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year 1
the sound of crying wakes him up.
he doesn’t groan, nor does he complain. he doesn’t think he has any right to, despite how much his whole body hurts, and how he’s only ever had seven hours of sleep in a span of three days. he takes a deep breath before forcing himself to stand despite the pain in his joints and muscles. he opens his eyes and forcefully adjusts his vision to the dark despite how heavy his eyelids feel.
“‘m coming, love.” he whispers to himself, ignoring how the room started spinning, and how his whole body is practically screaming at him to stay put when he quickly stood up to trudge towards the crib at the corner of his room. he does his best to get there as fast as he can, to hopefully soothe the crying baby as soon as he can. the last thing he wants is to tire the baby from crying, and to add to his already splitting headache.
“hey, hey,” he whispers, slowly picking the baby up and carefully—albeit clumsily—positioning him in his arms. he starts bouncing him carefully, careful not to jolt the baby too much, but also enough to know that the baby might like it. he smiles when his cries start to subside. “that’s right, papa’s here. papa’s here, my love.”
park hanseung, born seven months and five days ago, is small in sunghoon’s arms, considering how frail sunghoon had become since giving birth all those months ago. his baby is really just small, but he does his best to give him all the milk and nutrients he needs. his doctor said that maybe it was because of the lack of vitamins and nutrients sunghoon took when he was still conceiving hanseung.
being small doesn’t mean he’s not healthy, his doctor said, before moving to comment on sunghoon’s health. he hadn’t listened much, knew it was going to be pointless anyway. sunghoon doesn’t have time to think much about himself when he has jobs to work, bills to pay, and a baby to raise. he can’t complain about being tired, nor can he even think about getting sad.
being sad won’t pay the bills, nor will it feed hanseung.
and being sad won’t bring jaeyun back to life, nor will it make heeseung love him back.
little hanseung whimpers, and sunghoon chuckles at the realization that his baby just wanted to be held. sunghoon slowly walks back to his small single bed, back resting on the headboard while he pulls his knees closer to his chest, resting hanseung on his legs as his son looks at him with those familiar, wide doe eyes.
sunghoon feels his chest ache, smiling sadly as he lifts a finger to brush lightly against his cheek. little hanseung gurgles, his little hands reaching for sunghoon’s hand and successfully grabbing one of his fingers. the baby lets out a quiet, happy noise, and sunghoon can’t help but chuckle at that.
“you look just like your appa, my love,” sunghoon whispers, feeling his heart squeezing inside his chest. “but he’s not here. i hope that’s okay.” he pauses, feeling tears well up his eyes as hanseung blurs in his vision. “i hope it’s alright that it’s just me. it’s just papa and hanseungie.”
he watches as hanseung giggle as he puts his finger in his mouth, the baby gurgling and babbling happily as if in response to sunghoon’s thoughts. sunghoon laughs wetly, leaning closer to press a kiss on hanseung’s forehead and nose, scenting his baby lightly.
his phone buzzes, and he carefully tugs his finger out of hanseung’s hold, the baby replacing sunghoon’s finger in his mouth with his own hand. sunghoon briefly wonders if he’s already teething, and makes a mental note that he would have to check if he has enough money to buy a teether for hanseung.
he checks the messages and notifications, and he doesn’t have to fully unlock his phone to know why it buzzed. one look at the date, and he knew that the day was his card due date, the total amount even larger than his paycheck for the month because of hanseung’s vaccinations. he takes a deep breath, thinking of how many more hours he can take in his two jobs to earn more, thinking if he should apply for another for some extra for hanseung’s new clothes and some toys. he thinks of where he can leave hanseung in the meantime while he would work longer hours, given that the daycare he leaves hanseung in usually closes early.
one look at the date, and sunghoon’s heart breaks even more.
sunghoon swallows down his throat. he pulls hanseung closer to him, embracing his son as the seven-month-old settles in his papa’s embrace. he adjusts his position so he can lie down, placing hanseung on his chest, one hand secured on the baby’s back. he watches his little one yawn, and sunghoon leans down to scent his baby, knowing it will lull him back to sleep in the comfort of his papa’s embrace, oblivious to his sadness and loneliness.
oblivious to the fact that it’s his papa’s birthday, and nobody else is with him to celebrate it.
