Archive of Our Own ^beta

Toronto, Canada

I. Summer, 2000

It’s early afternoon when they receive the news.

The big day is nothing like Johnny had envisioned it to be. Although it’s early summer, the temperatures have reached an all-time high, unusually hot for a typical June day. So naturally, he had imagined the scorching sun shining into his eyes, almost blinding him, as he drove from Toronto to Hamilton.

But the skies are grey outside, the storm clouds pregnant with raindrops.

Not long after Johnny and Taeyong climb into the car, it begins to rain. It rains heavily, raindrops beating down on the windshield.

Taeyong fidgets beside him, the obnoxious swishing of the windshield wipers likely to be getting on his nerves. Johnny reaches over the gear to rest a hand on Taeyong’s thigh, eyes on the road.

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” he reassures, his voice calmer than he anticipates.

They stop at a red light and Johnny’s eyes flicker towards Taeyong for a quick glimpse of the love of his life. Taeyong is gnawing at his lower lip, his hands clenched in tight fists. He shifts his hand to rest over Taeyong’s hands instead.

“It’ll be okay,” he repeats, turning back to the road, just on time for the green light.

The afternoon thunderstorm subsides by the time they arrive at the hospital forty-five minutes later. Johnny forgoes the umbrellas, but as he prepares to lock the car, Taeyong insists that they bring a pair.

“Just in case,” Taeyong says, “What if it rains again when we’re leaving the hospital?”

The reception area is unbearably cold and Johnny watches goosebumps form on Taeyong’s arm as he leans against the counter.

“Could you please redirect us to the maternity ward?” Taeyong asks in a soft, polite voice that’s slightly higher in pitch than his normal voice.

Following the nurse’s instructions, they navigate their way around the large hospital. The winding hallways make Johnny’s head spin and he wonders just how the doctors and nurses find their way around without getting lost. Five minutes later, they find themselves steps away from their destination. The clacking of Taeyong’s heeled shoes cease and they stop outside a door.

Taeyong cranes his neck to peek through the small window, confirming the occupant is indeed the person they are looking for.

“This is it,” Taeyong breathes. His shaking hand hovers over the doorknob.

Johnny wraps his arms around Taeyong’s waist from behind, hugging him close. He buries his face into Taeyong’s neck and he exhales shakily.

“Yes, this is it.”

Much like the weather, Donghyuck is nothing like Johnny had envisioned.

Being a first-time father and the only child in his extended family, his only experiences with young children stem from his outings in public places, like at the supermarket when he sees mothers strolling around with sleeping babies in prams or the occasional screaming toddler throwing a tantrum on the dusty floor of the sweets aisle.

“Oh Soyeon, he’s beautiful,” Taeyong gasps, bursting into tears at the sight of the newborn child tucked against the crook of his mother’s arm. Wrapping an arm around Taeyong’s shoulder, Johnny draws him closer.

Donghyuck, only a few hours old, looks nothing like the babies Johnny has seen in his life. He’s smaller than the month-old babies in prams and he looks so frail. The sight instils fear in Johnny, growing within his mind at the thought of bringing this delicate lifeform home.

Not long after Johnny and Taeyong enter Donghyuck and his mother’s room, Donghyuck’s little face scrunches up and he proceeds to wail. His body is swaddled in a soft mauve blanket but even then, Johnny is able to see that his whole body is red.

“Hey now, Donghyuck baby, it’s okay. We’ve got some really important visitors right now,” Soyeon, Donghyuck’s mother, coos in a baby voice. Then, she adds softly, “They love you just as much as mummy does.”

Like Johnny, Soyeon is a first-time parent too. But Soyeon is a natural. He opens his mouth to say something comforting to Donghyuck but the words escape him. Soyeon may be ten years younger than Johnny but she adopts the role as a mother with ease, more so than Johnny is finding it as Donghyuck’s new father.

So instead, he smiles and tucks a hand into Taeyong’s.

Soyeon had made the important decision of putting Donghyuck up for adoption four months into her pregnancy. At the brink of adulthood, Soyeon feels unready to be a mother. Towards the third trimester of her pregnancy, she stopped going to college, deferring her studies for after she has had a good rest following Donghyuck’s birth.

As much as Johnny loves Donghyuck and know that this love will continue to expand endlessly, increase exponentially, he thinks that it’s a shame Soyeon cannot raise Donghyuck herself. For a brief moment, he feels guilty again for taking Donghyuck away from her, but then he reminds himself that they have promised to remain in contact and to provide Soyeon with regular updates on Donghyuck as he grows.

Johnny distinctly remembers their first meeting. It was at a cafe and she was sipping on a warm mug of hot chocolate whilst both Johnny and Taeyong nursed a mug of coffee in their hands.

“Both the baby’s father and I have discussed this… I only found out about the baby after we broke up but…” Soyeon had divulged during their first meeting. “I think he deserves to go to a family who is ready to love him and care for him in ways that I am unable to give to him right now.”

Soyeon’s hair was drawn back in a high ponytail and she looked young, so young.

“We completely understand and respect your decision,” Taeyong assured warmly, reaching out to hold Soyeon’s hand across the table. “We’re also extremely grateful that you have so generously accepted our request to adopt him.” His eyes flitted sideways to meet Johnny’s for reassurance. “Johnny and I have been thinking of starting a family for a very long time but… we were hesitant.”

They had conversed for another hour until Soyeon’s mother called to inform Soyeon that she was parked around the corner.

As they walked towards the car, a surge of courage rose and Johnny turned to say to her, “I’m sure you’ll make a wonderful mother one day, Soyeon.”

He wasn’t sure how Soyeon would take it and had been hesitant to voice this opinion, as he did not want to accidentally rub salt into her open wound. But as the corners of Soyeon’s lips tugged upwards and the brightest smile he had ever seen her display spread across her face before him, he decided that it was definitely worth saying.

“I hope so too!” she chirped, tugging Johnny then Taeyong into tight hugs.

Her baby bump was just visible under her shirt and Johnny bounced on the balls of his feet as the car drove away.

Donghyuck’s wailing draws Johnny out of his thoughts.

As Johnny watches Soyeon continue to murmur at Donghyuck, thumbing at his cheeks to wipe his little tears away, he decides that he was right. Soyeon is going to be a wonderful mother when she’s much older, more emotionally and financially ready to have a family of her own with the right person.

At his mother’s voice, Donghyuck quietens and his cries die down.

It reminds Johnny of something he had read, in one of the many books Taeyong purchased after they confirmed that they will have a new addition to the family. According to the book, babies recognise their mother’s voice and may be more drawn to it than their father’s, as it is the voice they were exposed to the most while in the womb.

“Would you like to hold him?” Soyeon offers and Johnny’s chest tightens at the way more tears spill out of Taeyong’s eyes. He wants to kiss away every single one of them.

“Yes,” Johnny breathes, “That would be amazing—wonderful.”

The skies have cleared and sunlight slips past the patches of grey clouds and filters into the room through the wide window by Soyeon’s bed. It shines over Donghyuck’s face as Soyeon transfers him carefully into Johnny’s arms.

In his arms, Donghyuck is even smaller, even lighter, and even more beautiful than Johnny had ever imagined.

He gazes at the new, second love of his life. Donghyuck snuffles in his arms and falls asleep with a small beam of the sun shining over his little face. It is only when the warm tears drip onto his hand and onto Donghyuck’s blanket that Johnny realises that he is crying too.

He exhales shakily for what feels like the twentieth time that day.

“Welcome home, Donghyuck Lee*.”

II. Summer, 2000

Donghyuck wails the whole car ride home. He’s tucked in Taeyong’s arms, swaddled in a blanket again—baby blue today. A few days old now, Donghyuck’s face is no longer as red as it had been immediately after birth. But right now, it’s bright red again as he cries and cries and cries.

Johnny swallows hard, tapping his index finger continuously against the steering wheel.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Taeyong asks helplessly, his face distraught. He pats Donghyuck’s back soothingly, “Are you hungry?”

Donghyuck screams his lungs out as Johnny steps on the gas at the sight of the green light.

“But you ate half an hour ago at the hospital…” Taeyong mutters under his breath, “What could be wrong?”

Johnny sighs, “He’s a baby, Taeyong. He’s going to cry a lot.”

“God, Johnny, I know,” Taeyong snaps.

Taken aback by his own sharp tone, Taeyong apologises quietly, lowering his voice, “But they cry out of instinct and I just wish I could figure out why he’s crying so hard… Maybe he doesn’t like us? Maybe he knows we’re not his true parents…”

Johnny squeezes his thigh. “Don’t overthink it. We love him very much and I am positive he will feel it too.”

The crying continues half an hour later when they finally return to their apartment. It grates on Johnny’s nerves and he wishes desperately to be able to do something to relieve his son from discomfort.

“Maybe it’s time for a nappy change?” Johnny taps his chin thoughtfully.

Together, Taeyong and Johnny work to change Donghyuck out of his nappies. He flails and Johnny has to gently hold him in place as Taeyong cleans Donghyuck’s lower body with a baby wipe thoroughly.

Fortunately, the crying ceases not long after the nappy change and Donghyuck falls asleep, exhausted from the effort of crying. Johnny rests Donghyuck in his cot, taking care to tuck the new dolphin plush toy Jaehyun and Doyoung had gifted them just a week earlier, right before Donghyuck’s birth, against his son. The plushie appears much larger in comparison to his smaller body. He turns on the baby monitor and slips out of the bedroom.

Much like their son, Taeyong is knocked out on the couch. Johnny drapes a blanket over his husband and shuffles into the kitchen for a glass of water. It does wonders at soothing his parched throat and finally, the lump that has been sitting there disappears. He lounges on the armchair and reads a novel for a little over an hour before he gets up to make dinner.

Turning over the recipes in his mind, he searches for a simple dish that he can whip up quickly. He settles for spaghetti, pulling a packet of uncooked noodles out of the pantry and sets to work. Taeyong, usually a light sleeper, sleeps through the clanging of pots and the sizzling of the minced meat on the pan.

He had been up all night, waking Johnny with his intermittent tossing and turning. Initially, Johnny had thrown a comforting arm around his waist in an attempt to calm his nerves but it soon became clear that what Taeyong wanted, needed, was to be alone. So when Taeyong crawled out of bed to curl up on the couch, Johnny let him be. Although he knew that it wasn’t good to leave his husband to his worrying thoughts and allow him to mull over every small detail involved in picking up Donghyuck and caring for their newborn son, he figured that Taeyong needed some space to clear his mind.

His mind flits from thought to thought and he loses himself to the world of cooking. One particularly interesting thought surfaced in his mind, about his and Taeyong’s decision to install an induction cooktop, rather than a standard gas or electric stove. He’s suddenly filled with relief at the thought that when Donghyuck is older, they won’t have to worry about Donghyuck touching the flame or burning himself from touching the cooktop.

Donghyuck wakes just as Johnny is done with the cooking, rinsing the last of the pots and utensils he used. He’s crying again and Johnny doesn’t even need the baby monitor to be able to hear his cries from the bedroom. Taeyong lurches up from where he was lying on the couch, worry stamped all over his face.

“Donghyuck,” he scrambles to his feet and dashes to the bedroom, the blanket left behind in a heap by the couch.

Glancing at the clock, Johnny figures it’s about time for Donghyuck to wake up, as it is just shy of four hours since he had his last feed at the hospital. He reaches for the new tub of formula Taeyong had set out on the kitchen island last night. Carefully reading the instructions on the back again, he meticulously measures the appropriate amount of baby formula and spoons it into Donghyuck’s new bottle. He warms the bottle, testing the temperature against his wrist.

He brings the bottle to the couch, where Taeyong had wandered back with Donghyuck, tucked securely in his arms. Taeyong sighs loudly, eyebrows pinched together. Amidst Donghyuck’s loud cries, he hears Taeyong’s stomach growl.

Johnny squeezes his tense shoulders. “Hey, I’ve got this. I just cooked spaghetti, go have some before it gets cold.” He nods his head towards their dining table and Taeyong gazes to the food.

“But it’ll be cold when you come and eat…”

“Don’t worry,” he kisses Taeyong’s forehead, “I’ve already had some. Snuck a few mouthfuls as I cooked.”

Taeyong mulls over Johnny’s words. He sighs again, “Alright.”

With much care, he transfers Donghyuck to Johnny’s arms and rises to his feet, heading right for the food.

Johnny thumbs at Donghyuck’s cheek and instinctively, Donghyuck turns his head to open his mouth towards Johnny’s thumb, his cries dying down. His chest warms as Donghyuck suckles his thumb. He pulls out his thumb, quickly replacing it with the teat of the bottle.

As Donghyuck feeds, Johnny’s chest tightens and the love he has for his son doubles, triples, quadruples. He cannot wait to live the rest of his life with Donghyuck by his side, to care for him every day, to show him the ways of life, and to watch him grow into a fine young man.

It’s his first official day as Donghyuck’s dad and Johnny’s heart is already bursting with love. He truly cannot wait.

III. Spring, 2001

Johnny’s away at a major conference in London a week before Donghyuck’s birthday.

During his week away, he finds time to call Taeyong on the phone. The cost of international calls from his hotel phone is expensive, but his flights and accommodation for this conference trip are covered by the organisation that invited him to speak. He had been reluctant to accept the invitation to present, as the conference is so close to Donghyuck’s birthday.

“You have to go!” Taeyong had exclaimed from the kitchen, where he had been monitoring the steak sizzling on the pan when Johnny voiced his dilemma. “This is what you’ve dreamed of for years!”

“I know,” Johnny sighed, “But Donghyuck’s birthday…”

A lot of things have changed since Donghyuck became a part of the family, including Johnny’s goals and visions for the future. Presenting at a reputable conference to progress his career seems so insignificant in comparison to spending quality time with his son and watching him grow.

“You said it’s a week before Donghyuck’s birthday right?” Taeyong asked. He floated over and hovered behind him to read the email. “Look,” he pointed at the conference dates, “You’ll be back way before his birthday.”

Johnny had mulled over this for another week before he accepted the invitation.

Moments before he steps on the stage, a wave of anxiety suddenly washes over him. He has always been good at public speaking and actively participated in the debating team throughout his years of schooling. He has given a multitude of presentations and on a daily basis, stands in front large lecture rooms filled with college students. So it makes absolutely no sense when his hands and knees shake uncontrollably as he perches himself behind the podium.

Perhaps it’s the importance of this particular presentation. The large number of people seated in the room, the number of important people among the audience of five hundred people, and most importantly, how much this conference meant to his younger self.

Taeyong was right. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience that he has been gushing about since they started dating and to be here, finally, standing at the podium—it all seems so surreal. At the thought of Taeyong, his mind flickers to Donghyuck and how his son will grow up knowing his father had presented at such a highly respected international conference.

The surge of strength he gains pushes him safely through the presentation. In fact, he performs better than he anticipates.

Later, he’s back in his hotel room, recounting his experience at the conference when Taeyong drops the bomb.

“Johnny,” Taeyong calls.

Johnny falls silent. Taeyong only calls out for him in that tone of voice when he’s preparing to break the news.

“Yeah?” he breathes into the phone.

“You’re not going to like this, but…” he trails off and Johnny’s stomach lurches.

A multitude of worst-case scenarios flashes through his mind, from Taeyong getting hurt to Donghyuck getting hurt, then to his parents, his friends.

Taeyong sighs loudly, “It’s Donghyuck.”

He’s hit with a wave of nausea. He doesn’t know what he would do if Donghyuck is hurt. He would definitely book the first flight back home, regardless of how expensive last minute tickets cost.

“What is it?” Johnny asks, his voice steady but his hands begin to quiver.

“I know you’ll be really sad that you missed this, but Donghyuck—he took his first steps today,” Taeyong replies quietly. Then he raises his voice, each word lilted with pure excitement. “First independent ones! He only took two, or maybe three, small steps before he tipped forwards—I caught him of course—but he’s really learning to walk!” Taeyong exclaims.

The anxiety dissipates and Johnny feels himself shrivelling up inside, not unlike the raisins his mother always sends him in her monthly care packages, even though he doesn’t even like raisins.

“Oh my god Tae, that’s wonderful but—you nearly scared me to death,” Johnny gasps. “I really thought—“

He reaches for his bottle of water on the nightstand and takes generous gulps. Donghyuck had been furniture surfing during the months leading up to his trip, his small hands grasped tightly onto the edges of toddler-sized tables and chairs as he cruised around his playpen.

When his throat is no longer parched, he continues, “I thought something bad happened! I was so worried that Donghyuck had hurt himself.”

Taeyong apologises profusely but even after they have ended their call twenty minutes later, Johnny’s heart still thuds wildly at the thought of Taeyong or Donghyuck hurting, especially while he is away.

He lays in bed with only the lamps on and stares at the ceiling, trapped in deep thought. There are risks that he, as a human, will never be able to eliminate but it angers him. He knows it’s impossible, but he desperately wishes for a way for him to magically remove all the pain his loved ones have experienced or will experience in their lives.

With great difficulty, he finally falls asleep to his favourite memories, from meeting Taeyong to dating him to adopting Donghyuck.

The next morning, he contacts a representative from the organisation and requests for an earlier flight.

“I’m willing to cover any additional costs,” Johnny says, pen poised in his hand, ready to scribble notes from the conversation into his diary.

“Not a worry, Mr Suh. That will not be necessary. We will gladly cover the cost for you. Thank you once again for kindly accepting our invitation to present at our annual conference. Your presentation was incredibly informative and it was an honour for me to be part of the audience,” the representative replies kindly.

The next morning, Johnny finds himself at the airport, going home two days earlier than originally planned. He had phoned Doyoung and Jaehyun the night before and the couple had been awfully kind, offering to pick him up from the airport.

“I’ll be at work,” Doyoung said, “But Jaehyun has a month off before his next tour and will definitely be able to come to pick you up.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” Johnny said sincerely.

There was rustling from the other end of the phone, then Jaehyun piped up, “Don’t be silly, we’ve known each other for what? Ten years?”

Taeyong is taken aback when Johnny enters the house. He’s floating around with nothing but a pair of boxers, Donghyuck in his arms. Unlike his husband, Donghyuck is fully dressed in his pyjamas, a dummy tucked between his lips.

“Johnny?” Taeyong calls out in disbelief, “What are you doing home so early?”

Sheepishly, Johnny replies, “I missed you guys too much… I asked for an earlier flight and here I am.”

Taeyong sets Donghyuck down in his high chair and dashes over to envelope Johnny in a long hug.

“I missed you,” Taeyong murmurs into Johnny’s chest.

“I missed you too, Tae.” He drops his bag to the ground to embrace Taeyong, winding his arms around his slim waist. Leaning down, he buries his face into Taeyong’s neck and inhales deeply. “I missed you so, so much.”

