Chapter Text
prologue
The most difficult thing with being a Sociology professor, Yoongi realized, was balancing a book between his knees while holding a cup of iced Americano on one hand and holding his niece’s sippy cup in the other. He groaned in annoyance, having to let go of his own drink, (since his niece has eyes on her back and would complain if he let go of her sippy cup albeit for only a few seconds), and flipped to the next page.
He’d also reasoned that the next difficult thing with being a Sociology professor was chilling on a stool in the middle of the bakery needs aisle of his hyung’s grocery store. He’d received a lot of knowing looks and heard a lot of annoying comments thrown at him for blocking the honey and yeast shelves. But Yoongi was known as the old man cooping in Seokjin’s grocery store for years so no one would openly call him out.
But this isn’t a story about Yoongi and his torturous life as a university professor. It isn’t about how he found himself settled in the middle of the grocery aisle, thinking of the next thing he’s going to discuss in class while watching with careful eyes the young girl skirting down his way.
This is a story about Sarang, the young bean that entered his and his friends' lives, making them all uncles overnight. It’s a story about how little Sarang, tippy-toed on her small lilac flat shoes and opened her small pink lips to purse at her sippy cup.
It’s also a story of Sarang’s father - Jeon Jeongguk – Yoongi’s most beloved dongsaeng who became a father on the same night Yoongi and his friends had become uncles to their little bundle of joy.
It’s also a story of Jeongguk’s unending adoration with tattoos and how Sarang had just drawn a new image of what seemed a picture of a bunny on her father’s left arm. Yoongi snorted at the once clear skin now inked with a purple Sharpie.
“Too high!” Jeongguk giggled and lifted his little girl to reach her uncle’s outstretched arm. She took the sippy cup off of Yoongi’s hold and grinned widely when Yoongi grinned back at her.
“Uncle Yoongi, what are you reading?”
At the bright age of 5, Sarang’s well apt with speaking, reading, and even socializing. It must’ve been a perk of having two loud uncles who never stopped talking to her while she was growing. Hoseok and Seokjin, who also happened to manage the grocery they’re currently at, were a godsend in making little Sarang come out of her shell.
It was also a blessing that Yoongi’s boyfriend, Namjoon, was nothing but a nerd. He was meticulously changing Sarang’s library with books that fit her age. Yoongi used to spend most of his free time reading books for Sarang. Yoongi’s contribution is making sure that Sarang gets her sippy cup after the young girl helped her father in filling in the shelves in the grocery.
Yoongi eyed Jeongguk who was looking at the wobbly scribble of the violet bunny on his arm. Yoongi knew that look. Yoongi had known Jeongguk since his nappy days that even the slightest change of breathing sent Yoongi a message already.
“I’m reading about Plato,” Yoongi sighed, leaning against the metal that connects the shelves behind him. He’s been in this position for so long that he knew where to lean exactly, mindful not to shake the items in it.
“Don’t you have other things to do?” Yoongi asked Jeongguk who was kneeling beside him and before his daughter.
“We’ve just finished refilling the yogurts, didn’t we, Sarang?”
Sarang grinned and nodded, her little apron, the one Seokjin had asked Yoongi to make for her swings against her white summer dress.
“I saw strawberry yogurt,” Sarang explained, lips at the tip of her sippy cup, teeth peeking in tiny. “Could we get ‘nana milk, papa?”
Jeongguk opened his arms. If there’s one thing Yoongi had accepted to learn, it’s that no one can deny little Sarang. And when Sarang leaped in her father’s arms, tiny palm smacking at her little sketch, Yoongi knew—Jeongguk would have that drawing inked on his skin, yet again.
So this isn’t a story about Yoongi, but a story of the two most precious people in his life and with all of their friends. How Jeongguk knocked at his house one rainy night 5 years ago, crying and holding a tiny Sarang wrapped in a yellow blanket, flashed fresh in his memory and he can’t help but admire the young father and daughter walking away from him, giggling to themselves. Jeongguk was only 20 when Sarang came into his life, out of a one-night stand that had gone wrong, matched with a mother who wasn’t ready to give up her life for the little girl, Yoongi and the rest of Jeongguk’s hyungs helped their little man.
So this isn’t a story about Yoongi, the Sociology professor who spent his time after work babysitting little Sarang while waiting for Namjoon to pick him up so they can send Jeongguk and Sarang home. It isn’t a story about how Seokjin and Hoseok took turns picking up Sarang from the daycare while Jeongguk balanced his university life and sideline works.
It’s a story of how it took a village to raise a kid. It’s a story about the young Jeongguk trying to balance life, work, and his adoration for his little girl.
And of course—
It’s also a story about Sarang’s endless chatter of pretty drawings, I want pretty drawings too, papa ever since she’s learned how to talk. It’s a story of Jeongguk’s love for tattoos and the reason why he can’t possibly just ignore his daughter but would just willingly obey. Ink after ink after ink, they’d both go back to the tattoo artist that would help Jeongguk get his daughter’s drawings on him permanently.
