Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

com·mu·ni·ty

kəˈmyo͞onədē

noun

1.

a group of people living in the same place or having a particular characteristic in common.

“Rhode Island’s Japanese community”

synonyms:          group, body, set, circle, clique, faction; More

2.

a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals.

“the sense of community that organized activities can provide”

There’s a small, suburban town on the outskirts of a bustling city.  Streets are all stringed together, perfectly aligned. Driveways sit plopped in between the freshly shaven grass with ivory white fences guarding them dutifully. Each driveway is equipped with the trendiest new line of mini vans in blacks and blues and silvers. The main attraction? Each has a cookie cutter home painted in pretty pastels.

And they all look just the same.

In that small, cookie cut, ivory fenced, suburban town, there lies a close knit community of people. A community of business suits and holiday parties. A community of carpooling kids and volunteer opportunities. A community of “Good Morning! Is Taekwannie over his cold yet?” and “Don’t forget to dress warm tomorrow. It’s supposed to be chilly.”

A community in which everyone knows everyone… and everyone knows everyone’s business too.

Welcome to Diamond Edge! The happiest place on Earth!

Besides Disney. Because no one can beat Disney.

“They really need to change the slogan.” Jeonghan drives past the wood engraved sign, muttering under his breath. He guesses whoever marketed this planned community thought they were hilarious. On the contrary, Jeonghan is not happy at all. He’d be a lot happier if he didn’t have a mini-van full of children screaming in his ear after the long day he had. As much as he tries to ignore them (face front, eyes on the road) he can’t help but look back every so often.

“Soonyoung! Please stop climbing over the seats when the car is in motion!” He hates raising his voice at children, truly he does. But they won’t be able to hear him otherwise so…

“Call me Kwon Fire, Mr. Choi!” The eight-year-old screeches as he once again passes over the middle seats to scramble to the back. Jeonghan is more than annoyed that Mrs. Kwon allows him to wear a cape to school. Not only because it snags and is a safety hazard, but her kid pretending to be a superhero is a hazard within itself. Also a hazard to his car. Those cleats were going to rip up his leather seats.

“Kwon Fire, please put your seat belt on.” He takes a deep breath afterward to ward away the migraine forming at the base of his skull. That pleases the hyper boy enough, so he buckles in to the three seater all the way in the back. Next to him, two kids are singing their lungs out like they’re on “The Voice”. Lee Seokmin, 8 and Boo Seungkwan, 7. And now with Kwon Fire squeezed in beside them, their duo turns into a trio and the volume increases by tenfold.

…From your roommate back in Boulder. We ain’t ever getting older.

Jeonghan hates this song. He wonders if they even understand the lyrics because no kid of his is going to be pulling anyone closer in the backseat of this rover. Well it’s a 2018 Honda Odyssey, but same difference.

Speaking of his kid, Chan is quietly sat in his booster seat next to Hansol in the middle row. The 7-year-old next to his son had his headphones on, bopping his head and staring out the window. Chan and Hansol are usually the quietest of the bunch and for that, Jeonghan is much appreciative.

Chan sits, swinging his cleated feet inches from off the ground and mouthing the words even if he doesn’t understand English all too well. Thank God he doesn’t. He made eye contact with him through the rear-view mirror and Chan lets a big beaming smile grace his lips. That smile brightens his entire world and even if Jeonghan was stressed out just a minute ago, he’s a little less on edge now.

Sigh, my kid is such a good kid, Jeonghan thinks to himself. Not that the others are bad, per se.

“Leave your shoes by the door please.” Jeonghan calls after the others scrambling into his home. He’d almost missed his street once and almost missed it again when he had to police Seungkwan and Seokmin from some argument that broke out. Before they knew it, the overly sensitive Seokmin was crying a waterfall. But eventually, they make it to the Choi residence safe and sound.

Chan, the angel he is, stays behind to make sure his dad can carry everything into the house. Being the big boy he is, he grabs his two-sizes-too-big backpack and waits as Jeonghan unloads some snacks from the trunk. Chan takes the chips—the only thing he can really carry.

“How was your day, bud?” Jeonghan hadn’t got the chance to ask him between soccer practice pick up and the hectic car ride home. He was quite distracted, he’ll admit.

“It was okay. We got a new class pet today.” Chan’s eyes light up with a sparkling innocence. He loves animals, but Jeonghan had sworn them off so as not to ruin his crème colored nylon carpets.

“That’s great! But…. What happened to…” he trails off. He doesn’t have the heart to finish his question. Chan’s trembling lower lip convinces him well enough to let it go.

Rest in peace, Timmy the Turtle.

“These sandwiches are the best! Thank you, Mr. Choi!” Hansol finally took off his headphones as his attention was drawn in by the food Jeonghan set out on the island. It was just a turkey sandwich, but he gnaws on it like he’d never eaten one before. The boys, comfortable in their tall stools are scarfing down whatever goodies they can get their tiny hands on. Tuesday is Jeonghan’s carpool day for soccer practice and he always has food ready for the kids once they get home. Eventually the other parents will start trickling in to pick up their children and they’re always low-key jealous of Jeonghan’s high-key spoiling of them, but that’s just how it works in suburbia. He takes pride in being the cool parent.

After a quick study session and chasing the five of them around the house as they played super hero with none other than the infamous Kwon Fire leading the way, Jeonghan is exhausted. Only Chan remains and Jeonghan scoops him up after a final round of hide and go seek. He still hasn’t mastered the art of hide though. His little toes always stick out in the most obvious places.

“I found you!” He exclaims after hoisting Chan up into his arms. The six-year-old screams before the sound bubbles down to a boisterous laugh. Even when he was just a toddler, his laugh was the purest thing to grace one’s ears. Like the sound itself was made out of summertime sunshine and sickly-sweet ice cream.

“Daddy! Put me down!” Chan keeps giggling while Jeonghan lifts him high in the air before pulling him back down and cradling him to his chest. Chan was getting to that age where he wasn’t too heavy to be lifted but was enough so that it took a little extra effort to swing him around like he wanted. Soon he’d be too big for nighttime kisses and cuddles on Sunday mornings. Oh, how time flies when you’re growing old.

Chapter Text

“You will not believe the day I had.” Jeonghan seethes. He is pacing a hole into their plush, crème carpet and Seungcheol doesn’t have the nerve to stop him. So, he lets him vent. “I don’t get it. Why come to a volunteer event if you don’t do any of the volunteering? Like all you’re doing is getting in the way, right?”

“Right.”

“You know how hard I worked today?”

“Very hard, Han.”

“Yes. Very hard. I guess ‘cause I’m one of the only dads there, they give me all the hard jobs. But half of them literally sit around and do absolutely nothing.” Jeonghan rolls his eyes, still tracking back and forth. He is livid. He’d been holding in his frustration all day because he had no one else to rant to. He can’t complain in front of the kids because half of them are the source of the complaint….. it’s usually about one of their parents…. they can spread gossip like wildfire. And now, Chan is asleep after his bubble bath and his husband is home and God, he just needs to rant. “I brought and set up all the tables for the displays. I hauled those heavy, tacky barrels in. And there were like 50 chairs I had to lug back and forth for the PTA members. And would you know Janice’s lazy ass didn’t offer to help once? She sat there and bossed me around!”

“I’m so sorry babe.” Seungcheol had been lost after ‘you will not believe the day I had’, but he’s good at blindly responding, he thinks.

“I’m just so frustrated. It’s like she’s gotta vendetta against me! Or a big stick up her ass. She’s bossy just like that snooty brat of hers.”

“Mrs. Janice?” Chan walks up like a ghost from the Shining effectively making Jeonghan’s blood run cold and skin turn pale. Did he hear that?

“Chan, baby. What are you doing up?” Jeonghan held out his arms and scooped up the younger. His anger is quickly replaced with concern.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Chan yawns, rubbing his eyes with his chubby balled up fist. His cotton dinosaur pajamas are slowly growing too tight, but they’re his favorite so he squeezes in them anyway. “Why are you fus-traded?” Chan, never the one to let anything go looks up to Jeonghan with his droopy eyes. The tired frown on his face accents his youth. Oh, the innocence.

Jeonghan shot panicked eyes at Seungcheol and his husband shrugged in response. You’ll have to fight this battle on your own.

“No Chan-ah! Why would I be?” Jeonghan feigns ignorance. His inquisitive, observant little minion knows him better.

“You just said so. You said Mrs. Janice was being mean to you… What did she do?”

Seungcheol can’t hide his snicker at Jeonghan’s shocked expression.

“No baby! You must have misunderstood. She didn’t do anything.” He says sweetly then tersely tacks on “Not a damn thing.” Seungcheol calls out his name warningly and he replies with raising both his eyebrows with a shrug. Chan doesn’t even notice he used a potty word because he’s still so sleepy.

“Mis-unstood?” Chan yawns and furrows his eyebrows.

“Yes. Me and her are good friends.” Jeonghan tries fails to reason with his kid, but he’s not dumb. The grimace probably gives him away. Chan gets his wit from him so he knows very well that he’s been caught red handed.

“If she’s your friend she won’t be mean to you.” He’s still looking up at Jeonghan with those sleepy eyes and pouty mouth and he gives up.

“You are right, baby. Anyone who is mean to you is not a friend.” He gives a big wet kiss to his forehead and pretends not to be hurt when Chan wipes it off. “We gotta get you to bed. Give Daddy a kiss and say goodnight.” He leans down enough to let Chan give Seungcheol a kiss and for Seungcheol to return one. He pretends not to be even more hurt when he doesn’t wipe Seungcheol’s kiss off like he did his own.

“Did you wanna give Daddy a kiss too?” Seungcheol bats his eyes with a goofy grin plastered on his face and puckers his lips toward his husband. Jeonghan wants to punch him for the innuendo, but plays along.

“Later.” Jeonghan turns quickly and starts walking Chan back to his room. He turns and gives his husband a quick wink and disappears into his kid’s room to tuck him back in.

As soon as Chan is out of sight and Jeonghan is back within arm’s reach, Seungcheol gathers him in his arms and pulls him down to sit with him on the couch. His husband has always fit comfortably on his lap. He nuzzles his head into his shoulder, tightening his arms. Jeonghan sighs in his hold. They just spend a couple minutes in silence because they don’t get that too often.

“Does Daddy still get his kiss?” Seungcheol tilts his face up to look at his husband. Puppy eyes didn’t work on him, but the promise of Seungcheol’s soft lips against his own works like a charm. As if he can’t resist, Jeonghan leans down and their lips lock like so many times before. Even after five years of being together, each kiss is as electrifying. Jeonghan shifts a little bit more of his weight onto Seungcheol (not caring if he’s heavy) and buries his head back into the crook of his neck.

“I don’t know why I put up with them.” Jeonghan is much quieter this time. The fire within him simmers down until all that’s left is the ashes of his despair. He was always known as the dramatic one in his small group of friends, but he really thinks his anger is justified this time.

“Because you love the school. And you love your son.” Seungcheol brings a soothing hand to his back, stroking it.

“I guess you’re right.” Jeonghan concedes, but it seems like his gears shift. “You know… it wouldn’t be as hard on me if more dads did sign up for volunteer days.” He perks up in his lap and stares down at his husband. “I mean, you do have some free time on the weekends and we could use the help.”

Oh no. Here it comes.

“I don’t know, Han…”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

And there it is.

Jeonghan is off of his lap in an instant, pushing back his auburn hair and unconsciously glaring at his husband. He sits on the couch, pivoted towards him, but Seungcheol can’t find the strength to face him head on.

“I wouldn’t know the first thing about what you guys do and I wouldn’t want to mess up everything.” Seungcheol tries to reason.

“No, we can use all the help we can get. Especially with Janice’s lazy ass never helping. Between Joshua and I, we’re the only men on the team.”

“Wait, what?” This gets Seungcheol’s attention. “Joshua? That’s your friend from high school, right?” 

“Yeah, I only know one Joshua, Seungcheol.” He rolls his eyes in that dramatic way he always does.

“Oh… So is he taking the place of his wife or do they volunteer together?

“Wife? I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have one considering he’s gay.” Jeonghan is beyond confused now. Does he really not talk about Shua enough for him to not know this simple fact?

“Wait, wait, wait, wait. Joshua is gay? For how long?” Seungcheol doesn’t think he’s the jealous type. After all, Joshua is just his friend. That he hangs out with almost every day with the PTA. That is also gay. No, he doesn’t get jealous easily at all.

“Umm… What the fuck Seungcheol? Since like… forever? He didn’t wake up yesterday like ‘Oh, I’m gay now.’ Why does it even matter?” But to Seungcheol it matters. He has faith in his husband. He trusts him. But that Joshua guy? Who knows what he’s been up to?

“So he’s got a boyfriend or something?” Seungcheol tries to act all nonchalant, like he isn’t that interested in the answer, when in reality, a cold sweat breaks out on his brow and he’s hoping with every last strand of his sanity that Jeonghan will say yes. Yes, he has a boyfriend. And no, he is not looking for one with high cheekbones, a dazzling smile, and the stamina of an actual sloth.

“He’s a single dad. Is that a problem? You know, you’d probably know some of these things if you ever came to one of the—”

“When’s the next event?” Seungcheol’s statement catches him of guard. He’d been pushing the idea for Seungcheol to join the PTA or at least volunteer for one of the events for at least 3 months when he felt slightly out of place at the lack of testosterone in the meetings.

“What?” Jeonghan looks at him dumbly.

“The next one. When is it?” Seungcheol repeats. He’s serious and that look has never looked sexier.

“Next Saturday.” Jeonghan sorts through the calendar in his head. “We’re having a bake s—”

“Will he be there?” Seungcheol cuts him off. Again.

“He who? Shua? Of course! He’s always there. Why are you so interested in him now?”

“I’m not. You just said I should be more involved in my child’s life so that’s what I’ll do. I’ll come this Saturday.”

Jeonghan is over the moon in .2 seconds. Janice and her bitchiness, BooSeokSoon and their screechiness, stupid suburbia and it’s “Happiest place on Earth” sign all melt away when Seungcheol finally caves. He finally gets Seungcheol to at least try to participate and knows his work load will be significantly less with him there. He doesn’t know what did it, what changed his mind, but he’s glad it did.

“Cheollie!” He elongates the “ee” at the end, aegyo at it’s best. “Thank you so much! I love you, ya know?” He replaces himself on his lap, facing him with his legs straddling his thighs. He cups his face with his hands and lands a wet kiss on his cheek. He peppers kisses all over his face because really, he’s so happy. All the moms and their judgmental stares will have nothing against this power couple. They’ll never stand a chance against the infamous Jeongcheol.

“Time for bed.” Seungcheol’s husky voice makes his stomach erupt in butterflies. He wraps his hands firmly under his husband’s thighs, holding him tight to himself. In one swift motion, Seungcheol stands, shocking Jeonghan by lifting him a few feet higher off the ground. Seungcheol connects their lips in a less than holy kiss and Jeonghan is afraid he’s somehow awoken a beast.

Seungcheol just wants to give his husband a friendly reminder of what he can offer that that Joshua guy can’t.

No wonder Jeonghan is always so stressed and moody after one of their volunteer days.

Seungcheol shows up after dropping Chan off at dance class and picking up a few things from the store Jeonghan swore they needed. Extra cases of water, bags of ice to cool them, and strawberries ‘cause Jeonghan just likes to snack.  He looks around at all the booths lining the school’s grassy courtyard. It looks like something out of a dream. Who knew someone would go to such extreme measures for a bake sale. The most he thought he’d see would be a couple of tables set out with some assorted cakes from the local mini mart, but this…. this is more like a pastry carnival.

At least eight different booths and tables are set up, each decorated with flamboyant details. The next is even more extravagant than the last. The colors are bright and contrast each other with a new theme each block down. Some moms manning the booths have even adorned mini costumes to match their themes. It doesn’t stop at the booths though. Trees line the sides of the field with streamers dangling from their branches. Who even climbed up all of those to hang that many fairy lights? It’s pretty. But also going to be pretty annoying when someone has to take them down.

Jeonghan shares a table with Joshua (much to Seungcheol’s chagrin). They both wear halo crowns, flowing white shirts, and washed out blue jeans. Their table is painted in all white with fluffy cotton stuffing poofed up at the base to make it look like the whole thing is floating on a cloud. The name displayed on the sign attached says “Heaven’s Gate” in curly, gold script. The feathers decorating the table cloth are soft and eloquent and everything about their set up sings “grace”. But Jeonghan’s an angel from hell, Seungcheol thinks. If only they knew.

Honestly, Seungcheol feels out of his element seeing everyone all dressed up and in position. He doesn’t really know where to go after dropping the ice and water in the coolers by the main office of the elementary school. He wants to go join his husband’s side, when Janice Park stops him from doing so. He only knows it’s her because of the snake like eyes Jeonghan is always describing (and the sticker on her shirt that says Hello, My name is…)

“Well, hi there! It’s always lovely seeing fresh faces around.” She smiles a friendly smile, but if Jeonghan was here, he knows he’d mutter it was venomous.

“Hi…” Seungcheol awkwardly begins, adverting his eyes to the side to try and get his husband’s attention. His husband’s focus is more on the mom who just walked up to make a purchase. He’ll just have to grit his teeth and bear it then.

