Work Text:
❀
Jongin has a new neighbor.
“They moved in last Saturday,” Taeyong points at Apartment 1020 — right across Jongin’s Apartment 1014 — while trying to balance three bags in one hand. They’re local confectionery and souvenirs Jongin bought during his business trip to Taiwan. “Three people, from what I heard from the manager. I guess it’s a family.”
Jongin reaches for the key fob in his back pocket. “How come you know more about my neighbor than me?”
“Because I was here when they moved in,” Taeyong rolls his eyes, like he’s stating the obvious. “To take care of Ryoma. For free. On the weekend.”
If Taeyong wasn’t occupied with the bags, he’d karate chop the air after each punctuation for emphasis. The door opens, and Jongin makes a dash towards the southeast, ignoring Taeyong’s protest as he struggles with Jongin’s luggage.
“Hello, Ryoma,” Jongin says, pressing his face against the fish tank. Ryoma bubbles at him. He doesn’t look excited, but the edges of his fins gleefully drift in the water like a three-dimensional shadow, so it’s still a win.
“He’s delighted to see you,” Taeyong says mockingly as Ryoma swims back to his tiny castle and plays with the colored rocks that Jongin didn’t see last week before he left. Jongin frowns. “Taeyongie, did you buy Ryoma new rocks?”
“I did. He loves them.”
“He does,” Jongin hums. “They’re rainbow-colored rocks?”
“Yeah,” Taeyong says, inspecting a box of mask sheets that Jongin picked up randomly in Cosmed. “But rocks cannot replace companions. You should consider bringing him a boyfriend.”
Oh no, it’s coming. Jongin braces himself for impact. “Or maybe you should find a boyfriend?” Here we go, Jongin thinks grimly. “Perhaps a girlfriend. It doesn’t matter. You need to get laid and have a solid human presence in your life.”
Taeyong wasn’t this mean two years ago when he sat across Jongin and Jongdae in the original Studio 94’s office in New York. Taeyong was quiet and polite; he used an elegant manner of speech to explain the reason why he quit his previous job at Barnes & Noble without divulging the fact that his supervisor was an infamous dickhead with a pea-sized brain. A person can change a lot in two years.
“I’m married to my work,” Jongin pouts. “Studio 94 is my baby.”
Taeyong glares at him with undisguised judgment smothered over his face, but it’s also 6 PM and Jongin knows his executive assistant has had a long day with back-to-back meetings before he goes to pick up Jongin at Incheon. “Whatever, I’m out,” Taeyong sighs softly and readjusts his jacket. “Do you need me to order chicken delivery for you on my way back?”
“It’s alright, mom,” Jongin drawls, pulling Taeyong into a quick goodbye hug. “I’ll go for a walk and find something to eat later. In case you haven’t noticed, I can take care of myself.”
“You tripped over your untied shoelace earlier,” Taeyong says. It was because Jongin got excited seeing Taeyong with his favorite latte. He’s sick of milk tea after one week in Taiwan. He misses the latte. “Anyway, I’m leaving. Call me if you need anything. If you see your neighbor, go over and say hi. If they’re nice enough, maybe they can help you feed Ryoma when—”
“Oh my god, yes, I’ll buy a cake and introduce myself tomorrow. Happy? Now just go and enjoy your evening. Don’t worry. I will not call you. Ever.”
“You’re insufferable,” Taeyong grumbles, but Jongin knows he doesn’t mean it.
When Taeyong disappears around the corner, Jongin stares at the white door of Apartment 1020. There’s no light coming through under the door; his new neighbors are probably not home yet. Maybe Jongin should really buy a cake — not because Taeyong nags him to, but because it would be convenient to make an acquaintance or two so Taeyong doesn’t have to drive all the way to Jongin’s apartment just to feed Ryoma every time Jongin is away on business trips.
“I’m going to socialize for you,” he tells Ryoma. Ryoma’s fins flare, but he makes no attempt to swim down to converse with Jongin. “Who knows, they may have another handsome fish that could be your boyfriend or something.”
For a moment, Jongin thinks he sees the fish lift up his tiny head and look at him. Then, Ryoma starts swimming laps around the tank. Jongin hasn’t seen him this active in such a long time. He stares, and wonders whether Taeyong was actually serious when he said Ryoma needed a fishie companion.
❀
When Jongin tells Taeyong he can take care of himself, what he means is he’ll accidentally fall asleep for three hours and only wakes up due to hunger.
The GS25 store next to his apartment building is not an ideal place to look for his first authentic Korean dinner after a week living off foreign dishes, but Jongin is too hungry to wait for delivery. He picks up a kimchi fried rice lunch box, a can of green tea and a bag of Lay’s. That’s enough to keep him full tonight. He’ll ask Taeyong and Ten to eat lunch and go grocery shopping with him tomorrow.
Jongin is flipping through a magazine he takes from the rack when Jisung the cashier says, “We have a buy one get one promotion with Lay’s. For every purchase of Lay’s, you get a free peach soda.”
“I don’t drink peach soda,” Jongin says.
“Me too,” Jisung agrees. “That’s why I beg you to please come get one from the cooler and take it home with you. Last week I had to drink peach soda three times a day because customers kept telling me they didn’t need it and gave me their reward. My room now smells like a giant pot of peach soda. My roommate is going to kick me out if I bring back one more can.”
Jongin blinks. “That’s….tough.”
“That’s horrible,” Jisung shivers. “I dream about peach soda. And in my dream they can move. They have legs.”
“....I’ll go get the soda now.”
Jongin almost doesn’t notice him if not for the misplaced candy bar. Being a designer means being well-versed in the fundamentals of patterns and color theory, and while that sounds smart, it also means that Jongin gets annoyed easily upon seeing bad color combinations, such as the red, rectangular candy bar currently lying in front of a row of bright yellow, round bubble gum boxes. Feeling offended on behalf of designers around the world, Jongin picks up the candy bar and heads to the corner aisle to return it to its aesthetically rightful place.
There, he spots him.
A small kid, no more than 3 or 4, with fluffy black hair and is dressed in a grey linen overall and a dog-print sweater. He has his back facing Jongin, soft, mochi cheeks puffing out as he stands on his tiptoes to reach for something on the top shelf, which is a mission impossible because the kid is tiny. Tiny hands, tiny short legs, tiny adorable shoes. Jongin follows his line of sight and finds a bunch of chocolate chip cookies wrapped in transparent bags and pink ribbons. He smiles and slowly walks over, then stops when he’s a few steps behind so he won’t scare the kid.
“Hey, buddy.”
The kid perks up at his voice and turns around. Jongin tries not to swoon; he doesn’t want to make a scene, but this is undoubtedly the most adorable kid he’s ever seen. And he will not hesitate to say it out loud in front of Raeon and Rahee, his beloved nephew and niece. The kid has sun-kissed skin, sparkling brown eyes with sharp, impressive eyebrows and plump lips that naturally set into a pout. Jongin wants to melt into a puddle of coos.
Sadly, there are responsibilities that come with being an adult. One of which is to act like a normal helpful person. Jongin points at the cookies. “You want a cookie?”
The kid cranes his little neck to follow Jongin’s finger, then he lets out an excited, “C...cookie!”
“Hold on,” he tells the kid. “I’ll get it for you, alright?”
In his 27 years of existence, Jongin has climbed mountains, won a marathon race, walked on runways for high-end fashion houses, had a TED talk in front of thousands of people, won awards, made strawberry jam from scratch, and many more, but he’s never been as proud as he is now, when he grabs a cookie from the shelf and hears the sound of tiny hands clapping for him.
He turns around and steps closer until he’s in front of the kid, then crouches down on his eye level. The kid’s big, brown eyes widen, almost comically, but he doesn’t move away. Jongin takes it as a good sign, so he extends his left hand as a demonstration and gently asks, “Can you do this?”
The kid nods, slowly stretching his chubby hand towards Jongin. Jongin breaks into a huge smile, directed at the kid, as he puts the cookie into his hand. “Here you go, buddy.”
Jongin expects a thank-you, or at least a smile in return, because the kid doesn’t seem like the shy type. He’s literally wandering around the store on his own and trying to get what he wants without using every kid’s lethal secret weapon (read: his tears), so he’s quite a brave and independent kid.
Jongin smiles again, making sure that his smile appears brighter and friendlier than ever. “What’s your name?”
To his surprise, the kid’s face turns red. He clutches the cookie in his hands with a grip too tight Jongin worries the cookie may break. “C..Chunghee.”
“Alright, Chunghee,” Jongin says. He quickly glances around to see if he could find Chunghee’s parents, because he’s kinda freaking out as well, since the kid’s face goes tomato red. What if he has a medical condition and Jongin just accidentally triggers something? He didn’t try to avoid interacting with Jongin earlier, he didn’t cry at the sight of a stranger like Jongin, he even stepped back so Jongin could grab the cookie, so what’s with this sudden change in temperament?
“Chunghee,” Jongin repeats. “Where are daddy and mommy?”
Chunghee looks at the floor. “Daddy is at work.”
“Okay, so you came with mommy?”
Before Chunghee can answer, Jisung dashes down the (literal) aisle of sweets, a scowl on his face. “Jongin hyung, it’s been ten years since you went to get the soda. What took you — Chunghee?”
Jongin watches with jealousy as Jisung bends down to scoop Chunghee up. “You know him?”
“He’s your new neighbor, hyung,” Jisung shrugs, as if he isn’t presenting to Jongin another Thing That Should Be Jongin’s Business But Somehow People Who Are Not Jongin Always Found Out First. “Oh, I forgot you went to Taiwan. Jongin hyung, meet Chunghee. Chunghee, meet Jongin hyung.”
Chunghee abruptly turns around and hides his face in Jisung’s neck. Under the light bulb, his mochi cheeks look even redder. Jongin switches from Jealous mode to Concerned mode immediately. “Do you know where his mom is?”
“I’ve never seen his parents. Hmm, that’s weird.”
“What’s weird?”
“Chunghee isn’t this shy around people. When he came in here last week, he just went to the cashier and told me his name.” Jisung pats Chunghee’s back rhythmically. “But more importantly, I think Mark forgot he brought the kid with him. He left ten minutes ago.”
“Mark?”
“He’s the one taking care of Chunghee during the day,” Jisung says. “And sometimes at night too if Chunghee’s parents are busy. But I guess it rarely happens, because,” he ruffles Chunghee’s hair, “our buddy is here.”
Jongin gasps. “You’re telling me his caretaker forgot about him?”
“Well, Mark is an overworked student with a thesis, an internship and two part-time jobs,” replies Jisung. “He’d probably forget his name before he graduates.”
“That’s not the point,” Jongin sighs. It’s crystal clear that some people aren’t just ready to have kids. Kids should grow up in a nurturing environment where they’re showered with love and attention. Another sigh. “Shouldn’t we bring him back?”
One of Jisung’s eyebrows quirks up. “We?” He asks, then with the speed he uses to rearrange noodles packs and cereals on the shelves, he shoves a wide-eyed, cherry tomato red Chunghee into Jongin’s arms. “There’s no we. He’s your neighbor. I’m just an underpaid part-time convenience store employee.”
And that’s how Jongin returns to his building with a bag of his dinner (plus a peach soda can, because Jisung doesn’t forget) and an armful of a cute kid who smells like milk powder and keeps glancing at Jongin with his increasingly reddened cheeks when he thinks Jongin doesn’t notice. Jongin doesn’t know what the problem is, since the kid doesn’t have a fever. Maybe just an allergy he’s not familiar with.
The small talk in the elevator is awkward, but Jongin tries. Chunghee celebrated his 3rd birthday a month ago on the first day of August. He loves cookies (he confirmed with a nod), strawberry cake (another nod), and chocolate ice cream (“I like it too” when Jongin said he loved chocolate ice cream). He loves his daddy, Jisoo, and Mark.
Mark, whom Chunghee loves, opens the door after the second ring. Jongin forgets about the speech about the ethics of a caretaker he’d prepared in his head the moment he sees Mark in all his overworked senior student glory. A worn SNU hoodie, thick glasses, messy hair, bloodshot eyes, a laptop still balanced on his arm, and when he asks Jongin to hold the laptop for him so he could take Chunghee, Jongin sees a Chrome browser with more than 30 tabs opened and an Outlook icon with 45 unread emails. “Tough time?” He asks, empathetically.
“Hell,” Mark groans. Then he straightens up. “Uhm. I’m sorry. Thank you for bringing Chunghee back. I didn’t mean to leave him there. My second thesis draft is due tomorrow but I messed up my data. I’m Mark.”
“I know,” Jongin says softly. “Jisung told me about you. It’s okay, senior year is absolutely hell. Just hold on for a little longer.”
“Yeah, I hope,” Mark says. “Thank you, uhm, what should I call you?”
“I’m Jongin,” Jongin grins. “Apartment 1014.”
“So you’re our neighbor!” Mark grins back. Then an alarm, presumably from his phone, goes off, and Mark pales. “I’m sorry, Jongin hyung, I’d love to invite you in for some tea but. Deadlines.”
The way he emphasizes on the s at the end makes Jongin feel bad, because Mark is suffering, but it also makes him feel glad, because he was no longer a student. “It’s fine, I’ll take my leave.” He puts Mark’s laptop down on top of the shoe cabinet. “You should check on Chunghee though.”
Mark’s hold on Chunghee tightens. “Why? Did something happen?”
Jongin clears his throat and points at Chunghee’s visible flushed cheeks. The kid is playing with the drawstring of Mark’s hoodie now, but his face is still too red. “I don’t know. I helped him get a cookie from the shelf and he just turned...so red? Jisung and I checked his temperature, he doesn’t have a fever, but he’s still red now? I swear I didn’t do anything. Is it an allergy?”
Mark’s eyes dart back and forth between Chunghee and Jongin. Chunghee refuses to look up, so Mark cranes down to take a look at the kid’s face, then he gives Jongin a once-over. Jongin feels self-conscious. He should’ve changed into something more presentable than a plain white T-shirt and a pair of Adidas sweatpants.
Suddenly, Mark throws his head back and laughs. Jongin doesn’t know what’s so funny, but Mark’s posture is more relaxed now, so he patiently waits as a minute passes and Mark regains his normal breathing.
“It’s not an allergy. Chunghee is as healthy as a horse,” Mark reassures him. “I really have to go back to my thesis now. I’ll see you around?”
Without waiting for Jongin’s response, Mark picks up his laptop and carries Chunghee to the living room. Except that he forgets to close the door, so as Jongin turns around to head back to his apartment, he hears Mark laugh again, loud and clear. “Oh buddy, what a talent you are,” Mark says between giggles. “You’re only three and you already know how to blush in front of handsome men. I can’t wait to tell Jisoo noona about this.”
They seem to be in the kitchen now. Jongin catches the sound of silverware clinking, and then Mark speaks again. “But you have such a good eye. Our neighbor is so freaking hot.”
That surely isn’t a textbook appropriate way to talk to a kid during this essential stage of speech development, but Jongin couldn’t care less. If he ends up spending half an hour admiring himself in front of the mirror after overhearing the conversation, then it’s no one’s business but his own.
❀
In the weeks that follow, Jongin sees Chunghee almost every day.
