[Fic] Learning You
Jan. 5th, 2015 11:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
coley_merrinTitle: Learning You
Pairing: Zhou Mi/Kyuhyun
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mentions of homophobia and people being ableist
Prompt: QMi au; Kyu is a new harmonica player/volunteer at an orphanage where he met mute but bright Mi, and both are awkward turtles but eventually Kyu learned sign language for him and both become inseparable until 1 day Mi needs to move out bcs he reaches 18 y.o? (lets say Mi's younger ><) thanks a lot!
***
Zhou Mi loved to listen, the pretty notes, jaunty tunes. It didn’t matter if it was a violin, a piano, someone who sang, or a harmonica. He loved tinny notes out of his cheap headphones, too, but live was so much better. Some of the others, they got bored, wandering, talking among themselves. But it was something different, when new people came, when they took requests, and played music, and told Zhou Mi something about themselves just from the way the way they played. Sometimes they were there to help with meals, too, or with homework, or cleaning, or just there for an afternoon. It didn’t matter. Zhou Mi always missed them.
Kyuhyun was one of the ones who came, singing a bit when they cajoled him, but mostly making his harmonica sing to them just as clear as if it was his own voice. Zhou Mi blinked back tears at times, songs that wept through the air to touch him in sore places he wasn’t familiar with. And Kyuhyun stayed after, too, helping to get everyone organized for dinner. Sometimes they went in by age, sometimes by height. He didn’t like that, because he was either first or last, and that night, he was last. It was hard to get a moment alone with the people who came, because when the music was done, they were popular with everyone.
When Kyuhyun ladled soup into Zhou Mi’s bowl, Zhou Mi thrust out his notepad.
“My name is Zhou Mi. I can hear but not speak. I love listening to you play,” it read.
Kyuhyun smiled up at him. “Hi, Zhou Mi. Nice to meet you.”
Zhou Mi beamed at him for a long moment before ducking his head and shuffling off with his tray. Most people didn’t bother with him, after that. It was a lot of effort, for them, even if he was the one who couldn’t sign as he normally would to them and had to furiously scribble answers down on paper instead. They just saw him as somehow broken. That was why he liked music. He didn’t need words, or a voice, to speak with it. That was why he liked hearing people tell them their stories.
And Kyuhyun was nice. A lot of the younger boys looked up to him, liked to drag him out and beg him to play soccer with him, or help them with their math. Zhou Mi hovered, hoping for a moment, but it was Kyuhyun who saw him, coming in the door sweaty and grass-stained.
“Zhou Mi!” he said. “How are you?”
“Good,” Zhou Mi signed back. But he nodded his head, smiling, and let that be his real answer. Kyuhyun didn’t speak to him loud and slow like some did. He ended up sitting next to Kyuhyun at movie night, laughing and gasping and warm when Kyuhyun nudged against him once because of the antics on screen. He wished he didn’t have to pass Kyuhyun notes. “When will you play again?” “Thank you for helping with dinner.” “That is my favorite color.”
He just…he wished, and he worried, because time was his own enemy.
“How are you?” Kyuhyun asked one day.
And Zhou Mi lifted his hands to sign, before he realized he was about to sign back. Kyuhyun had asked, verbally, and with his hands, he’d also asked, the signs halting but clear. And Zhou Mi couldn’t even answer, his smile saying too much as Kyuhyun laughed at him and poked his shoulder.
“I thought…maybe I could try a little. I bought a book,” Kyuhyun said. And he actually had it with him, a simple book of signs but something. “Would you help me?”
Kyuhyun wanted to speak with him. Not to be able to speak to him, even though some people did as they spoke too, but to be able to understand when Zhou Mi spoke to him. He bundled Kyuhyun off to the most private corner he could find, laughing delightedly as Kyuhyun demonstrated part of the alphabet that he had learned, letting Zhou Mi correct his hands and picking it up quickly. Together they learned colors, time words, pronouns, emotions, question words. Harmonica. Kyuhyun grinned at that.
“I’m happy to see you,” Zhou Mi signed to him.
And Kyuhyun understood.
***
It was selfish maybe, to lie in wait and walk with Kyuhyun the moment he arrived, sitting near him as he played his harmonica for them.
“Okay?” Kyuhyun signed to him during a break, and Zhou Mi almost laughed, pouring out his feelings in a flurry of signs that left Kyuhyun confused but also, a little embarrassed. Maybe because Zhou Mi was so clearly admiring his playing.
“I love to read,” Zhou Mi signed to him later, showing him the novel he had chosen as his enrichment project that week. “I can go here and there.”
Kyuhyun nodded, understanding. “It’s a whole different world, isn’t it? So many possibilities.”
As he did sometimes, Zhou Mi showed him how to sign at least one of his sentences, building on the vocabulary he had, and expanding it. Kyuhyun was proud when he was able to do even part of a sentence, knowing that if he knew how to sign it, he’d recognize it when Zhou Mi signed it back. He told Kyuhyun, in sign, and by writing, of the places he wanted to see. He wanted to go on airplanes, and big ships, and see the ocean. He dreamed so many dreams, and Kyuhyun shared some of them, too. Zhou Mi loved to watch Kyuhyun sign to him, because it meant something. When Kyuhyun spoke aloud, it was for Zhou Mi and the others. When he signed, it was for Zhou Mi only.
***
They didn’t kick him out on his birthday, so that was nice. They let him have his party with his candles, and the little gifts that they had helped the younger ones buy for him. They were useful things, socks, some worn but nice clothing, and a used but functional cell phone with minutes applied to it. He didn’t mind that they were used, because they were his now, and his to use. He’d been preparing for it for a while, preparing skills for the menial job that they had found for him, so that he could pay the small rent on the shared room in the group home that he would go to. It was a stepping stone, one they decided was needed for him because he couldn’t speak. They wouldn’t let him work, hadn’t tried to help him work, before he’d been old enough to be away from them. He still had to work, then, though, and study for the exams that would tell him if he had any chance of going to a university.
