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Sep 5, 2017

Cloudy With A Chance

Part 22: …of just you.

Masterlist

There’s silence from Hanbin’s parents. He’s surprised but grateful for the emotional reprieve because God knows they both needed it badly.

The tension in Hanbin’s shoulders slowly melts away after awhile, like he’s just too tired to think about that anymore, like he’s closed that book and put it back on the shelf to revisit at some other time when he’s ready for it.

They distract themselves with other things. Hanbin helps him move back in and it’s organised chaos all over again but at least when he falls to sleep at night, it feels exactly like it used to. Like life goes back to normal again.

Sort of.

His hand is still broken and at some point he knows he’s going to have to tell the garage that it’s going to take longer than 2 weeks to heal. He doesn’t really know what to do about that but the relief of moving back into Hanbin’s apartment and life momentarily drowns out all the worries that float around his head.

Hanbin worries enough for the both of them anyway.

“When are we going to tell the garage? There are other options though right? I’m sure there are options. There are always options.” Hanbin says as he gets their dinner ready. “I’ll think of something.”

“Since when were you the optimistic one?” He asks, stealing a piece of cucumber from the chopping board.

“Since I agreed to stay with you.” Hanbin smirks. “It’s necessary for survival.”

It’s just a broken hand but it changes so many things. Hanbin was always better at feeding them and he still does that but the meals start coming pre-cut and pre-sliced into bite sized pieces, like his mum used to do for him as a kid. The chopsticks and knives are gone, replaced by forks and scissors that only need one functioning hand to operate. The slippery glass tumblers stay in the cupboard and suddenly they’re drinking out of mugs with thick handles because his left hand is too uncoordinated and Hanbin gets tired of cleaning juice off the counter.

“Why don’t you just get me a sippy cup?” He jokes.

“They didn’t have them in adult sizes.” Hanbin says casually.

“Jesus, Hanbin. I was kidding…..”

Things in the bathroom change too. The Disney toothbrush gets replaced with an electric one. All the bars of soap get replaced by the liquid versions that come out of those pump bottles. But the one thing that can’t be replaced with an appliance is his ability to wash his hair properly and reach the other side of his body. As it turns out, Hanbin thought of a solution for that too.

They’re in the bath again and he’s sitting between Hanbin’s legs, just quietly savouring the feeling of having someone else washing his hair and taking care of him like he was something worth taking care of.

“How’s the hand?” Hanbin asks.

He looks at it in the warm soapy water. It was already healing and most of the swelling had gone down. “It’s okay.”

Soft considerate fingers trace around all the tattoos on his back; the cross, the code, the quote that Hanbin still hasn’t asked him about.

“Think you can shower yourself now?”

“Well. I haven’t really tried to….I don’t want to like re-injure it or anything now that it’s better. Not that it’s really better. It’s still broken….”

He mumbles his way through a too-long-too-vague answer and he can hear the amusement in Hanbin’s voice.

“If you like the baths, just say it Jiwon.”

“I like the baths.” He admits, mostly to himself because Hanbin just laughs and calls him lame.

I like being close to you.

****

Being unemployed is good for a short amount of time. As soon as Hanbin kisses him goodbye and leaves for work, he binge watches TV shows, anime, movies, rap documentaries and animal planet. He eats all the boxes of food Hanbin leaves in the fridge for him and laughs at the notes that get written across across the lids.

[this is for lunch, you better not be eating this now xh]

But after awhile, his brain starts to go stale and it’s time to deal with the long list of things he’s been ignoring for the past two weeks: work, new verses for the upcoming mic night, trying not to screw up their relationship for a third time…

He picks the lesser of the three evils and opens up a blank note page on his phone.

Minutes pass but nothing comes out. The cursor blinks with hopeful expectation but no inspiration. He told Hanbin about the next mic night over breakfast, downplaying the significance because there’s no reason for both of them to be nervous wrecks all week. Now that he’s alone, he lets his mind chew through all the thoughts: it wasn’t just another rap battle, it was a showcase without prizes but rumours have been circulating that there would be a few hidden record scouts there looking for the next underground wildcard. He can’t fuck it up. Not again.

