Chapter Text
five.
“Happy birthday, Hannie!”
Jeonghan’s jolted from his rather peaceful rest by a tiny body clambering over his own, big wet kisses all over his face, and a voice, rough and deep with sleep, quietly telling Dasom to be a little more gentle.
It’s the perfect start to this day, as perfect as a twenty-seventh birthday can be.
Eyes still closed, he wraps his arms around Dasom and pulls her as close as he can to shower her own face with kisses. She giggles and squeals, squirming in his arms in a useless attempt to get away; he has no intentions of letting her go, content to smother her in his love as best as he can. Nearby, he can make out Seungcheol’s laughter too, sweet and musical first thing in the morning. A sound he’ll never tire of.
“If you’re waking me up this early,” Jeonghan says against Dasom’s forehead, “you better have made me breakfast, stinker.”
She pushes at his face with her tiny hands, grinning wide, and his heart feels so full it might just burst. “But I can’t cook, Hannie.”
He fixes her with a look that falters immediately, a smile playing at his lips. “Then why’d you wake me up, rude girl?”
“Cheollie cooked,” she giggles.
Jeonghan looks over at his boyfriend, standing beside them with the sweetest, fondest look on his face. Hair mussed and eyes still heavy with sleep, clothes rumpled and hardly matching, he’s the only person Jeonghan ever wants to wake up to. Him, and Dasom. “Did you really cook?” he asks softly.
“Of course I did,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss Jeonghan’s temple. “Don’t sound so surprised.” And then he shifts to lift Dasom from Jeonghan’s lap, nuzzling her hair for a moment. “Why don’t you go make your bed, baby girl, and then meet me in the kitchen, so we can bring Hannie breakfast together?”
She nods eagerly, almost seven years old and literally jumping at the chance to be “an adult” (as much as pulling covers back up one’s bed makes one an adult); Seungcheol can’t put her down fast enough and then she’s literally racing out of the room without another word.
Jeonghan meets Seungcheol’s gaze and they share a fit of soft laughter at their baby’s antics. And then Seungcheol’s approaching the bed.
“What do you want to do today, darling?” he murmurs as he sits down next to Jeonghan, eyes not so subtly wandering to his lips.
And the happily in love twenty-seven year old in Jeonghan wants to call Joshua and ask him to babysit so he can spend his entire birthday in bed with his boyfriend. But the father in him wants nothing more than to curl up on the couch with Dasom and Seungcheol and watch movies. It’s this part that wins eventually, yet with a slow, deep kiss he decides to entertain the dumb kid in him for a while.
“I want to be lazy today,” he whispers against Seungcheol’s lips, reaching out to run his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I want to watch stupid movies and eat crappy food and then tonight I want you to top.”
Seungcheol grins as one of his hands skims down Jeonghan’s bare thigh, towards the edge of the shorts he’s got on. His touch is electric, breathing life and love into Jeonghan’s lungs. “I see. And what if I don’t want to top tonight?”
They share another kiss, just a soft press of their mouths that leaves Jeonghan reeling as much as anything deeper would. “But it’s my birthday,” he pouts upon pulling back, “and I want it. Please?”
Instead of responding, Seungcheol starts brushing kisses into Jeonghan’s skin, following the curve of his throat as he gently shifts their bodies down onto the bed. And Jeonghan relishes in the sensation of being pressed into the mattress, Seungcheol’s strong body above his, mouth tracing the most sensitive parts of his neck and shoulders. It’s not often that they have the time to do this, and he’s expecting Dasom to either call for Seungcheol or come busting in like she owns the place.
But for now, it’s just them and Jeonghan wants to savor it.
He lays back as Seungcheol moves above him, lips stroking over the dip of his collarbones, Jeonghan’s hands finding bare skin beneath Seungcheol’s t-shirt. “How long do you think we have?” he murmurs.
“Three more minutes, if we’re lucky,” Seungcheol says into the hollow of his throat. “So don’t even think about getting hard, love, because you’ll be taking care of it by yourself.”
Jeonghan laughs softly, greeting Seungcheol with a smile when he lifts his head, perches his cheek in his palm, elbow next to Jeonghan’s head on the pillow. Honestly, sex isn’t really on his mind anymore. Not with Seungcheol’s sweet gaze making his heart flutter like this. “You’d really abandon me and my boner on my birthday? How rude.”