sunghoon allows the tears to fall once he feels hanseung’s breath even out, careful not to jostle his son with his quiet sobs and sniffles. it’s his second birthday alone, but sunghoon thinks the reality of his loneliness hits even harder than last year. he falls asleep, engulfed in loneliness and grief, wishing especially today that jaeyun was still here, and heeseung, wherever he may be, would still remember him.
you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service.
heeseung purses his lips and closes his eyes, hands gripping his phone tight as he fights the burning rage in his chest, and the urge to throw his phone against the wall he’s leaning to. he takes a shaky inhale, and looks back at his phone. he stares at the date, the time, and sunghoon’s photo as his wallpaper that he can’t find it in himself to replace.
despite breaking his heart more than a year ago. despite leaving him alone in his grief.
he dials again, most probably for the eleventh time that night, closing his eyes when he feels his head throbbing from all the alcohol he consumed, and probably from the edm music blasted in the speakers earlier. he can still hear the distant sound of the music, laughter and cheers from inside his classmate’s house.
you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service.
“fuck.” heeseung mutters, dropping his phone on the grass as he presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, willing for his tears to stop forming, and willing for his heart to stop hurting.
didn’t he want this? for sunghoon to cut him off, to forget about him, to cut off all communication from him? isn’t that why he left?
so why does it hurt when heeseung couldn’t reach him, just a year after he left?
he just wanted to talk to sunghoon. he just wanted to say sorry, to tell him he loves him, to ask him to wait for him because he will come back.
he just wanted to greet him a happy birthday.
year 2
“you’re home earlier than i thought.”
sunghoon tilts his head, sighing as he steps inside his own apartment, door opened wide by wonyoung, his new kind neighbor who had volunteered to look after hanseung whenever he would need to work long hours. she’s kind enough to do it for free, claiming hanseung is a behaved baby who doesn’t need much supervision except for when he needs changing and feeding. it keeps her occupied too, treating caring for hanseung as her “mental health break” from studying.
“i’m home the same time as usual, though?” sunghoon asks, and wonyoung hums as she shrugs. “or am i? han-ssi told me he’ll close for tonight.”
he had closing shift earlier in the cafe two blocks away from his apartment building. his manager had been kind enough to be there and be the one to close up so sunghoon can go home after making sure all the orders of the day and payments added up. he hadn’t thought too much of it, probably his manager wanting to make sure nothing was amiss in the inventory before closing down.
he wouldn’t miss a chance to go home early, of course. he feels bad enough he couldn’t play with hanseung that much since he had to accomplish some of his online work this morning. he then had to rush a commissioned artwork in the afternoon before his shift at the cafe started. when he thought he had time after making sure his client was satisfied with his work, and that the pay was indeed in his bank account already, wonyoung had come knocking on the door, reminding sunghoon of his closing shift at the cafe, and that she’s ready to look after hanseung.
over all, it had been a busy day, and sunghoon is tired, and he feels guilty for having to put all of his work first before his own son.
but it had to be done.
“maybe it’s because it’s your birthday?” wonyoung asks, raising an eyebrow as she closes the door to look at sunghoon who pauses as he puts his bag down on the small dining table. “did you actually forget?”
yes.
“i don’t celebrate it,” sunghoon brushes off. “how did you even know my birthday?”
“it was one of the first things we talked about,” wonyoung answers with a shrug. “i said my name, my unit, school and birthday, and you said yours back. do you remember my birthday?”
“august.” sunghoon answers.
“right. you can remember my birthday, but not yours,” wonyoung says with a light chuckle. “you’re funny, sunghoon-ssi.”
sunghoon watches wonyoung gather her books and notebooks on the dining table. “hanseungie’s an angel, as usual. we used up all the milk you stored in the fridge though, and even then, he woke up hungry, so i fed him some of his mashed vegetables like you told me to. he liked it.” wonyoung says, and sunghoon nods.
“he’s growing too fast,” sunghoon chuckles. “he’s eating a lot more now.”
wonyoung smiles. “don’t get too surprised if he wakes up hungry again. those mashed vegetables were barely anything,” she jokes, making sunghoon smile. “happy birthday, sunghoon-ssi. i’ll see you tomorrow.”