There’s a big window in their bedroom that overlooks the streets below. In the evening he knows Hanbin likes to sit and watch the sunset over the rooftops with that unreadable expression on his face. Another faraway look from a faraway place that he will never know about. But that’s okay. That’s one for Hanbin to keep to himself.

He’s always written better with pen and paper and crawls over to their wardrobe to dig around his bag for the Cinderella notebook that Hanbin let him steal.

And that’s when he sees it, right at the very back and behind all their clothes and shoes, there’s a box that he doesn’t remember being there before.

It’s full of Hanbin’s research papers for the book he was writing. There are pages and pages of printed out references, scrawled reminders on the back of old envelopes, ideas on dog-eared post-it notes and a copy of Norwegian Wood so battered that the spine was barely attached to the worn-out cover. There’s a folded piece of paper used as a bookmark, it looks like a page torn from a notebook, the writing faded in pencil, the paper uneven, like it got wet then dried then got wet again.

He doesn’t want to read it.

He knows he shouldn’t.

But he does.

No matter how far you travel, you can never get away from yourself.

I tried but at every corner I still find the old me, the one you will get bored of, forget and walk away from.

Maybe I will find you again somewhere across the Universe.

-H.M

He tucks the note back into the old pages of the book and pushes the box back into the shadows of their wardrobe.

Then he sits, exactly where Hanbin does in the afternoons, and looks out the same window and across the same rooftops. The quiet waves of melancholia lap at his feet and he feels so protective of this fragile thing between them, now more than ever, but at the same time, it always walks hand-in-hand with all his frustrations.

Why can’t he make Hanbin any happier? How many days pass where he fails to convince Hanbin that he will never leave again? Will they go through the rest of their lives caught in some exhausting one-sided story? Will he spend the next 20 years repeating the same words over and over until Hanbin pretends to believe him?

He writes his verses after that. All five of them.

The world doesn’t change just because he’s in a different mood. There’s no bittersweet sunset to stare at or sad orchestra playing, there’s just clear blue sky, the rustling of trees and the reassuring flow of everyday traffic. Life goes on. He needs to remember that. He needs to let Hanbin be who he needs to be and maybe that person is just someone who just needs to write out all his feelings in order to make sense of them.

That’s something they have in common.

****

At some point his mic nights become a family affair, like birthdays, doctors appointments and Christmas. The dates written down in Yoyo’s diary, typed into June’s schedule at the tattoo shop and circled in red on Hanbin’s calendar.

He’d never tell June out loud, he’s not ready to be laughed at for 2 years again, but they are his new family now. He’s floated through life for so long, pulled along by gravity and the flow of the current, that he forgot what it felt like to have a family-one that doesn’t just grab at his foot and drag him back down to Earth but one that just lets him keep floating to wherever he wants to float to and gives him a string to tie to his finger so he can find his way home when he needs to.

He’s grateful for all of them.

Sort of.

“Didn’t you say it was a showcase? Why aren’t you wearing that shirt I got you at Christmas? Instead of….whatever this is.” Yo points condescendingly at the white shirt he buttons up. “What if you get signed? Don’t you want to look your best?”

He rolls up the sleeves, just enough to clear Richard Parker’s tail. “No, I just want to look like myself? If they’re gonna sign me, I want them to know what they’re getting.”

Yoyo rolls his eyes and June snorts in the background. They were truly one person. “Yes and it doesn’t matter who wins right? Because just competing is enough?” June says sarcastically. “What kind of hippie bullshit….”

Hanbin comes out of their bedroom in blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a black jacket hanging off one shoulder. They all stop talking at the same time. He can’t look at Hanbin through anything other than slightly delusional rose-coloured filters so it’s reassuring in a way, to know Hanbin has a similar effect on other people.

He knows he’s not the superstar in their relationship.

“What?” Hanbin asks, fingers pulling at the sleeves of his jacket nervously.

Yoyo clears his throat. “Your boyfriend looks like a scrub. Why does he insist on wearing that white shirt all the time?”