“You know… we don’t get many dads to come and volunteer, so this is wonderful! We need someone strong and handsome on our team.” Seungcheol tries not to let his uncomfortableness show at the compliment. “Actually, we were one hand short when Sanha’s dad pulled his back this morning hanging the lights up…” Go figure. “…so I think It’d be great if you could stand in and takeover his spot for now.

“Sure. I’ll be glad to help.” Seungcheol is good at charming people with his smile. Jeonghan says he used it to trick him into marriage, but hey, he isn’t complaining now. So he grins down at the fussy lady and pretends to be a lot more interested than he really is.

And that’s how he gets roped into tugging a ridiculous red wagon around to restock the treats when someone gets low of a particular batch of something. He feels like a mule as he makes rounds to and from the school’s front lobby and the courtyard. He’s grateful it’s autumn and the weather shows some pity, but he still breaks a sweat. Quite a sweat.

It was kind of awkward having to go to each of the moms’ booths to drop off their goodies. It was odd how they’d always feel the urge to lean down slowly to help him distribute whatever pastry they needed. He assured them it was okay, but they kept insisting, batting eyelashes. Some liked touching or squeezing his upper arm and thanking him for all the hard work he was doing. Even more so, it felt like eyes were watching his every move. He knew his shirt was clinging to his skin from the sweat and he had to constantly push his hair back from his face so their stares only made him more self-conscious. Did he look that bad?

The “Heaven’s Gate” table was always busy so Seungcheol had to continuously grab more angel food pound cakes and lemony white powdered cookies because Joshua was apparently “such an amazing cook”. Cue eyeroll.

After everything had seemed to calm down and people were just casually strolling and enjoying whatever snacks they had bought, he finally got a break. He went over to his husband’s table where he and Joshua were chatting and instantly found himself glued to his back. He hugged his arms around his waist and let his body cool down. Jeonghan instantly convulsed, his angelic persona cracking for just a moment. He gasps in mild shock, but not from being caught off guard.

Seungcheol pulls away and doesn’t realize he’s pouting so hard until Jeonghan points it out.

“First off, you’re super sweaty and I can’t have you stain my blouse right before they come around for pictures. Secondly, there’s like 500 kids running around and PDA is strictly off limits. Sorry, hon.” He smiles sadly at his husband knowing how the overgrown child acts when he doesn’t get the attention he wants. He lifts up his hand instead for a high-five and Seungcheol can’t help but scoff at it. He intentionally leaves the other hanging as he seeks out a bench on the side to go rest on. He’ll just take his sweaty hugs somewhere else.

He was still close enough to Heaven’s Gate that he could hear the conversations being held. That is, if he wanted to hear. But he was also far enough that it wouldn’t garner any attention toward himself.

A female photographer appears with a huge camera dangling from her neck. She seems harmless enough, Seungcheol thinks. Until she opens her mouth.

“Aww! You two are so cute in your little halos. I’ll buy three extras if you do a heart for the camera.” She croons and probably winks too, Seungcheol can’t see from his angle, but he’s sure she was actually the devil in disguise. And of all the hearts they could do—hand hearts, finger hearts, they decide to go with a classic couple look. Jeonghan curves his arm over his head, while Joshua mimics him, connecting their hands together to make an arching heart gesture all while smiling into the camera. Joshua’s other hand slips a little too low on Jeonghan’s back for his taste and Seungcheol finds himself losing his patience. 

PdA iS oFf liMitS

Okay. Maybe he does get a little jealous from time to time. But can you blame him?

“Hey, Han?” Joshua asks after Ms. I-Think-I-Should-Be-A-Photographer-for-Vogue leaves to snapshot every other second of the event for their school’s web site. The other hums, plopping another strawberry (from where Josh doesn’t even know) past his lips. “Why is Janice glaring so hard at you?”

Jeonghan stops mid-chew, looking at Josh. Then upon realizing what he says, squints his eyes into pointed little slants and scans the perimeter.

“Jeonghan, no. Please don’t look.” Joshua tries to stop him, but before he knows it, Jeonghan and her are staring each other down with a fierce look between them. Never one to back down, Jeonghan holds the gaze a little longer and the woman eventually looks away first. A smug grin climbs his face and he feels more triumphant than he should for winning a staring contest at the ripe old age of 28.

“Do you think she knows I hate her?” Jeonghan huffs haughtily.

“I don’t know. She actually might. Usually you two butt heads and move on, but I kid you not, she’s been glaring at you every time you breathe.”

“Hmm…” Jeonghan really tries not to be problematic. He keeps his frustrations to himself because he knows that community is key to a happy, successful environment. So even if he absolutely loathes the woman, he’ll at least act cordial with her. “I don’t give her reason to. Maybe she’s just extra salty today?” He shrugs and goes back to his strawberry eating. He hadn’t done anything to provoke her this week. Hadn’t said a word to her or about her, so he had no idea why she would be—

Wait.

“Oh shit. Shua. Is she looking still?” Jeonghan asks without scanning this time.

“It’s more like a deep scowl, but…”

“Oh shit. I pissed her off.”

“That much is obvious. But what did you do?”

“I think it’s what did Chan do…”

Jeonghan swears he sees his life flash before his eyes. The hostility within that woman had never been so focused before. It’s like something tipped her off. And now thinking back on it, the change had occurred after the late night chat he’d had with his husband when his six year old stumbled out his bed and upon their grown up talk. He wanted to believe he had nothing to do with this, but he knows his kid. He’s very noble at his age and if he feels someone has wronged someone close to him, he will address it. He knows he needs to have a talk with his son later, but for now, he needs to figure out what to do.

“This gossip keeps getting juicer.” Joshua laughs looking at Jeonghan’s perplexed expression.

“I really don’t want any drama, Shua. They already give me enough hell as it is. What if she gets me kicked out the PTA or makes the others hate me too?” Jeonghan whines quietly. He’s now a lot more cautious and aware of who hears his conversations. “Should I confront her or just let it go?”

“What is this? High school? No. We’re going to ignore it and eventually it will go away.” Joshua shrugs. Jeonghan is good at that. At ignoring his problems. Well if that’s what Josh thinks, then so be it. There will not be a final showdown today.

“You’re right. It’s not like I did anything wrong in the first place.”

“I’m sure calling her a lazy ass constitutes as wrong.”

“Fucking shit, Seungcheol. Where did you even come from?” Jeonghan hisses under his breath. He then follows up with, “It’s not wrong if it’s true.” His husband is always so supportive, and he loves him. Even when he’s being a troll and sneaking up behind him to make him feel like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be.

“I just came to say that Chan’s over at Mrs. Kwon’s now. Dance class ended a little early so she just brought him home with her.” Seungcheol knows his husband so well, he practically sees the words tumble from his lips before he thinks them.

“We have to go.” Jeonghan is already gathering his bowl of strawberries and his belongings. “I can’t have them tainting my child.”

Joshua looks shocked to see him move so quickly. “Soonyoung is a great kid.” He argues.

“And an even greater superhero.” Seungcheol is miserably failing at holding his laugh back. Although he remembers vividly Chan busting his lip from the two little boys nose diving off of the couch, he came to realize that Chan wasn’t going to learn from his mistakes if he never experienced any. Jeonghan, on the other hand believes preventing the mistakes from happening in the first place was a better learning experience. He was ready to go pick up his child now.

“I can handle clean up on my own!” Josh shouts to a retreating Jeonghan. “Not that I’d get much help from you anyway.” He mumbles.

“You know… It wasn’t that bad.” Seungcheol says as he makes a right turn. “I think I want to volunteer more often.”

Jeonghan reaches over and decides to lock their hands over the center console. “That’s great. It was nice having you there by my side.”

“Joshua was more by your side than I was but okay.”

“Eyyy. Choi Seungcheol.”

“Next time we’re running a booth together.”

“I would love that.” Jeonghan smiles.

Seungcheol begins to make another right, vaguely remembering the way to The Kwon residence, but swerves back into his lane when Jeonghan all but screeches that he’s going the wrong way. All these suburban houses look the same anyway. It’s hard to remember if it’s right then right then left or right then left then right. He always tells Jeonghan that he can drive if he wants to dictate from the passenger side, but the younger often decides that it’s better if he doesn’t. They finally make it to the right house and thank Mrs. Kwon several times for her kindness. (But not before Jeonghan is checking every inch of his kid to make sure there are no new bumps or scratches)

“Chan-ah?” Jeonghan begins the conversation, turning around as best he can from the passenger side to stare at his kid. He’s innocently kicking his little feet while singing along to a song on the radio. “I have to ask you something and I need you to tell me the whole truth, okay buddy?” Chan nods solemnly. He can tell by the tone in his dad’s voice that he did something wrong. He hates when his dad is upset with him. “Did you have a talk with Mrs. Janice?”

He hums to think it over. “I talk to her sometimes…”

“Did you talk to her this week?” Jeonghan asks, slowly prodding him into the direction he wants Chan to go. Chan feels like a scary monster is leading him to a trap. He does remember talking to her. Remembers exactly what he said too. But, he doesn’t want to get in trouble if talking to her is bad. Seungcheol is piecing it together as he glances back toward his son in the review mirror. He continues on their way home.

“Yes.”

“Care to elaborate, Chan?” Jeonghan is still prodding, but his son is not budging  easily.

“E-lab-rate?”

“Explain, baby. Like what did you talk to her about?”

“Am I in trouble?” Chan finally asks.

“Only if you don’t tell me the truth.”

“I told her to stop being mean to you!” Chan lets the words fall like water out of a spout. He feels a weight lift from his chest. “I told her that you were really upset and that she should be nicer to you, so you could be friends because friends aren’t mean to their friends.” He’s starting to ramble, but at least it’s the truth so he won’t get in trouble. “I only did it so you wouldn’t be sad. I don’t like it when you’re sad, daddy!”

Jeonghan really loves his kid.

“Thank you. That was really sweet of you.” He can’t be mad at him for starting unnecessary drama when he was only trying to protect his dad. “But grown ups do have problems sometimes. It’s best if you let us work it out ourselves instead of getting yourself involved too.” (Even though Jeonghan would have honestly never had the balls to confront her himself) “You don’t have to worry about it.”

“Okay.” Chan nods dutifully.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

Chapter Text

“Thank you everyone for showing up so promptly! I know we’ve got a few kids at practice and others at clubs. I’ll keep this brief so you’re ready when they’re ready.” Jeonghan sits in the front row of the classroom. They borrowed the science room for their meeting today since their usual place was being occupied. Janice stands at the front next to the head of the PTA. She thinks she’s the police or whatever, but no one ever takes her seriously. People are fanning themselves as it’s gotten a bit warm with all the people clustered in there.

“First thing’s first, the bake sale went great!” Small cheers break out and Jeonghan claps along knowing damn well his contribution made a big difference. No one can resist an angel. “We raised a lot of money and as promised, the art club will be getting new materials, as well as the robotics team getting some new equipment. Make sure to check out the pictures on our EVENTS page.” More clapping. “Now next on our agenda, we’ll be looking to raise some money for the soccer team to get new uniforms for next season.” Thank God they’re doing this fundraiser instead of making them pay out of pocket again. Jeonghan’s wallet will be happy. “The kids also want to be treated for pizza on their last game so we’ll be raising for that as well.

“I’ll be handing it over to Mrs. Lee to explain more about that event.”

“Thank you. Alright. This year we are very excited to announce that the fundraiser event for the soccer team… drum roll please,” Various degrees of enthusiastic thumps fill the room. “…will be a soccer match!” Everyone shares confused looks. She quickly goes on to elaborate. “….By the parents!”

Perfect. Jeonghan thinks. His hidden gem is that he’s extraordinary at sports. Don’t let his soft features and pristine demeanor fool you. He was able to ace just about any sport if given the opportunity. This had his name written all over it. Plus, it was a good way to show that he wasn’t the prissy soccer dad everyone expected he was. He’d been called quite a few names in the past, but this would change all of that.

“It will be a great opportunity for us to bring in some much-needed funding for the team and to allow the kids to have some fun watching the roles get reversed. Moms are of course welcomed, but we’d also like to get some of the dads on board too. We’re trying to also keep it to one participant per family so no one kid feels slighted. So… we’ll start taking names down if you or your spouse is interested.”

Jeonghan’s hand shoots up along with a few other hesitant ones. The lady calls on him first, noticing how eager he was.

“Ah! Jeonghan-ssi! You seem so excited.” She giggles.

“I am. It’s such a great idea and—”

“So I will go ahead and put Seungcheol down for the Choi family.” She cuts him off and begins to search for more hands.

“Wait… I was actually thinking—”

“Did you see him the other day lugging around that wagon? He’s got such endurance.” Some lady from across the room bellows.

“Excuse me. I’m actually great at spor—” Jeonghan tries again, but is quickly cut off by someone from his other side.

“And just imagine all the tickets we’ll sell. I’d spend my whole paycheck on a ticket to see him run around the field.” The others start laughing, hiding behind their dainty hands and… what the fuck is actually happening, Jeonghan thinks.

“Hey! That’s my husband you’re talking about.” Jeonghan sounds intimidating, but the others can’t help but laugh anyway.

“We know! Lucky you!” Someone suggestively states. Jeonghan swears this one hides from him because when he looks in the direction of the comment, all of the moms are smiling faux innocent smiles and batting their fake eyelashes. He doesn’t know which one it was, so he scowls at all of them. He puts his hand back down in his lap, crosses his leg, then pouts. He feels defeated. He reeeeally wanted to be the one to play in the match. But faster, stronger, sexier Choi Seungcheol wins without even showing his face. It just wasn’t fair.

“I will be sending out the invitations via email later this week. Thank you! You are dismissed.”

The entire car ride home, Chan is explaining how his day went so well because of the science experiments and the PE games and the goal he made at soccer practice. Jeonghan really is proud of him and praises all of his accomplishments for the day, but deep down is still the sad lump of disappointed he was when the PTA meeting ended. They’d come up with a list of volunteers and said they’d be finalizing it in two weeks once all the planning is done. Even when Jeonghan is cooking dinner or helping Chan with his homework, he’s sulking to himself. Of course Chan notices and asks “Grown up things?” to which Jeonghan replies “Grown up things.”

Right before dinner, Seungcheol comes home and they eat while Chan recounts his full day to his other dad. Said dad in turn tells him about his. No one even asks how his day went though. So he keeps the pity party to himself.

After Chan is washed up and put to bed, the dishes are clean, and both husbands are showered and ready for bed, Seungcheol finally addresses the elephant in the room.

“Hey, what’s wrong baby?” Both of their backs are to the headboard, Jeonghan sitting with his knees drawn up. “I was going to ask earlier but…”

“Just a little…” He heaves a BIG sigh, “…disappointed.”

“In what?” Seungcheol scoots closer to the other, entwining his large hands with his husband’s. Jeonghan’s head naturally finds the crook in his neck as he snuggles into his big oaf. He isn’t mad at him, but the praises he received from earlier (that he isn’t even aware of) still float in Jeonghan’s mind.

“Well… The PTA is hosting a soccer match between the parents to raise money for the team.”

“Well that’s great isn’t it?”

Another BIG sigh.

“Yeah it is. And they were asking for volunteers and everyone apparently remembers you from the bake sale so they want you to participate…”

“That’s even better, right? I mean, I would love to! It sounds like fun.” Seungcheol is practically beaming. He’s flattered they even thought of him. He wants to feel useful in the community for once and make his kid proud seeing him running down the field. Jeonghan doesn’t want to burst his bubble or make him feel bad or anything, but he reeeeally reeeeally wanted to play in the match.

“It does. Sound like fun. And I’m glad you wanna do it but… I kindawantedtodoittoo…” Jeonghan slurs all the words together and mumbles them really lowly. Why does he feel so embarrassed?

“Jeonghan. You know I can’t hear you right?”

“UGH!” He groans and fidgets. “I wanted to be the one they chose!” Jeonghan lets go of his hand to cover his face instead.

“Awww! Hannie.” He singsongs. “What is this? Are you jealous?” Seungcheol feels the other burrowing deeper into his side, hiding his face. He feels the warmth radiating off of the other as he wiggles and whines like Chan does when he wants ice cream before dinner. He’s known his husband long enough to read him well.

“No one thinks I’m sporty, but I could probably beat you in several games!”

“Woah! That’s big talk coming from the ultimate sloth.” Seungcheol is poking at his sides to get him to look up at him, but Jeonghan much rather prefers to keep his head buried in his husband’s chest so he can’t see his blush.

“I am a sloth by choice. It is only on my own terms.” Jeonghan protests.

“Sure…” Seungcheol grins down at the blob pressed against his side. “So if you really want to do it, why don’t you?”

“Because. There’s only supposed to be one participant per family.” Jeonghan heaves another BIG sigh and Seungcheol finally understands what the true dilemma is.

“Ah… okay… I’m sorry.”

“So you have to drop out, Cheol.

Seungcheol blinks once. twice. three times as Jeonghan stares at him with the most steadfast expression he’s ever seen. It looks like Jeonghan has already made the decision, but wait…

“What?”