Johnny sighs with relief at the sensation of Taeyong’s lips against his forehead. A few seconds later, he mumbles into Taeyong’s shoulder, “Why are you naked?”

“Donghyuck decided it was funny to include me in his bath time and I was about to get changed when you…” Taeyong trails off, gesturing behind Johnny at the front door.

They only pull away when Donghyuck’s dummy falls the ground with a loud clack. Donghyuck babbles loudly, a string of nonsense consonants and vowels spilling out of his mouth. Taeyong coos back at him, in a voice not unlike the one that Soyeon had used with Donghyuck the first time they met him at the hospital.

“It’s called motherese and fatherese,” Doyoung had informed once over dinner at Taeyong and Johnny’s place. “Or parentese, they all mean the same thing.”

Jaehyun was absent at the time, away on a short tour with his band so it was just Doyoung, Taeyong, Johnny, and Donghyuck, who was gnawing on a chunk on dragon fruit in his high chair.

“Why do parents talk like that?” Taeyong asked. He had been fussing over Donghyuck and only caught the tail end of the conversation. “What do I talk like that?” he mumbled to himself under his breath.

Donghyuck’s stout fingers were stained with the vibrant pink juice of the fruit. It was smeared across his cheeks too and Johnny thought it was absolutely adorable. He beamed proudly at his son. Taeyong sighed at the sight, presumably at the prospect of wrestling Donghyuck into an early bath after the adults finish dessert.

“It’s a very natural response for parents to speak to their babies with a sing-song intonation, higher pitch, and a slower speech rate,” Doyoung informed. “It’s rather effective in gaining and maintaining babies’ attention.”

Everything made so much more sense. At times like this, Johnny found it extremely useful to have a Paediatrician as a friend. It was always good to be able to verify with a professional about the information both he and Taeyong had been reading in parenting books.

Oddly though, Johnny had always found himself sounding rather awkward when trying to use ‘baby talk’ with Donghyuck, whereas Taeyong picked it up right off the bat.

“That’s interesting,” Johnny commented, “I’ve always wondered why parents, especially mothers, naturally adopt that baby voice at the sight of children.”

“Not to say your son’s a dog, but I think a lot of people use that tone of voice with dogs too,” Doyoung mused.

Donghyuck hurled his piece of dragon fruit and halted the conversation then. With incredible aim, the piece splattered against Doyoung’s cheek. Doyoung reeled back, stunned.

“You little monster!” Doyoung exclaimed, leaning closer to tickle Donghyuck, who gurgles loudly. “Oh, you’re growing so fast!” he said fondly, “I can’t wait till I get to take you out and just feed you all sort of fun facts about life.”

Taeyong shifts to pick up Donghyuck’s fallen dummy. It draws Johnny out of his thoughts and he watches as Donghyuck is set down on the ground, facing Johnny.

“Hyuckie?” Johnny calls, squatting down. “Hello, sunshine, did you miss me?”

Donghyuck crawls half a metre before he climbs to his feet with Taeyong’s aid.

Then, Taeyong lets go.

Johnny’s heart nearly thuds out of his chest. As he prepares to rush forward and catch Donghyuck, his son steps towards him. He babbles loudly, his voice excited as he makes eye contact with Johnny.

Taeyong hovers behind him and sure enough, after three unsteady steps, Donghyuck flops forward. Before he touches the ground, Taeyong catches him from behind.

Johnny rushes forward to scoop Donghyuck out of Taeyong’s arms. Donghyuck squeals loudly when Johnny hugs him close, tickling his sides.

“Oh, Donghyuck,” Johnny gasps, “You’re doing so well.”

He blinks back tears of joy. Like Doyoung had said over dinner last month, Donghyuck really is growing so fast. His chest is bursting with pride and he wishes he could imprint every single one of these moments on his mind, to carve them permanently into his store of memories so that he won’t forget them as Donghyuck grows older.

IV. Winter, 2002 & Spring, 2003

“Donghyuck darling, we have to go now,” Johnny calls, tucking away Donghyuck’s water bottle in the tote bag hanging from the pram.

There’s still at least another hour until sunset but the cold is creeping in at a rapid rate. Donghyuck, bundled up in several layers, shuffles away. He moves at an impressive pace towards the slides.

Johnny unlocks the pram breaks to trail after him. Now that Donghyuck is mobile and relatively steady on his feet, it’s a pain to keep an eye on him at all times when they let him out of the pram. The squeaky shoes definitely help to track him though.

“Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck turns to his name, pausing mid-crawl up the bottom of the slides. He blinks back innocently but Johnny knows better than to fall for this. They need to be back home soon.

Johnny gestures to the pram, “Time to go home Bubba.”

“Go,” Donghyuck echoes.

“Time to go. Daddy will be waiting for you and we don’t want to keep him waiting.”

Unfamiliar with the motion of flipping his body over to slide down on his back, Donghyuck attempts a weird backwards shuffle down the slide. Johnny plucks him off the slide but Donghyuck refuses to sit in the pram.

“You want to walk?” Johnny raises his eyebrows, setting him down on his feet. “Seriously?”

Although the park is a short walk from home, their travel time will double if Donghyuck insists on walking. Donghyuck toddles alongside the pram, one hand clinging on the side of the pram tightly, his shoes squeaking loudly with every step he takes.

Before they make it to the first zebra crossing, Donghyuck whines and fists at Johnny’s pants, demanding to be picked up.

“Hey, it would’ve been easier if you had just sat in the pram in the first place.”

Donghyuck whines in response, burying his face into Johnny’s leg. Johnny sighs in defeat. He hoists Donghyuck up and tucks him against one side, using his one arm to push the pram.

As they approach home, Johnny spots Taeyong’s car parked in front of their house. They’re greeted with the pungent aroma of curry and a bright smile on Taeyong’s face.

Donghyuck babbles loudly, squirming out of Johnny’s hold to reach out for Taeyong.

“Baby,” Taeyong coos, drying his hands with his apron before holding Donghyuck. “Did you play in the sandpit today? You’ve got sand everywhere.” He rubs Donghyuck’s cheek with his thumb, removing the smudge of dirt.

Johnny peeks around the kitchen, his stomach grumbling at the sight of Japanese curry on the stove.

“Dinner’s not ready yet,” Taeyong says, reaching past Johnny to turn down the stove. “There’s plenty of time for someone to have a bath,” he adds, raising an eyebrow.

Johnny leans in to peck Taeyong on the lips, “Bath time it is.”

Donghyuck reaches out a grimy hand and bats Johnny on the head, babbling gleefully.

“Do you want a kiss too?” Johnny laughs, pecking Donghyuck’s cheek. Donghyuck squeals and wipes his hand against Johnny’s face. “Ugh, did he just smear dirt on me?”

Taeyong laughs, transferring Donghyuck back in his arms.

Bath time is, as usual, messy. Donghyuck invites an extensive number of toys into the bathtub: a small boat, an array of wind-up fish, plastic seashells, and some silicone sea animals. Donghyuck’s loud splashes cause constant disturbance to the water, small waves pushing the floating toys around the bathtub. Some float in Johnny’s way as he tries to scrub Donghyuck’s arms clean.

The floor is wet, on the brink of a small flood, by the time Johnny is done bathing him. Before Johnny can towel him dry, Donghyuck squirms out of his grasp and bolts out of the bathroom, leaving behind a trail of wet footprints.

“Donghyuck, it’s cold, you’ll get sick!” Johnny groans, rushing after him with a towel.

By the time Taeyong serves dinner, Johnny manages to dress Donghyuck and settle him in his high chair at the dinner table.

“I saw Yuta today,” Taeyong comments, scooping a small amount of rice into Donghyuck’s bowl. “We had lunch together.”

Johnny hums around a mouthful of curry.

Yuta and Taeyong met at an International conference, where they both worked as a translator for Japanese and Korean businessmen respectively. Although it has only been nine months since they first met, Yuta has found his way into their family routine.

“We were talking to Ten, one of our coworkers from our overseas branch—he’s visiting Canada for a month. He was saying how he will miss his anniversary with his partner and then we somehow got talking about our anniversary that’s coming up.”

“Our anniversary? That’s like,” Johnny pauses to think, “Two and a half… No, three months away though.”

“Three months isn’t very long, it’ll come around much quicker than you think.”

Taeyong suppresses a yawn, blinking several times to clear his vision. Work has been busier for both of them, more hectic for Taeyong and they are in need of a restful break.

“Anyways, Yuta offered to babysit Donghyuck and I said yes because I think it’ll be nice if we can spend the night out and just have some alone time.”

The idea of leaving Donghyuck at home sits uncomfortably in his stomach, but he hopes that with time, it’ll be easier to digest. Donghyuck has grown to be quite comfortable around Yuta, so Johnny doesn’t foresee any difficulties leaving them at home together for the evening.

“We’ll talk about it much closer to the date,” Johnny suggests, “Let’s call it a night for now. You need some rest.”

“Good thing it’s a Saturday tomorrow,” Taeyong smiles, “Looking forward to sleeping in.”

Three nights later, Johnny wakes in the middle of the night, disoriented and busting to go to the toilet. In a sleepy haze, he manages to find his way to the bathroom and relieve himself. On his way back to bed, he makes a routine detour to Donghyuck’s room.

Donghyuck had kicked his blankets off the bed at some point in the night and is laying on his back with his limbs sprawled out like a small starfish. Johnny picks up the blanket and drapes it over Donghyuck’s sleeping form. As Johnny shifts Donghyuck further up his bed, he realises how warm, almost hot, Donghyuck feels.

He checks Donghyuck’s temperature with an ear thermometer and sure enough, the screen blinks back the temperature, confirming that Donghyuck has a fever. He feeds some medicine to Donghyuck through a small syringe. Donghyuck wakes and whines loudly, though fortunately, he doesn’t spit it out like he usually does.

It’s the second fever he’s had this winter but the medication worked wonders last time so Johnny’s not too concerned. Wide awake and unable to fall asleep again, Johnny brings a book into Donghyuck’s room and curls up with his back against the wall and reads under the light of the small lamp by Donghyuck’s bedside.

An hour or two later, the door to Donghyuck’s room creaks open and a drowsy Taeyong ducks his head into the room.

“John?” he calls sleepily, “Why aren’t you in bed?”

Johnny blinks back, his eyes painfully dry. Through the gaps of the curtain, a sliver of the orange and yellow hues of the rising sun slips into Donghyuck’s room.

Tucking one of Donghyuck’s toys, a stray one that had been laying around on the floor, in between his book, he climbs to his feet to draw Taeyong closer.

“Donghyuck has a fever,” Johnny explains, tucking Taeyong against his side. He pecks his cheek softly.

“Fever again?” Taeyong sighs, wriggling his way out of Johnny’s arms to check Donghyuck’s temperature, first with his hand against his forehead, then with the thermometer.

Johnny stifles an incoming yawn. “His temperature hasn’t gone down since I gave him Panadol.”

“Go back to bed, I’ll watch over him.”

“No, but you’ve got work, you’ll be tired,” Johnny protests.

Taeyong frowns deeply, “So do you. You’ve got work too.”

“Not anymore, I’m going to call in sick. Besides, Donghyuck can’t go into daycare in this condition anyway. Everyone there will get sick too.”

They bicker some more but it’s no use. Taeyong has set his mind to take over his watch and Johnny finds himself being ushered out of their son’s room. At first, Johnny thinks that he will have trouble sleeping again, his mind ladened with thoughts of Donghyuck. But the moment his head touches the pillow, he dozes off quickly.

He wakes again to Donghyuck’s wailing and Taeyong’s hushed voice. It feels an awful lot like he had just shut his eyes, but the alarm clock on the bedside table indicates that it has been three, almost four hours since he had gone back to bed. Taeyong’s an hour late to work.

“Come back here, darling. You need to take your medicine. It will help, I promise.”

His husband’s urgent voice filters through the bedroom door. There’s some loud shuffling in Donghyuck’s room next door, then loud thumping of Donghyuck’s feet against the wooden floorboards in the hallway.

“Oh Bubba, I know it hurts. I know you’re in pain. But you need to take your medicine.”

Johnny slips out of bed to find Donghyuck sprawled on the ground just outside his door, screaming, his tears pooling into a tiny puddle on the floor.

“Oh, you’re up,” Taeyong sighs in relief, “I was just about to wake you. I need to leave for work.”

Johnny nods, “How’s he holding up?”

“Not good. I think his ears hurt,” Taeyong sighs again, helpless this time. He squats to pat the back of Donghyuck’s head and his back. “He keeps shaking his head and touching his ears.”

Johnny has two options. The first one involves calming Donghyuck or waiting until he calms down, then taking him to the doctor later in the day. The other option is to take him now, regardless of whether or not Donghyuck stops screaming. The prospect of Donghyuck crying his whole way to the doctor’s and during his appointment is unappealing, but at least he will be seen by someone earlier. Either way, Johnny’s got an inkling that he will need multiple coffees to get himself through this day.

Unable to make a decision, he consults Taeyong, who mulls over it for a good few minutes as well.

“I hate to say this but take him now. Whatever is happening in his ear is hurting him and I would rather the doctor give him something to soothe it.”

So Johnny wrestles a crying and screaming toddler into the car and desperately tries to think about anything but the incoming headache heading his way.

The ear infection that accompanies Donghyuck’s fever persists longer than Johnny had thought ear infections could ever last.

In fact, it extends over two months, nearing three. Donghyuck was initially in an immense amount of pain and the first month had been filled with sleepless nights for the whole family. It eased up significantly during the second month, but it started to affect Donghyuck’s hearing.

Johnny first noticed it during a grocery shopping trip, after Donghyuck had wandered off and did not respond to his name, despite Johnny calling out for him several times at a close distance. Not long after, Taeyong also raised concerns about Donghyuck’s recent lack of response, following several occasions where Donghyuck didn’t notice or respond when Taeyong approached him from out of sight.

Johnny takes a day off work and takes Donghyuck to see the doctor again to follow up on some hearing test results. Taeyong had taken Donghyuck to an audiologist two days ago.

“His eardrum is still red and swollen. There’s fluid stuck behind his eardrum, in what we call the ‘middle ear’ and that would definitely affect his hearing,” the doctor explains after taking a look at Donghyuck’s ears through the otoscope and flicking through the results from Donghyuck’s hearing test.

He turns back to his computer and types furiously for a minute or so. Then he riffles around his desk drawer and pulls out a printed handout from a worn folder.

“This type of ear infection is commonly called ‘glue ear’ in non-medical terms,” the doctor continues, turning the handout towards Johnny. “I’d imagine his hearing right now would be similar to being underwater—everything sounds a bit muffled.”

“Is it permanent?” Johnny frowns deeply. “The hearing loss, I mean.”

Donghyuck dozes off in Johnny’s lap, burrowing his cheek against Johnny’s chest.

The doctor scratches his chin, scanning through the handout, then scribbles an asterisk beside the section titled ‘How will this affect your child’s hearing?’.

“It’s generally temporary and goes away once the fluids are cleared out his ears. But if the ear infections occur over and over again, there is a chance that some important structures in the ear can become damaged.”

The doctor also recommended ‘grommets’, which are very small tubes that get inserted into the eardrum to drain the fluids trapped in Donghyuck’s middle ear, behind his eardrum.

“Wouldn’t it be painful putting that stuff in his ear?” Taeyong exclaims, his face contorting with horror when Johnny updates him about Donghyuck’s appointment and this particular recommendation before they head to bed.

“That’s what I thought at first,” Johnny slips under the blanket, pulling it all the way up to his chin. “But I asked the doctor and he said that because they’re really small—like, smaller than a match head—so it won’t hurt… It doesn’t take long to put in and they will fall out by themselves, after a few months.”

Grimacing, Taeyong mutters, “I don’t like the sound of it.”

Johnny nods solemnly in silent agreement. He doesn’t like it either, but if it’s the most effective way to help Donghyuck regain his hearing, they will have to stick with it.

Johnny and Taeyong’s anniversary rolls around much faster than they anticipate. Just as Taeyong had predicted, three months slip through their fingers and passes quickly, especially with all the medical appointments they had for Donghyuck’s ear infection. Johnny has been looking forward to this night for weeks and he honestly cannot wait to spend a restful evening with Taeyong.

Yuta arrives at their house just after sunset, during Donghyuck’s bath time. Donghyuck’s loud splashes almost drown out the doorbell, the sound very faint amidst the ruckus. Johnny almost misses it.

“I’ve got it,” Taeyong calls from the hallway.

Johnny makes a sound of acknowledgement and continues to rinse the baby shampoo out of Donghyuck’s hair. Anticipation sings in Johnny’s blood as the reality sinks in. Their night off—it is finally happening.

He hears muffled voices in the background as Taeyong debriefs Yuta for babysitting duties, Yuta’s cheery voice easily distinguishable from Taeyong’s softer, gentler voice. Johnny catches more of their conversation once Donghyuck is out of the bathtub.

“How’s… Are his ears alright?” Yuta asks curiously.

“It’s alright…” The loud crinkling of a plastic bag someone is fiddling with outside muffles Taeyong’s words. “He got grommets recently… he had to have a small surgery... “

“Oh, poor thing. He must be over it by now.”

Johnny strains to hear more but Taeyong and Yuta shift further away until their voices fade away. He pats Donghyuck dry with a fluffy towel and dresses him for bed.

Yuta greets both Johnny and Donghyuck with warm hugs. From his bag, Yuta carefully pulls out a container filled with home-made biscuits.

“These are for you Donghyuck!” Yuta exclaims. He squats down to Donghyuck’s height, prying open the box to show him the contents.

Inside the box sits a dozen rectangular prism-shaped chocolate-coated biscuits. They resemble the appearance of little cars with M&Ms on the sides like colourful wheels. Stuck to the top of each biscuit is the upper half of the body of tiny teddy biscuits, creating an illusion that the teddy is driving the car.

Donghyuck hovers over the box curiously.

He squeals loudly, absolutely ecstatic, and shouts “Teddy!” He plucks a biscuit out of the box and does a happy dance with it in his hand, stamping his feet noisily.

“Oh Yuta, thank you so much for this,” Taeyong says sincerely, “And for offering to babysit him tonight.”

This is probably their first proper night off since Donghyuck became a part of the family. They’ve been extremely lucky over the past two and a half years. Somehow they have gotten this far, even with Donghyuck’s recent ear infection, without being tangled in a situation where neither of them could take care of Donghyuck. With both Johnny and Taeyong’s families permanently residing overseas, no other family member would be available to care for Donghyuck.

“It’s no problem at all,” Yuta beams, “I love playing with him. He reminds me a lot of my little niece. I mean, she’s probably not so little now, but it’s nice to take a break from work to play with children.”

As much as Johnny loves Donghyuck, he wishes that caring for his son feels like a break from work. Caring for a toddler is a full-time job, often draining him more than teaching students and marking papers.