Hanbin looks over at him with that adorably confused expression that makes him want to walk over and bite his cheek. “But I like that shirt?”

He gives Hanbin a wink, which earns him a blush that he hasn’t seen in a long time. It takes him back to that day they spent in June’s tattoo shop getting Richard Parker inked and shaded. Back then, he had no idea what was going to happen. But back then he thinks his heart probably already knew.

“Disgusting.” June mutters. “If you’re done with the eye-fucking, we need to get going.”

Yoyo kicks at his ankle. “June!”

“What?! They’re doing it right in front of me and my vodka!”

Hanbin blushes even harder and walks out into the living room with his head down. Yoyo follows him, shaking his head in June’s direction but trying not to laugh at the same time.

He shoots June his dirtiest glare. “Are you done embarrassing me today?”

June looks at his watch. “But it’s only 7pm?”

He grabs his jacket and groans. “Let’s just go.”

“Whatever you say Romeo.”

The walk to the train station is full of bickering, as usual. By the time they get to the club and he can see the other rappers in their new snapbacks and gold chains, he suddenly wishes he made a bit more of an effort after all.

Hanbin watches his face and leans in next to his ear. “Gold chains don’t get record deals. There’s nobody like you except you.”

It echoes in his ears long after he leaves Hanbin to go backstage and he can still hear it, right up to the moment when Bobby steps out into the spotlight.

Look for me - Young, B Cruisin down the westside - high, way Doing what we like to do - our, way Eyes behind shades, this necklace the reason all of my dates been blind dates But today, I got my thoroughest guy with me I’m mashin the gas, he’s grabbin the wheel, it’s trippy how hard He rides with me - the new Bobby and B Only time we don’t speak is during “E and the City” He gets tech fever, but soon as the show is over He’s right back to being a soldier Cuz baby’s a rider, and I’m a roller Put us together, how they gon’ stop both us? What ever he lacks, I’m right over his shoulder When I’m off track, he’s keepin me focused So let’s, lock this down like it’s supposed to be

The OG Bonnie and Clyde, Bobby and B.I

-Original Lyrics by J.Z

He’s barely stepped behind the curtains when a hand pulls him into the darkness. A wet mouth presses insistently against his and he’s about to push away out of shock but…..no, he knows that mouth, the way it feels, the way it tastes, how hard it bites, how soft it sighs…

“You wrote me a song?” Hanbin asks in a breathless whisper.

“Yeah. Happy Birthday, baby.”

“My birthday is tomorrow.”

“Yeah but you’re ruining the moment right now.”

“Oh, are we having a moment?”

“Yeah we are.”

“Who’s B.I?”

“My other boyfriend. The one who doesn’t ruin moments.”

“He sounds boring.”

“I know. You’re better.” He says, pulling Hanbin in for another kiss. “Can I take you home now?”

Hanbin bites at his lower lip. “Yes.”

They’re barely two steps away when Hanbin stops in his tracks. “Wait. We can’t leave now. There are record company people here. Right now. They might be looking for you. What if they’re looking for you?”

He shakes his head, he doesn’t care, he just wants warm skin underneath his fingers as soon as possible. “If they want to find me, they’ll find me.”

Hanbin catches his wandering hands, holding them still and looking right into his eyes with that kind of unwavering determination that annoys him and turns him on the same time. “No. I’m not letting you make stupid decisions because you’re not thinking with your head.”

“I am….”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am!” He protests, even as his tries to pull Hanbin towards him again. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Hanbin grips his hands tighter and doesn’t let either of them move. “If you stay here a bit longer, I’ll let you do whatever you want later…..”

His mouth goes dry and he stares dumbly at Hanbin’s face for an awkwardly long amount of time.

Later?

What does he mean, later?

How much later?

“Jiwon?”

He scowls and grunts in reply.

“Promise?”

He pulls his fingers out of Hanbin’s hands. “Yeah yeah. I hate you for this.”

Hanbin smiles and leans forward to kiss him again. “I know you do.”

He lets Hanbin straighten up his clothes and attempt to tidy his hair before pushing him back out into the crowd.