The new project of Studio 94 — a collaboration with MCM to release a limited-edition collection of bags — has been at the center of every fashion article since the creative director of MCM dropped a hint in an interview with British GQ last month. This is not the first time Studio 94 collaborates with luxury brands — Jongin and his team have worked with Ralph Lauren and Moncler before — but it’s never easy to be at the center of attention. W Korea calls Jongin Asia’s Tom Ford, while Vogue predicts that Studio 94 will be the new Gucci. Fashion editors praise Jongin for creating a brand that effortlessly integrates formal tailoring with a relaxed, ready-to-wear vibe, redefines gendered fashion and elegantly references conceptual arts. Jongin sees at least one article about him whenever he’s online. Like it’s there to remind him that he cannot afford to mess up.
He adjusts his work hours so he could virtually participate in all discussions with the design team from MCM. Due to time zone differences, their meetings are often scheduled between 7 PM and midnight. After talking to Jongdae and Ten, Jongin decides that on days when he meets with MCM, he’ll work from home in the afternoon. It means spending three days a week in the comfort of his apartment, watching Ryoma playing with his pride rocks and casually bubbling, and saying hi to Chunghee and Mark whenever he runs into them in the hallway or at GS25.
Mark always takes Chunghee out to the park across the street at 4 PM every day and they spend about an hour there. They do literally everything and anything: sit under a tree and read a story together, play soccer, sing (Mark is a skilled guitarist), do basic yoga, eat corn dog and take a nap, or when they run out of ideas, they bring Chunghee’s coloring books to the park and Chunghee would color a house or a bear while Mark works on his thesis. “I’ve only missed a day because I was so sick I couldn’t leave the bed,” Mark proudly tells Jongin. “Other than that, I make sure that he gets his daily dose of green time instead of screen time. It’s important.”
And Mark is right. Quality outdoor time is worth the effort; its benefits go beyond an hour or two spent in the fresh air. Increased creativity, less hyperactivity, better sleep rhythms, to name a few. Chunghee turns out just like that. He’s active, smart and strong. He can make friends easily — Jongin had been in awe the other day when he sat with Mark on a bench and watched Chunghee approach a pair of 4-year-old siblings and ask if he could play Frisbee with them. He did it like a pro. The three of them acted like bffs after twenty minutes of playing. Jongin thought if this was an elevator pitch, Chunghee would probably sell his product in less than ten seconds.
But he’s still blushing madly at the sight of Jongin.
Jongin gets it. He’s handsome. He started his career as a model. He’d graced hundreds covers of popular magazines and lent his striking appearance to famous brands around the world. Yet at the same time, he simply just wants to befriend Chunghee. He used to be bffs with Raeon and Rahee until the kids graduated from elementary school. Then he went back to be their Kaichun.
It’s both amusing and frustrating to see Chunghee’s cheeks go red like they’re on fire whenever he spots Jongin. If Jongin comes closer, the kid will duck his head to avoid eye contact, and the faint shade of strawberry red dusting his cheeks would get deeper and darker until it turns into burgundy red, then Jongin has to reluctantly step back. But whenever Jongin turns to leave, if he glances back quick enough, he’d catch Chunghee looking at his back, lips jutting out in a pout and the kid somehow looks...sad? Like he doesn’t want Jongin to go.
“I really have no idea,” Mark laughs. He seems to take this weird reaction from Chunghee as a form of entertainment in his stressful, deadline-filled life, because every time Jongin appears in his peripheral vision, he’d drop whatever he’s doing and call out Jongin’s name. Then he’d tell Chunghee to do all sorts of things. Chunghee, say hello to Jongin hyung. Chunghee, stay with Jongin hyung so I can go buy ice cream. Chunghee, hold Jongin hyung’s hand when you cross the street. “You’re like James Dean, but it’s not like Chunghee hasn’t met attractive people before. Jisoo noona is a goddess. And Chunghee used to be neighbors with that famous actor. What’s his name? Lee Min Ho? The one in The King: Eternal Monarch? That guy literally changed diapers for Chunghee on weekends, but Chunghee didn’t react like this.”
See? It’s a mystery. Jongin is a kid whisperer. Ask his family (his sister, specifically), his friends, his colleagues, his business partners (Moncler’s CEO once posted a video of Jongin and her 4-year-old twins baking a cake together at Moncler annual retreat party on her Instagram and it went viral), and they’d agree. But Chunghee is not like these kids. Jongin couldn’t hold a conversation with him for more than five sentences.
Regardless, Jongin is happy that he’s now friends with Mark. Out of all neighbors that Jongin has had, Mark is so far the friendliest one. He’s stressed 24/7, but he has a good heart. He feeds stray cats in the neighborhood, he knows every janitor in the building by name and remembers small details about their life. He’s also dedicated to his jobs. The loud cry of “No fucking way the server crashes again @#$*@^%” or “Nooo I have a 3-hour tutoring shift today?????” at 4 AM is a solid proof.
Until one day he stops crying at 4 AM and starts bawling his eyes out as early as 1 PM.
“The AC system on Floor 17 just shut down,” Mark hyperventilates when Jongin opens the door. “Johnny says he smells something like burnt egg.” Jongin remembers Johnny from one of the many hallway conversations he has with Mark. Johnny is the manager of the building where Mark interns at. Jongin doesn’t know much about him, besides the fact that he treats his employees like his brothers and that he taught Mark to smoke quality weed. “It’s an emergency.”
Chunghee is wearing an orange T-shirt today. He looks like a miniature tangerine. He’s hiding behind Mark, clinging onto Mark’s leg and sneaking a glance at Jongin. “Hyung,” Mark bites down on his lip. “I know this is sudden but I don’t know who to ask. Chunghee’s dad is in Jeju, he’ll fly back at midnight, and he has a very important meeting so I shouldn’t bother him but I also can’t stay here because I have an emergency?”
Mark’s phone goes off, Trouble by Coldplay blasting at maximum volume and Jongin thinks maybe this is why the younger’s life is miserable. He should’ve chosen a song with an unproblematic title, like Aloha or something.
“Markeu!” A man yells when Mark picks up. “I think Elevator B is broken. It stopped moving at Floor 10.”
Mark pales. “I’ll be there but I don’t know how to fix an elevator? Johnny, just call Haechan!”
“I can’t!” Johnny exclaims. A chorus of screams bursts out in the background, amidst the distinct whirring sound of an electrical chainsaw. “Haechan went to check the AC on Floor 17 and now he’s stuck in the elevator. Wait, Yuta, where are you going with that chainsaw?”
Jongin and Mark look at each other in silent tension and listen to the noise of stampeding footsteps, either from people trying to fix the elevator or running away from it. Then there’s a loud thumping sound, and Johnny shrieks, “Yangyang, put the vacuum away! Mark, I don’t care how, you have to get here in the next ten minutes. Jaehyun, no, you can’t burn down the door—”
Someone, presumably Yangyang, starts the vacuum and it drowns out whatever Johnny is saying. Jongin gingerly puts a hand on Mark’s shoulder and looks down to meet Chunghee’s confused gaze. “Buddy, you stay here with me for a while, okay? Mark needs to go to work.”
Chunghee whines but doesn’t protest when Mark gives him a coloring book and a set of color pencils. It’s an endearing thing about Chunghee — he’s a well-mannered kid who seems to be more understanding than adults sometimes. Ten, for example, would throw a fit if Jongin doesn’t agree to having sushi for lunch, even though he’s 21 years older than Chunghee.
But again, Ten doesn’t scamper away when Jongin stares at him. Chunghee does, so that’s why Jongin tries his best to avoid making eye contact. He settles the kid on the carpeted floor, brings him some candies, and retreats to the dining table to watch him from afar.
Chunghee opens his coloring book and starts on a new garden picture. He looks totally focused — tiny hands moving up and down the page, brown eyes scanning over different colors before deciding to pick one up, and his dark eyebrows drawn together when he sees something in the picture that he isn’t familiar with. But there’s something familiar when Jongin looks at Chunghee. The way he unconsciously pouts when he isn’t sure what color to use, the way he holds his pencil — his thumb and his index finger literally have the pencil in a chokehold — and it’s exactly how Jongin has been holding a pen since he was a kid. His mom tried to make him fix it, but it was too much effort, and Jongin finished his homework just fine, so in the end she just told his teacher to let him be.
This is interesting. He and his 3-year-old neighbor hold a pen the same way. This isn’t something that happens every day. This — this may be a sign that—
“We should be bffs,” Jongin crouches down and tells Chunghee. “Look, buddy,” he picks up a pencil from the floor, “we’re the same.”
Chunghee slowly lifts his head up when he realizes Jongin is staying still and keeping a distance between them. Then his brown eyes widen, and wow, Jongin feels like he’s looking at a dazzling sun. All those Pinterest quotes aren’t wrong — you can see a miracle by looking into a baby’s eyes.
“Red.”
Jongin looks at the pencil in his hand. “Do you need red?”
He holds the pencil out towards Chunghee, but the kid doesn’t take it. Instead, he points a chubby finger at Jongin. “Red,” he says. “J...Jongin is red.”
Jongin has a vague idea what Chunghee means, but it’s the first time the kid proactively starts a conversation with him, so he’d like it to last longer than one sentence. Shaking his head, he says, with a small pout that mimics the one on Chunghee’s face earlier. “Jongin is not red. Jongin is blue.”
Normally, Chunghee would already turn into a walking tomato by now, as he’s been looking at Jongin for more than thirty seconds. But today, the kid seems to have more important matters on his mind. He’s trying to make a statement. Jongin watches him tilting his head and stroking his chin lightly, a gesture he probably learned from Mark.
After a few minutes, Chunghee stands up and walks towards Jongin. He holds out his coloring book and points at a red rose on the current page. “It’s for you. Jongin is red.”
Jongin, in fact, likes red. He just doesn’t like wearing red clothes. But his little neighbor is giving him an expectant look, like he wants Jongin to tell him that he’s right. So Jongin does. He leans over slightly and ruffles Chunghee’s hair. “That’s right. Jongin is red.”
The kid beams at him, proudly, and when Jongin asks him to sit in his lap so they could decide “Chunghee is orange or yellow”, he only hesitates for a second before he settles himself in Jongin’s lap, tucking his head underneath Jongin’s chin.
Jongin is so touched he wants to cry.
They spend the next thirty minutes coloring a castle. When they’re done — a green and purple castle, a red horse (“Jongin likes!”), a princess wearing a black dress and blue crown — Chunghee crawls off his lap. He looks around, like he’s trying to locate something, and then he stops at the fridge.
“Are you hungry?”
Chunghee shyly glances back at Jongin. “I’m thirsty. Can I get water, please?”
“Sure,” Jongin replies. “I can make you lemonade. Do you like lemonade?”
There was this one evening Jongin met Mark and Chunghee at GS25. Chunghee was holding his milk bottle, but his eyes were fixed on Mark’s lemonade. There was a blob of saliva dropping down his chin, which Mark ignored on purpose. Mark survives on junk food and coffee, but he only lets Chunghee drink water, milk, or freshly squeezed orange juice. He said he had some scientific data to back up his decision, but whatever. Jongin drank tap water in kindergarten for a year before his teacher found out and stopped him, and he grew up just fine.
“It’s okay,” he offers Chunghee his pinky finger. “We’re not going to tell Mark.”
To Jongin’s delight, the kid giggles as he locks his little pinky finger with Jongin’s. They move to the kitchen, Chunghee sits on a chair as Jongin takes some lemons out of his fridge and prepares a simple syrup. As he finishes slicing the lemons and takes out the strainer, he glances at Chunghee and here it goes again, the kid is looking at him with rose tinted cheeks. It’s very cute.
“Just wait a bit more, buddy,” Jongin smiles.
“Can I help?”
“Of course,” Jongin says. “Go wash your hands first, alright?”
Chunghee nods, jumping off the chair to go wash his hands. When he comes back, Jongin lets him squeeze the juice into a bowl. He explains to Chunghee why they use the strainer (“To prevent the seeds from getting into your tummy. No, a tree will not grow in your tummy — but you may get a tummy ache,”) and tells him that they can make cookies and ice pops with lemons too.
Finally, he brings out a pitcher and helps Chunghee mix the lemon juice, the syrup and water together. Jongin usually goes with half a cup of syrup, but since Chunghee is a kid, he decides to go with the standard recipe of one cup.
He frowns when Chunghee refills another cup of syrup. “No, buddy, that would be too sweet.”
It takes Chunghee a good long minute to understand what Jongin means, then he pouts. “Daddy uses two cups.”
Jongin finds it weird — an adult who has a sickeningly sweet tooth. There’s no point in drinking lemonade if it’s overwhelmingly sweet. Or maybe the guy is just a whipped father who would do anything for his child. Jongin had seen Jongdae eat PB & J sandwiches for lunch for three months straight, without a break, because his daughter learned to make one after watching a YouTube vlog.
“Alright,” Jongin nods. Chunghee’s nervous expression morphs into the brightest, loveliest smile, and if Jongin chokes on the sugary taste later and has to gulp down cold water to clear his throat, he still thinks it’s really worth it.
They eat yogurt with sliced strawberries and manage to build a train from one of Jongin’s Lego sets before Mark comes back. Chunghee asks for the instruction sheet, but Jongin tells him to build his own train, so their final work is a train that looks like a platypus with wings made from red blocks, because Jongin is red.
Mark returns at 6 PM, looking like a ragged doll, so Jongin takes pity on him and invites him in for a cup of lemonade but Mark refuses. “Johnny is waiting in his car downstairs,” he explains. “He’ll take me and Chunghee to dinner since he feels bad for making me come in on my off day.”
“He’s a good supervisor,” Jongin hums. He scoops Chunghee up. “Here, you guys go eat first. You can stop by to pick up his stuff later.”
Mark blinks, a smirk plastered across his tired face as he pinches Chunghee’s cheeks. “Wow, buddy, you have improvised.”
“C’mon, Mark,” Jongin laughs. “He’s a kid. Maybe he just found me intimidating at first.”
“Maybe you’re just too hot for his baby brain to process,” Mark snickers. He nudges Chunghee. “Hey, we’re leaving now, so say goodbye to Jongin hyung.”
Chunghee murmurs a tiny “Goodbye Jongin”, then just as Jongin is about to turn around, he feels something tug on his arm.
“Can we build a fire station next time?” Chunghee asks timidly, tiny fingers curled around Jongin’s sleeve.
“Any time, buddy,” Jongin grins. “Hey, what about a pirate ship?”
❀
The skinless chicken thighs start browning on the frying pan when Jongin realizes he’s out of salt.
Nothing comes out of the shaker. Jongin opens the lid to find it’s empty. Sighing loudly, he considers just eating bland chicken with rice, but soon diminishes the thought. He doesn’t cook any soup today, so there’ll be nothing to compromise for the flavorless meat. He’s too lazy to go to GS25 — it means he has to wash his face, style his hair and get dressed. Too much effort to get salt.
He takes a look around his kitchen and stops at a piece of Lego near the flower vase. That was a piece from the train set he’d played with Chunghee three days ago. Right. He has a neighbor now! Jongin is no longer that person who met his neighbors for the first time on the day he moved out and got cookies while packing up his last box because his neighbors thought he moved in. That’s the old Jongin. The new Jongin is different.
Turning down the heat on his stove, he grabs a small bowl from the rack and rushes to his neighbor’s apartment. He rings the bell, then decides to add in a “Mark, it’s me!”, in case Mark has his headphones on as he listens to his meditation playlist while frantically working on whatever assignment due by midnight.