“thanks, wonyoung-ssi, as usual.”
sunghoon smiles at wonyoung, the younger making sure to close the door as she leaves. sunghoon lets go of the smile on his face as he breathes out.
his birthday, huh?
is that why his client had given him an extra amount of tip on top of their agreed amount for his commission? is that why han-ssi had let him go earlier than usual from his shift, even adding some more money in sunghoon’s tip box? none of them had greeted him a happy birthday, and sunghoon hadn’t been one to check his phone especially when his day is packed and busy, so as long as he knows his bills are paid properly and on time, and he and hanseung are well-fed thrice a day (or more, for hanseung).
happy birthday, jaeyun-ah. even after all this time, i still can’t visit you.
sunghoon walks towards his bedroom, opening the door carefully to find his one-year-old fast asleep in his cot. he carefully picks him up, humming a soft tune and pressing a kiss on hanseung’s forehead as he tucks his face at the crook of his neck, right where his scent gland is. hanseung remains deep asleep, but even then, he curls himself in his papa’s embrace, rubbing his nose subconsciously in his papa’s scent gland, effectively wrapping him up in sunghoon’s scent. sunghoon rubs his son’s back gently.
he walks back out to the dining area, carefully transferring the whole of hanseung’s weight on one arm as he opens the fridge. he pauses, seeing a small, transparent box with a cake inside and a note at the front.
happy birthday, sunghoon-ssi. i hope the world will be a little kinder to you from now on.
xx jang wonyoung
he takes the note to his chest, and pulls in his son tighter to him. the last person to ever send him a cake for his birthday had been heeseung three years ago, but it felt longer to sunghoon.
does he still remember?
sunghoon shakes the thought away, closing the fridge but keeping the note in his hand. it feels unfair, he thinks, of how easy it might be for heeseung to forget sunghoon, but sunghoon could never forget about heeseung, not when his son mirrors his eyes and his face. not when one look at hanseung, all he could see was the man who once promised to spend forever with him, but is now nowhere around sunghoon anymore.
even if he does remember, all he’ll probably ever remember is jaeyun. all he would ever wish to celebrate the day with is with jaeyun.
never him. never sunghoon.
carefully, he lays hanseung on his bed, making sure to cage him with his pillows. he changes from his slacks and white shirt to his pyjamas, all while keeping an eye on hanseung. once done, he turns the lights off and lays down beside his son, wishing, like wonyoung said, that the world would be a little kinder to them from now on.
heeseung tucks his hands in his pockets, ignoring his phone buzzing and vibrating against his palm. they’re calls and texts he’d rather not take, most probably from his friend, who had set him up on a blind date tonight.
a blind date he had reluctantly agreed to, but ultimately couldn’t follow through with.
he feels like an asshole for many reasons. for one, he stood up his blind date. he didn’t even know who they were, and if they were already in the restaurant his friend texted him about. as much as he would like to apologize, he couldn’t find it in himself to. not when he feels like an asshole for agreeing on a blind date on sunghoon’s birthday.
a date with someone else. on sunghoon’s birthday. just thinking about it makes heeseung pause in his tracks, the weight in his chest so heavy that he almost fumbles on his feet.
how could he do this to him? how could he do this to sunghoon? the man he promised to love for all the years of his life, and the same man whom he had also left without turning back.
he feels the corners of his eyes prickling, but despite that, he continues to walk back to his dorm, still ignoring his vibrating phone in his hand. he needs a drink. he needs to try to forget about him, about the pain in his heart and about the guilt lingering in his conscience.
he needs a drink, just like last year. just like what he will need on the same day in the next years to come.
year 3
“papa.” hanseung whimpers, bottom lip jutting out in a pout as his teary eyes stare at the iv in his hand. the toddler sniffles as he looks up at his papa, who can only give his son a small, sad smile.
“it’s ouchy, baby?” sunghoon asks softly, reaching out to lightly glide a finger over the taped spot where the iv is. in return, the toddler nods as he grasps his papa’s finger, hoping to find comfort in his touch, hoping that by doing so, his papa can take his pain away so the both of them can go home.
and sunghoon desperately wishes for it to be so.
it has been three days since sunghoon had rushed hanseung to the emergency room. he ran inside with his toddler in his arms, crying as he tries to explain how his son was just recovering from a high fever that started four days before, when all of a sudden he vomited after not being able to eat his lunch and dinner. rashes also started appearing on his arms, so red against his pale skin, only getting redder as hanseung scratches it, as much as sunghoon would try to stop him.
sunghoon had held his son tight as hanseung screamed and cried at every blood extraction and test, each sob and cry for papa only making his heart hurt even more than it had when sunghoon rushed him in. when hanseung was finally spent and dozing in sunghoon’s arms, the doctors confirmed that hanseung had dengue fever, but it’s nothing that rehydration and medicine can’t fix.
