Chapter Text
The morning sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains like golden mist, casting soft streaks across the wooden floor of Changbin’s sister's home. She asked if they could stay over for the weekend due to a work trip she has to go to. Of course, being the smitten uncle he is—Changbin said yes, so here they are. The scent of fried eggs and syrup lingered faintly in the air, mingling with the low hum of cartoons playing faintly in the background.
Hyunjin stood barefoot in the hallway, arms loosely crossed, dressed in one of Changbin’s oversized hoodies. His long hair was still messy from sleep, tied loosely at the nape of his neck.
In the next room, he could hear Sua’s giggles echoing like bells.
He stepped forward, quietly, and leaned against the doorway that led to the kitchen. There they were—Changbin and Sua—his husband crouched down by the dining table, holding a napkin with both hands as he gently wiped syrup from his 4-year-old-niece's cheeks. The little girl was perched on a booster seat, legs swinging freely, her pink unicorn sweater already stained from breakfast.
“Did you know unicorns can do ballet, uncle?” Sua asked seriously, puffing her cheeks.
Changbin gasped. “What? Really? I thought they only did jazz!”
“Nooo,” Sua giggled. “Ballet’s better. That’s how they win the dance battles!”
“Ohh, I see, I see,” Changbin nodded along, eyes twinkling. “So graceful attacks. Dangerous.”
Hyunjin covered his mouth to keep from laughing.
He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but this—this—was a moment he couldn’t look away from.
Changbin, kneeling in front of Sua like she was royalty, listening to her every word like it was gospel, gently adjusting her hair and handing her a sippy cup with all the reverence of a sacred act.
Hyunjin’s chest swelled with something he didn’t have a name for.
Because as beautiful as Changbin looked in his fitted blazers, backstage at events, or with a mic in his hand—nothing compared to this. To the soft curve of his smile when Sua laughed. To the way he tucked her hair behind her ear so naturally, so lovingly, like he’d been doing it all his life and Hyunjin—who had always danced along the edges of this kind of love, afraid to wade in too deep—was starting to feel something shift.
He’d told Changbin before: I don’t think I’m good with kids.
It was true.
He hadn’t grown up around them. No siblings. No younger cousins. No chaotic sleepovers or birthday parties with toddlers tugging at his sleeves. His childhood had been pristine—silent hallways, expensive furniture, quiet car rides. The kind of home where mess was frowned upon and affection was… rare.
So when the topic of children came up early in their relationship, Hyunjin had been honest. “I don’t know if I’d be a good parent. I don’t think I have it in me.”
Changbin had simply nodded. No disappointment. No gentle persuasion. Just understanding.
“That’s not something we have to force. If we want it one day, we’ll talk again. If we don’t, that’s okay too.”
That was what made loving Changbin so safe. So easy. There was never pressure. Just patience. But lately, something had begun blooming in him. Something he didn’t recognize at first. A warmth that crept in slowly, like sunlight warming the floor in winter.
Mid-morning, Hyunjin found Sua in the spare room, crayons scattered across the floor like spilled treasure. She looked up the moment he walked in.
“Un'ca Hyunnie!” She beamed, holding up a coloring book. “Come sit with me! I saved you the glitter crayons!”
Hyunjin smiled, soft and small, and sank down beside her. “You know how to get me, huh?”
She giggled and handed him a page with a garden scene—flowers, butterflies, a little frog.
Hyunjin picked up a violet crayon and began filling in one of the tulips.
Sua watched him closely, head tilted. “You’re really good at coloring,” she said after a while.
“Thank you, Sua-yah.”
“You color like a real artist!"
"Well, I am an artist." Hyunjin giggled when Sua's mouth formed an 'o'. She looks cute with her plump cheeks that reminds Hyunjin of steamed baos.
"That's so cool! You made the flower look really pretty!" She pointed at Hyunjin's work which he just added some simple shadings for some dynamic and depth. The toddler turned to him with huge twinkling eyes. "You're so pretty too Un'ca Hyunnie, pretty like a flower.”
Hyunjin stilled for a moment.
“You think I’m like a flower?”
Sua nodded firmly. “A very pretty one. With shiny petals and nice hair.”
He bit back a laugh, touched more deeply than he expected. “Do you think you’ll be like a flower one day?”
Sua blinked. “Mmm… I hope so.”
Hyunjin’s chest ached. He reached over and tucked one of her curls behind her ear, his voice tender when he spoke.
“You already are,” he said softly. “You’re the prettiest flowerbud I’ve ever seen.”
She smiled bashfully.
“My flowerbud,” Hyunjin whispered. “My sunshine bloom.”
Her eyes sparkled as she carefully clambered on his lap and snuggling close, small and trusting.
Outside the doorway, Changbin had paused on his way to the laundry room.
He watched, frozen. Hyunjin, sitting on the floor, crayon in hand, letting Sua sit on him while he colors with her. Hyunjin would usually want to be left alone when he's working on something but he lets Sua around him. He wasn’t just tolerating her—he was adoring her. His gaze was soft. His voice was gentle. His entire body language radiated care.
And in that moment, Changbin knew.
Something had shifted.
Something important.
Later that evening, after dinner, after Sua had knocked out from a long day of being a tornado of joy, Hyunjin sat with Changbin in the kitchen. The dishes were drying in the rack, and the sound of a gentle lullaby floated in from the baby monitor.
Hyunjin nursed a cup of tea, eyes far away.
“Bin,” he said softly.
“Mm?”
“I think I’m scared of wanting more.”
Changbin turned, attentive. “More?”
“A family,” Hyunjin admitted. “I think I’ve been afraid to even picture it. Afraid I’d fail at it. Or not feel the way I’m supposed to. I didn’t grow up with this kind of… love. I realized I wasn’t scared because I didn’t want it. I was scared because I wanted it so badly, and I didn’t think I was allowed”
Changbin’s hand reached for his instinctively. “Hey,” he said, “you don’t have to justify your fears. I know. I’ve always known.”
“But today…” Hyunjin paused. “When Sua said I looked like a flower, and asked if she’d be one too… I don’t know. It made something bloom in me. Something that said maybe—I do want this. Not because I think I have to. But because... maybe I want to love someone like that. Also, when I look at you—how you are with her or with any literally any kid you meet, I want to grow into that with you. I want to build that with you. I want to be someone’s home. ”
Changbin’s throat worked hard around the lump building there.
“You’d be the most loving dad,” he said quietly, with a soft smile that's only for Hyunjin. “Not because you’d know all the rules. But because you’d care enough to learn. Because you’d love them the way you love everything you touch—slow, deep, and forever.”
Hyunjin looked up at him then, eyes glistening. “Do you still want it? With me?”
Changbin smiled like it was the only truth he’d ever known. “I’ve only ever wanted it with you.”
They leaned in, foreheads touching, breathing in the soft, sacred stillness.
“I don’t know when,” Hyunjin whispered. “But someday. Maybe one day.”
Changbin kissed his temple.
“I’ll wait for you. Always.”
Later that night, Hyunjin peeked in at Sua, curled up under a blanket, snoring softly, cheeks flushed from sleep.
He tiptoed in, gently adjusted the covers, and kissed her forehead.
“Goodnight flowerbud,” he whispered again, this time with his whole heart behind it and outside the door, Changbin smiled to himself, chest full of quiet, overwhelming love.
Because this?
This was the beginning.
Maybe not now.
Maybe not tomorrow.
But maybe one day, Hyunjin would hold their own child in his arms and call them his flowerbud, and it would all come full circle.
And in that moment, he wasn’t afraid anymore.
He was just—ready.