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Twenty-two year-old Han Jisung is a heavy sleeper. Very few are the things that can wake him up. Alarms, banging pots or vigorous shakes aren’t nearly enough to disturb his slumber.
However, a little girl he has never met sitting on his stomach, screaming ‘Appa!’ while he was sleeping home alone on his couch seems to do the trick.
He startles awake, thankfully not knocking the little girl off. “What the f—”
“Appa!” she cuts him off, jumping up and down in her seat. “Appa! Wake up!”
Jisung stares at her open-mouthed, before rubbing at his eyes to make sure he isn’t still dreaming. But, no. There definitely is a little girl sitting on his stomach, and her jumping up and down definitely is making it hard for him to breathe. He sits up, the little girl sliding down to his lap, and that’s when he notices a slightly older looking boy standing next to the couch.
Now, Jisung is very much an introvert, but he knows everyone in his apartment complex. No one in there has kids as young as them. The youngest kids in the building are Ms. Choi’s fifteen year old twins. The little boy can’t be older than six, and the little girl looks maybe around three, so they’re pointedly not Choi San and Yeonjun. After thirty seconds of staring at them with the little girl calling him ‘Appa’ as background music, he finally decides to talk to them.
“Who are you? What are your names?”
The little boy cocks his head to the side. “You should know,” he says, haughtily accusatory for a complete stranger. Jisung’s even more confused. And the little girl just won’t stop calling him ‘Appa’. “Where’s Abeoji?” the boy speaks up again.
He doesn’t know this child. Obviously he doesn’t know who the hell his father is. “I’ll do you one better: who is your Abeoji?”
“Yo’we my Appa!” the little girl says from her spot on his lap. He turns back to face her, not a single idea of what she’s talking about. Jisung is fairly certain he would have known if he had a child.
Being absolutely lost with what to do, he decides to call Minho, his best friend with tons of babysitting experience. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he dials him, only having to wait through three tones for Minho to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Minho-hyung,” he rushes. “I need you to come over right now.”
The little boy perks up when he realises who Jisung is talking to. “Abeoji! Where are you?”
“Huh?”
Jisung turns to him, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “What? What do you mean?”
He doesn’t relent, getting closer to the phone and screaming into the speaker. “You’re talking to Abeoji! Hi, Abeoji! It’s me, Chanyeong!”
Through the phone, Minho’s confusion is palpable. “Chan…yeong? Sung, what’s going on?”
“I have no idea,” he breathes. “Please just come over.”
“I’m already on my way. See you in a bit.”
“See you.” Jisung hangs up the phone and turns to whom he now knows is Chanyeong. “So, your name is Chanyeong? That’s what you said?”
Chanyeong frowns, clearly offended. “Of course that’s my name.”
Jisung nods absentmindedly, before checking to see if there are any missing children reports of a child with the same name. After scrolling for a while, he finds an article mentioning a lost child called Noh Chanyeong, but the picture doesn’t match his face. Turning to the little girl with adorably large cheeks, he asks: “What’s your name?”
“Heeyeong,” she answers willingly, not putting up a fight unlike the other.
Jisung nods and points to them, saying their names accordingly. “So, Heeyeong… and Chanyeong.” He suddenly furrows his eyebrows with a quick shake of his head. “Wait a minute, are you two siblings?” They look nothing alike, so without their matching names he would’ve never made the connection.
Chanyeong frowns again, his arms crossing over his chest. “You’re being really weird today, Appa.”
Jisung blinks. “Appa?!” First Heeyeong, now Chanyeong is calling him that, too? He doesn’t get the chance to dwell on it for long, though, because that’s when Minho comes in with the spare key Jisung gave him. Chanyeong immediately lights up and runs to him.
“Abeoji!” His arms are raised in front of him, his smile large and excited.
“Hey, little guy,” Minho greets him, picking him up in his arms. He returns his smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes that are wide in confusion. “Sung, what?”