“had it been any day later, he would’ve been in a more critical situation,” the doctor back then told sunghoon with a smile. “that was a good call, bringing him here immediately, park-ssi.”
sunghoon needed it. he needed the affirmation.
sunghoon brushes his son’s hair with his free hand, smiling when hanseung blinks up at him as he lets out another whimper. he presses his lips on hanseung’s forehead, the boy’s skin still warm, but not as warm as it had been the last couple of days. last time the nurse checked earlier, his fever dropped to 101f, and he hadn’t vomited since he was admitted to the hospital.
“you just have to get a little better, hm? just a little more,” sunghoon tells his son. “then we can remove the ouchy on your hand, and then you can go back to playing in daycare with your friends too.”
hanseung is still pouting, but sunghoon can see the little gears in his son’s heads turning. “play with papa too?” he asks, and sunghoon smiles as he nods.
“and with papa too, of course,” sunghoon agrees with a nod. he kisses hanseung’s forehead again, and the toddler hums as he rests his head back against the huge pillow. “i love you, hanseungie.”
“love you, papa.”
sunghoon hums a melody, effectively putting hanseung to sleep, the toddler still holding on to his finger, not that sunghoon ever wants his son to let go. he closes his eyes, unwilling to think about the amount of backlogs he has at work, and the upcoming hospital bill once hanseung is released from the hospital. he continues to center his thoughts around hanseung’s wellbeing, that if he was able to survive the last three years, he can still do it, especially considering his rate is higher now in his freelance work, and he’s worked with plenty of clients that have paid him well over the last few months.
as long as hanseung isn’t starving, as long as there is a roof over our heads, as long as my son is happy, that’s enough.
he opens his eyes when his phone starts buzzing with an incoming series of messages. he looks at hanseung, already fast and deep asleep, before he carefully extracts himself from the boy’s hold as he quietly gets up from the bed to retrieve his phone.
it’s from his estranged aunt, the one who took care of him when he was pregnant. the one he left behind once hanseung was born.
your eomma is asking where you are again.
i don't know where you and hanseungie are, but i hope you’re still doing well, sunghoon-ah.
if this is still your number
happy birthday, sunghoonie and jaeyunie
unlike the past years, he didn’t forget. he knows today is his birthday—his and jaeyun’s birthday. but there’s not much he can do to celebrate it if his priority right now is to make sure his son is back to full health.
besides, it’s not the first time he hasn’t celebrated his birthday. he would always think of what the use of celebrating his birthday would be if the one person he shares it with isn’t here to celebrate with him. he thinks of passing by jaeyun’s grave soon, maybe a while after hanseung gets discharged from the hospital, considering the snow storm happening recently.
without inputting a reply, sunghoon locks his phone and puts it face down. it’s not like he’s expecting anyone else to greet him, maybe apart from his neighbor, wonyoung, perhaps his boss, but at a time like this, he doesn’t think anyone will remember.
when he turns to look at his sleeping son, he thinks and wonders if the man who looks like his son would remember.
what a shame he’ll never know the answer.
heeseung wakes up to an alarm.
he fell asleep while writing his final paper. again.
he scrambles on his desk, pressing his keyboard to wake his laptop back up, as he breathes a sigh of relief when he finds that the document has been saved and backed up before he dozed off. he couldn’t afford to lose another night redoing his final chapter. he’s so close.
he picks his phone to turn the alarm off, only to realize it wasn’t an alarm that he set so he can wake from his short nap tonight, but rather an alert for a calendar reminder of what today is. what today is supposed to be.
sunghoon’s bday, it says on his phone. he has no idea why he still has it on his calendar, and why it still alerts him. he doesn’t remember when he put it on his phone and why, especially since he knows he will never forget about it, not when he spent all his life celebrating it for the two people he had loved the most.
loved. because one of them is dead, and the other one he’s not supposed to love anymore. not when he lost every right to.
