims as he approaches the table he is sitting at—with his parents—with a beaming smile. Donghyuck reflects his excitement and stands, “Yuta.” They don’t share a language per se, so they speak in broken bits of Korean, Japanese, and English; this should be fine.
Until . . . “Hyuck-ah!”
Donghyuck stiffens for a moment, knees wobbling and heart shaking.
“Renjun.”
It is curt, straightforward, quick. So unlike Donghyuck when he addresses Renjun. Renjun looks at him like Donghyuck has dunked his face in the water. “Mom, Dad, these are my . . . friends. Renjun, Yuta, and Sicheng.”
His parents are polite if nothing else. They greet them with a kind heart and even ask them to sit together. Donghyuck, if he cannot be brave, should at least stop this. But he doesn’t. He only makes space so Renjun can sit next to him, and Sicheng and Yuta grab extra chairs.
He doesn’t squeeze Renjun’s hand under the table, doesn’t lean their knees against each other. Five years of his life Renjun has given him.
“Those friends of yours are strange. I hope you’re not like them,” his mother whispers to him that evening, sitting by the beach, when his dad is gone to buy them some ice cream. “What do you mean, Mom?” He knows what she means, he knows she caught on to Sicheng and Yuta even though they were not being coupley.
“Those two boys, the taller ones, have matching rings on their ring fingers, Hyuck-ah. Your mom is old, not ignorant.”
Donghyuck sighs. “They are happy together. It isn’t hurting anyone.”
“Doesn’t make it any less weird. Are you like that, too, Donghyuckie?”
He loves his mom so much. His heart scares him with how it's hammering against his chest.
“No.”
She knows he’s lying, but she doesn’t say it.
Seoul, 2063
“Is that how it ended?”
Donghyuck laughs, “No. No, that isn’t how it ended.”
Daeyoung’s phone rings then, popping the bubble the two were in.
“Answer that,” Donghyuck simply says and faces the sky again.
“Hello.”
“Jaehee-yah, where are you? We need to get you ready in like thirty minutes,” Riku says. He sounds a little frazzled. “Ten minutes, hyung. I’ll be down in ten minutes.”
“You better. I am not going to be answerable for you. You were supposed to be with me already, dumbass.”
Daeyoung smiles, he was supposed to be with him already.
“Okay. Just get me a lemonade from the vending machine until then, please.”
He hears Riku’s giggle—exasperated but complying. “Ten minutes,” and he hangs up.
“Who ended it,” Daeyoung asks when Donghyuck doesn’t resume. He unfortunately doesn’t have time for the detailed story anymore.
“Who do you think?” Donghyuck looks straight at him, his eyes threatening to read every bit of who Daeyoung is.
“Him?”
“Yeah. Him.”
A gush of betrayal runs its course through his entire body. “Because you didn’t want to come out?”
Donghyuck catches his disturbedness. “Yeah. Because I was too cowardly to show him off to anyone except his brother and brother-in-law, and my best friend.”
“You can’t force someone to come out. It is a scary thing.” If it is so scary now, it must have been so much more terrifying back then.
“He didn’t force me. He was very kind and patient. But it happens, you know? He was so free and proud, he showed himself how he is to the world. He had to hide himself because I was hiding myself and him.”
Daeyoung looks at the floor, the cracked concrete looks harsh. “He could have waited.”
“How long could you make someone wait for you? Isn’t it unfair to ask someone to wait without being sure if the wait is ever going to end?”
“But isn’t that love—”
“We were in a relationship for thirty-one years. Both my parents had passed away by then.”
“WHAT??”
Seoul, 2055
“Mom is really sick,” Renjun says as they are standing next to each other in the kitchen. Donghyuck is focused on finely shredding the cabbage while Renjun is kneading the dough half-heartedly.
“Oh. Did she go to the doctor’s yet,” Donghyuck places the knife down to hug Renjun from behind. “Hmm. Mama was saying she had to forcefully take Mom there.” Donghyuck kisses his shoulder to comfort him. “We’ll make sure she is alright, okay? Don’t worry, baby.”
There is something very wrong with Renjun recently. Donghyuck wants to—and for the most part, does—consider it as his reaction to his mother’s constant health fluctuation. But he has three decades of experience, he cannot be that naive.
“I am going back to take care of her,” he says just as the dough is ready. A shiver runs down Donghyuck’s spine. “Oh yeah, of course. When do you plan to go? I will come with you.”