But it was almost three weeks until he saw Kyuhyun again.
His hands were raw from the cleaning solution that he used to scrub down the restaurant every night. Every corner was spotless, and he stayed past the time he was supposed to because he thought if he didn’t do well enough, they would let him go. The owner spoke too loud to him, as though he couldn’t understand, and he had to force the muscles in his back to release. His roommate in the group home was nice enough, but he had his own challenges and ignored Zhou Mi in the way of someone who knew he would not be seeing Zhou Mi long there. He wasn’t sure if was sad, or a coping mechanism. But it was true, he supposed. Zhou Mi didn’t want to stay long there, with so many rules and mandatory checks of their rooms. He was legally an adult, and it was no different than it had been in any of the homes he’d grown up in.
But seeing Kyuhyun had him standing straight up out of the plastic chair in the common room, staring like Kyuhyun maybe really wasn’t there.
“Hi,” Kyuhyun said and signed. “It’s been a while.”
Zhou Mi thought of signing back, and instead, he stepped forward, hugging Kyuhyun hard. He was the first familiar person Zhou Mi had seen in a while. The woman who headed the orphanage Zhou Mi had been at had stopped by, complimented him on his hard work and how well he was doing. Kyuhyun was something else, though. He hadn’t been a parental figure. He’d been a friend.
“Missed you,” Zhou Mi whispered, because he couldn’t sign, or write, or mouth the words, and Kyuhyun nodded, holding him back a little tighter.
Kyuhyun kept his hand when Zhou Mi took him back to show him his room. There wasn’t much to snow, the little desk and narrow bunk beds. Kyuhyun grimaced a bit at the small space, and Zhou Mi felt inexplicably ashamed.
“Sorry,” he signed. “It’s nice.”
“Why are you sorry?” Kyuhyun asked. “Do you have work? Can you leave when you want to?”
He had to sign out, but he could leave. He didn’t work that day, and even if he had studying to do, he wasn’t passing up a chance to spend time with Kyuhyun. He’d left his number, but maybe no one had given it to Kyuhyun. So he gave it to Kyuhyun then. They couldn’t call but they could text, and texting didn’t eat up as much of the time he had on it anyway. People got good at asking yes or no questions on the phone so that he could cluck his tongue once for yes or twice for no. He could have whispered, but then people complained they couldn’t hear and it was more trouble than it was worth. They shamed him for it, and it was as though he was only half-normal to them. He preferred to sign, because he could put his feelings into it rather than some flimsy sounds made by his breath. Sometimes, he didn’t mind. Some people.
Kyuhyun drove him, and Zhou Mi sat perfectly still in the passenger seat, his hand resting on the door and staring at the surrounding area. He took a bus, but not that route, so it was all new. Kyuhyun talked to him, but didn’t ask him questions, which Zhou Mi appreciated, since Kyuhyun knew Zhou Mi would need to sign back, and it was hard to do that when Kyuhyun was watching the road. Kyuhyun had been playing at a different orphanage, and by the time he’d gotten back, he’d realized Zhou Mi had gone, and then it had taken time for Kyuhyun to have time, and he was glad that Zhou Mi looked well.
“This is my favorite restaurant,” Kyuhyun told him, and led Zhou Mi inside.
It was nice, small, and the owner greeted Kyuhyun when they entered. Zhou Mi ducked his head, his ears hot for some reason as he was smiled at, and he waved his greeting to the owner, too.
Kyuhyun tried to start neutral, asking about Zhou Mi’s day. But his very next question was, “I didn’t know you were about to leave. You didn’t tell me?”
Zhou Mi lowered his head. He hadn’t wanted to burden Kyuhyun, not when Kyuhyun had been so nice to him. And he hadn’t wanted Kyuhyun to pull away from him if Kyuhyun knew he wold be gone. It had been selfish, and he knew it.
“Sorry,” he signed. And he was frustrated, trying to sign in a way that Kyuhyun understood before he pulled out his notebook and scrawled it down instead. “I wanted to spend happy times with you.”
“They were happy, though,” Kyuhyun said slowly. “Did you think that I wouldn’t want to spend time with you if I knew you were going to leave?”
Zhou Mi shrugged, hunching down a bit as he stared hard at his menu. He knew what he wanted, point it out to Kyuhyun for him to order, and Kyuhyun heaved out a sigh, eyeballing him.
“I could’ve visited you sooner if I knew,” Kyuhyun told him. “I wouldn’t have just abandoned you. It has to be scary, just getting tossed out like that. I’m glad they found you a place to live and a job and all, but… Do you like it in that place? Really?”
“It is clean. Have to pay rent, and for food. Always waiting to be in trouble for something,” Zhou Mi wrote. And he punctuated it with a frown on the paper, and on his own face.
“Yeah, I bet. You grew up, but they’re not really letting you feel that way, huh?”
Zhou Mi nodded. He had a social worker, and she’d promised that if he got through his exams and kept his job, there’d be more opportunities. There had to be, really. But there was a truth he hadn’t said, and he signed it, because it was too much to put to paper.
“I’ll be happy there if I can still see you.”
Kyuhyun got most of it, caught on the “still” as Zhou Mi knew he would be. He wrote that word out, letting Kyuhyun puzzle as they started eating.
“You want to know if you can still see me there?”
“Happy,” Zhou Mi signed again.
“Oh, happy if you can still see me? Yes. As much as possible, to get you out of that little box of a room.”
“Studying for exams,” Zhou Mi said, signing it too, and Kyuhyun’s eyes went wide, putting down his soup spoon.
“And working, too?”
Zhou Mi shrugged again. Rent had to be paid. He bought himself candy once a week as a reward for getting through.
“Couldn’t they let you put that off until after the exams? Are you even able to study much?”
“Lights off early. Loud the rest of the time,” he wrote. “Doing the best I can.”