“Hey, you did the same thing to me the other night - “
“Of course I did! King of the Masked Singer was on and I - “
“Cheollie!! I’m ready!!”
And with that, their alone time is effectively over. But that means Jeonghan gets food, so really he’s not complaining when he’s left chilly after the warmth of Seungcheol’s body is gone. He just burrows under the covers for a few moments, listening with love in his heart as Dasom talks with Seungcheol. Even from the bedroom, he can hear her sweet voice, telling him about the dream she had last night. Sometimes he can’t believe that they’ve only known Seungcheol for just over seven months. That he’s been in their lives for less than a year and Dasom’s so enamored with him. Somehow he’s gotten past her walls and her trauma and has found himself stuck in her heart.
Jeonghan couldn’t be happier.
Especially since the love she holds for Seungcheol has led her to open up to Mingyu exponentially quicker.
A few days ago, their most recent appointment, Jeonghan had been telling a story about her. But apparently his memory was serving him wrong because halfway through the story she’d huffed, gotten up from the drawing table in Mingyu’s office (abandoning her partially colored picture of Mingyu’s boyfriend’s cat in the process), and proceeded to tell Mingyu her version of the events in question.
All without being prompted.
They were the first words she’d ever spoken to him and she did so with as much gusto and passion as she did with Jeonghan, with Seungcheol at home. Of course immediately after she’d smacked her hand over her mouth and ran over to find comfort and hide herself in Seungcheol’s neck. But it’d happened, and Mingyu simply stared at her back in awe and adoration.
Ah yes, another development: Mingyu’s as madly in love with her as Seungcheol is. And Jeonghan can’t really blame them. Dasom is as sweet and perfect as kids come, even in her sassiest moments.
After that particular sassy moment, Seungcheol had cried when he and Jeonghan were alone that night. Heart full of love and affection, he’d whispered brokenly that he was so proud of Dasom.
Jeonghan wondered how they got so lucky, landing an absolute perfect man like Choi Seungcheol.
Honestly, he wonders that every day.
So they eat breakfast in bed, after which they spend the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon in their pajamas, alternating between napping on the couch and watching movies. Just like Jeonghan wanted. And then Seokmin and Joshua surprise them with dinner (which eventually leads to a passive-aggressive battle between Seok and Seungcheol for Dasom’s affections) and the evening finds all five of them spread out around the living room, stomachs full and hearts warm. Jeonghan opens presents - the one he knows he’ll treasure the most is a framed picture Seungcheol got him, of Dasom with the bunnies in the office - and then it’s cake time.
By eight-thirty that night, Dasom’s sound asleep, Joshua and Seokmin are on their way home, and Jeonghan’s all but passing out in Seungcheol’s arms. The last thing he remembers saying before actually falling asleep is “you owe me dick in the morning.”
And the last thing he remembers hearing is Seungcheol’s bright laughter.
The weather turns even colder and Jeonghan dedicates more and more of his time to his studies. With only a few weeks left till graduation, he comes home every evening and lets Dasom snuggle up next to him and his laptop. And then when Seungcheol’s done with work he cuddles against Jeonghan’s other side, helping out where he can. But mostly he offers his silent - sometimes very vocal - support.
Dasom opens up even more to Mingyu as the weeks go on, chattering about her Christmas list and the new friend she’s made at school (you bet Jeonghan cried when he first heard about her, a patient, outgoing saint named Jiwoo) and the books they’re reading. And everyday she writes in her journals. Everyday she draws and does her homework and reads and goes to school and falls asleep at a good time, with her rabbit plushies.
Everyday she gets closer and closer to the life Jeonghan’s always wanted for her; a “normal” one. Free of anxiety and fear and solitude. Free of worries that a six - almost seven year old - shouldn’t have.
She’s all smiles when Jeonghan graduates, greeting him with a big wet kiss when he finds them after the ceremony, an elated sort of adrenaline thrumming through his veins. And she even sticks around during the small get-together they throw afterwards, mostly just to bask in Seokmin’s love and adoration. But the fact that she’s there nonetheless and not hiding in her room… well, it only adds to Jeonghan’s happiness.
And then Christmas. They spend part of it with Seungcheol’s mother (who’s left his shitty father) and Dasom makes small talk with one of his little cousins about the family dog. She even laughs at dinner.
It’s a huge step, and all Jeonghan really wants for Christmas.
But he, and Dasom, are surprised with a trip to Tokyo to finish out her winter break; it’s presented by a cheeky Seungcheol who decides to tell Dasom about a little place called Tokyo Disneyland.