“They don’t just sign people up at these mic nights, you know. That’s not how it works.” He says as some fans come up to shake his hand. “They’re just here to check people out.”

“I know. But just stay anyway.” Hanbin says as he puts a friendlier amount of distance between them. “And don’t get all touchy. In case someone is watching.”

“So you’re just gonna be the boss of me now?”

“Since when were you the boss before?” Hanbin replies with an arrogant smirk.

But he does what he’s told. Hanbin gets him a drink and leaves him to talk to the fans that want to meet him, the other rappers who are still talking his punch-up and funnily enough, all the girls who are blatantly trying to hit him up even though he’s pretty sure there are all kinds of rumours about him going round.

Every now and then his eyes search for Hanbin, eventually finding him sitting at the bar with June and Yoyo, all three watching him and trying not to laugh when a small pretty blonde starts stroking his arm.

But a promise is a promise.

Sure he wants a record deal. He wants that more than he wants most things.

But he wants Hanbin as well.

He wants Hanbin more than he wants a record deal.

Not that he’ll ever say that out loud.

He’s not ready for an ass-kicking.

When the night ends, he’s half drunk and talked to so many people that he can barely remember anything but Hanbin’s satisfied so he must have done something right.

“Heard you scored, Jiwon?” June teases him as they walk to the train station.

“I didn’t score. Bobby scored.” He pulls out three scraps of paper with messily scrawled phone numbers on them and let’s the scraps fly off his fingers into the night.

He curses Hanbin for getting him drunk and making him stay in the club for so long because as soon as they’re on the train, he’s leaning heavily against the window, ready to just go straight to sleep.

“It’s your birthday soon.” He says, trying desperately to stay awake. “There’s a cool bar-”

“No. We need to go home. You look like shit.” Hanbin says, pulling him over so he’s leaning on a warm shoulder instead of a cold window.

“No, I’m okay!” He says with as much enthusiasm as he can muster, feeling the exaggerated way he’s blinking and just knowing Hanbin sees right through it all. “I went to check it out already. I told the guy we’d be come back and he said he’d make you a birthday drink. We should have a midnight toast because you were born and it’s kind of awesome that you were born and…”

Hanbin just laughs and tucks him under his arm. “We can go some other time okay? I need to take you home.”

There are a million protests in his head and he remembers seeing the stations fly by outside the window, further and further away from the bar where he wanted to take Hanbin tonight. But as always, sleep is always the true winner.

****

Jiwon is gone by the time he wakes up. It’s nearly 11am and he’s glad neither of them have anywhere to go today.

He lays in the warm sheets, scrolling through all the birthday message he gets on his phone, the smile never leaving his face until he gets to the most recent one.

It’s a message from his mother. His finger pauses over it for longer than he wanted it to. But it was just a normal birthday message. He reads it with relief and a tinge of guilt for how everything turned out. He sends her a reply, maybe an olive branch disguised as a monkey emoticon, because there’s no other person on earth who has known him for longer.

She sends back a message instantly. It’s a photo of his sister, holding up a drawing of a dog. Well, there’s always a silver lining in everything. He saves the photo and sets it as his phone wallpaper.

****

He’s getting dressed when he notices it, the impatient way Jiwon hovers around him.

“What is it?”

“Nothing nothing, you’re just taking ages.”

“It’s a Saturday.”

“But it’s your birthday! I have..things planned.”

Instead of being excited, he feels the anxiety creeping in around them “What did you do?”

“It’s a surprise?”

“What kind of surprise?”

Right on cue he can hear the ring of their doorbell. He looks across at Jiwon in alarm.

“Stay here. I’ll get it.” Jiwon says hurriedly and runs out of the room.

“What? No. What if it’s-”

But it wasn’t.

He can hear a voice he doesn’t recognise and plastic bags crinkling before the door closes again. He can hear Jiwon pottering around their kitchen, opening and closing a few too many cupboards and then there’s just silence as Jiwon shuffles back into their bedroom and stands in their doorway looking uncharacteristically nervous.

“I…um, did something. But you have to close your eyes.”