That didn’t make Kyuhyun’s frown much less, but he talked about other things, like the weather, or the food they were eating instead. It was fun. It was a relief to see Kyuhyun again. Kyuhyun talked to him in the car, too, idling outside of the home. He asked for the number of Zhou Mi’s social worker, if it was okay with Zhou Mi if he spoke to her. Zhou Mi, he had no objections, even if he was curious. All Kyuhyun had to say was that he had some questions for her. Probably making sure Zhou Mi got to study enough. He stuck his tongue out at Kyuhyun before he went inside, and Kyuhyun flashed his headlights at him. He was old enough that he didn’t need looking after, but the half hug Kyuhyun had given him before Zhou Mi got out of the car made him glad that he had someone who cared.
***
There were a lot of big sentences that referenced Zhou Mi as an adult and free to make his own choices. There were some that were negative, indicating that they thought he should stay in a group home for at least a year, for the socialization options it gave him. Beside him, Kyuhyun grunted because in his mind, getting Zhou Mi out of there and into some place “real” as he put it, would help Zhou Mi adjust even faster. Some place he could grow, instead of being watched like he was a prisoner, like he was going to get into trouble instead of having the chance to do something great. And especially, he could be some place he could study, uninterrupted. Zhou Mi didn’t know any other type of place, so what Kyuhyun suggested nearly set him adrift.
That place was with Kyuhyun’s parents, almost an empty nest, they had approved of taking in someone who needed a place of safety before he could get to his next step. A quiet place, a place that revered studying. Kyuhyun was eager to move out himself, but he still had a year of university to go and it was cheaper. Hard to party, with his parents almost always there. But the food was good, and the board was cheap. There wasn’t any money, not from the government because of Zhou Mi’s age. And when he offered to pay them, they flat refused. Chores, a few of them, and doing well on his exams were his payment. He got a hug every time he came home, and someone who scolded him if he stayed up too late, or didn’t eat. It was almost like getting the family he’d dreamed of having at eight, at ten, at fifteen.
Kyuhyun’s mother bought a set of magnet words, and Zhou Mi never left the kitchen without leaving a new sentence for her, whether he was doing the dishes or just going out to leave a glass. Things like “Thank you!” and “Have a good day!” Kyuhyun came along and left funny ones. Zhou Mi was never surprised that Mrs. Cho knew who had left what. She knew signs, too, a few, ones he thought that Kyuhyun taught her. Little things like delicious, thank you. At dinners, Kyuhyun translated for him, sometimes incorrectly which had Zhou Mi smacking at his shoulder and laughing at the ceiling as everyone at the table laughed.
Zhou Mi kept his job, though. A few nights a week wasn’t hurting anything, and the buses still got him back near to Kyuhyun’s home. They had their own rooms, though Kyuhyun seemed to enjoy crashing in Zhou Mi’s, poking around on his laptop and doing his homework while Zhou Mi studied. And Kyuhyun still played the harmonica for him, when Zhou Mi begged. It became too much, almost, to look at Kyuhyun when he played. Especially those moments when Kyuhyun looked up and met his eyes, and his throat went tight, and he had to look away.
He’d always admired Kyuhyun, wanted to be close to him. He’d told himself it was just friendly feelings, just happiness to be near him. It wasn’t what he’d given to Zhou Mi, even if it was so much, but after he’d left the orphanage, those weeks he hadn’t seen Kyuhyun, he knew how deep the thought of never seeing Kyuhyun again had cut. He couldn’t just go look, either. He’d just been a kid Kyuhyun was indulging. Love kind of hurt, he realized, when it felt hopeless, when he kind of caged it in, and even when he let himself imagine. The heat of it felt good, until it started to eat into him. But sometimes even the hurt felt good.
***
Zhou Mi knocked on the desk to get Kyuhyun’s attention, and Kyuhyun grinned up at him from the bean chair in the corner.
“Thirsty?” he signed.
“Please,” Kyuhyun said.
He’d told Zhou Mi he looked happier, and Zhou Mi asked how he did. “Your smile says everything,” Kyuhyun told him. He didn’t know how it did, or if Kyuhyun was just imagining things, or trying to boost Zhou Mi up, but he was mostly glad. He hoped his smile didn’t tell too much, or else Kyuhyun was going to see more that Zhou Mi meant to tell.
But it was difficult when Kyuhyun dreamed, flopped all over Zhou Mi’s bed and messing up Zhou Mi’s blankets. Kyuhyun talked about getting his own apartment, when he graduated. He talked about getting one big enough for him, and for Zhou Mi.
“What about a girlfriend?” Zhou Mi wondered. “If I’m there, you can’t party then?”
Kyuhyun looked surprised for a moment and then just laughed him off.
And Zhou Mi tilted his head, confused. Maybe he thought he could just kick Zhou Mi out when he wanted to be alone with someone. A second thought had crept in, of what if Kyuhyun wanted a boyfriend instead. And he wanted to ask. But that seemed rude, and it seemed too close to himself to ask it, too. If he asked if Kyuhyun wanted a boyfriend, maybe Kyuhyun would think that Zhou Mi wanted one. It wasn’t untrue, but maybe Kyuhyun’s parents wouldn’t want him there any more. Maybe Kyuhyun wouldn’t want him there. It was another way he was different. Not bad. Just different. It made him wistful, to have the things he wished for. He had a lot of them. Maybe it was selfish not to tell Kyuhyun all his secrets, but those secrets, at least, until he could provide for himself, kept him safe. It was not a betrayal, to protect himself. It wasn’t hurting Kyuhyun not to tell, not like it had been before when he hadn’t told Kyuhyun about him having to leave the orphanage.
***
It was when Kyuhyun found a job, was out looking for a place he wanted to live, that Zhou Mi discovered that he didn’t like change. Kyuhyun’s house had begun to feel like home. He liked his bed, and the bathroom where no one was knocking to hurry him up. He liked the pretty scents of his shampoo and soap that he got to buy with his own money, and his tiny secondhand movie collection. He liked seeing Kyuhyun’s wild morning hair, and eating Mrs. Cho’s cooking, and learning to make things as he watched and tried to absorb everything. She’d asked how they were going to eat, and Zhou Mi had demonstrated pouring cereal into a bowl, and making ramen. She’d swatted him on the head. The house was further from the university he was waiting to hear back from than where Kyuhyun wanted to live, but Zhou Mi had found a routine and it scared him to change it yet again.
