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It became a sort of habit for him. Youngjae didn’t expect it to happen for this long, it just started then they both fell into naturally, like water flowing in a river.
See, Jaebeom has a tendency to lose his hair ties. Everywhere. There isn’t a place in their shared apartment where Youngjae hasn’t found a stray hairband. They’re scattered all over their room and bathroom. Hiding under chairs and couches, well hidden in the depths of the cushions. Sometimes Youngjae finds them in Coco’s dog bed, little black circles among the white toys and blankets. Youngjae even discovered one in the fridge, right next to the milk carton.
Ever since he decided to grow his hair out, it’s been a blessing and a curse. Youngjae loves his long hair, don’t get him wrong. He enjoys running his fingers through Jaebeom’s locks while cuddling, feeling the silky softness fresh from a hot shower. He even picked up a few braiding techniques from the internet, though Jaebeom refuses to indulge in the ones with hair clips and bows. And watching him read with his glasses perched on his nose, then tucking a stray piece behind his ear, gets Youngjae a bit hot and bothered in the most minimalistic way. However, with all the pros of Jaebeom’s long hair, his biggest con is, and will always be, losing his hair ties.
It’s horrible, really. Whenever Youngjae finds one, Jaebeom loses three more. They’ve lost track of how many times they had to make a last-minute run to the convenience store just to buy another pack, and even if Jaebeom buys in bulk, he still manages to lose all 50 in a week. Youngjae is both astounded and extremely annoyed.
“Honey!” Jaebeom would call. “Have you seen my hair ties?”
“Look in the bathroom, dear,” Youngjae would respond.
“I did! I can’t find them!”
“Try the medicine cabinet.”
A bit of shuffling, moving things aside, then, “Youngjae!”
At this point, Youngjae would stop whatever he’s doing to help his boyfriend in his search. It boggles him at how Jaebeom can lose his hair ties but never find them until Youngjae comes to the rescue. He’d look Jaebeom in the eye, feign annoyance at his sad gaze and pouty lips, then move a single towel to reveal elastic treasure.
“That wasn’t there when I looked.”
“Sure it wasn’t.”
Jaebeom would then wrap his lover in a tight embrace, destroying his bluff to replace it with a sweet smile. Youngjae would return the hug, squeezing just as tight.
“What would I do without you?” Jaebeom would ask.
“Still looking for the obvious. Maybe you’d be starving too.”
Jaebeom would have nothing to say besides, “Damn right.” Even he knew he’d be lost without Youngjae, just like his hair ties.
So, to keep his boyfriend from losing them and to hold onto any last bits of his sanity left, Youngjae began wearing them on his wrists. Anytime he’d find one, he’d slip it on and wait till Jaebeom needed it then replace it with another. It began a cycle in their home lives, one that oozes domesticity and that already fits into their daily routine like a puzzle.
Youngjae loved it.
He didn’t have to stop his task at hand to help Jaebeom, he’d simply raise the wrist adorned with ties when Jaebeom would call and wait till he came by to snatch one. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop him from losing them, just from bothering Youngjae when he didn’t feel like looking for something in plain sight. Which was all the time.
“Seriously,” Jaebeom says as he comes to pick one up before he locks himself in his studio, “I don’t know how I do it. They hate me but they love you.”
Youngjae passes him a tie without looking up from his laptop. “No, Beomie, you’re just terrible at keeping them around.”
“I’m glad I kept you around.”
At this Youngjae finally looks up. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” They share a quick kiss then separate for the rest of the night, lips still tingling even when Youngjae is soundly asleep and is awoken by the extra weight added to the bed hours later.
Their cycle carried well into their mid-years, even going as far as to continue down to the next generation.
“Appa!”
“Yes, darling?”
“I can’t find my hair ties!”
A familiar sense of déjà vu washes over Youngjae. He smiles to himself as he puts the fire on low heat, leaving their pork dinner to sizzle to a crisp. He already has a hairband in his hand before his daughter comes rushing from her room.
“You’re just as bad as your father.”
Eunbyeol grimaced. “I’m taking that as an insult, no one is as bad as Papa.”
“You should, I would never say that as a compliment,” Youngjae chuckled.
A loud cough from the side made the two turn their heads. Jaebeom leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and eyes narrowed with his hair still damp and curling at the ends. He eyed his daughter and husband, making them giggle at being caught taunting his still horrible habit.
“For the record, it’s gotten better,” Jaebeom stated.
“Sure it has,” Youngjae and Eunbyeol say.
Jaebeom’s pout deepened. “I don’t appreciate the double attack. I haven’t lost a single hair tie all day.”
“Do you have one right now?” Eunbyeol questioned. There’s a hint of a smirk on her face when she catches her dad red-handed. A triumphant, “Ha!” echoed throughout the room but before she could bask in her victory, Jaebeom pounced and caged her in a bearhug.
Eunbyeol squealed and cried for help from Youngjae, but he knew better than to get between Jaebeom and his little princess. Their roughhousing has gotten worse as Eunbyeol grew older, Jaebeom claims hugging her until she’s blue is one of the few things they can still do like when she was a toddler. But fortunately, while Eunbyeol grew up, she also grew capable of fighting off boys twice her size. Being one of the only two girls in their rambunctious family full of men made Eunbyeol and Jihyun prone to sneak attacks from their fathers, uncles, and brother. Though, in Jihyun’s case, while living with Jun and Jackson, she’s the one doing most of the attacking.