“He sleeps by seven to seven-thirty so you should have a relatively quiet night, especially if you play with him for a bit. It’ll tire him out and he’ll sleep soundly,” Taeyong explains, slipping on his coat.

They leave the house by six. Donghyuck kisses them both goodbye without a fuss like Johnny predicted, even pushing Taeyong out of the door to have Yuta to himself.

Yuta cackles, ruffling Donghyuck’s hair fondly, “He loves me more than the two of you combined already.”

“He only loves you this much because of the teddy biscuits,” Taeyong sniffs indignantly.

Taeyong offers to drive for the night and Johnny accepts it gratefully.

He hates to admit it, even to himself, but the thought that Donghyuck is away from both of them, even for a short while, still makes his stomach churn. The feelings wash over him, wave after wave and Johnny succumbs, allowing it to carry him through an endless loop of worrying thoughts. At some point, he begins to chant repeatedly in his mind, “It’s okay, Donghyuck will be okay.”

Taeyong’s warm hand on his nape breaks him out of his trance. Surveying his surroundings, he realises belatedly that Taeyong had stopped at a red light.

“Don’t worry, Yuta’s really good with kids, you’ve seen how much Donghyuck adores him,” Taeyong reassures warmly. “They’ll be fine. Besides, Donghyuck will be asleep for most of the time. Yuta will call if something happens and we’ll be back in no time.”

“How did you know?” Johnny blurts out.

It’s a dumb question. Of course, Taeyong knows. They’ve been together for so long that Johnny can predict Taeyong’s thoughts or reactions to certain situations at times. Taeyong can probably do the same.

Taeyong replies honestly anyway, “You were fidgeting a lot.” His lips quirk upwards.

Tucking his hands in his lap, Johnny resists the urge to kiss them.

“And because I’m nervous too,” Taeyong adds. The light turns green and Taeyong draws his hand back, redirecting his attention to the road once more.

He feels a bit embarrassed by how worried he has been about leaving Donghyuck at home. Maybe it’s a first-time parenting thing that other people experience too, so he shouldn’t be so harsh on himself.

He’s grateful for Taeyong though. He’s glad that Taeyong is the one experiencing this with him. Knowing that he is not alone in this and being able to openly talking about this—their challenges and concerns—brings him relief of some sort. An odd sense of calmness and comfort blankets his mind for the rest of the drive, though he still has to consciously remind himself not to fidget too much so that Taeyong can concentrate on driving.

They had discussed their plans for tonight extensively. Yuta recommended a nice Italian restaurant twenty minutes drive away. Jaehyun recommended them to go on an overnight trip and even went to the lengths of offering to plan their trip for them.

“You can go stargazing! I know the perfect place. Just imagine, laying down on a picnic mat and enjoying your evening with the view of the universe before your eyes,” Jaehyun said dreamily. The way Johnny’s best friend’s eyes sparkled was almost amusing. After all, this wasn’t even his anniversary. It was Johnny and Taeyong’s special night and there were countless ways that they could spend it together.

After weeks of contemplation, they had settled the plans in bed on a Sunday morning. Taeyong had a restless night, the anniversary occupying his mind, even when he was asleep.

“Didn’t sleep well?” Johnny whispered, nosing at the base of Taeyong’s neck. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes.

With a troubled sigh, Taeyong murmured his concerns to him.

They were going to follow Jaehyun’s suggestion but Taeyong became conflicted by the overwhelming number of other suggestions his colleagues made. Although they had good intentions, Taeyong felt pressured to spend their anniversary in a certain way for it to be memorable.

He tucked his chin on Taeyong’s shoulder. “It’s not about having a perfect night, or spending it the way other people think is the right way to spend our night off. It’s our night, just you and me. I just want you to relax and be happy.” They spent the next ten minutes or so in silence, soaking in each other’s presence.

“Let’s play it by ear,” Johnny announced eventually. “We’ll drive around and do whatever we feel like that night.”

Not planning didn’t exactly sit well with Taeyong, but Johnny had a feeling that he was sick of planning and thinking about the night. So he agreed.

As they circle the area for a reputable restaurant, Taeyong has a sudden craving for fried chicken, so they turn the car around for their local KFC. Seeing as the store is packed to the brim with families, they order through the drive-through with plans to eat elsewhere. But the cold wind picks up, swishing noisily and rustling trees, making it unbearable to sit outside.

In the end, they eat in the car over long conversations. As Johnny wipes his greasy fingers with the store napkin and tucks away the bare chicken bones in the paper bag for throwing away, he remembers how he used to eat late night meals with Taeyong. This was not long after they first met, during Johnny’s year in Korea as an exchange student. They reminisce about old times and Taeyong reflects on his favourite memories in the past year. They also muse about the future, discussing places they should take Donghyuck one day and plans for the family in the next few years.

Johnny recalls mid-conversation about how a book he had read a few years back has recently been adapted into a film. They drive out to the cinemas, arriving right as the movie starts.

They arrive home at ten past ten to find Yuta curled up on the couch, snoring loudly with the television playing in the background at a low volume. Yuta’s flustered when Taeyong shakes him awake and he apologises profusely for accidentally falling asleep.

“Everything is alright. Donghyuck is still sleeping soundly in his bed so stop saying sorry. It happens to us all the time,” Taeyong reassures him. “Now, will you be alright driving home or do you need a lift?”

“I’ll be fine,” Yuta nods. The tips of his ears are still red. “It’s a short drive.”

Johnny sees him off in their driveway and heads to bed after a nice, warm shower with Taeyong.

Their date night is nothing like what Taeyong had expected or envisioned, but it’s nice. Simple and relaxing. Having Taeyong all to himself is more than Johnny could ever ask for.

V. Summer, 2003

“Something’s not right,” Taeyong declares out of the blue. It’s Saturday morning and they are preparing to leave the house.

From where he is kneeling on the living room floor, Johnny glances towards Taeyong who is pacing in the kitchen. Donghyuck is in front of him, perched on the edge of the couch, his legs dangling freely. It takes a moment for Johnny to register Taeyong’s words.

Before he can respond, Taeyong appears in view, hovering behind Donghyuck with his arms crossed.

Taeyong’s eyebrows are pinched in frustration when he repeats himself, “Something’s not right.”

“What is it?” Johnny probes gently.

Johnny grasps Donghyuck by his ankles, narrowly avoiding a kick to his head. He sets to work quickly, slipping on a new pair of socks before Donghyuck kicks again. It’s been a challenge keeping Donghyuck’s shoes on. He’s been going through a phase where he doesn’t want to wear shoes, sometimes refusing to even have socks on. He either has a tantrum when they try to put on his shoes or he kicks them off the first chance he gets.

Much to his surprise, Donghyuck is calm today, observing intently as Johnny slips on his shoes. They’re blue in colour with Thomas the Tank Engine printed on the velcro straps and along the sides of the shoes.

“Donghyuck is three now and he’s not really talking that much,” Taeyong elaborates. “He should be talking a lot more by now like the other kids at daycare.”

Two months ago, Taeyong started a new job that facilitates work from home two times a week, so Donghyuck's daycare days have been reduced, from five to three days per week. Donghyuck babbles gleefully as Johnny picks him up and sets him down on the floor again.

It is true that Donghyuck isn’t as chatty as other kids his age, especially compared to little Renjun who lives down the street and comments on anything and everything during their weekend play dates at the park.

Taeyong continues, “He’s not using his words when he wants something. His daycare teachers have mentioned that there’s been an awful lot of miscommunication between him and his peers and it has resulted in a lot of meltdowns.”

“Maybe he’s just a bit slow at learning to talk,” Johnny suggests thoughtfully, “Maybe he just needs time.”

Johnny pats down his shorts and riffles through the pockets to find the car keys. He wanders around the living room, eyes searching.

“But where do we draw the line and say that he’s actually behind his peers and needs help?”

Donghyuck trails after him, fisting the edge of his shirt. Johnny fumbles around the foyer.

“They’re here,” Taeyong supplies helpfully, pointing towards the dining table. “You left them on the bathroom floor last night after work.”

“Oh, did I?” Johnny scratches the back of his head. It’s summer break for the college students but Johnny still has work until the end of next week. He blames the influx of ideas from the research paper he’s writing with his colleagues for his forgetfulness as of late.

Later, when they’re on the road to meet Doyoung and Jaehyun for lunch, Johnny finally replies to Taeyong’s earlier comment. “Let’s talk to Doyoung about it. He’ll know if Donghyuck is behind or not.”

Taeyong sighs and tightens his grasp around the steering wheel.

Johnny doesn’t miss the way Taeyong’s eyes flicker to the rearview mirror to check on Donghyuck, strapped securely in his baby seat.

Jaehyun finds it absolutely hilarious that Donghyuck has somehow managed to lose both his shoes by the time they arrive at Doyoung and Jaehyun’s house. Taeyong snaps at him to not encourage Donghyuck to continue this behaviour but Jaehyun just guffaws.

They have a spare pair of shoes prepared in advance for an occasion like this but Taeyong refuses to give in. Johnny helps to stir the kimchi stew on the stove whilst Jaehyun watches Taeyong through the window as he searches the back of the car diligently for the missing shoes. The sweet aroma of Korean food is comforting and he catches himself missing his mother. She recently moved back to Korea to take care of his grandmother.

Doyoung fishes for a spoon from the drying rack and spoons a mouthful of the stew. “Tastes good,” he hums.

He passes Johnny the spoon and he sips some too. The weather’s probably too hot for a stew but it tastes of home.

Doyoung was the one who initiated this tradition of meeting every few months to have a small feast. “We have to reconnect with our culture, our roots,” Doyoung had rationalised proudly. “We will have home-cooked Korean food only!”

Within their small friendship circle, they’ve all lived in Korea at some point in their lives.

Johnny was born in the States but he moved to Korea for a year after high school to reconnect with his parents’ homeland. He returned a few years later for an exchange program, through which he had met Taeyong. Hansol was the only one born in Canada, but he moved to Korea permanently to be with his partner last year.

Both Jaehyun and Doyoung were born in Korea but moved at a young age; Doyoung moved to Canada at eight and Jaehyun to the States slightly later, at twelve. Taeyong is the only one who has lived in Korea for more than half of his life, only moving to Canada after college to work as a Korean-English translator and to be with Johnny.

It’s a nice way to uphold their culture and although Taeyong doesn’t voice it, Johnny knows that he appreciates this tradition the most because he misses home more often than he lets on. He loves the idea of teaching Donghyuck about Korean culture too. After all, Donghyuck’s mother is Korean as well. The Korean community in their area is very small but growing, and Johnny hopes that Donghyuck will grow up with at least one friend who shares the same cultural and ethnic background as him.

There’s a loud squeal from the garden, followed by Doyoung’s panicked shout as he drops the spatula in hand and bolts outside. Johnny and Jaehyun shuffle away from the stove to peek at the commotion. Donghyuck had fallen into Doyoung’s vegetable garden and has found entertainment in digging his small hands into the dirt, uprooting Doyoung’s precious vegetables.

Doyoung picks Donghyuck up gingerly and surveys his garden with a frown. Donghyuck squirms and attempts to escape Doyoung’s hold, shouting a word repeatedly. There are missing sounds in Donghyuck’s words, making it difficult to decipher. Johnny listens hard for a moment and belatedly realises that Donghyuck is saying what sounds like an approximation of ‘tomato’. Sure enough, Doyoung has tomatoes in his vegetable garden.

“Hey, hey little man. No more tomatoes,” Doyoung says firmly after he too deciphers what Donghyuck is saying. “No more garden time. Digging is finished now.”

As Doyoung carries him back to the house, Donghyuck unleashes a high-pitched scream. He flails, protesting madly with prolonged screams of “No!”.

Unclenching his fist, Donghyuck releases the handful of dirt he was holding onto. Johnny watches helplessly as the dirt rains down and litters the wooden floorboards in the living room.

“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry,” Johnny mutters to Jaehyun under his breath, who merely waves him off.

Taeyong leaves his place at the dining table where he was setting up for lunch to console Donghyuck. Doyoung doesn’t hesitate to pass Donghyuck back to him. At times like this, Johnny wonders if Donghyuck has tantrums because Taeyong coddles him too much.

From the corner of the room, Doyoung pulls out a plastic storage box which houses incomplete sets of train tracks and Duplo blocks. The toys keep Donghyuck busy and out of trouble until lunch is ready when another unanticipated moment of crying occurs because Donghyuck refuses to leave the toys.

Johnny’s had enough of screaming and crying for the day so he takes over and wrestles Donghyuck into his lap and makes him sit at the table. Fixated on settling Donghyuck and feeding him (because he also refuses to eat by himself), Johnny almost misses the conversation across the table between Doyoung and Taeyong.

“... does seem like he only talks in single words only. I mean, he just turned three but kids his age usually have started putting two to three words together regularly,” Doyoung informs, his tone of voice a lot gentler than the one he usually uses with Taeyong.

“Maybe you should take him to see a speech-language therapist,” Jaehyun speaks up from beside Johnny at the head of the table, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

Johnny blows on a spoonful of stew. He spoons it into Donghyuck’s mouth carefully, feeling a slight resistance when Donghyuck sucks hard, latching onto the spoon. Gently, he tugs the spoon out and dips it back into the stew. He turns back to see Doyoung nodding his head furiously in agreement.

Doyoung swallows his mouthful of rice, “Oh yes, I was just about to recommend that.”

“A what?” Taeyong frowns, setting down his chopsticks.

“A speech therapist,” Doyoung repeats clearly.

Johnny sets down his utensils too. The direction of this conversation wakes the butterflies residing in his stomach and he desperately pleads for the discomfort to cease.

Taeyong nibbles on his bottom lip and asks hesitantly, “And what do they do?”

“They specialise in communication disorders. If Donghyuck’s a bit slow with his talking development, it might be good to go see one. They’ll know more than I do about children’s language development,” Doyoung informs.

“You think so?” Taeyong picks up his spoon and pushes his food around on his plate, piling them in one corner.

Wriggling and kicking in Johnny’s lap, Donghyuck reaches for the spoon and grasps it in a fist. Johnny plucks it from his hand to scoop more food. He presses the tip of the spoon to Donghyuck’s lips but he finds them clamped shut.

“No more?” Johnny asks gently.

Donghyuck doesn’t reply and instead, he rounds his lips to blow on the food. His small forehead pinches in concentration. It’s the most adorable sight.

“Ahh,” Johnny prompts, encouraging Donghyuck to open his mouth.

This time, Donghyuck leans closer to Johnny’s chest and rests a small hand against Johnny’s face. “Dada,” he coos. He looks at the spoon, then back at Johnny. His fingers stroke Johnny’s cheek gently before it shifts to graze his mouth.

“Dad’s turn to eat?”

Donghyuck nods his head enthusiastically and Johnny’s chest warms. Donghyuck can be so sweet, so thoughtful sometimes.

“Thank you Bubba,” he says, pecking Donghyuck’s cheek.

His stomach lurches as he tunes into Doyoung and Taeyong’s discussion about Donghyuck’s language development again. Taeyong’s voice is laced with concern and uncertainty and Doyoung reassures him, over and over.

“Tae it’s not a big deal. It’s just like a health check-up with a Paediatrician, there’s nothing to worry about. They might be able to give you and Johnny strategies to help Hyuckie get his talking going.”

It’s in Donghyuck’s best interest for him to be seen by someone about his talking and naturally, Johnny wants what’s best for him. There’s really no harm in taking Donghyuck to see a health professional and Johnny knows that.

But it doesn’t stop the onslaught of dread that floods his system.

The very thought of Donghyuck having any health or growth complications that might impede him from having a happy, carefree childhood used to frighten Johnny. He had managed to shift away from those thoughts, but lately, they have resurfaced after Donghyuck’s bad ear infection.

Maybe it’s a first-time parent thing to be overly cautious and fearful, but these thoughts… They just don’t sit well with him.

For days, he replays the conversation with Doyoung and the irrational thoughts niggle at the back of his mind. He finally succumbs and speaks to Taeyong about it one evening, when they’re tucked in bed and laying side by side.

“This is stupid. These thoughts are just stupid,” Johnny concludes after opening his mind. He clasps his hands together and rests them on his stomach, frowning hard at the ceiling.

“It’s not stupid,” Taeyong pushes himself up. He turns to study Johnny’s face, a gentle expression on his face reserved for Donghyuck and the neighbours’ pets. “You think and feel this way because you want Donghyuck to be happy. You want him to have the best childhood he can have but we’re only human, love.”

They remain silent for a moment, the words sinking into Johnny, one by one.

“It’s tough but you need to accept that you cannot shield Donghyuck from all the bad and the unpredictable in this world. He will grow up to be a strong person just like you and one day, he will learn deal with any hardships that come his way bravely,” Taeyong adds firmly.

Johnny exhales shakily, “I’m scared.”

“Oh, Johnny,” Taeyong sighs. Then, he admits quietly, “I’m scared too.” He lays back down, rolling over to tuck himself against Johnny’s side. “But I think Donghyuck’s in good hands and he will be alright. Everything will be alright.”

They fall asleep like that, bodies pressed against each other and Johnny’s mind calming with every soothing circle Taeyong’s warm thumb rubs against the back of his clasped hands.

They’re running late. It’s not an uncommon occurrence lately, with Donghyuck being extra fussy and difficult to usher out of the house whenever they have a schedule to stick to.

But this morning started with Donghyuck’s grommets falling out. Neither Taeyong nor Johnny were surprised because the doctor had said that it would fall out naturally between six to twelve months as Donghyuck’s eardrums heal. Donghyuck was so fascinated by the small rubber rings that he refused to get dressed. He played with them all through breakfast and Taeyong spent a good ten minutes trying to remove them from his hands so that he could finish his food.

Thankfully, the traffic isn’t too bad but it does leave Johnny in an irritable mood for the whole drive. Taeyong sighs in relief when they finally pull into the parking lot, thirty minutes later than they had agreed on.

Jaehyun had invited them out for a catch-up. His band is planning to release an album at the end of Autumn so he will be flying out of the country to record their new album. It will be a good few months before Jaehyun will be back. But Jaehyun’s invitation was given at such a short notice and Taeyong had already made plans with Yuta to take Donghyuck to the aquarium. Eventually, they worked something out: Jaehyun and Doyoung offered to come along to the aquarium trip and Yuta was more than happy to meet Johnny’s best friends.

To Taeyong’s relief, Doyoung and Yuta are engaged in a pleasant conversation when they arrive at the aquarium’s entrance.

Donghyuck is particularly well behaved during their time at the aquarium. He thrives off the plethora of attention from so many adults by his side and at times, dashes ahead of them to see the displays but he never strays too far. He also—as Jaehyun points out in amusement—keeps his shoes on for the whole day.