The apartment wasn’t huge, but it was nice, big enough for two of them. Kyuhyun was going to make his deposit the next day, and there were anxious little tugs in his throat and his belly as he breathed and tried to focus on the movie they watched as a post-studying celebration.
“Zhou Mi,” Kyuhyun said, and he shifted, like saying Zhou Mi’s name wasn’t quite enough to get his attention. “You know... I don’t want a girlfriend. Ever.”
Zhou Mi stared at the high speed chase happening on the laptop in front of them, breathing carefully, his lungs feeling more complicated than they had been just a few minutes earlier. It felt like it was out of the blue but Kyuhyun had been starting and stopping saying something all night.
“My parents don’t know but,” Kyuhyun blew out a breath. “I wanted you to know, so you can decide if you want to move with me. My parents would be okay with you staying here if you really wanted, but I needed you to know before. I didn’t want it to be a surprise.”
It was a surprise, whether Kyuhyun knew all the ways it was or not. But his brain didn’t go too far. He was reasonable. He knew better than to think that Kyuhyun wanting a boyfriend would or ever could mean Kyuhyun wanting him.
“Thank you for telling me,” Zhou Mi signed to him. And he tried to make his smile as reassuring as possible. It put him in a corner he had not expected. It felt wrong, to hold back, when Kyuhyun had trusted him, had shared a part of himself to make sure that Zhou Mi wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He could have waited. He knew he could have waited, and Kyuhyun wouldn’t have been angry, but he wanted to say it so badly so that Kyuhyun knew him. Really knew him. “I won’t bring a girl home, too.”
“Because you won’t fold your socks?” Kyuhyun guessed, and laughed when Zhou Mi kicked his ankle.
“No, but maybe a boyfriend,” Zhou Mi signed. He didn’t even know if Kyuhyun knew it was the first time he’d ever told someone. “Don’t worry.”
They were both flustered, Kyuhyun pushing at his shoulder, making some weird sound. “Oh. Hey. So you’ll still move with me?”
Zhou Mi blew out a breath at Kyuhyun, and his movements were emphatic. “I want to stay with you.”
He was going to miss being babied by Kyuhyun’s mom, but he would have missed Kyuhyun more. He pretended to be grumpy when Kyuhyun tugged at him, but he went anyway, tucking his head down against Kyuhyun’s chest like he’d done a dozen times. He was still trying to figure out what was going on with the movie, while still wrapping his head around Kyuhyun, and Kyuhyun accepting who he was, and the fact that they were really going to be together, living together. Kyuhyun still wanted him around. He actually gnawed on his bottom lip to keep from tearing up, and he only sniffled once.
“You know, I can’t play the harmonica as late in an apartment,” Kyuhyun mused. Because that was absolutely what Zhou Mi was marveling over. He all but wheezed laughing.
And his eyes were only just a little wet, when the giggle that Kyuhyun hitched out at the poke to his belly made Zhou Mi smile.
***
Classes were an adventure. The ones he’d gone to had always been small, working around people who weren’t really like him. He always introduced himself to his professors, let them know he was there, that he was eager, that he was the equal of everyone in the class even if he had to find a different way of participating. He dreamed while wide awake exploring books, and trudged through required classes with Kyuhyun’s cheerleading.
Kyuhyun forgot to talk to him sometimes, signing quick retorts or questions. It made it easier in the grocery store sometimes, signing frantically from the ends of an aisle instead of shouting. Zhou Mi never regretted when Kyuhyun spoke instead, though. It just spoke to the ease he’d found in it. It was both satisfying and oddly frustrating when they snapped at each other through huffs and movements. He shut down if Kyuhyun shouted, so Kyuhyun stopped. He just stopped, until the quiet had one of them grabbing a moving hand and holding.
He watched Kyuhyun’s fingertips trace over his knuckles, and most times, they could start over. Discussing, really talking to each other.
And in four years of living together, he only gave Kyuhyun food poisoning once. And he had an explanation for that one.
Kyuhyun’s parents came to his graduation. Zhou Mi’s social worker, the head of the orphanage. He could see their pride in him. Maybe even their surprise. Kyuhyun wasn’t surprised. He’d cleared some of the path that Zhou Mi would have struggled down until he could struggle no longer, but he’d walked every step on his own. He didn’t just help to oversee the cleaning of the restaurant, he helped them to order, and helped to serve. And because he was there, some people came, because they knew he could sign to them. It was a welcoming place. A place that gave him a chance, when some wouldn’t have. Where he’d go after, whenever that was, he didn’t know. He didn’t have to know, not yet. When Kyuhyun went to the orphanage, they went together. And he wasn’t just going to show what they could be, but maybe to help clear their path a little, too. Even if it was with a smile, or a song. And he felt different. Newer, maybe. And every so often, he played a song for Kyuhyun on the harmonica instead, or on the little keyboard Zhou Mi had bought for himself.
“Congratulations,” Kyuhyun whispered, his nose nudging beside Zhou Mi’s as he trapped Zhou Mi against the bathroom counter. Quiet, after a rowdy celebration dinner with friends and the family Zhou Mi had found.
“Thanks,” he whispered back, squinting before giving in and just closing his eyes because Kyuhyun was so close. The wiggle of Kyuhyun’s lips against his was a tease, but Kyuhyun finally took pity and kissed him for real. And again, as Zhou Mi tilted his head back.
“Too tall,” Kyuhyun muttered, and Zhou Mi pushed him back, laughing.
“Always taller than you,” Zhou Mi signed, and Kyuhyun sniffed. Still, he let himself be reeled back in for another kiss.
Zhou Mi never did take a boyfriend home to their apartment. Though he never had to. The person he loved most already lived there.