one more year. heeseung sets himself one more year to finish school before coming back to korea. he swore to himself when he came to the states that none of this will be permanent, and that eventually he’s bound to come back home, hopefully to make amends, mend all broken connections and start new.
the thought seems promising but daunting. he has no idea what sunghoon would think when he comes back, and he doesn’t even know where to begin looking for him. when he tried asking his mother earlier this year about sunghoon, she hasn’t heard from him since three years ago when heeseung left. he had dropped out of college and moved, but heeseung has no idea where.
one more year, he thinks, as he tries to keep his head back to finishing his thesis.
one more year, he thinks, as he does his best to keep a certain pale-skinned beautiful omega out of his mind.
one more year.
“happy birthday, sunghoonie. happy birthday, jaeyunie.” heeseung mumbles, to nobody in particular. and just like all the years before, he throws these greetings into the void, not to be heard by those who are supposed to hear.
year 4
“hannie, baby, be careful!”
sunghoon sighs as he watches his son toddle towards the playing area, his hand tightly gripped by his uncle jongseong. he watches jongseong chuckle as hanseung squeals and points excitedly at the playground. maybe he couldn’t believe such a thing can exist indoors, as he would always find playground sets in the park they frequent.
“you don’t have to worry, sunghoon-hyung,” jungwon says, smile wide as he watches his mate guide little hanseung towards the entrance, speaking to one of the caretakers. “he’ll have a good time, for sure. and it’s also so you can eat your food without worrying about him.”
sunghoon chuckles. “i don’t think there will ever be a moment that i won’t worry about him,” he says, then releases a sigh, resigned, but nonetheless smiling. “but i’ll do my best, at least for a while.”
jungwon smiles at him. “you said you’ve never celebrated your birthday properly in the last few years. let this be a restart for you to celebrate your birthday from now on.” he says, and sunghoon nods as he smiles.
“i haven’t been to this place either, actually.” sunghoon says, looking around. it’s a fancy steakhouse a few blocks from their office, one that sunghoon hadn’t heard of, so it was probably something he couldn’t afford. when jungwon and jongseong learned about his birthday and how he doesn’t have any plans of celebrating it, the two were adamant to bring sunghoon and hanseung to this place to treat them, despite his birthday falling on a weekend.
sunghoon is lucky. he had landed in a job in a company jongseong’s family owns, and where he and his mate, jungwon, are executives in. he only started working six months ago, but jongseong and jungwon showed him kindness and compassion that is beyond what bosses normally show their employees. jungwon was quick to befriend sunghoon, and jongseong had been smitten at the first sight of hanseung.
they didn’t ask who hanseung’s other father is, nor did they ask how sunghoon wound up to become a single parent. all he knows is that jongseong and jungwon, outside of their workplace, are his two most treasured friends, who love hanseung like he’s also their own. he will forever be grateful for the both of them.
“seong-hyung heard about it opening very recently,” jungwon says, smiling as sunghoon begins to dig on his own plate of food, having gone cold as he had been focused on hanseung the whole dinner. “he knows the brand because it’s american, and he’s been wanting to try. he figured it would be nice to take you here on your birthday, especially since they have a kids’ play area.”
sunghoon hums and nods. “it’s good. the food is good,” he says sincerely. “and it’s…it’s nice, being able to eat on my own while someone else cares for hanseung.” he smiles at jungwon. “it’s a good birthday treat. thank you.”
jungwon smiles brightly. “i’m glad you like it, hyung,” he says. “and i’m glad we’re able to do something special on your birthday.”
“it’s been a while,” sunghoon says softly with a smile. “the last i did something for my birthday was when my brother was alive, before hanseung was born. since then, i’d always be too busy trying to get myself together, take care of hanseungie.”
jungwon gives sunghoon a small, sympathetic smile. “it’s really just been the two of you, huh?” he asks softly, stopping himself before he can ask or say anything else.
sunghoon nods as he smiles, grateful that jungwon still gave him the space he still needs despite the younger’s eagerness to know. “ever since i learned i was pregnant, yeah,” he says nonetheless, hoping the bit of answer was enough to satiate the younger’s curiosity. “it’s been hard, but…i know life’s been getting better for both of us, so it’s nothing i would trade for.”