His heart thumps heavily as he closes his eyes and lets Jiwon take him by the hand, leading him to their kitchen and gently pushing him into his chair.

“Okay….you can open them now. And don’t laugh!”

It’s a whole table of food, which he’s already confused about, but on the kitchen bench there’s a glass vase with a big dense bunch of light and dark pink roses.

He doesn’t even know what to say.

This is the closest thing he’s ever had to a birthday party that didn’t involve his parents.

Jiwon chews his lip in worry. “Hanbin? You okay? I know you probably didn’t want a big party or anything so I thought we’d just hang out here today. Unless you do want a party because I can probably-”

His eyes flick up to meet Jiwon’s nervous pair. “No! I want this. I don’t want more people.”

“Thought so.” Jiwon reaches across the table to brush some damp strands of hair from his face. “Okay, so….I didn’t know what you felt like eating so I just kinda got everything. Don’t worry, I didn’t cook any of it. We’re not spending your birthday at the hospital.”

It takes him 30 seconds to locate the fork Jiwon set down for him and another five minutes before he can start chewing normally. The pink roses stay in his peripheral vision and he can’t stop looking at them.

“They’re for you.”

“They’re….really nice.” He says before mentally kicking himself. That’s not what he wanted to say at all.

“Yeah I thought so too. Jiyoon made it, said she remembered you.”

“Jiyoon? Who’s that?”

“Our florist lady.”

“The florist?” He echoes, mind suddenly reeling as it jumps back in time. “She remembered me?”

Jiwon nods and takes a sip of tea from a Mickey Mouse mug. “Yeah, she thought you looked like a cute drowned rat.”

“Well, it was raining!” He grumbles. “Did she remember you?”

“Not as much. Just that she thought I was gonna steal the baby ferns. She was kinda surprised when I told her why I was there.”

He reaches for the Mickey Mouse mug and sips at the hot jasmine tea. “Surprised? In what way?”

“Well, that we ended up like this. Isn’t it weird to think that a random stranger saw all that? She’s the last person to see me before I met you. She’s really cool though. She was like, “You owe me! You should name your first born after me!”

Jiwon laughs but when he doesn’t join it, it fades into a nervous chuckle. “Anyways, it’s just a joke. I told her you liked flowers and she asked me a bunch of really personal questions before she made that.”

He looks at the pink roses again. Pink roses mean gratitude, appreciation, admiration…..love.

Nobody has ever given him flowers. Or done anything on his birthday. Or joked about their future kids together. He suddenly wants to know what Jiwon told the florist.

“Hanbin? Can you say something because I’m beginning to think you hate everything.”

He tears his eyes from the roses and shakes his head, not realising he’d been silent for so long.

“What? No. No no no.” He reaches across to hold Jiwon’s good hand. “I love this. I love everything. I’m just…..so…..shocked you did it. I don’t really know what to say, that’s all. But I love everything Jiwon, I do. I promise.”

He gives Jiwon his dimpliest smile and the toothy lopsided one he gets back is already his favourite part of today. “Okay, good.”

After a lunch that stretches on for way too long, Jiwon suggests that they go for a slow walk around the neighbourhood. He’s lived in the same area for two years but he’s never really explored the surrounding streets and he’s definitely never done it with another person beside him. It all felt strangely new and its domestic mundaneness excites some weird part of him that he hasn’t figured out yet.

Half way through the walk, they pass a playground full of kids and he gets that weird feeling again as he replays all the things Jiwon has said about them before. Something must come out on his face because he feels fingers hanging onto a few of his, discreet and hidden by the sleeves between them.

Jiwon doesn’t say anything and he’s never been so grateful for the silence because he doesn’t know how he’ll ever bring this topic up. He knows it’s a feeling that just burns brighter and brighter the longer they’re together and if the thought of a long-term relationship scared him, it’s nothing compared to how he feels about their future.

But he wants them to have a future.

They need to have one.

He lets go of Jiwon’s fingers and slides their hands together. Fuck discretion. It’s his birthday, he’ll do what he wants.

Jiwon must understand because he pulls up their joined hands to place a kiss across his knuckles.

