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Talking to their baby cabbage was a habit Minho picked up from Chan throughout his pregnancy. Always conversing with the life constantly growing inside him gave him a sense of the most unpalpable joy a parent could ever feel. And despite the constant discomfort in his kidneys and diaphragm, the tiny kicks gave him the needed response. “You’ll like this color huh,” he mutters, looking down and rubbing a hand against his bump adorning his painter’s overalls.
Setting down the paintbrush, he sighs and sits on the old rocking chair his mother got for the breaks he needed to take while painting the nursery.
The rockwood jade walls were very pleasing to his eyes now that he was taking it all in, the mural painted by Hyunjin tying everything together and everything just seemed so fast for Minho. Not long ago he was throwing his guts up and mistaking it for food poison and now–it’ll be in 2 month’s time that he’ll bring a son home.
The little cabbage head kicks at him, making him hum in a consoling manner before patting his belly gently, “You alright there aegi-ya?” he asks.
The heavy footfalls of his husband make themselves known as he hikes up the stairs, and the moment Chan pops his head through the door, a very warm and endearing smile greets him.
“Finished already jagiya?” he asks before walking in and pressing a warm kiss on Minho’s lips.
“Yeah, just took a short break then when the paint dries I’ll assemble the bassinets and everything. How’s the kitchen?” he asks before slotting his small hands against Chan’s broad and calloused ones.
“We’re almost done, we just need to install the appliances and we can finally move out completely by next week,” he beams up at his husband before kneeling and placing his hand on Minho’s belly, “Hello baby cabbage, are you excited to see your room?” he talks in the usual high-pitched and cutesy voice.
Minho wonders if Baby Cabbage would mind if the way his Appa and Daddy spoke very differently.
He kicks in acknowledgment, making Minho suck in a breath out of discomfort before Chan kisses the spot and looks up at Minho in concern. “I’m fine,” he immediately assures before sighing and gesturing for Chan to help him up.
Complying, Chan assists Minho with one hand on his back and one enduring the bone-crushing grip he has to pull his pregnant body up. A sigh escapes him before Minho’s own hand aids his back, “Oomph, he’s getting heavier,” he mutters under his breath.
Chan presses a kiss to Minho’s temple before moving behind him, “I heard this helps sometimes,” he states before gently cupping the bottom of Minho’s belly, carefully pulling up in order to hold the baby through his stomach. A gasp and relieved sigh are emitted from Minho, slumping down on Chan’s strong chest.
“Oh wow, it does help,”
“Yeah? Just tell me when you want me to let go,”
A pleased hum is Minho’s response before Chan starts to gently caress the bottom of the bump, humming against the crown of Minho’s head, “Do we need to get groceries tomorrow?” Minho suddenly asks.
“Yeah, I think we should. The cupboards should probably be dry by tonight and I already assembled the pantry shelves,”
Minho lets out a soft snort, “And Hyunjin says we need moving men,”
Chan chuckles at the sudden dig at their younger friend. “He means well,”
“He lives too expensively,” Minho pouts while his eyes scan over the empty room, only plastic wrapped around the floors, a paintbrush and roller laid down, and a can of green paint. “I’m excited to decorate this room,”
“Mhm, you picked the cutest decorations after all,” Chan recalls, “I like the mobile personally,”
“The cutest,” Minho boasts with a cheeky smile, tilting his head to meet eyes with his husband who offers him the most loving look he’s ever seen to date. The mobile was a simple green piece, with rabbits hopping around the circumference of the mobile while leaves and carrots hung down. Minho found it while thrifting for Felix’s birthday and decided that it just had to go to their baby cabbage.
“I think I’m ready to go back to work,” Minho taps Chan’s arm who carefully releases his heavy belly. Minho could feel the weight go back making him sigh before turning and cupping Chan’s cheeks, pressing a kiss on his nose before shoving him away lightly. “Now go back to work too,”
Chan chuckles at his husband’s endearingly fickle nature before heading out of the nursery, “Aye-eye Appa,”
Minho carefully peels off the plastic wrap from the floor, bending down with one hand supporting his bump before pushing in the unassembled pieces of the baby cabbage’s cot and dresser table. With a determined stance and a baby in tow, Minho starts to unbox the cot.
