Chapter Text
Seungcheol knows that he needs to stop the cute pair of limbs the moment his three-year-old son got a hold of the black marker. There are clothes strewn everywhere, one halfway through his head too, and he’s resigned on the floor, catching his breath after barely thirty minutes of jogging, literally, around the flat to tend to him. The child got some supernatural energy going on in there and he’s come to the point of asking where did he get his genes from. But the child merely giggles in full mirth, chubby cheeks rolling up and huge doe eyes crinkling into crescents whilst making grabby hands toward his exhausted dad on the floor and Seungcheol decides he’s defeated so he lets the child play with it.
He should really have thought things out because by then, his giggly son finally finds out what a marker does when he pulls the cap open and drags the point across Seungcheol’s abdomen.
The dad sits up rather abruptly, surprising the small child when he squeaks a loud, “No, baby, don’t!” Why is he not wearing a shirt, again? Yeah, he got too sweaty from his impromptu exercise. Bad decision.
It took him five, six seconds before he finally registers the face of his son, whose eyes are now casing small tears and a big pout marring his thin lips with his head slowly bowing down and tiny fingers letting go of the big marker (too big for his little fist, that is) because why did his dad shout at him? He has a scary voice!
“I’m sorry,” is what Seungcheol whispers first, and then he scoops up the child into his arms as if to sooth him. He can’t handle his crying son. Not when his last tantrum happened, where he stayed up all night apologizing to their neighbors because he was wailing loudly at three am and they ended up calling their parents for help. Nobody told them parenting was this hard. “Shush,” he hums something to distract the child. “Do you want to play with the marker?”
His son nods, big head shaking up and down ever so slowly while he wipes his snot away with his gangly limb and Seungcheol now knows why his husband calls him a pushover.
Jeonghan comes home from the grocery two hours after and spots Seungcheol knocked asleep on the floor, just beside the couch. His face is drawn with little shapes on by what looks like a marker (he just had to make a silent prayer that it isn’t a permanent marker) and when Jeonghan remembers they have a son (why did he fucking forget?), he almost panics but not after, he notices the small bundle of blanket on the couch, also fast asleep, with Seungcheol’s arm propped beside the small child to act as barrier and keep him off from falling.
Jeonghan smiles.
He will have to make do of how to erase the drawings on the carpet but of course, not without reprimanding his boys.