It’s also a story about how Jeongguk wished to have the said tattoo artist have his heart inked with love, too.
i
Jeongguk woke to the loud sound of something breaking in the kitchen. He groaned and looked at the alarm clock by his side table. It’s only seven minutes past eight in the morning. With summer almost nearing its end and the school’s going to be off soon, Jeongguk savored the times he can spend and stay in bed for as long as he can.
However, his daughter has other plans.
He heard another sound clanging down the floor, this time a sound of plastic, or was it wood? Banging loudly just outside his bedroom door. He hurriedly pushed the blanket away and dashed down the hall only to see little Sarang surrounded by broken pieces of a dish plate.
“Morning Papa,” Sarang greeted, eyes wide and teary. But she was flashing a smile at her father despite the havoc she’s just created on the kitchen floor.
Jeongguk toothily smiled at her and examined the scene. He almost felt proud that Sarang was on her stool and not on the floor where the broken pieces are. Apparently, she tried cleaning up, jumping to another stool beside the kitchen island but failed, making the furniture topple over.
“What’s the mission for today baby?”
If there’s one thing Jeongguk had learned being a single parent and being a parent at young—it’s to let his child’s curiosity and creativity just explode. He’d learned from seminars he’d attended in university that children tend to be explorers and the best way an adult could deal with the kid’s inquisitiveness is to proper guidance.
Not that Sarang’s was guided at that exact moment. But Jeongguk learned never to get mad at things like this. He’s was just thankful that Sarang didn’t scratch herself. He will have a talk about hopping to other stools because that thing isn’t up for any argument.
“Wanted to make brekkie,” Sarang explained, finally sitting down on her caged stool and hanging her tiny legs atop. She lifted an arm and wiped her tears away, only having the courage to finally cry.
Jeongguk quickly rounded the island where the floor’s scarce of the broken pieces and picked his daughter up.
She tucked her face against his neck and clutched at the back of his shirt tightly.
“Sorry papa, broke the plate,” Sarang sniffled. Her black locks were already long and Jeongguk thought of braiding it later when they go to the shops and get her school supplies.
Jeongguk kissed her temple and rubbed her back.
“It’s alright, as long as you didn’t get hurt,” her father said. Sarang pulled back and looked at him, head tilting to the side.
“Promise?”
Jeongguk grinned, bottom lip tucked tightly by his two front teeth. Sarang giggled poked her father’s chin.
“Promise,” he assured her, placing a kiss on her forehead. “What were you planning to make, baby?”
Jeongguk placed Sarang on top of the island. Her legs automatically swung against the cabinet. Jeongguk rounded the place again and retrieved the broom and dustpan.
“Kimchi rice,” Sarang cheered and Jeongguk rolled his eyes playfully as he started sweeping the mess on the floor.
“That’s too ambitious,” Jeongguk told her, depositing the broken pieces in the near bin. Sarang hummed and pushed her locks back.
“Ambi-shoes?”
Jeongguk figured that it could be a big word for such a young kid so he nodded and cleared the dustpan and broom under the kitchen sink. He washed his hands and turned to face her daughter again.
“Ambitious, like you, have big dreams,” Jeongguk explained. He went to the other side of the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. He fetched the ingredients his daughter wanted for breakfast and headed back to the sink. Sarang followed him with her gaze, orbs big and observant. Jeongguk knew how Sarang wanted to be involved with almost everything and everything is something Jeongguk would give to his daughter, even the most impossible things.
As soon as he placed the jar of kimchi, two instant rice, green onions, and two pieces of eggs on the counter, he picked his daughter off the island and placed her on her stool beside him.
“Big dreams? Ambi-shoes mean you have big dreams, is that right?”
Jeongguk hummed in affirmation, helping his daughter pump soap on her tiny palms and mutely ordering her to scrub thoroughly.
“Yes, exactly. Little Sarang cooking kimchi fried rice is a big dream!”
Sarang looked up at her father and pouted. “Is it because I am little?”
Jeongguk laughed and shook his head, opening the tap and guiding her hands under the flowing water.
“You’ve been spending too much time with uncle Yoongi.”
Sarang nodded, totally ignorant of the implication her father had meant. “I like uncle Yoonie.”
Jeongguk only grinned, he sort of got it. He liked his Yoongi hyung, too. She was truly his kid.
“And uncle Joonie, uncle Jinnie, and uncle Hoba,” Sarang sang as she reached for the dishcloth and dried her hands. Jeongguk hummed again and after a few seconds of silence, he gasped and looked at his daughter.
“What about papa?” He said dramatically, earning a fit of giggles from his little girl.
“I like papa the best!” Sarang cheered, leaning to her side and pressing her body as the stool would allow her. “I love papa, did you know?”
Jeongguk smiled thoughtfully at her, heart thrumming against his rib with so much pride and joy. Had he thought of running away from five years ago, then he wouldn’t be able to hear those sweet words.