The door sprung open to reveal Chunghee, holding a pink Rilakkuma. A faint red blush spreads across his mochi cheeks as he recognizes Jongin, but he also smiles and Jongin feels as if flowers are blooming inside his chest. In a joyful and positive way, not in a Hanahaki way.
“Hi buddy!” Jongin chirps. “Where’s Mark?” He peeks inside and realizes the living room is Mark-less. Usually, Mark will be on the couch with textbooks scattering around him. His best guess is that Mark is in the kitchen — it’s dinnertime after all.
“Hey Mark!” He calls, his voice louder than usual to make sure the younger can hear him. “Can you give me some salt? I ran out of salt and I’m too lazy to go all the way to GS25.”
He hears the shuffling sound of footsteps heading from behind the kitchen island. The metaphorical flower blossom vanishes and is replaced by a weird bubbling feeling in his chest. Mark never walks that...elegantly? He either runs extremely fast or moderately fast, since he’s always in a hurry to get back to his deadlines.
Jongin knows what this feeling is. Déjà vu. The uncanny sensation that you've already experienced something before, even when you know you never have. Except the latter part isn’t 100% accurate. Because Jongin has heard this sound before. It was a long time ago. When was it? High school? College? During his first job?
“Chunghee.”
Fuck.
It’s college. The answer is college. Jongin tears his gaze away from Chunghee and follows Chunghee’s line of sight to see no other than Sehun.
Standing in the middle of the living room is Sehun in the flesh. Oh Sehun, SNU Class of 2016, Biochemistry and Computer Science double major, co-founder of SNU’s first Makerspace, roommate-turned-boyfriend of Kim Jongin, SNU Class of 2016, Fashion Design and Communications double major, co-founder of SNU’s first fashion runway event.
Sehun, Jongin’s infamous ex, whom Jongin hasn’t met for four years since they broke up, is looking at him. Sehun is still breathtakingly gorgeous. His hair is longer now, he ties it up into a man bun and he’s wearing a plain black T-shirt with sweatpants, but because he’s Sehun, he looks like he’s on the cover of Vogue anniversary issue. Charismatic smoldering eyes, perfectly shaped eyebrows, a genetically blessed straight nose, and a pair of naturally pink lips. Sehun isn’t just killing it in front of the camera, he can also cook up a storm wherever he goes. And now Jongin can feel imaginary black clouds hovering over his head, signaling a fucking blizzard because there’s no way Sehun is here??
Jongin’s feet are buried deep in the ground. He doesn’t know if it’s possible, but he can’t move. Physics and natural science subjects are never his strong point. They’re Sehun’s.
Chunghee goes to Sehun with a spring in his step, unaware of the long awkward silence stretching between the two adults. He tugs at Sehun’s hand, and when Sehun glances down, he points at a dazed Jongin. “Daddy, it’s Jongin.”
“Jongin,” Sehun says slowly, like he hasn’t used his vocal cord in ages. “Jongin.”
Jongin is no better. There’s sweat beading on his forehead, which is ridiculous because he’s standing right under the living room’s AC. But what’s more ridiculous is Chunghee...and...Sehun. Jongin’s head hurts.
“Jongin,” Sehun says again.
“Me,” Jongin licks his lips nervously. “...Daddy.”
“Oh,” Sehun blinks. “I…haven’t called you that in years.”
Jongin’s face pales as Sehun’s words start to sink in. Sehun lets out a strained chuckle, like he finally realizes there’s nothing funny here, because yes, they used to date and yes, what if Jongin once creamed his pants merely at the breathy sound of Sehun calling him daddy? Not a big deal. Not at all.
So Jongin behaves like the mature man that he is: He screams and runs back to his apartment like his life depends on it.
❀
The spring of 2013 went down as the warmest for South Korea in 88 years of record-keeping.
Jongin sat at his desk, sweat trickling in streams down his temples and despite the electrical fan running at full speed, he felt like someone just threw him in an oven. He desperately wanted to take a nap, but this 70-page reading on the international war crimes tribunals at Nuremberg wasn’t going to read itself. He noted down a few bullet points about what constituted “justice” in the postwar context while wondering about the lack of modern-day justice, as shown by the absence of an AC in his room. Who would be so heartless to let students suffer in this scorching heat? His university, apparently.
The door opened and Sehun walked in. The front of his T-shirt was soaked in sweat, which spoke volumes about the horrible weather because Sehun rarely sweated. “Still not done with the readings?”
“No,” Jongin lamented. “Western Europeans and Americans didn’t click. Their allies sounded like a fake marriage went wrong.”
“It was World War II, not a Shakespeare love story,” Sehun placed two cups of lemonade down onto Jongin’s desk. “They probably didn’t have any other choice. You, on the other hand, did. You should’ve taken my advice to take CompSci 101 instead of History.”
“Kyungsoo told me this class was a piece of cake,” Jongin sighed solemnly and reached out for a cup. He took a sip. “Fuck, why is this so sweet?"
Sehun paused in the middle of changing his T-shirt. He turned around, milky skin and lean torso glinting in the heat of their shared dorm room. “Oh, that’s my cup. The one with white straw is yours. And Kyungsoo, seriously? The one that took so many APs and certificates that he qualified as a junior when he entered SNU? You aren’t him, Jongin.”
“Did the cafeteria staff use up all the sugar for your lemonade?” Jongin ignored Sehun’s mocking tone. “If you like sweet stuff, why don’t you drink milkshake or bubble tea instead?”
“Stop judging my taste, asshat,” Sehun grumbled. “It was only two extra pumps of syrup.” He threw his dirty T-shirt at Jongin. It landed right on Jongin’s bare chest. He used it to wipe off his sweat, much to Sehun’s dismay.
Everything was simple back then. They were sophomores, they were roommates, and they both just broke up with their respective boyfriends from high school. They bonded over their love for video games, watching reruns of Friends, and later on, lemonade. It was only after they started dating in their junior year that Sehun admitted to Jongin he didn’t like lemonade. But Jongin showed up to their new room with a bottle of homemade lemonade and asked Sehun to try it, and over the rim of Jongin’s floral bottle, Sehun saw Jongin’s eyes sparkling with hope.
“I didn’t want to let you down,” Sehun had explained. Jongin was so happy when Sehun finished the lemonade in one gulp and told him it tasted delicious. At that moment, Sehun decided to try drinking it more often so he could see the glowing look of joy on his new roommate’s face. He had to add extra syrup, since he still couldn’t tolerate the sour taste. But it was the thought that counted.
Jongin jerks out of his college days reverie when he hears his doorbell ring. It could only be one person. Taeyong would use his spare key card, Jongdae would ask in advance, and Ten — Ten never comes to Jongin’s place unless Jongin picks him up because Ten has dignity, whatever that means. That leaves only Sehun.
Jongin swallows dryly, unable to wet his parched throat. He crosses his arms tightly across his chest. Breathes in. Breathes out. It’s been four years. Their breakup wasn’t that bad. Sure, it shook Jongin to his very foundations, but it was a breakup handled with compassion. There’s no ill will, not then, not now, not ever. So if his ex has moved on and has a kid, then be it. It’s normal. Life happens. People move on.
The doorbell rings again. Jongin takes another deep breath to calm himself down. Relax, it’s just Sehun. If Jongin can’t do this for Sehun, he should at least try to do this for Chunghee. The kid is innocent, and he clearly likes Jongin. They still have yet to build the Lego fire station and pirate ship. Jongin can’t disappoint the kid. It’s a dealbreaker in his dictionary. You’re an adult, Jongin whispers to himself, so act like one.
After another ten attempts at deep breathing, Jongin stands up and opens the door. His toes curl anxiously in his mismatched socks. If Sehun notices, he hopes Sehun doesn’t say anything.
Sehun doesn’t. He has his hair down now, tucked behind his ears, and Jongin thinks Sehun’s hair still looks the same, soft and full and smells insanely good. No — Jongin, focus. Stay focused.
“Why are you freaking out?”
Jongin splutters. “I...I’m not!”
Sehun does this thing with his strong eyebrows, this thing when he knows someone is lying but too kind to call them out and Jongin isn’t sure what’s more concerning — Sehun seeing through his lie or him vividly remembering such a small detail about his ex. “I’m absolutely not freaking out.” He straightens his back to save himself from further embarrassment. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
The slight change in posture kinda works? The moment Jongin pushes his shoulder blades down and back and lifts his chest, Sehun unconsciously takes a small step back. Jongin is glad he maintains his rigorous workout routine five days a week.
“Well, Mark and Chunghee talk about Jongin a lot,” Sehun says. “I thought it was someone else with the same name.”
“I was on a business trip when you moved in,” Jongin says. “I mean, I should’ve known? Chunghee has your eyebrows. And he drinks mega super sweet lemonade.”
“Yeah, and this Jongin who collects Lego sets and always overdresses even just to take the trash out?” Sehun snorts, although politely. “There’s only one in this world.”
They look at each other, until Sehun’s expressionless face melts into a bright smile that reminds Jongin of the sun. In another life, they could’ve been sworn enemies and Jongin would still think Sehun has the most beautiful smile in the entire galaxy.
“Nice to see you again, Jongin,” Sehun says.
“Me too,” Jongin grins. “You, uhm, wanna come in for tea?”
It’s probably the dumbest combination of words Jongin has ever said, but Sehun just shrugs. “It’s alright. I have to eat dinner with Chunghee. I’m here for this, though.”
Jongin stares at the saltshaker in Sehun’s hand. Oh. He totally forgot about his main purpose for knocking on his neighbor’s door. Therefore, he also forgot about—
“Fuck!” He curses and hurries back inside. It’s too late. The almost perfect brown chicken earlier now has burnt to its very bone. Jongin sighs, thinking about how he will have a GS25 lunch box for dinner again and how it will take hours to scrub the pan.
Sehun doesn’t need to ask what happened, the strong smell of burnt chicken is enough of an indicator. “You can keep the salt,” he offers. “I still have a lot so it’s okay.”
“Well, I’ll need to go to GS25 to buy my dinner anyway.”
“Or you can eat with me and Chunghee,” Sehun says, too fast that Jongin almost didn’t catch it, but he always has heightened senses when it comes to Sehun-related matters. Had. Because they already broke up.
But Sehun makes the best spaghetti bolognese, and Jongin knows he’s making it today because...heightened senses. “Would it bother you?” He asks. “Like...father and son bonding time or something?”
“It’s a meal,” Sehun says. “But it’s okay if you don’t want to—”
“Of course I want to!” He cuts Sehun off, a little bit too enthusiastically. He clears his throat at Sehun’s inquisitive brow. “I’d love to. I’ll see you in five minutes? I need to clean up the stove a bit.”
Jongin doesn’t spend five minutes cleaning the stove. He spends it washing his face, combing his hair, and changing into a clean graphic T-shirt to create that sleek, natural look. He adds a final touch with a black wristwatch. Sehun already knows he likes to overdress, so he may as well just do as expected.
❀
Dinner is normal. Jongin helps Chunghee set up the plates while Sehun heats up the spaghetti. He and Sehun spend the majority of dinner listening to the kid’s convoluted story about a game he played with Mark and Jaehyun at Johnny’s place the other day. Chunghee, with assistance from Jaehyun, had successfully taken out the bad guy, and Johnny gave him ice cream as a reward.
“Can I play it again, daddy?” Chunghee ends his story with a request, accompanied by his puppy eyes. “I will take out all the bad guys.”
Sehun dips his fries in his ketchup. “I’ll think about it once you’re done cleaning the house.”
Jongin stifles a laugh as he sees Chunghee’s shoulder drop sadly when the kid looks at the messy living room, lithered in puzzle pieces, toys, pencils, and popcorn. “Hey,” he leans over and stage whispers. “I’ll help you, alright? But you have to finish dinner first.”
Chunghee beams and goes back to eat his spaghetti. Sehun sends him a disapproving glare when he’s sure Chunghee doesn’t see. “What?” Jongin mouths.
“It should be challenging to get a reward,” Sehun says. “That’s how we learn.”
Jongin finds it funny that Sehun is trying to warn him to not let Chunghee have his way easily in a manner of speech that Chunghee cannot comprehend. “Don’t worry,” Jongin reassures him. “Your son is a quick learner.”
“Easy for you to say when you’re not the one cleaning up his mess every night,” Sehun mutters.
The way he rolls his eyes makes Jongin chuckle. Sehun frowns. “What?”
The words leave his mouth before he can turn on his brain-to-mouth filter. “It was just like back then. You always told Taemin and Minho how messy I was and how sick you were of cleaning up my design sketches whenever they complimented me.”
Sehun’s hand on his fork stiffens. Radio silence engulfs them. Jongin fidgets in his seat — how can he be so fucking dumb? The first rule of meeting your ex is to not talk about the relationship. “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” he breathes out. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I didn’t — I’m not here to remind you of the old days. I’m just glad to see you again and I mean it and—”
“I get it,” Sehun says. He turns to Chunghee, who is looking between them confusedly, and asks, “Sweetheart, can you go get Jongin some water?”
Chunghee puts down his fork. “Daddy, is Jongin alright?”
“I’m good, buddy,” Jongin smiles softly. “I’m just thirsty because I ate so much ketchup.”
The kid wipes his mouth with a napkin then goes to the fridge. Sehun sighs. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say sorry.” He drums his index finger against the table. “I get it. It’s not easy talking to your ex after so many years.” Four years are not that many, but it sure feels like a long time. Many things have happened since Sehun was gone. “You don’t have to force yourself. I know you love hanging out with Chunghee. And you can continue to do that without worrying about me,” Sehun clears his throat. “I understand if you didn’t forgive me. You could...hate me and play with Chunghee? It’s possible. It’s been that way for the last month. I never get back before 6 PM unless it’s my day off, and recently I’ve been working on Saturday too, so you can hang out with Chunghee when I’m not home.”
“Hold on,” Jongin interrupts. “Where did you get the idea that I didn’t forgive you? And for...what, exactly?”
Sehun runs a hand through his hair, and looks at Jongin half in amusement, half in dread. “Because I dumped you?”
Jongin doesn’t believe what he just heard. “Did you just say that you thought I held a grudge against you because you asked to break up first?” He wonders why it takes Chunghee so long because he needs that glass of water now. “Did you really just say that?”
Sehun shrinks back into his chair, lips pressed into a thin line. He suddenly looks small, and Jongin’s still bad at Physics so he doesn’t care if Sehun could actually shrink. “I’m not mad,” he clarifies. “And I don’t hate you.”
Sehun lets out a timid laugh. “You just say this to make me feel better.”
“I don’t,” Jongin states as clearly as he could. “I could never hate you.”
Sehun still stares at him with a glint of disbelief in his eyes, so Jongin decides he should lay all his cards on the table. “I was hurt,” he admits. “It was normal. We dated for four years, that wasn’t something I could let go after a good night of sleep. But it was our only choice back then.” His mind wanders back to the morning of his birthday in 2017, when he woke up to an empty bed and it was only the beginning for many mornings that followed. “Things weren’t clicking, like you said. We both decided to choose our careers. So you didn’t dump me and I didn’t hate you for that. You saw where we were, and you took the first step to pack it up for us because you knew I’d be too much of a coward to initiate that conversation.”
