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"Strike one!"
"So...what does that mean again?"
Jeonghan turned to Mingyu, who was leaning forward, his chin resting on his hand. Mingyu chuckled softly, trying to hide his amusement.
"Jeonghan, you really know nothing about sports, do you?"
Jeonghan initially began to defend himself, but he stopped himself prematurely. Mingyu was right. He didn't know anything. He never had. When most little kids were playing in peewee baseball leagues or passing soccer balls in the park, then 7-year-old Yoon Jeonghan had stood in front of his vocal teacher's piano, singing show tunes and Brahms. When most teenagers were going to sports practice after school, Jeonghan rode the city bus to the theater for musical practice. He had totally missed out on the opportunity to play sports, and thus understood nothing as a closeted college student at a university baseball game.
Jeonghan sighed. "No, I don't. Please tell me what a strike is."
Mingyu began to delicately explain, speaking slowly so Jeonghan could catch on. But he was easily tuned out. Jeonghan watched the action on the field, understanding nothing but feeling curious nonetheless. He couldn't take his eyes off one boy. Mingyu might have said he was the shortstop. Or the third baseman. Jeonghan couldn't remember. No matter what position he played, he was all Han could focus on. He was moderately tall, perhaps 180 cm or so. His hair was a pretty reddish brown color, and small wisps of it hung in his eyes as he stood in an athletic position, ready for the ball to come hurtling down the field at any moment. A hint of a smile stained his lips, and Jeonghan liked that. He looked like he was having fun.
The boy was Xu Minghao, a Chinese international student and the object of all of Jeonghan's affections. Despite appearing to be polar opposites, Minghao and Jeonghan had become friends quickly as soon as they met. They often studied together, as both were top students. They spent most of their time together in the library. Minghao would quiz Jeonghan on chemistry, smiling slyly when Jeonghan answered a difficult question correctly. Jeonghan helped Hao practice his Korean, and answered questions as the younger boy mulled over his Korean language learner assignments. When homework was done, they enjoyed just sitting there in each others' company. Minghao would occasionally leaf through an assortment of poetry books he brought from home, all written in Chinese. He'd read to Jeonghan, who began to pick up on certain words. "Ai" was love, and whenever Minghao said that word, Han's heart skipped a beat.
It always puzzled Jeonghan that such a gentle, soft-spoken, and artsy boy was also a stellar baseball player. However, when Minghao talked about baseball, Jeonghan could feel his excitement. One day in the library, Jeonghan inquired as to how Minghao had been introduced to the sport.
“When I was young, there was a Chinese baseball league, and my parents and I would always watch together. My dad explained everything to me, and he quizzed me on the rules and the players’ stats. I think he would have liked to be a baseball player, had the league formed when he was younger. It's defunct now, but I still love baseball.”
Jeonghan smiled, honored that the quiet boy had shared this personal anecdote with him. “Well,” he decided, “I guess I’ll have to come to one of your games sometime. Although I will have no idea what is going on.”
Minghao giggled softly, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling up when he did so. “Bring that tall guy with you. He can explain it.”
Now it was Jeonghan’s turn to laugh. The librarian shushed him from the desk, and he blushed. “Mingyu. His name is Mingyu,” he whispered.
“He’s pretty athletic, right? Plays football?”
“Yeah, he does,” Jeonghan replied. “But I don’t know if he knows anything about baseball.”
“I don’t think it’s hard to know more about baseball than you, Jeonghan.”
Jeonghan elbowed him playfully, a tad embarrassed. “Fine. I’ll bring Mingyu with me.”
And so Jeonghan and Mingyu went to the first game. And the next. And the next. And now, their university’s team had made it to the semifinals. Jeonghan still didn’t really understand what was going on, but he enjoyed the atmosphere, and most of all, he enjoyed seeing Minghao in his element.
“Got it?”
Jeonghan snapped back into reality, realizing that he had entirely missed Mingyu’s explanation of the strikes. He popped a peanut into his mouth, nodding with uncertainty.
“What round is it?” Jeonghan asked.
“You mean inning?” Mingyu countered.
“Yeah. Round, inning, same-same.”
“It’s the bottom of the eighth.”
“And how many are there?”
“Nine.”
“So this next inning decides if Minghao goes to the finals?”
Mingyu laughed. “It decides if the whole team goes to the finals, not just your crush.”
Jeonghan punched his shoulder, playfully, but with a hint of real embarrassment. “Don’t call him that. We’re just friends.”