Unlike a lot of the young children around them, Donghyuck doesn’t knock on the glass and doesn’t shout at the displays. He gently presses his hands and his face against the glass, eyes trained on the movement in the water. It’s endearing to watch the way he peers at the sea creatures in absolute wonder.

“Man swimming!” Donghyuck screeches and points wildly at the giant tank, where a scuba diver is weaving between schools of fishes.

“Yeah, the man is swimming!” Taeyong ruffles Donghyuck’s hair. “He’s swimming with the fish.”

Donghyuck bounces on the balls of his feet, then he turns to Yuta and demands, “Up!”

“He wants to be lifted, so he can get a better look,” Johnny elaborates. Yuta doesn’t hesitate to scoop Donghyuck up, settling him on his shoulders.

To Donghyuck’s delight, the scuba diver notices them and sends a big wave in their direction. Donghyuck waves back enthusiastically, accompanied by a loud, “Hi!”.

Yuta sets him back on his feet as they move to the next room, but they quickly discover that Donghyuck is not a fan of the next attraction. The floor is covered in glass and a variety of fish, sting-rays, and even small sharks swim beneath their feet. The see-through footpath frightens Donghyuck and he becomes adamant about not setting foot on the glass, so Jaehyun ends up carrying him across the room.

He adores the dolphins. He races from one end of the tank to the other with the dolphins, clapping his hands when they spin and interact with each other.

“He’s probably so fond of dolphins because of the plush toy you gave him,” Taeyong muses when Jaehyun asked if Donghyuck’s favourite animals were dolphins.

The belugas are rewarded with the same amount of fascination. They linger at the water’s surface, away from the display window. Johnny lifts Donghyuck up, seating him on his shoulders for a better view.

From behind him, he hears Doyoung murmur to Taeyong, “His talking is really coming along.” Johnny doesn’t need to turn to see the bright smile on Taeyong’s face as he nods in agreement. “He’s definitely a lot more chatty than when we last saw him and it’s only been what? One month?”

Taeyong had been the one who took Donghyuck to the speech therapist. It was a colleague of Doyoung’s, someone he strongly recommended and often referred families to.

Wendy Shon was a lady in her mid-thirties who had a lovely manner in the way she interacted with children. In the brief meeting Johnny had with her when she provided feedback to them about Donghyuck’s assessment, her pure adoration for children shone through her actions and tone of voice.

Wendy confirmed their suspicions about Donghyuck’s talking.

“He had his first words a bit later than his peers, so he was at risk of being a late talking toddler. The ear infection would most likely have affected further development, which is understandable because you wouldn’t be up for learning when you’re feeling sick all the time and in Donghyuck’s case, not being able to hear well on top of that discomfort.”

She recommended a number of strategies for them to help support and enrich Donghyuck’s language learning. Johnny was less confident in using the strategies than Taeyong had been, but Wendy was reassuring and he left their meeting feeling empowered.

“Bubbles!” Donghyuck squeals, “Blow bubbles!” One of the belugas swims closer to them and blows a giant bubble.

“It’s blowing bubbles!” Johnny replies, wincing at the way Donghyuck tugs at his hair to stabilise himself. “That’s a big bubble!”

Then, Donghyuck leans to the side closer to Taeyong and points at the beluga, “White dolphin?”

“It's a whale, Donghyuck. A beluga whale. It is white, you’re right,” Johnny comments. Then, he adds when the beluga swims past them again, “Ohh wow! Look at the tail!”

They pass the gift shop at the end of the tour and it’s packed full of young couples and families. Johnny is tempted to skip the store but Donghyuck had already caught sight of it and insisted on paying the busy store a visit. So Johnny waits outside with Jaehyun and Yuta, chatting about tentative plans for Christmas when Jaehyun will definitely be back from work.

Through the shop windows, Johnny watches Donghyuck toddle around from the corner of his eye. Taeyong hovers anxiously behind him as he fiddles with the snow globes but fortunately, he loses interest quickly and makes a beeline for the plush toys instead.

“Oh man, I’m starving,” Jaehyun mumbles. Johnny glances up just on time to catch him frowning at his watch. Yuta nods his head in agreement.

“Let me duck in and see if I can get Donghyuck out of the store faster so we can all have lunch,” Johnny offers.

As he approaches his family, he hears Taeyong asking patiently, “Which one do you want?”

Donghyuck thinks for a moment then points to three different plush toys.

Johnny sighs, squatting to be at eye level with him, “Oh Hyuckie, one toy only. Choose one.” They’ve been through this before during previous trips to the zoo. Donghyuck will probably play with the toy for a few days then he will lose interest and want to play with his other toys. “Dolphin or penguin?”

Surprisingly, Donghyuck points to one toy this time.

“Dolphin or penguin?” Johnny repeats.

But Donghyuck doesn’t reply. Instead, he points at the same toy again, persistent.

Doyoung edges towards the shelf, ready to give in and accept Donghyuck’s pointing as a sufficient indicator for his choice. Taeyong stops him by grasping his wrist and murmurs, “Wait for him. It’ll create an opportunity for him to ask with his words.”

Again, Donghyuck remains silent and Johnny can sense frustration creeping in. Much to their surprise, Donghyuck helps himself to the toy. The shelf that displays a row of brand new dolphin plush toys are slightly taller than Donghyuck, but he has no trouble leaning against the metal frame and reaching out his arms to snag one off the shelf by himself. He holds the toy close to his chest, stroking the dark blue fur protectively.

“Alright, you want the dolphin. Let’s take the dolphin home,” Johnny stands back up. He pushes Donghyuck’s back gently to guide him towards the counter.

Donghyuck only takes three steps before he stops abruptly, refusing to walk any further. He begins to whine, tilting his head to look upwards.

“Walk,” Johnny nudges him in the back, urging him to go on. “Time for lunch. We have to go.”

“No!” Donghyuck protests, one arm flailing, the other still wrapped securely around his new dolphin.

“What is it?” Doyoung asks, puzzled by the sudden outburst.

Johnny’s frown deepens, “I don’t—”

Donghyuck stamps his feet and shouts, “I want white dolphin!” He points furiously at the beluga plush toy that is beaming down at them all from the top shelf, out of his reach.

Taken aback, Johnny and Taeyong look back and forth at each other.

Doyoung’s the first to respond. “I want the white dolphin? The beluga!” he gushes, plucking one off the shelf. Neither Johnny nor Taeyong have missed the way Doyoung’s eyes brightened throughout the day, almost sparkling, every single time Donghyuck opened his mouth to talk. “Great asking! Lots of lovely talking today.”

“That is probably the longest sentence he’s ever said,” Johnny blurts.

Doyoung hands it to Donghyuck and squats down to hug him close. “Uncle Doyoung will buy the beluga for you,” he grins, smooshing his cheek against Donghyuck’s.

Johnny swears Doyoung also muttered under his breath, “I will buy you anything for you if you keep talking like that.”

Taeyong swoops over to reinforce their ‘one toy only’ rule and Donghyuck happily surrenders the dolphin, too pleased by the overwhelming amount of attention Doyoung is showering him with.

Johnny’s chest swells with pride at the amount of progress Donghyuck has made, one baby step at a time. Donghyuck glows positively, clutching the beluga toy tightly in his arms. Johnny cannot be happier.

VI. Winter, 2005

Today is a very special day. Every day Johnny spends with his family is special, but today is particularly special.

Following Donghyuck’s first day at Kindergarten, Taeyong has consistently been the one who picks Donghyuck up from school. It’s not that Johnny doesn’t want to pick his son up from school, but rather, his work hours get in the way. It works out nicely though, as Taeyong’s latest job has flexible work hours and he can work directly from home as a translator, unlike Johnny who has classes to teach three to five days a week.

On this particular Thursday afternoon, Johnny has an early mark. The accelerated English course he’s teaching this semester finished classes two weeks earlier than regular courses, conveniently so, one week prior to Christmas. Whilst the drive from home to Donghyuck’s school is only fifteen minutes and the drive to the college is twenty-five minutes, the two places are located on opposite sides of the city.

The forty-minute drive to Donghyuck’s school from work is uneventful but the excitement of seeing his son powers him through the trip.

Johnny switches the music on, immersed by the sudden desire to listen to classical music. To his surprise, one of Donghyuck’s CDs from a children’s show blasts through the sound system. He has half a mind to pull the car over to change the music but decides not to. Today is important and he has to arrive before Donghyuck finishes class.

Fifteen minutes away from his destination, it begins to snow again. Luckily, Taeyong had insisted on leaving scarves, beanies, and extra coats in the boot of Johnny’s car for the three of them after the first snow. He arrives ten minutes early and waits in the car, taking his sweet time to riffle through the cardboard box for a nice scarf and a beanie for Donghyuck.

He settles on a black beanie and one of Donghyuck’s favourite scarves, a black and yellow knitted scarf that he had received from Hansol as a Christmas gift last year.

The school bell resonates in the playground. With the beanie and scarf tucked safely in the deep pocket of his coat, he steps out into the snow and heads in the general direction of Donghyuck’s classroom. Taeyong had informed him earlier in the morning that the Kindergarten classrooms are located on the side closest to the swing set, at the edge of the playground.

A few other parents are waiting outside the classroom extra coats tucked under their arms. Donghyuck had refused to leave the warmth of his bed in the morning. Taeyong had texted Johnny saying that he managed to dress Donghyuck in a thick coat and mittens before Donghyuck began to refuse to put anything else on.

The sound of chattering children increases in volume as the classroom door swings open. The teacher ushers the children out, one by one, repeating stern reminders to watch their steps as they descend the stairs.

“No running,” she calls when one child dashes out of the classroom.

Johnny watches in amusement as a few of Donghyuck’s classmates waddle down the stairs and rush towards their parents, despite being instructed to not run.

He hears Donghyuck before he sees him. His loud voice carries and—of course, Donghyuck is talking about dinosaurs. Lately, their apartment has become a mini Jurassic Park with the number of dinosaur figurines Donghyuck has been hoarding and leaving around. Donghyuck’s bag is on his back but the straps are tangled and his coat is unbuttoned. Glancing down at Donghyuck’s gesturing hands, he also notes that he has one missing mitten.

Johnny waves dramatically in Donghyuck’s direction, ignoring the odd looks flashed in his way from other parents around him. Donghyuck, too busy yapping Renjun’s ear off, does not notice. Johnny continues to wave, watching as his son gestures wildly.

The wait is worth it though because the brightest grin is etched onto Donghyuck’s face when he finally notices.

“Dad!” Donghyuck exclaims, his face positively lighting up.

The sky is grey as fresh snow falls, but his son shines as brightly as ever. Johnny’s cheeks begin to ache from smiling so hard.

Donghyuck hops off the last step and bounds across the small courtyard through the snow, leaving behind a confused Renjun on the icy steps and a trail of small footprints. Johnny squats down and spreads his arms wide open, beaming at his son.

He’s glad that his arms are open and ready because Donghyuck trips on his last step, his foot stuck beneath the piling snow. He falls right into Johnny’s arms, narrowly avoiding his first experience of face planting into the snow. But he is unfazed. He whips his head up and grins at Johnny.

“Hello, sunshine!” Johnny scoops him up and hugs him close.

Donghyuck squeals, kicking his legs. “You came to pick me up!”

“I did,” he nods, putting him back down. He squats down, hands immediately reaching to button Donghyuck’s coat.

In the distance, Renjun’s mother appears, tugging on Renjun’s hand in the direction of their family car. Renjun follows obediently but continues to turn his head to watch Donghyuck.

He hides a grin behind his hand when he realises that Donghyuck has already forgotten about his friend and the conversation he was having. Young children and their short attention span. He ruffles Donghyuck’s hair, eliciting more squeals accompanied by small hands swatting wildly.

“Now where did your other mitten go?”

“It disappeared,” Donghyuck shrugs nonchalantly. “I don’t know where.”

“I don’t think daddy’s going to be happy when he hears that.”

A look of horror surfaces on Donghyuck’s face and he whines loudly, “Please don’t tell daddy!”

Johnny smirks, ruffling Donghyuck’s hair again. “I promise I won’t. But only if you put on these!”

He whips out the beanie and the scarf. Donghyuck happily reaches for the scarf and Johnny helps him to wrap it securely around his neck, but he scrunches his pink nose at the beanie.

“Oh, no!” Johnny gasps, feigning disappointment, “I think I might have to tell daddy…”

“No!” Donghyuck yelps, “I’ll put it on!”

Triumphantly, he secures the beanie over Donghyuck’s head. Donghyuck, although a little unhappy with the sensation of the beanie, complies and leaves it on. Johnny pecks his forehead, “Good boy.”

His legs are sore when he stands back up. Wrapping his hand around Donghyuck’s bare hand, the one with the missing mitten, and he tugs his son towards the car.

Donghyuck drags his feet as he walks, eyes focused on the ground, mesmerised by the way his shoe carves shapes into the fresh snow. When they’re at the car, Johnny squats again and leans in.

“You know what we should do?” Johnny whisper-yells.

“What? What!” Donghyuck bounces on the balls of his feet, his face filled with childlike wonder and anticipation.

Johnny taps his chin, pretending to think. “Hmm, do you really want to know?”

“Yes!” Donghyuck leans in too, his hands balling into small fists, curling in on the collar of Johnny’s winter coat. He whisper-yells back, “Is it a secret? I promise I won’t tell!”

“Oh, it’s not a secret, sunshine.”

Eyes twinkling, Donghyuck replies, “But I really want to know!” He emphasises his building excitement with stamping feet.

“Did you listen to the teacher today?”

Donghyuck nods enthusiastically, puffing his chest out proudly. “I helped pack away the toys.”

Shivering, he stands back up and unlocks the car. He bops Donghyuck’s nose with his index finger, “Alright, well if you get in the car I’ll tell you all about it.”

Donghyuck begins to recount his day at school as Johnny straps him into his baby seat. He’s slowly growing out of the new seat, but because Donghyuck is small for his age, Taeyong insists that they wait another few months, until after Donghyuck’s sixth birthday, before transitioning him to sitting in the car without the baby seat.

“Then, Mark pushed Renjun over because… because… because Renjun taked his toy without asking!” Donghyuck exclaims.

“Oh no! Renjun took his toy without asking?” Johnny gasps. He reaches over Donghyuck to fasten the seat belt, ducking at times to avoid Donghyuck’s little hands that he keeps waving around wildly as he prattles on.

“Yeah! He took Mark’s aeroplane!”

“Okay, champion. You’re going to have to tell me more about it later. Are you ready for the secret?”

Donghyuck nods enthusiastically, reaching out a hand to grab at Johnny’s.

“Well, daddy’s going to be home late today. I’m going to make cookies to surprise daddy. I think I’m going to need a special person to help me out!” Johnny raises a cupped hand to his eyebrows and looks around, pretending to search for something. “But I wonder who can help me…”

The small hand releases Johnny’s hand to fly up in the air. “Me! Me!”

“Wow! Thank you, you’re so helpful! ”

Donghyuck preens at the compliment, his cheeks bunching sweetly. Johnny shuts the door and climbs into the driver’s seat.

Starting the engine of the car, eyes trained on the rearview mirror, he calls out, “All aboard the time travel machine! Who’s ready to see some dinosaurs?”

“Me!” Donghyuck shouts, shifting in his seat excitedly.

“Alright, you better sit tight then!”

The winter may be gloomy and wet, but Johnny is no longer afraid of the cold. He has his little sunshine to warm up his heart, no matter where he goes.

Sydney, Australia

VII. Winter (CA)/Summer (AU), 2007

“I don’t want to go!” Donghyuck yells from where he is buried beneath his blanket. The material does little to muffle his loud voice.

“You’ve said that ten times in the last two minutes,” Johnny frowns at the lump on Donghyuck’s bed. He leans against the door frame, “You’ve never been there before though. How do you know that you won’t like it?”

Donghyuck wriggles around and a tuft of hair surfaces amidst the pool of cerulean fabric.

“I just know!”

“Uncle Doyoung and Jaehyun have been there before and they loved it there. Actually, they went to Sydney in the year that you were born, for the Olympics.”

“That was a hundred years ago, no one cares,” he huffs indignantly, tugging the blanket over his head securely until his hair disappears from view.

“So are you saying that you’re a hundred years old now?” Johnny teases.

Donghyuck stills and remains silent. Even with his face covered and out of sight, Johnny can see the deep scowl on Donghyuck’s face. It’s likely that he’s pouting too.

“Can you come out from under the blanket and tell me why you don’t want to go?”

“No!” Donghyuck whines, “I don’t want to go and you can’t make me.”

Defeated, Johnny leaves him be and returns to packing. It’s frustrating because Johnny knows that Donghyuck will come around eventually, but they don’t have time for that right now.

His decision to accept the job offer from the university in Australia was rather last minute and initially, he had proposed to go alone but Taeyong disapproved. Even when Johnny argued that it would be disruptive for Donghyuck to move countries after settling into his new school, Taeyong had insisted that everything will be better, more functional with all three of them together.

“We’re a family, John. We have to stay together,” Taeyong stressed, gripping Johnny’s hand tightly, his eyes pleading. “Donghyuck needs you,” he added softly.

The words ‘I need you too’ sitting on the tip of Johnny’s tongue. Having Taeyong by his side in a new country would be ideal. After all, Taeyong was the one who made him feel at home when he studied in Korea. But he wanted what’s best for Donghyuck and moving countries into a new community is difficult. If anything, Taeyong and Johnny understood that the most, having experienced it first hand themselves.

He prepared himself to reassure Taeyong, to remind him that he’s the more capable parent out of the two of them to care for Donghyuck independently.

Before he got his words out, Taeyong beat him to it and confessed in a strained voice, “I can’t do this without you. I can’t, without you by my side… I can’t—”

Johnny looked down at Taeyong and his chest tightened, unable to deliver the words of reassurance he wanted to.

“Okay,” he agreed, his voice oddly hoarse. He swallowed hard, willing the lump in his throat to disappear. “We’ll go together, as a family.”

In retrospect, moving countries for a year is a big decision, a bigger deal than Johnny had initially thought. It will be temporary though, just for one year, and then they will move back to Canada. Taeyong’s job arrangement works out nicely because one of the main branches for the company he’s working for is based in Sydney. They will also arrive in Australia just on time for Donghyuck to join the start of a new school year there because their school years start at the end of January and not in September.

They’re leaving the country next week, but they have to finalise most of the packing by the end of this weekend. Doyoung and Jaehyun’s new house has extra storage space that they can use to store boxes of their belongings whilst they are away to prevent everything from gathering dust. They’ve started packing in every room, save for Donghyuck’s room, which has been left untouched.

He finds Taeyong sitting on the living room floor, his legs sprawled out in front of him in a v-shape. Taeyong had a day off work yesterday and made good progress in packing. Most items that are not needed for immediate use have been packed away, ready to be transported to their temporary home.

“He’s still upset?” Taeyong murmurs, carefully shifting Johnny’s books off the lower shelves and into a plastic storage box.