jungwon’s smile widens. “it’s only going to get better from here, hyung, i promise,” he says. when he looks up, he finds jongseong already walking back to their table, the older alpha looking back once again to make sure hanseung is taken care of in the playground—and he is. “even outside of work, we’re here for you. seongie’s already so smitten with your son.”
sunghoon and jungwon laugh as jongseong sits back down beside jungwon, one arm wrapping around the omega’s shoulder as he smiles, looking at the two of them laughing. “you both seem to be having a good time,” jongseong says, then he looks at sunghoon. “hanseungie’s fine, sunghoon-ah. he’s in good hands, i promise.”
sunghoon knows, and it’s all he can ever ask for.
if heeseung’s being honest, he’s on the verge of giving up.
when he came home, he didn’t know where to begin, and it didn’t help that even his own mother had no idea where sunghoon had gone since he left their house. she didn’t know how their house was sold, and who sunghoon had been with since he dropped out of his studies.
all heeseung had was sunghoon’s online portfolio, a website of his works, open to everyone interested to commission him as an artist or animator. but when heeseung last checked, sunghoon had closed commissions and freelance work, and he had his email and any contact number removed. his online portfolio was really just there for everyone to see, last updated around ten months ago.
he knows he shouldn’t give up. he had known prior to coming home that looking for sunghoon would be hard, but he didn’t know how difficult it would be. he didn’t know if he was in seoul, didn’t know if he’s still in korea or if he followed his family to japan.
it’s also his birthday today.
he thought of visiting the cemetery where jaeyun is buried, but despite his desire to find sunghoon, he couldn’t bring himself to go to the cemetery, afraid that he would see him. the last thing he wants is to make sunghoon sad on his birthday, and he knows by common sense that it will be unpleasant for sunghoon if they do see each other. he decided to put off visiting on another day, hoping jaeyun would understand.
among many other things he had since asked for jaeyun to understand, including breaking his promise to be by sunghoon’s side at all cost.
he orders by the counter and shoots sunoo a message, responding to his friend’s message that he might also be able to come back to korea soon. he slides in a booth beside the window, across it is a new steakhouse everyone around the block had been checking out. he had been tempted to go inside and take a peek, but when he saw the long lines outside, he opted to instead try another time.
after his meal, he orders a small box of cake for a dessert takeout. he walks quietly back to his apartment, setting the box down on the small lone table in his small dining area. he unboxes it quietly, inside a small tiramisu cake.
sunghoon’s favorite.
he’s on the verge of giving up.
heeseung doesn’t know how to find him, nor does he know if he still should. each day that he spends in seoul is another day to carry the guilt of how he left sunghoon all those years back. he wonders if the universe would ever allow them to meet, if he would ever be able to make up to him. he doesn’t know if sunghoon would ever want him back, but heeseung knows he won’t take it against sunghoon if he won’t.
“happy birthday, my love.” heeseung whispers, eyes filling with tears as it’s still trained on the tiramisu. if he stares hard enough, he thinks he can imagine sunghoon smiling at him, clapping his hands while he sings a happy birthday, before he blows the candle after making a wish, like how he did five years ago.
year 5
“it’s also uncle’s birthday, papa?”
sunghoon hums and smiles, pressing a kiss on the side of hanseung’s head as the four-year-old lets out an amazed sound, as if it’s surprising to know that his papa and his “uncle inside the stone” share the same birthday.
the two of them are sitting on the grass in front of jaeyun’s grave, opting to visit him in the morning before they meet with jongseong and jungwon for lunch, just like how they did last year on his birthday as well. it’s not the first time sunghoon had brought hanseung to jaeyun’s grave. when hanseung turned two, and he had enough time in his hands, he did his best to bring hanseung and introduce him to his uncle jaeyun— “who is inside the stone”, as what hanseung had since called him, no matter how many times sunghoon would tell his son that his uncle jaeyun is an angel.
he thinks jaeyun could get a good laugh from it anyway.
“but uncle was born earlier than papa was,” sunghoon tells his son. “uncle jaeyunie and i were twins. do you remember what that is, my love?”
hanseung tilts his head, as if to think, his body swaying side to side but still within his papa’s hold. “like jungwoo and youngwoo?” he asks, looking up at his papa with wide eyes.
jungwoo and youngwoo are hanseung’s friends from preschool, identical twins and also classmates. hanseung had once admitted to sunghoon that he’s closer to jungwoo, though he still has difficulty differentiating the two.