“You have to decline the offer so I can do it instead.” Jeonghan is so sure. There’s no waver in his voice, no shift of the eyes. He’s made up his mind before Seungcheol can even really process the whole thing.

“But weren’t you the one saying I should be more involved?” Seungcheol is never the one to back down…

Jeonghan stumbles over his next words. Of course he wants his husband to be active in the school and show more support for the soccer team! But he also wanted to do this parent’s match, smash Janice’s face in a little and have celebratory pizza over his victory. He’s a simple man.

“Yes. Okay, YES I want you to be more involved. But I also feel strongly about this match and would appreciate it if you’d just put your pride aside for once and let me have this. Please.” The please comes as an afterthought but he hopes Seungcheol doesn’t notice its insincerity. “Plus, we’ll be here all year. There’s plenty of events you could do in the future.”

“Or maybe you could put your pride aside.”

“I would, but I can’t. Look Cheollie. I don’t want to fight with you.” In fact, he only wanted to rant some and have Seungcheol comfort him and tell him how right he was, but things didn’t go as planned obviously. “I will just let the others know formally that you will not be participating and—”

“Why don’t we let Chan decide? I mean this is for him after all. Let him choose who he wants to see in the match.” Seungcheol reasons. He wouldn’t be so adamant on accepting if Jeonghan hadn’t made the decision for him in the first place. All he had to do was ask. Then he might’ve at least considered giving up. Sometimes their testosterone gets in the way too.

Jeonghan thinks it over for a minute. A long one. And then finally heaves his last BIG sigh of the night with a resounding “Fine.”

“Okay?” Seungcheol asks once he saw the other still frowning. After the weight of his lips refused to budge, he pokes him in his side and asks again. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Jeonghan finally caves and dramatically rolls over to show his husband he was getting no cuddles tonight. He even went as far as to tug a bit more of the blankets on his own side to show he meant business.

“Goodnight… I love you.” Seungcheol tries, grinning down at his wonderful mess of a husband. He annoys him to no extent, but he couldn’t ever imagine falling out of love.

“I love you too.” As petty as he is, he can’t break their tradition of repeating I Love You’s.

Jeonghan is determined. He is going to be the one in that match. Chan is his baby. He is sure to choose him.

Not too long after, the room goes dark and he falls asleep. Seungcheol isn’t too far behind.

“Wake up baby…” Jeonghan coos to his kindergartner. “You gotta get up and get ready for school.” Chan batts his eyelashes until his doe eyes adjust to the lamp lighting his room. “Good morning. Let’s get your teeth brushed and face washed.”

Chan would usually roll out of bed on his own and waddle over to his bathroom to start his own routine, but today Jeonghan is feeling especially kind. They’d been teaching Chan to be more independent lately. They wanted him to get into the habit of getting ready for school in a timely manner by himself. They’d always help and egg him on when needed but preferred to stand back and hover while he dressed.

Today, Jeonghan flips the script a little. Instead of nudging him awake and following his pouty six-year-old to the bathroom, he picks him up and carries him there instead. Chan’s small hands wrap around Jeonghan’s neck as he cuddles into his dad. It’s a small, intimate moment, but means so much to the little boy who gets an extra 53 seconds of sleep than he normally would. Once Jeonghan reaches the bathroom, he sets Chan down in front of the toilet and Chan is sleepily pushing his father out because “How embarrassing!” it must be to go potty in front of daddy. Jeonghan doesn’t tease him this time about having to change his diapers when he was a baby and allows the other to finish up (double checking to make sure he hears both a flush and the running water splashing over soapy hands). He hears the kid’s “I Got a Feeling” tooth tunes toothbrush play and after a few minutes, he knocks on the door.

“Teeth?” Jeonghan asks routinely. Chan smiles brightly, showing his small white teeth. He hasn’t lost any yet. He then lifts the boys face in one of his hands to check for eye crud. Once he finds none, he gives a satisfied grin and holds his hand up for a high five. “Good job, buddy!”

“I told you I’m a big boy. I can get ready all by myself.” Chan slaps the palm of his hand against his dad’s much larger one and hops down off his stool. Jeonghan follows him back to his room watching him pull out his uniform.

“I’m going to go check on breakfast.” The dad leans down to kiss Chan on his forehead and makes his exit down their staircase. He smells the food before he sees it and already knows his husband has been hard at work preparing it. “What do we have here?”

Seungcheol looks up from his spatula to grin over at his husband. He’s already dressed in his black slacks and fitted, white button down, but over it sports an apron that says Kiss the Cook.

“Good morning beautiful.” Seungcheol looks on and Jeonghan is skeptical.

“Is that…”

“French toast?!” Chan yells from the top of the stairs, tripping over himself as he climbs down.

“Yep, bud! Your favorite.” Seungcheol replies and gives his child a big bear hug when he gets close enough.

Ohhh, Jeonghan thinks. I know what’s going on here. Jeonghan sees that his husband’s plans to butter Chan up before he asks about the match has already been kicked to fruition. In the wake of the unashamedly display of bribery, Jeonghan almost misses the sparkly glove and hat Chan has paired with his uniform.

“What are you wearing, Chan? I thought we talked about wearing parts of your Michael Jackson costume with your uniform.” Jeonghan tries to coax him nicely to take them off, but Chan is already frowning before the last word leaves his lips.

“But Daddy!” Chan’s big eyes go wider while his bottom lip juts out. God, he acts so much like his dad sometimes. “You said I could be a big kid and get ready on my own!” He argues.

“Yes, but you have a uniform and have to abide by the rules like every other student, kiddo.”

“Well, Jeonghan. I don’t think it will hurt just for today. If there’s a problem, he can always just put them in his backpack.” Seungcheol might need to check that his will is ready, because Jeonghan may very well kill him.

“What dad said!”

“Yeah… what dad said, huh?” Jeonghan is glaring daggers at his husband, but Seungcheol has a shit-eating grin that refuses to go away. He scowls a little while longer before waving his hand at the two of them with a roll of his eyes. Chan bursts into a squee and hits some signature dance move Jeonghan is still not sure where he learned from. To top it off, Seungcheol places a plate of French toast on the table and swiftly places a terse kiss on Jeonghan’s cheek. It looks like Cheol has won the morning.

1:0

“But I don’t like that one!” Chan pulls at his hair while Seungcheol mimics his position. They’re both sat at the table going over project ideas. Seungcheol came home early and Jeonghan was still finishing up dinner so that left the older to police homework duty. It’s not going well to say the least.

“Chan-ah… I want your project to be the best it can be, but you have to cooperate.”

“Daddy!” Chan looks like he’s on the brink of a meltdown. “No! You won’t listen to me!” He doesn’t throw tantrums much, but when he does…

Well let’s just hope it doesn’t get to that point.

“I’m trying to listen, but you have to listen to me too. I promise you there is no way for us to do one hundred ice cream cones for the one-hundred-day celebration. You like dinosaurs, don’t you? We can do something with that… you know something that won’t make a mess.” Seungcheol tries bringing up yet another idea that’s not settling well with his six-year-old. His eyes are glossing over like if his idea is rejected one more time, he’ll fling himself out the nearest window. It’s not the end of the world, but Chan will make it seem like it is.

“You don’t get it! I have to do a project that will be awesome. I want it to be the best. The whole class will love it and all my friends will love it and Mrs. Geum will love it! It has to be ice cream because everyone looooves ice cream!” Chan says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He doesn’t understand why his dad won’t let him do the ice cream idea. Nothing else is as good, he’s sure. Seungcheol pinches the bridge of his nose, but his son keeps going. “Naeun is bringing one hundred bubbles and Gangyong is decorating one hundred cupcakes so that when you put them all together it makes a big one hundred and—”

“What’s wrong?” Jeonghan hears the distress in his son’s voice and sees the distress on his husband’s face and finally decides to intervene. Plus, dinner was about done anyway.

“Daddy is trying to stiff my creativity!” Chan shouts and he looks so damn cute, Jeonghan doesn’t have the heart to correct him on his grammar.

“Oh, is he now?” Jeonghan asks feigning the utmost seriousness. “Well that’s not very nice. Are you still coming up with ideas for the one-hundred-day celebration?”

“Yes. And I want mine to be super not lame. I want to bring one hundred ice cream cones in one hundred different flavors.” Seungcheol sits back and crosses his arms as he watches Chan explain his idea again. He can’t wait to see Jeonghan get pummeled like he had been for the past 30 minutes.

“That’s a lot of ice cream!” Jeonghan starts, “but you know… what time is the celebration?”

“Ummm…” Chan thinks for a bit before a lightbulb goes off over his head. “It’s at the end of the day!” And just like that, the light dims once he realizes.

“Right. And I think the ice cream idea is amazing! I mean, who doesn’t like ice cream?”

“I know right!” Chan chimes in before Jeonghan continues.

“But at the end of that day, all the hard work you do to get the ice cream ready will go to waste and it will be all melted and sticky and then this big awesome idea of yours won’t seem as big or awesome anymore.” Jeonghan tries to reason with the child. It’s hard to see his face fall in defeat. His kid is a dreamer just like his parents.

“I guess so…” Chan looks like he wants to cry.

“But you know what?” Chan shakes his head no. “We could do another idea that is pretty close to your ice cream idea.”

Seungcheol is intrigued now. He thinks, there is no way he can work his way back up after basically rejecting Chan’s idea for the 50^th time that night.

“What if we still did ice cream but made them out of lollipops! We can get cones and then fill the top with the ones you like.” Jeonghan saw it once in a Mommy and me crafting book. “That way you can still have lots flavors, it won’t melt, and your friends will still get to eat them.” Seungcheol doesn’t think this will work. He’s just spent thirty minutes trying to convince the boy to do something else and he wasn’t budging.

“And… do I get to pick the flavors?” Chan asks skeptically. He wants to make sure his dads know that this is his project. Sometimes they (especially Seungcheol) get carried away.

“You can choose whatever you like, baby.” Jeonghan smiles, waiting for Chan to accept or reject his proposal. With his son it could really go either way.

“Okay… I like it!” Chan goes to hug him and starts rambling off all the flavors he knows and how excited he is and how cool his project will be.

Seungcheol is baffled it really worked and silently gives his praises to his significant other.

You just have to know what to say, Jeonghan’s look says. And be willing to compromise.

And now they can finally eat dinner and go back to their regularly scheduled programs.

1:1

“Chan I’m almost done with dinner. Don’t you think the ice cream will taste much better after you eat real food?” Jeonghan tries to push Chan in the right direction, but he’s like a boulder refusing to move.

“But Daddy said I could have ice cream for doing so well on my spelling test.”

“Is that right, Seungcheol?” Jeonghan Challenges.

“The greatest kid in the world can have whatever he wants.”

“Yay! You’re the best!” Chan exclaims running to the freezer and bouncing up and down until Seungcheol helps him up.

And things have been going just like this all week. Jeonghan blatantly telling Chan no only for Seungcheol to counteract him. And vice versa. It’s been like a constant game of cat and mouse with no one getting the upper hand—well except Chan maybe.

“Well I made fried squid with spicy sauce just how you like it.” Jeonghan started seeing the twinkle in his son’s eyes. “And since that ice cream has so much sugar, you can even stay up a little bit longer to burn off that energy. It’s great cause Daddy Cheol will be the one putting you to sleep tonight.”

“Jeonghan, I don’t think that’s the best id—”

“The greatest kid in the world can have whatever he wants, no? Courtesy of me. You have an extended play time.”

“Is it Christmas already?” Chan is ecstatic.

“Speaking of Christmas, I wanted to wait until a little bit later, but you’ve been so well behaved lately, I thought you deserved it early.” Seungcheol heads over to a closet hidden beneath the stairs. Jeonghan is already scowling at him because he knows the type of toy he’s about to bring out. In fact, they discussed specifically waiting to gift it to him.

“Transformer! It’s Optimus Prime!” Chan squeals and runs over to the footlong autobot. It’s about a third of his height and very flashy. He’s in heaven and can’t even sense the mean looks his parents are giving each other.

“Guess where we’re going after school on Friday?”

“Did you want to look at your other gifts for Christmas?”

“What theme did you want for your birthday party?”

Not too long after, his parents begin arguing about how much time they’ll get to spend with him and all the things they have planned. Chan began to get overwhelmed. He likes gifts and he loves hanging out with his dads, but he can’t help but feel like something is wrong.

“Stop it!” Chan yells after he can’t take it anymore. Both of his parents go silent. “Why are you fighting? There’s enough of me for both of you!” Chan is reading the situation as best as he can.

“I’m sorry. Daddy and I just got a little carried away.” Jeonghan breaks the silence after seeing his son’s fed up explosion.

“I want you to apo—apologize to each other and say how much you love each other. No more fighting!” As both parents get scolded by their six-year-old, they realize they both need to have a serious conversation once he’s gone to bed. One where they legitimately apologize and settle their issues without bringing him into the equation. In fact, neither of them had even officially asked Chan yet, hoping that they could hype themselves up enough. It became less and less about the little boy and more about one upping each other.

They eat their dinner (even though Chan complains of a tummy ache halfway through, thank you ice cream) and decide to clean up together. As promised, Chan does get his extra hour before he has to go to sleep. He can’t use all of it though as his droopy eyelids have him succumbing to the tiredness of the day 30 minutes before. And Seungcheol and Jeonghan settle into their bed, ready to face the elephant in the room.

“Cheollie…” Jeonghan is the first to speak. He wraps his arms around his lover because truly, he misses his touch. “I… I am sorry for trying to one up you every chance I got this week.”

“No, I should be the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t undermine you and especially not in front of our son. We’re a unit and I shouldn’t have let this petty competition get in the way of it.” Seungcheol is already hugging his significant other back with a tender look in his eyes. “Now what is really bothering you? Why does this one fundraiser mean so much to you?”

Jeonghan takes a minute before responding. He inhales sharply and let’s out a shaky breath to stabilize his emotions. “It’s gonna sound silly.”

“We’ve been together for five years. Nothing you say can phase me.”

“Remember a while back when my hair was still long?”

“It was only a few months ago…”

“No one takes me seriously at his school… They think I’m not capable of doing things the other dads can do which is the main reason I cut it off in the first place. And then at the meeting, they acted like I was completely inadequate and kept talking about big, strong, sexy you—”

“Well that last bit is true. I am all of those things” Seungcheol gets smacked in the shoulder and laughs it off.

“For once, I don’t want to be seen as the feminine one. I can be just as masculine as you.”

“I think you’ve already proven to them that you’re capable of any task. You practically run that place. But, I respect your opinion.” Seungcheol tightened his hold, “I will back out if you want me to.”

“Really?” Jeonghan sat up straighter, shocked.

“Of course. I love you.”

“Fuck. You make me so soft. I love you too.”

“Soft? You sure I don’t make you hard?” Seungcheol sneakily snuck his hand under the hem of his husband’s night shirt.

“Good night!” But Jeonghan was having none of it. He rolled over and this time allowed Seungcheol to snuggle into his back.

Hello Parents and Families,

Due to unforeseen circumstances, we will have to open up our limit of one per family to two per family. Several volunteers have unfortunately sustained injuries or have conflicting schedules with our chosen dates. If you are available, please sign up via this link.

Thank you!

Your PTA Committee

P.S. There will be a get well soon card passed around for Yoon Jong-je, Sanha’s dad at the next meeting. His back is still injured from the last event he participated in.

 

 

 

Chapter Text

Seungcheol always calls him an overachiever.

“You always get mad when they don’t recognize your effort, so why are you putting in so much effort?” The older’s words echo in his head each time he’s making a three a.m. trip to the department store that never closes. So what if he likes to use all his energy on people that don’t reciprocate? That being said, Jeonghan is dead tired after he makes twenty-two Halloween themed goodie bags for Chan’s Kindergarten class’s Halloween Party. Eighteen for each student, two for the teacher and teacher assistant and two extra just in case. Seungcheol did help although somewhere around the tenth bag, Jeonghan noticed the other barely awake. Off to bed he went.

To top it all off, Jeonghan had even volunteered to come in and help as eighteen toddlers with a table of treats was never not a plan for destruction. So after getting in his power nap, he dashes to the school to get there by 1:30 pm with all of the goodie bags by his side. The kids always loved seeing Mr. Choi as he always came with bright smiles and tasty things. So when he gets a cheer and excited claps, his ego inflates just a little.

He loves that Chan is somewhat still at the age where he could cling to his dad in public and demand his attention. No shame, just love. That is, as long as Jeonghan didn’t try to kiss him, but hugs were okay. And as all the kids assembly line to pick up their snacks from the table and Jeonghan helps serve them along with the teaching assistant, his heart inflates too. The bright eyes and thank yous and hugs from kids that weren’t even his made his day. This is why I put in the effort, he thinks. For moments like these.

By the end of the day, Jeonghan had had his fair share of sugar and children. But, just his luck, he had somehow roped himself and Seungcheol into leading the group trick or treating. He’s good for volunteering like that. And although he’d bemoan to Seungcheol, “I can’t believe we got roped into watching over six spawns of Satan.”, Seungcheol is quick to remind him that it was all his husband’s doing.