***
Pairing: Zhou Mi/Kyuhyun
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mentions of homophobia and people being ableist
Prompt: QMi au; Kyu is a new harmonica player/volunteer at an orphanage where he met mute but bright Mi, and both are awkward turtles but eventually Kyu learned sign language for him and both become inseparable until 1 day Mi needs to move out bcs he reaches 18 y.o? (lets say Mi's younger ><) thanks a lot!
***
Zhou Mi loved to listen, the pretty notes, jaunty tunes. It didn’t matter if it was a violin, a piano, someone who sang, or a harmonica. He loved tinny notes out of his cheap headphones, too, but live was so much better. Some of the others, they got bored, wandering, talking among themselves. But it was something different, when new people came, when they took requests, and played music, and told Zhou Mi something about themselves just from the way the way they played. Sometimes they were there to help with meals, too, or with homework, or cleaning, or just there for an afternoon. It didn’t matter. Zhou Mi always missed them.
Kyuhyun was one of the ones who came, singing a bit when they cajoled him, but mostly making his harmonica sing to them just as clear as if it was his own voice. Zhou Mi blinked back tears at times, songs that wept through the air to touch him in sore places he wasn’t familiar with. And Kyuhyun stayed after, too, helping to get everyone organized for dinner. Sometimes they went in by age, sometimes by height. He didn’t like that, because he was either first or last, and that night, he was last. It was hard to get a moment alone with the people who came, because when the music was done, they were popular with everyone.
When Kyuhyun ladled soup into Zhou Mi’s bowl, Zhou Mi thrust out his notepad.
“My name is Zhou Mi. I can hear but not speak. I love listening to you play,” it read.
Kyuhyun smiled up at him. “Hi, Zhou Mi. Nice to meet you.”
Zhou Mi beamed at him for a long moment before ducking his head and shuffling off with his tray. Most people didn’t bother with him, after that. It was a lot of effort, for them, even if he was the one who couldn’t sign as he normally would to them and had to furiously scribble answers down on paper instead. They just saw him as somehow broken. That was why he liked music. He didn’t need words, or a voice, to speak with it. That was why he liked hearing people tell them their stories.
And Kyuhyun was nice. A lot of the younger boys looked up to him, liked to drag him out and beg him to play soccer with him, or help them with their math. Zhou Mi hovered, hoping for a moment, but it was Kyuhyun who saw him, coming in the door sweaty and grass-stained.
“Zhou Mi!” he said. “How are you?”
“Good,” Zhou Mi signed back. But he nodded his head, smiling, and let that be his real answer. Kyuhyun didn’t speak to him loud and slow like some did. He ended up sitting next to Kyuhyun at movie night, laughing and gasping and warm when Kyuhyun nudged against him once because of the antics on screen. He wished he didn’t have to pass Kyuhyun notes. “When will you play again?” “Thank you for helping with dinner.” “That is my favorite color.”
He just…he wished, and he worried, because time was his own enemy.
“How are you?” Kyuhyun asked one day.
And Zhou Mi lifted his hands to sign, before he realized he was about to sign back. Kyuhyun had asked, verbally, and with his hands, he’d also asked, the signs halting but clear. And Zhou Mi couldn’t even answer, his smile saying too much as Kyuhyun laughed at him and poked his shoulder.
“I thought…maybe I could try a little. I bought a book,” Kyuhyun said. And he actually had it with him, a simple book of signs but something. “Would you help me?”
Kyuhyun wanted to speak with him. Not to be able to speak to him, even though some people did as they spoke too, but to be able to understand when Zhou Mi spoke to him. He bundled Kyuhyun off to the most private corner he could find, laughing delightedly as Kyuhyun demonstrated part of the alphabet that he had learned, letting Zhou Mi correct his hands and picking it up quickly. Together they learned colors, time words, pronouns, emotions, question words. Harmonica. Kyuhyun grinned at that.
“I’m happy to see you,” Zhou Mi signed to him.
And Kyuhyun understood.
***
It was selfish maybe, to lie in wait and walk with Kyuhyun the moment he arrived, sitting near him as he played his harmonica for them.
“Okay?” Kyuhyun signed to him during a break, and Zhou Mi almost laughed, pouring out his feelings in a flurry of signs that left Kyuhyun confused but also, a little embarrassed. Maybe because Zhou Mi was so clearly admiring his playing.
“I love to read,” Zhou Mi signed to him later, showing him the novel he had chosen as his enrichment project that week. “I can go here and there.”
Kyuhyun nodded, understanding. “It’s a whole different world, isn’t it? So many possibilities.”
As he did sometimes, Zhou Mi showed him how to sign at least one of his sentences, building on the vocabulary he had, and expanding it. Kyuhyun was proud when he was able to do even part of a sentence, knowing that if he knew how to sign it, he’d recognize it when Zhou Mi signed it back. He told Kyuhyun, in sign, and by writing, of the places he wanted to see. He wanted to go on airplanes, and big ships, and see the ocean. He dreamed so many dreams, and Kyuhyun shared some of them, too. Zhou Mi loved to watch Kyuhyun sign to him, because it meant something. When Kyuhyun spoke aloud, it was for Zhou Mi and the others. When he signed, it was for Zhou Mi only.
***
They didn’t kick him out on his birthday, so that was nice. They let him have his party with his candles, and the little gifts that they had helped the younger ones buy for him. They were useful things, socks, some worn but nice clothing, and a used but functional cell phone with minutes applied to it. He didn’t mind that they were used, because they were his now, and his to use. He’d been preparing for it for a while, preparing skills for the menial job that they had found for him, so that he could pay the small rent on the shared room in the group home that he would go to. It was a stepping stone, one they decided was needed for him because he couldn’t speak. They wouldn’t let him work, hadn’t tried to help him work, before he’d been old enough to be away from them. He still had to work, then, though, and study for the exams that would tell him if he had any chance of going to a university.
But it was almost three weeks until he saw Kyuhyun again.