Hair flew and hands began jabbing sides until Eunbyeol broke free after a well-placed tickle to Jaebeom’s stomach. She pushed her dad away then gathered her hair into a bun, looking like she’s ready for another round while Jaebeom wheezed next to the sink.
“Has age gotten to you, old man?” She teased. Youngjae chuckled at his husband who was still trying to regain his breath.
“No!” Jaebeom defended. “You just got a cheap shot.”
Eunbyeol hummed. She patted Jaebeom’s arm in sympathy then turned to face Youngjae. “Do you need help setting the table, appa?”
“Yes. Can you get the bowls?”
“Of course.”
She plucked three bowls and utensils from the cabinets, kissed both her fathers on the cheek, then pranced out of the kitchen like she didn’t leave one of her dads gasping for air. From an untrained eye, Lim Eunbyeol looks like an angel but she’s a little fox once you get to know her. Jaebeom swears she’s exactly like Youngjae when he was younger, but he honestly can’t see it.
Jaebeom finally stopped wheezing, but his frown still remained. “She’s a monster.”
Youngjae huffed. “That’s your daughter.”
“Damn right.”
Youngjae returned to the stove and transferred the steaming pork cutlets to a cutting board then began slicing them into strips. He felt Jaebeom attach himself to his side and place a soft kiss on his temple. Youngjae melted into the embrace, allowing himself to relax into Jaebeom’s favorite strawberry scented body wash, before asking, “Do you need a hair tie?”
“Yes, dear.”
“It’s in my pocket.”
Jaebeom’s hand snaked down Youngjae’s side then dipped into his shorts pocket to fish out one of the many hair ties on his person. The younger yelped when Jaebeom’s hand slithered west and copped a quick feel before retreating from knife-wielding distance. He shot his husband a cheeky grin then assembled his now dry hair into a ponytail. When he looks like that, eyes mischievous and smile crooked, he looks just like Eunbyeol. That’s one of the many reasons why Youngjae thinks their daughter is a carbon copy of Jaebeom, despite her personality resembling his own.
When Youngjae finished slicing, the couple took the food to the dining table where Eunbyeol sat with her phone in her lap. She tried to hide the device, but Jaebeom was faster.
“No phones at the table, you know this,” he chided. “Who were you texting?”
Eunbyeol mumbled something though Jaebeom didn’t catch it. Youngjae knew what was coming so he snatched the pot of rice from Jaebeom’s hand before he could drop it when she repeated the name.
“Jun? Why were you texting Jun? You’re not allowed to text Jun!”
“Papa, he was just asking if I wanted to come over and play video games.” If Youngjae’s big eyes were Jaebeom’s weakness, then Eunbyeol’s gaze is his kryptonite. “Can I? He has a new game set and—”
Jaebeom said no the exact time Youngjae said yes. Both parents looked at each other then back to their daughter. They did it again until Youngjae joined in on the puppy eyes and Jaebeom huffed, knowing he can’t win against both of them.
“As long as either Jackson or Jinyoung is home,” he drawled, “then yes, you can go.”
Eunbyeol chirped a sweet thank you before diving into the food. She stuffed a large spoonful of rice into her mouth, making her cheeks protrude like a chipmunk. When Youngjae glanced to his right to find Jaebeom the exact same way, he’s positive those two are more like each other than science can explain.
“I still don’t trust that boy,” Jaebeom commented. “He’s too old.”
“He’s fifteen, Papa, only a year older than me.”
“I don’t care. He looks like his father and that doesn’t sit right with me.” Jaebeom took another bite of pork before he continued. “Back in the day, Jackson left a trail of broken hearts everywhere he went. I don’t want you to be caught up in his son’s web.”
Youngjae patted his arm in comfort. “Jun might look like Jackson but he’s exactly like Jinyoung.”
“That’s even worse!”
Eunbyeol’s frown matched her dad’s. “Papa, Jun’s really nice! You’ve known him since he was a baby!”
Youngjae could only sit and listen to his husband and daughter butt-heads. They could go back and forth for hours on end without getting tired. It’s a mystical sight to watch Jaebeom argue with a mini him, though when Youngjae tries to reason with both of them, things only worsen and one of them almost always ends up crying. That person is almost always Jaebeom.
While the two most important people in Youngjae’s life kept going back and forth interrupted, he couldn’t help but notice a hair tie on the floor next to him. Youngjae sighed as he picked it up and slipped it on. The elastic clung to his wrist like a second skin, fitting into the grooves that formed from over the two decades of carrying them around.
It wasn’t the first time Youngjae found one and he knew it wasn’t going to be the last because after dinner when he kissed Eunbyeol goodnight, he found two more in the hallway and bathroom. Another routine he’s picked up over the years that he’s been with Jaebeom is to unload his stash of hair ties on his bedside table, though Youngjae also knew when he woke up, his pile of bands would be gone.
He’d wake up and greet the pets, then go make his morning cup of coffee. Youngjae would sit at the table and scroll through the daily news on his phone until one of two voices would call for him, asking if he had a hair tie. It’s an obvious answer, they knew he always had one on him, they just like sticking to habit.
When they come to him, he’d hold his hand up until they took the ties then he’d go back to his previous activity. It’s a routine Youngjae has welcomed since Jaebeom decided to grow his hair out all those years ago. Youngjae fell into it exactly like how he fell in love with the domestic life when it was just them two, before their little star came into their lives, like water flowing in a river.