Seungcheol and Chan help Jeonghan set out snacks before the other families arrive. Cheese and crackers. Fruits and nuts. Their spooky decorations were already in place. Cobwebs on the mantle, Jack-O-Lanterns at the door and every other novelty Halloween accessory was strategically placed to make their home look straight out of Better Homes and Gardens magazine. It really is picturesque and Jeonghan could not be prouder. If the guests think this is good, just wait until Christmas.

Once all is semi-ready, the dads go and help Chan get dressed. Talk of Transformers and Michael Jackson and all the other eye-catching things that he could be for Halloween somehow got overruled by something neither parent was expecting. The toddler was set on Pikachu. It seemed out of nowhere as they didn’t watch Pokémon all that much around the house, but somehow Chan had latched earlier on that month. And as you might remember, once Chan has his mind set on something, it will take a whole army to get him to change it. Jeonghan suggested they dress up as supporting characters so they could get some really cute photo ops from it, but of course, Seungcheol wanted to be Ash Ketchum. Both his son and husband are the most stubborn people he knows so with much chagrin, he is persuaded into being Misty. Of course, he takes his own spin on the character so people cannot mistake him for a girl (again. The angel costume last year almost always ended in “You look great, Miss.”) Plus Seungcheol always complained that the angel gimmick got old, which Jeonghan begged to differ.

When they’re all dressed and ready, Chan can’t help but be excited. So much so that his parents worry that any candy he gets will push him over the deep end. Candy comas are a very real thing. Halloween is on a Wednesday too, which Chan thinks is stupid. Now he won’t be able to eat candy and stay up all night like he wanted to. He thinks they should just change it to always be on Friday. He’s still happy though because whatever treats he doesn’t like, he can take to school the next day for a candy swap. All is good.

Soon the doorbell is ringing, and the families begin to show up one after the other. It’s much too soon to leave so they sit around and chat while the kids show off their costumes. The Kwon’s show up with Soonyoung not being a superhero for once. Instead he’s opted in for a Nutcracker look that is a lot more terrifying than it should be. Then Seungkwan and Vernon show up together. This time they aren’t dressed as each other now that they’re old enough to have a say so in their costume choices. Seungkwan decides he’s Anpanman after his favorite cartoon and Hansol is Waldo from Where’s Waldo and Jeonghan thinks both of those are very fitting. Seokmin is the last to show up with his clown costume and even if the make up is lowkey terrifying, his dazzling smile is ten times more scary. Once the soccer crew is together and ready, they set forth on what’s sure to be a great adventure.

The best part about the Diamond Edge community is how incredibly involved they are. Maybe a little too involved sometimes, but that’s okay. Each house, give or take a couple, is lit from head to toe in spooky decorations. Driveways are lined with ghost lights and headstones pop out of the grown. Cobwebs are entwined with tree branches as spiders dangle from the sky. From Jack-O-Lanterns to witches and bubbly cauldrons, the neighborhood looks like a full-on Halloween town and it put the kids in the right mood to be spooked. Some are genuinely scary, making the kids cling together as they tip toe their way up the driveways. The parents usually stay back to watch all of the older ones brave going first. Seungcheol would be lying if he said he didn’t huddle closer to the group over the sound of organs blasting funeral marches by faux caskets. One of the houses ends up being so scary, the kids refuse to go up to the door themselves and Jeonghan, being the bravest one of all the adults, has to accompany them all the way up the driveway.

It goes on, house after house of people gushing over the kids and their frighteningly adorable costumes. They’re so excited, the parents can barely keep up. It’s too endearing for them to actually get mad though so a simple, “slow down” or “be careful not to run” is all the scolding anyone will get tonight. Chan gets so much candy, Seungcheol has to hold his bag for him in between houses. With dusk dousing the sky in deep lavenders and cotton candy pinks, they make it to the last house before heading back to their lane.

Chan and the other kids are giggling up at the front and his heart swells to see the older ones doting on his son. He’s the youngest and definitely the smallest so each of the other kids are really gentle with him. Always making sure his tiny legs can keep up with their antics and opening the wrapper for him when he sneaks a piece of candy behind his dads’ back. And Jeonghan, as cheesy as he knows it sounds, is his soulmate. Jeonghan is gracefully walking near his side while conversing with some of the other moms and dads about all the sleep they’re not going to get tonight. Seungcheol feels something really warm pour over him. Like a freshly brewed tea and snuggles by the fire kind of feeling. He can’t stop the overjoyous grin from taking over his lips.

Although his husband loves to complain about the other parents being a nuisance sometimes, he knows it’s just a front he puts up for show. He’s so generous and responsive to all of the other adults because they were quick to accept the family. They adore the duo even if their marriage is unconventional and they’re still so young, they are respected and supported.  Seungcheol remembers when they first moved in how they were greeted with casseroles and exchanged numbers in case of emergencies. And now, looking at his beautiful son and his beautiful husband, he knows that they couldn’t have made a better decision than settling down here. He is so so happy and just, wow. He’s got the hottest Misty on the block.

He links hands with Jeonghan as they walk and the other is slowly drawn out of conversation until his attention lands on Seungcheol.

“You know…” Seungcheol begins, “I am so happy I found you. You’re such a great partner and you do so much for the community and for our son and I just want you to know that I really appreciate all that you do.” His voice is quiet enough to be drowned out to others by the sounds of the night but falls perfectly on Jeonghan’s ears. It has gotten chillier and their proximity has slowly grown closer and closer. The people around them all but cease to exist for just this one moment. One moment in which they have only each other.

“I couldn’t be the person I am without you so thank you for standing by my side through all the crazy shit I do.” Jeonghan matches his bright smile and sparkling eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” And ever so slightly, Seungcheol leans in to leave the softest, most innocent kind of kiss on his husband’s puckered lips. It lasts less than a second, yet the feeling will last for all of eternity.

As to be expected, a loud chorus of ewww’s cut through their little moment and Seungkwan is pretending to puke like he’s never seen something more disgusting. Seungcheol thinks it’s worth it though because he can smell the hint of butterscotch on Jeonghan’s breath with how close they are (which Chan was luckily oblivious to the fact that the piece of candy was stolen).

Finally, back home, Chan is exhausted! How glad they are of the fact because they won’t have to wrestle him into bed this time. They learned their lesson from past Halloweens to limit his sugar intake throughout the night. The little boy does all he can to stay awake while Spooky Buddiesplays in the background. Chan dumps all of his candy out in the middle of the living room floor and seeing his eyes go wide is absolutely priceless. He instantly sticks his hands into the pile to count and sort his goodies. Once all the candy is neatly spread out and taken account of, Chan is ready to dig in. Seungcheol stops him before he can though under the guise of “checking to make sure it’s safe”. After the third piece Seungcheol “checks”, Chan catches on to his true intentions of eating all his candy and immediately goes into attack mode.

Chan tackles his dad and they wrestle for a bit. He almost always loses due to the shameless tickle tactic his dad always uses to cheat. Before he gets that far though, Jeonghan calls out that his abandoned candy will miss him if he doesn’t come choose his three. And by three, Jeonghan means ONLY three. Chan chooses and by the time he’s on his third piece of candy, his eyelids droop lower and lower. It’s as if he’s become too tired to chew. They know its bedtime so they both help their kid pack all his candy back up and get him ready for bed.

After possibly the longest day of the whole year, Jeonghan and Seungcheol decide to just cuddle in front of the TV. The channel has since been changed and Nightmare on Elm Street creates a nice Halloween-y soundscape. Their attention isn’t wholeheartedly focused on the movie though. In fact, Jeonghan provides something much sweeter than all the candy in the world. Or maybe the taste of his lips is enhanced by the candy itself. Either way, Halloween ends on a sweet note and maybe just MAYBE they’re excited for the next one.

Chapter Text

"Can you please put the sweater back on?" Jeonghan is wrestling with the laces of his new Doc Martens (all the cool kids are wearing them nowadays) all while policing Chan from a distance. The kid is less than subtle about his distaste for the article of clothing by the way he carelessly tosses it aside. It'd been 30 minutes of back and forth banter between the two. It was the great debate over what Chan was most “comfortable” in. It was clear who held the power. And just in case it wasn’t… it’s Chan.

Jeonghan made a point to purchase outfits that had similar color schemes or designs in hopes that they would get the perfect picturesque family photos during their outings. Carefully, he would scan the stores for hours to find the clothes that closely resembled each other in his, Seungcheol’s and Chan’s sizes. It was no easy feat so he’d appreciate it if Chan appreciated his effort. The six-year-old doesn’t understand it now, but he’ll thank him later. Jeonghan is sure.

Jeonghan had been sorting through several sweaters to match their “sweater weather” theme for the night, but Chan had a complaint with every. single. one. This one's too tight. This one's too long. I hate the color green. 

Which he totally did not, Jeonghan might add.

He finally decided to put his foot down and was dead set on this candy-apple red, knitted sweater trio he’d found earlier this season. He told Chan there were no more butts on this one and left to get ready himself. But, each time Jeonghan would force the damned garment over his head, he'd turn around not five minutes later to see Chan in nothing but his dark washed jeans, undershirt and snowman socks.

"I don't wanna!" Chan whines before giving the discarded sweater a little kick. Jeonghan inhales a deep, murder-doesn't-look-good-on-a-resume breath and just barely bites back the annoyance in his voice.

"And why not?"

As if it's the most obvious thing in the world, a true fact only dummies wouldn't know, Chan fusses, "Because it's itchy!"

Seungcheol takes that as his cue and stands up from the couch where he'd been tapping his foot in boredom. His back grew stiff due to his hunched over shoulders. The amount of time it took the two to get ready on average was rivaled by no other. But today was exceptionally long. Of course, if he ever told his husband that, Jeonghan would have his head so instead, he quietly keeps to himself.

That is, until the 6th time Chan stripped. It was really getting old.

"You said that about the last three." Seungcheol interjected.

Chan, standing at the top of the stairs, arms crossed over his chest, pouts at his dad, but Seungcheol isn't deterred. "Well your dad and I are going to be matching. You don't want to feel left out do you?" Chan shakes his head "no" even if you can still see the defiance burning in his eyes. It's actually quite adorable when you don't consider the fact that they're 10 minutes behind on top of a 15-minute drive without traffic. 

"So will you please put back on the red sweater?" After a long staring match, Seungcheol tacked on, "If not for me, do it for your tummy! They'll have hot chocolate and I'll let you get as many marshmallows as you want."

That does the trick well enough as Chan grabs the sad lump of knitted cotton from the floor. His arm gets stuck in the neck hole while his neck gets stuck in the arm hole, but that's more progress than they've had all night. Jeonghan sighs in relief. Of course, Seungcheol could have helped earlier when he noticed Jeonghan couldn’t get ready because of the attention given to Chan, but he won’t ruin the mood with that detail.

When they're all finally dressed and Chan balances the reindeer antler headband on his head, they're off to the car, fighting their way through the chilly winter.

Wrapped in a plush, snowy white blanket, Chan is nestled in between his parents. The tour hasn't officially begun, yet Chan already seems like he's about to burst with excitement. The trolley they’re in has glossy wooden benches lined down the middle, while the sides serve as walkways. The old-fashioned style of the trolley has golden accents making Chan think it’s fancier than it really is. But the best part is that they’ve lined the bus with Christmas lights and have already began playing festive music. If he wasn’t in the mood for it before, he surely is now.

They’re still sitting at the port, waiting for people to file in. They picked this one in particular because of the complimentary heated blankets and snacks. Both Jeonghan and Seungcheol knew Chan would be standing up out of his seat and venturing around once they got going, but for now, it’s nice to just share the space.

It’s funny how Jeonghan had been the one to suggest the Christmas lights tour. Seungcheol knows from personal experience that Jeonghan and the cold don’t mix. Yet there he is, risking his comfort to ride around in an open window, old fashioned bus on this frigid winter night. He mentioned seeing it in the movies one night and apparently couldn’t shake the idea from his head. Snuggling up against the ones you love, drinking hot chocolate all while seeing the pretty Christmas lights twinkling around you. It imprinted itself on his mind, convincing him from the beginning that he wanted that experience. Even when a soft breeze sweeps by bringing shivers, the bubbly atmosphere makes it all seem much warmer.

There are heaters by their feet and above their heads so they aren’t consumed by the overwhelming cold, but when they’re in a vehicle with no windows, there’s only so much they can do.

Seungcheol wants to reach out and boop his husband's red nose. Maybe make a joke about how he looks like Rudolph. Maybe tease him for the slight tremble of his goose bumped skin. Instead, he brings his arm around his shoulders, pulling both Jeonghan and Chan closer. The move makes the youngest of their trio giggle with his body firmly trapped in between the two. Chan’s hyper feet kick as he complains, “Daddy is squishing me!”. A choir of angels singing truly can’t compare to his son’s laugh. It’s the most refreshing and healing sound and Seungcheol is so grateful to have it in his life. He always gets so soft around the two when they look so happy.

Soon after, the trolley began its journey, slowly weaving through rows of lights strung up in elaborate patterns.

It was dark, sure, but their family shined radiantly under the glow of reds and greens. Chan, as expected, got up from his seat and climbed dutifully into Seungcheol’s lap. The view seemed much better to him that way. And to top it off, “Santa Tell Me” played through the trolley’s speakers. It had somehow found its way into the little one’s heart. Jeonghan should be used to it, but it still caught him off guard every time Chan began singing full lyrics in English. Hell, the boy probably knew more of it than he did. And even when Frozen’s “Let it Go” came on, Seungcheol joined in to harmonize with the overjoyed kid in his lap. Jeonghan made sure to take a video of the two while they were distracted. His husband was bold and loud when he wanted to be, but if he knew Jeonghan was recording, he’d get all shy in an instant.

The staff came around with thick paper cups, steam gently rising from their warmth. Reluctantly, Jeonghan removed his arms from the comfort of his blanket cocoon to take one for Chan and one for himself. Before Jeonghan could give him the “behave” glare, Chan was already asking if he could have extra marshmallows. Seungcheol had basically promised him he could get however many he wanted and Chan was never one to forget. The kind woman handing them out decided to give him a separate cup of marshmallows to go along with his hot chocolate because “he’s just too precious!”. Chan was simply irresistible and even strangers were trapped under his charm. Jeonghan definitely thinks he gets it from Seungcheol.

By the end of the night, their hands were numb and their noses frosted. But Jeonghan still needed his family photo!

They gathered in front of the Christmas tree, back at the trolley’s main station. Jeonghan grabbed one of the passersby and asked if they could take a quick picture for them. They posed for the camera, arms slung around each other and chattering teeth smiling wide. In the end, they decided to keep their coats on so it truly didn’t matter that they took time matching anyway, but the idea of it was unifying enough.

Years from now when Jeonghan looks back at these pictures, he’ll be able to recall the happiness bubbling from his tummy as the hot chocolate, knitted sweaters, and love from his family keeps him warm.

Chapter Text

Can every day be New Year’s Eve?!

Chan hasn’t gotten to stay up this late since… well he’s never gotten to stay up this late!

He thought he’d be a lot sleepier than he is now, but the nap with his dad before they left must have really helped. Seungcheol is the best cuddler in the world and if Chan wasn’t so possessive of him, he’d probably recommend his hugs to everyone.

Anyway, it’s New Year’s Eve and he’s at the riverfront with his dads. He hasn’t stopped bouncing on his toes since they gathered around the water’s edge on blankets and camping chairs. He’s really fascinated in how the metal bars blocking him from the water feel cool and gritty in his tiny hands. He wonders if he can climb them but decides against it when he imagines how worried his daddy will be.

He hears him call his name in fact. It’s like he’s got a sixth sense to know when Chan is up to something. Nonetheless, he runs over to Jeonghan, instantly clinging to his leg. He is saying something to the little boy about staying warm and sticks the abandoned gloves back on Chan’s hands, wrapping his scarf a little tighter. Chan wants to squirm away and keep playing with the bars or watching the water ripple, but now Jeonghan is putting ChapStick on his lips and Chan is getting soooo impatient. He wiggles and giggles until his dad gives up and he’s back with his face pressed against the barrier.

The buildings across from the river sparkle. From the distance, they look tiny. He can squish them all with his fingers. There’s a tiny Christmas tree beside the rest of the tiny skyscrapers that he pretends to squish too.

The lights strung on the other buildings remind Chan of the trolley tour they took.

He’s making so many good memories this year, he wants to put them all in a glass jar so he can hold onto them forever.

Running around pretending to be fighting the scary sea monsters is tiring and when Chan thinks he’s getting a little sleepy, his two dads join him closer to the water. Seungcheol offers a piggy back ride and Chan accepts with glee. Jeonghan points to a boat bobbing on the water, “It's almost time! Are you ready, Chan-ah! Do you see?”

“I’m ready!” His legs kick in their position around Seungcheol’s stomach. He doesn’t remember what he should be ready for, but he’s still thrilled.

“They’re going to start a countdown. Do you remember how to count backwards from ten?” Jeonghan asks.

Chan nods enthusiastically. They have been doing it a lot lately in school. Right after story time. He tries to practice a couple times, only stumbling when he gets distracted, but he thinks he’s got it.

