Work Text:
"Sweetheart, you know Appa can’t be late for work, right? Samchon Channie and samchon Binnie are going to get mad at me if I’m late, and you’ve already been choosing your shoes for fifteen minutes." Jisung finished combing his own hair as he spoke to Yuna, his five-year-old firstborn. The clock read nine in the morning, and for at least twenty minutes, he had been trying to convince his daughter that, with the cold weather, boots were better than ballet flats.
"Hmmm, but Appa, I really like the black boots samchon Channie gave me… but the Frozen ballet flats are so much prettier! And they match my outfit, don’t they?" Yuna looked at her father with sparkling, hopeful eyes. She was wearing a blue coat with silver details and black pants. They were absurdly late, but Jisung simply couldn’t bring himself to rush her. He sighed and crouched down to her height, defeated.
"Okay, my sweetie… But only if you promise you’ll keep the blanket on your lap when we’re in the car. No taking it off, okay? Promise?"
"I promise!" She broke into a huge, victorious grin and ran to her bedroom, carrying the ballet flats in her hands.
Jisung shook his head, chuckling softly at his own surrender, and went into the kitchen to grab the lunchbox that was still open on the counter. He barely had time to pull the drawer open to get the utensils when he heard the unmistakable sound of the electronic lock on the front door clicking open.
Minho stepped into the house with firm strides, cold air escaping between his full lips and a stern look on his face.
"Han Jisung…" he began, his voice firm and filled with disbelief. His furrowed brow was a clear sign to Han: this was “angry dad mode.” "May I ask why you’re still at home?"
Jisung froze in place, still holding the utensils.
"Yeobo… weren’t you going straight to the hospital?"
"I was." Minho held up the badge he used to access the pediatric ward, hanging around his neck. "But I forgot Leon’s evaluation report on the living room counter. San’s son. I just came back to get it and leave. I didn’t think you’d still be here." He glanced at the clock before turning his sharp gaze back to his husband. "It’s nine ten."
“I know…” Jisung muttered, defeated. “I tried to leave on time, I swear. But Yuna had a whole internal battle with herself first, then decided to pick a fight with me. She said the Frozen ballet flats Hyunjin and Lix gave her matched today’s outfit better than Chan’s boots. Trying to argue with this kid is like trying to argue with you… I always lose."
Minho sighed and began taking off his shoes with precise movements.
"It’s ten degrees outside, jagi. There’s no way that child is leaving this house in ballet flats." He crossed the hallway with determined steps. "Han Yuna, where are you? Can you come here, please?"
The little girl appeared at the end of the hallway with such a proud smile that even Minho’s heart wavered. Her eyes were shining, and he had to take a deep breath to maintain his stern expression.
"Dada, hiiiiiii! Look how pretty they look on my feet and with my outfit! Does dada think Aime will like them?"
Minho crossed his arms. He needed to stay focused.
"Nana, baby… it’s very cold outside. And do you know what cold weather does to unprotected little feet? It makes them hurt. And then you won’t be able to run around with Aime at the playground. What a shame and so sad, because I was going to ask your samchon Lix and Hyune to bring her to the condo this afternoon so she could play with you…"
Yuna hesitated. She looked down at her own feet, as though she could already imagine them freezing.
"But dada… they match so well… And they sparkle just like the little sparkles on my coat…"
From a distance, Jisung watched with his heart aching. Seeing his daughter sad, even over something so small, felt like being shot straight through the chest. Minho crouched down, gently touching his daughter’s cheek and tucking her black strands behind her ear.
"You’re beautiful no matter what, my kitty. Even in slippers, you’d be the prettiest girl of them all. But we need to take care of our bodies too, right? Dada already takes care of sooooo many sick children at the hospital… I don’t want to have to take care of you too, okay?"
He made a little pout, just like his daughter’s, and she let out a small giggle.
"How about we put the ballet flats in your backpack, and you wear the boots for now? Hm? What does my pretty little kitty thinks?"
"Oh... I can really take them with me?" she whispered, as though she were asking for a precious secret.
"Of course you can. If it gets warmer, you can ask your teacher to help you change. Deal? You can also show them to Aime and your friends if it doesn't gets warmer."
She nodded happily, hugged him, and then ran back to her bedroom.
Minho stood up and picked up the papers from the counter, giving Jisung a stern look.
"You need to learn to be firmer with her."
"YA! I am firm!" Jisung protested, offended. "I just… I completely melt when she smiles. Did you see that little pout? I can’t handle it, my heart hurts and I completely lose my mind."
Minho laughed as he approached him. He wrapped an arm around his husband’s waist and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"You’re such a softie… my little softie."
"I call you kitty every day and you call me a softie… Lee Minho, get a grip" Jisung pretended to pout, earning a loud smacking kiss in return.
Minho took a deep breath, forcing himself to let go of his husband, and walked toward the door.
"I’ll meet you at the school gate when it’s time for pickup. And I want you to call me when you get to the studio, okay? Are you listening? I want to see how long this whole shoe drama is going to last."
"Yes, sir!" Jisung joked, giving him a salute.
Minho turned the doorknob, but before leaving, he turned around one last time.
"Oh! And jagi, no plushies today"
"Even Mr. Nami?"
"Especially him. Not even if she begs. That thing desperately needs a bath." And he shut the door behind him.
Jisung laughed, shaking his head. But when he turned around to grab Yuna’s backpack, he froze.
His daughter was standing there, holding the grimy teddy bear in both hands.
"Oh my gosh..." he muttered, bringing a hand to his forehead. " Let's go to the second battle of the morning."