So Jeonghan spends a few days surrounded by loud little kids and lines and people. Lots of people.
Dasom eats it up. She goes on as many rides as she can, shrieking laughter and clinging to Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s hands. She meets as many characters as she can, hardly deterred by the crowds. Though there are a few instances in which it becomes too much, but other than that… she has fun, like a normal six year old.
Jeonghan will treasure that trip for the rest of his life. Mostly because in those little moments, seeing the pure joy on Seungcheol’s face as he watches Dasom take it all in, Jeonghan decides that he wants to spend forever with Seungcheol. Wants to do this with him forever. Wants to hold his hand and kiss him and wake up to him and raise Dasom with him and love him forever. Wants to be loved by him forever.
They take her and Jiwoo to the zoo for her seventh birthday, and she determines that Jiwoo is her best friend.
Jeonghan determines that Seungcheol is the best thing that’s ever happened to them. He whispers it against his lips that night, Dasom’s giggles mixing with Jiwoo’s on the other side of the wall.
Sometimes, he and Seungcheol argue. Sometimes, one of them is too tired or they’re stressed about something or whatever, and they snap. But not once do they go to bed angry. No matter how bad it was, they come back together that same night and burrow in each other’s warmth, in each other’s unconditional love. And they apologize for whatever they said, whatever they did.
They fall asleep with “I love you” on their lips, spoken through gentle kisses.
Closer to summer, Mingyu recommends cutting back their meetings to every other week; Dasom doesn’t really need weekly therapy now.
Seungcheol’s there again June twenty-fourth, two years since Seoyeon passed. And just like the year before, he’s so gentle with them both.
The only difference is this year? This year, Dasom listens to the stories. She looks at the pictures. She cries over her mother in hollow, wracking sobs that threaten to break even the strongest of Jeonghan’s resolves, clinging to Seungcheol in a way that leaves him teary-eyed.
He and Jeonghan celebrate their first anniversary the next day by asking Dasom if she’d be okay with Seungcheol moving in with them.
After that, time really seems to speed up and Jeonghan can barely keep track of the days anymore, in the best way. He starts his first teaching job at the local high school. He’s there when Seokmin and Joshua’s baby is born, hugging and kissing and crying with his friends as they welcome such a sweet, pure love into their lives.
(And he fails in hiding a blush when Seokmin’s amazing sister jokingly asks when she’s carrying a baby for him.)
He’s there with a pounding heart and shaking hands and a wide smile when Dasom participates in her school’s fall play. She has a teeny, non-speaking role, as suggested by Mingyu, and the terror is obvious on her poor little face the entire time she’s onstage. But Jeonghan’s proud of her all the same, sweeping her up into his arms afterwards with a flurry of kisses that leave her giggling and all but calmed.
He’s there for every moment of joy, every moment of stress or fear or contentment. He’s there whenever Dasom needs him, like he always has been.
But most importantly, so is Seungcheol. Without fail, he is by Jeonghan’s side through everything. He is by Dasom’s side through everything. He is their biggest support, their biggest love.
Even through the bad days.
The phone calls Jeonghan gets, the one he thinks are from his father, increase in quantity. And he never picks them up. Nor does he block the number, not even after six calls in the same day, just before winter break.
Seungcheol wants what’s best for him, and he gently - always gently - tells Jeonghan to just block the calls. To shut out that part of his life and just move on. In the end, it’ll be so much better for him than the rising anxiety that comes with every call. And Jeonghan knows he’s right; of course Seungcheol’s right. If anyone knows toxic fathers it’s him. But Jeonghan can’t seem to bring himself to actually block the number. Not when it’s the last piece of his parents that he has, intrusive as it is.
That Christmas Eve, Jeonghan makes up some excuse about running a last minute errand, and he’s not surprised to find that his parents still live in the same house. They’ve always been creatures of habit, stuck in their own ways, detrimental as those ways usually were.
But he is surprised when he sees a couple kids running out in the front yard.
Girls.
They look just like Seoyeon.
And as he watches them, chasing each other throw the snow, laughter loud enough that it echoes over the soft rumble of his car, his heart hurts. They look so young, maybe five years old, and he wonders when his parents were going to tell him.
The front door opens and he watches as his father walks out, dashing after the girls and sweeping them up into his arms easily. He kisses their heads and murmurs something, and there’s… there’s love in his eyes. Love Jeonghan has never seen looking back at him in that dark gaze.