He doesn’t know long they walk for but it’s late afternoon when Jiwon starts leading them back.

“Are you hungry?”

He shakes his head.

“Wanna go home?”

“Yeah.”

He wanted to snuggle on the couch and watch Evangelion but Jiwon bundles him up in one of his oversized hoodies and a soft blue blanket.

“It’s not that cold.”

“Not here. We’re going up to the roof, it might get cold up there.”

“The roof? Why are we going up there?”

Jiwon shrugs. “Don’t know. Come find out.”

He knew they had a roof but he’s never had any reason to go up there. When Jiwon unlocks the door and the light breeze hits him, he wishes he asked about it all those years ago. The sky was a deep mellow peach haze, the city buzzes on in the distance but it was calm over the rooftops of their neighbourhood as people were finishing their Sundays and beginning their Sunights.

There’s a bench where they sit, facing the city and just watching as the sun sinks lower and lower in the horizon. He leans against Jiwon’s shoulder and sighs, knowing it’s loud and that it’d be heard. He doesn’t care. He hopes Jiwon heard.

There’s a kiss against his temple, which he expected, and another one across the back of his hand, which he didn’t.

They sit for so long that the sky turns into a deep indigo and the first of the city lights begin twinkling from the tallest buildings.

Jiwon pulls his arm away and makes to get up.

“No, I don’t want to go yet.”

“I know. I’m just going to turn the lights on.”

There are hundreds of them.

Hundred and hundreds of tiny fairy lights fitted across the walls and beams and draped over all the ugly structures that would normally be there during the day.

Jiwon disappears back into their building for a few minutes and he’s left alone in his thoughts. It feels like a dream or at least some alternate reality that he can’t quite believe. With the dark open sky around him, it feels like he’s sitting right in the middle of the Universe, surrounded by a million stars. He feels small. His problems feel small. Small and insignificant under such a vast sky. It heals something inside him that he can’t explain.

Jiwon comes back carrying a white box.

“I didn’t even know they had any lights up here.” He says as Jiwon rests the box in his lap.

“They didn’t.” Comes the cryptic reply.

He looks down as the plain cardboard. “What’s this?”

“Don’t know, open it.” Jiwon says with a shrug.

It’s a blue Snoopy cake.

Somewhere between the adorably juvenile and slightly gaudy design and the thought that Jiwon actually went somewhere and bought him a kid’s birthday cake, he’s so overcome with affection that the only thing he can do is laugh.

Jiwon narrows his eyes. “What?! What!”

“Is this a kid’s cake?”

“Well…yeah but do you like it?”

“I love it.”

Jiwon sets the cake onto the small table in front of them and pulls a candle and lighter from his pocket. “Good. Because June said I was an idiot for getting it.”

He watches everything with a stupid smile on his face and warmest glow in his chest.

“Okay. Make a wish, I’m gonna take a photo.”

“No, I hate photos!” He whines out of habit.

Jiwon just rolls his eyes. “Seriously? You’re really gonna throw a tantrum right now?”

But he’s too ridiculously, deliriously, insanely happy to argue so he just leans forward to blow out the candle and wish for an impossible future. Jiwon can take as many photos as he wants.

There’s only one spoon so they take turns feeding each other straight from the box. Birthday cake for dinner. Since when did Jiwon know him this well.

“Want your present now?”

He licks some of the blue icing off his hand and looks over. “This whole day wasn’t the present?”

“Nope.”

There’s another box in his lap. Plain again, without any bows or ribbons or card. Completely unassuming. He doesn’t know why he’s so anxious about what’s in it. He suddenly doesn’t want to open it and he doesn’t know why.

“It’s okay. Open it.” Jiwon says gently.

And there, underneath layers of white tissue paper, is a first edition of Norwegian Wood. Straight from 1987. Signed. Dated. Certified.

“Where did you get this?” He asks, blood draining from his head and voice strangely shaky and grim. “How did you get this?”

“I just asked for it?” Jiwon says with a shrug.

