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“He’s going to be upset with us.”
Taehyung murmured the sentence, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.
Jungkook pulled it out gently. “Don’t do that. And don’t think like that, either. He’s not going to be upset with us. We’re just worried about him.”
“Yeah, but he’s not going to think of it that way.” Taehyung looked at him with wide eyes, already filled with concern. “He’s going to look at it like we invaded his privacy. Which we did , Jungkook. Parents aren’t supposed to go through their kids’ rooms. Everyone knows that.”
“They are if their kid is skipping school and hanging out with the wrong crowd,” Jungkook said firmly. “You were at the same meeting with his principal as me, baby. You know what’s at stake here. If we don’t do something now, Yeonjun could end up in serious trouble. If going through his things can prevent—”
“You went through my things?”
They both turned their heads sharply. At the sight of their fourteen year old son standing in the doorway, hands already balled into angry fists, the couple winced.
“Yeonjunnie,” Taehyung said hesitantly, taking a small step forward. “You’re home early. We thought—”
“You had no fucking right to do that,” the teenager seethed, interrupting sharply. “I don’t go through your shit, do I? This is exactly why I wanted locks on my door.”
Jungkook clenched his jaw. “Don’t curse. And we do have the right, actually. We had a meeting with your principal today.”
Yeonjun snorted. “Oh, awesome. What’d the dickhead tell you?”
“Don’t—” Jungkook shook his head, sighing and quickly giving up. “He said you’ve been skipping class. And the group of kids you’re hanging out with now are troublemakers.”
“Troublemakers?” Yeonjun crossed his arms. “Dad, you sound old as fuck when you talk like that.”
Taehyung crossed the room, ignoring the way the teenager groaned when he cupped his face.
“Sweetheart,” he said softly. “Please, just talk to us. You didn’t used to be like this. What’s been going on with you? What happened to the sweet Yeonjunnie who told us everything?”
Yeonjun’s expression hardened as he swatted Taehyung’s hands away from him in irritation.
“He grew up,” he snapped. “And stop touching me like that all the time. I don’t want any of that gay shit near me anymore.”
Taehyung inhaled sharply.
Jungkook couldn’t see his husband’s face, but he didn’t need to look at it to know exactly how heartbroken his expression must have looked.
“That’s…” Taehyung’s voice sounded strained. “You don’t have to phrase it like that.”
Yeonjun’s eyes could have cut steel. “I meant it exactly how it sounded.”
Taehyung swallowed. “Baby—”
“Stop calling me that!” The teenager threw his hands up, groaning. “Stop babying me. I hate it. I hate the way you treat me.”
The words were like a slap to the face, making Taehyung flinch. “What?”
“It’s one thing to have gay dads,” Yeonjun’s continued in irritation. “I already get bullied enough for that shit. But then you have to be so—so fucking extra . You’re so sensitive and annoying. I hate it when you come pick me up. I get so embarrassed by you all the time.”
Jungkook gritted his teeth. “Yeonjun—”
“Why can’t you at least have tattoos and ride a bike or something manly, like Dad? Do you have to be so fucking—”
“That’s enough !” Jungkook interjected coldly. “Go to your room. Now.”
Yeonjun glared at him. “Or what?”
Jungkook could barely hear him over the sound of Taehyung sniffling. It was quiet, but to him, it drowned out everything else.
“Go to your room,” he said flatly. “Or get out of this house and come back when you’re ready to apologize.”
The silence that blanketed the room felt alarmingly loud.
Taehyung turned back to look at him, shocked. “J-Jungkook—”
Jungkook hadn’t broken eye contact with their son. “I’m not going to repeat myself.”
Yeonjun stared at him for a few seconds longer, clearly in disbelief.
He finally left the room after a few moments, dragging his feet and muttering under his breath. The sound of his bedroom door slamming shut echoed through the house.
Taehyung waited until he’d gone to let his tears flow freely.
“Don’t,” Jungkook whispered. He was already by his side, tucking him against his chest and wrapping his arms around his trembling figure tightly. “Please don’t cry, baby. You know how much it breaks my heart.”