After a few long minutes, he’s now sitting with his legs spread out and the wooden frame of the cot coming to life little by little. A screwdriver in hand and the manual in the other, he beams proudly at his work before looking down at his belly, “Your crib is almost done,” he informs the baby, “You’re gonna have such a kickass room, I can’t wait to see you rolling around in this bed,” he giggles before feeling a rather light tap of baby cabbage’s foot against him.
“That’s right,” he hums before turning the cot frame around to install the supporting pegs, “Grow up well and healthily inside there,” he quietly wishes before going back to work, a gentle smile settled on his features.
𓇼˚₊‧꒰ა 🫧 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
“All dairy pasteurized, thoroughly baked, and definitely comforting,” Felix lowers the plate of warm cookies on the coffee table and Minho reaches out for one with a grunt. “Thank you Yongbok-ah,” he sighs and leans back on the couch again, a pillow to support his back before a look of discomfort flashes across his face.
It wasn’t painful by any means, yet he could never really get used to the tightening sensation of his belly sometimes. “Hyung are you okay?” Felix immediately places a hand on Minho’s knee with slight panic in his voice, “I’m fine Yongbok-ah,” Minho chuckles before taking a bite of the cookie.
“They’re called Braxton Hicks,” Chan walks into the living room with two glasses of water, one for Minho and another for Felix, “Near labor but it isn’t painful,” he explains while Minho takes a swig of water, satisfied sigh escaping him.
“Yeah, it’s just a bit surprising,” Minho explains to Felix who seems to visibly relax back on the couch, “Oh…I see,” he nods, “How far along are you hyung?”
“We have three weeks left. I could already breathe properly so it must mean baby watermelon is lowering already,” he pats his belly lightly before Felix’s eyes widen at the sudden movement beneath his maternity shirt. “Woah,” he looks to Minho, only to be met with an endeared smile.
“Also watermelon?” Hyunjin walks in with sleeves rolled up. He’d been helping Chan with the installment of their washing machine and dryer–seemingly finishing up early. “He’s the size of a watermelon,”
“I still remember when he was baby rutabaga,” Felix jokes making Minho roll his eyes.
“Not the prettiest name era, I’ll admit,” he sighs before tapping his fingers against his bump while constantly taking a bite of the cookie, “But hey, he’s come a long way,”
“Do you have name ideas already?” Hyunjin asks while sitting across the pair. Just in time, Chan re-enters the living room before sitting beside Minho, immediately used as a human cushion as he hooks his arms around Minho’s waist to lighten the load on his stomach.
“We have a few,” Minho replies before motioning to Chan to get another cookie. Felix helps instead, “What do you have in mind?” he asks while handing the plate to Minho and snagging one cookie for Hyunjin as well.
“Chan has a few English names in mind, I have Korean names. We’re deciding to just give him a second name,”
“I don’t have a lot in mind, but Beau, Oliver, and Noah are definitely contenders,” Chan explains making Felix hum in understanding, definitely seeing the appeal in said names–Oliver is highly reminiscent of Olivia, his own sister. “Why wanna give us some suggestions?”
“I told you we should’ve done a name board during the gender reveal,” Minho mutters softly towards Chan who simply hums and lifts one hand to move a stray piece of hair away from his eyes, “Yeah but I thought public opinion shouldn’t affect the naming process?” he retorts softly.
“I was thinking a Jacob or Benjamin,”
“Oh Benjamin is cute,” Chan nods. “Aren’t you gonna name him Chris or Christopher, hyung?” Hyunjin then asks which garners a shake of his head in response, “Nah. I don’t think baby Watermelon would appreciate being a junior,”
“Aren’t you gonna ask me what I have in mind to name this little melon?” Minho cuts off with a petulant pout, making Chan laugh and pinch his cheek gently, “Okay, okay, go on hyung,” Felix chuckles at his hyung’s adorable attitude.
“One is Himchan which means strong,” he explains to Felix, “But Chan said it was too corny,”
“It is,”
Minho glares at Hyunjin who cowers back onto the couch with a small ‘sorry’ before he continues, “Minseok which means jade, his room is green after all,” he recollects, “And Jeongin, which means respectful and shiny,”
“Jeongin huh,” Felix parrots. “Sounds nice,”
Minho smiles, “You think so?”
“What made you think of Jeongin?”