His hands were raw from the cleaning solution that he used to scrub down the restaurant every night. Every corner was spotless, and he stayed past the time he was supposed to because he thought if he didn’t do well enough, they would let him go. The owner spoke too loud to him, as though he couldn’t understand, and he had to force the muscles in his back to release. His roommate in the group home was nice enough, but he had his own challenges and ignored Zhou Mi in the way of someone who knew he would not be seeing Zhou Mi long there. He wasn’t sure if was sad, or a coping mechanism. But it was true, he supposed. Zhou Mi didn’t want to stay long there, with so many rules and mandatory checks of their rooms. He was legally an adult, and it was no different than it had been in any of the homes he’d grown up in.
But seeing Kyuhyun had him standing straight up out of the plastic chair in the common room, staring like Kyuhyun maybe really wasn’t there.
“Hi,” Kyuhyun said and signed. “It’s been a while.”
Zhou Mi thought of signing back, and instead, he stepped forward, hugging Kyuhyun hard. He was the first familiar person Zhou Mi had seen in a while. The woman who headed the orphanage Zhou Mi had been at had stopped by, complimented him on his hard work and how well he was doing. Kyuhyun was something else, though. He hadn’t been a parental figure. He’d been a friend.
“Missed you,” Zhou Mi whispered, because he couldn’t sign, or write, or mouth the words, and Kyuhyun nodded, holding him back a little tighter.
Kyuhyun kept his hand when Zhou Mi took him back to show him his room. There wasn’t much to snow, the little desk and narrow bunk beds. Kyuhyun grimaced a bit at the small space, and Zhou Mi felt inexplicably ashamed.
“Sorry,” he signed. “It’s nice.”
“Why are you sorry?” Kyuhyun asked. “Do you have work? Can you leave when you want to?”
He had to sign out, but he could leave. He didn’t work that day, and even if he had studying to do, he wasn’t passing up a chance to spend time with Kyuhyun. He’d left his number, but maybe no one had given it to Kyuhyun. So he gave it to Kyuhyun then. They couldn’t call but they could text, and texting didn’t eat up as much of the time he had on it anyway. People got good at asking yes or no questions on the phone so that he could cluck his tongue once for yes or twice for no. He could have whispered, but then people complained they couldn’t hear and it was more trouble than it was worth. They shamed him for it, and it was as though he was only half-normal to them. He preferred to sign, because he could put his feelings into it rather than some flimsy sounds made by his breath. Sometimes, he didn’t mind. Some people.
Kyuhyun drove him, and Zhou Mi sat perfectly still in the passenger seat, his hand resting on the door and staring at the surrounding area. He took a bus, but not that route, so it was all new. Kyuhyun talked to him, but didn’t ask him questions, which Zhou Mi appreciated, since Kyuhyun knew Zhou Mi would need to sign back, and it was hard to do that when Kyuhyun was watching the road. Kyuhyun had been playing at a different orphanage, and by the time he’d gotten back, he’d realized Zhou Mi had gone, and then it had taken time for Kyuhyun to have time, and he was glad that Zhou Mi looked well.
“This is my favorite restaurant,” Kyuhyun told him, and led Zhou Mi inside.
It was nice, small, and the owner greeted Kyuhyun when they entered. Zhou Mi ducked his head, his ears hot for some reason as he was smiled at, and he waved his greeting to the owner, too.
Kyuhyun tried to start neutral, asking about Zhou Mi’s day. But his very next question was, “I didn’t know you were about to leave. You didn’t tell me?”
Zhou Mi lowered his head. He hadn’t wanted to burden Kyuhyun, not when Kyuhyun had been so nice to him. And he hadn’t wanted Kyuhyun to pull away from him if Kyuhyun knew he wold be gone. It had been selfish, and he knew it.
“Sorry,” he signed. And he was frustrated, trying to sign in a way that Kyuhyun understood before he pulled out his notebook and scrawled it down instead. “I wanted to spend happy times with you.”
“They were happy, though,” Kyuhyun said slowly. “Did you think that I wouldn’t want to spend time with you if I knew you were going to leave?”
Zhou Mi shrugged, hunching down a bit as he stared hard at his menu. He knew what he wanted, point it out to Kyuhyun for him to order, and Kyuhyun heaved out a sigh, eyeballing him.
“I could’ve visited you sooner if I knew,” Kyuhyun told him. “I wouldn’t have just abandoned you. It has to be scary, just getting tossed out like that. I’m glad they found you a place to live and a job and all, but… Do you like it in that place? Really?”
“It is clean. Have to pay rent, and for food. Always waiting to be in trouble for something,” Zhou Mi wrote. And he punctuated it with a frown on the paper, and on his own face.
“Yeah, I bet. You grew up, but they’re not really letting you feel that way, huh?”
Zhou Mi nodded. He had a social worker, and she’d promised that if he got through his exams and kept his job, there’d be more opportunities. There had to be, really. But there was a truth he hadn’t said, and he signed it, because it was too much to put to paper.
“I’ll be happy there if I can still see you.”
Kyuhyun got most of it, caught on the “still” as Zhou Mi knew he would be. He wrote that word out, letting Kyuhyun puzzle as they started eating.
“You want to know if you can still see me there?”
“Happy,” Zhou Mi signed again.
“Oh, happy if you can still see me? Yes. As much as possible, to get you out of that little box of a room.”
“Studying for exams,” Zhou Mi said, signing it too, and Kyuhyun’s eyes went wide, putting down his soup spoon.
“And working, too?”
Zhou Mi shrugged again. Rent had to be paid. He bought himself candy once a week as a reward for getting through.
“Couldn’t they let you put that off until after the exams? Are you even able to study much?”
“Lights off early. Loud the rest of the time,” he wrote. “Doing the best I can.”