Heeyeong smiles brightly from Jisung’s lap. “Abeoji!”
“I have no idea what’s going on,” Jisung says, just as confused as him. Minho approaches him with Chanyeong in his arms, but as they get closer, he notices that they look awfully alike. “Um, hyung? Did you secretly have a child and not tell me? Why do you look so similar?”
Looking between Heeyeong and Jisung, Minho’s eyebrows crease further. “I could ask you the same thing. Why does she look just like you?”
In his arms, Chanyeong perks up. “You explained it to me so many times! I look like Abeoji, and Heeyeongie looks like Appa, because of suggo— Surra—” He struggles with a word, frowning in concentration. “Surrate!”
Minho blinks. “A surrogate?”
Nodding enthusiastically, Chanyeong grins. “I don’t know what it means, I just know that’s the reason!”
Minho then pauses. “So, you’re… our kids?!” he asks while pointing between himself and Jisung. When Chanyeong nods again, Jisung looks baffled while Minho looks ecstatic. “Yes!” he cheers. “I managed to pull you in the end!”
Jisung turns to him. “What?!”
Ignoring him, Minho turns to Chanyeong again. “Wait, what year is it?”
“It’s 2035!”
“2035?” He looks at Jisung in question, who looks at his phone before showing it to Minho. It’s still 2023. He takes a seat on the couch next to him. “How old are you two?”
“I’m five,” Chanyeong says, “and Heeyeongie is three!” She nods happily.
Jisung and Minho stare at them blankly, trying to make sense of something. Jisung whispers to Minho as he sits next to him. “Did they time travel?”
Minho shrugs, having as many answers as he does. “Hey, kids,” he says louder. “Is time travel possible?”
Heeyeong cocks her head to the side. “Time twavel?”
Minho and Jisung’s hearts melt.
Chanyeong shakes his head, and says: “Of course not.”
Heeyeong crawls to Minho to sit in his lap, looking up at him with puppy eyes. “Abeoji, can you make food, please? I’m hungwy.”
Pinching her cheek with a teasing smile, he asks: “Why aren’t you asking your Appa?”
Jisung’s cheeks heat up for completely unrelated reasons.
“When Appa cooks, the food tastes bad, I only like Abeoji’s cooking,” she says.
“Heeyeong-ah!” Chanyeong scolds. “That’s rude! Remember what Abeoji told us!”
She nods and corrects herself. “Sowwy, Chanyeong-oppa. Sowwy, Appa. I’m thankful when you cook, Appa, but because Abeoji wœks at the westauwant, his food tastes supew dewicious! Could you please make food fo’ me?”
Jisung cries. “Hyung, the ‘r’s, my heart can’t take this.”
Minho, close to tears, coos and takes her in his arms. “Of course I’ll make you food, my baby.” He walks to the kitchen, Chanyeong and Jisung following closely behind. Minho sets Heeyeong on the table, and Chanyeong raises both of his arms up, silently asking Jisung to do the same.
“What a’ you making, Abeoji?” Heeyeong asks.
Cooing again, Minho tickles her chin like she’s one of his three cats. “Whatever you want as long as it’s healthy enough. Do you have any food allergies?” he asks the both of them.
Chanyeong nods eagerly. “I can’t eat plums!”
Jisung nods and turns to their newly acquired daughter. “What about you, darling?”
She shakes her head.
“Can you make jjajangmyeon? It’s my favourite food,” says Chanyeong, to which Heeyeong agrees with a nod.
“Sure, what do you think?” Minho asks Jisung.
“I’m fine with it,” he shrugs, “but I don’t have any more cabbage or samgyeopsal. And I’m pretty sure I’m running low on bean paste and ginger.”
“I mean, I’ll go shopping, but I don’t want to leave the kids.”
“That’s okay,” Jisung says. “We can all just go together!”