In the middle of his private countdown, he hears a chorus of others start their own collective count down. It all sounds like mush to his ears. He doesn’t know what number anyone is at and wonders if they’re all just saying random things to confuse him.

He joins in somewhere around where five should be, but before he can get to one, people are screaming “Happy New Year!”

Then his daddies share a kiss right in front of him! He wants to be grossed out, but sees others kissing so he wants a kiss too! He reaches a hand out in between his parents and then Jeonghan gives him a kiss on the cheek.

It all happens so quickly, the first firework catches him by surprise. A loud shriek, he can see a bright globe of light shoot into the air. It makes a BOOM sound that he can feel reverberate in his chest. It’s loud, but Chan doesn’t mind when the pretty colors Fᵢzzₗₑ and spark in the night sky. He doesn’t know if he’s seen a display so pretty before. It’s like the Christmas lights only a bit more special, he thinks. They won’t last forever so he has to mentally screenshot the image as quick as he can to store in his mind. It’s exhilarating and with each shriek, BOOM, Fᵢzzₗₑ his heart feels lighter and lighter.

Chan is far too excited to notice he screams each time a new one is set off. His dad hands him a party horn at one point in time but he’s so stuck in this trance, he never even thought to blow it. The fireworks are being set off from the left and the right. Chan sees their reflection on the tiny buildings from across the river and the rippling water down below so it feels like a surround sound type of display. His smile is so wide and his eyes glisten from pure joy and in this blissful daze, he hears Happy New Year echo from all around. He sings it back while welcoming in the new year with his family.

Chapter Text

It’s Monday. Chan usually doesn’t like Mondays all that much because they mean having to restart his routine of waking up too early and sitting through reading time for what seems like foreeeever. There’s no Saturday morning cartoons on Mondays and no Seungcheol-appa to cuddle with on the couch while they eat Cocoa Pebbles. But today is a special Monday. Why?

Because he is officially turning seven years old today!

He doesn't feel any different. Not yet anyway. But he's excited, nonetheless. He likes holidays. All kinds of holidays because most of them only come once a year. And this is the one time a year he gets a holiday all to himself.

At school, Jeonghan shows up right before lunch time with two rectangular boxes nestled close to his chest and a red tote bag hanging off his shoulder. The classroom instantly goes mum at the spectacle before them, thrilled whispers and inconspicuous glances being passed around the room. They know the drill.

They’re all getting really good at math so they can easily spot the solution to this equation. If they sang Happy Birthday to Chan at the start of the class and his parent comes to the classroom during lunch time, then the boxes in his hands must be cupcakes! It happens often enough for them to know, but the excitement never really wears off.

“I can help you, Mr. Choi!”

“No, me!”

“I can get the napkins!”

The kids jump at the opportunity to help hand out the goodies. It’s a great feeling because Jeonghan knows in a few years, it’ll be torture just asking for a simple chore to get done. For now, he revels in the kindness that they exude and smiles the same gentle smile that won them over during the first fundraiser event he’d helped with.

Chan gets out of his seat, running to his dad. He hugs his thighs and Jeonghan has to re-balance himself to make sure the cupcakes don’t go flying due to the sheer magnitude of the impact. Chan showing public affection? He’s put aside his childhood bravado just for this sweet moment and Jeonghan couldn’t be more soft for it.

“Please stay in your seats. I’ll choose a couple of you to hand out napkins and Mr. Choi and I will pass out the cupcakes.” Their teacher calls out to the class. Chan is reluctant to pull away but thinks about getting a red sticker on his birthday. He would hate hate hate getting a red sticker any day for not listening and even more if its on this day so he scurries off to his table and plops back down in his mustard yellow, plastic seat. He is beaming at his dad with rose dusted cheeks as his classmates say happy birthday to him and high five him from where they sit. He loves the attention even if he still gets shy sometimes.

Once they’re back settled and the two designated helpers pass out all of the napkins to each kid, Jeonghan and the teacher divide and conquer. Jeonghan was smart and decided to purchase cupcakes that were as uniform as possible. He knows how picky kids can be and wanted to avoid arguments over who got what.

Chan gets first pick though and his table is glad to have the birthday boy in their assigned group because that means they get next pick. Jeonghan and the teacher go table by table, weaving between the chattering children bouncing in their chairs. The chirped thank you’s rang out in high pitched squeals as they dug into the sugary sweet cupcakes, blue frosting staining their tongues. (Probably the best kind of treats are ones that can be shown off by their visual residue).

As they eat and talk amongst themselves, Chan’s teacher starts up a conversation with Jeonghan standing shoulder to shoulder, looking out across the classroom. “Thank you for coming in today. The kids just seem to adore you, Mr. Choi.” The teacher is a bit new and exultant in her teaching methods. She hasn’t been beaten down by the hardships that come along with the job yet so every moment she sees the kids smile is a win in her book.

“I do my best. I love kids. In another life, I could see myself as a teacher at a school like this one.” He laughs to himself thinking about how completely exhausted he’d be with small aged children filling up every corner of his life. It’s not much different from now only he doesn’t have to deal with the responsibility that accompanies teaching at a public school.

“I could see that too. Chan is always talking about you and your partner like you’re the best things that ever happened to him. We’re so lucky to have Chan and you both as his supporters. He’s got lots of friends here and he’s such a cheerful kid.”

Jeonghan, try as he may, is unable to stop the proud smile from spreading across his reddening face. He feels his ears tingle, looking at the ground to avoid the eyes of the grateful woman.

“Thank you. I feel secure with him in your care.” He nods his head in mutual appreciation. He definitely doesn’t pop in to the classroom nearly as much as he did in the beginning of the year when he couldn’t trust any teacher to govern over his one and only child for such a significant portion of the day. He thinks she’s done well.

She reminds the class that they should RSVP to Chan’s birthday party by tomorrow after Jeonghan mentions it in their casual talk. She also gives her thanks to Jeonghan for giving an invite to every kid as feeling left out in this age is such a saddening thing to see on a child’s face. Invitations were handed out a week ago and Chan was happy to report that everyone seemed eager.

They close out the mini celebration with Chan being wished happy birthday one more time in a cacophonous harmony. Jeonghan kneels and gives him a quick kiss on his forehead before the now seven-year-old decides it’s too embarrassing. The extra cupcakes are left for the other teachers Chan might want to share with and Jeonghan hands over some extra hand sanitizer bottles and tissues he bought for the classroom. The teacher thanks him once more and he’s off.

Chan still has a couple hours left of school so he decides to stop by a Michael’s craft store to avoid the drive back home just to turn around and fight traffic back. There’s still shopping to do for the vast decorations he has yet to gather. He was so inspired, he even made a moodboard from various Pinterest posts he’d come across. Chan wanted a Jurassic Park theme and it allowed Jeonghan to let his creativity set sail.

He’d picked up the plates, cups, and utensils all in a convenient party pack from Party City along with table cloths and enough supplies to craft some pretty kick ass goodie bags. What he’s most excited about though is the zookeeper outfits they’d come across. It took lots of asking around, but they’d found some. The adult size was definitely going to fit Seungcheol better than himself (He was biased. He thought Seungcheol was smoking in everything he wore), but it worked out well enough that when they all stood together, they looked like they were off on an expedition, slashing through vines and palm fronds deep in the jungle. Chan loved it (He was biased. He loved everything).

He’d also already ordered the “party hats”. Of course, they weren’t any regular party hats. If Jeonghan had been any regular person or a part of any regular family then maybe he would have done the regular thing. BUT he’s Yoon Jeonghan and decided that the “party hats” would in fact be Safari hats and made sure to order them in bulk early.

So now he’s pushing a cart through the crowded aisles of Michael’s with Jisoo balanced between his head and his shoulder, speaking animatedly through his cell phone.

“You invited the entire class and the soccer team?” Josh stresses. He wishes Jeonghan would have mentioned the number of expected guests before he signed on for this project.

“It’s not that bad. Not everyone will show up. You know how these things go.” Jeonghan shrugs his shoulder as if the other can see him, brushing off his questioning tone. He’s cutting his eyes back and forth between two very different styles of leaves. Leaves larger than his head surround him in the plastic flowers section. He picks up a handful of both under the guise that the jungle has many different types of plants. He doesn’t have to be climatically accurate. These children won’t be able to tell the difference when they’re maxed out on sugar.

“It’s Valentine’s weekend. Literally everyone is coming because parents are going to dump them for a few hours of alone time.”

“Oh… I forgot to get Valentine cards for the class. Thanx for the reminder.” Jeonghan answers, his mind drifting a few aisles down to where he remembers inflated, pink balloons and mega stuffed teddy bears. He considers getting one for Seungcheol. Seungcheol’s a lot softer than he looks.

“Hannie… This is going to be really expensive… Seungcheol does know all that you’ve planned right?”

“Yah! Stop scolding me. I’m a grown man.” Jeonghan feigns exasperation, but he bursts into a fit of giggles before he can finish. “It’s fine. I’ve been saving up. And don’t try and turn my husband against me. He’s very much so on board with me…” He mumbles after, “…sort of.”

“So on top of helping you set up, you’re calling me in to babysit too.”

“It’ll be fun. Your daughter and Chan can have a play date while we get ready and she’ll pretty much babysit herself at the party. It’ll be great.”

Great is an understatement.

From the front of their home, much isn’t revealed to the expectant children being dropped off. In fact, the house is still difficult to find due to the 50 other ones built with the exact same model. What sets it apart are the shiny apple red and onyx black balloons tied to the mailbox and the sign hanging on the door saying, “Welcome to Jurassic Park”.

The kids are met at the door by Jeonghan (the responsible one who is actually paying attention to the doorbell) and are led through the simple living room, hopping along plastic dinosaur tracks that are set out. The sliding door leading to the backyard is opaque, covered in a dark backdrop, obscuring the view to the party happening just on the other side. But they can hear music and laughter and the anticipation balls up and rolls through their tummies.

When the door finally draws opens, it attracts them in like a beacon, beckoning forth the tiny adventurers into the wonderful world of dinosaurs. Joshua stands at the entryway with safari hats to hand out. It’s such a funny thing to see the kids blank, sensory spasms making it hard to decide what to avert their attention to first.

There’s greenery everywhere and it truly feels like their own little contained jungle. Wooden planks jut out on display with caution tape strategically draped over them; the fraying at the tips looks like they’d been ripped through. Beware posters tie in the setting.

A table is filled with snacks and foods all made to fit the theme. White chocolate covered pretzels transform into dinosaur bones, doughnut holes dusted with sugar mimic unhatched eggs. Pudding cups with dirt-like, cookie crumbles sprout miniscule palm trees and the tiniest dinosaur figurines. And there’s chicken nuggets! There’s a tyrannosaurus and brachiosaurus and some other saurus they still can’t pronounce. Seungcheol has the grill going and the smoke makes it look like a volcano has erupted in the background.

And is that… a bounce house? In the backyard?!?!

(Jeonghan may or may not have rented that one without Seungcheol’s knowledge but when the crew came knocking to set it up, there was little he could do to argue about it.)

And yes, Jeonghan will admit he outdid himself this time, but he was damn proud of his work. They all were impressed. “You should consider party planning. This looks great!”, his husband said in awe when he’d seen the finish product of Jeonghan’s creation. But with great power comes great responsibility. And responsibility brought big headaches.

The night before, he got the minimum amount of sleep preparing. Everyone helped, but once it got late, he coerced them into bed while his hyperactive, perfectionist mind fussed over the most minute details. He’d ended up finishing the goodie bags, creating labels for the food and pre-made all the snacks he could get away with. He’d hit the bed at around 4 a.m. and woke up hours later to get the backyard ready. On top of mild sleep deprivation, the inevitable over protective side of him resurfaced as the children ran freely, playing make believe. He was stressed™.

“You look like you need a nap.” Joshua sidles up next to him, poking his cheek.

“I just want everything to be perfect.” He admits with a sigh and a tired smile.

Joshua pans over the immaculate scene of their movie-set-ready layout. Seungcheol cooking on the grill as he nods along to the music, the kids—Chan cheesing so hard, letting forth such an innocent, unbridled laugh that breaks the heavens open to let pure sunlight spill down upon them.

Joshua thinks this is perfect. The party. Their family.

“You’re doing amazing. Everyone is enjoying themselves. You should too.” Joshua rubs his hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner. “I’m listening out for the door, go talk to Seungcheol and grab something to eat. Relax.”

Jeonghan takes his advice.

He opens his mouth to say something and instead gets it filled with a piece of meat hot off the grill.

“I just finished up. How’s it taste?” Seungcheol already knows the answer but asks anyway with a knowing smirk.

“It’s haa… Whew. It’s hot.” Jeonghan speaks around the beef burning his tongue. The flavor is savory, but when he says hot off the grill he means it in its entirety. “Yummy.”

Seungcheol kisses him on the cheek, pulling him into a side hug with one arm loosely around his waist.

“I can’t believe I’m really going to do this.” Seungcheol speaks after a minute of watching the kids play.

“It’s really adorable what you’re doing. They’re going to love it.”

“Sure hope so.”

“Hurry up and go! I wanna cut the cake.” He honestly doesn’t mind what time the cake gets cut. The younger brunette is finally starting to relax and knows that this portion of his day will be the most iconic. Although Jeonghan had planned the majority of this party, Seungcheol planned something of his own. And this one was a surprise.

“Oh no! Kids watch out!” Jeonghan shouts a warning to the crowd playing in the patch of grass. They all look up, startled and Jeonghan makes sure he has the camera rolling.

In less than a second, their attention focuses in on the person(?) standing by the sliding door. It’s…

A dinosaur?

They don’t move or speak for a second.

And then they hear a roar. The dinosaur darts out toward their huddle. They scatter, screaming like they’re being chased by an actual creature and not a grown man in an inflatable dinosaur suit. Screams melt into giggles and the laughter builds as the kids continue to run away from who they’ve now realized is just some clumsy person fumbling around in a costume.

Chan doesn’t know who it is until the dinosaur trips over its own feet, landing ungracefully in the grass. His yelp is distinguishable even between the screams and laughs and music.

“Daddy!” Chan runs up to the dinosaur, any possibility of him being afraid flying out the window. By the time Seungcheol finds his way back up, Chan runs into his legs with a tight hold. It sends the dinosaur back to the ground and soon all the kids are piling up on the lump of dino dad roaring unconvincingly.

Joshua and Jeonghan stand by each other, every single second of it caught on video. They’re holding their stomachs with how hard they’re laughing. He imagines this being one of those clips that end up on AFV.

It takes a while to get everyone to calm down. Eventually, they make it to the table to eat and sing happy birthday and share slices of cake. Pictures were taken. So many pictures. And the night ends with children slowly being picked up while they cuddle around the couch and watch the latest Jurassic World movie.

Right before Chan falls asleep, he pulls both of his dads in for a hug, an arm around the neck of each.

“Thank you for the best day ever.” He yawns with the same smile he’s adorned all day. Truly, it hasn’t left his face once.

Jeonghan thinks he can finally rest now. A successful weekend it was.

Chapter Text

Autumn begins to settle in quickly. Warm sunshine accompanies a light breeze. The leaves start to change color and ever so slightly dangle from their branches, ready to fall. It’s sweater weather and warm tea time, but not quite cool enough for fluffy coats and mittens yet. With the sky being so clear and the temperature being just right, Jeonghan decides to take Chan to the park. Other parents in the surrounding area have noticed the scenic day and have brought their own kids to the playground as well. It’s relatively full. Not too much so that he couldn’t easily keep an eye on his kid, but enough to where the other kids could keep Chan company. Once too many has Jeonghan gotten stuck on a slide because Chan just insists on racing with him. He watches from the sidelines and lets him be a rowdy six-year-old for once.

Of course, it doesn’t take long for Jeonghan to garner some unwanted attention, so he puts on a fake smile to greet a parent that frequents this area. She’s rather distracting and he couldn’t remember her name if he tried, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Apparently, she is in the PTA too but is a little more reserved so maybe that’s why he doesn’t remember her. He cuts his eyes between her and Chan (they call him overprotective, but he says its just diligence). She mentions something about saving pictures in her phone of some hot dad from the bake sale. Before Jeonghan can effectively pry into her gallery, he hears a shout that sounds all too familiar.

His heart stops and stomach drops. He hurriedly jumps over some children to get to the source of that scream. He starts panicking once he sees his son on the ground in front of the swing sets. He’s got a skinned-up knee and a bloody palm and his crying echoes through the park achingly. Jeonghan runs over and immediately picks up the boy, checking his face for any life-threatening injuries. He sighs when he sees none. A flurry of questions and hushes come out of Jeonghan, instantly soothing the boy.

“What’s wrong baby? What happened?” He’s bouncing Chan on his hip and through broken cries and hiccupping he hears him say something about a girl pushing him. He connects the dots and sees some long-haired child around his kid’s age swinging merrily back and forth. Once Chan sees her again, he begins to cry more, burying his snot covered nose into Jeonghan’s shoulder. The dad knows he should just take the younger home to get him all cleaned up, but not before giving this brat a piece of his mind.