“I didn’t know,” Taehyung stammered, the words muffled against his chest. “I didn’t realize I was the one making things so hard for him. It’s all my fault.”
“He’s projecting,” Jungkook murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple. “He didn’t mean any of that. He wanted to hurt you, and he did.”
Taehyung shook his head. The front of Jungkook’s shirt was already damp, he was crying so hard.
“He hates me,” he whispered, and Jungkook didn’t think he’d ever heard his husband sound so heartbroken. “Our son hates me.”
For the first time in a long time, Jungkook didn’t know how to help.
He didn’t know if he could.
*
The next morning, the atmosphere in the house was tense.
When Yeonjun walked into the kitchen, Jungkook paused at the sight of him.
For a very small moment, he almost wished he could act upon the anger he felt. That he could be a person first, for once–instead of a parent.
But that wasn’t how it worked, and he knew that. So instead, he very begrudgingly served a plate of waffles to the teenager after he’d sat at the table.
Yeonjun waited until he had taken a seat across from him to clear his throat.
“Where’s Appa?”
The chair that was usually filled with the brightest, more cheerful presence in their house was empty.
Jungkook’s jaw tightened. “He left for work early.”
Yeonjun pressed his lips together, seemingly avoiding his gaze. “Oh,” he muttered.
“I’m dropping you off today,” Jungkook continued stiffly. “And I’m staying until I watch you walk into the building. If I get another call saying you’ve been skipping, Yeonjun—”
“You won’t,” the teenager mumbled around a mouthful of food.
Jungkook was silent for a moment as he watched him. He seemed much more subdued than he had the past few weeks. That irritation was still there, that protective shell of teenage angst he’d built up ever present. But he seemed meeker. More regretful.
With a sigh, Jungkook threw out most of their uneaten breakfast before they left the house.
The waffles didn’t taste right.
*
When Jungkook came home from work later that night, Yeonjun was in the kitchen.
He raised his eyebrows at the sight of the table neatly set with dishes and silverware, slowing to a stop in front of it.
“Hey,” he said, nodding at his son. “How was school?”
Yeonjun chewed his bottom lip, looking nervous. “Fine. Boring.”
“Did you go to all your classes?”
“Uh huh.”
“Good. That’s good.”
An awkward silence settled over the room before Yeonjun finally cleared his throat.
“Um, you can wash up and then come eat, if you want. I made pasta.”
Jungkook felt his eyebrows lift. “You cooked?”
Pink flushed the fourteen year old’s cheeks. “I was making it for myself, anyways,” he muttered. “I just made a little extra.”
It seemed like more than a little, Jungkook thought, taking notice of the salad and bread on the table, but he knew better than to comment on it.
He nodded. “Sure. Just let me shower.”
“Can you—” Yeonjun spoke up quickly, making him pause in his steps. “Um. Can you tell Appa…to come, too? Please.”
Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed. “Did he—is he home?”
Yeonjun’s expression was hard to read, but the intense regret behind his eyes was a dead giveaway for what he was feeling.
“He got back like an hour ago,” he said quietly. “But he went straight into the bedroom.”
Jungkook felt his features soften at the look on his son’s face. He gave him a small, what he hoped to be a reassuring smile.
“Sure. I’ll let him know.”
Yeonjun sighed with relief, his returning smile a grateful one.
When Jungkook walked into their bedroom, he wasn’t sure if he expected to find Taehyung sulking or not. Instead, his husband was sitting cross-legged on their bed, humming to himself as he typed.
He brightened up at the sight of him.
“Hi, baby! When did you get in?”
“Just a few minutes ago.” Jungkook crossed the room to give him a kiss. “You?”
“An hour, I think.” Taehyung’s smile was sweet. Normal. “Are you hungry? I can heat up some leftovers from yesterday.”
Jungkook exhaled, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “Actually, um…Yeonjunnie cooked, believe it or not. He made pasta.”
He could have been imagining it, but the edges of Taehyung’s smile dimmed ever so slightly.