Minho smiles at him and picks Heeyeong up from the counter, intending to put her down, but she whines about not wanting to let go of him, so she climbs onto his back instead. They walk to the front door to put their shoes on.
“Do you want to drive, or should I?” asks Jisung.
“I don’t have booster seats, jagi,” Minho says, placing Heeyeong on his hip once his shoes are on. “We’re gonna have to walk there. But it’s okay, it’s a couple minutes walk.”
Chanyeong reaches up to grab Jisung’s hand. “Can we go now?”
“Sure, honey,” he smiles.
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
On their walk there, Jisung remembers something Heeyeong said earlier in the day. “Hyung!” he exclaims. “Didn’t Heeyeongie say you’ll work in a restaurant in the future? That’s so exciting!”
Minho gives him a wide smile and opens his mouth to answer, but he’s cut off by Chanyeong. “Are you gonna kiss?”
Jisung’s face goes beet red, and his stuttering mess of a non-answer is interrupted by Minho, whose ears are of a matching shade. “We can’t kiss in public, honey.”
“But you kiss all the time and everywhere, usually!” he answers.
“We’re not going to kiss, Chanyeong,” Minho says, looking away from Jisung shyly.
Chanyeong pouts, and Heeyeong sighs in relief.
They arrive at the supermarket, and walk to the frozen foods section. Minho opens the glass door, fishing for the meat.
“Abeoji, I’m cold,” Heeyeong shivers in Minho’s arms.
“This won’t take long, angel,” he reassures her.
“Minho? Jisung?” a voice calls.
They turn to find their friend Chan.
“Whose kids are they?”
Chanyeong and Heeyeong’s faces brighten up. “Uncle Chan!” they scream in unison.
Chan’s eyes widen in an unhealthy mix of fear and confusion.
Jisung chuckles. “It’s a long story, but basically, meet our children.”
Chan blanks for a moment. Then, he gapes at them. “What?? Since when did you have children? And since when were you even together??”
Chanyeong lets go of Jisung’s hand to go into Chan’s arms. He jumps up and down with his hands up, until Chan finally picks him up.
Minho smiles. “That’s Chanyeong, and this little princess here is Heeyeong,” he says as he moves her forward in his arms, as if he’s trying to show her off.
Chanyeong nods his head enthusiastically.
Chan coos. “Chanyeong, huh? Was he named after me?”
Minho and Jisung turn to each other, never having made the connection before, but now that he’s mentioned it, it does make sense.
Chanyeong gives him a big smile. “Mhm! You’re my godfather!”
Chan coos again, close to tears. “Aw, how sweet is that?” However, realisation quickly dawns on him. “Wait, what?
Minho opens his mouth to explain, but Heeyeong starts squirming in his hold. “Abeoji, I’m cold,” she whines.
Minho immediately steps away from the chiller, pressing her closer to himself as to pass on some of his body warmth. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart. Is this better?”
She nods with a little pout. Minho is holding back tears.
Seeing Minho taking such good care of their child is already doing dangerous things to Jisung’s heart, but his next words don’t help at all.
“Look, baby,” he tells Jisung. “She looks just like you when you pout, that’s so cute!” Jisung’s cheeks flush red. Minho then turns to Chan. “Hyung, we’re going to have to go now. We need to finish doing groceries so we can feed them, but we’ll call you later to explain everything.”
Chan nods understandingly. “Okay, buddy,” he says to his— apparently— godchild. “I’ll put you back down now!”
Chanyeong pouts sadly. “Aw, man.”
Jisung takes Chanyeong’s hand into his, and they all wave goodbye. Minho is ninety-nine percent sure he hears Chan mutter ‘I could’ve sworn I’d remember if I had a godson…’ to himself.
They quickly finish with the groceries, pay and start heading back to Jisung’s apartment.
“Abeoji, I’m hungwy,” Heeyeong whines again. “When a’ we getting home?”
Minho pats her hair down and caresses her cheeks softly, soothing her cries. “We’ll be home soon, I promise, angel.”
