12. Chuseok #2
Everyone wanted to do something for him: a drink from Dae’s dad, a snack from his aunt, even a wrapped hard candy from his grandma.
It was like a punch of understanding straight into Theo’s chest. This was where Dae got it: his generosity, his helpfulness, his kindness… His family had ingrained it in him, probably from the moment he was born.
And Theo? What had his family ingrained in him?
He took a deep breath, sucking in the steam floating from the kitchen, hoping to burn away the weirdness starting to swirl in his gut.
Min’s friends were huddled on the couch getting grilled by her aunts about their plans for the future, a fate Theo avoided by asking Dae’s dad to show him old pictures.
He lit up like Theo had given him an award and then showed him a cabinet with school yearbooks, photo albums, and dusty frames.
Theo wanted more, wanted to see little Dae with his atrocious bowl-cut, smiling unabashedly.
It confused his heart to see how he was in Korea: full of joy, silliness, and funny faces.
Then the pictures shifted to Canada, and he began to change.
His smile faded into the tight-lipped line Theo knew, his eyes rarely met the camera, and his shoulders hunched.
It made Theo profoundly sad in a way he didn’t know how to hide.
Hands snatched the album away.
“Who gave you this?” Dae wasn’t angry or even annoyed, just embarrassed.
“Your dad.” Theo scanned the room for him. He hadn’t even noticed when Mr. Moon had left his side.
“Of course he did.” He shook his head and shoved the album under a couch cushion, then beckoned him to the table. “Lunch is ready.”
‘Lunch’ was a feast. They’d put three tables together (the fact that some people owned fold-out tables blew Theo’s mind) and had covered them in beautifully embroidered tablecloths.
Almost every inch was occupied with a delicious smorgasbord: fish, noodles, soup, rice, chicken, a savoury pancake thing, kimchi, egg rolls, and more dishes he couldn’t identify.
The afternoon was a cacophony. English mixed with Korean that gradually rose in volume as the alcohol flowed.
Theo sat at the end of the table with Dae, trying to catch snippets of conversation but also happy to just watch and listen.
He’d never been to a big family meal before, and it felt like he was an anthropologist exploring a new, beautiful world.
One of Dae’s uncles called to his mom in Korean, asking a question that she answered, laughing, and a word caught Theo’s attention.
“Wait.” He turned to Dae, who had suddenly become very interested in his plate. “They all know my nickname?”
He refused to answer, so Min jumped in. “We’re a chatty family.”
“I noticed.” The other end of the table erupted in laughter, and it seemed the younger generation was forgotten. “What does it mean?”
Min silently consulted Dae, and the face he gave her must’ve been persuasive, because she shook her head.
Theo clicked his tongue. “You're doing the younger sister thing all wrong.”
“Because he’s too soft.” She hugged his arm and pressed her cheek to his, squeezing their faces together in a move that was impressively aggressive. “No one is more annoyed by that than me. It's not even fun to tease him."
Dae tried to squirm away. "That never stopped you."
“Of course not, but I don't take any pleasure in it.”
After lunch, there was nothing they could do to stop Theo from helping to clean up, especially since most of the adults were halfway drunk. He couldn’t believe it was only three in the afternoon. He felt like he’d lived a whole week in that house.
Once everything was (he hoped) in its rightful place in the kitchen, he went to the living room to find Dae missing, so he wandered up the stairs and found him in his bedroom, folding clothes into a duffle bag. Theo leaned against the doorframe and knocked on the wall. “Making a getaway?”
Dae must’ve heard him coming because he didn’t even flinch. “Interview clothes.”
Right. Interviews, internships, jobs, things seniors had to think about. “It’s the second week of school. Don’t you think you’re jumping the gun a bit?”
“I don’t know when I’ll be back.” He waved him in. “You don’t have to hover.”
Dae’s room was more cluttered than his room in their place. Drafts of his creatures plastered his walls, and he’d shoved his notebooks wherever they fit on his bookshelf, desk, and in his closet.
“I’m guessing Bob isn’t a secret from your family.”
“Ah…” He looked at the sketches with a half-smile. “Yes and no. Min knows about the website. My parents just think I like to doodle.”
“Can I snoop?”
He nodded. “I’m surprised it took you this long.”
Theo poked around the notebooks first, laughing at the more absurd drawings. He’d never felt someone’s attention on him more than he did in that room. There was a charge to the air that he hadn’t been expecting when he first came in.