“Excuse me. Can I speak to you for a moment, sweetie?” It’s clear Jeonghan is a bit upset but tries to keep a calm demeanor so as not to trigger the parent that is sure to be lurking. If they are not monitoring their child like they should be, he’ll take that step for them. If they won’t discipline them, he will. A good scolding is necessary otherwise they’ll never learn. The girl continues to swing but does look at him with a bored expression. Kids can be so rude these days. “Now I know you probably didn’t mean it...” Even though Jeonghan knows damn well she is old enough to know better, “ …but it’s not nice to shove others aside to get what you want. Pushing someone off a swing is unacceptable behavior.” She has the nerve to yawn, “I’m sure you wouldn’t want your mom or dad to know what you’ve been up to, but I think it’s best if I talk to one of them.”

Before Jeonghan can even ask for the kid to point out their parent, he hears a vicious voice bark out, “Why are you harassing my daughter?"

Jeonghan is so offended because he’s not the one doing the harassing! “Harrassing?” he begins to tell them off, but when he turns around, it’s like the whole world comes to a full, screeching halt. Fate is on some fuckshit today. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Jang Doyoon. Age 28. Number 19 on Jeonghan’s hit list.

Don’t be fooled. Just because he’s 19, does not mean there’s any less of a loathing for him. In fact, Jeonghan’s list is quite long so he’s still somewhere around the top 20%. It’s just Jeonghan’s luck that he runs into him after so long. It’s a small world (and at this moment he wishes he was on the opposite side of it).

Once, long before, Jang Doyoon seemed hellbent on ruining his whole life. Jeonghan transferred to the same university as him. Maybe it was some kind of territorial defense mechanism that had Doyoon making every encounter absolutely terrible, but Jeonghan wasn’t having it. He almost fought him once when the other “accidentally” bumped into him with a freshly brewed cup of coffee in his hands. Even more, he didn’t even say sorry after staining his blouse and causing minor burns. Oddly, Jang Doyoon vanished after that. Jeonghan never questioned it, just closed that chapter in his book. Jeonghan hadn’t thought anything else of the boy.

That is… until now.

The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. He mentally rolls up his sleeves, pulls up his big boy pants and prepares to stand up to the bully he never had the chance to.

“When my son was using the swing, your kid pushed him off.” His tone remains polite yet challenging. Jeonghan is a cordial man with a short temper. His soft exterior shields unsuspecting people from his true wrath.

Recognition sparks and Jang Doyoon accepts the challenge. “Well did she have reason to do so?”

Jeonghan is like a cauldron of molten lava now. His brain stutters, not believing the audacity this man has to ask a question like that. “What did you just say?” He raises an eyebrow.

“If your kid is hogging the swings, don’t you think it’s only fair to take turns?”

“I guess delinquency runs in the family.” Jeonghan leans in real close and his voice gets real low. “If you or your spawn of Satan ever comes anywhere near my child again, I will personally hand your ass over to you on a silver platter.”

Jeonghan makes sure he has a firm grip on Chan, the six-year-old still clinging tightly in his hold. He makes a dramatic exit, not once glancing back at the man who triggered his inner Mama Bear. There’s a cloud of dust in his wake and a couple of stunned parents fishing for new gossip. If Jeonghan were to retell the story, be sure to expect explosions in the background, fire—lots of it, and a man quaking in fear.

On the walk home, he’s speaking sweet words to the child to wind him down. Chan’s still shaken up, never really having been the focus of a bully’s rampage. His bawling has now turned into slight sniffling.

He’s just too kind for this world. Jeonghan feels awful that someone so mean could target his precious baby. He hopes Chan never has to see her again (and that he never has to see her father).

He sits Chan on the counter of his bathroom once they get home. Chan knows how it feels to get cuts cleaned. It makes him want to cry all over again at the memory of it. It was too similar to his bike accident a few months ago. He never wanted to go through that again, but here he is. His dad reaches toward him with a cotton ball. Chan knows it isn’t water that’s soaked through it because water doesn’t burn. And the smell is never that strong. He flinches each time it gets closer.

“I need you to be still, baby. It’ll take longer to clean if you keep moving around.”

“But it huuurts…” The pout is so much like Seungcheol’s that Jeonghan has to refrain from rolling his eyes.

“I know. I know. But it’s the only way to make it better. Can you be a big boy for me?” That seems to do the trick as Chan stops fidgeting on the counter and sits up a little straighter. His eyebrows flatten out into a line as he mocks what he thinks determination should look like. He’s already cried so much today. He wants to be a big boy who doesn’t have a fit when the stinging, burning water like thing gets too close. He nods.

But the contact makes all of that go out the window. He yelps and kicks his leg in surprise. His pout has returned and his wide eyes swell with brimmed tears. Thankfully Jeonghan catches his leg before he gets kicked in the face. Holding it in place, he dabs the scratches a few times and fully cleans up any remnants of debris and blood. Even when Chan starts crying again and shying away, he holds fast and tries not to let it affect him as much. It’s hard though. Seeing Chan cry and knowing he’s the one causing the pain makes his own heart wrench. He feels so guilty that he wasn’t able to protect his baby in the first place.

“I’m almost done. I’m so so sorry.” Jeonghan croons. The six-year-old’s fists come to tighten in the collar of Jeonghan’s shirt, an attempt to distract himself.

Jeonghan finishes up and plants soft kisses to Chan’s cheeks and forehead, hugging him tightly for being such a good boy. Even if he almost kicked him. Spiderman band-aids were the only good things coming out of this whole ordeal because Chan finally smiles seeing one of his favorite superheroes patching up the wounds. They don’t have any plans for the rest of their day so Jeonghan thinks it’s a perfect time to watch cartoons and let Chan eat snacks and ice cream before dinner—but just this once.

Jeonghan, swathed in plum tinted sheets, sinks deep into his fort of pillows. He makes himself comfortable while waiting for Seungcheol to finish getting ready for bed. His husband takes his time washing his face in the bathroom, making light conversation about his day. Jeonghan starts dosing off every few sentences, startling awake with a distant uh-huh when Seungcheol calls his name.

When the familiar dip in the bed catches his attention, it takes all his strength to pry his heavy eyelids back open. Firm arms enclose around his waist and allow their bodies to curve around each other in a comfortable cradle. Jeonghan breathes in his body wash and nuzzles his face into Seungcheol’s shoulder.

Chan had fallen asleep almost immediately after dinner being absolutely exhausted by the day. Jeonghan made a point not to butt in too much when Chan was explaining the story of his battle wounds to Seungcheol. He wanted to hear his side and didn’t want the story to become about himself. That conversation would come when they’d had time to themselves.

And now was the time.

Jeonghan is the first to move, propping himself back up on his mountain of pillows. Seungcheol gives him some distance by retreating to his side of the bed (yes, they had designated sides although Jeonghan ventured into his territory religiously). Jeonghan breathes in a sharp breath before releasing it in a long, measured sigh. Seungcheol takes that as his cue to prompt him into telling what was on his mind.

“I didn’t want to say it when Chan was in the room, but what happened earlier really bothered me.”

“You know it isn’t your fault—”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. That’s not what I’m talking about.” Jeonghan huffs, with a wave of his hand. It was like the scene was playing in front of him all over again and just the thought of it made his anger bubble up, tension building like a migraine growing from the base of his head. Not meaning to have snapped, Jeonghan reaches out to take Seungcheol’s warm hand in his. “I mean… Yes, I’m upset I wasn’t there to prevent it, but I’m also aware that these things happen and that I should give Chan some breathing room. But there was something else…”

“Something else?” His husband raises a skeptical brow.

“I’m not surprised Chan didn’t mention it. He probably didn’t even understand what was really going on.”

“Jeonghan, what are you talking about?” Seungcheol knows his husband is notorious for hyping up his own stories, dragging them on longer than necessary just for the anticipa-

tion.

“There was this guy…”

“Can you just tell me what happened?”

“Indulge me a little! It’s no fun if I just tell you.”

“It’s no fun if you don’t.” Laughing, Seungcheol squeezes his husband’s hand to encourage him to go on. “I’m sorry. I’m listening.” His broad smile never leaves.

“I was going to say… there was this guy. The child that pushed Chan? Her parent. Or guardian or whatever the hell he was.”

“What about him?”

“He was unapologetically rude and I wanted to shove him face first into the dirt.”

“Oh?”

“The worst part? I know this person… Sort of.”

“Oh??”

“I’ve met him before and it was not a good encounter. He was an asshole then and is one now and it’s just mind blowing that this type of human can survive in a world like this.” Jeonghan lets the frustration in him grow and grow, remembering every little detail of every single time he felt wronged by the other. Just him breathing irks him.

Seungcheol’s poor hand is being squeezed within an inch of its life, but he tries his best to be the attentive, caring husband Jeonghan needs him to be. Although no words come to him but…

“That’s sucks, babe.” He likes digging his own graves apparently.

“You can sound a little more enthused. It won’t kill you.”

“It just might.” Seungcheol plays dead, sticking his tongue out and rolling his eyes to the back of his head. He should have expected the painful jab to his stomach in response. Jeonghan lets go of his hand (thankfully) and lets his arms cross tightly over his chest instead. “You should have sent him flying. If you run into him again, give me a call and we can take him on together.” Seungcheol sits up languidly, latching his arms back around his husband, leaving tender kisses along his nape, jaw and forehead.

“I love you, asshole.” Jeonghan rolls his eyes but leans into the touch further. “If Chan wasn’t watching, he definitely would have gotten his ass kicked.”

“Sure, babe.”

They turn out the lights and drift to sleep.

“Hey bud! We’re gonna be late for school!” Seungcheol packs his son’s backpack, only slightly annoyed Chan hadn’t done it the night before like he asked.

They are off to a rocky start this morning. Jeonghan, the true driving force of early morning school duty, is gone already. He’s a freelance photographer (had gotten fed up for paying an arm and a leg for shitty Christmas card photos and decided to do it himself) and booked with some hardass, rich couple to get the best sunrise shots for an engagement announcement.

So, Seungcheol is left with the tedious task of getting Chan up and ready for school. He slept through the alarm Jeonghan set for him being so used to ignoring it in the first place. And every other minute obstacle arises just to spite him. Thankfully Jeonghan had both packed lunch and made breakfast before he left so as soon as Chan is clothed, he scoops him up and tosses places him in the car.

All these streets look exactly the same. It’s a wonder Seungcheol doesn’t get lost more often. If it weren’t for muscle memory, he probably would be trapped in the suburban neighborhood for the rest of eternity.

Despite his best efforts, he still shows up ten minutes too late. The music teacher—the one Chan always says smells like bologna—flags him down to tell him he cannot pull into the drop off lane. He has to sign Chan in. Okay, fine.

It wasn’t fine.

There is a line of around 5-10 other students who need to be signed in and Seungcheol really can’t afford to be late to work. Again. He taps his foot impatiently, glancing at the clutter of people in front of him. How long does it take to write down a name and sign a damn sheet of paper?

“Daddy?” Chan, hand curved around his dad’s larger fingers, tugs him closer. “Are you okay?” He has this saccharine look with his eyes all wide and concerned.

Once Seungcheol realizes his frantic energy is rubbing off on him, he takes extra care to relax. His jittery foot stops tapping and he focuses his full attention on Chan, eyes no longer flitting around the room.

“I’m awesome! Just excited for another day.” And terrified I’ll get caught right in the thick of rush hour traffic. Chan nods, unconvinced.

“Okay.” They take a step forward each time a person disappears from the front of the line. As soon as he gets to the counter, he’s filling out Chan’s name, grade, and the time they got here with sonic speed. The pen markings are barely legible.

He swoops down, landing a quick kiss to Chan’s forehead and wishes him a great day. The child takes off, running to class as quickly as he can manage with his two-sizes-too-big backpack while Seungcheol rushes out the front office.

It’s just Seungcheol’s luck that he ends up running into someone on his way out. Like physically running into them. If the solid mass of a human he knocked into was smaller the force may have knocked them off their feet. But instead, he goes stumbling backward. How embarrassing.

He apologizes like crazy, bowing once and when he comes up, he’s staring into the shocked face of an old classmate.

“Jang Doyoon?” He asks slightly in disbelief.

“Choi Seungcheol!” The other’s face lights up like he’s… well like he’s greeting a really old friend he hasn’t seen in years.

He sees him holding the hand of a little girl, couldn’t have been much older than his own kid. He gives an inviting wave to her, but she remains passive staring at him like the stranger he is.

“Sera, be nice.” Doyoon scolds the child and she concedes. Waves at Seungcheol, pouting still. “Sorry. She’s not much of a people person. It’s so good to see you though!”

“Definitely, you too. It’s been years! But I’m actually running late for work, so...” Seungcheol nearly forgets he’s trying to beat the traffic to get to his job at least within the grace period given. Seungcheol is doing everything he can to keep his feet planted, but he’s so close to his car, it’s pulling him in. Don’t get him wrong, he really would love to stay and chat, but one red light could lead to his ultimate downfall. In his mind, if he can beat it by one minute, he’s saved.

“I understand that.” He chuckles. “Hey, we should catch up sometime.” Doyoon’s reaching for his pocket, pulling out his phone. Sera is tugging on his hand, urging him to take her in the school.

“Yeah. Of course!” Seungcheol gives his number while the other types it in and with an energetic wave, they see each other off. Wow. What a morning.

Seungcheol does end up late.

“How do you just make plans without asking me if I want plans? There was barely any time to get ready.” Of course, Jeonghan does have enough time to get ready, but only physically. Mentally he is still trying to build up the energy to face another human today. As soon as Seungcheol messaged, “Hey I know it’s last minute, but I met up with a friend and he invited us to dinner :D ”, Jeonghan felt his stomach lurch in panic. It catches him off guard and leaves him scrambling. Who is this person? What kind of outfits should they wear? First impressions are everything.

“I know, Hannie. I’m sorry, but he just seemed so excited to meet up and I wanted to show you off a little.” Seungcheol says the last part a little deeper, hushed and sultry like. God, he knows Jeonghan’s weaknesses like the back of his hand.

“I guess that makes it a little better.” Seungcheol’s hands travel to the small of Jeonghan’s back, pulling him in for a tender peck on the lips. “Okay, but next time please give us at least a few hours in advance. I don’t even know where we’re going. What if this person is a serial killer?”

“I can assure you he isn’t. We were actually—”

“I can’t find Bumblebee!” Chan shrieks like a crack of lightning, descending the stairs with thunderous footsteps. “I just had him!”

Seungcheol audibly groans, looking at his watch. “Do you really need him? We’re going to dinner, not a play date.”

“I need Bumblebee!”

“I’ll go help him look.” Jeonghan places a quick kiss to Seungcheol’s lips before allowing Chan to lead him to the last place he saw it.

“It’s gotta be quick bud, we’re running late. I’ll be in the car.” Seungcheol yells behind the crew, grabbing the keys. This whole day he felt like he was running behind. Tonight is no different.

Seungcheol rings the door bell then takes a polite step backwards. His husband and son are flanking him on either side, the picture-perfect family standing in a proper line.

They wait.

Then wait some more.

There’s no movement on the other side. No shuffling or dog bark or tell-tale sign of human life at all. Seungcheol checks his watch making sure the time is right. He steps forward once again. Rings the doorbell, holding down the button a little longer so the diiiing dooong rings out loud and slow. He steps back. He waits again.

“Are you sure this is the right house?” Jeonghan asks, looking around. They aren’t too far from their own neighborhood, yet somehow this one feels a world away.  For one, the houses have different layouts and designs from each other—completely contradicting the uniformness of his own. The streets don’t all form perfect blocks with perfect right angles. And when you ring the doorbell, people apparently don’t immediately answer. Yes, very different.

“Yeah… I mean unless the GPS was wrong.” Seungcheol scratches the back of his head. He reaches forward once more to try the doorbell again and to his surprise the door swings open. Doyoon is standing there catching his breath.

“Sorry. I was in the bathroom and Sera refused to get the door. I told her we were… having… guests…” Doyoon’s smile drops at the same rate his words peter out. He’s now staring agape at this odd turn of events. Jeonghan is startled as well, jaw slack, truly stunned.

“What are you doing here?” Jeonghan asks dumbly. He looks to Doyoon and then to Seungcheol and back to Doyoon. He’s feeling a strong sense of betrayal. He’d never really mentioned that Doyoon was the person he’d met at the park, nor had he mentioned them knowing each other in college. As far as he knew, Doyoon wasn’t on Seungcheol’s radar. But now he’s claiming to be old friends!

“I live here...” Is what Doyoon replies with. They fall into an intolerable silence shortly after. Jeonghan is looking down at the shoddy “Welcome” mat like it offends him. Doyoon is shifting his feet with an expression Seungcheol can’t really place. Awkward is an understatement.

But Seungcheol is determined to have his old best friend and life partner get along. Instead of plummeting face first into the bottom of a pit, Seungcheol tries to save their sinking ship by saying,

“So you two know each other already?” Though not even his sunshine smile can melt away the icy winter forming between the two.

It was going to be a long night.

Kids have this wonderful way of getting over grudges: apologizing once, hugging it out, bonding over some animated TV program they both adore. It’s precious how simple their problems seem, how easily they are resolved. Jeonghan is envious that his own life lacks that simplicity.