Chanyeong suddenly stops walking, halting Jisung in his tracks. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
“I’m tired, Appa,” he complains. “Can you also carry me, please?”
Jisung smiles. “Of course. Do you want to go on my back?” When he nods, he crouches to the ground and lets Chanyeong climb his back. Jisung is delighted to find that five year-old boys are light as they are energetic.
“Appa?” he asks again.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Can I do some colouring when we get home?” He’s a little too close to his ear, but he’s adorable, so all is forgiven.
“Of course, honey.”
Minho raises an eyebrow. “Do you even have colour pencils?”
Jisung shakes his head. “None of my own, but Hyunjinnie left some of his art supplies a bit ago.”
Minho snorts. “Heh, he’s gonna kill you.”
“Eh, it’s whatever,” he shrugs. “I’ll explain everything and it’ll be fine. He’ll live.”
They make it home soon after that, Minho heading for the kitchen while Jisung goes to the living room. Minho washes his and Heeyeong’s hands, and calls out for Chanyeong to do the same. He smiles when he gets a ‘Yes, Abeoji!’ in return.
Minho sits Heeyeong on the kitchen table and gives her a kiss on the cheek. “Okay, princess. Let’s get started. Unless you wanna go draw with your brother?”
Heeyeong shakes her head. “No, I’m too hungwy.”
Minho gives her another kiss on the forehead. “Okay, honey. Just wait fifteen minutes, alright?”
Heeyeong furrows her eyebrows and puts on a thinking face. Minho looks at her fondly because he’s reminded of Jisung’s thinking face. “How long is fifteen minutes?”
Minho ponders for a second. “What’s your favourite song?”
Heeyeong lights up and says: “The Teddy Beaw song!”
Minho cocks his head to the side. “Can you sing it for me?”
“Teddy beaw! Ooh, ooh!” she babbles.
Minho pinches her cheek affectionately. “I love your singing, angel. Fifteen minutes is your favourite song repeated five times.”
Heeyeong nods vigorously. “Okay!”
Minho doesn’t think his eyes have ever been so soft, but guilt slowly starts gnawing at his heart when he remembers her hungry whines. “Do you want me to cut you some apple slices in the meantime?”
“Yes, please!” she says with a bright smile.
He kisses her cheek one more time and washes an apple from the fruit bowl. He takes out a cutting board, and makes sure he’s not too close to his daughter when handling the knife. He slices it in half, and dices one of the two halves. He places them in a plastic bowl and hands it to her. “Here you go. Don’t eat too fast and chew properly, hm?”
“Yes, Abeoji!” she nods happily. “Thank you fo’ the apples!”
“You’re very welcome,” he hums, and he starts cooking.
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
Jisung and Chanyeong enter the living room once they’re done washing their hands.
“Let me look for some pencils and paper, and I’ll be right back, honey.”
Chanyeong nods and sits on the couch. After some ruffling and shuffling, Jisung comes back to the living room to find his son staring at his wiggling feet. He chuckles and pats his hair.
“Here you go, darling,” he says and puts the stuff on the low table.
“Thank you, Appa!”
Jisung kisses the top of his head. Chanyeong sits on the floor, picking out a green pencil.
“Are you hungry?” Chanyeong nods his head, melting Jisung’s heart in the process. Jisung kisses his cheek and says: “Want me to cut you a banana?”
“Yes, please!” he answers while he’s focused on scribbling on the piece of paper.
Jisung smiles softly at him before getting up. He enters the kitchen and coos at Heeyeong sweetly eating her apple slices while watching her dad cutting up vegetables.
“Do you need help with the cooking, hyung?”
Minho hums a song. “I’m all good, baby.”
Jisung nods and turns to Heeyeong, grabs her cheeks gently before kissing her all over her cute little face. She giggles. “You okay, darling? Are you having a good time watching your Abeoji cook?”
“Mhm! It smells so good!”