As they work hand in hand, cracking the eggs and cutting the kimchi with a pair of scissors, Jeongguk grinned when Sarang would watch him in pure awe. It’s as if he was making something so special when it’s only kimchi fried rice. When they both settled on the dining table, chatting and discussing their day ahead, Jeongguk admired how her tiny hands would always find themselves wrapped around Jeongguk’s tattooed arm.
“If I say I want drawings on my skin, too, papa,” Sarang said, one hand on Jeongguk’s arm and the other clutched tightly around her spoon. “Is Sarang too ambi-shoes?”
Jeongguk cackled at that.
The thing was when Sarang learned a new word, she wouldn’t stop using it on her daily chatter. Not that Jeongguk would be against it, but it was something that made him laugh for quite some time until they bumped into someone in the department store.
Right after breakfast, Sarang and Jeongguk went to the nearest mall so they could get her a new pair of shoes and use the coupons Hoseok had given them. It’s a 100,000 won worth of gift certificate. When Hoseok had given it to the younger last night, Jeongguk almost shrieked at the amount. He was already planning on buying things for Sarang from the farmer’s market where everything was cheap, but Hoseok, ever the saving grace and blinding smile, shoved the gift certificates and had told him to use them to get things for Sarang and for himself.
“But hyung, this is too much,” Jeongguk had whined.
Hoseok had only grinned and ruffled his hair. Sarang had already been fast asleep in Yoongi’s arms at the back seat of Namjoon’s car. They’d just finished eating dinner in the Chinese restaurant whose owners were Seokjin’s friends.
“It’s never enough,” Hoseok had replied with a soft smile. He had pulled the younger for a hug and groaned when Seokjin wrapped them both in his long arms.
“Besides, Sarangie deserves pretty clothes and pretty shoes and a pretty bracelet,” Hoseok had giggled pulling away.
“And you need a new wardrobe, you look like Yoongi,” Seokjin had muttered, loud enough for the said man to just glare at them from where he was seated.
You’re lucky, Sarang’s asleep, Yoongi had mouthed, eyes sharp while transfixing between them and the sleeping girl in his arms.
Jeongguk had only laughed again and nodded, feeling thankful and relieved. Once he’s in his passenger seat, Namjoon had squeezed his shoulder.
“It’s your last year in uni and just like the previous years, you’re going to be alright,” Namjoon had said, voice deep and full of assurance.
With Sarang’s final year in daycare, she couldn’t stop telling to her uncles that she’s a senior, just like her papa. Seokjin had only agreed with her, finding the comparison all too bewildering and amazing. Yoongi had mentioned that his little Sarang was the smartest kid and that she was indeed correct. She was a senior in the daycare just like her papa in the university.
And so, Jeongguk and Sarang threaded their way through the department store, pointing at the clothes that caught their attention. Their tiny pushcart was left at the end of the aisle, completely distracted by the purple dresses hanging in the racks. They were busy choosing which clothes to get when Jeongguk declared to get all of the designs available. Sarang stomped her foot with a laugh and turned around to run at the end of the aisle to look for better clothes.
“We only need fewer clothes, papa! You’re too ambi-shoes,” she giggled, braided pigtails swinging as she ran.
She was still looking at her papa when she ran away, unaware of the man before him and when Jeongguk realized that she’s going to bump the person, he ran after her.
Only, he arrived late.
Even before Sarang could fall on her bum, big warm hands pulled her by her short arms. Sarang looked up and smiled. Jeongguk, however, felt the hair at the back of his neck rising.
“Tae Tae!”
Said mad knelt before Sarang and grinned lovingly at her. Jeongguk swayed his weight from one foot to the other. See aside from all the things he’d adored—his daughter, his hyungs, his life—he’s also adored the man before his daughter who wear the most unique boxy smile and flash the brightest eyes.
He also happens to be Jeongguk’s tattoo artist for years. After three years of just dealing with gruesome pining, almost all of his hyungs have come aware of it already. Seokjin had once teased Jeongguk that the reason why he’s dubbed Taehyung as his tattoo artist is that that’s the only thing – the closest thing – he could ask Taehyung. Jeongguk had agreed. There’s no way in hell that Jeongguk would finally have the guts to ask Taehyung out. Despite them being friends for years.
If there’s anything, Jeongguk found the task too ambitious. And he’s already a grown man!
“Hello!” Taehyung grinned, kneeling completely on the floor. He looked behind Sarang and spotted Jeongguk smiling warily at him.
“Fancy meeting the both of you here!”
Jeongguk grinned this time, finding Taehyung’s energy just so overflowing. He eyed the tattoo artist and bit his lip. He looked so uncomfortable or he’s just too good at concealing how the tiled floor must be cold just so he can flash a happy smile to his daughter.
This is one of the things he’d find about Taehyung endearing. He’s able to just be happy and just cheerful when he’s face to face with Sarang. It’s only this year that Sarang had officially met him, but she’s been brought to Taehyung’s tattoo shop ever since she was three. Seokjin and Hoseok had almost thrown a fit when Jeongguk brought Sarang to the place that wasn’t safe and clean but Jeongguk had brought the couple with him, asking him to mind over Sarang while Taehyung ink his daughter’s broken scribbles around his wrist.