Johnny nods, plucking a book off the shelf, “He won’t come out from under his blanket.”

Taeyong tugs the book out of Johnny’s hand, slotting it into the box with the rest of his books. Johnny blinks twice. His eyes are finding it hard to adjust to the bareness of his beloved bookshelf.

Donghyuck was exhilarated at the news of their trip to Sydney, that is until he realised that it wasn’t for a short holiday and that they will be moving away. Being the gentler and more empathetic parent, Taeyong had been the one who broke the news to Donghyuck during his winter break, right after dinner.

After a moment of contemplation, Donghyuck had proposed, “Can I bring Renjun with me?”

“No, sunshine. We will be going for a long time and Renjun’s mummy would miss him very much if he came along,” Taeyong replied patiently, rising from his chair to gather the remaining bowls and utensils on the table.

“What about Mark? Can I bring him instead?” Donghyuck pleaded, leaning forward with his palms pressed against the table’s surface.

“Mark’s mummy would miss him too.”

Eyes watering, he persisted, “What… What about Uncle Doyoung? His mummy won’t miss him! She’s all the way in Korea.”

Johnny’s stomach was churning, but an odd wave of relief washed over him, grateful that Taeyong was ready, more equipped to have this conversation with Donghyuck.

“Uncle Jaehyun would miss him.”

He glanced up from the sink just on time to see Donghyuck hop off his chair. Donghyuck sobbed quietly into Taeyong’s shirt. His heart ached at the way Donghyuck clung onto Taeyong, who reached out to stroke the back of his head gently.

Voice muffled by Taeyong’s shirt, Donghyuck said sadly, “He can come along too!”

“Oh sweetheart, only our family will be going,” Taeyong sighed, squatting down to meet Donghyuck’s height, “It will just be the three of us.” Hugging him close, Taeyong began to pat his back soothingly, squeezing him tight.

As he watched Taeyong console Donghyuck, Johnny began to wonder if this job opportunity was worth it.

Taeyong’s eyes flickered up, gazing knowingly into Johnny’s.

“Australia is a really nice place and you will love it,” Taeyong murmured into Donghyuck’s ears. “Maybe I can show you some pictures on the computer when you’re feeling better.”

Over the past month, Johnny has thought back to this particular moment several times and he wonders if Taeyong’s words were really meant for him and not Donghyuck. He hopes that eventually, they will all fall in love with Australia and make their time there worthwhile.

Miraculously, Donghyuck is significantly less upset and more excited on their last day in Canada. He chatters happily in the back of Doyoung’s car, talking Johnny’s ear off about planets and spaceships.

He remains cheery until Yuta surprises them at the airport.

Both Taeyong and Johnny had known that Yuta would be coming by to say goodbye, but they promised to keep it a secret so that it would be a surprise for Donghyuck. Although Donghyuck is ecstatic to see Yuta, his appearance triggers another round of tears.

“Uncle Yuta, please come with us,” Donghyuck sniffles in Yuta’s shoulder, dampening his jacket with his tears.

“Don’t cry, Donghyuck. You’ll make me cry too,” Yuta laughs nervously. “I’ll come and visit you in Australia.”

“You will?” Donghyuck perks up, “Pinky promise?”

As they lock fingers, from behind Donghyuck’s back, Taeyong suppresses a snort and shoves at Doyoung, hard, “Don’t be too jealous that Yuta is his favourite uncle.”

Doyoung shoves back, replying crossly, “He most certainly is not!”

At six and a half, Donghyuck is interested in everything and anything.

Taeyong’s face is adorned with an amused smile at the sight of the way Donghyuck has pressed his face against the small glass window, observing the world beyond the descending plane. Donghyuck coos in awe at the miniature cars dotted along the roads and traces the curve of the coast against the glass with his index finger in fascination.

With a shaky thud, the plane lands on the tarmac at Sydney Airport. Even when Johnny and Taeyong have gathered their handheld luggage, ready to step off the plane, Donghyuck is still marvelling at the view outside the window. Johnny peeks past his small mop of hair and spots a few staff members in yellow safety vests on small vehicles and other planes, all parked at their allocated gates.

The moment they exit the plane, Johnny begins to sweat heavily.

It’s winter back home but here in Australia, in the Southern Hemisphere, the summer sun is unforgiving. The process through the customs is tedious, predominantly due to the long winding lines of tourists that await before them.

“Let’s get changed before we leave the airport,” Johnny suggests to Taeyong, pinching the front of his long-sleeved shirt to fan himself. His sleeves are rolled up past his elbows but it does little to cool him down.

Whilst waiting for their luggage, Donghyuck narrowly avoids being scolded by the security staff for petting the border security dogs. Much to Johnny’s relief, the dogs are well trained enough to stay on task and not be distracted by Donghyuck’s curious hands.

One of Johnny’s new coworkers at the university had kindly offered to pick them up. He even welcomed them to stay over in their house for a week whilst they are still looking for an apartment and settling in.

The arrival hall is packed with families. Surveying the people surrounding them, Johnny can’t help but note how much more culturally diverse Sydney appears in comparison to the area they’re from in Toronto. Among the crowd, he somehow manages to spot a petite man in his early thirties, holding a small whiteboard with ‘Johnny Suh’ printed neatly on the surface in a bright red marker.

“Hi, you must be Kun!” Johnny smiles warmly. Up close, Kun's chestnut coloured hair is trimmed neatly. It looks rather soft and shiny.

“Oh yes, Johnny?” Kun has a pleasant sounding voice, one that Johnny wouldn’t mind listening to all day in a lecture hall. Kun gives them each a firm handshake.

“And you must be Donghyuck! My name is Kun, lovely to meet you.”

Without prompting, Donghyuck greets Kun appropriately and replies to subsequent questions politely.

As Johnny loads the back of Kun's car with their suitcases, Taeyong approaches him from behind and touches his back gently.

“It’s funny how we’ve always talked about bringing Donghyuck to Sydney, but I never thought it would be like this,” Taeyong muses, smiling softly.

Johnny agrees silently. For the whole drive to Kun's house, he ponders over the fact that he had never thought his family would ever leave Canada to live in another country. Yet, here they are, weaving through the bustling streets of Sydney in Kun's car.

VIII. Summer, 2009

“Dad!” Donghyuck calls in a singsong voice.

Through the viewfinder, Johnny watches Donghyuck scuttle back from the edge of the beach, his bare feet covered in sand. They’re still standing in the car park, barely at the beach, but Johnny’s already in love with the breathtaking views. He lowers his camera to smile down at the Donghyuck, who rushes to his side and clutches the bottom of Johnny’s t-shirt. Beside them, Taeyong and Yuta are conversing quietly, gathering the bags that Taeyong had packed for their beach outing.

The trip was planned last minute. Whilst Taeyong and Johnny finds comfort in careful planning, Yuta thrives off spontaneity. Originally, they had planned to show Yuta around the city, but after half a day of sightseeing near the Sydney Opera House on Yuta’s first day, it became apparent that their friend wanted more than generic tourist attractions.

So two days later, Johnny finds himself driving two hours up north to Newcastle with Taeyong reading a book in the passenger seat, and Yuta and Donghyuck playing noisily in the back, each equipped with a Nintendo DS.

Yuta had wanted to road trip further north to Port Stephens but the trip away had been so spontaneous and last minute that they were unable to find accommodation. Fortunately, Sicheng, one of Johnny’s colleagues, was able to help them out. Sicheng’s family owns a small house in Newcastle and he very kindly offered his place for them to stay.

“We used to have tenants but they moved away a few months ago,” Sicheng explained when Johnny met him to collect the house keys. “My mum’s still trying to decide if she wants to move back up there. You’re more than welcome to stay for a few days though.”

Newcastle is not quite the place Yuta had wanted to visit, but it is close enough to the ideal holiday in his mind. Truthfully, Johnny had not been particularly open to the idea of the road trip and had only proceeded with the idea because Taeyong agreed to it. He wants Donghyuck’s first road trip to be a pleasant and memorable experience and skipping careful planning for a trip away from home is top three on Johnny’s mental list of culprits behind bad experiences.

However, with the ocean spanned before his eyes and his family by his side, Johnny begins to appreciate the thrill Yuta gains from spontaneity. It feels adventurous, almost rebellious like Johnny used to feel sneaking out at night as a teenager.

Donghyuck tugs at Johnny’s wrist, pulling with all his might. “Let’s go!” He gestures wildly towards the ocean with the plastic bucket in his other hand. The shovels rattle loudly in the bucket.

Johnny doesn’t budge. “Hang on, I think you forgot to bring something.”

Huffing loudly, Donghyuck ceases the tugging to cross his arms.

“Donghyuck, what’s the most important thing that I always tell you to bring?”

“I don’t know. My water bottle?”

“Your puffer, silly.” Johnny tickles Donghyuck’s side, making him giggle loudly.

He stalks back towards the car with Donghyuck at his heels. A familiar uneasiness remains within Johnny even after he retrieves the small orange bag containing Donghyuck’s inhaler and spacer.

A few months after they moved to Australia, Donghyuck was diagnosed with asthma.

It was a stressful period of time for the family, having to accept this news on top of adjusting to a new home and community. Although Taeyong and Johnny never held the expectation for Donghyuck to become an athlete, they still hoped that he would grow up with a healthy balance of exercise in his day-to-day life. With exercise being one of the main triggers for his asthma, things have begun to look very different.

They’re at the edge of the beach when Taeyong stops in his steps and thrusts the bag of towels into Johnny’s arms.

“I forgot the Esky,” Taeyong hums, car keys jangling in his pocket as he briskly turns back to the car.

Yuta frowns, precariously balancing a folded picnic blanket above a basket filled with food. “What’s an Esky?”

“It’s one of those portable drink coolers. They call it an Esky here.”

“You’re becoming Australian faster than you think,” Yuta says, amused.

Further down the beach, Donghyuck flounces around, whining loudly, “Uncle Yuta, you’re taking forever!”

“Coming!” Yuta shouts back. Then, possibly noting the way Donghyuck had dropped off his ‘r’ sound at the end of ‘forever,’ he turns to Johnny and comments, “This one already sounds like an Australian child.”

It is true that they have adapted to the Australian culture well, especially so for Donghyuck, who had no trouble assimilating. His new Australian English accent is one of many things that Donghyuck has adopted after living here for two years.

Their original plan to move back to Canada after one year changed drastically halfway through their first year, with both Johnny and Taeyong being offered permanent positions at their respective jobs. Seeing that Donghyuck has settled particularly well in his school, both socially and academically, the duration of their stay in Australia has become indefinite.

The sand is soft and beautiful beneath Johnny’s bare feet. He curls his toes, feeling the grains glide over his feet. He strides another half a metre, savouring the way his feet sink into the sand. There’s a distinct pathway of footprints towards the ocean, where the sand had been marred by the disruptive presses of human feet.

The wind whooshes noisily in his ears, but when he turns his head to look for Taeyong, his hearing clears in one ear momentarily. Taeyong’s trudging through the sand, frowning hard at his feet. Whilst Taeyong thrives off the ocean and its waves, he despises the small grains of sand with all of his heart. Johnny has always found Taeyong’s love-hate relationship with the beach endearing.

He pauses in his steps and waits for Taeyong to catch up.

“They’re getting everywhere!” Taeyong huffs.

He wraps an arm around Taeyong and squeezes his shoulder gently. They set down the picnic mat beside an abandoned sandcastle, using the Esky and picnic basket to hold down opposite corners of the mat. Johnny shares a can of coke with Taeyong as they unpack the food for lunch.

In the distance, Yuta dramatically screeches and dodges as Donghyuck kicks sand at him, and soon, Taeyong forgets about the discomfort of the sand.

“Dad, look!” Donghyuck calls in the distance. Without him noticing, Donghyuck had already made his way towards the ocean. Despite Taeyong’s protests about having lunch first, Donghyuck is stubborn as always and demands to play first.

Johnny breaks off into a jog towards Donghyuck. The dry sand dampens beneath his feet as he approaches the edge of the water. The foaming and bubbling of crashing waves make Donghyuck glow with fascination. He runs his fingers through the foam, watching in wonder as the bubbles dissipate. He splashes around the shallow end and refuses to stray from the water’s edge.

Johnny’s attempts at convincing Donghyuck to eat lunch are futile and it isn’t until Johnny promises to buy him ice cream later in the afternoon, on the condition that he behaves, that Donghyuck finally budges.

Reluctantly, Donghyuck follows him back to the mat to take a few bites of his sandwich before he abandons it and instead, demands Yuta to build a sandcastle with him.

“I had to bribe him with ice cream,” Johnny groans.

Yuta speaks up, “It’s only bribery if you gave him the ice cream first. If you only gave it to him after he fulfils his end of the deal, it’s considered as a reward.” When he notices the odd look on Johnny’s face, he adds swiftly, “Just something I learned from my sister. The older one with kids.”

Johnny’s immersed in watching a family play a game of volleyball further down the beach when Taeyong wraps a firm hand around his wrist. He glances up to see Taeyong shirtless with a towel draped around his bare neck. He blinks dumbly at Taeyong, taking an extra moment to piece together the situation.

“Yuta, can we…?” Taeyong asks quietly, nodding his head towards the ocean bath on the other side of the beach.

“Sure,” Yuta agrees without hesitation.

“Donghyuck,” Taeyong squats down to be at eye level with him, “We’re going for a swim. Make sure you stay with Uncle Yuta.”

Donghyuck tilts his head, thinking hard. Then, he shrugs his shoulders and resumes shovelling sand into his bucket with his red shovel. “Come back soon, so you can see my sandcastle before the waves wash it away.”

“Keep your puffer in sight!” Johnny reminds before they head off.

Merewether Ocean Baths consist of two public seawater pools, one of which is perfect for children similar to Donghyuck’s age. At times, Johnny catches himself wishing that Donghyuck is able to participate in rigorous physical activity. He has an innate yearning to be able to pass on his skills to Donghyuck, having been an active member of the school’s basketball and swimming team when he was a teenager.

The bath, strategically built on the rocky surface of the coast, allows the ocean waves to wash into the pool, effectively filling it with seawater.

“Let’s dive in,” Taeyong suggests. Without waiting for Johnny, he dives in. He slips into the water with grace, disappearing into the depths of the pool momentarily then surfaces again.

A few metres ahead of them, a teenage boy shouts, “Divebomb!” and promptly dives into the bath, displacing water with a dramatic splash. The elderly man sitting at the edge, right beside the spot where the boy had launched off, frowns deeply, shaking his head in disapproval.

It’s an amusing sight, spurring Johnny on to do the same.

But the saline water floods everywhere. It blocks his ears and burns his eyes, rushing up his nose and down the back of his throat. He almost regrets his decision, but the sight of Taeyong laughing makes it all worth it. His ears unblock when he rises from the water.

The water ebbs and flows before him, rising up to his neck as he ventures further away from the edge. The cool sensation of the water is refreshing under the Summer sun.

Johnny begins to feel out of breath from the way the pressure from the body of water is pressing up against his chest, pushing its invisible hands into each dip of his body.

Taeyong wades towards him. “The water’s so deep here,” he comments, his feet working hard to keep his head above the water.

“Can you reach the bottom?”

Taeyong’s lips jut out, settling into a slight pout. “Not really, my toes are kind of grazing the bottom.”

Johnny chuckles and wades over to envelop Taeyong in a hug, his arms sliding down Taeyong’s body to wrap securely around his waist. It must be uncomfortable, Johnny thinks, the way Taeyong is standing on the tip of his toes to match Johnny’s height.

“Jump up, I’ll lift you.”

In a practised motion, Taeyong propels himself upwards and wraps his legs around Johnny’s waist. Tucking his chin against Johnny’s shoulder, Taeyong clings onto him tightly.

For a few moments, they remain like this, tuning out the chattering of other people to savour each other’s presence. Johnny tilts Taeyong’s head to mouth against his neck. Clasping his hands tightly behind Johnny’s head, Taeyong whimpers at the sensation of his lips.

They kiss and Johnny revels in the soft presses of Taeyong’s lips against his. Beyond the bath, waves crash against larger rocks along the bath’s outer border, spraying water from above like rainfall.

When they return, the picnic blanket is abandoned. Donghyuck’s sandcastle is complete but a bucket-shaped tower on one side has become lopsided. Fortunately, their belongings remain untouched, still in the same place as they had left it. Johnny draws out his camera to snap a few pictures of Donghyuck’s sandcastle.

They spot Yuta squatting by a small rockpool with Donghyuck in the distance. Taeyong lingers around their blanket and begins to pack their belongings whilst Johnny heads out towards the rockpools. A few steps into the rockpool, he reels back at the sharp pain in the ball of his left foot only to see broken shell shards and minuscule rocks glaring back at him.

Donghyuck’s squatting in the water, scrutinising the sediment with an immense amount of concentration. In one hand, he holds onto a palmful of amethyst-coloured shell shards and small rocks.

“I found another one,” Yuta cheers victoriously, “Smooth rock, here you go.” He transfers the rock to Donghyuck’s free hand.

Rubbing his thumb over the surface of the brown rock, Donghyuck nods his head in approval, “This one feels very nice.” He transfers the rock to his other hand, “I’m going to add this to my collection”

“Hello, sunshine, did you miss me?” Johnny grins, “I saw your sandcastle.”

Donghyuck launches into a long recount about the difficulties Yuta and he went through to build the sandcastle, his words overflowing from his mouth, all rushing to leave his mind. With Donghyuck’s vivid chattering, he doesn’t realise that Yuta has left the rockpool. By the end of Donghyuck’s story, Yuta returns with Taeyong in tow.

“I’ve asked someone for a photo,” Yuta explains, gesturing to the young man behind him.

They take the photo together with Taeyong and Johnny standing on either side of Yuta. Donghyuck stands in front of Yuta who hugs him tightly from behind.

Taeyong procures a plastic zipper bag for Donghyuck to keep his shell shards and rocks. Donghyuck prattles excitedly, picking out specific shells to show Taeyong.

“They’re beautiful darling,” Taeyong beams, turning the bigger shards with deft fingers to observe its iridescent glow.

The walk back to the car park feels longer than when they had arrived for Johnny. The junction between his big toe and second toe is sore and rubbed raw from his thongs. Fortunately, they time the end of their beach visit perfectly because the wind is just picking up and Johnny can feel a headache coming.

Donghyuck whines softly, shivering hard, “I’m cold.”’

“Here,” Johnny unravels the towel around his shoulders and drapes it over Donghyuck’s shoulders. “Better?”

He grins up at Johnny, shifting closer to tuck himself against Johnny’s side.

Much like the shell shards that Donghyuck brings home, he also brings with him the liveliness of the beach and the summer sun. He warms Johnny’s heart, even in the cold, unforgiving Sydney stormy weather that they return to at the end of their short trip.