“I know, right?” he frowns affectionately. “Isn’t he such a good cook?”
“He is! What’s Chanyeong-oppa doing?”
Jisung chuckles at the quick switch of topic and pats her head. “He’s drawing. Do you want to join him?” She nods her head excitedly. “Okay, darling. Just let me cut a banana up for your brother first,” he says as he grabs one from the fruit bowl.
“Give him half for now, baby,” Minho instructs with his back facing him. “I’m almost done with lunch and I don’t want him to be full before being able to eat a proper meal. He can have the rest afterwards, if he still wants them.”
Jisung nods understandingly, before taking the now empty plastic bowl Heeyeong was using to put the pieces of banana he’ll cut up in it. He slices half of the fruit, washes his hands, places his daughter on the floor and picks the bowl back up. “Let’s go, honey.”
“I’ll call you when I’m done!” Minho exclaims as they walk out.
Heeyeong and Jisung walk to the living room, joining Chanyeong on the couch.
“Here you go, darling,” he says as he places the bowl in front of his son.
“Thank you, Appa. I love you,” he says absentmindedly, focused on his drawing with his tongue sticking out.
Jisung suddenly feels a wave of emotion crash in on him. He blinks away tears. “I love you, too.”
Heeyeong waddles towards the colour pencils, grabbing the pink one and the brown one.
“Hey, Appa?” Chanyeong asks.
“Yeah?”
“How come you and Abeoji don’t kiss anymore?” He’s still looking down at his paper, popping a slice of banana into his mouth.
Jisung splutters. “Wha— What?!”
Heeyeong nods. “Usually Appa and Abeoji kiss all the time and it’s gwoss.”
Chanyeong laughs. “I don’t think it’s gross, Appa.”
Jisung starts stuttering, his face a bright red. His stammering is cut off, however, by Chanyeong’s petulant whine.
“Heeyeong-ah! I was about to use the yellow!” he scolds.
Heeyeong pouts. “But I need the yellow fo’ the sun, oppa!”
“You can use it after I’m done!” He snatches the pencil from her hand.
Tears well up in Heeyeong’s eyes, right before she bursts out crying.
Jisung takes her into his arms. “Oh, baby,” he caresses her hair. “Chanyeong-ah, she took the pencil first. If you both need it, since she took it first, it’s you who’s supposed to wait your turn, okay?” he explains.
Chanyeong pouts and crosses his arms. “Okay…”
Jisung pats his hair gently. “Do you see how you were in the wrong?”
Chanyeong uncrosses his arms. “Yes, Appa.”
“Can you apologise to your sister, then?” He gives him an expectant look. Chanyeong looks up to him and nods. Jisung smiles softly. He untangles Heeyeong from his neck, drying her tears before turning her towards her brother.
“I’m sorry, Heeyeong-ah. You can use it first and I’ll wait until you’re finished.” He gives her a hug.
“Okay. I accept youw apology,” she sniffles.
Minho pops his head into the living room, throwing Jisung a questioning glance. Jisung shakes his head and smiles, reassuring him with a thumbs up. Minho sighs in relief, his head disappearing once more. Turning his focus back to his kids, his heart swells when he sees Heeyeong happily drawing a wobbly curved line in the corner of her paper, and Chanyeong observing her small hand while feeding himself some more banana slices.
Jisung bends down to lay a kiss on the top of Chanyeong’s head. “I’m proud of you for apologising so well, darling.”
Chanyeong smiles up at him, missing tooth and all.
“Come eat, angels!” Heeyeong and Chanyeong immediately run to the kitchen. “Did you wash your hands, Chan-ah?” He nods and sticks his arms out in front of him to show proof. Minho chuckles when he sees the bits of banana on his right hand. “I meant after drawing, sweetheart,” he says as he picks Heeyeong up to help her wash her hands at the sink.
“Oh,” he says. Then, “Can you help me reach the sink, please?”