“Did he?” Just like that, his husband’s focus seemed to have returned to his laptop. “That’s nice.”
“Mm.” Jungkook watched him for a moment, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek as he tried to word the sentence properly. “He actually made enough for all of us. He told me to come get you, too. You want to…um, go out together? After I shower?”
Taehyung didn’t even blink. “I’m okay, baby. I ate at work.”
Jungkook grimaced. “Okay. You can’t just…um, do you want to try coming out for a bit, anyways? Just to see how things go? I think he feels bad about yesterday. This might be his way of apologizing.”
When his husband finally looked at him, it was with a fire in his eyes Jungkook recognized all too well.
After all, he’d just seen it in his son's eyes just yesterday.
“I’m fine, Jungkookie,” he said firmly. “You can go. I have to finish this.”
Jungkook sighed, choosing his next words carefully. “You can’t ignore him forever, love. He’s your son.”
Taehyung’s fingers flew as he typed, just a touch more aggressive than he’d been a moment ago. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not ignoring anyone.”
“It seems that way, Taehyungie,” Jungkook said softly. “And it’s going to seem that way to him if you don’t come out. I know it sucks, but we’re the adults here. We’re his parents. As much as what he said was horrible, we have to be the ones to let it go.”
“I’m not—” Taehyung cut himself off when he realized the words had come out as a yell, pausing and taking a deep breath before starting over. “I’m not mad at him,” he continued quietly. “I just can’t…look at him, okay? When I do, I just think about how much he hates me. I think about how I love him more than I love myself, and I think about how much he hates me .”
Jungkook’s throat tightened, the action of swallowing painful. “Baby,” he whispered. “Taehyungie, that’s not—”
“Just—” Taehyung’s voice climbed again, and he cut himself off, gritting his teeth. “Just go. Please. I don’t want to argue about this right now.”
“Tae, I—”
“ Jungkook ,” his husband snapped, eyes ablaze. “Go. Seriously. I’m not going to change my mind.”
Jungkook flinched a little, not at all accustomed to his usually soft spoken husband sounding so angry.
He couldn’t help himself, inching a bit closer to him on the bed. “Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll go. I’m sorry for pushing it.”
Taehyung let out a breath. “It’s fine,” he finally said, the words softer. “I’m fine.”
He didn’t sound like he meant it.
When Jungkook went back outside, Yeonjun was already sitting at the table. His shoulders were slumped, lips pressed together as he spun spaghetti onto his fork aimlessly.
He glanced up at Jungkook, deflating a little at the sight of him approaching alone.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I figured he wouldn’t come. I heard you guys yelling.”
“We weren’t yelling,” Jungkook replied evenly, pulling his chair out.
Yeonjun’s jaw was clenched as he glared down at his plate. “Appa probably hates me now, doesn’t he?“
Idly, Jungkook wondered why none of the parenting books he’d read in the past fourteen years had ever prepared him for this.
He took a bite of food, chewing slowly to give himself some time before setting his fork down.
“He doesn’t hate you,” he finally said. “He could never hate you, Yeonjun.”
The fourteen year old looked at him, throat moving as he swallowed hard. His eyes finally flickered away, but not before Jungkook caught the slight dampness to them.
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” he whispered.
Jungkook could only sigh, already exhausted. “Don’t worry too much. Things will be fine.”
*
Things were not fine.
Jungkook had seen Taehyung ice people out before. He had the highest threshold for patience of anyone he knew—but once he reached his limit, there was no coming back.
Jungkook had just never imagined he’d do it to their own son .
It was a Friday night, a week after what Jungkook was now referring to as The Fight. The couple was curled up on the living room couch with a blanket over their knees and a bowl of popcorn between them, ready to watch a movie.
At the sound of the front door unlocking, Taehyung tensed.
Jungkook raised his eyebrows at the sight of Yeonjun walking into the living room, reaching for the remote to pause the movie.
“Hey. You’re home early. I thought you were going to your friend’s house?”
The teenager shrugged, looking awkward. “Yeah. But they wanted to smoke, so I came home instead.”