Mingyu took a long sip of his drink. “I don’t think people who are ‘just friends’” — he put air quotes around these words — “make out in each other’s dorm rooms, but whatever you say, Han.”
Jeonghan turned sharply towards Mingyu, the first time he had taken his eyes off the field for at least an hour. “I did not make out with him,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “We kissed one time and it was after he had soju for the first time so he was probably not in his right mind. And how do you even know about that?”
Mingyu put his hands up in surrender. “Wonwoo told me.”
“That Wonwoo, he’s got such a big mouth,” Jeonghan grumbled. “But Hao and I are just friends. I’m sure he doesn’t even remember that night. So don’t talk about it. Ever.”
“Calm down, buddy,” Mingyu said, a sly smile on his face. “I’m just fucking with you. Don’t let my joke ruin your mood. Plus, now is the time you need to be paying attention. It’s the ninth inning now. And his team is batting.”
Jeonghan startled, turning his focus back to the field. Minghao’s team was one point behind, so if he understood correctly, this was their last chance to catch up. Jeonghan clenched his jaw, perching tensely on the edge of his seat.
The first two outs happened quickly. One batter struck out, and the other got tagged at first base. The next batter was Minghao.
He stepped up to home plate, eyes ablaze, no sign of worry on his face. But Jeonghan could see the nervousness in the way he stood, the bead of sweat trailing down the right side of his face, the way he chewed on the large wad of bubblegum in his mouth.
The pitcher wound up and sent a fastball hurtling Minghao’s way. He swung the bat with astounding force, and
CRACK!
The ball soared toward left field, and Minghao ran like his life depended on it. Because, in that moment, it did.
“YES!” Jeonghan yelled.
Minghao rounded first base with ease, reaching second at a volatile time. The ball had been caught by one of the outfielders of the other team, and he was close enough that he could get Minghao out if he kept running towards third. But this was his dream. This was his last chance.
His legs propelled him towards third, and he slid in a last ditch effort to beat the ball to the base. A tornado of dirt billowed around the players, and audience members stood up and squinted to try to see whether he was in or out. The umpire stayed quiet for a second, painfully building the suspense. But his barking call made Jeonghan’s heart sink to the pit of his stomach.
“OUT!”
Jeonghan fell back into his seat, sighing deeply. “It’s over, isn’t it.”
Mingyu squeezed his shoulder, in an attempt to comfort his friend. “Yeah. It is. I’m so sorry, Han.”
The two boys watched as Minghao stood up, brushed the dirt off his white uniform, took off his helmet, and wiped the sweat from his brow. He walked defeatedly to the bullpen, saying nothing to any of his teammates. It was over.
“Go find him.”
Jeonghan turned to his friend, brow furrowed. “What?”
“Go find Minghao.”
“Mingyu, this isn’t even our school. You’d be crazy to think that anyone would let me in the locker room with no authority or reason to be there.”
“You do have a reason to be there,” Mingyu insisted. “You’re his friend. And he looks like he could desperately use a friend right now. Go find him.”
Jeonghan briefly mulled it over. He could get in trouble, but who really cared? His favorite person needed him. He got up from his seat, ran down the steps of the bleachers two at a time, and rushed towards the locker room.
~~~
Jeonghan snuck his way in among the chaos, keeping his head down so no one would realize he was out of place. He immediately saw the auburn head of hair he had dreamed about running his fingers through, and rushed to him.
“Minghao. Hi.”
Minghao jumped. “Jeonghan? What the hell are you doing in here?”
Jeonghan shushed him, pulling him into a corner where they were out of most people’s rage of sight. “I saw how disappointed you looked and figured you could use a...friend.” He stopped himself from saying what he really wanted to, and felt a pang of shame in his chest.
Minghao chuckled dejectedly. “I mean...I guess you’re right about that. But you’re really not supposed to be in here. We could get in big trouble.”
“Then let’s go somewhere. Anywhere. I just wanna...be here for you.”
Minghao let out a noise that seemed like the midway point between a sigh and a laugh. “Okay. Just let me get dressed first.”
Jeonghan’s face turned red as a tomato as he glanced down and realized that Minghao only had a towel around his waist. He must have just gotten out of the shower. He had to exercise great restraint to keep himself from looking Minghao up and down and admiring his athletic physique. Minghao walked to his locker, pulled out a drawstring bag, and started to get dressed. Jeonghan covered his eyes, definitely overcompensating in his attempt to appear not in love.