“Of course, honey,” he replies. “Just let me finish washing Heeyeongie’s hands first.”
Jisung walks into the kitchen then, bringing the kids’ plates that Minho had prepared back to the living room table. Minho places Heeyeong down and carries Chanyeong so he can wash his hands, and Heeyeong rushes back to the living room. Chanyeong’s quicker than his sister at washing his hands, so Minho places him back down and takes his and Jisung’s plates to the living room. Jisung moved the stuff on the table so that there’s place for all four of them to eat, and when they finally all sit down, Jisung thanks Minho for the food, something that their kids mirror.
“Let’s eat well!” Minho chants. He smiles when he notices Chanyeong eating with his left hand like himself, and Heeyeong eating with her right hand like Jisung.
They all enjoy their food together, and once they’re done, Jisung and Minho bring the plates back to the kitchen.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Minho asks gently.
Jisung sighs. “Confused, mostly. I don’t understand what’s going on, but I love them so much.”
Minho nods in agreement. “Yeah, me too. I’m having a hard time believing that I’m not dreaming, honestly. ‘Cause, I mean, time travel? That’s insane and just… Not possible. But they’re here, and I wouldn’t believe it if it weren’t for how they look just like us.”
Jisung smiles softly. “They really do, don’t they?” He pauses. “I can’t believe we’re going to have children together.” Then his eyes widen. “I can’t believe that’s even legal in the future.”
Minho chuckles. “I guess 2035 Korea will have come a long way since today. But I’m really glad we will. Have children, I mean.”
Jisung’s expression softens. “Yeah. Me too.”
Then, Chanyeong comes into the kitchen holding a drawing up. “Appa! Abeoji! Look!” They turn to him. “I finished my drawing!” Heeyeong comes waddling in, her own drawing clutched in her hand. Chanyeong holds the drawing as high as he can, wearing a proud smile. The drawing depicts four flowers of four different sizes and colours, with messy hangul letters hovering over them. “I drew flowers and they’re all our favourite colours!” Jisung takes the drawing into his hands. The tallest flower is green, representing ‘Abeoji’, the red one ‘Appa’, the shorter purple one ‘Chanyeong’, and the shortest one is yellow, labelled ‘Heeyeongie’.
“I love it, Chan-ah,” Minho says, touched.
“I think it’s beautiful, darling. Can I keep it?” Chanyeong nods happily. Jisung pats his head. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Heeyeong approaches Minho and waves her drawing above her head. “Look at my dwawing, too!”
Minho chuckles and takes the drawing. “Alright, angel.” He holds it between himself and Jisung.
“I dwew a dwaekki like Uncle Changbin!” Jisung and Minho coo out a laugh.
“I think you did an amazing job, honey,” Jisung chuckles.
“Can I send him a picture? I’m sure he’s going to love it,” Minho grins.
She nods happily. “He can keep it! It’s a gift fo’ him.”
Minho bends down to tickle her chin. “Aw, you’re so sweet. I’ll call and let him know.”
Jisung turns to their son. “Chan-ah, do you want the rest of the banana?”
“Yes, please!”
He smiles. “What about you, Hee-yah? Do you want some more fruit?”
“Can I have stwawbewwies?” she misarticulates endearingly.
“Of course, darling.” He then turns to Minho. “Do you mind taking care of that while I do the dishes?”
“Sure, baby.”
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
Later they find themselves, the four of them, sitting on the couch and eating fruits together.
“Appa?” Heeyeong peeps.
Jisung hums. “Mhm?”
“Can you paint my nails, please?” she asks with pleading eyes.
“That’s a good idea,” Minho muses.
“Yes, but I want Appa to do it, not Abeoji,” she says pointedly.
“Jeez. Feisty,” he chuckles.
“I wanna paint my nails, too!” Chanyeong fusses.
Minho ruffles his hair with a teasing: “Do you also want Appa to do it for you?”
Chanyeong shakes his head. “I wanna do it myself.”