For the kids, it’s as easy as Sera saying sorry with a shy frown on bow shaped lips and hands clasped nervously behind her back. She is kinda cute when she’s not trying to look so mean. Jeonghan is happy that his kid made up with his bully and that she seems to feel remorse for her actions. Did he fully forgive her for hurting his baby? No. But he’s an adult so he has to be the bigger person.

Well… in that situation. But in facing his own bully, he wasn’t too keen on forgiving and forgetting.

Doyoon didn’t go into the specifics of their encounters, only briefly explaining that they had known each other vaguely during the year he left their university. He completely grazed over it in conversation and something about that irked Jeonghan more than he thought it would. Reading the vibe, Jeonghan was courteous enough not to reveal the extremes of their dynamic at the dinner table. Instead, he nodded and shrugged it off. Oh, he’d have a field day as soon as they made it home!

Seungcheol and Doyoon caught up over small things, big things, all things. Things Jeonghan didn’t understand nor really care to. And it became abundantly clear after the third time Jeonghan tried to add to the conversation that he was out of his element.

Each time he tried to interject, it would casually get cut off or the conversation would die shortly after. So, petty as it may be, Jeonghan decided to sit back with his arms crossed, trying his best to not let his dejection show.

Not that it really mattered. They didn’t seem to notice. Not when he slammed down his chopsticks a little too harshly after Seunghcheol incessantly complimented Doyoon on the delicious dinner, bragging on his cooking skills from “back in the day”. Not when Jeonghan huffed under his breath during a recanting of that one crazy professor they mutually hated their first year of uni together. The kids, oblivious as ever excuse themselves to play with some toys in Sera’s play room and now Jeonghan is alone. He feels like the third wheel even though he’s with HIS husband!

Jeonghan doesn’t understand why its so easy for Seungcheol to get along with him anyway. He can’t even stand to look at his face, let alone cordially communicate with him. Jeonghan leans back into his chair, a bored expression morphing his usually gentle features into a cold, distant glower. It’s not like he can just scream “Hey! Your friend’s an asshole and doesn’t deserve our time!”

Well…

He flicks the thought away no matter how tempting it is. He’s an adult now, not a haughty college student. He’s not that same impulsive 22-year-old, fishing for drama and seeking out spilled tea. He’s not that same kid that would have caused a huge scene and embarrassed Doyoon by calling him out in front of his daughter and throwing some underhand comment about how he’s a bad influence to his own damn kid.

“-han?”

“Huh?” Jeonghan is reeled back in feeling a bit guilty for his mean slew of thoughts.

“Are you okay?” Seungcheol asks. Jeonghan gives a lopsided shrug and tries to be responsive by bringing a bit of color back into his expression. But even he can tell its perceived as forced. He’s honestly never been that good at hiding his emotions.

“I think I know…” Doyoon begins and this does peak Jeonghan’s attention making him sit a little straighter and loosen the tightened cross of his arms. “I… I’ve been meaning to apologize actually.”

Seungcheol draws his thick brows together in a perplexed frown. He licks his lips trying to assess the situation, squinting slightly between the two to decipher whatever coded language they’ve been conversing in all night.

He can’t really be that dense, can he? Fuck, I married this idiot. Jeonghan thinks offhandedly.

Doyoon continues, “I will admit that we didn’t get off to a good start when we’d first met. We had our differences.” Differences my ass, Jeonghan thinks. You spilled hot coffee on me, stained my favorite shirt, and never said sorry. “I wasn’t in the right state of mind back then and was kind of bitter about the situation I was in. I guess it’s kind of obvious, but I never got my degree. Sera came and I had to put everything on hold to take care of her when her birth mother decided to run away.”

Aww boo hoo, Jeonghan thinks. Of course, he has some tragic sob story. And it’ll definitely work on Seungcheol. He’s always been the weak one. But as Jeonghan thinks more on it, it is a pretty unfortunate story. He couldn’t imagine being left to raise Chan on his own in the middle of thesis work. And although Jeonghan can sympathize, he doesn’t think people should use their shitty circumstances to justify their shitty behavior.

Seungcheol looks so invested, he can practically see the popcorn and Icee in his hands as the movie unfolds in front of him.

“So I guess it’s long overdue, but… I am sorry. For all the shitty things I’ve said or done to you.” Doyoon takes a big breath and lets it go, exhaling all of the pent-up negativity he’s harbored in his chest since what seems like forever.

“And the incident at the park?”

“YOU were the one Jeonghan wanted to slam in the dirt?” Seungcheol eggs on.

Jeonghan nervously chuckles and lands a sharp kick to Seungcheol’s shin.

“Right… It was an off day, but I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. After the fact, I realized it wasn’t the politest reaction, but I talked to her about it right after and explained that what she did wasn’t okay… And I’m sorry for that too.”

Jeonghan thinks it over for a second, expression unwavering for a while before saying, “Apology accepted.” He shrugs, “Our kids seem to be getting along well and I would hate for any grudges we have against each other to ruin what could be a nice friendship. Plus, you aren’t that bad, I guess.” His aloof words are betrayed by the growing smile teasing his lips. He hates now more than ever that he can’t hide his emotions better.

“Wow. I still feel like I’m missing so much.” Seungcheol chimes in cocking his head to the side.

Both Doyoon and Jeonghan simultaneously roll their eyes.

“Maybe we can set up a play date later and try this again?” Doyoon asks, unsure.

“I think that’s a good idea.”

“That did not go at all like I expected.” Seungcheol huffed, falling back onto their couch haphazardly. His arm instinctively found its way around his husband’s shoulders. What he didn’t expect was for him to shrug it off and stare cross armed at him. He’s been doing that a lot lately.

“Yeah. Same.” They’d put Chan to sleep and now were left to their own devices.

“Are you mad? I really didn’t know. I didn’t know he was the one.”

“I’m not mad. Anymore.” But the same indignant expression remained resolute.

“Then why are you scowling at me?”

“Oh please. I’m too handsome to scowl.” Seungcheol reaches out to poke his cheek and Jeonghan mocks biting his finger off.

“Looks like a scowl to me.” He drags Jeonghan into his arms even with the other still stubbornly closed in on himself. “Then what’s wrong? Didn’t you resolve everything?”

“He’s not the one I’m mad at!” Jeonghan whines into Seungcheol’s bicep, the strong hold around him smothering and comfortable.

“Ah! So you are mad?”

“Not necessarily. I just… you two got along really well and then Chan made up with Sera and then it was just me.”

“Babe,” Seungcheol has this big ass smile on his face when he pulls back enough to look at Jeonghan. “Were you… jealous?”

Jeonghan scoffs. What? Him? Choi Jeonghan jealous? Yeah right!

Well…

Yeah… right.

“Everyone was on his side and I was like the only one in the room that couldn’t relate to anything or add anything to the conversation. You have no idea how frustrating that is!”

“Hannie, you know I’m always on your side, right?” He places a soft kiss on his lips and Jeonghan’s solid resolve finally starts to crack. He nods.

“I know.” He snuggles closer, finally releasing his arms from their defensive position to wrap them around his husband. “But you should start complimenting my cooking like that!”

“Alright. Alright.” They laugh until it trickles off into calm sighs and spend the rest of their night giving cheesy compliments for the most mundane things.

Chapter Text

It’s summer break! Chan’s favorite! The peanut butter to his jelly. The cheese to his crackers. There is absolutely nothing he loves more than his summer breaks.

Well… Okay. Okay. There are many times a year that rival summer in the Choi household, but Chan can truly say summers are his favorite. Really!

Right after Halloween…

And Christmas…

And his birthday….

Yes, okay. A lot of favorites.

But summer is an extra special favorite. It feels like school lets out for a whole year. He just wants to absorb every second of freedom like a sea sponge bobbing atop the ocean waves. Don’t get him wrong though, he loves school. Loves his patient teachers and his animated friends and the new class pet that kind of just sits there all day and computer lab where they get to play pizza parlor games and science projects with the fourth graders…

Where was he? Oh.

But he also loves spending long summer days with his dads. He loves traveling to far out places that he doesn’t get to visit often. Roadtrips where they listen to Smooth Criminal and Shinee and Suju. He loves getting to eat ice cream because ‘its just too hot’ and staying up past his bedtime to snuggle in between his dads while they watch his favorite movies. And one of the things he looks forward to most is going to the beach.

FINALLY it’s warm enough for it. Chan remembers squishing his toes in the sand and watching it bubble up beneath his feet. He remembers running right to the edge of the water as the ocean waves retreated and scurrying back as the water charges toward him. He remembers collecting seashells with unique swirls and ridges. And sandcastles. He remembers building a sandcastle only fit for kings. Chan has been told many times before that he has amazing patience. Patience is what makes his sandcastles the awesomest most bestest sandcastles on this entire side of Korea.

Chan is leaning on his dad’s shoulder, knees bent under him, bouncing on the couch like an energetic puppy. Jeonghan has on his reading glasses—the ones that make him look far older than he really is—as he looks over some paper with a long list of words scribbled down the middle. He pushes his glasses up and goes to write when a jolt creates a dark slash of pen markings on his paper. He sighs.

“Chan, baby. I need you to be still so I can make sure we have everything for the trip.”

And Chan stops immediately, frozen like a marbled statue. Patience. He’s just so excited, he wants to shake and shimmy and scream and play. Oh god, does he want to play. But Jeonghan-appa says he has to be still so they will have everything they need to go to the beach. So he challenges himself to be still.

Seungcheol walks down the stairs with a family sized beach bag slung over his shoulder. When Chan sees him, he flings himself off the couch. In a second, he’s clinging onto his leg, resuming his energetic bounce. The “stillness” didn’t last long. Not at all in this household.

Challenge: Failed.

“I can help! Lemme help!” Chan shouts. If he can pack quickly, they can leave even sooner. He’s determined.

Seungcheol puts his large hand on Chan’s head, smoothing the unruly hair from his face. He chuckles lightly, the skin around his eyes wrinkling up. His son is quick to grab his hand and pull him over to the couch where all of the supplies are sprawled out on the living room floor in front of it. Chan sits by them, pulling his dad down with him. Seungcheol has to squat slowly to get his knees to cooperate and damn, it’s slowly donning on him that he’s getting old.

“What have we got here?” Seungcheol scrunches up his nose at a pack of fabric, shower cap like accessories. He picks it up with two skeptical fingers while looking at his husband. Jeonghan shrugs.

“They’re shoe covers so we don’t track sand into the car. It stays in there forever and I don’t want to have to do a deep cleaning so close to the last one.”

Seungcheol laughs boisterously, catching Jeonghan and Chan off guard. It’s quite loud in the calm quiet morning. “Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?”

“Ummm…” Jeonghan dramatically shifts his face into one of mock confusion. He even goes as far as to cupping his chin with his thumb and index finger. Seungcheol knows he’s made a mistake then.  Jeonghan continues, “Last time I checked, you weren’t the one who cleaned the car.” Jeonghan jabs a pointed finger at Seungcheol on the you and Seungcheol’s smile remains even as he’s being lightly scolded. His husband sits on the couch like it’s his thrown, one leg crossed over the other. He peers down at him through the reading glasses perched on his nose. From their position, Seungcheol stares up at him like he owns the world and his heart to go with it. The I love you plays behind his lips, but he knows Jeonghan already feels him thinking it with the way he unconsciously leans toward him and lets his smile grow exponentially.

Chan in his own world just now remembers some seashells he hid in the cup holder in the back back of the car from last time. He wonders if his dad has thrown them out since he cleaned the car. He hopes not so he can find more today and start a real collection.

“Alright!” Jeonghan claps his hands together. He begins rattling off supplies. Towels, bottles of water, flip flops. Seungcheol shouts a “got it” or some other acknowledgement after each one, packing them strategically in his beach bag. Seungcheol wants Chan to think he’s helping, but in all actuality Jeonghan is going so fast, his son’s tiny limbs can’t keep up. Before Chan can even process the word, Seungcheol is reaching for the corresponding item and guiding his son’s hands like he is the one to pack them. Eventually Chan falls into a fit of giggles at his dad’s frantic searching through the pile for an umbrella hat? He isn’t even sure what that is and swears it must be a joke. But he realizes it isn’t once Jeonghan concedes, “They were on sale.” As soon as Seungcheol grabs an item and places it into the bag, his husband is yelling out the next, leaving little room for air. They’re already in such a good mood and the day has barely started.

On their way out, Jeonghan grabs a cooler with snacks and packed lunches. Sandwiches and fruits and all the simple foods their hearts desired. And once the car is loaded, the drive to the beach begins!

When Chan wakes up, he notices the car has stopped moving. In his disoriented haze, he rubs at his eyes. His body hasn’t fully booted up, but its easy to see the moment in which it does. There are blue skies. The bluest he’s ever seen. Blue like the crayon he uses to color his perfect sunny day. Blue like the popsicle that stains his tongue. And a long stretch of sand fading into the ocean makes him excitedly squeal.

“Seems like someone finally woke up.” Seungcheol teases. “We thought we’d have to go have all the fun by ourselves.”

“I’m up! I’m up!” Chan shouts, untangling himself from his seat belt.

They file out the car, Chan squinting from the bright sun. He’s ready to take off but forgets his floaties, pail and shovel. He runs to Seungcheol’s side and pulls on his hand. “Trunk?”

Seungcheol gets the hint and presses the small button on his key. The back door of their minivan begins rising. “Hold on, Chan!” He knows his kid. And his selective vision will have him pulling out his own accessories without realizing everything on top of it. He doesn’t want this beach day to end early because Chan buried himself under all the beach gear. Seungcheol runs to the back before anything gets tugged out of place. “Let me help you there, bud.”

Jeonghan joins them, grabbing the totes while Seungcheol carries the cooler. Chan has his accessories in a mesh bag and before they can set up a game plan, their seven-year-old is padding down the walkway, sand crunching under his flip flops.

“That nap in the car only fueled him. What have we done?” Seungcheol laughs beside his husband as they trail after the kid.

“No, the gummies you snuck him for breakfast fueled him. What have you done?” He accuses instead, but a warm smile shows his contentment. The sand sunk under their footsteps, temporary imprints leaving their mark. The sounds of the waves crashing upon shore lull them into a serenity the suburbs could never offer. Sea foam bubbles up at the edge before getting replaced by a new wave. Everchanging.

Chan seems to have found a spot. Although he could have chosen any with the relatively empty beach front, one certain spot calls to him and his parents allow him to guide them there. And the spot was perfect. The perfect distance from the water to protect his unbuilt sandcastle from the tide.

But first, a dip in the ocean!

Chan sits his things down and makes to dash toward the water, but lithe arms swoop him up. Chan yelps before releasing high pitched laughter. He has his back against his dad’s chest and wiggles his dangling feet.

“The ultimate Spider-Chan is trying to escape!” Jeonghan launches into a roleplay, wrapping his arms tighter around his son. “Quick! Stop him with the top-secret goop!”

Seungcheol makes a big display of shuffling through the tote bag to pull out the sunscreen. A diabolical laugh secures his spot in the roleplay as well.

“I have the top-secret goop! What shall I do with it?” Seungcheol approaches the pair. How silly Jeonghan looks with his nose scrunched up in mischief. A silly, beautiful display of candid bliss. His curved fingers tickle at his son’s sides and the boy dissolves into laughter, all but shrieking in delight. Seungvheol uncaps the lid, squirting a pea sized dot onto his finger and boops his son on the nose.

“Alright.” Jeonghan squats down until he’s sat with Chan in between his legs. He sticks out his palm and on instinct, Seungcheol is squirting the lotion into his hand. He takes some into his own and like the perfect team they are, they cover their son in no time. Seungcheol rubs at his round cheeks and rubs down his arms. Jeonghan rubs at his back and down his neck. And God, why does absolutely everything tickle this child? He won’t be stop moving, but they’re determined to go home without a sunburn today.

Chan escapes as soon as Seungcheol moves from in front of him. His beach toys went ignored for too long so he goes to keep them company. Seungcheol takes his place.

“Don’t forget your face this time, Cheol.”

“Got it.”

Hands massage his shoulder blades and rub down his back in a circular motion. Seungcheol has to fight the urge to lean back into his husband. Times like these, even the simplest of gestures makes him incredibly grateful for Jeonghan. He wouldn’t have anyone to rub sunscreen into the places he can’t reach. No one to remember to even pack it. No one to help him play with his son at the beach—no one to help raise him. No one to cherish this close to his heart. Why is he getting emotional over sunscreen? Because Jeonghan. That’s why.

Seungcheol returns the favor making Jeonghan sigh in satisfaction. He is melting in the palm of his hand. He watches as his husband tilts his chin up, closing his eyes. The sun kisses his skin and now Seungcheol has the urge to do the same. He leans forward and leaves a small lingering kiss on Jeonghan’s neck, ignoring the strong scent of the sunscreen. He wraps his arms around the other’s stomach and rests his head on the shoulder in front of him. They sit there for a few solitary seconds just breathing. Breathing in each other’s space and acknowledging each other’s presence.

“I’d go to the beach everyday if it meant getting a free massage.” Jeonghan jokes. Seungcheol can feel the vibrations of Jeonghan speaking, a light buzz of energy between them.