It took Jongin half a year to openly admit to himself that breaking up was the right choice for both of them. It wasn’t easy, but he finally understood. Did he think about Sehun? Yes. He spent his first month in Paris getting drunk in his studio apartment and listening to the playlists they made together. Walking past a couple reminded him of Sehun. Wearing a cardigan on set reminded him of Sehun. Brewing coffee in the morning reminded him of Sehun, and Sehun didn’t even drink coffee. Sehun was a big part of his life, and Jongin thinks he’d never stop being one. The point is, yes, Jongin was miserable, but no, he didn’t hate Sehun, nor did he wish fiery hell and brimstone onto Sehun. If Sehun spent all these years thinking Jongin wanted to dismantle everything he held dear piece-by-piece, then, dear god.
“So,” Sehun ventures carefully, “you’re not mad?”
“For fu—” Jongin stops when he spots Chunghee coming back to the dining table with a glass of water. “No. I’m not mad. Is this why you didn’t send me back a Christmas card in 2018?”
The disbelief is more evident in Sehun’s eyes now, but it’s a different kind of disbelief. This one doesn’t contain any fear or guilt. “You didn’t hate me for dumping you but you hold a grudge over a Christmas card. Really, Kim?”
“It was a card sent from Norway,” Jongin says. “Drawn by a local artist too. It was one of a kind. I expected a handwritten letter from you with touching tears.”
“You’re such a drama queen,” Sehun scoffs. The tension earlier in the air has dissipated. “I don’t think I had time to go through any mail that Christmas. I was drowned in diapers and formula milk and everything was so new.”
Chunghee returns from his trip to the couch with a bunny plush. “Baby,” he shows the bunny to Jongin.
“Aww, baby,” Jongin coos. He sets the bunny on the chair next to him. “Did baby eat anything yet?”
Chunghee shakes his head. Jongin takes Chunghee’s mug and pretends to feed the plushie. “How about I feed baby when you help your daddy clean up the living room? Then you and baby can watch Frozen together, alright?”
The kid nods. Jongin makes sure to give the plushie another spoon of spaghetti, and as he expects, Chunghee abruptly turns around to check and he seems content that Jongin is still feeding his baby.
“You’re good with kids,” Sehun comments.
“You’re not bad either,” Jongin says. He puts the ketchup in front of Bunny in case Chunghee goes back to check.
Sehun just hums and continues eating his food. Now that Chunghee is cleaning up the living room (and getting distracted, seeing how he’s currently moving a car toy around the coffee table instead of putting said car toy into his box), it’s only Sehun and Jongin sitting across each other. There are so many questions on Jongin’s mind. After Christmas in 2018, they barely talked. Jongin began Studio 94 on his birthday in 2019, and since then he didn’t have the luxury to sleep more than 5 hours a day, let alone contacting his ex. By the time Studio 94 grew to new heights and caught a rhythm in the fashion industry, Jongin didn’t know how to start a message anymore.
That was a year ago. Now, he’s sitting in his ex-turned-neighbor’s kitchen, eating his homemade food, and digesting the fact that his favorite little buddy is his ex’s son. Which shouldn’t be a problem, but curiosity kills the cat and while Jongin has always been a dog person, he’s also dying to know.
Sehun beats him to it. “Spill it out.”
“What?”
“Ask me whatever you want to ask. Stop looking back and forth between me and Chunghee like that. It’s creepy.”
“I—” Jongin tries to protest, but Sehun does this thing with his eyebrows again and Jongin knows he’s been exposed. “Fine. Uhm. How have you been?”
“How have I been as in my personal life or professional life?”
“Both?” Jongin says. “Yeah. Both.”
“My parents and my cousin helped me with raising Chunghee. Jisoo is Mark’s sister. She literally took care of both of us because I went back to work just two months after he was born. You know, work.” Jongin kinda knows? Sehun is ambitious and goal-oriented and he doesn’t rest until he reaches his goal, then he’ll take a night off to reflect and then plans for another milestone. He and Jongin are very alike in this aspect. “Work is good, though. Minseok hyung and I launched our new product last month and the feedback has been very positive.”
A light bulb goes off in Jongin’s head. “Minseok? The same Minseok who worked with you at Sulwhasoo?”
“Yeah,” Sehun nods. “It’s him.”
Jongin is bad with memorizing names, but he remembers Minseok because Taeyong and Ten talk about that name all the time. Actually, they don’t talk about Minseok, but the brand owned by Minseok — The Skin Kitchen, a 2-year-old organic skincare company that rose to popularity after its BHA toner won Glamour Beauty Awards and Allure Readers Choice Awards in the same year. It soon becomes one of the buzziest brands because of its clean and effective formulas.
“You’re the founder of The Skin Kitchen???” Jongin gasps.
“I am,” Sehun grins. “Wait, you know about us? I thought you only used water.”
Water still makes up 80% of Jongin’s skincare routine, but it’s not the case with Taeyong. His executive assistant is a true fan. The Skin Kitchen products revived Taeyong’s skin from a terrible break-out, and since then he acts like he’s been converted. He once skipped an executive board meeting because his appointment with The Skin Kitchen’s spa was rescheduled to the morning instead of afternoon. He told Jongin that a CEO should be able to handle a simple meeting by himself and left for his beauty appointment.
Sehun tells him briefly about The Skin Kitchen’s latest research, a clean make-up line inspired by green tea grown organically on their farm in Jeju. Jongin talks about the Studio 94 x MCM project, and when Jongin helps Sehun load the plates into the dishwasher, the atmosphere becomes much friendlier, like two old friends catching up.
Neither of them is fully relaxed, but it’s understandable. At least they mutually accept each other’s company. Jongin doesn’t expect anything more than that, since he’s here for Chunghee as a neighbor and a friend, not as an ex-boyfriend of his dad. His romantic journey with Sehun ended a long time ago, and no further question should be brought up.
“I’m sure the makeup line will be a blast,” Jongin says. “I can tell Taeyong will be the first in line.”
Sehun hums noncommittally and turns on the tap to wet a towel. “This Taeyong guy, are you two dating?”
Jongin chokes on air. “What? Hell no. He’s like my brother.” He contemplates it. “Or my second mom. He nags more than my real mom and sisters combined.”
Sehun shrugs. “Okay.”
Jongin scoots closer so he’s standing behind Sehun, and he can smell his ex. He’s getting off track again. Yet Sehun’s scent is soothing — a pleasant combination of fresh fabric softener, a drip of baby cologne and a steaming cup of jasmine tea. So what if Sehun smells distinctively good? Jongin moves for a reason.
Sehun must have sensed something because he abruptly turns around, a wet towel in his hands, dripping onto the marble floor. There’s a distance between them, far enough so they don’t breathe into each other’s face, but not far enough for Sehun to move freely.
“What are you doing?”
Jongin puts on his signature smirk, though not a perfect one, because in front of him is Sehun and not a camera. “Are you jealous?”
He means it as a harmless joke, since in addition to being handsome, rich, and successful, Jongin is also hilarious. He loves to remind people of his amazing sense of humor.
Then Sehun blushes.
He widens his eyes, then ducks his head to avoid looking at Jongin, but he’s turning red. His milky skin is a perfect canvas to bring out the shade of bright red dusting his cheeks. And. Wow. Jongin is speechless. Sehun is blushing and he’s gained a bit of weight since Jongin last saw him in their old apartment four years ago and he looks healthier now with softer, plumper cheeks and they’re...red? Jongin’s comprehension level is below zero.
“Shut up,” Sehun says, although Jongin hasn’t uttered a single word. “I’m not jealous. No one is jealous. No one could put up with you anyway.”
Sehun could, but it was in the past. Taeyong, Ten and Jongdae could, but they literally baby him. Then there’s also—
“Chunghee could,” Jongin says.
“Get lost,” Sehun grumbles. “Chunghee is a kid. Only naive kids would tolerate you.”
Chunghee chooses that exact moment to rush to them with his bunny plushie. He’s probably going to ask either of them to give his bunny a bath, like what Mark always does to teach him that he, too, should take a bath after his meal. “To...tolerate?”
Jongin picks Chunghee up with ease. “It means you love playing with me.” He holds him close and presses his forehead against the kid’s. “You do, right, Chunghee?”
Chunghee opens his mouth. Closes it. His tiny fist grabs at Jongin’s shoulder, and in front of Jongin’s eyes, his chubby cheeks turn deep red. Jongin could feel the heat seeping into his own skin.
He gently moves away so he doesn’t overwhelm the kid. Chunghee buries his face into Jongin’s shoulder out of embarrassment. It’s adorable; Jongin glances at Sehun so they can laugh together at Chunghee’s shyness, but what he sees is the sight of Sehun’s rosy cheeks. His ex is still blushing. Both his ex and his ex’s son are blushing, and the reason is likely Jongin.
It’s fascinating.
❀
They fall into a new routine of having dinner together every Friday.
Everything else remains the same. Sehun leaves for work when Jongin is still deep in slumber, then he comes back when Jongin begins his meeting with the MCM team and other Western-based partners. Jongin helps Mark take care of Chunghee when Mark struggles with his deadlines, which is 95% of the time.
Chunghee no longer runs away from Jongin; they’ve gotten closer through building Lego sets and watching Power Rangers together. He can’t help the blushing, though it happens less frequently now, and what he’d do is just go back to his toys or hide his red face in Jongin’s chest (if Jongin’s holding him). When they hang out, they practice English, act out the scene in Power Rangers: Ninja Storm in which the Wind Rangers seal Lother away in the Abyss of Evil, debate over whether the wall in the Lego Playhouse set should be pink or green, or play ice cream counter with Bunny the plushie. Chunghee would be the ice cream vendor who builds his own parlor with different flavors of ice cream made from play-doh. Jongin and Bunny would be his customers; sometimes Jongin is Bunny’s dad, sometimes they are best friends, and on days where the luck doesn’t work in Jongin’s favor, he’d be the plushie while Bunny is his owner. But Chunghee makes sure to give him an extra scoop of chocolate ice cream, so it’s worth it.
“Let me get this straight,” Ten says. He’s wearing eyeliner today. “You’re bffs with your ex’s son.”
“Yeah?” Jongin says. Then he changes his tone to an affirmative, “Yeah.”
Ten hums his acknowledgment. “Who’s the other father?”
Jongin blinks. Ten waits. Jongin blinks again. Ten lets out a scandalous gasp. “You don’t know???”
“He doesn’t talk about it.” And if Sehun does, why should he talk to Jongin, out of all people? Sehun is a private person. Jongin admires that about him — Sehun always manages to establish and maintain clear boundaries, even with his close friends. It’s a healthy habit Jongin is still trying to learn. “Why does it matter?”
The spoon on Ten’s hand slips out of his hold, but Ten has the flexibility of a cat, so he bends down to catch it mid-air before it hits the floor. He sets it back on the table, then fixes Jongin with a stern look. “It absolutely matters. Your ex has a kid. You have no idea who your ex’s partner is. Maybe you have no intention, but people talk, hyung. You can’t go around and give away your trust like it’s your business card.”
What Ten means is The Incident that happened before Jongin returned to Seoul. Long story short: Jongin fell into a trap set up by Studio 94’s rival company. His nudes almost got leaked to the public if it weren’t for Ten who got insider information and pulled the right strings at the right time. Ten has been keeping a sharp lookout for Jongin since then, saying Jongin is too naive and trusting for someone with high power and influence. He looks at anyone related to Jongin personally with skeptical eyes. He once thought Mark was a snitch for Dispatch, until all his sources proved that Mark was a miserable, overworked and underpaid student who consumed an unhealthy amount of convenience store caffeine.
“My ex is fine,” Jongin reassures Ten. Sehun is more than fine. He’s fine arts. “You don’t have to worry.”
“You say that about everyone,” Ten reminds him. “Remember the homeless woman you invited into your house and cooked her ramen and let her watch panda videos on YouTube with you? Then an hour after she left, NYPD knocked on your door and told you she was a fugitive on the run after murdering her ex-husband’s family in cold blood? With a single knife?”
“It was raining. Plus, her ex-husband cheated on her!” Jongin attempts. The woman was polite. She even taught him the differences between red pandas and giant pandas. It was an informative conversation, albeit short-lived. “I went to her trial. She thanked me.”
“The thing is,” Ten announces. “You’re a celebrity, hyung. The media doesn’t treat people like you gently. They want a piece of you. And I don’t want it to happen again, not because I can’t work my magic but because I don’t want to see you getting hurt. Please, for your own sake—”
“But it’s Sehun!” Jongin blurts out. “He would never harm me.”
Ten pauses. “Sehun? Is that your ex’s name?”
“Yes,” Jongin beams. “You know him? He’s the co-founder of The Skin Kitchen.”
A plethora of emotions flick through Ten’s smokey eyes before he gulps down his green juice in one go. Jongin stills. This is usually the calm before the storm, whenever Ten stops in the middle of a conversation and drinks something. He braces himself for a new outburst, but it never comes.
Instead, Ten smiles at him, relieved and...excited? “You should’ve told me your ex is Sehun-ssi from the beginning.”
“You didn’t let me talk,” Jongin sulks. Ten’s smile widens. “Why are you smiling? Are you okay?”
“More than okay,” Ten confirms gleefully. “If it’s Sehun-ssi then I don’t have to worry.”
“You literally told me Sehun could be the enemy thirty seconds ago—”
“Everyone could be your enemy, except Sehun-ssi and Minseok-ssi,” Ten catches Jongin’s questioning look and he sighs. “Look, these two are a gem, okay? The Skin Kitchen is the best company ever. They fucking care. They’re the sponsor behind two animal shelters. They donate to a nonprofit that helps vulnerable children. They work with local organizations to raise awareness against animal cruelty. They’re the good guys.”
“So you’re not against me hanging out with Chunghee?” Jongin asks. He trusts his intuition, but he can’t deny that sometimes Ten’s intuition is more reliable. Ten is excellent at reading people. He said it was the only thing he gained from ‘that useless Psych bachelor’s degree my parents forced me to study’.
“Uh-huh, we’re on the same page now,” Ten says. “Hey, you never mentioned Sehun-ssi before. All I know is that you were in a long-term relationship before you went to Paris. How did you two meet?”
It was the end of Jongin’s freshman year. The Residential Housing Services sent out an email to all incoming sophomores to instruct about the upperclassmen roommate selection process. Jongin just broke up with Baekhyun, his boyfriend from high school at that time, so in the Special Note section in his housing profile, he wrote, “Recently broke up with my high school bf. Not a big deal, but gotta need a detox from couple life. Would love to room with s/o single.”
Sehun’s request came in two days later. “Sorry to hear that, bro. I can’t cook, I sleep late but I also broke up with my high school bf recently and I’m single and I’ll pray for you b4 I sleep.”
And that’s how their story began.
❀
Their Friday dinner conversation mostly revolves around Chunghee. See, Johnny, Mark’s supervisor, has a neighbor. They’re a family of four, and their youngest daughter is the same age as Chunghee. Luna speaks three languages and has the cutest dimples. Jaehyun, a colleague of Johnny and Mark, has a cousin. Daewoo is four and shares his toys with Chunghee. The problem is, Daewoo also thinks Luna has the cutest dimples.
“Daewoo can speak French,” Chunghee pokes a chicken drumstick with his fork, then he catches Sehun’s gaze and quickly takes a bite. “Luna says it’s cool.”
“You can speak dog language,” Sehun says. “I taught you to pant like Vivi.”
Vivi is their building manager’s bichon frise, a pretty but sassy puppy. He comes to work with his human once or twice a week, lying there behind the reception desk, munching on snacks provided by the receptionist and judging everyone and their life choices.