Jungkook’s lips parted in surprise.
“Oh,” he said finally. “Well, that’s…good. Good. Thank you for not smoking with them.”
“You’re welcome,” Yeonjun muttered. He looked at the tv, hesitating. “What are you guys watching?”
Jungkook glanced at Taehyung. He was staring at the tv as well, studiously avoiding both their gazes.
“We were about to start a movie,” Jungkook said carefully. “You want to watch?”
Yeonjun was quiet, finally looking at Taehyung. As if waiting— hoping —for him to give him his approval.
When he didn’t say anything, Yeonjun lowered himself reluctantly onto the armchair beside them anyways. “Sure. If you guys don’t mind.”
Jungkook smiled slightly. “Of course not. Do you want any popcorn?”
Before he could respond, Taehyung was suddenly moving the blanket off himself.
“Actually, I’m kind of beat,” he said. “You guys go ahead and watch without me. I think I’m going to go to bed early tonight.”
Yeoonjun’s face fell.
Jungkook closed his eyes tightly in frustration. “Really, Tae?”
“Really.” His husband met his gaze unflinchingly. “Goodnight.”
He left without another word, not even sparing Yeonjun a glance. An awkward silence settled over the room.
Yeonjun sank deeper into his chair. “He’s still pissed at me,” he said softly.
Jungkook sighed. “What you said really hurt his feelings. It’s going to take him some time to get over it.”
“But he won’t even give me the chance to apologize,” Yeonjun argued, frustrated. “How am I supposed to say sorry when he leaves if I’m in the room for longer than a second?”
Jungkook was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know,” he finally said, defeated. “I’m sorry, Yeonjunnie. I don’t know how to help here. This is really hard for me, too, being caught in between the two of you like this.”
The teenager was silent. He sulked, arms crossed as he pouted down at the floor.
After a few seconds, he heaved a sigh. “Can I come sit with you?”
Jungkook tried to hide his surprise. Yeonjun had been a cuddler when he was a kid, but those years had long since passed.
It was a testament to how vulnerable he must have been feeling at that moment.
Lifting the edge of the blanket, Jungkook smiled. “Yeah. Come here.”
Yeonjun fell asleep curled into his side halfway through the movie. Jungkook stared down at him with the ridiculous urge to cry, so frustrated at the entire situation.
He loved his son and his husband both. And he knew they loved each other, too.
He didn’t understand why, with all of that being true, everything else had to be so complicated.
*
It all came to a boiling point a week later.
Taehyung was in the kitchen, in the middle of making dinner. Jungkook was at the table, working on an assignment he’d been forced to bring home from work.
Yeonjun must have been waiting for a moment when they were both together, likely one where Taehyung wouldn’t be able to escape so easily, either. With the stove on and Jungkook’s attention elsewhere, it was the ideal situation for a confrontation.
And that’s exactly how Yeonjun approached it.
He slammed his textbook onto the kitchen table, startling both Jungkook and Taehyung.
Jungkook frowned at him. “What’s wrong?”
“I need Appa’s help with math,” he said firmly.
Taehyung’s back stiffened, still facing the stove.
Jungkook leaned back in his chair, genuinely impressed with their son. He knew math was the one subject Jungkook couldn’t help him with, barely having been able to pass it in highschool himself. For as long as Yeonjun had been in school, Taehyung had always helped him with math.
Now, however—
“I’m making dinner, Yeonjun,” Taehyung said stiffly.
“I can wait.” The teenager crossed his arms stubbornly. “We can do it after.”
Taehyung’s lips pressed together as he stirred the pot in front of him aggressively. “I have to do laundry after.”
“Appa,” Yeonjun said, the words desperate. “I’m failing . If I don’t do well on this quiz, I might have to stay back.”
Jungkook watched Taehyung’s shoulders tense. He held his breath, wondering if this was what would finally make him break.
Instead, his husband moved towards the countertop to begin cutting vegetables. “Well, you should have thought of that earlier.”
Jungkook winced as Yeonjun’s mouth fell open.