He hums, looking back at Chan who shoots him back with a confused but nonetheless loving look, tilting his head to the side. “Chan’s eyes shine when he smiles, like, really shiny,” he starts explaining before looking back to Felix, “I also wish that baby watermelon would have shiny eyes when he smiles,”
Minho hums, “Think it’s catchy?”
“That’s actually so cute hyung,” Hyunjin comments, in awe and somehow not disgusted at the overly cute etymology stemming from Minho’s wonderful brain. “Oh I know,” Minho smugly looks back at him with a wiggle of his brows.
“Oh, Chan hyung is so red,”
“Shut up Felix,”
“So, so red,”
Hyunjin laughs at Chan's unbelievably red ears and neck, "Hyung you so have to pick Jeongin look at him,"
Minho adjusts his position and peers over to Chan who immediately buries his face into his shoulder, but the redness of his ears is very hard to hide. Minho couldn't help but laugh in disbelief at his husband, "You like it that much?"
"All of you shut up ,"
𓇼˚₊‧꒰ა 🫧 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚𓇼
Minho could feel stinging no matter how much he maneuvered his body into comforting positions. He hisses before he feels a very painful squeeze to his muscles, gripping the banister of their second floor before panting out in pain. The sunlight was spilling through the high window and it was blinding to Minho's discomfort, making him groan and buck his knees a bit.
"Pumpkin…are you coming out?" he pants. He shouldn't be due for another 2 weeks but the contractions were far from Braxton Hicks, and the body pain was getting worse and worse by the minute.
"Chan!" he manages to shout out before lowering himself to the floor, leaning against the wooden balustrade while clutching his stomach. He was probably going into labor. Maybe. He wasn't sure but god did it hurt like a bitch .
Hurried footsteps immediately make their way into the house as Chan sees Minho's back from their living room. Panic courses through his veins before speeding up in Minho's direction. "Yeobo!" Chan panics, "Are you okay?! Did you fall?"
"No, no," Minho shakes his head before a gasp is ripped out of him. It was a weird feeling, like he pissed himself but it was so…thick. "I– My water broke? Let's…let's go to the hospital please," he stammers in disbelief as Chan nods.
"Can you stay seated there first or do you want to stand,"
"I'll sit," Minho insists, "Painful if I stand more, please let's hurry up,"
Chan immediately heads to the nursery, grabbing the labor and hospital bag they packed up in one trip to the car while Minho writhes in pain, hand on his back and belly, "Pumpkin-ah, you didn't tell Appa you wanted out so early," he tries to ease the pain by talking to the bump.
Chan heads back and scoops Minho into his arms effortlessly, feeling the wet spot on Minho's joggers. "Fuck, you definitely broke your water," he comments while briskly yet cautiously heading down to assist Minho in entering the car. Thankfully, the house they bought was just 10 minutes away from the doctor's hospital Minho's OB-GYN worked. And even if he was a little bit early, he was relieved that it wasn't months early.
In record time, Chan's clammy hands are gripping the steering wheel while speeding to the hospital, his hands constantly on the horn while Minho starts groaning and crying out in discomfort. Their hands are slotted together and Chan doesn't give three shits if he felt like his bones were going to crumble under Minho's punishing weight. His own discomfort was nothing to what Minho was subject to at the current moment.
The progression was getting all so real because once they pulled up in the Emergency Room, and rolled away to the pregnancy ward, was dawning that from that day forward, they'd be coming back with a baby. Their baby. Their son.
"Chan," Minho's pained and choked voice breaks his husband's heart little by little, holding out to him while nurses busied themselves strapping Minho up to various machines. Chan shakily clasps his hand against Minho, seeing the anxiety flit through his eyes as he sweats out in exertion.
"Don't leave me please," he whispers, making Chan kiss at his knuckles and then on his forehead, "Baby, I can never leave you," he whispers.
"I'll be with you. I'll never leave, not even for a moment," he vows, fervent and sincere despite the very overwhelming feelings of his own anxieties swirling in his system. He was worried for his husband, and his son. Not everything was certain when guaranteeing success and survival even if Minho and their baby had been healthy throughout the 8 and a half months the pregnancy spanned. But he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them, now focused on his suffering husband and the people helping out.
"I love you, Minho-ya,"
"Hyung," he choked out, one that he had never used for almost 3 years now, "Yeah, hyung is here," he smiled at Minho with love, with comfort and that seemed to piece back together one small fragment of his anxious disposal.
