Chapter Text
“Suho,” Sieun says, “There's a baby in my house.”
“What?” Suho pulls back and looks at the phone screen. It's Sieun's number on the caller ID and it's Sieun's voice, but what he's saying makes no sense.
Why the hell would there be a baby in his apartment? He's pretty sure Sieun doesn't have any siblings, unless he conveniently forgot to tell Suho this little detail during the course of their six-year friendship.
Suho's going to give him an earful if—
“There's a baby,” Sieun repeats, “In my house. What do I do with it?”
—
Suho is speechless.
There isn't just one baby in Sieun’s house.
There are two babies.
Technically, one of them is a preschooler, but preschoolers are still babies in Suho’s book.
The infant is sitting in a car seat on the couch next to a backpack overflowing with diapers, bottles, and baby formula. He has a round, chubby face and a shock of thick hair that’s sticking straight up in the back.The baby looks just as confused as Suho feels. He keeps blinking and looking around like, where the hell am I?
The little girl is standing next to Sieun, close enough that she’s half hidden behind his leg. The resemblance is uncanny. They both have the same pouty mouth, high cheekbones, and thick lashes.
On the drive over here, Suho was convinced Sieun was playing a prank on him. But they’re actually here. Two very real, human children, in Sieun’s house, and they’re both looking at him with big, curious eyes.
“Where did they come from?” Suho asks, dumbfounded. “Did you have kids without telling me or something?”
He’s mostly joking but it’s not impossible. Sieun is quite literally the prettiest boy he’s ever seen in his life. If he wanted a girlfriend, he could have one by tomorrow.
Suho’s stomach flip flops.
What if some lucky girl already caught Sieun’s eye—and maybe it was supposed to be a casual thing, but something happened — two somethings, and maybe—
“Let’s talk in the kitchen.” Sieun takes a step towards Suho and the little girl takes the same step, her tiny hand still wrapped tight in the fabric of his jeans. Suho’s eyebrows go up. There’s no way, right?
“I’ll be back,” Sieun tells the girl awkwardly, “I need to talk to my friend.” He seems confused and embarrassed by the girl’s clinginess, but not particularly bothered by it.
Suho’s eyebrows inch even higher. Sieun hates clinginess. Or at least, he always rolls his eyes and shoves Suho off when he’s clingy.
The little girl shoots Suho a look (really intimidating actually, since her eyes take up about 50% of her face) then she lets go of Sieun and walks over to the couch, where her brother is blowing spit bubbles.
Sieun pulls Suho behind the tiny bar that divides the kitchen and the living room. “My uncle dropped them off out of nowhere,” He says in a hushed tone, “He said he'd come back Sunday night to pick them up, then he just left. He didn't even give me a chance to ask what was going on."
Suho blinks once. Twice. Oh. That makes way more sense than the secret baby mama thing. “I didn’t know you had an uncle,” He says, “Or cousins.” He loves getting new Sieun lore.
“I haven’t seen him since elementary school,” Sieun explains, “This is my first time meeting his kids.” His thumb drifts up to his mouth like he might start biting the nail, then he drops it at the last second. “I tried to get in contact with my Dad but he isn’t answering his phone. He’s on a business trip in Daejeon right now. I don't think he knew they were coming. He would've told me.” So Sieun called the next best thing: best friend Ahn Suho. Of course. That makes perfect sense.
“So we’re going to be mom and dad for the weekend?” Suho grins, “Is that what you’re saying?” He's trying to ease Sieun's anxiety a bit, but he's also kind of freaking out too. They're going to be taking care of babies. Together. Even the visual is too much.
“Why do you look so excited?” Sieun says, exasperated. “We're not playing house.”
Suho will own up to it. He might be a little excited to play house, but that’s only because this is the perfect opportunity to live out his domestic fantasies without risking their friendship. Maybe he can get Sieun into an apron at some point. Suho's imagining a freshly baked pie on the kitchen counter and a kiss on the cheek when he walks through the front door. “Welcome home.” Sieun would whisper it in his ear, real soft and sweet. Then Suho picks him up and spins him around like they do in the movies and…
“You’re making a creepy face right now.” Sieun says, suspicious.
“What?” Suho coughs, his cheeks flaming, “This is just my regular face, don’t be rude, Sieun.”
Sieun huffs. Maybe he can read minds. If he can, he’d see Suho doing all kinds of things to him in that apron.
Suho coughs again, “I actually used to babysit for my neighbors all the time before they moved. Kids are easy. You just have to feed them, play with them, and keep them alive.” He straightens his jacket and puffs out his chest a little. “Follow hyung’s lead, okay?”
“Okay,” Sieun says lightly, “Whatever you say, hyung.”
Suho pretends that hyung didn’t do anything to his heart rate and marches back into the living room with a skeptical Sieun trailing close behind.
The little girl is playing peek-a-boo with the baby. She uncovers her eyes and sticks her tongue out.
He bursts into giggles.
She does it again, and the baby laughs even harder. He’s holding his little baby foot in one hand too, chubby fingers curled around even chubbier toes.