IX. Spring, 2013

Tuesday afternoons mean Johnny leaves work early to take Donghyuck to soccer practice.

The game season is fast approaching and the coach had recently increased their weekly training to twice a week. Taeyong is in charge of driving Donghyuck to practice on Friday afternoons and they alternate for Donghyuck’s Saturday soccer games.

Last year, Donghyuck joined the soccer team, during his first year of high school**. The coach was very pleased with his performance at the try-outs, impressed by Donghyuck’s abilities for someone who didn’t play very much sport as a child. But Donghyuck was placed on the reserve team as there were concerns surrounding his health, especially since exercise can still trigger asthma attacks.

They have been less frequent in the past two years though, most episodes only occurring during cold weather, particularly when Donghyuck exercises during that time of the year. The doctor strongly encouraged him to participate in the team sport with precautions in place and the coach educated on how to respond if Donghyuck did have an attack.

This year, he has coped well with biweekly practice sessions thus far, showing promising progress, both for his soccer skills and asthma management. With his asthma well under control, this will be the first season that Donghyuck is moving to play on the main team.

It is ten till five and Donghyuck’s soccer practice begins at five, sharp. Johnny has been waiting on the couch for Donghyuck to get ready for twenty minutes now.

“Donghyuck!” Johnny calls from the bottom of the stairs.

Donghyuck doesn’t respond but Johnny can hear shuffling noises from Donghyuck’s room upstairs. Moving into a bigger, two storey house means that Taeyong has a whole study room to himself to do his work downstairs and that Donghyuck has a larger, more comfortable bedroom upstairs.

At times like this, however, when he is abusing his voice to catch Donghyuck’s attention several times in a week, Johnny wonders if it was worth moving.

He really doesn’t understand why Donghyuck takes forever to get dressed. School finishes at half past three and the bus trip takes around twenty minutes, which means Donghyuck is usually home around four. It’s a thirty minute drive from work to home, so the earliest time Johnny can reach home is half past four. But even then, Donghyuck has a good thirty minutes to sort himself out.

Johnny shouts his name again at the top of his lungs for what feels like the tenth time in the past five minutes. His feet are beginning to feel sore and anger thrums through his veins.

Two minutes later, Donghyuck finally exits his room, thudding down the stairs, clad in his soccer training gear.

“Donghyuck Lee, what took you so long?” Johnny snaps, feeling the tips of his ears burn.

With a shrug, Donghyuck lets out a noncommittal grunt. He pads outside and clambers into the back of the car. Seething, Johnny follows him. They haven’t got a minute to waste if Donghyuck wants to make it to soccer training by five past five.

Anger ebbs and flows within Johnny, but he holds it together. That is, until they get stuck in a traffic jam, making Donghyuck even later to practice with every moment they waste waiting for the cars before them to move.

As the number ‘4’ in ‘17:14’ displayed on the dashboard clock transforms into a ‘5’, Johnny loses it.

“You’re late, Donghyuck. Have you noticed the time?” Johnny scolds.

They’re almost there, just a few more streets.

Through the rearview mirror, he sees Donghyuck leaning against the window. His head is propped up by his elbow and he remains silent, staring out the window intently. The lack of acknowledgement fuels Johnny’s anger, urging him to continue scolding at the next set of traffic lights.

“Why do you always take so long to get ready? Not just for soccer practice, but for school as well. It’s a really bad habit to get into. I don’t understand where you’ve picked this up from, because your dad and I are both people who are always early or on time.”

“Alright, I get it!” Donghyuck snaps back. “I’m sorry, okay?”

Their eyes meet in the rearview mirror and Donghyuck scowls at him, hard. His eyes flicker back on the road and the soccer field is visible in the distance. Whilst Taeyong doesn’t tolerate Donghyuck talking back at him, Johnny tends to be more lenient.

Not today though.

Johnny’s just about had enough with how apathetic Donghyuck has been towards his tardiness. It takes every remaining cell of self-control left in him to not to slam on the breaks and berate Donghyuck for his tone of voice.

“You don’t sound sorry at all,” Johnny accuses.

As he pulls over to the curb closest to the field entrance and puts the car in park, Donghyuck raises his voice and snarls, “Well, what do you want me to do about it?”

Johnny whips around in disbelief.

“I want you to have a good think about your actions Donghyuck. Being late doesn’t just affect you—it affects the people around you.”

“I don’t see how it affects—”

The dam breaks and Johnny allows it to happen, unleashing his anger and letting it overflow.

“It’s disrespectful,” he shouts, slamming his hands on the steering wheel, accidentally pressing the horn. Donghyuck jumps in his seat. “It makes you inconsiderate of other people’s time. It’s rude and it’s selfish to be late!”

Unbuckling his seatbelt and gathering his training bag, Donghyuck rushes out of the car.

Johnny foregoes locking the car to stalk after him. In a few long strides, he catches up with ease. He snatches Donghyuck’s wrist, forcing him to turn and look up, right into his eyes.

“I want you to apologise to the coach and explain to him clearly why you were late. Do I make myself clear? We’ll talk more about this when I pick you up at six-thirty.”

Donghyuck shakes Johnny’s hand off with a sharp flick, blinking away angry tears.

“Forget it, I’d rather walk home in the dark for an hour than to see you after practice.”

And just like that, Donghyuck turns on his heels and slips into the soccer field, disappearing from view as he enters the locker room to store his bag.

In the silence of his car, Johnny’s ears continue to ring. He replays the last words Donghyuck said to him before leaving for practice again and again as he drives home. The adrenaline wears off rather quickly and Johnny deflates.

He’s halfway home when, without warning, he is overwhelmed by his emotions again. In a rush, he pulls into a side street. The events and conversation from the past half an hour replay in his mind, over and over.

One moment, he’s turning off the car engine with a shaking hand and the next, he’s sobbing, hard, into his hands. It’s puzzling to shift from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other, from feeling immense anger to a combination of sadness and disappointment.

It’s out of character for him to react like this and he imagines that Donghyuck is as taken aback as he is with himself. He wanted to take this chance to teach Donghyuck, to make a point that his tardiness is not tolerated in their household. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh though, to raise his voice and to upset Donghyuck.

But it’s too late now. What’s done is done and he cannot take back his words.

His phone buzzes, twice consecutively. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. It does a poor job at clearing his vision. He fishes his phone from his pocket and unlocks the screen to view the two text messages from Taeyong: ‘Donghyuck texted and said that he doesn’t want to see you after practice’ and ‘he asked me to pick him up? Is everything okay??’.

He types, ‘no, not ok’. Right before he presses send, he changes his mind. A few stray tears had found its way onto his phone and the touch screen messes up, preventing him from pressing backspace.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he presses back against the car seat, resting his phone in his lap. He exhales shakily and allows another wave of tears to pass.

When he is significantly calmer, he opens his eyes again. Instead of heading home, he returns to the main street and drives back towards the soccer field. He hangs around a nearby cafe for forty-five minutes, contemplating his next steps.

A cup of coffee later, he decides that he is going to apologise to Donghyuck.

He stands by his point about the importance of being respectful towards other people’s time, but he’s going to set things right this time. Wiping the screen with the bottom of his shirt, he texts Taeyong back, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll pick him up. I’ll explain when I get home. Need time to talk to him - we’ll be home for dinner at 7:30.’

Donghyuck is chattering boisterously after soccer practice, flanked by his close friends from school, Jeno and Jaemin. Trailing behind them, the last member of the quartet, is Donghyuck’s friend from primary school, Lucas. Jaemin shouts something unintelligible and the four of them burst into laughter. Donghyuck’s soccer shoes are tied to his bag, swinging from side to side as Jeno bumps him with his shoulder.

Johnny belatedly realises then, that he had been so angry at Donghyuck earlier, he didn’t even check if he had his asthma puffer with him.

To his surprise, Donghyuck is not visibly angry or upset when he spots Johnny in the distance, though he does freeze in his steps like an alert wild deer. His friends wave politely in Johnny’s direction but scuttle to the side, sensing the tension between them. Maybe Donghyuck has already told them about what had happened.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice at you Donghyuck,” Johnny says sincerely, inching towards Donghyuck and breaking the silence. “I want to talk things out, calmly this time.”

Nibbling his bottom lip, Donghyuck’s eyes flicker upwards cautiously.

“We can do it over ice cream, my treat. But only if you don’t tell dad that we had ice cream before dinner.”

Donghyuck mulls over this, then he proposes, “Okay, but only if my friends can come too.”

“You want your friends to sit in on this father and son conversation?” Johnny raises an eyebrow.

“No,” Donghyuck shakes his head. Usually, his hair flops around as he shakes his head from side to side, but his hair is matted with sweat after practice. His shirt is damp too, front and back. “We can talk in the car after they leave. I just want ice cream.”

So that is how Johnny finds himself driving a car full of smelly teenage boys to Donghyuck’s favourite gelato store ten minutes later. The boys bicker and joke around endlessly in the car, with Lucas in the front seat (his legs are too long for him to fit comfortably in the back) and the others squeezed together in the back seat.

At the red light, his eyes meet Donghyuck’s through the rearview mirror and Donghyuck flashes him a small smile.

It’s a fruitful season for Donghyuck’s soccer team. They make it to semifinals and Donghyuck talks about the upcoming game constantly until Johnny promises to come along with Taeyong to watch his match.

On the day of the game, the semifinals playing field is muddy due to the overnight rain. The game still goes on though. From the sidelines, Johnny and Taeyong watch the game among the large crowd of parents.

Johnny ensures that he cheers extra loudly for Donghyuck for two reasons. One, to embarrass Donghyuck, and two, to show off how proud he is of his son. No amount of cheering can convey the amount of pride that swells in his chest.

“Look at him go,” Taeyong grins.

“Never thought I’d see this day,” Johnny hums in agreement.

He’s so glad that Donghyuck’s asthma has been managed so well. It warms his heart to see Donghyuck play soccer with his friends, to see him participate and actually enjoy playing sports.

“Your boy, he’s doing very well,” a mother of a child from the opposing team praises. It’s a tie right now—both teams have scored two goals each.

“Thank you,” Johnny says, feeling giddy inside.

The mother turns and flashes Taeyong a polite smile. “And which one is your child?”

“Same as his,” Taeyong nudges his head in Johnny’s direction.

“Oh!” she gasps, blushing furiously. “I’m sorry,” she stammers, “I didn’t realise…”

From the way she trails off, Johnny anticipates an incoming unpleasant comment. He anchors himself, reminding himself to focus on Donghyuck.

He is pleasantly surprised though, when she adds, “You’re both very lucky to have such a talented child.”

It appears that she was flustered, not because she was judging them, but because she was embarrassed that she had not realised they are both Donghyuck’s parents.

Caught up in his thoughts about the woman, he almost misses Donghyuck’s shining moment. With fifteen minutes left in the game, the boys become increasingly competitive. He hears Lucas shout, his voice carrying across the field. Lucas passes the ball to Donghyuck and with a mighty kick, Donghyuck scores a spectacular goal.

His friends cheer loudly, rushing to Donghyuck’s side to shake him wildly and ruffle his matted hair. Jeno presses his palms against Donghyuck’s shoulders and jumps around before climbing onto Donghyuck’s back.

They’re off again and Donghyuck exerts his new-found energy into the game. It’s endearing, really, to see that Donghyuck still thrives off praise and attention. A small group of boys consisting of players from both teams flock around, desperately trying to gain ownership of the soccer ball.

Somehow, Donghyuck manages to break away with the ball, sprinting away quickly with two boys from the opposing team hot on his heels.

Just as he is about to score, Donghyuck slips in the mud and falls. He lands with a loud yelp and Jaemin, who was running parallel to him, slows to a stop at the sight of Donghyuck dropping to the ground.

“Go, go! Don’t stop!” Donghyuck shouts, urging his teammates on.

Johnny loses track of the game after that and he doesn’t know who scored or which team is going to win the game. All he knows is that Donghyuck is injured, his face contorted in pain as he tries, but fails miserably, to climb back onto his feet. The referee blows the whistle, signalling the end of the game.

Lucas and Jaemin rush to Donghyuck’s side and help him to his feet. He leans heavily against his friends, limping slightly. It isn’t until Donghyuck is a few metres away that Johnny realises Donghyuck is cradling his left arm.

Taeyong grips Johnny’s elbow and their eyes meet, Taeyong’s expression mirroring the feeling brewing inside Johnny.

“Oh no, this is not good at all,” Johnny mutters under his breath.

Donghyuck is clearly in a lot of pain when Johnny drives him to the hospital. But he is brave. Taeyong’s fussing over him in the back and Donghyuck brushes him off, reassuring him repeatedly that he’s fine.

“Hey dad,” Donghyuck grins at Johnny from the back seat as they turn into the driveway for the Emergency Room. “Did you see that goal I scored?”

The car drives over a speed bump, jostling Donghyuck’s arm a little. He winces but doesn’t complain.

“Of course I did, champion,” Johnny grins back. “Donghyuck Lee’s most spectacular soccer game of his first proper season on the team? Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

With a broken arm and sprained ankle, Donghyuck is unable to play for the rest of the season. Initially, he protests profusely, because soccer doesn’t even involve the use of his arms. He also argues that his ankle is perfectly fine, which is a lie because anyone can see him wince every now and then when he puts weight on it. Thankfully, the coach is on Johnny and Taeyong’s side and insists that Donghyuck needs rest for a period of time to prevent further injury.

They do have a delayed celebration for their win at the semifinals though.

Johnny takes the boys out for ice cream again and by then, Donghyuck has gotten over the fact that he won’t be playing for the team in the finals. The boys reminisce about the game’s highlights, ice cream melting down the sides of their cones.

He may not admit to it, but with the amount of attention he receives from his friends, Donghyuck seems quite content being the hero of the match that left him with a broken arm.

X. Autumn, 2016

Taeyong sighs loudly and resumes pacing around their dimly lit living room. The flickering lights from the decade-old movie airing on the television reflect off Taeyong’s face, highlighting his features that are contorted with worry. The television has been muted for at least half an hour now, ever since they received Donghyuck’s text.

“Should we call the police?” Taeyong gnaws at his nails, an action that he has not done in a very long time. “The text sounds very out of character and something is wrong.”

“Relax, he will be fine,” Johnny reassures. He knows that when Taeyong is like this, words of reassurance goes in one ear and out the other, but it’s almost unbearable, watching him pace around for ages. “He’s old enough to know when he needs to come home.”

Just as he thought, Taeyong snaps back, “I told you not to spoil him Johnny, but you never listen!”

“It’s not spoiling him Tae,” Johnny replies slowly, glancing up from his book. “There’s a fine line between spoiling him and giving him the autonomy he deserves at his age. He’s approaching adulthood and he needs space to grow and the opportunity to make his own decisions.”

“Letting him stay out late is not giving him a good opportunity to grow!” Taeyong huffs, massaging his temples. “He’s fifteen and he has school tomorrow!” He stalks past the armchair and storms off in the direction of the kitchen.

Johnny wants to correct Taeyong and remind him that Donghyuck is almost sixteen (his birthday is in a few week’s time) but he holds his tongue.

Everything’s silent for a brief moment. As Johnny contemplates on leaving the comfort of the armchair to check up on Taeyong, he hears the familiar clinking of a metal lid then the sound of water flowing out of the tap.

Then, he hears Taeyong’s voice, barely audible over the sound of the kettle filling up. “I should never have agreed to let him go out on a date on a Thursday night.”

Exhaling steadily, Johnny tucks the old supermarket receipt that he has been using as a makeshift bookmark between the pages of his book. It’s been a while since Taeyong has done this, but putting the kettle on at this hour ultimately means that it is going to be a long night for both of them.

As he sets his book down, Taeyong’s phone, left on silent, buzzes loudly and vibrates against the coffee table. He ignores it at first, thinking it’s a text message, but the buzzing does not stop. Johnny climbs to his feet, reaching for the remote control to switch off the television with one hand and for Taeyong’s phone with the other.

“Is that my phone?” Taeyong calls from the kitchen, his voice unusually high.

Johnny expects the screen to display the picture of his son standing in fresh snow from their trip to Japan over Christmas last year but to his surprise, Donghyuck is not the caller. He swipes his thumb across the screen, accepting the call, and presses the phone against his ear.

“Kun?”

“Hello Johnny,” Kun greets in a soft voice. “Sorry for calling at this hour but this is important.”

“Is everything alright?”

Taeyong has reappeared in the living room, his hands perched on his waist. He’s worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and Johnny wants to reach over and smooth out the wrinkles between his eyebrows. He presses against Johnny’s side to listen.

“It’s… Donghyuck.”

Taeyong inhales sharply. Kun's tinny voice seems louder when the rest of the house is dead quiet.

“He’s at my place right now,” Kun discloses, “Actually, he’s been here for almost two hours now.”

Johnny releases the breath he was holding and sighs in relief. “Okay, thank you for letting me know.”

Donghyuck’s texts had been vague, first explaining that he will be home late, then very briefly, he stated that he won’t be coming home at all tonight. Johnny had been expecting Donghyuck to be staying over at a friend’s place, perhaps Lucas’ or Jeno’s, or even at Yerim’s. What he had not been expecting was for his son to be visiting Kun, particularly not when it is five minutes till one in the morning.

“He won’t tell me why he has come over at this hour but… he seems really upset.”

Reaching a hand upwards, Taeyong snags the phone out of Johnny’s hands and sets it on loudspeaker. “It’s Taeyong. We’re coming over to pick him up now,” he says sternly, stalking towards the shoe cupboard in the hallway where the car keys sit in a wooden fruit bowl.

Johnny trails after him, hands tucked in his pockets as he watches Taeyong pull on a pair of shoes. There’s a long pause before Kun replies.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he begins slowly, “Donghyuck specifically asked me not to call you guys... But I had a feeling he wasn’t going to tell you where he was so I called anyway. If you don’t want him to stay here, I can give him a lift home. Otherwise, he’s welcome to stay overnight and I can take him to school tomorrow.”

“He can stay—” Johnny begins but Taeyong cuts him off.

“Don’t be ridiculous Kun, it’s one o’clock. You have work tomorrow morning and Donghyuck has already disturbed you enough this evening.”

“It’s no problem at all, I can drop him off now—”

“I’m coming over,” Taeyong replies firmly.

“No, I insist. He might need a bit of coaxing but I think it’ll be good if he can go home tonight. Maybe he will open up to you about what is worrying him. The drive home will give him time to think things through.”

Reluctantly, Taeyong agrees and Kun hangs up the phone.

At half past one, the sound of the key slotting into the front door resounds through the house. Johnny sets his book down and gently shakes his husband’s shoulder. “Taeyong, he’s home.”