Even now, it melts away as they regard each other from across the street, across almost thirty years of pain and pretending and misunderstandings blown out of proportion.
Jeonghan knows he should be upset. He should be angry. He should feel betrayed. And he has every right to be.
But he’s not.
His parents have their own family now, and he has his.
Taking a deep breath, he puts the car in drive and pulls out onto the street. And he doesn’t look back.
A couple years pass, and Seungcheol stays. A couple years pass, and Dasom grows up. More and more she comes out of her shell, and not because she’s asked to. No, she comes out of her shell to pursue a love of theater. She comes out of her shell to spend time with Seungcheol’s little cousin. She comes out her shell to read to Joshua and Seokmin’s toddler.
She comes out of her shell to sleep over at Jiwoo’s house so Jeonghan and Seungcheol can go out of town for their fourth anniversary.
Jeonghan takes him to Japan for a week and they spend most of it in their bed, taking advantage of a kid-free environment, or exploring together. And Jeonghan falls in love with him all over again. Holding his hand as they experience so many new things together, he comes to a decision he first made two and a half years ago in Tokyo.
They’re on a beach their last night, watching the sunset, when Jeonghan proposes. He doesn’t get on his knees; he just reaches for Seungcheol’s hand and fishes the ring box from his pocket.
“I love you so much,” he whispers as Seungcheol’s eyes fill with tears. “And Dasom loves you too. More than I thought she could love someone. But you are so impossibly perfect she just… she fell for you. And I did too.” He squeezes Seungcheol’s hand as a lump forms in his throat; overcome with the love he holds for the man in front of him, Jeonghan takes a shaky breath. He can’t find the words he needs to say, the words Seungcheol needs to hear. But he tries anyway. “I have a lot of regrets,” he whispers, “but you are not one of them. You never have been. And I want you for the rest of my life. I want you to raise Dasom with me, maybe some kids of our own eventually. I-I want you to be my husband, Seungcheol.”
“I want that too,” he whispers in a voice thick with emotion, pulling Jeonghan close so that their foreheads are touching. “It’s all I want, love.”
“Then marry me,” Jeonghan murmurs, and he’s never been so sure of anything else in his life. “Marry me, Seungcheol.”
His response is a kiss, a kiss that leaves Jeonghan’s knees weak and his heart pounding and his head swimming. A kiss that they both melt into, warmed in their love and the summer evening.
Dasom squeals when they tell her, hugging them both so tightly, and with her they plan a winter wedding. Something small and intimate and quick because Jeonghan can’t stand the fact that he’s not married to Seungcheol yet.
Something Seoyeon would’ve loved.
The day of the wedding, just before Christmas, Jeonghan wakes up crying.
This is supposed to be the happiest day of his life; he’s finally marrying Seungcheol - but he feels so empty. Like he’s missing a part of himself he desperately needs.
He opens up in Seungcheol’s arms, sobbing into his shoulder, missing Seoyeon more than he has in years.
“She was supposed to be here,” he manages between hitching breaths, trying to focus on Seungcheol’s soothing touch, fingers stroking shapes into his back. “We - we made plans for this, Seungcheol. She… she… she’s supposed to be here, watching me get married. But she’s not - she’s not and it’s not fair…”
And Seungcheol just holds him through it, always kind, always comforting. Always exactly what he needs, even if he still feels an aching sort of hollowness in his chest at the altar, wishing Seoyeon could be here, sitting amongst his favorite people in Joshua and Seokmin’s perfectly decorated backyard. But it’s enough that Dasom’s here, sitting with Jiwoo. It’s enough that Joshua and Seokmin are here with their sweet son. It’s enough that his friends from work are here, it’s enough that Mingyu’s here with his boyfriend. And as he faces Seungcheol, more than ready to marry this man, the love of his life, a stray tear slips down his cheek.
Seungcheol catches it with his thumb, smiling softly, and Jeonghan’s heart swells.
They’re married in a few words, both of them far too emotional to actually make it through any lengthy vows. And then they all move inside for the reception. Good food, good music, good company - Jeonghan’s exhausted after a couple hours, relegating himself to the back of the room, watching his loved ones enjoying themselves.
After a few minutes of solitude, he’s joined by Dasom. She sits on the chair beside him; almost eleven years old and too cool to sit on his lap now. But he gets it, of course he does.