“I did it, Luna said I was funny!” Chunghee sighs. “But she said Daewoo was super cool.”
“Being funny is cool.”
“Daddy, I don’t want to be funny!” Chunghee whines. “I want to be super cool.”
“Buddy,” Jongin says. “If you want to speak French, I can teach you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I lived in France for two years. Not just French, I can teach you Spanish and Japanese too.” He slows down intentionally as the kid’s eyes are fully on him, wide with hope. “But you know what?”
Chunghee shakes his head.
“I can learn to speak as many languages as I want, but I can’t learn to be funny." He leans forward on the table and points at Chunghee’s chest. “Being funny is a gift. Like your daddy said, being funny is super duper mega cool.” He makes a giant invisible circle with his hands for emphasis. “Daewoo can’t be funny like you. Don’t worry about that, alright?”
Chunghee mulls his words over, then he looks at Sehun. “Daddy, can you teach me to be funnier?”
“Teach him to imitate Google Translate,” Jongin suggests.
“That’s your trick.”
“You managed to do it better than me though.”
“Fine,” Sehun relents. “But it’s your job to show him how to speak chicken.”
Teaching the language of chicken comes with demonstrations of chicken behaviors. Sehun hates acting like a chick. “Deal,” Jongin agrees.
Sehun gives him a knowing smile and leans down to kiss Chunghee’s cheek. “Okay, let’s finish your food and we can start.”
It’s Mark who breaks the good news to Jongin. He sends a video in Kakaotalk. It’s taken in Johnny’s apartment. Chunghee uses his Google Translate voice to read out an English sentence, then he mimics the “Hooray I’ve laid an egg” chicken call (Jongin taught him five different calls, but he mastered this particular call first). A girl with curly blond hair, who Jongin assumes is Luna, is laughing so hard she has to hold onto the armrest. Another boy, probably Daewoo, is doubling over with laughter. Mark’s message says, “luna hugged chunghee today and told him she’d never laughed this hard b4 chunghee was blushing so hard just like when he saw u!!!”
Jongin texts back, did you send Sehun this?
ofc i did, comes Mark’s reply, sent it to him first & he told me to send it to u ;)
Jongin’s grin grows so big that Jongdae has to call him out.
“Director Kim,” Jongdae taps his pen against the conference room table. “What’s so exciting about two accountants starting their maternity leave at the same time right before the audit season?”
I didn’t even hear you saying that, Jongin thinks. Out of professionalism, he straightens his back. “Just wanna remind everyone of our company’s core values,” he says smoothly. “Positivity, right?”
❀
The reunion with Sehun so far is uneventful.
During his first Sehun-less year, before he got too busy with work, he often thought of different scenarios of them running into each other again. Would they stop and say hello, or would they pretend they don’t know each other? If they say hello, what would they talk about? So on and so on.
The reality is quite anticlimax. They’ve been having their Friday dinner for a month. To put it simply, everything is normal. They listen to Chunghee’s stories, teach the kid one thing or two, then they take turns to do the dishes. If Sehun is in the mood for tea, he’d make a pot, then they join Chunghee in the living room, briefly talk about work, then get distracted by whatever Chunghee is excited about until it’s time for Jongin to get back.
It’s comfortable with Sehun. It has always been. For Jongin, Sehun is like an anchor. The months before their breakup were tough; they barely had time to be with each other, too occupied with their jobs, but Jongin loved every second spent with Sehun, even though it was reduced to their bodies tangled in bed sheets, Sehun whining softly into his mouth as he sunk deep into the familiar velvet heat. Sehun felt like a flower field on a sunny day, like a clean blanket, like everything Jongin ever needed, like home.
Until he didn’t.
Years pass and Jongin finds himself in Sehun’s company again, now with a tiny bundle of happiness that is Chunghee. He doesn’t know if it’s the right thing to do — regularly spending time with his ex and his ex’s kid. Are he and Sehun friends now? He doesn’t know. There are a lot of things he doesn’t know.
Yet, it doesn’t bother him. He’s curious, obviously, but he’s also fine with not knowing. He’s content with their current casualty, with the way Sehun entrusts Chunghee to Jongin’s care, or how they quietly drink tea next to each other as if they're two retired old men and not two young entrepreneurs at the peak of their careers. Jongin loves how he doesn’t have to maintain a facade in front of Sehun. He can be himself. Sehun complains when he spills drinks onto the kitchen island or when he trips over Bunny and knocks Sehun's flower vase off the cabinet in the process, but he also tolerates that clumsy side of Jongin. As long as Jongin mops the floor and buys him a new vase, which Jongin already did.
Jongin thinks they can go on like this, no label, just two people eating together once a week and occasionally talking. Why question and complicate nice things when you can enjoy it?
Then Lee enters.
Jongin only knows about Lee’s existence when Sehun slams the door shut, startling both Chunghee and Jongin, who has invited himself in an hour earlier because Mark got an emergency call from work, this time something involving a cat and Wi-Fi cable.
“Hey,” Jongin says. “That’s too loud — Sehun, what’s wrong?”
Sehun’s face is pale. Concerned, Jongin walks over and when they’re only an arm’s length apart, he sees Sehun’s stiffened shoulders and the hard pulse in his throat. “Sehun, what’s going on?”
“It’s Lee,” Sehun mumbles. “He’s coming here.”
“Who’s Lee?”
Sehun runs a hand through his hair. “He’s a lawyer.” The next words are merely a whisper. “He’s also my ex one-night stand.”
As soon as Jongin registers the information, he turns around and tells Chunghee, “Buddy, can you and Bunny go into your room for a bit? Daddy and I need to finish this meeting.”
“Will it take long?” Chunghee asks. “I’m hungry.”
“Not at all, baby,” Sehun answers, mustering up a smile. “I’ll call you when we’re done, sounds good?”
“Okay, Daddy.”
After giving Sehun a welcome home kiss, Chunghee disappears into his bedroom with Bunny. Sehun takes off his jacket and leans back against the couch. “Well?” Jongin prompts.
“Lee is a lawyer from a legal firm we’re working with on animal testing issues. He provides consultation for us and other nonprofits in our collaboration network,” Sehun swallows dryly. “I slept with him once. I was drunk. But then he told me he wanted to date me. I said no but he thought I was playing hard to get. I wasn’t? I’m not interested in him. But I can’t just chase him away. He’s persistent but he’s a smartass so he knows exactly where to stop before it becomes harassment? I often just try to not meet him alone. I mean, he’s a good lawyer and he helps us a lot with our campaigns so I’m willing to tolerate his annoying ass once in a while? But he’s coming here to drop off some documents and discuss something with me too because tomorrow we have an important meeting. I told him I had dinner plans with Chunghee, and he said it would only take half an hour but oh god, I can’t imagine spending half an hour with him.”
It’s the most Jongin has heard Sehun say at once. Jongin understands — Sehun would’ve told the guy to fuck off if he could afford it. But he sucks it up for the greater purpose. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Jongin sighs. “I could’ve connected you with my legal team. They have a big network, they can find your company a good match.”
“Can you just help me think of what to do now?” Sehun glances at his phone screen. “Shit, he’s coming up. He’s in the elevator. Should I pretend that I’m not home yet?”
“Sehun, we can’t play dead. Besides, if you don’t answer both the door and the phone, he’ll probably come get the security.”
Sehun has this uncomfortable look on his face that is similar to a small animal being cornered. “The window?” He suggests. “I can jump out of the window?”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Jongin says. He takes a few seconds to think. “You said Lee was persistent because he thought you were playing hard to get?”
“Yeah. It’s a stupid mindset.” Sehun’s phone rings and he shrieks into his fist. “Fuck, Jongin, he’s here.”
“Calm down,” Jongin soothes.
“How the fuck can I calm down? Do you know how terrible his pick-up line is? And his cringy manner of speech! Man doesn’t know how to flirt!”
“You just don’t like him, it’s okay,” Jongin places a hand on Sehun’s shoulder and squeezes. “I have a plan. It will work, but you have to act along with me, okay?”
“Okay,” Sehun says. He seems relieved that there’s a plan. “What do I do now?”
“Open the door slightly, enough for him to think you forgot to close it,” Jongin says confidently. “Then I’ll take care of the rest.”
Sehun doesn’t look convinced, but he does as Jongin says. They hear footsteps coming towards their direction after Sehun leaves the door ajar.
“Jongin, he’s—”
He can’t finish his sentence as Jongin surges forward and swallows the remaining words with his mouth. He pushes Sehun against the shoe cabinet, wrapping an arm around Sehun’s waist and kisses him. He starts with a light brush against Sehun’s bottom lip, then lets Sehun draw a staggered breath.
“Hi Sehun!” Someone is coming in. Sehun tenses, but Jongin rubs at his side soothingly before he sucks Sehun’s lips, soft and gentle. “I’m bringing you the documents—”
Jongin chooses that moment to dive in with urgency, slipping his tongue between Sehun’s parted lips, tickling his tongue with his own. Jongin’s hands travel from Sehun’s waist up to the sides of Sehun’s head and down to his neck, leaving behind a trail of tender caress. Their lips move seamlessly together, their bodies pressed so close they could inhale each other’s breath, growing heavier with each passing second.
Then Jongin pulls away. He keeps one hand on Sehun’s neck and turns to smile at the flabbergasted lawyer. “Sorry, I didn’t know Sehun had a guest coming.”
Sehun looks even more beautiful with wet, pink lips and flushing cheeks. He’s so red that one could think he just got a sunburn. “Jongin.”
“Sorry babe,” he winks salaciously. Sehun blushes harder, but he nods to let Jongin know he understands the plan. “You’re too pretty. I can’t help it.”
“It’s okay. We do this every day. I should’ve texted you in advance that Mr. Lee is coming.” Sehun says. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lee, I wasn’t aware that the door was open.”
“Uhm, it was my fault. I didn’t knock.” Lee clears his throat. “I...didn’t know you were seeing someone.”
“I like to keep my personal life to myself,” Sehun smiles. Jongin watches as disappointment clouds Lee’s eyes. Damn, the guy really likes Sehun. “Should we talk about what we need to present in tomorrow’s meeting?”
“Oh. Sure. Of course. Let’s do that.”
They move to the couch and start going through the documents. Lee is trying his best to maintain his composure — Jongin’s sure the guy is dying to stop by a pub and drink his sorrows away. His expression is strained and he keeps sneaking glances at Jongin. Though Jongin doesn’t know Lee personally, he feels bad for him. Poor guy can’t even experience that temporary happiness of looking better than his 'love rival’. Lee isn’t ugly, but Jongin is in another league. He takes pity on the lawyer’s self-esteem, so he tries not to flex by not showing his face. He decides to wash and chop the veggies for their hot pot, spending thirty minutes with his back facing Lee.
Lee excuses himself after a professional, straight-to-the-point discussion. He doesn’t mention about seeing Sehun again tomorrow, just gathering his stuff and walking out of the door like he couldn’t wait to get out of here.
“Told you,” Jongin smirks.
“You….” Sehun glares at him. It’s supposed to be threatening, but their eyes meet and Sehun blushes again. “At least tell me what you're gonna do!”
“We had no time for rehearsal,” Jongin deadpans, focusing on the lettuce so he doesn’t have to look at Sehun’s lips. “You would’ve exposed us.”
“Excuse you, I was the president of my high school’s drama club.”
“You got more involved in real life drama than in fiction drama,” Jongin says, “a.k.a the main point of your drama club.” He carefully washes the lettuce. “What was your character in the year-end play again?”
“A horse,” Sehun seethes. “It was an important role.”
“Sure, because how could they let a prince walk?” Jongin laughs. Sehun throws a cushion at him. “Hey, I just saved you.”
“We don’t even know whether Lee will give up.”
“He will,” Jongin says. “Dude likes you a lot but his ego is more important to him. Now that he thinks you have a partner superior to him in all aspects, he’ll back down before he could embarrass himself further.”
“What if he won’t?”
“Then we invite him over so he can see me kissing you again.”
“Shut up,” Sehun groans. “I’m not talking to you. I’m going to play with my son.”
“Ask Chunghee!” Jongin calls after Sehun. “Ask him who’s more handsome between me and Lee!”
Sehun answers by slamming a door shut (again). Jongin puts the lettuce onto a plate and takes a deep breath to calm his racing heart.
He just kisses Sehun. He just kisses Sehun, his ex, and he likes it.
Fuck his life.
❀
Sincerely fuck his life because a thunderstorm is coming.
It’s been raining since the afternoon, steady drops drumming against the window. The rain crashes down onto the balcony with strong gusts of wind. Then it gets worse by the time Jongin finishes his last meeting of the day. Lightning flashes across the darkened sky, followed by deafening rumbles of thunder. From his apartment, Jongin can see the trees in the park across the building bent precariously as though they’re going to get blown away. Jagged streaks of light rip open the sky, releasing a merciless torrential downfall on the city.
Jongin closes the curtain and pours himself a cup of milk. He’s never been fond of thunderstorms. He used to be terrified of thunderstorms when he was a kid, but his sisters taught him to overcome his fear by distraction. They’d watch a cartoon or play a computer game together until the storm went away. As Jongin grows up, he deals with raging thunderstorms using a cup of steamed milk, his headphones on full volume and Friends or Brooklyn 99 on Netflix.
On the screen, Joey just begins to explain his iconic moo point when the glass door separating the living room and the balcony rattles shakily and all of a sudden, after what sounds like a huge explosion, Jongin’s laptop turns itself off and so do other electronic appliances in the apartment.
Great, Jongin mutters as he sits in complete darkness. Outside, the storm comes in full swing, rock-like raindrops hammering against the door. Jongin blows his cheeks out with a heavy breath. It’s unlikely that the electricity will be back on soon. The building will turn on its backup generator, but Jongin can’t use that to watch Netflix. He’s doomed.
Then something crosses his mind. College. He remembers how he dealt with thunderstorms during college. He had a Netflix account and three pairs of headphones from different brands, but he didn’t need to use any of them. He just needed...Sehun.
Sehun, who doesn’t seem surprised when he opens the door at 10 PM for a nervous Jongin. Sehun, who’s beautiful in a white T-shirt and freshly washed hair that smells like tangerine and milk powder, who’s so brave that an earth-shattering bolt of giant thunder couldn’t make him flinch in the slightest. Sehun, who’s devastatingly nice, because he tells Jongin to sit on his couch, gives Jongin a blanket and microwaves a cup of milk for Jongin.
“It’s Chunghee’s milk,” Sehun says when Jongin brings the cup to his lips. “Full cream, so it may be too sweet for your taste.”
Jongin would gladly devour a jar of sugar if it means he doesn’t have to endure the thunderstorm alone. “It’s good.”
Sehun’s right; it’s too sweet for his liking, but he’s wrapped in Sehun’s blanket, in Sehun’s soothing scent, and he’s no longer feeling trapped, so it’s good. “Thank you for letting me in,” he murmurs after taking a long sip. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“It’s not like I have anything to do,” Sehun takes a seat next to Jongin. “I was about to watch this week’s episode of Hospital Playlist when the power went out.”
“Where’s Chunghee?”
“He’s asleep. His bedtime is 9.30 PM, except for his birthday, Christmas and New Year’s Eve.”
Jongin winces as booming thunder follows Sehun’s words. “But the storm?”
“He isn’t afraid of storms,” Sehun says. “Sometimes the rain makes it easier for him to fall asleep.”
Jongin gasps. “No way!”