Jisung nods and gets up to go to the bathroom. He comes back with a transparent pouch filled with nail products. He sits back down with a thud, making Heeyeong bounce in her seat. Digging through the pouch, he asks: “What colour do you want?”
“Purple!” Chanyeong shouts.
Jisung nods and pulls out a purple nail polish bottle.
“I want gween, and pink, and wed,” Heeyeong lists. Minho giggles.
“Alright, darling,” Jisung says, taking out the three colours his daughter asked for, and he starts painting her nails.
Minho looks over to Chanyeong who’s sitting at the table, painting his own nails carefully. “Woah, you’re doing really well, angel.” Chanyeong doesn’t answer, too focused with his tongue sticking out. Minho chuckles affectionately.
Chanyeong finishes his right hand, but then turns to Minho. “Abeoji, can you help me do my left hand, please?”
“Sure, honey.” He carefully applies the purple nail polish to his hand, and once he reaches his middle finger, he hears Heeyeong giggle as Jisung blows on her fingers.
“Thank you, Appa!”
“You’re welcome,” he singsongs. “Do you like it?”
“I love it!” she cheers.
“I’m glad,” he hums. “Okay, it’s almost dry, darling.”
Minho finishes applying nail polish on Chanyeong’s pinky finger. “Thank you, Abeoji!”
“You’re welcome. I don’t do this often at all, I hope I didn’t do too bad of a job,” he drops a kiss to his head.
“I like it!”
Minho ruffles his hair. He blows on his hand until it’s dry, and Heeyeong suddenly yawns. “Are you tired, Hee-yah?”
She nods, rubbing at her eye.
“Do you want to take a nap?” Jisung asks as he rubs at her back.
“Yeah,” she yawns again.
Chanyeong yawns in turn. “I also wanna nap.”
“Alright, my angels,” Minho smiles. “Let’s get you to bed.” He takes Heeyeong into his arms, walking to Jisung’s bedroom with Chanyeong hot on his heels. He lays his daughter on the bed, his son shuffling in next to her. Minho tucks the both of them in, and lays a kiss to their foreheads. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Abeoji,” Chanyeong says, already half asleep.
“Me, too. And Appa, too,” Heeyeong yawns.
Jisung chuckles from the doorway. “Sleep well, darlings. I love you.”
When Chanyeong and Heeyeong fall asleep, Minho looks at their sleeping faces with a smile. He gets up and closes the door behind them. Jisung and Minho crash on the couch and let out a big sigh. They share a look, immediately bursting out into giggles.
“This is crazy,” Minho says between chuckles.
Jisung runs a hand through his hair with a deep inhale, and drops it back down to his lap, breathing out a chuckle. “Yeah. Crazy,” he agrees. “My god, they’re so fucking cute,” he says once he realises he can curse again.
“I know,” Minho groans. “Did you notice that Chanyeongie is left-handed and that Heeyeongie is right-handed?”
“I did!” Jisung whines. “It’s so cute how we can see both of us in them. Like, Heeyeongie looks just like me, but she’s as straightforward as you, and she accepts apologies just as quickly as you. And Chanyeongie looks just like you, but he loves romance just as much as me, and he’s just as nosy as me!”
“And he likes getting his nails painted just like you do,” Minho adds. Jisung laughs. “Is it weird to say I feel like we’re naturals at this whole parenting thing? I mean, today went really well.”
“Yeah, I agree,” Jisung nods. “I already knew you were good with kids, but I think I also did pretty well.” He smiles to himself. “I’m excited to have them for real. In… What? Twelve years?”
Minho counts on his fingers. “Well, we’re gonna have Chanyeong in seven years, and Heeyeong in nine. But, yeah. I’m also excited to have them. And to learn more about them.” They look at each other and smile. “And,” he adds, “I’m excited to marry you.”
Jisung’s eyes widen. He laughs. “You know, I really never noticed you liked me.”