The devotion for tattoos started even before any of Jeongguk’s hyungs could remember. At the young age of two, they all learned that Sarang has grown a fixation on Jeongguk’s tattooed shoulder, pressing and rubbing her cheeks at the inked skin. They all thought it was just because Jeongguk’s tattoos were flashy and designed so well that she’d grown a liking to it.
She’ll grow out from it, soon, they had said. But as soon as Sarang learned how to speak, mumbled the words pretty and drawing (all thanks to her uncle Joonie who never stopped telling Yoongi how pretty he is) she’d never stopped chattering the phrase over and over again. With his forearm being free the only thing close to Sarang when she started learning how to write and draw at the age of two, Jeongguk would hear her mutter the words:
Tattoo this papa? Pretty draw on skin?
And Jeongguk, bless him, loved his daughter so much that the blank space on his forearm was littered by Sarang’s drawings and some designs he’d made just because.
And all of those ink on his skin that had completed his daughter’s wish manifested his daughter’s love—inked him carefully for three years was Kim Taehyung.
Kim Taehyung who was, despite being an artist, was free from any traces of pierces and inks. Kim Taehyung who was, despite being aloof, was all smiles and giddy before Jeon Sarang. Kim Taehyung who was, despite being older than Jeongguk, was acting like a kid whenever they see him.
“Is that a new tattoo idea?” Taehyung asked, pointing at the faded purple bunny on Jeongguk’s skin. Ah, the bunny drawing his daughter had drawn last night while they were busy checking the inventory checklist.
“Idea? Sarang’s idea,” Sarang proudly said. She swayed on her ground, she’s wearing cotton pants and a white shirt, mirroring her father’s white tee and black pants combo.
Jeongguk was really bothered at Taehyung’s knees so before he could respond, he lifted Sarang effortlessly and carried his daughter in one arm while offering a hand to help Taehyung get to his feet. The older man smiled, and gripped his hand tightly, squeezing it in thanks.
Jeongguk almost missed the warmth when he let go of his hands.
See, if there’s anything that can be considered as his biggest dream now, it’s that he’s a boy violet hoping that he’d be brave enough to actually confess to Kim Taehyung, the man who’s inked him a thousand times, but he couldn’t find time the strength to confess a thousand times back.
Call him ambitious, but whenever Taehyung flashes that bright boxy smile he’d just feel his crazy life take a total turn, for another good thing, of course. Sarang wasn’t a mistake, he’d told himself a lot of times, and falling for Taehyung wasn’t a mistake, but he’s always been so shy, so meek, so, so violet—like Eeyore feeling a little too apprehensive and dissentient with things in life. Because Jeongguk will admit it, as much as he’s thankful for Sarang, for his hyungs—there are things that he still worries about. A lot of things that concerned his future with his daughter, things that concerned Kim Taehyung.
And it’s funny, how he’s made it through five years of single-handedly lulling Sarang to sleep because of how he spent his time indoors so he can be with his kid. It’s funny, how he’s grown into something different, with his parents shunning him away and only having his hyungs to rely on—it takes a community to raise a kid they would always say and he’s thankful.
Thankful that he has them and yet, despite the fact that he’d grown so much, deemed himself as a proper father compared even to his own father, he still gets shy.
He’s like a mimosa plant, the violet flowers with oval-shaped leaves that would shy away when touched.
Like the mimosa plant, Jeongguk shied away when Taehyung reached for the faded bunny on his skin.
“Is it another drawing of Sarangie?” Taehyung asked, leaning closer. Jeongguk breathed in the soft lavender and chamomile of his perfume or was it his lotion? Jeongguk never really learned but his nose has always been so sensitive and he really liked it that Taehyung doesn’t smell too overpowering. He liked it.
“Draw it last night,” Sarang clapped, leaning her head against Jeongguk’s shoulder. “You gonna make it into a pretty tattoo, Tae Tae?”
“Tae Tae?” Another voice filtered into their earshot. Sarang wrapped her arms around Jeongguk’s neck and peered beside them. Just across them, almost behind Taehyung stood a smaller man with soft chocolate hair. Taehyung offered a hand and the man took it, making Jeongguk almost churn at how close they seemed.
Taehyung pulled the man closer and cleared his throat. Jeongguk eyed the way the man clung onto Taehyung. There’s no way in hell they’re not dating—
“Jeonggukie, Sarangie,” Taehyugn began and Jeongguk hugged his daughter, now with both arms. He’s a boy violet for a reason. He’s too gloomy, too dramatic, too—
“This is Jimin, my best friend,” Taehyung finished and Jeongguk felt his heart calming back into a normal rate.
“Hello,” Jimin greeted, bowing at the father and daughter. Sarang, always so polite, all thanks to Namjoon and her father, wiggled out of his arms. Jeongguk gingerly placed her back on the ground and watched with a soft smile as his daughter bowed back.
“My name’s Jeon Sarang, and I am five.”