He grins then leans forward. His lips are close to the shell of Jeonghan’s ear. “All you have to do is ask.”

“Can we go in the water now?” Chan plopped himself into Jeonghan’s lap eliciting a startled “oof” from his husband.

Mood effectively killed.

“Of course we can!” Chan jumps back up at Jeonghan’s words.

Chan holds out his hands so he can help Jeonghan up. And Jeonghan doesn’t want to embarrass his baby so he pretends that he isn’t using his own strength (and Seungcheol’s hand on his backside) to stand. “Great job! You’re getting so strong!” Seungcheol beams at Chan and sends a sly wink toward his husband.

The water is cool on the soles of their feet. With Chan in the middle, both hands grasped tightly by his parents, the family inch closer to the water. The waves come to greet them, drifting up to their ankles and back out into the ocean. A tiny school of fish swirl around their feet, traveling across the edge of the water. Chan gasps in wonder. Something so tiny working together to find their place in this world, Chan thinks it’s something to celebrate.

The further in they get, Jeonghan decides to hold Chan. He’s been practicing his swimming, but Jeonghan feels a lot more secure with Chan in his arms like this. Seungcheol does too with Jeonghan in his own. His hands guide his waist to give him that extra support. And each time a new wave rolls in, they welcome it with a hop.

Like this, Chan really thinks summer is his favorite. It’s fought its way back to the top. It proved its worth in the way both of his dads dote on him as they splash and swim in the ocean. As Seungcheol reaches out to rub mustard off his cheek from their mid-noon lunch. As Jeonghan falls asleep and they conspire to build angel wings out of sand around him, holding in their giggles long enough to not wake their sleeping angel. As Chan builds an even bigger, even better sandcastle (with help of course). And as Chan collects seashells in his little pail while the sun begins to set.

He knows he’ll go on many more adventures this summer. And no matter what, he’ll have the most fun when he’s with his parents. But for today, he’ll officially deem it the best one yet.

Chapter Text

Breakfast consists of a bowl of cereal and a banana today in the Choi household... though not necessarily by choice. By both Jeonghan and Seungcheol having the day off, normally they’d decide to cook a nice hearty meal for the three of them. But today fresh, home-cooked breakfast isn't on the menu.

After searching the fridge for breakfast items (and then lunch and then dinner), it's decided that grocery shopping would be their familial task of the day. 

Honestly speaking, Jeonghan would much rather nap. After he just woke up? Yes. But sleeping in meant forfeiting all his plans for the day and the chores weren’t going to do themselves. Maaaaybe when they get back, he'll treat himself to the luxury of a nap. But for now, they’ve got work to do.

He figured it was better to get the shopping done before the crowds of 9-5 office workers flocked to the stores. Yet, in a suburban town such as this one, things don’t always go according to plan. Having only one central supermarket and a slew of students fresh on summer break intermingled with seasonal job employees, he was instead met with a crowded mess. And was quick to realize that it would be that way at any time of the day, any day of the week. It’s amazing how many people sardine themselves into a department store at 11 am on a weekday morning. 

Amazing in a bad way, Jeonghan might add.

Either way, it needs to be done so he, Seungcheol, and Chan find themselves staring down the entrance of the supermarket with a vengeance.

Previously, they’d come up with a plan for shopping. Go down every aisle. It became routine since it worked so well. Jeonghan personally recommends it since it’s more efficient than going to one aisle, crossing to the other side of the store only to realize you forgot an item that was right next to the last one. (Really. Try it if you haven’t.)

“I saw this new recipe for spaghetti I think we should try.” Seungcheol says, scrolling through his phone with one hand, pushing the cart with the other. He’s recently gotten into those 60 second instagram videos of outlandish unique dishes and Jeonghan doesn’t have the heart to tell him that most of those “hacks” and “tricks” are fake. I mean preparing a whole meal and only showing a minute of it? Seems sketch to him. Besides, the boys love it when he cooks spaghetti.

Right?

“What’s wrong with my recipe?” Jeonghan’s tone dips into that natural whine he knows Seungcheol hates and loves. Really, Jeonghan thinks his spaghetti is just fine.

“Eyy. Don’t be like that. It’s just something different to try.” Seungcheol pockets his phone and resists the urge to boop his husband’s nose. “I love your spaghetti.” Even when you scorch the bottom of the saucepan or leave the noodles in too long, is what he doesn’t say.

“Sure. Fine. But you’re doing the cooking.” Jeonghan caves because “I love your spaghetti” may have been the sexiest thing his husband has ever said to him.

“Deal.”

Okay , Jeonghan thinks, I’ll let him have this ounce of experimentation.  

On to the soup aisle, past the seasonings, right by the pasta.

Jeonghan thinks they’re making great time. Besides the occasional buggy bumper cars and the stray child running in circles, they manage to not injure, harm, or hurt themselves or others . But coming up towards the cereal and snack foods, Jeonghan can almost feel the tugging at his shirt, the constant “daddy, please” beginning to form out his son’s lips. A reminder to not injure, harm, hurt himself or others gets increasingly difficult when trying to avoid the begging of a seven-year-old boy (and a seven-year-old man). 

Seungcheol is manning the cart so Jeonghan can’t even discreetly skip this section. Nor is he quick enough to distract as his son’s eyes light up instantly at the colorful array of cereal boxes.

“Daddy, can we get this one?”

So it begins.

Jeonghan as calmly as he can manage, “We still have cereal at home.”

“But we don’t have this one. It’s cotton candy flavored!” Jeonghan cringes at Chan’s explanation imagining how much sugar goes into a cotton candy flavored cereal. Way more than Chan needs he’s sure.

“We don’t have this one...” Seungcheol chimes in, picking up the box and placing it in Chan’s grabby hands. Jeonghan’s already lost this one because it seems his husband is just as intrigued. 

What happened to solidarity? Jeonghan thinks. Instead of having a child and a husband, it seems like he’s the caregiver for two big babies. 

“You can choose one box of cereal.” Two sets of wide-eyed, puppy dog stares meet him, lower lips jutted out in the pouts that Jeonghan liked to believe didn’t work on him. “Each.”

It still worked.

He should just do shopping on his own because this happens every time. The two of them bind together to effectively get whatever they want.

And not a minute after,

“Daddy, can we get Pop-Tarts?” 

“You never finish them, baby.”

“I eat them!”

“You eat about half…”

“I don’t like the crust.”

“It’s a Pop-Tart! The whole thing is crust!”

This argument happens each time too. And then Chan tries to persuade Jeonghan to get the strawberry ones so they can share. And Jeonghan politely declines because he doesn’t like the snack anyway. And Chan sulks. Because he’s just like Seungcheol and they sulk when they don’t get what they want. But Jeonghan must put his foot down somewhere otherwise the cart will be overflowing with junk food and nothing sustainable.

“Daddy, can we get…”

“You know the more you ask, the less I want to get?” Jeonghan is reaching the end of his patience after the 8th or so time Chan asked for something he just can’t live without. 

“But…”

“If you ask again, I’m making you put something back.” 

A hand comes to rest on his shoulder. Seungcheol. His physical reminder to breathe. To relax and not let something so simple irritate him so quickly. Afterall, it isn’t something to get so worked up about. Chan does really well in school and doesn’t act up often. He doesn’t cause a scene and throw major tantrums in public like other kids. So Jeonghan tries to be a little more patient. He tries to be a bit more understanding. 

Okay and maybe he should have slept in a little more. 

Jeonghan softens his tone, “What did you want to get?”

“Strawberry syrup. For your strawberry milk.” Those big brown eyes look up at him in innocence and Jeonghan is ready to melt. Now he feels like the biggest asshole ever. Of course, the one time he snaps, it’s something as selfless as this. He really does have such a sweet child.

“Aww. Thank you, baby.” Jeonghan brushes Chan’s hair. His son runs straight to the syrup, reaching up to a shelf way past his height.

“Got it.” Seungcheol walks over, lifting him (with airplane noises of course) so he can grab the bottle he wants. Chan likes to feel like he can choose for himself.

Chan creates a little space just for the syrup bottle to sit comfortably. Is it the cutest thing ever that his kid makes a special spot for it like he’s playing a game of tetris? Yes. Simple pockets of joy come in the strangest ways and Jeonghan is super grateful that he has the family he does. Are they annoying, yes, but he’s appreciative.

Jeonghan checks the grocery list again and sees most items crossed off.

“One more thing then we’re outta here.” Only thing left is the frozen chicken nuggets but OH! He forgot the ketchup for them. It’s only two aisles back and the chicken nuggets are two aisles forward, he’ll just catch up with them. “I forgot the ketchup. I’m gonna go grab some.”

“You got tomato sauce, daddy. We can’t use that?” Chan asks following right on his heels as he turns the corner. Sometimes Chan is so grown up for his age and other times Jeonghan has to remind himself that his son isn’t a walking encyclopedia and won’t know things unless told or discovered. 

“They’re very different. You can use the tomato sauce for things like soup and spaghetti but the taste is different. And ketchup is thicker. While we’re here, did you want honey mustard—”

He turns with the condiments in hand to where he thought Chan was following behind him. 

“Chan?” He calls out, looking left and right to make sure he hadn’t wandered down the aisle. But he isn’t there. Where did he go?

As easy as it is to say “don’t panic”, it's not so easy to do. Not when you suddenly lose track of your son in a super crowded supermarket.

“Chan?” He calls again, walking toward the front of the aisle. There’s just an endless sea of people and products and no Chan.

He feels his heart rate pick up its pace and his stomach clenches around itself.

Where did he go? They were just talking a second ago. Chan asked him a question so he just assumed he’d follow… 

Jeonghan goes an aisle back, peering through the people. God, so many people. Where is his son? 

No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Is he panicking? Well his son is missing. Of course he’s panicking! 

He retraces his steps to the next aisle back, pace too fast to be casual. To no avail, he can’t see his baby.

Having him there one second and gone the next, Jeonghan feels himself losing sense of his rationality and composure. The pit in his stomach grows and grows and grows with each Chan-less aisle and he feels dreadfully sick.

Fuck feeling embarrassed, he calls out his name again and again, dodging through the hordes of people. His eyes begin to sting thinking about how quickly things turned terrible. Worst case scenarios float through his head. How could he let this happen? How would he explain to his husband? Would he ever see his baby again? He checks where he was and then checks again. Although only seconds pass, entire narratives flash through his mind. How he criticized parents for not being attentive enough. He would never end up like that parent! Now what could he say?

He rushes back back toward where he left Seungcheol, razor sharp vision scanning through people for any sign of his child.

And then he hears a laugh. Amongst hundreds of people, he hears that one beautiful, unrestrained wonder-filled laugh and knows it is his son.

Running to it, he sees his husband and none other than Chan himself clinging on to the side of the cart. In that moment, he gave no care to how frazzled he looked or how abnormal it was to break down into tears in a busy supermarket. He hugs Chan like it was the last he’d ever give. And for a moment he thought about how any could be.

“What’s wrong?” Seungcheol looks on concerned.

“Daddy?” Chan doesn’t get it now and hopes he never will have to.

“Chan, you can’t go off without letting me know. I thought you were right behind me and then you were gone.” It all seems so silly now. Him losing his composure and running through the store like he had his head cut off. But really, in the moment, he couldn’t see himself reacting any more calmly. Is this what paternal instincts feel like? 

Jeonghan can breathe again and although slightly upset, he’s so incredibly relieved.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to get dino-nuggets.” He pouts, obviously feeling guilty. But he had to go back and make sure Seungcheol-appa didn’t get the wrong nuggets again! 

Jeonghan will have to give him a good talking to about store safety and not just changing his mind without telling someone, but he also needed to make sure he was keeping an eye out himself. But that comes later. For now, he just wants to hug his baby and reassure himself that his family is all safe and accounted for.

Chapter Text

In the distance there’s a slight hum. A dull whirring that stays on one continuous pitch like a nagging drone. It’s one you can ignore for a bit. It’s there, but your mind just hasn’t noticed. It’s the kind of sound that doesn’t grab your attention right away, not until someone points it out.

But then that hum grows louder. It gnaws and grates on your eardrums like the most offensive thing you’ve ever heard. It gets closer and more forceful, invading the peace you once had. And then it’s right by you, white noise drowning out anything but the sound of that obnoxious, throbbing hmmmmm .

Landscape Monday.

It is unarguably Jeonghan’s most hated day of the week (underlined and bolded). Just thinking about it brings a pounding to his skull.

Monday is the chosen day that the entire neighborhood alights with grass cutting, weed whacking machinery. Their purpose is to shape up bushes, trim hedges, even out lawns, and get on Jeonghan’s last nerve apparently. It begins at 8 am every Monday. The quaint little suburban neighborhood they live in is punctual with its activities (unfortunately for him). Even down to the form and fashion of their grass cutting techniques, they strive for perfection.

A company is hired to maintain the “artistic integrity of higher living” they say in the monthly newsletter taped to their door. But Jeonghan knows that’s only code for “we need to appeal to the market”. And although grateful that he doesn’t have to drag the lawnmower back and forth with the summer sun burning his fair skin, Jeonghan absolutely despises the existence of this company for the sole reason of them ruining an entire morning for him. Once. A. Week. Maybe if they didn’t begin their work before he’s fully had time to relax from the morning rush of dropping Chan off during the school year. Or if they’d not take hours upon hours (late afternoon and they would still be going strong) to finish.

But here he is. In bed. Groaning for the fourth time since he noticed the damned buzzing.

“I forget… this is why I don’t take Mondays off.” Seungcheol can’t ignore it either. His hand drags down his face making his frown droop.

Jeonghan rolls his eyes open. The frozen scowl on his own face can’t be masked no matter how hard he tries. Looking at his husband, he doesn’t seem to be holding up much better. Jeonghan’s always wondered how his pout can be so permanent even when he isn’t actively trying to convince someone to do something for him. It’s cute and maybe he wants to reach out and poke his puffy cheeks but he won’t. Instead, he lays on his stomach with half his face buried into the pillowcase.

Seungcheol stretches on his back. He stills after his joints pop a few times and turns to eye his husband. He looks just as groggy.

“Do they do this—”

“Every Monday.”

The humming began to grow quieter as if the growling monster was stalking away. They both relax into the bed, sighs matching each other.

Seungcheol rolls himself on his side mimicking Jeonghan’s position. He cradles his head in his own arm and nuzzles into it. Even if his eyes are squinted and sleep ridden, Jeonghan thinks they look pretty under the orange stream of light beaming through their sheer curtains. His long eyelashes are like fans as he blinks once, twice. Even the crust in the corner can’t deter Jeonghan from staring quietly at him. It was almost romantic as they lay in peace, the low buzz complacent in the furthest crevice of their minds.

Brum-Brum-Brum-brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Jeonghan is transported straight back to hell, temporary silence long forgotten. No dewy brown eyes, big sweeping lashes or faint orange glow can distract him from the engine of a small motor winding back into full fruition. The metallic clang clashes with the thwip of the wire and the machine sputters to life. He can almost picture the exact scene with how LOUD they grate on his ears.

Jeonghan presses impossibly close to Seungcheol. Their legs naturally intertwine like missing pieces of a puzzle finding their place. His head steals the fold of his husband’s arm bringing their morning breathed faces too close for comfort. And then Jeonghan is pulling a stray pillow from somewhere behind him to shove against the other side of his head. Like this, he is sandwiched between Seungcheol’s arm pillow and an actual pillow and the sound goes muddled.

It does for a bit anyway. The sound cuts through his pillow like the weedwhacker does the grass. It sounds like the person cutting it is simply there to play a game of charades like he’s in the newest Star Wars movie swooshing his weapon through the air. He can’t believe there are actual twelve-hour ASMR videos of this noise.  But also he can believe it because there are. He’s stumbled upon them once too many times while looking for clean with me motivational videos.  (Also ASMR. Don’t judge him.)

Anyway, they’re not sleeping in any time today. He pushes away the pillow in frustration but stays glued to his spot, seeking purchase in the natural scent of Seungcheol and the warmth his body radiates. His chest is firm, his other arm pulling him tighter. With the arm under Jeonghan’s head and the other wrapping around his upper shoulder, the blaring of the landscapers don’t seem as bad anymore. Jeonghan snakes his arm around his husband’s waist and their cocoon of an embrace is nice amongst the background.

It’s short-lived when a seven-year-old comes hurdling—and he means hurdling into their room, flinging himself right in the middle of their pile and bumping his bony elbows into the softness of their flesh.

“It’s so LOUD!” Chan shouts, nestled now in between his parents. Jeonghan wants to comment on how he adds to the noise pollution but he doesn’t have the energy. The parents scoot apart and Chan lays defeated between them. Seungcheol starts stroking his messy hair out of his face. It’s been getting longer since summer break began. Chan still isn’t used to these Mondays since he’s usually in school at this hour.

“Well I guess it’s time to get up since none of us can sleep anyway.” Seungcheol says the words like he speaks of regret yet his expression emits the calmest of pheromones, a gentle smile turning the natural downslope of his lips upward.

Jeonghan thinks it’s okay this way too. He’s content to lay here a little longer just like this.