That didn’t make Kyuhyun’s frown much less, but he talked about other things, like the weather, or the food they were eating instead. It was fun. It was a relief to see Kyuhyun again. Kyuhyun talked to him in the car, too, idling outside of the home. He asked for the number of Zhou Mi’s social worker, if it was okay with Zhou Mi if he spoke to her. Zhou Mi, he had no objections, even if he was curious. All Kyuhyun had to say was that he had some questions for her. Probably making sure Zhou Mi got to study enough. He stuck his tongue out at Kyuhyun before he went inside, and Kyuhyun flashed his headlights at him. He was old enough that he didn’t need looking after, but the half hug Kyuhyun had given him before Zhou Mi got out of the car made him glad that he had someone who cared.
***
There were a lot of big sentences that referenced Zhou Mi as an adult and free to make his own choices. There were some that were negative, indicating that they thought he should stay in a group home for at least a year, for the socialization options it gave him. Beside him, Kyuhyun grunted because in his mind, getting Zhou Mi out of there and into some place “real” as he put it, would help Zhou Mi adjust even faster. Some place he could grow, instead of being watched like he was a prisoner, like he was going to get into trouble instead of having the chance to do something great. And especially, he could be some place he could study, uninterrupted. Zhou Mi didn’t know any other type of place, so what Kyuhyun suggested nearly set him adrift.
That place was with Kyuhyun’s parents, almost an empty nest, they had approved of taking in someone who needed a place of safety before he could get to his next step. A quiet place, a place that revered studying. Kyuhyun was eager to move out himself, but he still had a year of university to go and it was cheaper. Hard to party, with his parents almost always there. But the food was good, and the board was cheap. There wasn’t any money, not from the government because of Zhou Mi’s age. And when he offered to pay them, they flat refused. Chores, a few of them, and doing well on his exams were his payment. He got a hug every time he came home, and someone who scolded him if he stayed up too late, or didn’t eat. It was almost like getting the family he’d dreamed of having at eight, at ten, at fifteen.
Kyuhyun’s mother bought a set of magnet words, and Zhou Mi never left the kitchen without leaving a new sentence for her, whether he was doing the dishes or just going out to leave a glass. Things like “Thank you!” and “Have a good day!” Kyuhyun came along and left funny ones. Zhou Mi was never surprised that Mrs. Cho knew who had left what. She knew signs, too, a few, ones he thought that Kyuhyun taught her. Little things like delicious, thank you. At dinners, Kyuhyun translated for him, sometimes incorrectly which had Zhou Mi smacking at his shoulder and laughing at the ceiling as everyone at the table laughed.
Zhou Mi kept his job, though. A few nights a week wasn’t hurting anything, and the buses still got him back near to Kyuhyun’s home. They had their own rooms, though Kyuhyun seemed to enjoy crashing in Zhou Mi’s, poking around on his laptop and doing his homework while Zhou Mi studied. And Kyuhyun still played the harmonica for him, when Zhou Mi begged. It became too much, almost, to look at Kyuhyun when he played. Especially those moments when Kyuhyun looked up and met his eyes, and his throat went tight, and he had to look away.
He’d always admired Kyuhyun, wanted to be close to him. He’d told himself it was just friendly feelings, just happiness to be near him. It wasn’t what he’d given to Zhou Mi, even if it was so much, but after he’d left the orphanage, those weeks he hadn’t seen Kyuhyun, he knew how deep the thought of never seeing Kyuhyun again had cut. He couldn’t just go look, either. He’d just been a kid Kyuhyun was indulging. Love kind of hurt, he realized, when it felt hopeless, when he kind of caged it in, and even when he let himself imagine. The heat of it felt good, until it started to eat into him. But sometimes even the hurt felt good.
***
Zhou Mi knocked on the desk to get Kyuhyun’s attention, and Kyuhyun grinned up at him from the bean chair in the corner.
“Thirsty?” he signed.
“Please,” Kyuhyun said.
He’d told Zhou Mi he looked happier, and Zhou Mi asked how he did. “Your smile says everything,” Kyuhyun told him. He didn’t know how it did, or if Kyuhyun was just imagining things, or trying to boost Zhou Mi up, but he was mostly glad. He hoped his smile didn’t tell too much, or else Kyuhyun was going to see more that Zhou Mi meant to tell.
But it was difficult when Kyuhyun dreamed, flopped all over Zhou Mi’s bed and messing up Zhou Mi’s blankets. Kyuhyun talked about getting his own apartment, when he graduated. He talked about getting one big enough for him, and for Zhou Mi.
“What about a girlfriend?” Zhou Mi wondered. “If I’m there, you can’t party then?”
Kyuhyun looked surprised for a moment and then just laughed him off.
And Zhou Mi tilted his head, confused. Maybe he thought he could just kick Zhou Mi out when he wanted to be alone with someone. A second thought had crept in, of what if Kyuhyun wanted a boyfriend instead. And he wanted to ask. But that seemed rude, and it seemed too close to himself to ask it, too. If he asked if Kyuhyun wanted a boyfriend, maybe Kyuhyun would think that Zhou Mi wanted one. It wasn’t untrue, but maybe Kyuhyun’s parents wouldn’t want him there any more. Maybe Kyuhyun wouldn’t want him there. It was another way he was different. Not bad. Just different. It made him wistful, to have the things he wished for. He had a lot of them. Maybe it was selfish not to tell Kyuhyun all his secrets, but those secrets, at least, until he could provide for himself, kept him safe. It was not a betrayal, to protect himself. It wasn’t hurting Kyuhyun not to tell, not like it had been before when he hadn’t told Kyuhyun about him having to leave the orphanage.
***
It was when Kyuhyun found a job, was out looking for a place he wanted to live, that Zhou Mi discovered that he didn’t like change. Kyuhyun’s house had begun to feel like home. He liked his bed, and the bathroom where no one was knocking to hurry him up. He liked the pretty scents of his shampoo and soap that he got to buy with his own money, and his tiny secondhand movie collection. He liked seeing Kyuhyun’s wild morning hair, and eating Mrs. Cho’s cooking, and learning to make things as he watched and tried to absorb everything. She’d asked how they were going to eat, and Zhou Mi had demonstrated pouring cereal into a bowl, and making ramen. She’d swatted him on the head. The house was further from the university he was waiting to hear back from than where Kyuhyun wanted to live, but Zhou Mi had found a routine and it scared him to change it yet again.