“What is this?” He picked up a not-so-hidden box by the desk.
Dae lunged for it, and they both toppled onto his bed, spilling the contents of the box onto his comforter.
It was filled with achievements: ribbons, awards, and trophies.
Dae tried to gather it up, but Theo plucked a plaque from the pile and held it away from him, reading as Dae tried to wrestle it away.
“Dae Moon, first place winner in endurance…”
“Theo, I’m begging you.” Dae held his wrist and tried to pry the plaque from his fingers, but Theo switched it to the other hand.
“And reining,” Theo continued. “Most improved in jumping and sportsmanship.” Dae pushed him onto the bed and held him down with his body while his fingers clawed the plaque away. Theo was laughing too hard to care. “You said you’d tell me if I behaved!”
Theo reached for it again, but Dae threw the plaque back into the box and pinned both Theo’s hands to the mattress, leaning over him.
“This is you behaving?” His face was stern and his muscles tense, but there was amusement in his voice.
His joy—any level of it—was glorious to behold, even if their position was crossing the line Theo had promised himself he wouldn’t go near.
“We’re putting the box away and never speaking of this again. ”
“Please, Dae.” Theo surprised them both with his sincerity. He didn’t know what came over him, but he didn’t want to snoop. He wanted to be shown.
Dae’s grip on his hands softened, and the blacks of his pupils devoured his irises.
Maybe he was just now realizing how many places their bodies were pressed together: Dae’s thigh draped over Theo’s legs, trapping him in place, their stomachs so close to brushing together, a deep breath could’ve made contact.
What happened in Hamilton…
No. Theo told his hardening dick to shut the fuck up. That was the last thing this situation needed. He was getting too comfortable, too lax, too far past the line. So instead he focused on his original goal.
“Please. I want to see.”
After an inward battle that Theo watched play across his face, Dae whispered, “Why?”
Theo didn’t have an answer to that. At least, not one he could put into words. So instead he repeated himself. “I want to see.”
Dae closed his eyes, giving up, giving in, Theo didn’t know. But he climbed off him and they both sat up, legs tucked under themselves like they were sitting for story-time, unsure how to proceed.
“Here.” Dae pushed the box towards him. “Go ahead.”
Theo took the plaque back out and studied the carving of a little man on a majestic horse. “How many kids were in the camp?”
“Around two hundred.”
“And you won? How old were you?” The plaque was surprisingly heavy, and Theo used the weight of it to keep his body from betraying him further, digging the corners into the pads of his fingers, creating a different sensation for his brain to fixate on.
“Ten. I had a really good horse.”
“How many years did you do this?”
“One. My mom pushed me to go back, but I wouldn’t.” Theo waited for him to go on, which took a few breaths. “My English wasn’t great.”
An explosion went off in Theo’s memory, and he couldn’t believe he’d never pieced it together before.
“The funny thing is,” Dae continued, “I was the best in my English class in school.” He spoke to his box of accomplishments, fiddling with the edge, digging his finger into a hole that was gradually growing.
“We start early in Korea, and my teachers praised me all the time. I loved it.” He looked up.
“The language, I mean. Not the praise. Although…” He shrugged and gave Theo a shy smile. “I guess the praise was nice too.”
“But when you got here…”
He nodded like Theo had made a statement. “I wasn’t as fluent as I thought I was.”
Theo remembered kids snickering when Dae answered questions, taunting him when he tried to talk to them on the playground.
He hadn’t understood at the time why his friends shunned the new kid, or why the new kid seemed afraid of them.
Of him. He did nothing to stop it. Did he laugh?
He must have. He hadn’t known back then how cruel that was.
Or maybe he did know but didn’t care because it wasn’t directed at him. No wonder Dae retreated into himself.
“I’m sorry.” Theo’s voice cracked, and confusion took over Dae’s face.
“For what?”
“We were such assholes to you.”
Dae stared at him a moment, then he laughed, flashing those glorious dimples Theo didn’t deserve to see. “We were kids. Everyone’s an asshole when they’re a kid.”
“You weren’t.”
Dae winked. “Not in English.”
His insulting nickname seemed appropriate now. He had a few choice words for himself as well. “Dae, I’m so sorry.”
“Stop. It was so long ago, and it was mostly the others. You were…” His cheeks bloomed pink. “I mean, you weren’t like that.”
“You’re letting me off too easy.”
“Fine.” He stuck out his hand in a formal handshake. “Make it up to me with a lifetime of servitude.”