Blue Skies

22

"Hoseok?"

Taehyung slips in the front door to the familiar bar, the scent of freshly polished wood and clean floors filling his nostrils as he calls for his husband. Hoseok's nowhere in sight, and Taehyung makes his way toward the back, knowing the older is likely in his office off the kitchen.

Hoseok glanced up when Taehyung enters the room, a warm smile pulling at his lips at the younger's fluffy hair and oversized, soft sweater. "Hey. Why are you here?"

"You forgot your gloves, I didn't want your fingers to be cold and I was passing by anyway," Taehyung deposits the gloves on the desk and a kiss upon Hoseok's cheek, giving him a smile. "Heavy work day?"

"Yeah, I need to review our expenses for the last month and work out salaries." Hoseok wraps an arm around Taehyung's waist, tugging him closer, leaning his head against Taehyung's side. "What are you doing in this part of town?"

"Massage client," Taehyung replies, and he glances away from Hoseok's sweet brown eyes, his eyes tracing the room as his fingers find strands of the older's silky hair, playing with it. "I'll pick up dinner on my way home."

"Okay. Hope this client is decent," Hoseok gives Taehyung a smile, and Taehyung leans down to press a soft kiss against his lips.

"Love you."

Taehyung makes his way out the office door, stepping through Blue Sky's glass entryway as the cool breeze blows his hair back. He glances at the familiar doors, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach; Hoseok appears the the doorway to the kitchen, waving to the younger, and Taehyung exhales, forcing a small smile onto his lips in response before making his way down the street.

The day is beautiful, but Taehyung's preoccupied, nervous, as he makes his way to the coffee shop several blocks down the street. She's not there yet, and he orders a cappuccino, taking a seat at the largest table available. The drink is bitter, the ratio of coffee to milk off, and Taehyung sets down his cup, instead staring out the window, his stomach churning.

She arrives in a few minutes, and she looks exactly as she last did, her dark hair with only a few more white strands than before; she doesn't even glance his way, walking to the counter, her heels clicking on the polished laminate as she taps her foot, speaking to the employee.

She turns, and her eyes meet Taehyung's; his throat catches, and he holds her gaze, his heart skipping several beats as she makes her way to the table, sitting as far from him as she can given the size of the table. Taehyung studies his hands, suddenly unsure what he's doing there, and she clears her throat, her voice short, clipped in that way she used to speak to him when hurried. Which was, in fact, all the time. Her voice only ever softened around his father.

"Hello, Taehyung."

Taehyung nods, his throat so tight he has to take a sip of his bitter coffee in order to speak. "Hi." The silence between them is overwhelming, and he adds belatedly, hoping for some warmth from her, anything to alleviate the pain in his head. "Mother."

She watches him, her shining red fingernails tapping her coffee cup. "How are you?"

"Why did you call me?" Taehyung asks in response, his stomach so unsteady he wonders if he might be sick.

"Your father's been wanting to reconcile with you."

Taehyung is silent.

"He's getting on in his years, and he wants to make amends."

"He should have thought about that before telling me to never see him again," Taehyung says quietly, the pain still raw even almost eight years later, and his mother's hand twitches; he wonders if she was going to take his hand. Or smack him, more likely.

"He regretted everything he said."

"He's not here saying it, you are."

His mother nods. "He's busy."

"I'm not making the effort to be all close unless he is. He ruined his chance for that."

Taehyung's mother seems to struggle with the words, her eyes darting away from him. "I received the invite to your marriage."

"Hoseok's friend sent the invitations. I didn't want you there."

An eyebrow raises. "I'm surprised they even allow your type to marry."

It stings, and he swallows in an attempt to reduce the hurt in his chest, the tightness in his throat. "You're great at this reconciliation thing."

Her eyes flash in that way that tells Taehyung he hit a nerve, and he looks away. "I'm leaving."

"Taehyung."

He glances back at her, and she's composed once again, her eyes serious. "Your father was recently diagnosed with early-onset alzheimer's. He barely remembers saying those things."

"So, what, he doesn't remember I'm gay?"

"No. He remembers you, and a few things from your youth, but your dramatics and storming from the home are gone."

Taehyung stares, and his mother looks almost tired for a moment, but that can't be right, because she's never tired, only cold and composed and distant.

"I've told him you are traveling, but he wants to see you."

Taehyung's chest stings, and he doesn't know what to say, the news not painful, but foreign. "I'm not pretending to be straight so you can pretend everything is fine and you two have the ideal son."

His mother tilts her head. "If you decide to visit, you have my number."

"I'm not going to visit him."

She stands, and that cool, calculated look is back. "I hope you'll reconsider."

"I won't."

"He misses you. Be glad he remembers you at all."

Her heels click as she makes her way out the door, the cheery bell jingling in her wake, and Taehyung stares at his hands, his chest full of anger and hurt.

He'd thought, with her reaching out, that maybe things would be different. Maybe they would be better, without the cold distance between them, without the slurs taken at his relationship with Hoseok. Yet here he was, hurt by her again. His own mother still couldn't stand being in the same room as him.

Taehyung's throat tightens, and he lets out a breath, standing, making his way out the coffee shop's door. He doesn't really pay attention as he walks, his mind on the cold twist of her red lips, her words. His father, hoping to see Taehyung again. The thought of hiding who he was around him.

That wasn't Taehyung. He wasn't the kind of person who would pretend to be something else, was he?

Even for an ailing man. One who raised him. One who turned against him, who never felt the same way toward him once Taehyung shared his deepest secret.

One he has a second chance with.

Taehyung's fists tighten, and he stops, the people around him simply shifting so they don't hit him as they continue with their own paths. He stares at the ground, letting out a soft breath, and he doesn't realize he's pulled his phone from his pocket until his fingers are typing, sending the message before his brain catches up.

When can I see him?
Message sent, 11:03 a.m.

~

I know I haven't posted in a long time, and I'm so sorry. I'm working through school and several other things, and I know it's no excuse for letting you all down. I hope that there are still some people here reading, but I understand if I have lost followers and readers.

I'm working on a new oneshot, and I'm developing ideas for a few more things. I don't know when I will post again, but I hope to begin posting a little more often. Thank you for bearing with me.

I love you all. Thanks for reading.