“that’s right, baby,” sunghoon praises with a smile, making hanseung grin widely. “but uncle yunie and papa don’t look alike. he looks a bit different than papa, like in the pictures i showed you before.”
hanseung frowns, confused. “i thought twins look alike, papa.” he says, and sunghoon laughs.
“some twins can not look alike, baby,” sunghoon explains gently, and hanseung pouts in confusion. “twins are twins because they’re born together, and grew in their papa’s or mama’s tumtum at the same time. they don’t have to look alike like jungwoo and youngwoo, but most of the time, they look alike.”
sunghoon waits patiently as the explanation sinks in in hanseung’s mind. he has no idea if he was able to explain it well, let alone if hanseung understood it the way it’s supposed to, but sunghoon thinks he can always correctly explain it when he’s older.
which will be a long time, sunghoon thinks fondly, sometimes i wish he’ll stay little forever.
“i’m not twins, papa?” hanseung asks, and sunghoon shakes his head.
“no, you were the only one in papa’s tummy before,” sunghoon says, pulling his son closer to him as he brings hanseung to sit on his lap, both arms wrapping around the little boy as hanseung hums and tucks his face in sunghoon’s neck. “you are the best gift i can ever ask for, baby.”
hanseung doesn’t respond to that, only wrapping his arms around sunghoon’s neck while sunghoon closes his eyes to savor the feeling of his son’s embrace.
ever since jaeyun passed, sunghoon had never looked forward to his birthday. he hadn’t celebrated them, especially when hanseung was born, opting instead to allocate all possible resource he has for hanseung. it was only last year when he met jongseong and jungwon did he start celebrating it again, his two close friends then encouraging him to not feel guilty when it comes to celebrating why he’s still alive, even after all he’s been through.
that, and apart from the fact that sunghoon owes it to them why he and hanseung were able to move to a more decent looking apartment and how sunghoon can now afford the simple joys he had kept himself from indulging before.
hanseung becomes restless in his papa’s hold, and it’s only then that sunghoon lets go of his son, knowing his boy is ready to run around as long as his papa can see him. sunghoon smiles as he watches hanseung run, stopping to squat when he sees something that interests him on the grass.
“happy birthday to us, jaeyunie,” sunghoon says softly, eyes training back on the gravestone in front of him. his eyes then flicker to hanseung, who is singing to himself while he looks up, amazed at the wind and the falling leaves. “winter’s a bit late this year, but that’s okay. hanseung seems to love it. you would’ve loved him, and he would have loved you.”
a strong wind blows, and with it, sunghoon thinks, is jaeyun’s response. but his gaze steels in shock, when the wind also brings a familiar scent, one he hasn’t thought of for some time, one he last smelled even before he knew he was pregnant with hanseung.
his eyes flicker to hanseung, still running and playing carelessly, eyes scanning his surroundings looking for him, and when he turns his head, he finds him.
he finds heeseung.
sunghoon stands. he does it so abruptly that it didn’t go unnoticed by hanseung, who was surprised to find his papa already up. he stands so quickly, eyes trained solely on heeseung’s figure meters away from him, also staring back, that he fails to hear his surroundings. he fails to hear hanseung calling for him, and he fails to register the look of surprise on heeseung’s face when he hears.
“papa, papa,” the little boy whines, arms up as his hands try to grab on to sunghoon’s coat. sunghoon stands frozen, eyes still trained on him, but his eyes are on the small boy beside him. “papa.”
he watches sunghoon’s hand grip the boy’s hand in his, and he watches the boy’s wide eyes stare at him, scared, as he tries to hide his face in his papa’s—in sunghoon’s—trousers. when he looks back up to meet sunghoon’s gaze, his eyes are wide, glassy, filled with tears, in obvious surprise of heeseung’s presence.
heeseung had a plan. in case he’d meet sunghoon in the cemetery, he has a plan. they would talk, no matter how angry sunghoon would get. heeseung will try to explain, do his best to explain his side but still admit how he was still wrong. he accepted whatever possible outcome there would be, and he had accepted it in himself that whatever sunghoon would decide, he will respect it.
it was the least heeseung could do, the smallest gift he can give on his birthday.
heeseung, however, did not have a plan for when he would see sunghoon with a child. a child that is no less than four years old, who looks like the spitting image heeseung’s mother had of him when he was around that age.
he doesn’t know where and how to begin.