To no one's surprise, the teenager’s voice instantly climbed to a yell. “Are you serious? You’re acting like such a kid right now!”
Taehyung’s jaw was tight as he chopped a carrot, working methodically. “Don’t raise your voice at me, Yeonjun.”
“Look.” Their son moved closer. “I’m sorry for what I said, okay? I was mad you guys went through my stuff. Dad is harder to piss off than you, so I just said stuff that I knew would hurt your feelings. But it’s been two weeks . I said I’m sorry and I won’t do it again. Can’t you just let it go already?”
Taehyung’s hands moved fast and steady as he moved onto chopping a cucumber.
“I’m not mad at you,” he said evenly. “I already forgave you.”
“You are mad,” Yeonjun said helplessly. “You won’t even look at me.”
At that, Taehyung finally looked up.
His eyes were damp, because no matter how hard Taehyung tried to act, he was soft. And no matter how strong he wanted to seem, he was hurting.
At the sight of his tears, Yeonjun took a small step back.
“I really am sorry,” he repeated weakly. “Will you please just let it go? Parents are supposed to be the mature ones, aren’t they?”
Taehyung gave a short, cold laugh. “Sure. Fuck our feelings, right? Parents are supposed to be robots.”
Yeonjun blinked at the curse word.
Catching sight of the way Taehyung’s body had tensed with a carefully controlled rage, Jungkook finally stood up from the table.
“Baby,” he said carefully. “Why don’t you let me finish dinner?”
“No, I can do it,” Taehyung snapped. He’d returned to cutting, the motions a lot sharper and angrier than before. “You don’t always have to get involved, Jungkook. I’m capable of having a conversation with my son without you, you know.”
Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed. He saw Yeonjun glance back at him, looking confused and a little scared at the sudden intense turn the conversation seemed to have taken.
“Tae,” Jungkook said hesitantly. “Maybe this is a conversation we can have later?”
“Why?” Taehyung snapped. His eyes were dark when he looked up at them, still chopping furiously. “I think we should have it now. Yeonjunnie wants us to be mature. So let’s be mature. You want me to talk to you like an adult, Yeonjun? Fine. Then I can finally tell you all about how fucking hard it was raising you.”
Jungkook inhaled sharply. “Taehyung,” he said warningly.
“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” Taehyung barreled on, the words growing hotter and louder with every syllable. “Jungkook was working full time and I stayed at home to take care of you. We lived in the shittiest one bedroom apartment you can fucking think of. There were ants and rats and cockroaches, and we could barely even afford that.”
“That’s enough,” Jungkook gritted out. He grabbed Yeonjun by the elbow. “Come on, let’s go. I don’t want you to listen to this.”
“Why not?” Taehyung was crying now, tears streaming angrily down his face. “I think he should know. He should know how hard it was for me. How I moved here and left all my family and friends back home, and I had no one but you two. I was alone.”
Yeonjun’s face was pale. He hadn’t moved, had yet to speak as he listened silently.
“And you know what?” Taehyung shook his head, looking defeated. “I didn’t even care. I had a baby. A baby that was mine , and I got to raise him. And I loved you. I still love you, Yeonjun. And it breaks my fucking heart every single time I look at you that you don’t feel the same way, because I would give you my entire life if I could.”
“Why would you think that?” Yeonjun whispered. “Of course I love you. I told you I didn’t mean those things before. I said I was sorry—”
Taehyung’s voice had grown quieter, more defeated. “You’ve always liked your dad more than me. And it never bothered me, because I thought that at least you still cared about me, even if it was in a different way. But you talk to me now like you wish I didn’t even exist. You get so angry when I touch you. Some days I feel like I can’t even talk to you without it turning into a fight.”
“I-I—that’s not…” Yeonjun looked at Jungkook as if to ask for help, tears in his eyes. “That’s not true. I don’t hate you. Appa, if I made you feel like that, then I’m sorry, but that’s not how I feel. I swear .”
Jungkook tightened his jaw. “Okay, that’s enough. I’m going to finish dinner and then we can all sit down and talk about this later. Calmly .”