"I love you Chan," Minho reaches his other hand out on Chris' cheek before pressing a trembly kiss on his lips.
The midwife enters with Minho's OB-Gyn, "Alright Minho-ssi," she snaps gloves on and a tray comes rolling in, "Let's start the epidural, shall we?"
𓇼˚₊‧꒰ა 🫧 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚𓇼
Baby wasn't able to cry in the first minute of being removed from Minho. Chan could feel his heart drop as his husband lost consciousness right after, the doctors making a great effort to bring his baby's breathing back.
His hands trembled against Minho's limp ones, tears already at bay before the first shrill cries of the child filled the operating room. Cheers come from the surgeons and nurses before the baby, even while still crying is whisked away to be cleaned. Minho had yet to be patched up, another team of surgeons starting to piece him back again little by little while Chan watched intently.
"Minho-ssi should wake up in a while Bang-ssi," a nurse comfortingly lays his hand on his shoulder.
"Please don't worry, he has stabilized rather quickly. He just had a low blood pressure,"
"Okay," Chan shakily speaks up, the very first sentence to leave his lips in almost 3 hours since Minho's delivery started.
Moved out of the operating ward, Chan has to wait by Minho's hospital bed as the beeping of his heart monitor fills the room. With shaky hands, he texts his parents that the baby has been delivered and Minho will stabilize soon enough.
The door to the room opens and a nurse walks in with a glass bassinet, a little bundle wrapped and swaddled up in blue blankets before he smiles at Chan who simply stares at the figure. "Bang-ssi, if you could, please remove your shirt," he instructs softly.
"You can hold baby boy now," he explains before removing the swaddle. The baby cries at the sudden discomfort of the temperature rapidly changing and a whine comes from Minho, his eyes cracking open a bit which makes Chan's breath hitch while removing his shirt.
"Min?"
"Baby. My baby,"
Chan couldn't help but happily gasp, "He's here Min. All healthy," he looked to the nurse who seemed to understand his request. He helps Minho remove some part of his hospital gown before the nurse gently sets the baby down on his bare torso, a sob escaping Minho as Chan looks on lovingly while caressing his forehead with care and relief. "Oh Chan," his voice cracks, "Yeobo, look at him," he sniffles while his husband wipes away his tears. The baby boy stops crying against Minho's hold, making him wiggle his balled-up fingers a bit.
"He's so beautiful Channie," Minho sobs, kissing the soft crown of their baby boy's head. "Thank you Channie," he looks up teary-eyed before unable to help to chuckle at his husband who couldn't control his own tears, still bare-chested.
"Hold him yeobo," Minho encourages, wincing a bit in pain as the anesthetics start wearing off. Chan looks to the nurse with an unsure look, and he softly chuckles at the new parents before gently taking the baby from Minho's hold and explaining to Chan how to take him, always supporting the neck and head at such a delicate age. Chan sits back down in the chair beside Minho's bed, now with his baby boy safely tucked by his chest.
"Hi," he whispers, the sound barely coming out while the little boy scrunches his nose. Definitely a little bit like Chan's nose.
"He looks so much like you it's kinda annoying," Minho comments weakly while a nurse fixes up his tubes and wires. Chan couldn't help but laugh at this, looking back down to his boy before looking again at Minho.
"What do you wanna name him yeobo,"
"Beau was such a good idea," Minho admits through closed eyes, "Let's name him Beau,"
"And his Korean name?" Chan asks, his thumb gently running along the soft, black wisps of hair on his head, "Jeongin," Minho settles, opening his eyes a bit to smile at Chan.
"Jeongin Beau Bahng,"
While Minho rested and dealt with the remaining pain of C-Section, Chan looked after little Jeongin. Rosed from his sleep, Minho could feel Jessica's–his mother-in-law–hand running through his sweaty hair while he peers over and sees Jack carrying the baby blue swaddle with a doting look. "Oh, you're up," Jessica softly smiles at him, "Hello there Minho-ya,"
"Eomma-nim," he smiles weakly, comforted by the touch she had, "If you didn't mind, Christopher is still taking a shower. I told him to take one, he didn't want to leave you but you wouldn't appreciate a smelly husband would you?" she softly chuckles, which makes Minho smile.
"I assured him I'll take care of you. Do you want something to eat? I cooked Miyeokguk for you the moment Chris told me you went into labor,"
The growl that emitted from Minho's stomach was enough of an answer.