Jimin giggled and like his best friend, knelt before her. Jeongguk thought that Jimin has the purest heart. He’d only met his daughter but he was all bright eyes and soft smiles. Sarang giggled into something Jimin had said and before Jeongguk could pry what was it about, Taehyung tugged at the sleeve of his shirt.
“You’re out shopping, Jeonggukie?”
Jeongguk grinned at the nickname. His hyungs had all endearing names for him, but when it’s Taehyung who rolled out his name that way, he couldn’t help but feel his cheeks turn pink.
“We’re buying clothes for Sarang,” he answered with a shy smile. He’s a grown man but he’d never talked to Taehyung outside of the tattoo shop. This was something considered phenomenal for someone like him. Sarang’s words of ambi-shoes played on repeat in his head.
“Sarang’s going back to school?” Taehyung asked, voice loud for the little girl and his best friend to hear.
“Yes! I am a senior in daycare now, Tae Tae!”
Jeongguk chuckled beside her and Sarang giggled back, walking towards him and clutching on his leg. “I am like papa, we’re both seniors in school!”
“Your papa is great, isn’t he?” Taehyung asked. Jeongguk knew Taehyung was asking Sarang but he couldn’t help but feel like he’s watched. When he glanced at Taehyung he wasn’t even wrong when he saw the older man staring at him with something that can be related to fondness. Or was he endeared? He wasn’t looking like he’s judging Jeongguk and Jeongguk shouldn’t feel worried, since Taehyung has long learned about Jeongguk’s life.
“Papa taught me the word ambi-shoes,” Sarang said, tiny hands clutched at the hem at the side of Jeongguk’s pants.
“That’s a big word!” Jimin praised, giggling and bouncing at the ball of his shoes.
“It is and papa taught me,” the little girl continued. Jeongguk liked that she’s proud of him but sometimes it’s all too much and he can’t help but feel get even shier.
“You’re so smart,” Jimin fed her ego, sincere and genuine. Sarang tucked her face on Jeongguk’s thigh and shook her head.
“Uncle Joonie says I am smart,” Sarang shyly declared. “It is because papa is smart too!”
The luck Jeongguk had just landed on folded ten-fold in his heart. He’s blessed with someone so young, so little, so frail—so proud of him even if he’d doubted himself a lot of times.
The rest of the afternoon was spent shopping. They had to separate with Taehyung after a few more chit-chats. Sarang was already focused on the mission on hand, selecting a purple dress for her when Jimin told Taehyung they need to go to the school and get his papers settled.
Apparently, Jimin’s a teacher and just landed a job in Seoul. He’s originally from Busan and Jeongguk grinned that they came from the same province. It’s been so long since he’d met someone from Busan again.
On the evening that they spent dinner in front of the television, feasting on takeout pizza, Jeongguk couldn’t stop staring at Taehyung’s soft calls of Your papa is great, isn’t he while eyeing the faded purple bunny on his skin.
“Sa-ra-ngie, Sa-ra-ngie,” Yoongi’s knowing yet playful voice echoed around the instant noodles section of the grocery store. It’s the voice he used back when Jeongguk did something bad, it’s the same voice he’s using for his daughter. Hoseok and Seokjin were manning the cashier while Jeongguk was busy transferring boxes from the storage room to the back room with the help of another employee. Yoongi was obviously in charge of babysitting while trying his best to help assemble the instant noodles on their proper shelf. Sarang was his little assistant.
“Uncle Yoonie,” Sarang giggled. She’s running back to her and wrapping her arms on his back, with chest heaving heavily. She’s planning to wander to the other aisle but it’s the number rule and only rule Sarang has to obey. She’s not allowed to go to places without her father or any of his uncles holding her hand. Yoongi caught her in his peripherals just on time. Yoongi twisted his head so he could playfully munch on Sarang’s arm.
“What did we say about exploring on your own, even inside the grocery store?”
“Not to do it,” Sarang replied softly. She swayed them both, Yoongi going along and she laughed when Yoongi munched on her arm again.
“Not to do it,” Yoongi parroted. “And yet just 10 seconds ago you wanted to go the bean paste section.”
Sarang only pressed a kiss on Yoongi’s cheek, tiptoeing at her best so she could reach.
“Sorry, uncle Yoonie.”
Yoongi only hummed and continued stacking instant noodles on the shelf. Moments later, Sarang asked:
“Uncle Yoonie, you’re a teacher, right?”
Yoongi snorted at the curiosity seeping out of his niece. “Yes, I am. Why the sudden question, baby?”
Sarang only pressed her forehead on his shoulder blade and rocked them again.
“You have two jobs?” Sarang asked all of a sudden. “We learned in school people in the community. And people have different jobs. But what do I call you uncle Yoonie?”
Yoongi tsked when Sarang started fiddling at the collar of his shirt. Sarang’s always been so inquisitive when she’s learned something new. He mentally cursed at his boyfriend for teaching a lot of things to his niece.