“Sure.” Taehyung scoffed. “Get involved again, Jungkookie. God forbid we have a discussion without you stepping in.”
Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at him. “What are you doing?” he said quietly, genuinely hurt. “Why are you trying to pick a fight?”
Taehyung opened his mouth to speak, but he cut himself off with a pained cry, eyes widening.
He’d finally moved too fast, still chopping while he yelled, and the knife slipped out of his hand. Blood covered the cutting board fast, pooling at a terrifying rate.
Jungkook was by his side in an instant, carefully pulling the knife out and placing it in the sink. “This looks deep,” he said, worried. “Yeonjun, get me the first aid kit.”
The teenager nodded, quickly sprinting out of the room.
“Tae,” Jungkook said softly, pressing his lips comfortingly to his husband’s temple. “Let’s sit down, baby. You might start to feel lightheaded after losing this much blood.”
“I don’t want to,” Taehyung muttered stubbornly.
Jungkook gritted his teeth. “Stop acting like this. What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing,” Taehyung hissed. “I don’t need to sit down. I don’t care if…” He trailed off then, and it was with a sinking feeling that Jungkook noticed how pale he’d grown.
Not waiting for approval anymore, he swept the other male into his arms bridal style, carrying him to the living room.
Taehyung didn’t protest. He didn’t say anything when he was placed onto the couch, either, simply grimacing a little. Yeonjun finally reappeared with the first aid kit in hand. He crouched next to Jungkook, the two of them kneeling on the floor with Taehyung laid out across the couch.
“Yeonjun, apply pressure to the cut, okay? Use this gauze. If it doesn’t stop bleeding after a few minutes, then it’s too deep and he might need stitches.”
Yeonjun nodded, swallowing nervously as he pressed a piece of gauze to the injury.
Taehyung clicked his tongue in disapproval, trying weakly to pull away.
Jungkook glared at him. “Seriously? Even now, you’re going to—”
“I don’t want him to get blood on himself,” his husband interrupted, voice strained. “It makes him queasy. Look at his face.”
Sure enough, Yeonjun’s expression was green when Jungkook turned to look at him. He set his jaw stubbornly, however, the hand holding the gauze tightening its grip. “I’m fine. I can do it.”
Jungkook reached out a hand. “I didn’t know. I can do it, here. Give it to me.”
“I got it,” the teenager muttered. “It’s my fault he cut himself, anyways.”
Taehyung made a sound of protest, pulling both their gazes towards him.
“That’s not true,” he said quietly. “I was being careless.”
“Actually, you were yelling at me,” Jungkook muttered.
Taehyung’s lips quirked with a shaky smile. “Yeah. That too. But you pissed me off.”
Yeonjun hummed in agreement. “We would’ve been fine if we yelled it out, you know. Did you think we’d kill each other or something?”
Jungkook’s mouth dropped open as Taehyung gave a weak laugh.
“I think he did,” he said. “He looked terrified.”
“He always gets like that when me and you fight,” Yeonjun sighed.
Taehyung pressed his lips together, eyes flickering with emotion. “Yeah. Maybe we should try to fight less, then. Stop giving your dad premature heart problems.”
“Please,” Jungkook mumbled, agreeing.
Yeonjun looked at Taehyung with a sincere expression, eyes wide with regret. “I really am sorry, Appa,” he whispered. “I don’t hate you. Really. I don’t know if you believe me, but I mean it. I don’t.”
Taehyung watched him silently. “I believe you,” he finally said, the words soft. “I’m sorry, too. You were right. I was being immature.”
“You weren’t.” Yeonjun’s eyes flashed. “I was a dick. What you said was right. Just because you’re a parent doesn’t mean you don’t have feelings, too.”
“Still,” Taehyung sighed. He grimaced as Yeonjun swapped the blood soaked gauze for a fresh one. “I shouldn’t have told you all those things. Kids shouldn’t know stuff like that about their parents.”
Yeonjun frowned. “Why not? I’m glad you told me. I forget sometimes that you guys are people, too. It’s hard to remember you had lives before me.”