“He’s my son,” Sehun shrugs, as if it answers every question Jongin has. It doesn’t. Not that particular question he wants to ask.
He blurts out before his conscience can react. “What about his other father?”
The soft glow from the IKEA lamp fills the living room with a warm golden, and Sehun stares at Jongin with a blank expression. Jongin slaps a hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stick my nose in your business. Please forget I said that.” Sehun is still quiet and Jongin sinks back further into the couch. “Please don’t kick me out.”
“Don’t worry,” Sehun says. “FYI, Chunghee takes after my bravery. His papa could never do that. His papa has a coaster phobia.”
Sehun doesn’t sound angry talking about Chunghee’s papa — Jongin guesses it’s how Chunghee likes to call his other father who seems to be...never around? But Sehun looks unbothered. Relief runs through Jongin’s veins. He's glad he isn’t breaking any boundary with his stupid mouth. Anyway, did Sehun just talk about coaster phobia? Coaster phobia is real.
“Do you know these roller coaster rides carry the same risks as flying in an airplane? People die.”
“Statistically speaking, it’s one in 750 million.”
“Statistics mean nothing!” Jongin argues. Death is equally frightening. “Roller coaster accidents are life-changing and tragic.”
Sehun rolls his eyes and Jongin recognizes his All Men Are A Disappointment Look. “Whatever. You’re just missing out on all the fun.”
“I’m definitely not,” he says. “Want me to show you?”
And that’s how they end up working together on the 1000-piece The Amazing Spiderman jigsaw puzzle set. Sehun protests at first, saying he’s had enough looking at lab results and sales data reports already, but Jongin puts on his Ultimate Puppy Eyes and minutes later Sehun is growling at him because “No, it’s not that piece. See the green at the top left? It’s definitely the opposite building.”
They don’t talk much, just exchanging their thoughts on what piece should go where. The thunderstorm keeps raging, white sheet of rain coming down like a waterfall. Jongin can’t see anything outside, so he focuses on the puzzle pieces and the one in front of him, with soft skin, iridescent eyes and long hair falling over his forehead like dominoes. When Sehun lifts his head up to take a break from putting together Spiderman’s suit, he catches Jongin staring and briefly looks away, a soft blush dusting across his cheeks and Jongin can’t help breaking into a shit-eating grin.
“We’re done!” Jongin chirps, taking a few steps back to admire the completed puzzle. “It’s fun, isn’t it?”
Another eye roll from Sehun. “It’s not bad.”
“Oh c’mon, you love it,” Jongin wraps an arm loosely around Sehun’s shoulder. “It’s good for destress.”
“I don’t love it,” Sehun insists. “But yeah, it’s nice to be able to focus on one thing only. Usually there are a million different things in my head at a time.”
“I can totally relate,” Jongin sighs. “I’ll tell Taeyong to buy me a big frame tomorrow so we can put this up.”
“Your life would be a mess without Taeyong.” That’s exactly what Taeyong tells Jongin every time Jongin breaks something or does something stupid, which is almost all the time. “Does he even get paid enough for this?”
That’s also what Taeyong never forgets to include in his speech. “His salary is higher than mine.”
“He deserves it for putting up with your antics,” Sehun goes to get a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge. “Did you ask him to buy flowers for your dates too?”
“No.” Jongin considers whether to tell the truth. He ends up doing it, because he can’t bring himself to lie to Sehun. Jongin hates how weak he is against pretty, talented, amazing, kind, flower-and-baby-powder-smelling people. “I didn’t date anyone. At least not seriously.” Even The Incident is a one-night stand. Sometimes one night turns into two, but the limit is four, and it’s all about sex.
Sehun’s hand freezes on the fridge door handle. He turns around, sparkling water forgotten, his voice merely a whisper but Jongin hears it, loudly, clearly, over the sound of his heart stumbling over its own rhythms. “Why?”
Because if Jongin is honest with himself, he would say that—
The dim kitchen lights up with a bright flash of lightning at the same time an enormous crackle shakes the walls and the floor. Jongin’s hard-earned calmness shatters, and instinctively he shrieks, covering his ears with his palms.
Sehun is next to him in an instant, a warm hand on his back. “Shh, Jongin, it’s okay.”
Jongin feels like a baby, which is bad because Chunghee is a baby and he just sleeps safe and sound throughout the furious storm. “I’m not afraid.”
“I never said you were,” Sehun gives his tense shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Hey, want to watch Running Man?”
They have to stifle their laughter so they don’t wake Chunghee up, but Lee Kwangsoo and Yoo Jaesuk are fucking hilarious. Sehun tells him about Kwangsoo’s departure and how he doesn’t feel the same watching the new episodes without Kwangsoo, so he keeps going back to old seasons. They’re halfway into the second episode when Sehun unconsciously leans back against a cushion and yawns into his hand.
“Shit, it’s 2 AM already?” Jongin blinks at his phone screen. “I should go back.”
Sehun glances at the thick curtain of rain obscuring the view of the neighboring block. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Depends on when the storm will stop,” Jongin says. “But you need sleep.”
Sehun’s face is expressionless when he meets Jongin’s eyes. “So do you,” he pauses. “You can stay. Take the couch, I have extra pillows.”
On a good day, Jongin would decline. But a stormy night is not a good day. Also, Sehun’s pillow smells good and it does a brilliant job in making Jongin feel calm. Free therapy or something like that, the phrase that Generation Z people often use on Twitter.
“Goodnight,” Sehun says.
One particularly loud clap of thunder crashes through Jongin’s eardrums, and he sits up out of fright, words rushing out before he registers what he’s saying. “Sehun, can you stay here until I fall asleep? I promise I’ll fall asleep really fast.”
❀
True to his words, Jongin falls asleep within fifteen minutes. His chest rises and falls steadily. He looks peaceful, lying on his side with one arm curling around Sehun’s waist.
Sehun has no idea how it happened. One moment, Jongin was whining that he couldn’t sleep if Sehun was facing him, so Sehun turned around to honor his ex’s request and when he finishes reading the movie review on his phone, he’s unable to move because Jongin is hugging him like he’s his body pillow. The position is awkward — Jongin is lying on the couch and Sehun is sitting, thus if Sehun stands up, he may jolt Jongin awake and Sehun doesn’t want to spend another fifteen minutes or even longer waiting for his ex to fall back into slumber.
Jongin is warm. Sehun closes his eyes when thunder light cracks through the kitchen’s window, the heat from Jongin’s skin seeps through the thin fabric of his T-shirt, the familiarity taking him back to their apartment four years ago.
2017 was the year that they broke up.
At the age of twenty-three, they shared a life that everyone wanted to have. Sehun was the youngest R&D manager at Sulwhasoo, Jongin was dubbed Asia’s first love, shooting with the world’s top brands and opening for Balenciaga, Louis Vuitton, Gucci and Prada. They owned an apartment in Itaewon and could buy anything they wanted.
They’d been dating since they were nobody. As they built their own legacies in their fields, they started spending less and less time together. The Sulwhasoo lab became Sehun’s second home and Jongin slept on the plane more often than on their bed.
The first few times it happened — Jongin not turning up to their Saturday date because he had to attend Louis Vuitton Korea CEO’s birthday party, Sehun not showing up to dinner at Jongin’s parents’ due to a networking event with Amorepacific’s executives — they fought. Tears-stained face, hoarse voice, random broken objects, their apartment turning into a madhouse. Then they made up. Jongin held Sehun in his arms, painting milky skin with kisses. Sehun arched into Jongin’s touch, I love you, love you spilling out of his lips like a mantra. Their bed sheets reeked of promises, promises they couldn’t fulfill.
Then it became a pattern of them taking turns to disappoint each other. Sehun forgot about their anniversary dinner, leaving Jongin alone at the rooftop restaurant with Sehun’s favorite roses and a special candle-lit dinner. Jongin didn’t make it to Sehun’s brother’s wedding since his flight from Milan back to Seoul was delayed. Somewhere along the line, Sehun stopped crying and Jongin stopped yelling. Sehun’s frustration simmered down to...nothing. He felt nothing when Jongin called and said he couldn’t come to whatever they had already planned. And Jongin didn’t blink an eye when Sehun bailed last-minute because of his work commitments.
There was no hair pulling or fist fighting. They slept on the same bed, and for the little free time they had, Jongin fucked Sehun into the mattress or let Sehun ride him until they collapsed in the post-orgasm exhaustion. Then they went to sleep, and when Sehun woke up, Jongin had already left for work, or vice-versa.
Love is great and wonderful. But love isn’t enough.
Sehun realized he didn’t feel a spark when Jongin kissed him anymore. There used to be sparks flying around every time they kissed, like fireworks inside Sehun’s chest, but now all that was left was the motion of lips pressed together. The sex was still great, Jongin knew how to make Sehun shiver until he begged, skin flushed and mind clouded with a haze of lust. But something had changed. Now they lived in the shadow of the young love they once had.
And that wasn’t a love Sehun wanted. That wasn't a love he'd imagined when Jongin hid the key to their apartment inside Sehun’s wallet to surprise him. So on a Sunday morning, when Jongin asked him to pass the salt in the middle of their breakfast, Sehun said, “Let’s break up.”
Jongin didn’t agree at first. He kept asking, “What’s wrong?”, “Are you mad at me?”, and “I don’t want to”, but when Sehun looked into his boyfriend’s eyes, he couldn’t find anything. Jongin’s eyes were a blank canvas, which only proved that this wall between them had existed since god knew when. Jongin’d always been an open book, and now Sehun couldn’t pronounce a syllable.
“We both know why,” Sehun said. “We love our careers more than our relationship. Our careers are the priority.”
And they should be. Sehun and Jongin had their own dreams. They were just twenty-three and had a whole life ahead of them.
“Please think again, Sehunnie,” was the last thing Jongin told him before he moved back to his parents’ house the next day, giving Sehun that break he thought they both needed.
One and a half months later, they met at a coffee shop. “But we could start over,” Jongin concluded, brown eyes sparkling with what Sehun considered misplaced hope. “We could figure out something together. We always do.”
“Maybe we could,” Sehun sighed. “The point is: I don’t want to try.”
Three days later, Jongin flew to Paris. Sehun didn’t come to say goodbye.
❀
“You met Sehun and Chunghee?”
Chanyeol is as loud as ever. He looks more tanned; Jongin thinks Chanyeol wasn’t exaggerating when he said he spent the entire summer at his vacation home in Florida chilling on the beach and having sex with Baekhyun in the sheets.
“They’re my new neighbors. Chunghee is so cute. And smart.”
“He is!” Chanyeol nods enthusiastically. “Last year he and Sehun went to LA and spent a few days with us. I taught him how to swim. It only took him three hours to get the gist of it.”
Chanyeol goes on to tell the story of him and Baekhyun taking Chunghee to Universal Studios when Sehun attended his conference. It’s funny how life works out. Chanyeol was Sehun’s high school boyfriend. Baekhyun was Jongin’s high school boyfriend. Jongin and Sehun met when they just broke up with Baekhyun and Chanyeol respectively. They’re all friends, though in an unorthodox way: Jongin would go to Chanyeol and Sehun often confides in Baekhyun (Jongin still wondered how Sehun and Baekhyun became close, considering Sehun only knew Baekhyun for a semester before Baekhyun left to study pre-med at Yale on a scholarship).
Chanyeol reunited with Baekhyun several months after Jongin went to Paris. Chanyeol never let Jongin in on the details; he just said they accidentally ran into each other when Baekhyun came to Seoul for his residency. They began dating, then relocated to Los Angeles and are happily engaged now.
It’s funny because Chanyeol and Baekhyun figured out a way to stay together although they’d only been dating for a year when Baekhyun had to return to the US. Sehun and Jongin had five years, including one year being roommates with feelings, yet Jongin landed in Paris alone with two suitcases and a broken heart.
“Jonginnie!” Chanyeol’s voice snaps him out of his reverie. “Jongin, are you listening to me?”
“Sorry, I was thinking about the idea you said earlier for our campaign,” Jongin lies. Chanyeol buys it regardless, for Jongin is an infamous workaholic. “Jonginnie, leave it to me. I’ll work closely with Jungwoo on both the song I write and the CF.”
Jongin has no doubt Chanyeol would ace it. “Thanks, hyung,” he nods. “Oh, since we’re talking about Chunghee, did Sehun raise the kid on his own?”
Chanyeol blinks, surprised. Jongin coughs, trying to act casual. “I’m just curious.”
“Yeah, Chunghee’s papa left when Sehun was pregnant but now that he comes back, it’s all good.”
Jongin feels like the ground has opened, swallowed him whole and taken him to an alternate universe because did Chanyeol really say Chunghee’s papa, Sehun’s partner, the one he cherished enough to have a child with, already came back? And no one thought about telling Jongin? Jongin, The Supreme Neighbor-Babysitter-Human Dishwasher? Then what about their Friday dinner? Or last Thursday, they went grocery shopping together and Sehun had blushed the loveliest cherry blossom pink when Jongin said he was prettier than any flower in the flower aisle? Three days ago, they went to pick up Chunghee from Johnny’s place and waited in the book cafe across Johnny’s building, the two of them leisurely enjoying a cup of hot chocolate and Jongin helped Sehun pick out some good reads?
Chunghee’s papa, whoever the guy is, did none of these, so he has no right. Jongin doesn’t know why he’s angry, but the ugly sensation curls hot and unstoppable in his gut like an inferno. “Jonginnie, are you okay?”
He balls his fingers to a fist. “Hyung, do you know who Chunghee’s papa is?”
“Of course,” Chanyeol says. “You probably know him too.”
Jongin doesn’t, since he never gets to ask Sehun about that. “Hyung, actually—”
His phone rings. He glances at the caller. It’s Mark. He begrudgingly mutes the video call with Chanyeol. “Mark, what’s broken?”
Mark sounds out of breath. “It’s the communal bathrooms on Floor 12. I think one of the showers exploded. Jaehyun said it flooded the whole floor.”
“Flooded the whole floor,” Jongin repeats.
“Something’s wrong with the thermostat as well,” Mark says. “Haechan said the water was freaking hot. I’m on my way. Can you help me pick up Chunghee? He’s at Daewoo’s house. I’ll text you the address. Can you come like, right now? Daewoo and his parents need to leave soon too.”
“Alright, alright,” Jongin sighs, dejected. He ends the call and swipes up Kakaotalk to find the location from Mark. It’s going to take twenty minutes to get there, with the traffic flow at this time.
“Something happened?” Chanyeol asks.
“I have to go pick up Chunghee,” Jongin nods. “Sorry, hyung. I’ll call you later?”
“No worry,” Chanyeol grins. “Tell the kid I and Baekhyun miss him lots!”
Chunghee’s face transforms into a tomato when he sees Jongin in a suit. He ducks his head when Jongin strides over to scoop him up but leans closer to kiss him on the cheek as Jongin helps him buckle the seatbelt. In the car, Chunghee tells Jongin about the new FIFA game Daewoo let him try today, how he scored a goal from a free kick and how Daewoo stopped his kicks three times in a row.
“Daewoo said we shouldn’t fight because of Luna,” Chunghee announces proudly. “If we fight, he will have no one to play FIFA with. Luna doesn’t like FIFA because she’s a girl.”
“Luna doesn’t like FIFA because she doesn’t like it, sweetheart,” Jongin ruffles Chunghee’s hair. “Just like how you don’t like cucumbers and pineapples. It’s not because she’s a girl.”