Jessica smiles and smooths down Minho's hair before standing up and re-heating the seaweed soup she made using the hospital room's microwave. Jack then approaches Minho with a tender look, "How are you feeling son?"
And Minho doesn't know if it's the post-birth hormones, or genuine comfort blooming into his chest but he couldn't help but cry at the affection given to him by his in-laws. There was an undeniable phantom sting of the scars left by his own parents—and yet it didn't seem to matter at this very moment. As if Jack and Jessica kissed all of his concerns away like genuine parents.
"I'm doing great Abeonim,"
"Now, why are you crying?" Jack asks with concern but Jessica steps in, "Probably his hormones honey, let him," she smiles before unfolding the bed tray and setting Minho's soup down.
"Do you need help? I can feed you while Chris isn't here yet," she offers as Minho nods, arms still a bit too weak and sore from all of the IVs strapped to him. "Thank you so much eomma-nim,"
"Good job on giving birth darling," she smiles while scooping up a generous helping of soup, patiently holding it out while Minho takes cautious sips. "He's such a beautiful baby boy,"
"Looks just like Chan doesn't he?" Minho smiles and Jack can't help but chuckle at the statement, "Has his nose," he supplies before Jessica jokingly scrunches her nose up, "Tragic isn't it?"
Minho giggles at that. All three of the Bahng children did all look more similar to Jack rather than Jessica, not that it mattered as much considering the three were quite literally copy-pasted from each other. "I carried him for 9 months, how dare he not look like me," Jessica side-comments for Minho who nodded. "Very tragic indeed,"
"Hey in all fairness," Jack hums while looking down at his grandson, "He's still young. I can already tell he'd have a resemblance to Minho's eyes,"
The door to his hospital room opens, and Chris, now with freshly showered hair and everything else walks in. "You're awake," he immediately calls out before rushing to Minho's side to give him a hug, and then a kiss on the lips, "Hello yeobo," Minho giggles, making Chan smile at him fondly. "Hello appa, how are we feeling?"
"Stitches are painful but nothing I can't manage,"
"Alright," he nods, setting the duffel bag down before giving his mother a hug. "I can take it from here Ma,"
"Alright," Jessica gives her spot to Chan who gladly starts feeding Minho. "Have you told them the name?" he asks while blowing on the spoonful serving.
Chan nods, "Yeah. Told them Jeongin was your idea,"
"It's a beautiful name," Jack smiles at Minho before handing him off to Jessica who coos at him. "Respectful and shiny," Minho reiterates the meaning while Jack nods in approval, "Definitely a shiny child, lemme tell you that," he places his hands on his hips while Jessica scoots close so that he can still see the baby boy.
"You think so Pa?" Chan raises an amused brow.
"Of course," Jack nods in approval, eyes never torn off away from his grandson.
"He's surrounded by love," Jessica gently runs the knuckle of her pinky across Jeongin's brows which makes him scrunch his face cutely. "He'll definitely grow up to be a bright and shining child,"
𓇼˚₊‧꒰ა 🫧 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚𓇼
Poor baby Jeongin has colic.
The tearing screams of his cries despite being fed, burped, de-gassed, bathed, and changed ring through the house while Minho tiredly rocks him around, his arms tired and sore from the constant carrying he needs to do. It had nearly been two hours since Jeongin had been fussy and crying, and Minho knew it was normal for babies his age but the heart-tearing wails of his son were too much to stomach, and he felt his own tears well up in overwhelming emotions. His stitches were still mildly painful, he was going through considerable amounts of post-partum stress, he was already guilty for not being able to feed Jeongin breastmilk, and nothing he’d do would pacify the crying boy.
“Minho…Yeobo, give him to me,” Chan walks into their room quietly, carrying food for his tired husband and setting it down on the nightstand. Hesitating a bit, Minho gently transfers Jeongin to Chan’s arms, watching out for his neck while he still continues to weep. “No fever?”
Minho shakes his head and Chan hums, “Do you mind if I take him to the nursery? Have a moment of slight silence for you,”
Minho just nods, feeling numb to the sounds ringing through his ear. Chan exits the room, Jeongin’s cries softening as they make their way into the nursery. Minho takes a bite of the leftover mashed potatoes and stake that Chan heated for him, and a sob escapes his lips upon tasting the food. He doesn’t know why he’s crying–maybe it was the pain, the emotional turmoil of Jeongin sending him into a spiral, or the love that Chan never fails to shower him with even during these high-stress times.