“I am going forever, Donghyuck-ah.”
He pulls Renjun in closer, Renjun doesn’t resist. “You’re breaking up with me,” he states, no bite, no anger, no disappointment. He never thought a broken man was a numb one.
“I don’t want to, and I can’t stop loving you. But I am so tired, I am not a young boy anymore. Can’t seem to keep rainbow-and-sunshine hopes.”
“But I love you so much. How will I live without you?”
He feels Renjun shrinking in his arms, his head drops on Donghyuck’s shoulders. “You have been doing fine so far. You’re a celebrity, so successful and loved.”
“But you are my whole world.”
Renjun laughs at that, all watery and angry. He pushes Donghyuck away and escapes. He is on the other side of the counter now, his eyes filled with tears. “Thirty-three years I have given to you, Donghyuck. Not one day have I felt like I am your whole world. I understand that you are afraid, but how long do you expect me to keep doing this? You know this is not me. I cannot even tell people I am gay because that could create rumours about you. How longer?”
Donghyuck has nothing to say.
“I don’t want to give you an ultimatum, and I’d hate for you to come out just for me. But I can’t help but always feel that you hate what we have. You can never accept this fully. I know I am privileged to have queer parents who are supportive and understanding. But at some point, that should stop being an excuse. You tell the public you’re not married because you have not found anyone suitable yet and you dare say you cannot live without me?”
He says so many things that night, everything that changes Donghyuck forever. Perhaps things that he should have said way sooner, when Donghyuck could have saved this relationship.
But he walks out of their apartment two days later, he kisses Donghyuck deeply, his arms pull Donghyuck by his neck like they’re begging him to hold on to him. “I have always loved you, and I always will,” he says when he pulls back. “Find me if you find yourself, if you’d want to.”
And then he is gone. No contact.
A few days later, Yuta texts him.
Quite a historic man you are. This is the kind of fumble you see only once ever.
Fucking dumbass.
Seoul, 2063
This man Yuta was so right. “He is still waiting for you?” It is not so much a question as it is a shock. Daeyoung was on Donghyuck’s side just three minutes ago, and now he thinks Renjun is so stupid for ruining his own life this way.
“When someone loves you, Daeyoung-ssi, they can go to incomprehensible lengths for you. Be it taking the blame for you being late or staying as a dirty little secret for half their life. You can be cowardly and play it safe, or you take the leap and not regret. Being queer is scary, but it is also sometimes who you are. You can only hate yourself for so long. Isn’t it a little stupid to forsake someone who loves you for people who like a version of you?”
Daeyoung takes a step back and looks at the sky. The sun is peeking from behind the clouds, its light still warm. “Daeyoung-ssi, don’t be a fumbler like me. We live in better times now, though not completely great, but at least you can legally marry.”
Daeyoung cannot help but laugh then. “Wow. Are you going to find him?”
Donghyuck laughs this time. “I am the luckiest man in the world,” he answers, showing the screen of his phone to Daeyoung. There are two simple words there. They are from an unknown number, but it isn’t hard to figure.
Fucking dumbass >_<
Daeyoung is in front of Riku three minutes before what he promised. Riku is surprised to see him, and smiles. He is so pretty.
“Your hair is a mess,” he sighs as he pushes Daeyoung to sit on the chair. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
“We do, actually,” Daeyoung replies and closes his eyes.
At the end of the day, he finds Riku in the green room, alone. He is on a call, talking animatedly in Japanese, and gestures to Daeyoung to wait for two minutes.
“I am sorry, it was my dads,” he apologizes when he hangs up, and sits on the chair next to where Daeyoung is sitting. Daeyoung raises an eyebrow. “You have two dads?”
Riku laughs at that, not with malice. “Yeah. Why? Something wrong with it?”
“No, it’s just. I am getting deja vu.”
Riku gives him a questioning look, a cute pout in place. Daeyoung giggles.
“What made you find me,” Riku asks, leaning completely against the back of his chair.
Daeyoung’s heart stutters.
“What are you doing this Sunday?”
Riku sits back straight—slowly—with a confused but surprised stare. “Erm, I don’t know? I guess I am just gonna do some laundry or something.”
“Oh, um, yeah. Doing laundry is important. Can you maybe reschedule that to Saturday?”
Riku snorts out a laugh. “If I have a good reason to,” he answers, now seemingly sure of the direction of this conversation.