He touches the cover reverently. There’s no other book he’s read more often. His knows his old copy is lying somewhere in the back of their wardrobe, completely worn-out and falling apart.

“But this is the first edition. How did you get this? Doesn’t it cost-”

“-do you like it though? Why does it matter how I got it?”

“Because I wanna know!”

Jiwon shrugs again. “I know people who know some other people and I got it.”

The most irrational paranoid thoughts suddenly fill his head. “You got this legally right? You’re not missing a liver or have some crazy life debt right?

Jiwon laughs at the absurdity of his question. “No. I got it legally and I’m not missing a liver….just a kidney.”

He just shakes his head in disbelief. “I love this book.”

“I know.”

He folds the layers of tissue paper over it and closes the lid before placing it a safe distance away on the table beside them.

“Don’t you want to read the thing I wrote in it?”

He shakes his head and climbs into Jiwon’s lap. “Later.”

He loves kissing Jiwon. He loves the way it starts, all nervous surprise and butterflies before it deepens into a hot warm mess that sucks all the life and thoughts out of him, only to give it back when he can feel Jiwon’s tongue trying to lick his mouth open. He always falls so hard, so fast and so far. He always feels so high and out of his mind. He always feels so in love.

“Thank you.” He murmurs, in between kisses. “Thank you for everything. You’re never gonna know what it means to me because I don’t even know what to say.”

Jiwon holds his face between his hands, one normal and one a little bit broken, just like them.

“Did you have a good day?”

“I had the best day.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you wish for?”

“Can’t tell you. Might not come true.”

Jiwon scoffs. “No. If you tell me, I’ll make it come true.”

“No.”

“Come on, please? I wanna know.”

He rests his head against Jiwon’s chest as the blue blanket gets wrapped around them again. “It was just you. I wished for you.”

“But you already got me.”

“Well, just in case. I wished for it twice.”

Jiwon laughs at him. “Wasted a birthday wish on something you already got? Geez, Hanbin. We need to talk about how birthday wishes work.”

That weird feeling was back. The one that just won’t go away and makes him feel a million years older than just 25.

“It’s….not really something you can get at a store.” He says hesitantly, not knowing how to even talk about something like this.

“It’s okay. Whatever it is. I’ll get it for you.” Jiwon says with the kind of steadfast confidence that always makes his heart skip a beat. “I got that book didn’t I? I can get you anything.”

“It’s so stupid, just lame really but….I just….wished that I could have a proper family….” His heart races in his chest and he feels more exposed that he has ever felt before. He wants to see the look on Jiwon’s face but at the same time, he really doesn’t.

“But you got that already too.”

**** It’s 3:40am.

It’s not his birthday anymore but he’s in their kitchen eating the rest of the Snoopy cake and still staring at the pink roses in disbelief. He moves them to the dinner table and lets his fingers run across their velvety petals until they hit the pointy corner of a card that’s hidden in the middle.

[22 -for every week I’ve known and loved you. Happy Birthday baby. xxj]

22.

He does the maths.

22 takes them right back to the beginning.

To the time he spent watching Jiwon get Richard Parker inked and shaded. Jiwon knew? Even back then?

The tears are already half way down his face before he really registers them.

He wonders what Murakami would say about him now: a 25 year old writer, sitting in an empty kitchen in the middle of the night with a half eaten kid’s cake and crying over a handwritten card.

He crawls back into bed, physically and emotionally drained in the best possible way. Jiwon’s sleep heavy arms automatically draw him back into the warmth again.

“I love you.” He whispers, not knowing if Jiwon was awake or not.

I love you more than everything.

****

Soundtrack: Across The Universe -Fiona Apple (Beatles cover) | 03 Bonnie and Clyde -Jay Z feat. Beyonce | Brooklyn Baby -LDR

#Cloudy With A Chance #listen to that Jay Z song if you don't know how that rap goes #I love Fiona so much #can you believe her last name and this cover makes so much sense to this dumb story?!#maths is important #22 weeks is almost 6 months #richard parker does maths okay #and makes apple pies apparently #ha haaa #text #cwac #double b #ikon #hanbin #bobby #fic

mvssmallow