Chapter Text
“Hey, hey, hey, that was clearly a foul!”
Dongheon rubs at his leg where he can already feel a bruise forming, an ill-placed kick striking bone and leaving his whole leg numb with pinpricks. He drops to his knees so he can be closer to eye level with the referee.
The little girl pushes a pigtail over her shoulder and crosses her arms.
“Soomin,” Dongheon says, voice petulant and rough as he meets her eye. “Tell me honestly, you know that was a foul, don’t you?”
Soomin hums thoughtfully, a frowning turning her lips down at the corners.
“Oh, leave it,” an exasperated voice behind him says, and Dongheon feels a hand tapping the back of his shoulder. “Get up, they’re all waiting on you.”
Dongheon grumbles and pushes himself to his feet. The little boy who’d kicked him blinks up at him, a football clutched between two tiny hands, and Dongheon raises his hands up to his face and back toward the toddler in an I’ve got my eyes on you gesture as Hoyoung walks back to the other side of the yard.
“Ready?” he calls, warm voice sunny again as the game continues, and the ball’s put back into play. When their new teacher had suggested they add more outside game time to the kid’s schedule, Hoyoung hadn’t quite been imagining this. If he'd known Dongheon was this competitive, he would never have agreed. But here they are, half way through a game, and here he is, watching Dongheon get kicked in the shins by another toddler, though this time at least seems accidental.
“Alright, alright,” Hoyoung calls, voice light and bright in a way he’d perfected slowly, over the three years he’d been working here. “How about a new game?”
“Yes!” Kangmin agrees, scrambling to his feet from where he’d been cross-legged in the grass, startling the toddler sitting beside him, tear tracks still on his round cheeks from the tantrum he’d thrown about the football game. Hoyoung tutts, giving Kangmin a look he hopes will indicate his disappointment, and the assistant looks back at him with fear in his wide eyes and then sighs, crouching beside the little boy he’d just scared. Whatever comfort he’s attempting, Hoyoung’s too far away to hear it, so he settles for rounding up the kids beside him and meeting Dongheon in the middle of the astroturf.
“Are we all tired out?” Hoyoung tries, crouching in the sea of kids, a soft smile plastered on his face. “Is it nap-time yet?”
As expected, there is an immediate, mutinous cluster of cries and protests, and Dongheon, recovered from his sudden spikes of fury during their game, puts his hands on his knees and bends forward, groaning like a man twice his age.
“Oh, Mr. Honey’s tired,” he says, dropping onto the fake grass with a moan. “I think I’ll sleep right here.” He yawns, exaggeratedly loud, making a few of the toddlers around him giggle, and stretches both hands up over his head, lowering himself on his back to the astroturf, turning onto his side as a nearby toddler jumps on him.
“Oh, I’ll just nap here. Good night, everyone.” He closes his eyes, drawing his knees up to his chest, and Hoyoung stands, putting on a stern expression, his hands on his hips.
“Mr Honey, you can’t sleep there." Dongheon gives an answering, soft snore, and Hoyoung turns back to the class. "Haven’t we talked about this? Where are we supposed to sleep?”
“Nap room!” A little boy yelps somewhere in the crowd. Dongheon whines at the noise, eyes still squeezed shut, feeling tiny hands grabbing at one of his arms, pulling weakly.
“I’m tired, let me sleep,” he yawns, and one of the girls drops his arm and takes his hand instead, pulling with all her might.
“It’s dirty!” she says. “Nap time’s inside!”
“That’s right,” Hoyoung nods. “Let’s all get Mr Honey to his feet and we can show him where nap-time is.”
There are a few protesting noises, but they stop when Dongheon flops onto his back and snores again, thunderously loud this time, and all of the kids are suddenly grabbing at him, his shirt, his hands, a few tugging on his boots, trying to get him to his feet.
Hoyoung smiles, dips to grab one of Dongheon’s elbows himself and heaves, cheering with the rest of them when the other teacher grumpily stands, eyes still stubbornly closed, whining as kids start pushing him from behind, tiny hands on his legs and high voices insisting that he can’t sleep outside, that they have to show him where his bed is. Kangmin, holding the sniffling little boy’s hand, follows the flock of students inside as Hoyoung turns, spotting a little girl lingering behind him.
“Mr Honey said I could be referee,” Soomin says, arms still crossed. “He said the referee decides who wins the game.”
Hoyoung smiles and holds his hand in the air. Soomin accepts it, distractedly, though doesn’t start towards the school.
“We weren’t playing to win, were we?” Hoyoung asks, making sure to keep his voice light and his smile up, not moving either, just holding the little girl’s hand, as if they don’t have a schedule to be following. “It doesn’t matter who won, does it?”
“No,” Soomin says, just as Hoyoung had expected her too- the girl’s clever, but she’s also quite mellow, bright like her older brother, and sounds far older than her five years sometimes. “But I don’t think Mr Honey was really tired, either.”
Hoyoung can’t help but laugh. He takes a step toward the school, and Soomin follows, letting him lead them inside. Just before they’re in the corridor, Hoyoung cups a hand around his mouth and whispers, “I think you’re right.”
Soomin blinks up at him, frowning, and then she giggles, and they start toward the room at the end of the corridor. Dongheon is already bargaining with the rest of the class into sitting down, arms laden with pyjamas, a baby blue backpack slung over one arm, and Kangmin is passing out little cups of milk, making sure every toddler has one cupped between both hands, his voice soft and delicate as he talks to them quietly. Hoyoung, without looking, holds his free hand out toward Dongheon as he steps through the doorway, fingers closing on two pairs of pyjamas. Soomin releases his hand to take them both from him, skipping over to where her twin brother waits by a pile of sleeping bags.
Hoyoung claps his hands together. “Right!” he announces, taking another bundle of pyjamas Dongheon hands him. “Let’s show Mr Honey how nap-time is supposed to go.”