“sunghoon.” heeseung is first to speak, hoping it will dispel the tension, hoping anything will follow, hoping sunghoon will say anything.
at that moment, neither of them do.
year 6
“happy birthday, papa!”
sunghoon smiles as he opens the door, pulling it wide open as he allows heeseung, who’s carrying hanseung in one arm and a huge paper bag in the other, inside his apartment. the alpha transfers their son to sunghoon’s open arms, heeseung chuckling and closing the door while hanseung peppers sunghoon’s face with kisses, sunghoon laughing loudly as he too, presses kisses on hanseung’s face.
it’s been a year since heeseung and sunghoon reunited. it’s also been ten months in their co-parenting setup, and hanseung has just finished his week at heeseung’s. both heeseung and sunghoon are used to the setup, just as hanseung is.
being used to it, however, doesn’t mean heeseung is satisfied with it.
“did you enjoy your week with appa?” he hears sunghoon ask hanseung who hums and nods enthusiastically, making heeseung smile.
“we have a present for you before going here!” hanseung exclaims, and sunghoon looks at heeseung with a raised eyebrow as heeseung chuckles.
“before you say anything, it’s really nothing fancy, see?” heeseung says with a laugh, pulling out a fresh bouquet of flowers from the big paper bag he was carrying early. he walks over to sunghoon, who puts hanseung down as the five-year-old runs over to his room, uninterested in his parents’ shenanigans. this allows sunghoon to hold the bouquet of peonies, chrysanthemums, lilies and azaleas. “hanni and i picked all the flowers. the shop did the design the best that they could.”
sunghoon smiles and chuckles, looking up at heeseung to find the alpha’s eyes looking fondly at him. “i love it. it’s beautiful.” he says softly.
heeseung’s smile widens, and he leans down to press a kiss on sunghoon’s cheek. “happy birthday, my love.” he says softly.
sunghoon can’t even begin to comprehend how much a year can change them. on his birthday last year, he thought his world was going to crumble when heeseung saw him and hanseung in the cemetery. but after a series of conversations—most of which had been intervened and led by jongseong and jungwon, especially since they had hired heeseung in their company too—they began their co-parenting setup.
it hadn’t been easy for sunghoon, especially not when hanseung had been his whole life for almost six years, and he hadn’t really been willing to share him with anyone. but he saw how hanseung had an instant connection with heeseung, immediately loving him and accepting him as his appa with no questions asked. heeseung didn’t want to start a setup where sunghoon would be uncomfortable, but sunghoon could never deny hanseung his other father.
reluctantly, he agreed.
the first three months of their setup had been terrible for him. for the first month, he had accidentally cut off heeseung’s week into three days, when he had a panic attack after not finding hanseung inside his apartment when he got home from a long day at work. when sunghoon offered to compensate, heeseung counter-offered calling off the setup if sunghoon would be uncomfortable with it.
but sunghoon can never deny hanseung nor heeseung the chance to get to know each other, so he rejected heeseung’s offer.
despite the incident happening twice more, sunghoon eventually got used to it. he got used to heeseung’s presence far faster than he expected himself to, especially when heeseung himself is persistent in trying to get his attention even at work. he had slowly warmed up to him, and heeseung had since then become part of their little friend group, even becoming friends with jongseong and jungwon themselves.
last month, after clearing their past misunderstandings and fight that led to their breakup, heeseung expressed his desire to court sunghoon once again.
while sunghoon doesn’t see the importance of it, considering they have a son together, he appreciates the slower pace heeseung had set for them. just enough to reacquaint sunghoon with the idea of being with heeseung again, just enough for them to get used to putting hanseung first before them.
sunghoon gently puts the bouquet down on the living room table beside him, before wrapping his arms around heeseung’s neck, pressing a kiss on the alpha’s cheek before burying his face in his neck. he feels heeseung pulling him closer by the waist, and heeseung pressing a kiss on his head.
“thank you.” sunghoon says, hoping heeseung knows what he means. with the way heeseung squeezes sunghoon’s waist, he thinks he knows.
thank you for greeting me a happy birthday.
thank you for giving me hanseung when you weren’t there.
thank you for coming back to me.
thank you for waiting for me.
thank you for still loving me.