Work Text:
Beep beep, beep beep, beep beep
The incessant sound of Seonghwa’s phone alarm clock rang, echoing in the cold bathroom. He paid it no mind, occupied with more pressing matters. A single pink line glared at him from where it sat on the counter. His head throbbed from all the crying he had done mere minutes ago, his body growing colder as he sat curled up on the tiled floor.
He had just about resigned himself to living on the bathroom floor when a knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts.
“Hey, my love, are you alright?” The voice called out, concern clear as day. Seonghwa could almost see the frown on his husband's face, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to answer.
Apparently, Hongjoong was not expecting an answer anyway as he burst right in. The man frantically checked the room, but nothing was out of place, aside from his lover seated on the tiles, just short of the fluffy white mat, and an open box containing pregnancy tests. From where he was standing, he could just barely see the multitude of tests sticking out of the trash can. There was one more on the counter, and he walked closer, picking it up, little concern for where it had been.
He breathed out, “Oh, Hwa,” but he couldn’t continue speaking, not knowing what to say to make it better. He could not change the negative pregnancy test results. He could not protect his husband from the crushing weight of a single pink line. Setting it back down on the counter, Hongjoong sat next to Seonghwa and pulled the trembling man into his arms. They sat there in silence, Seonghwa’s alarm having stopped ringing some time ago, until finally Seonghwa spoke, his face buried in Hongjoong’s shoulder.
“I can’t do this anymore, Joongie,” his voice quivered. He seemed to have lost all energy; his shoulders slumped, his hands lying listlessly on his lap. Hongjoong could do nothing but hold him tighter, praying that it would be enough to keep the man in his arms from splintering apart completely. “I’m- I’m just so tired. We’ve been trying for so long, and I just can’t get pregnant. And I know you want a baby, and I want one too, Joong, and I’m so sorry that I’m taking this away from you-”
“Stop,” the interruption came out much harsher than he had intended, but Hongjoong could not bear to listen to his husband talk so poorly of himself. “It’s not your fault, and you’re not taking anything away from me. When I said I wanted a family, all that meant was that I wanted to be with you. Kids or no kids, you are what matters most to me, my love. You’re all the family I need, okay?”
Even though Hongjoong was torn apart, his first priority would always be the man he vowed to love and cherish forever. Although he wanted children too, he knew how much strain and pressure it had put on Seonghwa, the man growing quieter as the weeks passed, somehow believing that he had failed. All he cared about was showing Seonghwa that no matter what, they had each other, and that’s what family was.
Still holding him in his arms, Hongjoong stood up, pulling Seonghwa up with him, and led him out of their en-suite bathroom to the bed. Seonghwa shuffled slowly, letting Hongjoong tuck him back into bed.
It was early morning when Seonghwa had spiralled in his thoughts, unable to sleep well unless he checked whether he was pregnant or not. Not knowing the answer was eating him up inside; however, now that he knew, the effect was just the same, if not infinitely worse. Hongjoong placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, then the tip of his nose, and lastly, his lips, lingering there for a second longer before he pulled away. Seonghwa shut his eyes tight, trying to prevent any tears from escaping, as he listened to Hongjoong tidy up the bathroom. It wasn’t long until he joined Seonghwa back in bed, shuffling impossibly closer and draping himself over his husband. He could hear him whisper kind words into his shoulder before he succumbed to sleep, exhaustion from the morning catching up to him.
Seonghwa moved around the kitchen with practised ease, checking on a boiling pot and then turning his attention back to the meat he was preparing. Steam rose, unable to fill up the large kitchen. The couple had gotten it redone last Christmas when Seonghwa complained that he had no space to bake with his friends. Hongjoong had peered at him incredulously over the rim of his glasses, his laptop forgotten in favour of addressing his husband. He asked whether Seonghwa was planning on hosting cooking classes in their home, to which the response was an eyeroll and a shake of his head. He then questioned why on Earth Seonghwa’s friends were leaving their own homes to use their kitchen, and Seonghwa frowned at him, stating that it was just a typical friend’s hangout session, throwing in a jab that Hongjoong wouldn’t know what that meant since he had no friends. Hongjoong stared at him for a moment before promptly turning back to his work, causing Seonghwa to bring the arsenal in a moment of desperation. He pouted at his husband and claimed that he wanted to have enough space for their future kids to cook and bake with him. He got the kitchen renovated a month later.
Warm hands clutching his waist jolted him out of his thoughts.
“Hello, dear,” Seonghwa spoke smoothly, albeit a bit breathlessly from being frightened, “You’re home earlier than usual. Should I be concerned?” There was a slight smile on his face, but he was secretly worried something had happened. After all, the man was back home a whole hour before time, and being married to Hongjoong for so long, Seonghwa knew practically nothing could get him out of the studio.
His husband said nothing for a while, opting instead to nuzzle closer, bringing his nose to Seonghwa’s wool sweater and breathing in the calming scent. “I think we should discuss it over dinner.” Was the only response Seonghwa received.
He normally took his time, ever the perfectionist; however, he could not help but feel nervous at his lover’s vague words. He rushed through dinner, setting the dining table where Hongjoong now sat, his laptop open on the table. It was clear that he hadn’t finished work then, which only served to worsen Seonghwa’s nerves.