The small blanket Johnny had draped over Taeyong is dislodged as he lurches to his feet. Taeyong’s seething and Johnny senses an incoming shouting match. The front door abruptly swings open before he has time to decide how to convince Taeyong to stand down and wait in their bedroom until he has calmed down.

Donghyuck enters the house, his head down. The hood of his jumper is drawn over his head and his face hidden. Kun, hovering behind Donghyuck, sends them a small wave and a tired smile.

“Thank you so much Kun,” Johnny says sincerely, brushing past Taeyong and Donghyuck to pull his friend in a hug. “Would you like to come in for a drink? Some tea?”

Kun shakes his head. “I have to go home now, but thanks anyway. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

He waves once more before reaching for the door to draw it shut. Kun pauses, then adds, “He seems a bit better than when I first saw him.”

The door clicks shut. Silence envelopes the house and none of them move for a moment. The ticking of the clock on the foyer wall is grating and Johnny resists the urge to tap his foot. Donghyuck is the first to shift, breaking the silence with rustling as he leans down to untie his shoelaces. He’s rather unsteady, swaying a little.

As Donghyuck kicks his shoes off, Taeyong begins to reprimand him. Johnny winces at the volume of Taeyong’s voice.

“Are you out of your mind? Do you know what time it is?” Taeyong scolds.

Donghyuck shoves past Taeyong, the motion jangling the metal key chains on his bag. He makes a beeline for his room and Taeyong stalks after him, calling his name repeatedly.

“Why were you at Uncle Kun's?” Taeyong demands.

Donghyuck remains silent. He strides across the living room and up the stairs. Johnny trails after them, hovering from a distance.

“Donghyuck Lee, answer me.”

On the stair landing, Taeyong catches up to Donghyuck. Tugging sharply on his wrist, Taeyong draws him close, yanking his hood off.

Donghyuck sniffles loudly.

From his place at the bottom of the stairs, Johnny can see that his eyes are awfully red like he has been crying for hours. His face is also flushed red, in a way that Johnny is all too familiar with. Johnny’s stomach lurches at the realisation.

Taeyong opens his mouth to say something but then he snaps it shut. He leans closer and takes a whiff.

“Oh my god. Are you drunk?”

Donghyuck snaps, “Dad can you like, not breathe down my neck for a second? I’m not a baby anymore, okay?”

“No, you’re not a baby, but you’re still underage! Where did you even get the alcohol from?” Taeyong shouts, “We didn’t raise you to be this irresponsible, Donghyuck Lee.”

“God, you’re so suffocating. Just fucking leave me alone!” Donghyuck shouts back, squirming out of Taeyong’s grip to stomp the rest of the way up the stairs unsteadily, grappling onto the railing for balance.

Scaling the steps after him, Taeyong raises his voice, louder than Johnny has ever heard him, “How dare you speak to—”

He’s cut off by the loud slamming of Donghyuck’s bedroom door. The lock on his door clicks in place, louder than the door slam.

For a good two minutes, Taeyong’s heavy breathing is the only audible sound.

“Taeyong—”

“Don’t say it, I know I was too harsh but I just couldn’t help it.”

Angry tears spill out of Taeyong’s eyes. Johnny’s chest aches at the sight but he knows Taeyong wants space now, wants to be left alone.

“Both of us… we were worried sick and he comes home like this like he doesn’t even care.”

“You know it’s not like that, Tae,” Johnny sighs, leaning against the wall at the top of the stairway. “Come on now, go to bed. We’ll talk about this in the morning when both of you have calmed down.”

He trails after Taeyong, who stops in his steps halfway down the hallway.

“He was drunk Johnny. How did he get his hands on the alcohol?”

He can see the cogs turning in Taeyong’s head. Thoughts about Donghyuck’s friends—especially his girlfriend—being a bad influence are likely to be skirting on the fringes of Taeyong’s mind. So Johnny cuts him off before he makes a hurtful comment about Donghyuck’s friends out of spite. They’ve both met his friends on several occasions and they are all sensible and mature. The last thing they need now is Donghyuck overhearing this conversation and feeling like Taeyong is policing his social life.

After their bedroom door shuts quietly, Johnny turns on his heels and heads back downstairs to make himself another cup of tea. He’s got a class to teach tomorrow, bright and early, but he’s wide awake now and there’s no way he can fall asleep. At least not for another hour. Besides, Taeyong needs some time off to himself so he’ll join him later when Taeyong is asleep. Nursing his cup of tea, he resumes reading his book, curled up in his seat with all the lights around him switched off except for the small lamp by the armchair.

About half a year ago, Donghyuck mentioned out of the blue over dinner that he was dating someone.

A girl, Yerim, from the year above him, that he had met at his maths tutoring class. It was endearing to see how nervous he had been, almost as if he thought his parents would disapprove of this relationship. His hands shook so much that he had to rest his cutlery.

“That’s wonderful, darling,” Taeyong smiled softly, reaching past the plates to place his hand on Donghyuck’s.

Donghyuck laughed nervously, clearing his throat twice, “We’ve been dating for over two months now. Three months tomorrow, actually.”

“Wow,” Johnny said around a mouthful of steak, “That was quick.” Then, he added teasingly, just to press Donghyuck’s buttons, “Who asked who out?”

Blushing, Donghyuck confessed, “She did. We were sort of… I don’t know, more than friends since October last year? But I was too scared to ask her out and she eventually got fed up and asked me.”

“Well, you’ve got to tell us more about her now, since we’ve missed so many months already! If she’s comfortable, invite her over some time so we can all have a meal together.”

Much like his friends, Yerim is a lovely girl. In front of Taeyong and Johnny, she is soft spoken, polite and well-mannered. When left alone with Donghyuck, she is cheery and playful, their time together often filled with jokes and laughter.

However, some of Donghyuck’s behaviours as of late has been deemed by Taeyong as ‘rebellious.’ It doesn’t help that Donghyuck is one year away from his university entrance exams, a priority in Taeyong’s eyes. Johnny thinks Donghyuck is merely being a normal young person, testing the waters, trying out new experiences, and exploring—possibly to find his identity, his place in this society.

It’s not that Taeyong is unsupportive of Donghyuck dating, but he seems to be increasingly concerned that they will distract each other from their studies.

At ten to three, he hears a room click open. Johnny rises to his feet, thinking it’s Taeyong coming down to ask him to go to bed. He climbs the stairs, the wood creaking under his weight every few steps.

A second door clicks open.

There’s a hushed voice, followed by a soft groan. He hovers, just outside the first door in the hallway—Donghyuck’s room. Further down the hallway, the door to Taeyong and his bedroom is left ajar. Following the dim light of the bedside lamp in their room, he creeps forward.

Donghyuck’s body is draped across the bed, like he had flopped onto the mattress. He’s sobbing quietly with his head, covered by his hoodie, tucked against Taeyong’s chest.

Taeyong is still blinking the sleep out of his eyes, his hair dishevelled. He strokes Donghyuck’s back soothingly.

“Dad, I’m sorry.” Donghyuck’s voice is muffled.

He hiccups, then his shoulder shake as more sobs rack his body. For a few minutes, Donghyuck’s sobbing is the only sound that fills Johnny’s ears.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises again. “I’m feeling—I—”

Pushing himself off the bed abruptly, Donghyuck stumbles out of the room and barrels right into Johnny.

“Sick—” he forces out as he steadies himself with his hand against the wall.

He bolts into the bathroom and seconds later, Johnny hears him heave, emptying the contents in his stomach. Johnny is jostled again, by Taeyong this time, who pushes past him to check on Donghyuck.

“Oh god, how much did he drink,” Taeyong mutters, a deep frown etched on his face.

Taeyong kneels beside Donghyuck. He tugs Donghyuck’s hoodie off him and pats his back as Donghyuck leans forward into the toilet again.

“I drank more,” Donghyuck confesses, wiping his mouth with a wad of tissues. “Lucas’ friend, Jungwoo, had some vodka left over and I brought it home in my water bottle.” He spits into the toilet bowl, then adds feebly, “Please don’t be angry.”

Johnny can see the reluctance in Taeyong’s eyes, the hard press of his lips. He reaches out for Taeyong’s hand, the one resting on Donghyuck’s back, and rubs the back of his hand with his thumb reassuringly. Johnny presses a glass of water in Donghyuck’s hand, urging him to rinse his mouth.

“Get him another glass, he needs to drink water,” Taeyong instructs, eyebrows furrowing deeply.

“Dad?” Donghyuck murmurs, voice filled with uncertainty. He rests a hand on Taeyong’s thigh hesitantly.

“Yes, darling?” Taeyong replies softly, his eyes filled with the same love and adoration Johnny feels for their son.

“If I tell you what happened, will you promise not to get mad at me?”

Finally, Taeyong deflates, “Of course, baby, I promise.”

“We—Wait,” Donghyuck hiccups, the only warning he gives before he breaks down into tears once more. He buries his face into his hands, tears dripping onto the bathroom tiles through the gaps between his fingers.

In a strained, shaky voice, he admits, “We broke up.”

Johnny’s stomach churns. He did not see this coming. If Taeyong was taken aback, he doesn’t show it.

“We broke up tonight and it hurts so much,” he fists at the left side of Taeyong’s shirt, tears spilling helplessly, “It hurts. I loved her so much but it just wasn’t working out.”

“Oh sunshine, I know just how you feel.”

Taeyong glances upwards, his eyes meeting Johnny’s. He gathers Donghyuck, wrapping his arms around him and holds him tight.

“It hurts but you are so, so strong, and I am so proud of you for opening up and telling us.”

“She said it was because I didn’t love her enough… and I saw it coming, of course. I tried so hard and I did—I loved her, still love her but just not in the way she wanted. Or in the way I wanted.” He hiccups loudly, then says, with rising intonation at the end of his sentence, “It just didn’t feel right?”

Donghyuck looks so small, curled up in Taeyong’s arms. Johnny’s chest aches.

“It was all my fault,” Donghyuck whispers brokenly.

“Relationships are both ways, Donghyuck,” Johnny speaks up, surprising himself with his own voice. “I don’t know the full situation, but I don’t think it’s fair to put the blame on yourself like that.”

Squatting down, Johnny joins them, resting one hand on Donghyuck’s thigh and the other on Taeyong’s back. He squeezes his thigh gently, reassuringly.

“This is kind of related,” Johnny blurts, “But I just thought of something a friend of mine said to me when I had a bad break up back in college—university. We were at a park, sitting on a bench that overlooked a busy road. He said to me, ‘Sometimes when you’re driving down the road with someone and you see that the car is heading in a different direction to what the two of you had originally envisioned. When things start to not work out, sometimes you have to step on the brakes and find a new way, maybe part ways.’

“In the short term, it sucks. It really does. We both feel your pain, having our fair share of heartbreaks. It hurts, becoming distant to someone you were once so close with but it’s an incredibly brave act, to stop and admit that maybe it’s not working. That maybe we need to head in different directions.”

Through tear-stained lashes, Donghyuck stares up at Johnny’s face.

“I can’t say for sure what is going to happen from here, but Donghyuck, I can assure you that Dad and I will be here for you. You’re never alone.”

He draws Donghyuck from Taeyong’s arms and gives him a big bear hug, one that Donghyuck used to like so much as a young child. With that, another wave of emotions washes over Donghyuck and he sobs loudly into Johnny’s shoulder.

XI. Autumn, 2018

Taeyong has always considered himself as a cat person. Johnny finds it absolutely amusing that Taeyong constantly feels the need to justify his preference. He always stresses that it’s not that he doesn’t like dogs, but cats naturally bond with him better. His preference suits him though because even if he won’t admit it, Taeyong does behave like a cat at times.

Right now, with his arms crossed, a scowl on his face, Johnny thinks that Taeyong looks an awful lot like an angry cat and he can’t unsee it. Taeyong-cat would tilt his head haughtily and his tail would flicker behind him in annoyance.

“Mila peed on the kitchen floor again last night,” Taeyong grumbles. “It’s by the fridge, watch your step,” he warns as Johnny strides past him to make a cup of coffee.

“She’s a puppy Taeyong, she’s still learning and accidents will happen.” Then, with a chuckle, he adds, “She’s just like Donghyuck when he was a baby.”

Johnny takes extra care to step over the wet tiles. It does smell rather unpleasant and is not something nice to wake up to. The culprit herself is nowhere to be seen, meaning he will have to go hunting for the puppy again.

But Mila can wait. First, he needs his coffee.

“Well,” Taeyong unleashes an unamused huff, “Tell Donghyuck to come down and clean it up.”

Johnny rolls his eyes. Donghyuck is a nightmare to wake at this hour, let alone drag out of bed to clean up after Mila. It’s understandable though because he’s not exactly in the mood to clean up puppy accidents on the floor at seven-thirty in the morning either. Steaming mug of coffee in hand, he swings by Donghyuck’s room.

He raps on Donghyuck’s door and calls from outside his room, “Donghyuck, rise and shine!”

No response.

Leaning against the wall, he tries again and this time, he hears a loud groan.

“It’s not even eight yet!” Donghyuck’s sleepy voice floats through the doorway.

Raising his eyebrows, he questions, “Don’t you have class at nine? I don’t think you’re going to get out of the house in half an hour if you get up at eight.”

Despite being in his first year of university and three and a half months away from turning eighteen, Donghyuck’s bad habits of overestimating the amount of time that he has to get ready lingers. It’s not as bad as when he was in high school though, so it’s an improvement of sorts.

There’s heavy rustling inside the room, but Donghyuck doesn’t talk again, remaining absolutely silent.

When it becomes clear that Donghyuck is not getting out of bed, Johnny knocks loudly, announcing, “I’m coming in.”

It’ll be much easier to convince Donghyuck to come downstairs if they’re chatting face to face. As the door swings open, Donghyuck tugs his covers over his body sharply, pulling it all the way up to his neck.

“Mila peed on the floor. You need to come down and clean it.”

Donghyuck makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat.

“Dad… please?”

“Please what,” Johnny deadpans, familiar with the direction of this conversation. “When we agreed to get Mila, you promised to be responsible for taking care of her. Which, let me repeat, includes cleaning up after her.”

“But—”

Donghyuck cuts off, a deep frown on his face as he squirms uncomfortably beneath his blankets.

A loud whimper comes out from under Donghyuck’s blanket. It strikes Johnny then, that it’s not Donghyuck shifting under the blanket. Sure enough, a small lump squirms out towards the edge of Donghyuck’s blanket and Mila’s small head pops out.

“Mila!” Donghyuck hisses, “I told you to stay quiet.”

Johnny sighs loudly, “How many times do I have to remind you?”

“It’s just one time. I went downstairs for water last night and she followed me to the stairs, whimpering the whole way… I couldn’t just leave her there!”

“Rules are rules, Donghyuck. She’s not allowed upstairs,” Johnny says sternly. “We’ve talked about this many times now.”

“I know, but it’s just one time. Just this once,” Donghyuck pleads.

Johnny raises an eyebrow, his hands on his hips. “‘One time’ is starting to become many times and before you know it, going upstairs will become a habit for her. There’s plenty of space downstairs for her to play and sleep.”

He leaves Donghyuck to sulk in his room, his legs drawing him towards the smell of the breakfast Taeyong is preparing for them all.

A few steps down the stairs, he warns in a loud voice, “Last chance Donghyuck. She’s not allowed up there after today and that’s final.”

Unlike the first floor, the second floor of their house is covered in a beige-coloured carpet. They figured that it would be difficult to clean anything not covered in tiles or wooden floorboards, so Johnny set up some ground rules that restrict Mila’s access to the whole house when they adopted her from one of the local RSPCA animal shelters.

It’s only been two weeks since they adopted the three-month-old golden retriever and Johnny has caught Donghyuck sneaking her into his room at least four times now.

“She’s been moved into a lot of different homes lately and she needs extra love and care,” Donghyuck had declared the first time Johnny caught him sneaking Mila upstairs.

Donghyuck is right though. Unfortunately, Mila was given to a child as a birthday present. The young family quickly realised that they did not have the capacity nor ability to care for a puppy who will grow to become an active dog, resulting in Mila being given away to a friend. From there, Mila was passed around a few households before someone eventually dropped her off at the RSPCA shelter.

Donghyuck has been begging for a dog since they moved to Australia, but neither Johnny nor Taeyong have had the time to care for one, especially since they both work full-time. Now that Donghyuck has started university and his class schedule is a lot more flexible, they finally agreed to adopt one.

Taeyong glances the puppy up and down when Donghyuck pads down the stairs with Mila tucked safely in his arms. She yawns, tongue flicking out and it’s the most adorable sight. Taeyong’s expression softens, almost forgiving her for peeing on the floor.

Johnny smiles into his mug at the sight of Taeyong plucking Mila from Donghyuck’s arms, sliding his hands carefully under her forelegs to hold her up like a baby.

“She’s getting so big,” Taeyong coos, scratching her head. With a small whine, she leans forward and licks Taeyong on his nose.

Having grown up with a small family dog, Taeyong wanted another one that was easier to care for. At just three months, Mila is already the size of a small dog that Taeyong had originally wanted their dog to be.

Taeyong may be a cat person and he may scowl at Mila for her toileting accidents, but there is no doubt that he loves Mila to bits.

“Can I get a lift to the train station? Not really in the mood to wait for a bus that shows up late every time,” Donghyuck mumbles around a mouthful of eggs.

Johnny makes a point of looking at his watch, “You better get ready in ten minutes because I’m leaving soon.”

Setting Donghyuck a time limit works wonders. Exactly ten minutes later, the passenger seat door swings open and Donghyuck clambers into the car. He buckles his seatbelt, sighing dejectedly.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny checks the mirrors then reverses the car.

“Mila cried for me—whimpering and whining really loudly—when she saw me put my shoes on. She probably remembered from previous times that I leave for a long time if my shoes are on.”

The traffic is crawling slowly at this hour. There is a primary school near their house and the parents are all rushing to drop their kids off for school.

Johnny smiles softly, “She’s clever isn’t she?”

“She is,” Donghyuck nods solemnly. “I don’t want to go to class today, I want to stay home and play with her.”

When Donghyuck started university, Johnny had a discussion with him about experimenting with different learning and note-taking styles. As a lecturer himself, it’s understandable that some students learn better in the classroom, whilst others retain information better if they had more time to rewatch lectures and process information that way.

“Would you catch up through the lecture recording?” Johnny asks. The general rule they established from that discussion was that if Donghyuck is not bothered to catch up, he has to attend class because he learns better sitting in a classroom with his peers.

Children who are Donghyuck’s age are incredibly lucky though. Back when Johnny went to college, there was no such thing as online lecture recordings that one could watch back to revise or to catch up if you missed class. It’s a luxury they take for granted—at least, that’s the case for Johnny’s students.

Then there are tutorials which are not recorded and often takes attendance.

“Nope,” Donghyuck replies honestly. “Which is why I have to go to class today. I’ve also got a compulsory tute.”