“So a girl can like football too?”
“Correct,” Jongin grins. “You can like anything, as long as you’re happy.”
“Daewoo’s dad likes FIFA too. Daewoo always plays FIFA with his dad on Sunday.” Chunghee’s brows furrow in deep thoughts. “Daddy doesn’t like football.”
Jongin realizes this may be the only chance for him to ask The Question. “Hey buddy, what about your papa?”
“I don’t know,” Chunghee replies. “I never met Papa. Daddy told me he’d take me to see Papa when I grow up.”
“Did your daddy say anything else?”
“No,” Chunghee shakes his head. “I don’t ask about Papa because it makes Daddy sad. I don’t want to see Daddy sad.”
Jongin’s heart clenches. “Alright, then we won’t talk about your papa.”
“I can tell Jongin,” Chunghee says innocently. “But you have to promise to not tell Daddy.”
Jongin holds out his pinky finger. Chunghee smiles and intertwines their pinkies. “Jisoo told me Daddy and Papa first met in co..co...collug?”
“College,” Jongin pronounces it slowly for the kid to memorize.
So Sehun and Chunghee’s father knew each other from college. Jongin tries to dig into his memories, but he couldn’t come up with any name. Despite them being roommates and then boyfriends, Jongin and Sehun had their own circle of friends. Sehun hung out with the STEM majors while Jongin was buddies with the Arts people. They both experienced the bad shift in mutual friends after breaking up with their high school boyfriends, so to make it less complicated, when they began dating, they set up a rule in which they would maintain their own group of friends. They had a few mutuals: Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Taemin, Minho, Moonkyu, Jieun. Other than these names, they didn’t know much about each other’s friends personally.
Sehun was active in college. He wrote for their school’s newspaper, hosted a monthly science radio show, joined the swimming team and occasionally showed up at anime club meetings. Sehun had a lot of friends. Whenever they ate lunch in the cafeteria, Sehun would spend half the time nodding and waving back at people.
Jongin looks out of the window at a traffic light. Any person out there could be someone Sehun met in college. Irritation surges up inside him. He can’t narrow down the possibilities, and more importantly, he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much.
❀
“You look like shit.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s not a compliment,” Ten says.
“Mine isn’t an expression of gratitude either,” Jongin shoots back.
“You sound so sour I don’t even need this to make my drink,” Ten gestures at a slice of lemon on a small plate next to his can of soda. “What’s wrong? Did you finally find out Ryoma is gay?”
“Stop attacking my goldfish,” Jongin huffs. “Ryoma is fine. I don’t know if he’s gay or not, because he’s still alone in his tank. Like me. Like owner, like fish.”
“Did Sehun-ssi dump your ass again?”
“Sehun didn’t dump me. It was a graceful breakup.” Jongin stops. “Hold on. How did you know about our breakup and what did you mean by ‘again’?”
Ten takes a bite of his burger. “I spent last weekend at Jongdae hyung’s house teaching his daughter to play the piano. We drank and talked about everything and your story suddenly came up.”
“You specifically asked about it, didn’t you?”
“Can’t tell. I was drunk.” Ten shrugs. “For your second question, what I mean is that I think you still have feelings for your ex and you’re devastated because he did something.”
“I don’t have feelings for my ex!”
“Monday the 14th, you came to work giggling like a teen girl. Thursday the 17th, you bought donuts for everyone in the office. The donut shop is in the opposite direction of our company and your apartment, but it’s close to The Skin Kitchen’s headquarters. Tuesday the 22nd, you gave me and Taeyong full size samples of the new sunscreen that weren’t officially on sale yet. On the same day, you took two PJs from our Marvel collab collection, which also wasn’t released yet. Now think about what I said and tell me you don’t have feelings again. If you say it three times, I may believe you.”
Monday the 14th is the day after Jongin kissed Sehun to chase Lee away. Thursday the 17th is the day after the thunderstorm; Jongin had woken up with Sehun snuggling up to him and Mark staring down at them in amusement. He later drove Sehun to work and bought donuts for everyone at The Skin Kitchen and Studio 94. He was happy and proud when Sehun gave him new products; it made him feel special.
Jongin is special. He’s the center of media talks, a star in the fashion industry. Everyone wants him; they make sure he gets what he needs. But it’s different when Sehun makes him feel special. And now Sehun’s ex-partner is possibly back, meaning Jongin may be special no more?
“I don’t know how I feel,” he admits. “I’m not sure if Sehun and I are friends or less or more? It’s fun spending time with him. It’s comfortable although we went four years without seeing each other. I want to keep doing this.”
“Then tell him that,” Ten advises. “You don’t have to put any label yet. But you should tell him that you enjoy spending time with him and his son. Like a heads-up. That way both of you can understand each other’s expectations and you can communicate directly if something comes up later.”
“Maybe Sehun doesn’t have any expectations,” Jongin sulks. “Since he has Chunghee’s papa.”
It’s too late to take his words back. Ten is already staring right into his very soul, so Jongin has no choice but to spill about the conversation with Chanyeol and the not so helpful piece of information Chunghee gave him.
Ten laughs. “You’re jealous. That’s cute.”
Jongin pouts. Ten laughs harder. “That dude coming back doesn’t mean he and Sehun-ssi are getting back together. You should focus on you and Sehun-ssi. Talk to him.”
Talking is not Jongin’s favorite activity when it comes to feelings and relationships, but he can try. Back then he and Sehun parted ways because of work commitments, but Jongin kept thinking that if they’d talked more openly about their problems since the beginning, perhaps things could’ve been different. So. Communication. He’ll do that.
Ten wants to buy a latte for Jungwoo, so they drive to this new French style dessert cafe in Garosugil. Jongin asks Ten to get him three slices of specialty cheesecake; he’ll bring it over to Sehun’s apartment tonight. Maybe Sehun can make tea and they can talk. Jongin will let Sehun know how their Friday dinner is the highlight of his week and how happy he is hanging out with Sehun and Chunghee. Then they can slowly go from there.
That sounds like a good plan until Jongin spots Sehun walking out of an Italian bistro across the street. Even from a distance, Sehun’s lean body and long legs stand out under the sun. He’s wearing his typical work outfit, a pristine white shirt tucked in and black slacks and a pair of sneakers, because it’s easier to walk around in sneakers than in Oxford shoes. He’s stunning as usual. Jongin looks down at his white shirt. They’re matchy.
Except that the guy who walks out after Sehun is also wearing a white shirt under a dark navy Tom Ford suit. It belongs to their Spring - Summer collection that’s expected to drop at the same time with Studio 94 x MCM. The guy looks expensive from head to toe. Sehun waits so they can walk side by side, leaning down when the guy whispers into his ear and they both laugh. They look intimate.
Jongin’s pulse speeds up and his breathing becomes shallow as the Tom Ford guy takes off his sunglasses. It’s Junmyeon. Junmyeon has this unique way of taking off his glasses which has become one of his signatures. Junmyeon, the youngest chairman in history of Kim Holdings. Junmyeon, the president of Student Council at SNU, the chief editor of SNU’s The Daily Collegian. Sehun used to write for the entertainment column, but he quit when Junmyeon graduated. This all happened before Sehun met Jongin.
It’s funny how life works out. Chanyeol’s right. Chunghee’s papa is back, and Jongin knows him. Every SNU alumni knows Junmyeon. The man is the role model.
A great wrench of weariness sweeps over Jongin. His grip tightens on the steering wheel, and he closes his eyes for a moment, forcing his temper under control. The dinner, the comfort during the thunderstorm, the grocery shopping trips, the conversations over tea and books, maybe it’s all in Jongin’s head. Sehun is considerate, overwhelmingly so, therefore it’s normal for him to treat Jongin with kindness, especially if Jongin is close to his son.
Jongin wants to laugh at himself, but the laugh is strangling his throat, and when Ten comes back and places a soothing hand on his shoulder, the laugh has turned into a sob that he desperately holds back.
“It’s nothing,” he says.
❀
Sehun knows Jongin is ignoring him.
He has no idea why, but he’s sure Jongin is avoiding him. He didn’t think much when he came home on Tuesday to see Chunghee with a big, brown teddy bear.
“Daddy, meet Nini,” Chunghee introduced. “Jongin gave it to me. He said he couldn’t eat with us on Friday because he had work.”
“I think it’s the project with MCM,” Mark added from where he was typing furiously on his laptop. “Jongin hyung looks like he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep. He bought ice cream.” Mark jerks his head towards the fridge. “Said he wouldn’t be able to take me and Chunghee out for ice cream tomorrow.”
It seemed normal. Sehun knew how in demand Studio 94 was. Work could get hectic. Chunghee was sad, but he didn’t cry. He got used to it; Sehun tended to pull this “Next time” or “Soon, I promise!” act during every pre-release period of The Skin Kitchen’s new products.
Then Sehun got home earlier than usual on Wednesday after Minseok rescheduled their meeting and overheard Chunghee talking to Jongin on FaceTime. He only heard the last part of the conversation where Jongin told Chunghee he was sorry for missing their ice cream date but he’d make it up when work was over. But it was 4 PM. Jongin has had this discipline rule since college: If he’s really, really busy, he will absolutely not take any personal call until after work hours. Everything needs to wait or go through his secretary.
At that moment, Sehun realized Jongin had been ignoring him. Jongin. Ignoring. Him! The audacity! He got so irritated that he ended up eating strawberry cheesecake ice cream for dinner, only to find out that the ice cream was bought by Jongin.
Friday comes and Sehun takes Mark and Chunghee out to a Chinese restaurant. He drops Mark off at his workplace, then drives home with Chunghee and ignores the stupid door of Apartment 1014. Jongin could wither in there talking to his mute goldfish and Sehun wouldn’t care. He hopes Jongin chokes on his GS25 lunch box dinner while he and Chunghee drink strawberry smoothie and watch Mulan.
Mulan is a nice movie, but Chunghee has watched it at least ten times, so Sehun can tell his son is not really into exploring the historical and cultural implications behind Mulan masquerading as a man and harnessing her inner strength. The kid is 3. He’d prefer watching Goosebumps with Jongin while sitting in Jongin’s lap then hiding his tomato red face in Jongin’s chest whenever a monster appears.
Sehun looks at his son who has dozed off on the couch, clinging tightly onto Nini the bear. On the screen, Mulan goes into the family temple and wipes her makeup off with her sleeve. Sighing, Sehun pauses the movie and gently touches Chunghee’s cheek. The kid doesn’t stir.
“You miss him, don’t you?” He whispers. Chunghee spends an hour every day playing with this farm Lego set he borrowed from Jongin and he has temporarily left Bunny for Nini. He doesn’t say it, but Sehun knows. “Why did you have to take after me the one thing I hate the most?”
Having nothing to do now that Chunghee’s asleep, Sehun goes to pick up laundry from the dryer. Then he’ll tuck Chunghee to bed, prepare ingredients for their breakfast tomorrow, maybe go watch a Chinese drama on Netflix and call it a night. He doesn’t want to think about Jongin.
The universe is having a good laugh at Sehun’s expense because the first thing Sehun gets from the dryer is a striped T-shirt that belongs to Jongin. Mark told him that Jongin knocked off a chocolate milkshake when he tried to find a hiding place to play hide-and-seek with Chunghee. Typical Jongin behavior. Mark suggested that Jongin left his dirty T-shirt here even though Jongin’s apartment is five steps away. Typical Mark behavior.
Sehun brings the T-shirt to his nose and immediately regrets it. The unscented laundry detergent can’t wash out Jongin’s significant scent, like sun-browned salty skin, like vetiver and cashmeran. Jongin isn’t a fan of cologne, yet he has this warm, woody scent like Mugler Alien blended with his skin. While Sehun wouldn’t call it powerful, it makes him feel safe.
Jongin still smells the same. Heck, he is still the same — he hates thunderstorms, loves fried chicken, has a tendency to break things, and is devastatingly gorgeous. Even his habit of ignoring Sehun without having a proper conversation remains the same. Something had happened, but of course Jongin wouldn’t say it.
And Sehun — Sehun is no better. He’s older now, no longer a dreamer who thought about love the way a kid dreamed of magic carpets and enchanted sleeps. But his heart still gave a thunderous bang against his ribs that morning when he woke up in Jongin’s arms, the two of them snuggled on the couch, Jongin’s breath on the back of his neck, and outside the sun was rising. Thankfully Jongin was a heavy sleeper, otherwise he’d have seen that red flush on Sehun’s face. After many years, Sehun still blushes at the sight of Jongin as if it’s a muscle memory.
What’s worse is that Chunghee inherits the goddamn same reaction. Out of all the top-tier genetic traits he could (Sehun’s whole face, or even better, personality), his son ends up with this helpless physical reaction against Jongin’s attractive appearance.
Sehun carries the laundry into the living room and sits down next to a sleeping Chunghee. The kid looks peaceful, tiny hands curled around the brown fur of Nini. It took Sehun a year to not feel that sting in his heart whenever he looked at Chunghee. The little boy has his impressive eyebrows and straight nose, but other than that, he’s a carbon copy of his papa. Honey skin, plump, pouty lips, a deep dimple, and twinkling brown eyes that can speak. Even their sleep positions are similar.
“Why are you so whipped for him too?” Sehun asks, although Chunghee can’t hear him. “Why do you have to blush whenever he comes over? He’s an idiot.”
❀
November 2017 was madness.
Jongin didn’t agree to Sehun’s request for breaking up, but he acknowledged that they’d been drifting away. The next day, he moved back to his parents’ house when Sehun was asleep, leaving behind a pot of Sehun’s favorite porridge and a letter that said they could use a bit of a break. You’re the most important person in my life, Jongin wrote, I don’t want us to end like this. Nevertheless, you’re right. Can we just spend more time thinking about us?
Sehun put the letter away, heated up a bowl of porridge, and promptly threw up everything a few minutes after he finished eating.
The symptoms continued — he found himself throwing up at the smell of random food, feeling dizzy when he stood up, and this queasy sensation in his belly that woke him up better than any alarm. He thought it was a common cold at first, until he passed out in his company’s bathroom one day. Minseok, his direct supervisor at that time, rushed him to the hospital and they found out that Sehun was pregnant.
Minseok had laughed in panic when the blissfully unaware doctor congratulated Minseok on “having a gorgeous, talented partner and now a baby!” Sehun had wanted to cry.
The real partner, the father of Sehun’s child, was in Tokyo that day, opening for the Ralph Lauren Spring collection. Sehun scrolled through pictures of Jongin walking down the runway like a modern reincarnation of James Dean and looking ready to teach every man a thing or two about how to dress. Sehun’s heart used to feel like it’d leap out of his chest and start dancing when he saw Jongin all dressed up, but now looking at the model, he felt empty.
Having a baby was a big deal, but what good would it bring to tell Jongin if Sehun already fell out of love? Sehun was capable of raising his child alone. He didn’t want the child to be a burden. Forcing himself to stay in a relationship for the sake of his child when he couldn’t find the sparks anymore might do more harm than good in the long run.
“You should tell him,” Minseok said. “Listen, Jongin is your boyfriend and your baby’s father. He deserves to know. I understand you have your own perspective and you assume you know Jongin’s but it’s not always true. Maybe your relationship can’t be saved anymore, but that shouldn’t take away Jongin’s right to at least know. Especially if you believe you guys are having a graceful breakup.”