Suho is going insane. He’s never had baby fever in all of his twenty two years on Earth, but now he wants a hundred babies. No, a million. An army of Yeon Sieun look-alikes.
When the little girl sees Suho approaching, she turns and cranes her neck all the way up to look him in the eye. Suho gets down on one knee. “Hey, kiddo. I’m your cousin’s friend, Suho,” He says, smiling, “What’s your name?”
“My name is Aera, and that’s my brother Seojun,” She says, then holds up a stuffed brown bear with a missing button eye, “This is my teddy. His name is Teddy.”
Suho’s melting into the floor. Her teddy bear is named Teddy. “Holy shit. You’re so fucking cute,” He murmurs, covering his mouth, “Yeon family genes are no joke.”
“You shouldn’t say fuck,” Aera frowns and hugs Teddy the bear closer, “Fuck is a bad word.”
Suho can’t hold it in. He cracks up laughing. Cute, cute. So fucking cute.
Even though Aera has Sieun’s face, she’s wearing an expression Suho’s never seen on Sieun before. Her little cheeks are puffed out and she’s scrunching her nose like an angry kitten that's about to start hissing.
Suho laughs harder.
“Suho.” Sieun says disapprovingly, in the exact same tone and inflection as Aera. His nose is a little scrunched too. Angry kitten.
“Ah, come on, Sieun-ah. What did you expect?” Suho’s eyes are still crinkled with laughter, “They’re literally bite sized versions of you. I can’t help but love them.”
Sieun’s eyes widen.
Love. Suho’s heart trips over itself. Damn it.
“And for the record, I’m taking this very seriously,” He continues, his voice an octave higher than it was a second ago, “That’s why we’re going to the park. Babies love parks.”
“The park?” Aera chirps. “I wanna go to the park. Let’s go to the park!”
“See?” Suho smiles at Sieun, “Easy.” He walks over to the couch and unbuckles the straps on Seojun’s car seat. The baby has a gaping hole in his threadbare onesie, right where his knee pokes through, and the fabric is so faded Suho can’t make out the animal on the front. A fox or a cat maybe.
“Come on, Mr. Seojun,” He says, “Let’s change your diaper before we head out.”
Seojun coos and immediately reaches for him with grabby pick me up hands.
“Wah, you’re cute,” Suho scoops him up, awestruck. If he had to guess, Seojun is probably nine or ten months old. His eyes catch the fluorescent light, shimmering like party sparklers. He's a Yeon through and through.
“Babababa.” Seojun says.
“I'm glad you agree.” Suho replies, shifting the baby to one hip so he can grab a fresh diaper from the bag. “You’re the cutest baby ever.” He paws around for an extra onesie but there aren’t any. Just diapers, wipes, and dinted cans of formula. This is the only outfit his dad packed for a weekend stay? No pajamas, no blankets, no bibs? Bizarre.
“Actually, we might have to make a pit stop at the store first. The baby doesn’t have any...” Suho trails off.
Sieun is watching him closely. There’s a line between his eyebrows and his gaze is dark. Thoughtful. Like he’s trying to solve a difficult math problem in his head, or maybe he’s already solved it and he’s unsure about the answer.
Suho snorts, “What’s with that face, huh? Are you impressed? I told you I’m a baby whisperer.”
Sieun ignores him completely, “Why are we going to the store?”
“Yeah, why are we going to the store?” Aera parrots. “I wanna go to the park.” Her long hair, tied back in a haphazard ponytail, is rapidly unraveling, so she keeps pushing the tangled strands out of her eyes. She’s also wearing a stretched out t-shirt that’s twice her size with worn out jeans cuffed so many times they bunch up around her ankles.
Here's the thing. Suho isn't materialistic. There are a ton of great finds in thrift stores if you bother to look around for more than three seconds. Halmeoni bought all of his clothes at secondhand shops growing up. But someone had obviously found Aera and Seojun’s clothes at the top of a damaged bin then called it a day.
Suho doesn’t know Sieun’s uncle and he doesn't like jumping to conclusions, but he already hates the guy.
“Store then park,” Suho says firmly, “You can pick out a toy while we’re there.”
The word toy flips a switch inside Aera.
“A toy!” Aera gasps and grabs Sieun’s pants leg, “Let's go, let's go, let's go!”
—
Suho and Sieun try to get some more answers out of Aera on the way to the shopping center, but all of their questions are met with blank stares and shrugs.
Do you know where your dad went?
I dunno. He never tells me where he’s going.
Sieun and Suho exchange wary glances at that.
What about your mom?
Aera pauses, then shrugs.
Do you know his phone number?
“Teddy has a phone,” Aera says, lifting the bear’s fluffy arm to her ear, “Beeboop, beeboop. Hello?”
Suho expected as much.
—
At the store, Aera bounces up and down on the balls of her feet in the middle of an aisle. “Sieun oppa, Sieun oppa. Do you like the pink shoes or the white shoes better?”