Hongjoong had reassured him that morning that they could be a family, but what if he changed his mind? What if he realised how much he truly wanted children and knew Seonghwa was unable to give them to him? Were they about to get a divorce? In the back of his mind, he knew that these worries were illogical and that Hongjoong loved him more than anything, but the stress from the past months, combined with that morning’s breakdown, had him feeling less than rational. Almost vibrating in his seat from worry, his chopsticks fell out of his hands when Hongjoong finally addressed him.
“I’ve been thinking, Hwa.” his voice was clear, but there was an underlying hint of nervousness. “What if we adopted?”
Neither of them spoke, Seonghwa out of shock and relief at the lack of divorce announcement and Hongjoong out of anxiety at the abrupt suggestion. He wondered for a second if it was insensitive somehow, and if he had hurt Seonghwa with his question.
Seonghwa reached down to pick up his chopsticks, placing them on the side and reaching for a new pair that he always kept on the table (his husband was a clumsy man, sue him).
“Are you sure about that, Joongie?” The question came out timidly. “I know how much you wanted the baby to look like us.”
Hongjoong shook his head firmly, his freshly dyed orange hair swaying with the motion, “That’s not important to me. I’ll love them regardless. Unless you don’t want to…” he trailed off, once again nervous.
“No, I- if that’s what will make you happy. Since I can’t give you kids of your own-”
For the second time that day, Hongjoong cut his lover off, “Enough with that, my love, I told you it doesn’t matter to me. And most importantly, do you want to adopt? Because we can put this whole conversation behind us and try something else if you don’t want to.”
“No,” Seonghwa spoke decisively, “Please, I-I want to try.” He sounded close to tears, and Hongjoong held his hand comfortingly, “I want to grow our family.” The last words were a barely spoken whisper, but Hongjoong heard them all the same.
They discussed all they could at the dinner table, all through dinner, while washing the dishes, and while preparing for bed. It was only when they were tucked safely within each other’s warm embrace that they took a breath, finally ridding themselves of the oppressive mood that had loomed over their shoulders for the past months.
“I love you, Kim Hongjoong.”
“I love you even more, Park Seonghwa.”
“Kim Hongjoong, if I have to wake you up one more time, I’m forbidding you from touching me ever again!”
That seemed to be the perfect incentive to get his husband bolting out of bed and into the bathroom to take a shower.
It was Saturday, a week and a bit after they discussed adopting, and now they were going to visit the agency. The previous week was filled with calls and brief meetings with the social workers, who informed them of how the whole process would look. Now, they would be meeting the kids, and hopefully, if all went well, filling out adoption papers. Of course, they wouldn’t be able to do everything in one day, but Seonghwa was nothing if not optimistic, a bit naïve too, according to Hongjoong.
Once he had wrangled his disorganised husband into their car, shoving the bags with necessary paperwork into the backseat, Seonghwa climbed into the passenger seat and buckled his seat belt. He was ready.
“And if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.” The social worker, Eunkwang, said with a bright smile. The man had been more than helpful in directing them through the meeting, explaining that they would be meeting the child in a small play area where they could get acquainted. He led the couple through a well-lit corridor, children's paintings covering the majority of the bottom part of the walls. The higher parts were decorated with more professional art that was a clear portrayal of the adorable drawings beneath them. Reaching the room, Eunkwang held the handle and turned to face the men.
“Are you ready?” he asked and was met with eager nods. “I’ll be right across the hall if you need anything; otherwise, I’ll be back in 45 minutes.”
The couple thanked him once more before he swung open the door, ushering them inside and shutting it softly. The boy on the mat glanced up at the noise, observing the two strangers in front of him. His eyes were wide in apprehension, and Seonghwa took a step forward and then crouched, not wanting to overwhelm the child, yanking his husband to follow suit.
“Hi, dear,” His voice was soft, and Hongjoong swore he fell in love all over again. “My name is Seonghwa, and this is my husband, Hongjoong. We came to play with you today. Is that okay?”
He received a timid nod in response.
Hongjoong spoke this time, keeping his voice as soft as his husband’s, “Can you tell us what your name is?” Of course, they already knew his name, having read his file, but Hongjoong figured it was best if the boy introduced himself.
The child looked back down, the toy truck he was playing with now abandoned. Shyly, his voice came out in a squeak, “I’m Yunho, I’m 3 years old.”
“What a nice name, Yunho,” Seonghwa smiled at him. “Were you playing with the car before we came in?”
Yunho nodded and then added, “It’s not a car, it’s a truck.”
“Wow, you’re so smart!” Seonghwa clapped his hands together, excited to get the boy talking.
Hongjoong jumped in, “Do you like trucks then, Yunho?”
“Mhm, but this one’s my favourite truck.” He picked it up, making driving sounds with his mouth.
“It really is a lovely truck.” Seonghwa agreed. Yunho then gasped, his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips set in a pout. Fear shot through Seonghwa’s heart as he thought he had said the wrong thing, but Yunho just got up and rummaged in a box in the corner before returning, two more trucks in each hand. He stuck them out at the couple, waiting until they took them to sit back down with his own toy truck.
“You didn’t have trucks, so I was sharing. So now we can all play.” He explained innocently, smiling up at them.
Seonghwa’s heart melted, and he knew his husband was feeling the exact same thing. Their family was complete.