The apartment wasn’t huge, but it was nice, big enough for two of them. Kyuhyun was going to make his deposit the next day, and there were anxious little tugs in his throat and his belly as he breathed and tried to focus on the movie they watched as a post-studying celebration.
“Zhou Mi,” Kyuhyun said, and he shifted, like saying Zhou Mi’s name wasn’t quite enough to get his attention. “You know... I don’t want a girlfriend. Ever.”
Zhou Mi stared at the high speed chase happening on the laptop in front of them, breathing carefully, his lungs feeling more complicated than they had been just a few minutes earlier. It felt like it was out of the blue but Kyuhyun had been starting and stopping saying something all night.
“My parents don’t know but,” Kyuhyun blew out a breath. “I wanted you to know, so you can decide if you want to move with me. My parents would be okay with you staying here if you really wanted, but I needed you to know before. I didn’t want it to be a surprise.”
It was a surprise, whether Kyuhyun knew all the ways it was or not. But his brain didn’t go too far. He was reasonable. He knew better than to think that Kyuhyun wanting a boyfriend would or ever could mean Kyuhyun wanting him.
“Thank you for telling me,” Zhou Mi signed to him. And he tried to make his smile as reassuring as possible. It put him in a corner he had not expected. It felt wrong, to hold back, when Kyuhyun had trusted him, had shared a part of himself to make sure that Zhou Mi wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He could have waited. He knew he could have waited, and Kyuhyun wouldn’t have been angry, but he wanted to say it so badly so that Kyuhyun knew him. Really knew him. “I won’t bring a girl home, too.”
“Because you won’t fold your socks?” Kyuhyun guessed, and laughed when Zhou Mi kicked his ankle.
“No, but maybe a boyfriend,” Zhou Mi signed. He didn’t even know if Kyuhyun knew it was the first time he’d ever told someone. “Don’t worry.”
They were both flustered, Kyuhyun pushing at his shoulder, making some weird sound. “Oh. Hey. So you’ll still move with me?”
Zhou Mi blew out a breath at Kyuhyun, and his movements were emphatic. “I want to stay with you.”
He was going to miss being babied by Kyuhyun’s mom, but he would have missed Kyuhyun more. He pretended to be grumpy when Kyuhyun tugged at him, but he went anyway, tucking his head down against Kyuhyun’s chest like he’d done a dozen times. He was still trying to figure out what was going on with the movie, while still wrapping his head around Kyuhyun, and Kyuhyun accepting who he was, and the fact that they were really going to be together, living together. Kyuhyun still wanted him around. He actually gnawed on his bottom lip to keep from tearing up, and he only sniffled once.
“You know, I can’t play the harmonica as late in an apartment,” Kyuhyun mused. Because that was absolutely what Zhou Mi was marveling over. He all but wheezed laughing.
And his eyes were only just a little wet, when the giggle that Kyuhyun hitched out at the poke to his belly made Zhou Mi smile.
***
Classes were an adventure. The ones he’d gone to had always been small, working around people who weren’t really like him. He always introduced himself to his professors, let them know he was there, that he was eager, that he was the equal of everyone in the class even if he had to find a different way of participating. He dreamed while wide awake exploring books, and trudged through required classes with Kyuhyun’s cheerleading.
Kyuhyun forgot to talk to him sometimes, signing quick retorts or questions. It made it easier in the grocery store sometimes, signing frantically from the ends of an aisle instead of shouting. Zhou Mi never regretted when Kyuhyun spoke instead, though. It just spoke to the ease he’d found in it. It was both satisfying and oddly frustrating when they snapped at each other through huffs and movements. He shut down if Kyuhyun shouted, so Kyuhyun stopped. He just stopped, until the quiet had one of them grabbing a moving hand and holding.
He watched Kyuhyun’s fingertips trace over his knuckles, and most times, they could start over. Discussing, really talking to each other.
And in four years of living together, he only gave Kyuhyun food poisoning once. And he had an explanation for that one.
Kyuhyun’s parents came to his graduation. Zhou Mi’s social worker, the head of the orphanage. He could see their pride in him. Maybe even their surprise. Kyuhyun wasn’t surprised. He’d cleared some of the path that Zhou Mi would have struggled down until he could struggle no longer, but he’d walked every step on his own. He didn’t just help to oversee the cleaning of the restaurant, he helped them to order, and helped to serve. And because he was there, some people came, because they knew he could sign to them. It was a welcoming place. A place that gave him a chance, when some wouldn’t have. Where he’d go after, whenever that was, he didn’t know. He didn’t have to know, not yet. When Kyuhyun went to the orphanage, they went together. And he wasn’t just going to show what they could be, but maybe to help clear their path a little, too. Even if it was with a smile, or a song. And he felt different. Newer, maybe. And every so often, he played a song for Kyuhyun on the harmonica instead, or on the little keyboard Zhou Mi had bought for himself.
“Congratulations,” Kyuhyun whispered, his nose nudging beside Zhou Mi’s as he trapped Zhou Mi against the bathroom counter. Quiet, after a rowdy celebration dinner with friends and the family Zhou Mi had found.
“Thanks,” he whispered back, squinting before giving in and just closing his eyes because Kyuhyun was so close. The wiggle of Kyuhyun’s lips against his was a tease, but Kyuhyun finally took pity and kissed him for real. And again, as Zhou Mi tilted his head back.
“Too tall,” Kyuhyun muttered, and Zhou Mi pushed him back, laughing.
“Always taller than you,” Zhou Mi signed, and Kyuhyun sniffed. Still, he let himself be reeled back in for another kiss.
Zhou Mi never did take a boyfriend home to their apartment. Though he never had to. The person he loved most already lived there.
***