“Wow, thanks,” Jungkook huffed.
Taehyung gave him a small smile. “Shut up.”
Yeonjun was smiling faintly, too. “I’m serious. I didn’t even know you guys lived in an apartment before this.”
“We lived entire lives before you, Yeonjunnie,” Jungkook said, amused. “We both had friends. Teachers, relationships, parents. Just like you.”
“It’s weird to think about you as anything other than my dads,” Yeonjun admitted, sounding guilty.
Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “You know, it’s funny. All the stuff you said about your Appa two weeks ago really made me laugh. If you’d met him when he was young, Yeonjun, you wouldn’t have recognized him.”
Taehyung’s cheeks were starting to regain some color. He flushed at the statement, glaring at him. “Jungkookie, stop it.”
Jungkook was grinning. “Why? I thought we were sharing our lives with our son.” He cleared his throat loudly. “Did you know Taehyung held the record for most suspensions by a single student in our highschool?”
Taehyung gasped. “Stop lying! That was Jung Hoseok! I was maybe in the top three, and even that’s pushing it.”
Yeonjun’s jaw dropped. “You got suspended that much?”
Taehyung glared at his husband as Jungkook snickered.
“I wasn’t a good student in highschool,” he admitted. “But I turned it around my senior year and worked really hard so I could get into a good college.”
“He did it so we could go to the same school,” Jungkook said softly with a fond smile.
Yeonjun made a face. “Gross.”
“It’s true,” Taehyung said quietly. He’d gotten that far-away look on his face he always got when he thought about the past. “I wasn’t that great of a person before I met Jungkook. My parents and I fought a lot. I had trouble keeping my grades up. I partied too much. Typical teenager bullshit.”
“That’s crazy,” Yeonjun whispered. “I always thought Dad was the wild one.”
Taehyung laughed softly. “Your dad was an angel. Perfect grades, star art student. I don’t even know why he asked me out, to be honest. I had a terrible reputation.”
“It was all talk,” Jungkook said with a frown. “I knew you were a good person. I saw you leave a party to help a stray kitten once.”
“I was just a confused kid.” Taehyung’s smile softened around the edges, fond. “If Jungkookie hadn’t found me, I don’t know where I would have ended up, honestly.” He turned his gaze back towards Yeonjun, a wry smile twisting his lips. “Maybe that’s why I get so stressed when I see you going down the same path. I know exactly how horrible it is.”
Yeonjun frowned. “But you came out of it fine. You have a great job now. And you have Dad and a big house. So isn’t that just proof that you don’t need to worry about me?”
Taehyung was quiet, looking at his son with soft eyes. “I have you, too. Don’t forget to add that if you’re going to list all the good things in my life.”
The teenager’s shoulders fell a little, expression darkening. “I’m not really something to be proud of.”
“Don’t say stupid shit like that,” Jungkook chided, softly hitting the back of his head.
Yeonjun made a face, rubbing at the area. “It’s true,” he muttered stubbornly. “All I do is give you guys a hard time.”
“That’s what kids are for,” Taehyung said, looking a little amused. “But I didn’t realize you were so self-aware.”
Jungkook grinned. “Yeah. You know, you can actually behave anytime you want and make things easier for us, did you know that? Wild, isn’t it?”
Their son glared at the both of them, but there was no real heat behind the expression. “You’re both annoying,” he muttered. “Can we have dinner already?”
Jungkook leaned forward then, gently taking Taehyung’s hand and inspecting it. “Mm. It looks okay now. The bleeding’s gone down. Just let me bandage it and I’ll finish up dinner.”
“Or we could order out,” Yeonjun hedged, smiling innocently.
Jungkook gave him an unimpressed look. “From where?”
“Pizza?”
“Pizza.”
It was said simultaneously by two voices. Taehyung and Yeonjun both looked at each other after realizing, grins stretching across both their faces.
Jungkook sighed. “I’m outnumbered, aren’t I?”
“Yup.”
“Yup!”
And despite the fake grumbling he let out, he knew nothing would ever make him happier than the sound of his son and his husband finally agreeing on something.