See, even if Yoongi’s an acclaimed Sociology professor in the university both he and Namjoon work at, he would savor all the free time he could get. He’s insanely smart but equally lazy and it’s Namjoon who makes sure that he doesn’t get reprimanded from the academe. But since Yoongi’s one of the best Sociology professors in the university, they couldn’t just let him go.
“What do you mean, what do you call me?” Yoongi asked, turning around and reaching the small low-stool beside him. He’d forego using the stool a while ago, having to stand up and crouch down stacking instant noodles. Sarang’s thoughts were so loud that he just had to stop with the task and talk to her favorite girl.
“You call me uncle Yoonie,” Yoongi said, pulling the little girl and settling her on his lap. Sarang pulled away, finding so much energy bubbling inside her small body. Instead, she hikes her elbows on Yoongi’s knees and sways between Yoongi’s legs. Yoongi wrapped a hand around her tiny waist.
“What do you do?”
“I am a teacher.”
“But you work here,” Sarang pressed and Yoongi cackled at the frustrated look painted on her face.
“I play and help here. This is our playground,” Yoongi told her. Sarang only tilted her head to the side, too much for Yoongi’s liking so he quickly cupped the side of her head and pushed it upright.
“This is not a playground,” Sarang whined. “This is a grocery store, uncle Yoon!”
Yoongi laughed again and pulled Sarang by cupping her head with both hands. He pressed a wet smack of lips on her forehead and Sarang groaned before belting out into a tiny giggle.
“You didn’t answer me,” Sarang said, clinging into Yoongi. Her frame is bent like a flimsy skewer parallel to the floor.
“What’s gotten into you, baby,” Yoongi mumbled. “You’re acting like a detective.”
“Detective?” Sarang pulled away and wondered at the word. Yoongi almost winced when he had to explain a new word to his niece. It’s a good thing however that they saw her father heading his way followed by Taehyung and another man that Yoongi had never met.
Sarang, on the other hand, knew the person. She leaped out of Yoongi’s space and dashed to the three men. She stood before the stranger and turned around to call for Yoongi. Yoongi admired how his little niece would never let anyone feel left out. Yoongi stood up and approached them carefully. Jeongguk was smiling widely, Yoongi almost thought his face would split in two. He looked so disgustingly endeared to the tattoo artist before him.
“Uncle Yoon! This is teacher Jimin!”
Yoongi blinked at Jimin – the stranger, the teacher – and bowed his head down meekly. Jimin did the same and Sarang erupted from giggles, already toying at the heart-shaped charm hanging by Taehyung’s bag.
“I guess, you’re Sarang’s teacher in the daycare,” Yoongi mused and Jimin smiled, eyes crinkling at the sides.
After Sarang’s first day in school, Hoseok picked her up, and together they went to the grocery where her father was already working. Her father was busy aligning the apples and tangerines on the storefront but she’s excited to announce the great news.
“My teacher is teacher Jimin, Papa! Tae tae’s best friend!”
Jeongguk had grinned widely, yet again, at the joy and delight in the voice of his daughter. It’s been a month and Jeongguk would always witness the delighted face of his daughter every time they’d meet in the grocery. Jimin must’ve been really a great teacher.
“That I am,” Jimin affirmed, running his palms on his sweater.
Jeongguk bent down to fix Sarang’s apron and the sleeve of her shirt. It’s slowly getting cold, Jeongguk reminded himself to bundle her in a sweater tomorrow for school.
“Have you been helping Yoongi-hyung?” Jeongguk asked, standing up straight and running his hand on Sarang’s hair. They’re both sporting black long hair now, almost like twins and Sarang loved to play with his locks for a few minutes every morning.
“I did, but only a little bit,” Sarang said honestly.
“Little Sarang wanted to explore on her own in the bean paste aisle,” Yoongi revealed. Jeongguk gasped and furrowed his brows. He knelt before his daughter and pushed her bangs.
“What was your only rule, baby?” Jeongguk asked, voice soft yet firm all the same.
“Not to go alone, with papa or uncle,” Sarang replied. She toyed as the hem of her apron and looked at Jeongguk straight into the eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Jeongguk smiled and opened his arms for her to leap at. Jeongguk picked her up and faced Jimin again.
“Teacher Jimin, you’re a teacher right?”
Jimin giggled and nodded.
“Tae Tae is a manager, right?”
Taehyung chuckled deeply at the description, his shoulders shaking. “You could say that I am a manager but I am a tattoo artist.”
Sarang pouted for a moment, deep in thought.
“Tae Tae has two jobs? Just like uncle Yoonie?”
Now, it’s Taehyung who’s his brows furrowed deep in thought.
“Yoongi-hyung has two jobs?” Taehyung asked, pitching the question at the elder. Yoongi snorted and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I am a college professor but Sarang’s wondering why I am also working here.”
“Oh!” Jimin realized. “It’s because we discussed people of the community in class today.”
“Papa works here, so he’s a grocery man. Teacher Jimin is a teacher but Tae Tae and uncle Yoonie have two jobs, what do I call them?”
