Chapter Text
After he had calmed down a bit (and been reassured by the internet that there would be another egg sale soon), Namjoon set about deciding what to do. He could have called an orphanage or something, made his life easy and end the whole affair right then and there. But no. The little ball of squishiness just had to be too cute. It had barely been ten minutes since he’d meant Jungkook, but the baby was already growing on Namjoon. Plus, in Disney movies and stuff, orphanages were always evil.
So his first instinct was to call one of his friends. Hoseok popped into his head first. He was bright and cheerful, and he seemed like the type to be good with kids.
The line rang for what seemed like eternity before Hoseok picked up.
“Hey, Hobi!”
“Namjoon! What’s up?” his friend chirped. “It’s been forever!”
Namjoon scratched his head and sighed into the phone, “Well, I need your help. You see… uh… I’ve got a baby.”
It struck him just how wrong that sounded.
“Er, no! That’s not…! I-it’s not—” he tried to justify himself frantically. “I mean— you see—”
“Namjoon,” the other end of the line said, dead serious. Namjoon gulped. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”
It took a minute for those words to sink in.
“...I’M NOT PREGNANT YOU ASSHOLE!” Namjoon screeched.
“Oh, well, that’s too bad… I thought I was gonna be an uncle…” Hobi sighed.
“SHADDUP.”
His friend laughed. “So where’d the baby come from? I doubt you’d ever be able to get a girl, so, uh…”
“Damn you.”
“Love you too, Namjoony~”
“Okay, listen,” Namjoon groaned. “I need your help taking care of this kid. I don’t know what to do, and I don’t want to give him over to the authorities for… reasons.”
It would have been hella embarrassing to admit his affection for the fluff ball.
“I’m on my way!” Hoseok said. “Try not to kill the child before I get there.”
“Why you—”
The other end of the line went silent. As annoying as Hobi could be, Namjoon admired him and his cheerfulness. He was also glad for the help.
Namjoon stared at the infant, mesmerized by a droplet of drool that bounced up and down like a yoyo, not daring to fall and not daring to reenter the child’s mouth.
Then the doorbell rang, and Hoseok came to save the day.
But the first half hour, he spent his time very un-heroicly squishing Jungkook’s cheeks.
“Why, hellooo, wittle guy!” Hobi cooed. “Aren’t chu a cutie? Awwww, your cheeks are sho soft! Wittle mwister Jungkook! Coochie goo!”
“Would you stwop that? I mean, stop that!” Namjoon moaned.
Hoseok chuckled, “Sorry, he's just too cute.”
“What do I do with him?”
“Well, he's sleeping right now, so I don’t think—”
“WAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”
Namjoon’s ear cells almost died as the baby screeched loudly. Like, what the fuck? How could that tiny body contain enough air to cry that loudly?
“Namjoon!” Hoseok called. “Why’s he crying?”
“That’s MY line!” Namjoon yelled. “What do we do?! You’re supposed to handle him!”
“I’m just good at PLAYING with kids!”
Jungkook continued to wail.
“I’m calling Taehyung!” Hoseok announced, pulling out his phone.
“Wha— no! If that fucker learns about his kid, I’ll never hear the end of it! I don’t care if he’s your boyfriend, I’ll—”
“Hey, Taehyung?”
Namjoon had never felt so done in his life.