Suho said he'd buy her whatever she wanted. Apparently that means every single shoe and article of clothing must pass a thorough inspection from Yeon Sieun.
This dress or that dress?
The shirt with the bunnies on it or the shirt with the rainbow on it?
“I like the pink shoes.” Sieun says, “The soles have better grip.” He takes everything she says very seriously, like he’s talking to another grown up. It’s funny and adorable at the same time.
Suho wants to kiss him so bad.
Seojun bonks him on the head with the rattle toy again. Ouch. It’s like he has a sixth sense for when Suho is thinking sappy thoughts about Sieun. He's hit him three times in the past fifteen minutes.
“Why not get both?” Suho says, rubbing his eyebrow begrudgingly, “They’re both cute.”
“I can get both?” Aera's eyes are wide as saucers. “Daddy says he hates wasting money on stupid things.” Her voice goes quiet, almost too quiet to hear over the dull roar of customers talking around them. “Is this a waste of money?”
Beside Suho, Sieun stills.
A waste. Who the hell talks to a kid like that?
“Get them in every color.” Suho says fiercely, “Put the whole rack in the cart. Just make sure they’re your size.”
Aera’s face lights up. She runs to the rack and starts picking up as many shoes as she can carry.
Suho watches her with his heart in his throat.
“I know why you're doing this.” Sieun says in a low voice, “But she can't get everything she wants. That's not the way the world works.”
“Why can't it be the way the world works just this once?” Suho says stubbornly, “I have the money and she wants the shoes, so what’s the big deal?” He moves the shopping cart back and forth and Seojun bonks him on the arm this time. “She isn't a waste.” He adds softly, defensively.
Sieun stares at him. Suho squirms. He knows he’s projecting. A little bit. It’s really not a big deal. They’re just shoes. Suho didn’t have money growing up and it sucked. He has plenty now and it's great. He's fine.
Suho braces himself for a lecture about the downfalls of spoiling children, but Sieun does no such thing. Instead, he crosses the aisle and crouches down beside Aera. “Should we try on the white sandals next?” Sieun asks, “They have cherries on them.” He picks up the shoes and they’re tiny, even in his hands, “Do you like cherries?”
“Cherries go on top of ice cream sundaes,” Aera says, “I like ice cream and I like cherries.”
Sieun’s lips twitch, “Maybe we’ll get some ice cream later.”
Inexplicably, Suho’s eyes sting and he has to look away. This is so dumb. Why is he about to cry over some baby shoes?
“Hey, I’m gonna take Seojun and look over there real quick. I’ll be back.” Suho doesn’t wait for an answer. His voice is already dangerously stuffy so he takes the baby out of the shopping cart and beelines for the men’s clothing section.
Once they’re out of sight, Suho sags against a rack. “Sieun is so,” He says in a tortured voice, “Ugh.” Sieun is just being himself— sweet and perfect and understanding as always, and he just expects Suho to be normal about it.
He lets out another agonized groan.
Seojun whacks him over the head with the toy and says, “Bababa.”
“I already know I’m a simp. No need to point it out, Seojun.” Suho mutters. He shuffles through the clothes, flipping past a white button up and a pin striped sweater before his eyes snag on a red t-shirt. It’s the exact same shade as his windbreaker. And it’s Sieun’s size.
Suho has an idea. A no good, very bad idea.
The next five minutes are a complete blur.
Suho finds overalls and a red onesie for Seojun in the baby section. While he’s there, he also grabs a cute pajama set with little turtles on them and a jacket with bear ears sewn into the hood to add on top of the mountain of clothes already in their shopping cart. Aera has a red skirt in her pile, so when Suho makes his way back to the shoe aisle, he holds the red shirt out to Sieun and tries not to look guilty. “Put this on.” He says.
Sieun frowns, “Why? What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
“Just do it,” Suho urges, “We’ll all match. It's cute.” He can feel his neck getting hotter by the second. This was a stupid idea. So fucking stupid. He saw this family wearing matching outfits on Instagram once and yeah— this is dumb.
“Cute.” Sieun repeats. He doesn’t blink or reach for the shirt. Suho’s hand is trembling.
“It was the kid’s idea,” He lies. “Right, Aera?”
Aera smiles angelically, “Right!”
Wow. He didn’t expect her to back him up like that.
Nobody can resist that smile. Not even Sieun. So he exhales, grabs the shirt, and walks into the dressing room.
When Suho turns back, he finds Aera staring straight at him. Even Seojun, still perched on Suho's hip, stops sucking on his thumb to look at him with big, shining eyes. It's that deadpan Yeon look. I know what you’re thinking.
Suho laughs nervously, “What?”
“You like like Sieun oppa.” Aera says.
Suho chokes, “ What? No I don’t.” His voice cracks on don't. Fuck.
“It’s okay,” Aera says blithely, “I won't tell.” She whirls around and goes back to piling her new shoes into the cart.
A cold chill runs down Suho’s spine. A five year old just clocked him after spending a few measly hours together.
Is he that obvious?