Jeongguk laughed at the statement and kissed the temple of his daughter.
“What makes you think uncle Yoonie and Tae Tae have two jobs baby?”
Sarang shrugged, lolling her head in the crook of Jeongguk’s neck and shoulder.
“They’re ambi-shoes, I guess,” the little girl declared. It earned fits of laughter echoing in the instant noodles aisle of the grocery. Jeongguk pressed another kiss to the crown of her head and he felt Taehyung’s eyes boring at him again. When he did look at Taehyung, he giggled and grinned widely at the tattoo artist who was grinning just as wide at him.
Later when Jimin was checking out by the counter with their grocery items, Yoongi stayed behind the store, mumbling about taking a nap, Jeongguk who still has Sarang but was already asleep in his arms, found himself standing before Taehyung.
“The purple bunny is no longer there,” Taehyung pointed out sheepishly.
Jeongguk’s eyes landed on the clear skin on his forearm and nodded absentmindedly.
Jeongguk’s arms were already littered with so many tattoos, all courtesy of his daughter’s craft. They’re all broken lines, attempts on perfecting a drawing of an animal, a little chick, a kite, puppies, and even their favorite carton of banana milk. It’s a mess of doodles on his skin but Jeongguk wouldn’t have it any other way.
He’s also lucky that Taehyung had respected her daughter’s drawings and made it all come to life, perfectly so, but Jeongguk wouldn’t admit it. He’s not as bubbly as his daughter. Hoseok has taught a lot of mingling skills to Sarang that most of the time, it bewildered her own father.
“I was planning to get it done,” Jeongguk chuckled, covering his laughter with the back of his hand. “But the opening of the semester spooked me a bit.”
Taehyung nodded, lips pursed in a comforting manner. He looked straight into Jeongguk’s eyes and smiled.
“You know you’re free to drop by anytime,” Taehyung told him. He reached out a hand and wrapped it around Jeongguk’s nearest arm.
And the thing is, Jeongguk felt his skin burn. In a great way, the best way—the only way he knew he needed but he just started into Taehyung eyes and smiled sweetly. He knew no one in his hyungs would judge him for trying to take the leap, but the thing the bothered him the most was that if ever—
“You’re worth the wait anyway,” Taehyung said, smile sincere yet loud. Jeongguk could hear the blood running in his ears, could feel the loud thump of his heart beating, and could feel the sweat at the back of his neck getting cold. He’s hyperaware of everything, Sarang’s soft sounds in his skin, the way Taehyung massaged his arm lovingly, and the white noise that surrounded around but the three of them.
He watched as Taehyung reached for the collar of Sarang’s shirt and fixed it. He watched as the same hand reached closer to his face and poked the tip of his nose. He watched as the older giggled when he scrunched his nose.
Taehyung bid goodbye after that, with Jimin waving at Seokjin and Hoseok like they’ve been friends for so long.
Jeongguk’s cheeks remained warm until the moment he laid in bed, Sarang climbing at him like she always does when they retire for bed.
The conversation about the people of the community didn’t stop and was only heightened on the day Jeongguk had decided to go to Taehyung’s tattoo shop. Being it a Saturday afternoon, Jeongguk didn’t have class or work. Being it a weekend, none of her uncles could play and babysit and when Jeongguk confirmed with Taehyung that he’s going to bring Sarang with him, Taehyung only chirped happily.
So the pair went and was welcomed by a too enthusiastic Kim Taehyung. The tattoo artist who’s never inked himself for reasons unknown. Jeongguk had once asked the older about keeping his skin ink-free. Taehyung had only shrugged and told him that he hadn’t thought of a design yet.
“Tae Tae,” Sarang asked, jumping on the balls of her feet. She’s wearing a soft-textured pink sweater that her uncle Jinnie had gotten for her. Her blank tights are cuffed, revealing her dainty ankles. She had specifically chosen this attire because of reasons Jeongguk had yet to unravel.
“Will you be my show and tell community person on Thursday?”
Jeongguk was sitting on the leathered couch, arm on display under the white lamplight. The question came in a full blow, making the two adults blink at her in surprise. Taehyung had just finished cleaning the skin, even shaving the soft little hair to make it neat.
“Baby,” Jeongguk began but Sarang only pouted at her.
“I know you have school papa, you’re a senior rem’ber?”
Jeongguk nodded dumbly but pouted back at her.
“But you couldn’t just ask Tae Tae to go with you,” Jeongguk whined. He heard Taehyung let out a small chuckle but he paid it no mind.
The thing was, Sarang wasn’t even throwing a fit or being too demanding. She was polite and very considerate that which made Jeongguk all turn into mush on the leather couch.
“And all uncles are busy,” Sarang trailed again. She walked towards them and wiggled herself on his lap. She sat in a behaved manner, tucked her legs close just as his uncle Hoseok had kept reminding her. She didn’t wiggle on his lap just as his uncle Namjoon told her a billion times. She looked at Jeongguk with puppy eyes and that—that’s new.
“You learned that from your teacher, didn’t you?”
