Work Text:
“I give up.” Is the first thing a very disgruntled, disheveled and visibly tired Oh Sehun says the moment Jongdae opens the door of his small personal flat in the personnel floors of the compound. Sehun has Sehyeon perched on his hip. The little kid is dirty, fuzzy and heartbreakingly teary-eyed, rubbing his red eyes in frustration and a visible amount of tiredness while letting out little hiccups between ragged breaths.
Jongdae doesn’t know which one of them looks worse. He doesn’t try to decide either as he opens his door further and welcomes them inside without a word.
“You know,” Jongdae starts, handing a glass water bottle to Sehun and taking Sehyeon from his arms as the father-son duo settles in his small living room, the little fuzzy toddler instantly fisting his shirt between his fingers and letting his head rest on Jongdae’s shoulder with a frustrated cry, “If you moved to the other compound which has less of miserably single agents and more families, you could have neighbors who have more knowledge of childcare.”
“Yeah but, one,” Sehun starts raising a pointer finger up, tiredness dripping from his voice and visible in the line of his shoulders. “I need to fill up a lot of paperwork for it, and two,” he says, raising another finger, “People who have kids of their own hate babysitting in their free times so I have more free babysitter options here.”
“Babysitters who can kill a terrorist with their bare hands but have no idea of what a proper diet for a toddler consists of.” Jongdae deadpans, pacing the small room while rubbing Sehyeon’s back in soothing motions. The little one is still fuzzy and sulky and hiccuping. But Jongdae is used to this. Sehyeon gets fuzzy whenever Sehun is back from a long mission. Simply out of frustration for his father, for leaving him for so long. It gets him the much needed attention and affection that he couldn’t get while his father was away, despite there always being a friend or colleague of Sehun to take care of him. It happens to be Jongdae in most cases, but not this time around. He was simply too busy as one of the captains of the special forces, trying to sort out the mess the recent political tension, repeated military failures and the conjoint public scale panic have caused.
When Sehyeon is having one of his ‘bad days’, like this one, holding the toddler close to his chest and walking him around until he calms down from his little fit usually works just fine. So does constant kisses and head rubs. All of which Sehun was just too tired to provide on his own this time from the looks of the things.
As Sehyeon’s painful hiccups calm down, Jongdae looks at the younger agent sitting on his chair with a critical eye. He seems to lack a major injury despite supporting some small cuts around his exposed arms and across his cheekbones, and a sore ankle that Jongdae noticed while the younger was walking the small distance from the door to the chair. “Concussion?”
“I don’t have a head injury.” Sehun replies without even sparing him a glance, used to the way Jongdae checks his condition after a mission.
“But you haven’t been to medical yet, have you?”
Sehun sighs, which is answer enough.
“Go check-in with medical, I got him.” Jongdae says with an authoritative edge to his voice. Sehyeon is relatively calmer within his arms, despite his harsh breathing and runny nose, visibly focusing on the adults talking around him in hushed tones. He does love listening to people, whether they talk to him, about him, or just beside him. It is lucky that it helps to calm him down from his tantrums as well, especially if Sehun is one of the people who is talking.
“You do not ‘got him’ Jongdae,” Sehun objects, trying to take irritation out of his voice while Sehyeon is listening so carefully and looking at him with huge, teary, brown eyes from his place on Jongdae’s arms. “He will start crying the moment I leave.” He mouths, taking advantage of the split second Sehyeon rubs his tired eyes to mutter the words, knowing very well how risky it is to talk about the possibility of Sehun leaving when Sehyeon is like this. It can push him into an even bigger tantrum if they are not careful with their words.
Jongdae sighs. The fight is leaving him instantly. Risking to stop rubbing Sehyeon’s back to come forward and move Sehun’s black strands from his forehead, looking into his tired, black eyes with soft affection. “Come on, then.” He says, hand slipping down to cup his cheek as Sehun leans down into his palm and sighs. Jongdae’s heart aches. Sehun looks so young like this. So much like Sehyeon and not much like the fearless, talented agent working for the most dangerous espionage and special law enforcement agency in their side of the world. “I can sing for you until you both feel better.”
Sehun goes to bed willingly, not minding the way he is dirtying Jongdae’s sheets with all the dirt of the mission he is still carrying. Sehyeon is harder to convince but it helps to see both Jongdae and Sehun in the bed and within reach for him to understand that this is the perfect situation where he can get all the affection he is craving. He forces them both to curl around him, cocooning him with their bodies as Jongdae sings the few lullabies he knows on repeat.
Sehun is asleep almost as soon as Jongdae is done with the first lullaby. Sehyeon takes more time, but eventually he is curling under his father’s chin and giving into his small, tired body.
Jongdae waits a little while more, indulging his heart and giving himself a few more minutes to watch the picture in front of him. Then he is up and leaving the bed to retrieve the first aid kit from the en-suite bathroom. Sehun has injuries to be cleaned and wrapped, and an ankle to be tended to.
And Jongdae is never good at staying still when he knows the younger is injured or in pain. It is never easy to have Sehun back from a mission, all battered up and tired. So Jongdae tries to provide. All the love, affection, care and help.
Only then, he rewards himself by lying in the bed with them.