He truly was lucky to have married a man like Christopher Bahng.
He glances down at the muted baby monitor, showing Chan rocking their baby boy gently, cries still heard in the hallway. It seems like Chan is talking to their baby, bouncing about before Jeongin comes to a complete stop.
The cries aren’t heard in the hallway anymore, seemingly having spent his last ounce of energy. Minho sighed in relief, he hated that Jeongin was tiring himself out with his colic but he was trying to come to terms with the fact that it was but natural.
He’s been taken off the very protective world of his appa’s womb–if Minho was in his baby boy’s shoes he’d probably cry endless hours too.
A minute later, Chan is heading back to their room with a sleepy baby in tow. Lowering baby Jeongin down his bassinet, not wanting to exile him into the nursery just yet. “Finally stopped. Little man has a pair of lungs,”
Minho sighs and swallows down his food, “Probably got that from you,” he comments before feeling the bed dip, Chan resting his elbows on his thighs. “Don’t sell yourself short yeobo, you also have a pair in you,”
Minho shrugs. Fair enough.
“I’m so…beat,” he mumbles before scarfing down the last of his food and setting the plate down on the nightstand, “I feel like my eardrums would burst,”
Chan couldn’t do anything but chuckle sympathetically, crawling up the bed before gently ushering Minho’s head down his lap so that his legs were hanging off the bed. He starts applying pressurized circles onto Minho’s temples, garnering a pleased whimper from his husband who closes his eyes in solace.
“Eomma-nim told me you weren’t a colicky baby,” Minho mumbles, delirious with sudden relief and relaxation. “Yeah, but Lucas was,” Chan recalls. “Maybe it’s still in my genes,”
“I don’t know if I was a colicky baby,” Minho mumbles, and Chan simply hums in acknowledgment. They didn’t talk about Minho’s childhood that much, especially after he got exiled from his family after finding out he was getting married to a man and became pregnant with said man’s child.
Chan was carrying the main burden of spite and frustration for the both of them–knowing that Minho still had a shred of sympathy for his unsympathetic folks back in Gimpo. Chan knows that Minho is still hurting because of it, and hates that he couldn’t do anything about it.
Snapped out of his thoughts, Minho lowers his hand after poking in between Chan’s furrowed brows with a concerned smile, “Stop thinking so hard and keeping it to yourself,” he softly states, “What’s going through your sexy mind,”
“Are you flirting with me?” Chan chuckles, effectively maneuvering the topic.
“Is it working?”
“Everything works against me if it’s you,” he reaches out for Minho’s hand and kisses his palm reverently, “We’ll work through Jeongin’s colic together, yeah?” he assures once again making Minho nod.
“Yeah,”
The both of them sit in silence, Minho relaxing with his head still on Chan’s meaty thighs while his husband quietly scrolls through his phone. The break was definitely needed, and while Minho could feel the sleepiness ebb through his spent being, he cracked his eye open before speaking up. “Yeobo, can you please bring Jeongin here,” he requests softly.
Chan immediately nods and gently scoops Minho up his arms, adjusting him so that he is lying down properly before getting up and walking to Jeongin’s bassinet.
With the utmost care, he carries his son towards the center of their bed, the small elongated pillows blocking off his own space in the middle. Depositing Jeongin on his abundance of pillows and blankets, Minho slowly moves to his son, lying on his side before laying his hand on Jeongin’s stomach.
The scent of powder fills his senses with comfort.
Chan lies by Jeongin’s right, propping his head up with his hand while watching Minho simply stare at their son with love overflowing from his eyes. “He has the smallest hands and feet,” Minho whispers, encasing a finger inside Jeongin’s fist.
The baby subconsciously latches on, peacefully dozing off while Minho can’t help but simply chuckle at him.
“He’s our tiny boy,” Chan presses a gentle kiss to Jeongin’s crown, “I can’t wait to see his eyes open, little curious thing who finally stops crying for hours without reason,” he tiredly jokes making Minho sigh with a smile.
“I hope he grows up healthily,” Minho closes his eyes with his fingers still in Jeongin’s grasp. “A child of shine,” he sleepily conjoins before in record time, soft snores start to come from him. Chan just smiles, kissing both of them on the forehead before watching the most precious things in his world peacefully sleep.