During his final year of high school, Donghyuck was rather self-motivated and wanted to do well so Johnny is not overly concerned. Donghyuck is old enough to make his own decisions and to live the consequences, whether it be positive or negative.

Johnny parks the car beside the grey ‘Kiss and Ride’ sign by the train station. “Learn lots, see you tonight.”

Donghyuck leans over the gear stick and hugs Johnny.

“Thanks, Dad!”

He hops out of the car, his bag slung over his shoulder.

“By the way,” Donghyuck adds before shutting the door. “The concert’s tomorrow. My friends are sleeping over because they want to meet Mila.”

The first thing Donghyuck attends to the next morning is his concert countdown calendar on the fridge. He shoves the fridge magnets (souvenirs from their overseas trip to Korea and Japan) out of the way to cross out all the boxes he missed with a red marker to emphasise that it is ‘Concert D-Day’. He’s in a giddy mood, humming to himself as he scribbles. He chatters brightly about the concert over breakfast and Taeyong nags him a little to keep his mouth shut whilst he is chewing.

Johnny hasn’t seen Donghyuck so lively in the morning for a very long time.

Donghyuck was absolutely thrilled when Ed Sheeran announced his shows in Sydney as part of his tour. After his break up with Yerim, Donghyuck immersed himself in music and became rather interested in singing and playing instruments. Around that time, he managed to reconnect with some of his friends from Canada who he grew up with, in particular, Renjun and Mark.

Amidst their respective busy school schedules, they managed to schedule Skype sessions and bond over their newfound common interest in music. Donghyuck would spend hours on Skype over the weekend, discussing guitar chords with Mark and analyse their favourite singers’ singing styles and techniques with Renjun.

Donghyuck had begged Taeyong and Johnny to let him go to the concert and neither of them had a problem with Donghyuck attending a concert per se. It was more about who was going to cover the costs.

“You’re old enough to pay for your own ticket Donghyuck,” Johnny said, “You can go but you need to pay for it by yourself.”

“What? But I don’t have money!” Donghyuck protested, glancing back and forth at Taeyong and Johnny in mild disbelief.

“Well, you are old enough to find a part-time job too,” Taeyong pressed gently.

So Donghyuck ends up tutoring a family friend, a younger boy named Jisung whose family moved to Australia two years ago. Jisung is in Year 10 and is performing well at school overall, but is struggling with higher level literacy, like writing coherent essays and understanding complex texts. Fortunately, Donghyuck, having adopted Johnny’s love for reading and books, is strong in interpreting and analysing literature. Since then, he has been tutoring Jisung for English once a week.

Johnny returns home from work to four boys causing a ruckus in the house, blasting music from Donghyuck’s portable speakers and singing on top of their lungs. The coffee table is shifted to the corner beside the television and the couch is extended, forming a temporary bed for two. Two air mattresses have been laid out on the ground where the coffee table usually sits.

Jisung’s with them too, observing them curiously from the couch with Mila dozing in his lap. It’s a wonder how Mila is falling asleep with the noise around her.

“Hello. Jisung, are you going to the concert too?”

He whips his head around, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Uncle John!” Jisung clambers to his feet, almost dislodging Mila. She yelps loudly and Jisung presses her against his chest apologetically. “No, I’m just here… to see the puppy. I studied a bit with Donghyuck though!”

The boys turn the music down, smiling sheepishly. Johnny glances over their faces, recognising Lucas and Jeno but not the third boy.

“Nice to see a new face at my house. What’s your name?”

Donghyuck prances over to the unknown boy. He squeezes the boy’s shoulders then loops an arm around his neck.

“This is Yangyang! My friend from uni, the one I was telling you about,” Donghyuck grins, pressing his chest against the boy’s back comfortably.

“Hi!” Yangyang exclaims brightly.

Johnny racks his brain for any memories of Donghyuck mentioning Yangyang. The name sounds awfully familiar but Johnny cannot put a finger on it.

“He’s the one who moved from Germany to study in Sydney.”

“By himself too,” Lucas boasts for his friend.

Glancing around, Johnny notices that they have one person missing. “Where’s Jaemin?”

“It’s his mum’s birthday tonight so he wasn’t allowed to come,” Jeno explains, unrolling his sleeping bag on one of the air mattresses.

Donghyuck somehow manages to sweet talk Johnny into giving them a ride to the station. Johnny leaves them to muck about, reminding them to prepare to leave the house soon if they want to take the train and make it to the concert on time.

Fifteen minutes later, Johnny waves goodbye to Jisung, who is walking home for dinner with his family. Behind him, the boys scuffle in front of the car door, fighting for the front seat.

Significantly taller and stronger than the other lanky boys, Lucas wins. This triggers a second round of shoving as Jeno, Yangyang, and Donghyuck fight for the window seats in the back. Having picked up the boys from soccer practice and games for many years, Johnny is unfazed by this, only mildly amazed by how well Yangyang has integrated into their small friendship group.

Donghyuck ends up in the middle seat, Yangyang on his left and Jeno on his right. They chatter excitedly about their favourite Ed Sheeran songs and plays them in the car from Jeno’s phone.

Johnny drives them a few suburbs away to a more convenient train station so that they can catch a shorter, direct train to the concert stadium.

“We’re here,” Johnny announces, pulling the parking brake. “Have fun at the concert boys. Stay safe!”

Beside him, Lucas unbuckles his seatbelt but the boys at the back make no effort to move.

He swivels around to look at Donghyuck, “Text me when you’re on the train home. I’ll come to pick you up here.”

Johnny surveys them curiously. Donghyuck’s head is tucked against Yangyang’s shoulder comfortably, his arms looped around his friend’s. He glances at Jeno, wondering if the boy feels left out or feel like he is third-wheeling but Jeno appears unfazed by this.

“Okay,” Donghyuck replies. Uncurling himself from Yangyang, he tugs on Yangyang’s wrist. “Come, let’s go.”

As he drives home, Johnny ponders over how Donghyuck has always been rather physically affectionate, both with family and with friends, but Johnny doesn’t remember Donghyuck ever being this clingy with anyone other than Taeyong.

XII. Summer, 2019

The hot Summer weather is supposed to wrap up in the last days of February and transition into cooler Autumn weather, but the daily temperature is still skirting around the edge of thirty degrees Celsius. The broken air conditioner in the living room has yet to be fixed and Johnny lounges on the couch, shirtless. He’s watching one of the Ironman movies, refreshing his memory so that he can accompany Donghyuck to the cinemas for the newer films from the Marvel universe that are set to be released soon.

Mila is flopped on her side, laying on the wooden floorboards and seeking refuge from the heat by conveniently placing herself in front of a small fan. At one year old, Mila is full grown for her breed and she occupies the whole space between the coffee table and television.

Taeyong is buzzing around the kitchen, cooking up a storm. It’s hard to hear the dialogue from the movie with the clanging of pots and sizzling in the pan.

“Donghyuck just texted to say they’re coming in thirty minutes,” Taeyong calls from the kitchen.

Donghyuck drove to Yangyang’s apartment earlier in the day and had promised to return for lunch. Johnny raises his phone and sees the same text message notification from Donghyuck on his screen. “Okay.” He plops the phone back down and resumes his movie.

“Johnny,” Taeyong says sternly. His voice is firm and steady. Although he hasn’t said anything to indicate this, Johnny knows that Taeyong is feeling anxious from the way he is fidgeting and fussing around in the kitchen.

He turns to see Taeyong with his eyebrows raised, staring back at Johnny expectantly.

“What?” Johnny questions, confused. Mila twists her head to peer at Johnny curiously. He shrugs at her and she loses interest, turning back to face the fan.

“I said, Donghyuck is coming in half an hour.”

Johnny pauses the movie again. “I heard you the first time,” he begins carefully, unable to pinpoint Taeyong’s thoughts.

“Can you make yourself decent? Get dressed? Put a shirt on?”

“It’s hot babe,” Johnny whines, “I’ll get dressed in twenty minutes.”

“No, go now. I need you to come help set up the table.”

Johnny holds his tongue. He notes the timestamp for the movie on his phone and switches off the television. Usually, Taeyong is more lenient but they have special guests today and Johnny would prefer not to feel Taeyong’s wrath. Mila pads beside Johnny, her tail flickering happily, stroking Johnny’s bare ankles every few steps he takes. She trails after him, all the way up the stairs and into his room.

Just as Johnny predicted, Mila has become accustomed to wandering around the whole house, even the second floor, thanks to Donghyuck permitting her to visit upstairs ‘occasionally’ when she was a puppy. She has even made Donghyuck’s room her territory, but ultimately, she is Donghyuck’s responsibility so Johnny has given up nagging him about it.

She has permission to wander the house to her liking but the only rule Johnny has continued to reinforce is that beds are out of bounds. Mila is well-behaved and pretty good at staying away from beds though, so Johnny leaves her to sniff around Taeyong and his room as he picks his outfit.

He settles on a simple button up shirt with palm trees printed all over. It’s formal enough to make him look presentable but with a nice touch of fun. Truthfully, he feels most comfortable in a t-shirt but his gut feeling informs him that Taeyong would not appreciate such a casual look for their guests.

About a fortnight before his eighteenth birthday, Donghyuck approached Johnny to consult him about his feelings for Yangyang. It surprised Johnny greatly because Donghyuck often approached Taeyong first to discuss problems and conflicted feelings, whereas Johnny was reserved for trivial matters and difficulties related to his studies.

Nevertheless, Johnny is grateful that Donghyuck found the courage to speak up and trusted him enough to divulge his feelings.

They stayed up late on a Friday night, curled up on the couch side by side and talked about relationships and feelings. Their conversation flowed from Johnny’s first date to how he met Taeyong and confessed his feelings, to how they made life-changing decisions like Taeyong moving to Canada to be with Johnny and adopting Donghyuck.

Johnny didn’t provide Donghyuck with any explicit advice on whether or not he should reveal his feelings or how to confess them. He merely shared his own experiences and that was enough for Donghyuck to recharge with courage and approach his friend a few days later.

He smiles softly to himself at the memories from last year as he gathers bowls and plates reserved for guests from the higher cupboards that Taeyong has trouble reaching.

Yangyang recently travelled to Taiwan for a month to visit his parents and returned last week in preparation for the upcoming start to another University semester. He returned to Sydney on the same flight as his parents, who planned to stay in the city with their son for a week and a half to visit partnering businesses and for an informal holiday.

Donghyuck arrives exactly half an hour later, ringing the doorbell even though he has the keys. It sets off Mila, who barks loudly and rushes straight towards the front door. She continues to bark and scratch at the door until Taeyong, mildly annoyed, sets down the soybean paste stew on the table and floats over to unlock the door.

Whilst it’s not unusual for Mila to be barking nonstop and jumping around the front door when the doorbell rings, the sight before Johnny and Taeyong explains Mila’s hyperactive behaviour.

The door swings open and curled up in Donghyuck’s arms is the most adorable German Shepherd puppy.

“Oh my goodness, who is this?” Taeyong coos, immediately reaching out to scratch the puppy’s chin.

“This is Maja!” Donghyuck grins, “She’s eight weeks old.”

“She’s still a baby,” Taeyong exclaims, plucking her from Donghyuck’s arms.

Yangyang appears behind Donghyuck and punches him in the arm jokingly. “It’s pronounced ‘my-yah’, not ‘my-jah,’” he corrects Donghyuck.

Now that Johnny thinks about it, Donghyuck did vaguely mention that Yangyang had recently gotten permission from his landlord to keep a dog at his shared apartment with his cousin, Shuhua.

Taeyong lowers Maja for Mila to reach. She sniffs Maja for a moment before her long tongue flicks out to lick the puppy’s face.

“See?” Donghyuck grins at Yangyang, “Mila’s gently and she already loves Maja. Nothing to worry about.”

He reaches down to pat Mila, who barks excitedly and turns in circles.

“Good girl, Mila. You’re so gentle and friendly,” Donghyuck praises, rubbing Mila’s head affectionately. “This is your new sister.”

Distracted by the appearance of Maja, Johnny almost forgets that Yangyang’s parents have come over as well. Yangyang stands up straight and beckons them closer to the doorway.

“These are my parents,” Yangyang beams proudly, “Henry and Victoria.”

Yangyang’s father, Henry, is the first to move. As he shifts from behind Yangyang to shake Taeyong’s hand, Johnny notes that he is slightly taller than his son.

“A pleasure to meet you,” he greets, “You must be…”

“Taeyong,” Taeyong finishes for him, shifting Maja to his left hand to shake Henry’s hand. “This is my husband, Johnny.”

Henry shakes Johnny’s hand enthusiastically, then gestures beside him. “My wife, Victoria.”

They both shake hands with Yangyang’s mother before Taeyong ushers them inside and towards the dining table. As Taeyong introduces the various dishes on the table, Johnny catches sight of Donghyuck lurking in the living room.

He stands to see Donghyuck and Yangyang setting up their Nintendo Switch.

“Donghyuck, lunch first,” Johnny calls. He cuts off Donghyuck before he can protest. “The food will go cold.”

Pouting, Donghyuck lays down the game equipment on the higher shelf beside the television, where Mila can’t reach and trudges over to the table. Shaking his head, Johnny wonders if he has an eighteen or a five-year-old living in his house.

Johnny sits at the head of the table with Taeyong and Donghyuck seated on either side of the table next to him. Yangyang is seated beside Donghyuck. His father settles in the seat beside Taeyong and his mother sits directly across the table from Johnny.

They converse pleasantly over lunch with Mila occasionally weaving between their legs under the table, sniffing for scraps.

“Did you cook this stew yourself?” Victoria asks curiously, “It’s delicious!”

Taeyong blushes, “Yes I did. We’re all Korean so both Johnny and I try to cook food from home during the week.”

“Oh, Henry and I worked in Korea for a few years before we had Yangyang, didn’t we honey?” Victoria says, spooning another mouthful of soup into her mouth.

“We did,” Henry nods, “I was wondering why this tastes so authentic and very much like the food we used to have when we lived in Korea.”

Flattered, Taeyong looks up at Johnny shyly. Johnny smiles back reassuringly, reaching out for his hand. From Donghyuck’s side of the table, Mila whimpers and rests her snout pitifully on Yangyang’s thigh.

“Don’t give in,” Donghyuck warns, “Don’t feed her or she’ll come back for more.”

Later, when Taeyong serves dessert—blueberry cheesecake (Kun's recipe) and caramel slices—they find out that Henry and Victoria both speak an impressive number of languages.

“We both speak Mandarin and English the most, for work and at home. Henry speaks a bit of Cantonese for work and I just know a bit of dialect from my hometown,” Victoria explains, “We both learned Korean at one point, for business of course, but we’re a bit rusty now since we haven’t spoken it in ages.”

It explains the slight accent in Victoria’s English, Johnny thinks. He’s slightly envious of how many languages they’re able to speak and wishes he had put in more effort to perfect his Korean when he was still studying.

“I’m from Canada too,” Henry exclaims when Johnny mentions that they moved from Toronto to Sydney twelve years ago.

“Really?” Johnny beams, “Was Yangyang born there?”

From the corner of his eye, he sees Yangyang and Donghyuck wander upstairs. Uninterested in the desserts available, Mila leaves the table and bounds after Donghyuck.

“No, we had Yangyang in Taiwan,” Victoria replies, “We lived there for a few years and moved around a bit. First, we went back to my hometown in Qingdao then to Berlin. Things were quite hectic with our business and poor Yangyang had to follow us around the world.”

“It’s not easy,” Johnny nods, “We only moved once and that is one too many times for us, to be frank.” They burst into a chorus of laughter.

“You’ve raised him well though,” Taeyong praises, “He’s always so polite and he’s diligent with his studies too.”

Yangyang often comes over to their house and studies with Donghyuck at the dining table for exams. Occasionally, Jaemin joins them but when Jeno and Lucas come along too, the five of them spend more time pranking each other than actually studying.

“Oh, no, no. Donghyuck is certainly more polite than our Yangyang. Yangyang wasn’t always this studious. He has changed so much in the past year and it’s for the better, all thanks to Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck and Yangyang remain upstairs for ages and Johnny forgets this until he steps onto the landing of the stairs and hears their voices from where the door to Donghyuck’s room is left ajar. Mila pads out of Donghyuck’s room, opening the door wider. She rubs herself against Johnny’s legs.

“Can I borrow some of these?” Yangyang asks, a box of Mila’s old toys propped open on the bed beside him.

Donghyuck makes a noise of confusion. His recently dyed silver hair is fanned out in Yangyang’s lap from where he is resting his head. Johnny thinks he catches sight of Maja snoozing on his stomach.

Yangyang waves a squeaky bone-shaped toy over Donghyuck’s face.

“Oh, those? You can keep them. Mila’s got new toys and she hasn’t played with those in ages.”

“Will you ever let Mila have puppies?” Yangyang asks. He fiddles with Donghyuck’s plush beluga then shifts it so that it sits beside Donghyuck’s worn dolphin plush toy on the bed.

“I wish,” Donghyuck sighs, “She’s spayed though.”

Leaving them to their own devices, Johnny continues down the hallway to his room, where he tries to hunt down Donghyuck’s baby photos. He finds them tucked against the back of the bottom drawer of their dresser.

A few years after they had moved to Sydney, Jaehyun and Doyoung visited them over Christmas and brought three suitcases full of Taeyong and Johnny’s belongings with them from Canada. Several albums of Donghyuck’s baby photos were among the items they brought with them.

He plucks a few from the drawer to show Yangyang’s parents. As he exits his bedroom, he hears the unmistakable sound of kissing. He speeds from one end of the hallway to the other as quietly as possible to give them some privacy.

As he passes Donghyuck’s room again, he overhears Yangyang ask hesitantly, “If you don’t mind me asking…”

“Go on,” Donghyuck hums.

“What was it like growing up with two dads?” Yangyang asks slowly.

Johnny stops at the top of the stairs. Mila pants, leaning against Johnny’s side.

Donghyuck remains silent for a moment. Then, he says, “I don’t know.”

From where Johnny is standing, he cannot see Donghyuck’s face but he can almost see him shrug from his tone of voice.

“One’s calmer most of the time and the other is more uptight and strict. One makes bad dad jokes and the other doesn’t. I guess it’s just like everyone else who has two parents?” Donghyuck shares thoughtfully.

Yangyang’s voice is soft when he questions, “What’s your favourite thing about each dad?”

“Mm, my dad, Taeyong, I love how I can talk to him about everything. There was a period of time where he didn’t understand me as well but we got close again around the time I broke up with my ex.”

“What about Johnny?”

Johnny's stomach churns, unsure how this conversation will continue. He knows that he shouldn’t be eavesdropping like this but he is curious.

“Well,” Donghyuck begins.

Johnny’s heart is one moment away from beating right out of his chest.

“He gives the best hugs,” Donghyuck says warmly.