“Like you?” Minho gapes. “No, I don’t like you. I’m like— crazy in love with you. It’s kinda impressive you never noticed,” he laughs. “I’m so different with you compared to how I am with our friends. Like, that thing you said about me accepting apologies quickly. That’s just how I am with you. Seriously, everyone is constantly making fun of me and saying shit like I’m ‘biologically incapable of being upset at you’,” he air-quotes.
Jisung’s face is beet red. “Wow. Damn. Now I get why Hyunjin was so pushy about me confessing my feelings to you.”
Minho smiles widely. “So you do have feelings for me.”
“What?” he raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, of course I do. We wouldn’t be having a child in seven years if I weren’t crazy in love with you too today. You know how much anxiety I have; I would not have children with someone three years after starting to develop feelings for them. I’d have to be ten thousand percent sure.”
Minho’s smile turns into something a little more insecure. “Are you sure with me?”
Jisung snorts, but it’s not mocking. “We just tucked in our future son and daughter. Even just saying that makes my heart flutter. If there’s anything I’ve ever felt sure of in my life, it’s you. I’m so in love with you it makes me dizzy, sometimes. You really are my soulmate.”
Minho brings a hand to cup his cheek. “Me too. I’m so sure about you. It’s not even a question that has ever crossed my mind. I’ll love you till the day I die, Jisungie.”
Jisung kisses him. “I’ll love you way past that, Lee Minho.”
They kiss again, smiling against each other’s lips.
“We’re keeping my last name, by the way.”
“I was just thinking I wanted to take yours.”
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
An hour later, when they open the door to Jisung’s bedroom, they find it empty.
“Chanyeong-ah? Heeyeong-ah?” Minho calls. He doesn’t get a reply.
“I guess they’ve gone back to 2035,” Jisung sighs.
Minho’s shoulders drop. “Oh. Yeah,” he breathes. “I’m gonna miss them.”
Jisung wraps his arms around his waist. “Me too. But it’s not like we lost them. I mean, they technically don’t exist yet. So, how about instead of saying we miss them, we say we’re excited to meet them?”
Minho smiles at him and presses their lips together. “Yeah. I’m so excited to meet them.”
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
Hyunjinnie
Me:
hyunjinnie
Hyunjinnie:
yes sungie
Me:
remember when you left some of your art shit in my apartment
Hyunjinnie:
yeah?
i’m gonna have to get them back soon by the way
Me:
yeah yeah
well
don’t be mad
Hyunjinnie:
oh no
Me:
but my kids used some of your colour pencils
Hyunjinnie:
?????
what kids????
Me:
mine and minho-hyungie’s kids from the future time travelled
Hyunjinnie:
…
uh huh
Me:
and at some point chanyeong
that’s our son
said he wanted to draw and i remembered that some of your shit was at my place
Hyunjinnie:
…right
Me:
and then heeyeong
that’s our daughter
she also wanted to draw so she also used your pencils
don’t worry, we apparently raised them well and they didn’t break any of your precious art supplies
Hyunjinnie:
mhm okay
jisungie
what did i tell you about texting while high
Me:
i’m not high!!!
ask minho hyung or chan hyung
minho hyung was with me all day and chan hyung saw them when we went grocery shopping
Hyunjinnie:
please go drink some water and have some food <3
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
2045, at the Lee household
“Hey, Appa?”
“Yes, Chanyeong?”
“Did I ever do a drawing of, like… Four flowers or something? I keep dreaming of that, and I’m thinking that it’s probably something from when I was little. Do you remember a drawing like that?”
Jisung turns to Minho in surprise. “Uh— yeah, actually. When you were five, you gave us a drawing of our family as flowers. I still have it, I can show it to you.”
Fifteen year-old Lee Chanyeong is a great artist. Very few are the things that can truly move him.
However, a drawing he did as a five-year old child about his parents and sister he loves dearly will probably do the trick.
“Yes, please!”