She’s growing up.
“I heard you this morning,” she says softly, looking so much like her mother right now that it makes his heart hurt. “Crying about eomma.”
Jeonghan smiles softly, reaching out to brush pieces of hair out of her eyes. “She and I talked about me getting married every so often. I mean, she said she was against it for herself but she always wanted to see me settle down. Always wanted to see me with the right guy.” His smile widens as the memories touch his mind, even with the lump starting to form in his throat. “She said she wanted you to have three parents: her, me, and the man I married.”
Dasom’s lower lip trembles and she looks away, towards the group of their friends and family enjoying themselves. And Jeonghan follows her gaze; Seungcheol’s holding tight to Joshua and Seokmin’s kiddo so they can dance, and he’s talking with Mingyu. He just… he looks so happy, and Jeonghan can’t believe how lucky he is to be his husband.
“She’s here, you know?” Dasom whispers suddenly, almost lost to the slow ballad playing over the speakers. “I mean, like in spirit or whatever.”
Jeonghan sighs softly and reaches out to wrap his arm around her shoulder; she rests her head against him, breathing in deeply. “I think she is too, baby. She wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“Do you think she’d like Cheollie?”
“I know she would,” he whispers, stroking Dasom’s thick hair the way he would when she’d have panic attacks, years ago. It still feels so instinctual. “Even if she just liked teasing him because she was kind of evil like that - yeah, she’d definitely like him.”
Dasom giggles around a sniffle. “I’m glad you two made it. I really like him, too.”
Jeonghan breathes in and it hitches around the lump in his throat. “I don’t think you’ll ever understand how happy it makes me to hear that, baby.” And he shifts a bit to kiss her head, trying to hold back his tears. He’s always hated crying in Dasom’s presence, has always tried not to if he can help it… and then she sniffles again. And again.
“It’s not fair,” she whispers, lifting her head and meeting his gaze with misty eyes, breaking his heart so easily. “I miss her.”
“I miss her too,” Jeonghan murmurs and his voice cracks. “And she should be here but… she’s not. And we can’t focus on that, baby. We - we have to focus on the people around us and remember that no matter what, she always loved us.”
Dasom nods, reaching up to wipe at her eyes. Jeonghan does too, both of them laughing softly when their fingers come back tinged with black mascara that’s definitely not waterproof. And then she throws her arms around his neck, hugging him so tight.
“I love you, Hannie,” she whispers.
And he holds her like he’s never adored someone more. He holds her like she is his world, like she’s the greatest thing he’s ever done. “I love you so much, Dasom. I always will.”
They stay like that until Jiwoo comes to collect her friend, pulling her laughing onto the makeshift dance floor. And Jeonghan’s left to wipe away his own tears.
But not for long.
Seungcheol comes over a few minutes later, plopping down in the chair Dasom vacated with a heavy sigh, and reaches for his hand. Wordlessly, he brushes kisses on each of Jeonghan’s knuckles and then turns his hand over to kiss his palm. And Jeonghan lets him, closing his eyes as Seungcheol soothes him.
“I know today has been bittersweet for you, love,” he whispers into Jeonghan’s skin, “and I’m sorry. I wish she was here with you.”
Jeonghan breathes in, he breathes out. He pictures Seoyeon and her sweet smile and the way she always knew what to say - how wise she seemed even though she was the younger sibling. He remembers how she was with Dasom, how fully and sincerely she adored her daughter. He remembers how hard those first few months without her were, how he’d curse and cry sometimes because he didn’t understand why she had to die. “I don’t,” he whispers. “I mean, I do. Of course I do. But… I’ve learned how to live without her. Dasom’s learned how to live without her. And that’s okay. We’re okay. You know?”
“I do.” Seungcheol kisses his fingertips and they descend into silence, watching their loved ones, their family.
This time of day, the cemetery is quiet, all but empty. Peaceful, really. And Jeonghan takes his time as he walks. The morning air, crisp and warm with a summer breeze, is refreshing and he breathes it in, letting it fill his lungs like a fresh start.
Like letting go.
He finds Seoyeon easily enough and sits in front of her quietly. And at first, he doesn’t speak. He just looks at her headstone, at the words he had etched into stone. Devoted mother, treasured sister.