𓇼˚₊‧꒰ა 🫧 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚𓇼
“The circus McGurkus! The world's greatest show on the face of the earth wherever you go,” Chan reads out to Jeongin who looks at him with such awe while his father reads out the book. His colic has died down at 3 months, to both his and Minho’s relief, and his personality definitely starts shining through.
Jeongin wasn’t a fussy baby, but he was a curious one, constantly trying to grapple with things from both his fathers at all times. He tries pawing at the book, but Chan chuckles and lifts it up slightly, scrunching his nose at Jeongin.
The baby pouts and settles back down before Chan continues, “The circus McGurckus! Colossal! Stupendous!”
And it seems that his theatrics garner him a very wide, toothless smile from his dear son. His cheeks are filled up relatively well, making his eyes scrunch up. A gasp is ripped out of Chan, sitting up properly before taking a good look at his son.
“Minho-ya!”
His husband comes rushing in, wiping his hands on a towel with mild panic in his features, “Something wrong?” he asks immediately before his husband beckons to him excitedly.
Minho approaches and Chan coerces another soundless smile, delight spread over Jeongin’s features before Minho sees it. “Oh my god,” he nearly squeals, looking at Chan who’s sporting an equally wide smile, and he couldn’t help but melt. “ Oh , aegi-ya you have dimples!” he carries Jeongin and lifts him up, making their baby kick his feet in happiness.
His eyes shine like a million stars, a galaxy encased in those filled with wonder and innocence. “Iyen-ah, don’t you? You have dimples like your Papa!” Minho delights while blowing a raspberry in his cheeks.
Chan couldn’t help but lay a hand over his chest, enamored by the sight before him as Minho dotes on the little dimple on Jeongin’s cheek. “I hope it stays there forever, you’ll have a pretty dimple,”
Flailing his arms around, Minho sets Jeongin back down on the bed before grabbing Chan’s cheeks a bit roughly and pressing a loud smacking kiss on his cheek, where the dimple is.
“We make cute babies,”
“Damn right,” Chan beams before scooting up to steal a peck from Minho. “Now go read to him some more, make our son a prodigy,” Minho departs from the bed to go back to what he was doing outside.
A month ago he’d been a little bit nervous to leave Jeongin no matter who the company was–yet now he was comfortable enough leaving their son for short periods of time.
Chan picks the book up again, continuing where he left off. He’d read books to Jeongin when he was still in the womb, often in English because then Minho would read something to him in Korean.
Bilingual household at best.
“Astounding! Fantastic!” Chan continues with his signature Aussie accent, “Just like you, my love,” he looks to Jeongin who sports a sleepy smile on his face. Chan swoons at the sight before lowering his volume a bit, applying the tip Jessica taught him by gently running the knuckle of his pinky against Jeongin’s brows.
“Terrific, tremendous,” he lowers to a whisper while Jeongin jolts about trying to fight the sleepiness away.
“Here comes the acrobats, jugglers, and clowns, from a thousand and thirty-five faraway towns,” he finishes before seeing his son knocked out cold. He chuckles at Jeongin, gently lifting his head up before setting him down his bassinet. “Next time we can make it to Wily Waloo,” he whispers before pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead, “I love you Beau, sleep well my sweet boy,” he bids before closing the blinds, agitating the the mobile a bit and unmuting the baby monitor.
He brings the small screen with him before leaving the room, door softly shut behind him as Minho accidentally startles him.
“My god, you scared me!” he clutches his chest as Minho’s hands make its way to his waist, laughing softly at Chan’s plight. “He asleep?”
“Yeah, tuckered out and tired,” he shows the monitor as Minho smiles at the image of his son peacefully dozing off.
“He’s such a pretty sleeper,” he adores while Chan presses a kiss on his temple, “Like his appa?”
Minho gently pinches Chan’s side, “Don’t sell yourself short, you’re a pretty sleeper too,”
Chan rolls his eyes. He knows exactly what he looks like when he wakes up–curly hair tousled all over, brows scrunched, and face a little bloated. But if that’s Minho’s definition of a pretty sleeper then who was he to argue?
At least they were both correct that Jeongin was the prettiest sleeper of them all.
And little by little, he was sure to grow up valiantly and shinily, with the love his fathers surround him with.