“Fair enough. So, there is this art cafe I have been meaning to try,” Riku’s eyes light up. “Do you wanna maybe go with me?”
Riku smiles brightly, so many teeth, so beautiful teeth.
“Text me the details.”
Amsterdam, 2064
“Baby, Baba just texted me that my uncle and his spouse are going to be there, too. I am sorry I didn’t know,” Riku whines as they are walking towards the baggage claim.
“Why are you sorry about that? The more gay people, the merrier,” he says, pulling Riku into his arms by the shoulders. “You were just nervous about meeting my parents. My uncle is going to give you a harder time than them.”
“But they’ll see how much I love you and it’ll all be fine,” Daeyoung leans to kiss Riku’s cheeks, but Riku pushes him away. “Dumbass,” he mumbles, but the pink rush on the points of his ears betray him.
He has spoken to Riku’s Baba once on call, for a few seconds. He was sweet and kind, but meeting boyfriend’s parents is always a little nerve-wracking.
“Dad,” Riku jumps in excitement into his dad’s arms when the door is opened. For a moment, Daeyoung wonders if Riku is his biological son, the similarities are uncanny. But then, Riku’s baba walks out as well and Daeyoung’s jaw drops.
“You look like both of them,” he whispers into Riku’s ear when they walk inside. Nobody else probably knows Korean though, so he could have just said it loudly. Riku swats his arm with a laugh. “I know, right,” comes a new voice from the couch—in Korean—and Daeyoung almost runs out of the house. “I have a theory that Sicheng actually birthed him, but I don’t know how to prove it.”
“Shut the fuck up, Donghyuckie. Don’t scare the poor boy away,” comes another voice from the couch. This person looks up and right into Daeyoung, and his jaw drops, too. “Riku’s boyfriend is the celebrity interviewer?”
Beside him, Riku looks just as taken aback, “You’re the mystery beloved of fucking Lee Donghyuck?”
“Renjun-ssi,” Daeyoung says, a laugh bubbling in his chest. What the fuck?
“Did you know about this,” Renjun looks at Donghyuck promptly, who only smiles smugly. “You’re welcome,” he mouths to Daeyoung before he looks at Renjun. “I got to know when you mentioned your nephew Riku is bringing home his boyfriend Daeyoung like a week ago.”
“Your parents are Yuta and Sicheng!” Riku looks at him with furrowed eyebrows.
“Were you with him,” Riku points at Donghyuck, “after your interview with him was over? Did he inspire you to ask me out?”
Daeyoung looks at Donghyuck, now coming to terms with everything. “Yeah, I didn’t want to turn out like him!”
Renjun laughs loudly at that, slapping Donghyuck’s shoulder and falling on his lap. Donghyuck catches him gently and ruffles his hair. So into him, he seems to have learnt his lesson. He is very vocal about his sexuality from what he has seen.
“Can you fill us non-Korean-associates in, please? Riku’s dad, Yuta, says, in Japanese. God bless Daeyoung’s mother for making him actually study Japanese in school. Sicheng looks just as confused standing next to him.
“Your parents are a visual couple,” he tells Riku.
Riku winks at him, a genuine smile sparkling on him. “Wait until you see them in their prime. Dad says Baba was the prettiest ballerino in the country, and he isn’t exaggerating.”
“I’ll tell you,” Donghyuck offers. “You guys go get freshened up,” he addresses Daeyoung and Riku.
“I love you so much,” Daeyoung says as soon as they are in Riku’s bedroom.
Riku blushes, looks at the floor. “I love you, too,” he replies.
Daeyoung pulls him by his hands and kisses him passionately. He hopes they are always happy together.
“I don’t often tell you how grateful I am to you,” Donghyuck says, hovering over Renjun’s head.
“You say it every day,” Renjun pouts, melting his head further into Donghyuck’s lap.
“And I’ll say it more. I love you, thank you for taking me back.”
Renjun smiles, Donghyuck’s eyes prickle. “I love you, too. Always have, always will, baby.”
“Both my babies get with celebrities, huh!” Sicheng giggles and drops his head on Yuta’s shoulders. “We need to get this hammock replaced, it’s getting old.”
Yuta scoffs. “But it is strong, and pretty, and swings really well. I love sitting here with you.”
Sicheng has a serene smile on his face, and his eyes are closed. Yuta kisses his forehead.
“I love you,” Yuta says, and Sicheng wraps an arm around his torso. “I love you, too. Let’s get buried next to each other.”