“I’m sorry I don’t visit as often as I should,” he whispers. “But it’s hard to find the time. I’m - I’m so busy now. You know, work and appointments and… and kids.” A soft sighs leaves his lips, lost to the gentle wind. “Five years feels like such a long time but it-it also doesn’t. I just… when Cheol reminded me that it was coming up, I… I couldn’t believe it at first. Five years?”
He breathes in, and out. It shudders.
“Dasom’s so beautiful, sprout,” he murmurs. “She turned eleven this year and - and I mean, she had a big party. Like, fifteen friends. I fucking cried when she told me. She’s doing so well, she’s so perfect. You’d be so proud of her.”
He tells Dasom that every day.
“I think you’d be proud of me too,” he whispers. “I graduted and I got married and I have kids and I turned thirty… I’m all grown up now, sprout. I own a house and everything. And um, Seungcheol and I just adopted a baby. A girl. He said we should name her after you so we - we did.”
He breathes again, and it trembles again. It’s hard, around the knot in his throat, in his chest.
“Don’t worry, you’ll always be my sprout. But god, she’s so sweet. I just… oh, what was it you said when - when you held Dasom for the first time? That she just felt right, like she belonged with you, in your arms? Yeah, little Seoyeon feels like that too. And Seungcheol adores her. He’s so perfect with her, with Dasom. With me, too. I don’t think I’ll love anyone as much as I love him.”
And here, words fail. He isn’t sure what he wants to say; he just reaches out and he touches the words carved into the headstone. They’re cold beneath his fingertips.
His phone rings and he answers the call with a smile.
“Hey baby,” Seungcheol says softly, sounding like home and sunshine. “Are you ready for us to come meet you?”
“Yeah,” he responds. “I’m ready.”
“We’ll see you soon then, baby. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he whispers, and he feels it in his heart, in his soul.
Maybe twenty minutes later, Seungcheol arrives with Dasom and baby Seoyeon and they all sit in front of the headstone, Jeonghan cradling his little daughter in his arms. And none of them speak; there are no words, nothing that needs to be said.
Dasom sits in Seungcheol’s lap, holding tight to the arm he wraps around her, just like she did when she was little. Her eyes brim with tears. And Seungcheol’s other arm winds its way around Jeonghan to draw him and Seoyeon close.
They stay like this for as long as they can, clinging to each other, swallowing tears that they won’t shed because Seoyeon doesn’t want them. No, today is a happy day. Today they’re together, the five of them.
“Thank you for being here,” Jeonghan whispers, tilting his head to kiss Seungcheol’s already greying temple.
“Of course, love,” he murmurs, and their noses brush as they turn towards each other. “I’m always here for you.”
“I know you are.” He settles against Seungcheol with a soft sigh, one of Dasom’s hands coming up to hold his. And baby Seoyeon squirms in his arms, gurling as she looks up at him with the most beautiful brown eyes.
“Sommie,” he murmurs, “do you remember that day when your mother tried to bake cookies and she almost burned down our apartment?”
Her giggle is like music to his ears, and he strokes her hand in his. “Barely! I was, like, four right?”
“Sounds like she got her baking skills from you, Hannie,” Seungcheol says with a shit-eating grin, and warmth fills Jeonghan’s body just like it does every time he looks at his husband.
“I’m getting better,” he retorts. “I made that cake for Mingyu’s birthday and it turned out all right, didn’t it?”
Seungcheol looks at Dasom and they erupt into laughter that echoes off of the trees. “That’s just what he told you!” Dasom says.
“Yeah, he’s too nice to say anything otherwise,” Seungcheol agrees, kissing Jeonghan’s temple as if that will make up for this insult against him.
“Whatever,” Jeonghan huffs. “Mingyu loves my baking. Anyway, I was telling a story before I was so rudely interrupted.”
Seungcheol grins, his cheeks turning the softest shade of pink. He’s so handsome. “Go ahead, baby. Seoyeon almost burned down the kitchen…”
Once again, Jeonghan snuggles against his husband, bringing his baby up to his shoulder to kiss the fine hairs on her head. And he tells the story. He talks for as long as he can, spurred on by the adoration in Seungcheol’s eyes, the fondness and nostalgia in Dasom’s. He talks until he feels at peace, wrapped in warmth and love.
He talks, happiness swelling in his heart.
And when he finishes, they descend into quiet once more. Seungcheol nuzzles his head with a soft sigh. “Should we head home? Get some lunch?”
Devoted mother. Treasured sister.
He smiles and leans against his husband. “Let’s stay here just a bit longer, okay?”