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Juwon stuffed his hands into his pockets. Then dragged a hand over his face, brows knitted in concentration and then he ran them through his hair-- which in hindsight was not a good idea because they were covered in flour.
It was 5 am on a Saturday morning and Juwon had snuck out of bed to try, key word here: try to bake a cake for Dongsik's birthday.
Juwon was a good chef. He could braise meat and saute vegetables and Dongsik was telling him that he was getting better at making Korean food (Juwon didn't know if he was lying or if he really liked eating his jajangmyeon noodles which Juwon was convinced were overcooked and under seasoned).
He paced around the kitchen as he added the baking soda and a pinch of salt. He was going to make carrot cake because for Dongsik's last birthday that was what they got from Manyang’s little bakery. Juwon remembered Dongsik squeezing his hand with a big grin on his face as he tapped the glass above a brown carrot cake.
As they walked back from the bakery, Juwon couldn't help side eyeing Dongsik as he held the cake in his hands. Dongsik was beaming but Juwon still felt as if he should ask. Ask what? Are you sad you're celebrating your birthday without your twin? Do you miss her? Have you really stopped crying at night or have you gotten better at hiding it?
He thought these questions to be horribly invasive. And Dongsik was one of those persons who, if they wanted to tell you something, would find a way to do so. Even if it meant laying their head in your lap as you tried to read a book or picking the spoon out of your hand as you tried to cook. Dongsik would always find a way to get what was in his mind, out.
When they got home that day, Dongsik requested a happy birthday song to which Juwon agreed (he got a kiss after, so it was worth it). Dongsik blew his candles out and they cut into the cake.
They had sat down at their dinner table with two steaming mugs of coffee and plates of frosted carrot cake propped in their laps. Dongsik took a bite of cake, stopped, took another bite and buried his head in his hands. Juwon had been very startled at that point, wondering if he was having an allergic reaction. He reached out and touched his hand across the table and Dongsik took his hand as he cried. Dongsik’s tears were warm on his hand and his hands were cold-- cold and trembling. Dongsik said no more and Juwon did not ask. He knew Dongsik would tell him when he was ready.
Juwon was wondering whether carrot cake this year was a good idea. It could either 1) make Dongsik cry again for an unknown reason or 2) let him know that Han Juwon was his partner and that he remembered everything Lee Dongsik did and would always, always be there for him, and this year if he wanted to talk about it, Han Juwon would listen.
He had grated his carrots and had added them to the batter; which at this point was a coffee brown color. He reached for the preheated oven and slid the baking pan in, closing the door quietly behind him and punching in a thirty five minute timer on the oven clock. He stared at the cake inside, hoping that it would bake-- he didn’t even care if it came out flat, he could hide it with some icing or--
He didn’t get to finish his thoughts as he heard footsteps coming to a muted halt behind him.
“Good morning,” Dongsik leaned against the island in the kitchen, hair messy and face still soft from sleep. He offered a small smile, but his eyes were rimmed red.
“Hey,” Juwon reached towards him and took him in his arms, burying his head in the crook of his neck, and mumbling, “I hope I wasn’t loud.” The slope of Dongsik’s shoulder blades had to be his favorite part of his partner. It was warm and smelt like cinnamon and he could feel Dongsik’s pulse against his lips.
Dongsik hummed in response and was quiet. He then slid his arms up Juwon’s, gripping the cardigan there, “I had a nightmare.” He was trembling now, fingers grasping onto Juwon as if he would disappear from him.
Juwon gulped down and breathed shakily out. He moved away and looked at Dongsik. He tucked his curls behind his face and pressed a kiss to his forehead before engulfing him into a deeper hug, “Talk to me, please.”
The kitchen’s clock ticked away, counting the seconds between them. The scent of brown sugar and wheat baking lay still and steady around them.
“You..were there,” he said. “She was too.”
“My mom and my dad..them too,” Dongsik stopped speaking. His voice was quiet and got quieter with every word he said.
His shoulder began to heave and he knew Dongsik was crying. He didn’t say anything but ran a hand over his hair, bringing their bodies closer together, as if trying to make their bodies and mind one entity. It was as if he wanted to take some of Dongsik’s pain and make it his.
“You and them, they didn’t say anything but ..they looked so sad and then,” here his voice cracked, “and then they started disappearing, one by one and you--”
“Oh my God, Juwon-ah you were bleeding so much, I didn’t know, I couldn’t save you, I tried and I couldn’t, I couldn’t,” his tears soaked Juwon’s neck and Dongsik’s knees gave away.
If it wasn’t for Juwon, he would have fallen to the floor-- but Juwon was there and they both sank down. Juwon held him as he cried, muttering tiny comforts into his ear, “They don’t blame you,”
“I love you,”
“You are my person,”
“You are beautiful in blue,”
“I made this cake for you,”
“Breathe,”
“This is our home,”
“You are safe,”
“I will protect you.”
The timer went off and the flowers in their garden lifted their head to the morning dew. In the kitchen the cake was done baking.
“I like carrot cake,” Dongsik forced out, “because she made it for us, every single birthday.” He made a sound, like a little laugh, “And she would ice it and draw our faces with cinnamon and chocolate chips”
Juwon smiled gently and said in a quiet whisper, his breath against Dongsik’s ear, “And now I’ll make it for you.”
Dongsik was still crying and Juwon continued to hold him.
Dongsik always found a way to get what was on his mind out, and Juwon would always, always be there to listen.
They picked up each other’s odd and cracked ends and filled them with tenderness. This was their way of loving