Minghao, finally dressed, pushed his wet mop of hair out of his eyes and grabbed his other belongings. “Okay. I’m ready.”
As they walked out together, Minghao’s hand brushed against Jeonghan’s once, twice, three times. Jeonghan felt his ears get hot, but kept quiet. It was probably accidental. No need to read too closely into things.
~~~
“Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t really know. Anywhere but here. I can’t stand to be here anymore.”
Jeonghan put his car into reverse and pulled out of the parking lot of the stadium. They sat in silence for a few minutes, with an old, familiar song playing on the radio.
Why are you so far away she said
Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you?
That I'm in love with you?
“Y’know it’s not your fault, right? L-losing, I mean,” Jeonghan said hesitantly.
“How could you say that?” Minghao retorted. Jeonghan, startled, started to apologize, but Minghao interjected. “I should’ve just stayed at second. Maybe then someone else could’ve gotten a run and we could’ve caught up. But I was selfish and kept going. I wanted to be the hero.”
“You were,” Jeonghan mumbled.
Minghao shook his head, leaning his head against the car window, allowing the bumpy road to jolt his head back and forth. “I just wanted it so bad. I wanted to make everyone proud. I wanted to call my dad and tell him I won the game. That his son was going to the finals. That I was doing what we both dreamed of.”
You're just like a dream
You're just like a dream
“I’m proud of you, Hao.”
“Thank you, Jeonghan. I just...I know I let my team down. And it took so long for them to accept me in the first place. Now...I don’t want to lose my friends because of my actions. I don’t want to be alone.”
I opened up my eyes
And found myself alone, alone, alone above a raging sea
“You’ll never be alone. Even if they turn out to be total jerks, you’ll always have me.”
Minghao smiled sadly.
“When heaven and earth mingle, not till then will I part from you,” Jeonghan whispered.
Minghao turned to him. “What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“No, that was definitely something. Was that...in Chinese?”
“Yeah. I probably said it wrong. But it was a line from one of the poems you read to me in the library. I liked it a lot.”
“No, you said it just right. I just…”
“What?”
Minghao looked down, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “Do you really feel that way about me?”
Jeonghan took a deep breath, pulling off to the side of the unpaved road they had found themselves on. “Minghao, do you remember when you tried soju for the first time? In your dorm room?”
Minghao nodded, swallowing hard. He had a feeling he knew what was happening, but he did not know how to handle it or how to slow his racing heartbeat or deny the warm feeling that was taking over his whole body. So he just looked into Jeonghan’s deep brown eyes and listened.
“I know I was drunk but I really did want to kiss you. And ever since then, I’ve thought about that kiss almost every day.”
Minghao nodded again, tears suddenly, inexplicably welling in his eyes. His face was burning hot.
“And I’d be honored if you’d let me do it again.”
Minghao let out a shaky exhale and released his seatbelt. He scooted all the way to the left, so he could be closer to Jeonghan. He was scared, but in his heart of hearts, he knew what he wanted. He leaned in, softly pressing his lips against Jeonghan’s. He felt hyper aware of everything: the chappedness of his own lips; the sweet, musky smell of Jeonghan’s cologne mixed with the lingering smell of earth; the sweet stinging electricity when Jeonghan put his hand on Minghao’s waist; the unbelievable fear overshadowed by raw ecstasy; the singular, swollen tear that rolled down his face. He had never felt this happy in his whole life.
Jeonghan pulled away for a brief moment, sensing the wetness leaking from Minghao’s eyes. He held Minghao’s face, and for a fleeting second, it felt like he had the whole universe in his hands.
“Oh, my boy. Oh, my sweet boy,” he murmured. He pressed soft kisses along his cheeks, forehead, and jawline, the saltiness of the tears tasting strangely sweet on his tongue.
“Please hold me,” Minghao said.
And although it was awkward and Jeonghan had to recline his seat as far back as it went and they felt kinda cramped, Minghao crawled into Jeonghan’s lap and rested his head against his broad chest. Jeonghan rubbed his back gently.
“You are so beautiful,” Jeonghan said absentmindedly. “You are everything and more.”
“I think I love you,” Minghao blurted out.
Instead of being shocked, Jeonghan just responded with, “You think so?”
“Yeah. Is that okay?”
Jeonghan tilted Minghao’s chin up and kissed him again, letting go of everything, all his inhibitions, all his embarrassment, all his shame. “Yes. Of course.”