Jeongguk looked beside him and noticed that Taehyung was fighting the urge to throw a smirk at his daughter.
“Learned what?” Jeongguk asked.
Taehyung shook his head with a smile and pointed when Sarang pursed her lips in an exaggerated pout and blinked her eyes.
Jeongguk belted out a laugh. He’s certain that was something he learned not from her uncles. The pout could be from Yoongi but this one’s different, almost persistent yet awfully sweet all the same.
“But, honey,” Jeongguk tried to counter. “I can make time for you, you know that, right?”
Sarang only nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I know papa, but you have a test on Thursday. Says so in the fridge!”
Jeongguk mentally groaned at the realization that indeed, he has a test on Thursday. He looked at Sarang’s head crown and pulled the little girl gingerly off him.
“It’s only this Thursday?”
Sarang looked up at him and nodded. “Everyone else will bring someone and I have to bring someone, too.”
Jeongguk nodded back but hesitated when he can feel the older man’s eyes boring at him. Instead, he focused his gaze on Sarang’s sweater.
“Is that why you’re wearing your best shirt?” Jeongguk playfully teased, poking at Sarang’s tummy.
Sarang giggled and tucked her face back into Jeongguk’s chest, trying her best to cover her tummy. Taehyung giggled beside them and when Sarang pulled away, tiny hands around her father’s teasing forefinger, she looked at Taehyung with wide orbs.
“Please, Tae Tae, be with me on Thursday,” Sarang said politely and seriously. The two adults, however, couldn’t stop themselves from giggling at how Sarang said the request with rhyme.
Jeongguk eyes Taehyung on top of Sarang’s head, almost too wary to ask, careful and full of doubt. They’re friends, alright, but never in a million years, he’d asked Taehyung to actually do things for Sarang. It’s true that Taehyung had babysat Sarang a couple of times, but the number of times he actually minded Sarang didn’t exceed the number of fingers in his one hand.
He knew Taehyung has always been so patient and sweet with his daughter but that wasn’t the deal. The deal was—whatever was the deal, to begin with anyway?
Jeongguk saw Taehyung eyed him back, gaze soft and always so warm that whenever Jeongguk tried his best to peer into them deeply, he thinks he might get lost in them.
The thing is, he wanted Taehyung. Bad. But he’s got a lot of issues to deal with, issues about himself. He’s changed, still changing and willingly he does, but those things didn’t feel enough to satiate the worry the filter through his head thought after thought, minute by minute, day by day.
And what’s even more devastating was that every time he’s swallowed into his thoughts of being unfit, incapable and someone who’s wrong, Taehyung was there, albeit fleeting and surprising, the older man has always been there.
He saw Taehyung leaning closer and propping an elbow on the armchair where his arm was nestled. He felt his warmth seeping through even under the layers of his skin, like fuel that adds to the fire that his flowing blood had made. It’s electrifying, magical, and just different. It's so different that when Taehyung perched his chin atop his palm and reached in to ruffle Sarang’s hair and then his hair, he let out a sharp intake of breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“If your papa would allow me, I’d love to be your show and tell the person for Thursday,” he said, pulling his hand away and placing it on Jeongguk’s right thigh. Jeongguk felt the hand squeeze him in a manner that’s too comforting and he can’t help but fall even more.
For three years he’d pined for this man; had stolen enough glances inside the tattoo shop. For three years he’d longed and kept it in him, knowing too well—scared for the limits he’s come crossed with and yet—
Taehyung was nothing but a fresh breath of air, the softest breeze to ever touch any mimosa plant—touch so soft that petals never shied away—like Jeongguk didn’t feel the urge to shy away. Taehyung had always been so understanding and words of—
You’re enough, you’re worth the wait
—played on his head on repeat.
In the end, both adults surrendered to the little girl and agreed with her plea.
Taehyung mentioned getting the details later and Sarang promised to inform teacher Jimin about her showcase. When Taehyung laughed, Jeongguk knew that that seemed pointless since Taehyung and Jimin were best friends. For sure, Jimin would find out even before Monday arrived, yet the older man only nodded and saluted at the little girl.
Right after the small conversation, Taehyung handed the safe marker and handed it to the little girl. Like how she’s used to, like a routine of some sort, Sarang uncapped the marker and held on to her father’s arm.
She’s always been inside the store a couple of times, only started drawing comfortably in front of Taehyung but right now she looked like she was in full control of herself. She’s proper, almost too serious, professional even at the way she started doodling a picture of a bunny with an evil smirk on her father’s skin.
Taehyung was throwing praises at her, indulging and motivating her that Sarang hummed in glee.
An hour later, Sarang has already fast asleep on the couch behind the main counter, covered in Taehyung’s blanket and snoring softly. It was only a small bunny shaded in pink and outlined in dark violet. The smirk was evident and almost too cartoonish but Jeongguk told Taehyung that he liked it.
I like you, he wanted to say, but he’s more than satisfied with admiring the new tattoo that completed his tattoo sleeve and the man who’s smiling widely at him.