Minseok was right. As much as Sehun wanted to avoid involving Jongin in this whole baby thing, Jongin was the baby’s father. And they were adults. They should handle this the mature way.
Another month passed. Sehun’s morning sickness had decreased drastically after he started taking vitamins and eating more balanced meals (courtesy of Minseok). He was busier than normal — Sulwhasoo and Amorepacific took it personally to beat their rival Estee Lauder in the holiday season makeup release. He almost forgot that he had a baby growing inside his belly, and that he hadn’t told Jongin about it.
Jongin called him a week before Christmas. They met at an artistic coffee shop up the hill near Gangnam Station. Jongin got himself a latte with extra milk and ordered a cup of Christmas edition hot chocolate for Sehun. The warm, sweet liquid gave Sehun a boost of energy, a bit of confidence too. After a few conversational words about how they’d been doing, Sehun was ready to tell Jongin.
It was Jongin who spoke first. “Elite Paris called me. They had an offer.”
Paris, home to haute couture and prêt-à-porter, the capital of fashion design. It’d been Jongin’s dream since he did his first magazine cover back in freshman year. “I talked to the CEO. They agreed to my conditions. I can study to be a designer. They said creative directors like Marc Jacobs, John Galliano, and professors from Esmod and Studio Bercot. I can do that while working as a model for them.”
While Jongin was a big name in the male modelling industry, his goal was to be a designer and have his own clothing line. He’d been taking courses and learning from the designers and directors he worked with, but an opportunity to study fashion design in Paris would be an incomparable experience.
“That’s amazing, Jongin.”
“Yeah, but I haven’t answered them yet,” Jongin gulped. “I—I’ve been thinking about us.” He gnawed at his lower lip. “You’re right. We’ve been putting our careers above anything else. And it’s not a bad thing, because we both have so many dreams to achieve. But maybe we don’t have to choose one. I—I want to try to have both? Greedy, right? You’re the best thing that ever happened to me and I’ve been a shitty boyfriend but I hope we can start over. I’m willing to compromise, Sehunnie. If you let me, I’d find a way. We could come to Paris together. Or,” he took a deep breath. “I could decline Elite Paris.”
Paris. Sehun knew he wasn’t ready to start all over in Paris, because his career just began. He and Minseok already had a plan for their own cruelty-free, organic skincare line. They talked to a few farmers in Jeju last week. Everything was in motion. That meant Jongin had to give up his Paris dream. And if he knew Sehun was pregnant, he’d decline Elite Paris in a heartbeat.
Then what? Would Sehun be happy with kisses that didn’t ignite fireworks? Would Jongin be happy changing diapers and singing a lullaby next to a crib when he could’ve achieved so much more in Paris? It wasn’t worth it.
Looking into Jongin’s eyes, Sehun said, loudly, clearly. “Let’s break up.”
Jongin didn’t wait until after Christmas. His flight departed three days later. Sehun woke up to a text, a simple “Goodbye, Sehun-ah. Take care!”, and a Cartier watch wrapped in red papers and green ribbons. An early Christmas present. Jongin cleared out his wardrobe, but he left behind many things. His bear cup, his toothbrush, his cactus plant, his stupid protein powder, his books.
His child.
“Happy birthday, Sehun,” Jongin said. In the blink of an eye, April had come. “Did you get my cake? How have you been?”
The pregnancy was going well. Sehun stopped experiencing morning sickness by his third month. Now at seven months, Sehun had learned to tune into the baby’s schedule of kicking and wiggling around. “Minho hyung stopped by but I was in a meeting so he dropped off the cake at the reception,” Sehun reached down a hand to caress his belly. There was a fluttering movement, not a kick but more like a nudge from the baby. “Thank you. I’m good. How about you? Did you finally learn to make a perfect salmon en papillote now?”
Jongin laughed and started telling Sehun about his recent photoshoot. Sehun rubbed small circles around his belly button and ignored the way the baby inside was getting way too excited.
Chunghee was born in August. Baekhyun, who was in Seoul for his residency, asked for the best OB-GYN at his hospital to deliver the baby. Sehun cried the moment he held Chunghee in his arms, tiny and innocent and a miracle. He remembered feeling overwhelming love, like it actually hurt his heart physically.
Sehun thought he was doing great. Everything went well. He and Chunghee moved to Jisoo’s house. Baekhyun and Chanyeol spent their ‘dates’ changing diapers and playing with Chunghee until they left for Los Angeles six months later. Minseok stopped by every other day. When Chunghee turned one, Sehun and Minseok quit their jobs at Sulwhasoo and officially launched The Skin Kitchen. Junmyeon, Minseok’s boyfriend and Sehun’s senior from college, helped them a lot in marketing and networking. Sehun got extremely busy, but he managed.
Chunghee is a lovely kid. He rarely whines or cries. When his demands aren’t met, he would sulk for a while, those plump lips jutting out in a natural pout. A mini version of Jongin, really. But if Sehun explains to him or gives him ice cream or watches Power Rangers with him, he’ll be happy again. Sehun owes Chunghee’s well-behaved manners to Jisoo. He went back to work two months after giving birth to Chunghee, so most of the time Chunghee was with Jisoo, who taught him a lot. Every wise word coming out of Chunghee often starts with, “Jisoo told me…”
Chunghee only asked about his papa once. He was about two years old at that time. Sehun didn’t know what brought up the question. Maybe he watched something on TV. Maybe Mark took him to the park and he saw other kids playing with both of their parents. But during dinner, he refused to eat and asked Sehun about his papa and wailed when Sehun didn’t answer.
It was the first time Sehun felt utterly helpless. He prided himself in being independent and strong, but as Chunghee’s tiny frame shook with sobs, Sehun let out a frustrated cry. He didn’t know what to do. Jongin would’ve known, because his ex was fucking good with kids. Jongin would’ve known how to explain to Chunghee, probably a nonsense story that he made up but it sounded very logical. Or maybe Jongin would’ve told the truth, because Jongin wore his damn heart on his sleeve, like when he kissed Sehun in their dorm room and told Sehun “I like you”, or when he burst into tears the first night they slept in their apartment because “Sehunnie, this is a new chapter for us, I’m so fucking happy.”
But Jongin wasn’t here. Sehun had let him go. And here he was, with his crying son, who was pretty much a carbon copy of Jongin. A pang gripped his heart and his throat thickened with sobs. His face crumpled like a used tissue, and he must’ve looked so pitiful, so broken, because Chunghee’s eyes widened in surprise before he wrapped his tiny arms around Sehun’s neck.
“Daddy, pwease don’t cry.”
Yet Sehun did. He held Chunghee close and cried until his eyes hurt.
Chunghee never asked about his papa again. Sehun felt bad — an adult’s issues should never be a child’s concerns. He tried to prompt the topic, saying he’d bring Chunghee to see his papa one day, but Chunghee simply nodded and started talking about something else.
❀
Until Jongin comes back.
Sehun has his suspicions when Mark and Chunghee mention Jongin The Neighbor. A tall, extremely handsome guy that has a massive Lego collection, loves chocolate ice cream and has a closet dedicated to outfits he wears when he runs errands, like grocery shopping or taking out garbage. Also, he makes Chunghee blush. Mark thinks it’s a nice trait to have — a sharp eye for hot guys. Sehun’s gut feeling says otherwise, but he truly hopes it’s just a coincidence. People have name-twins.
Except that it’s not Jongin’s name-twin. It’s Jongin The Ex, standing in Sehun’s apartment, tousled hair and toned arms, neck glistening with sweat, asking for salt. Salt. Because he refused to go to GS25 unless he put on an haute couture shirt.
Getting back into a routine with Jongin is easy. Irresistible. Jongin doesn’t have to try hard. He’s smart, kind, thoughtful and comfortable to be around. It wouldn’t be much of a problem had they broken up on a bad note. But they didn’t. They broke up because of their careers. There’s no hatred. All these years, Sehun’s tiny concern was whether Jongin hated him for initiating the difficult conversation, but Jongin cleared that all up at their first Friday dinner. He even teased Sehun. That bastard.
Then before Sehun knows it, Jongin has naturally weaved his way back into Sehun’s life. Their life, since Chunghee absolutely adores the man. Sehun thinks even Jongin is not aware of what he’s doing. He simply enjoys spending time with Chunghee, it’s how they arrive at where they are now. Jongin is sunshine personified; it was the reason Sehun fell for him many years ago, when they were young and naive and thought they could have the world at their feet as long as they were in love.
Truth is, real love doesn’t always have a spark.
The 23-year-old Sehun would disagree, but the 27-year-old Sehun knows better. Ever since Sehun became a father, his views on love have changed. Love isn’t something as grand as driving a Ferrari to your mansion and waking you up from an enchanted sleep. Real love lies in small gestures, like the coffee pot Junmyeon turns on for Minseok every morning, the grocery run Minseok does for Junmyeon’s nacho fixings. It’s Jisoo’s boyfriend waking up early on a Sunday morning and washing her car for her.
(“I honestly never bother to find out what the spark is,” Minseok says. “As long as we want to fuck each other, it’s good. I could barely breathe before our product release date, what makes you think I care about fireworks or whatever it is? I only care about whether he’s keen on dicking me down. Or vice-versa. I’m flexible.”
“There are days I’m so mad or tired that I don’t even want to see him, let alone kiss and feel that spark,” Jisoo says. “But I don’t date him solely because of chemistry? Chemistry is just a part of love. Love needs more than that. Caring, engagement, respect. Even self-sacrifice, you know.”)
Sehun starts to see the small gestures. Jongin lets Chunghee spit the meat into his palm. Jongin pays attention to Mark’s deadlines and arranges his own schedule in a way that he could help if Mark asks. Jongin plays rock paper scissors with Chunghee and losing on purpose so that he gets dishwashing duty. Jongin prepares vegetables and meat in advance for Sehun to cook.
When Jongin pushed him against the couch and kissed him, there were no trumpets and fairy dust. Jongin’s lips were warm like baked bread, coaxing Sehun’s mouth open, then their tongues collided, and it felt like the first soft rain after a drought. Sehun forgot it was a show they put on to chase Lee away.
A part of Sehun wants to believe that Jongin’s attachment to Chunghee means something, but another part of him needs to stay realistic. If Jongin truly cares, he would’ve searched for Sehun, right? The breaking news of the world-famous supermodel Kim Jongin returning to Seoul to launch his own clothing line was all over the media a year ago. If Jongin cares, he would’ve contacted Sehun. He would’ve asked about Chunghee’s papa.
(He did. Sehun left him a vague answer, thinking he already knew because Chunghee is literally his carbon copy, minus the eyebrows and the nose, but doesn’t Jongin have more than one brain cell? Apparently not. Worse, Jongin took the vague answer as Sehun’s way of warning him to never talk about Chunghee’s papa ever again.)
“Daddy?”
Chunghee’s sleepy voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He blinks. “Yes, baby?”
“Is that Jongin’s shirt?”
Jongin who doesn’t even recognize his own son although they’re look-alikes and not to mention Jongin spends at least fifteen minutes admiring himself in the mirror every morning. Jongin who wakes up one day and decides he’d rather talk to his stupid goldfish that he names after Ryoma in Prince of Tennis rather than Sehun. Real pretty human neighbor Sehun. Sehun doesn’t need that idiot. He’s not going to act on some feelings. He’s been fine all these years without Jongin. He will be fine without Jongin.
“It’s our new mat,” says Sehun.
❀
“You look like shit,” Taeyong says.
“Thanks for telling me.”
“You act like one too,” Jongdae says. It’s supposed to be harsh, but Jongdae sounds so soft Jongin thinks he’s listening to a compliment. “Streets saying you made three interns cry in the middle of a briefing, fired two guys from Jungwoo’s team, and kicked a stray cat yesterday.”
“Lies!” Jongin protests. “I didn’t kick a stray cat. I’d never kick one.”
“So you really made three interns cry and fired two guys from Jungwoo’s team,” Jongdae sighs. “What did they do?”
They either staged a light in the wrong direction or came up with shitty ending poses for the models. Jongin can’t remember. “They’re professionals. If they don’t learn to be mentally strong, they won’t survive in this industry.”
“How about you learn to not let out your pent-up frustration on your employees,” comments Jongdae. “Do you want to borrow my corgi?”
“Why would I need your corgi?” Jongin acts cool. He always needs Jongdae’s corgi, though. The corgi is smiley and fluffy and friendly. She won’t lead Jongin on. She won’t do domestic things with Jongin like grocery shopping or cooking while getting back to her ex-partner. Jongin should only trust animals. Humans are scary.
“To use her as an excuse to visit your neighbor and tell him how you’re still in love with him and sort it out before everyone in this company hands in their resignation because you’ve been a pain in the ass, truly.”
“I second that,” Taeyong agrees. “We have two collections coming out and we need a full team on board. We can’t afford scaring our staff away with your attitude. Ten was so angry yesterday he ate a pineapple. Raw. Now you go tell Sehun-ssi or I’ll tell him myself before Ten ends up eating more fruits. I think that’s part of his transformation ritual. He’s evolving. Like Pokemon. And he’s already scary enough as a human.”
“But Junmyeon.”
“Talk to Sehun. Forget about everyone else.” Jongdae looks like he’s imagining Ten evolving into a Mega Salamence. “Hey Taeyong.”
“Yes?”
“Can we ban fruits in the cafeteria until Jongin sorts out his love life?”
❀
Jongin has five plans.
He’s proud of the range — from a reservation at an upscale steakhouse or a surprise cake baked by him and a bouquet of Sehun’s favorite flower to a handmade card delivered by Chunghee, or even the most basic plan a.k.a sending Chunghee to Johnny’s place with Mark and Jaehyun so Jongin could kiss Sehun until they’re breathless and their bodies can do the talk. Jongin gets everything covered. They will talk. Jongin will not run away.
It turns out that Jongin will not run away because he can’t. He wakes up with an ugly, wet cough and a buzzing headache. When he tries to stand up, he’s hit by the bright white lights above. The room is spinning as he props himself up against the wall and another hacking cough forces its way out of Jongin’s dry throat.
“Fuck,” he rasps out. His head feels like it’s filled with straw as he drags himself to the bathroom. He takes a Tylenol and goes back to bed, hoping he can just sleep it off. He hates being sick. It’s troublesome.
It’s past noon when he opens his eyes again. The Tylenol doesn’t help, it bounces off his throbbing headache like it’s armored. The back of his thin shirt is dampened with sweat, but he feels fucking cold. It hurts to move. Jongin gathers all his strength to grab his phone from the bedside table and sends Taeyong a text.
i think i got a flu, pls get me chicken soup no coriander a lil bit of pepper ‘n medicine everything hurtssss
Taeyong’s reply comes within five minutes. Hyung, try to rest. Will drop by in an hour.
One hour feels like an eternity. The pain inside his head spreads to his arms, then his legs, until his entire body aches. He tries to steady his breathing, only to be interrupted with coughs and his runny nose.
When he hears the front door open, he wants to shout in relief because he hates being alone when he’s sick. He clears his throat and calls for Taeyong, but what comes out is a bout of coughs that wracks his frame.
Someone is twisting the doorknob of his bedroom. It turns, and that someone looks like Sehun?
“I must be hallucinating,” Jongin whimpers. “God, you...you look like Sehunnie.”
He attempts to sit up when the rhythm of blood throbbing in his temple suddenly increases. His vision blurs, and the last thing he registers is the Sehun-hallucination rushing towards him. Damn. He really misses Sehun that much.
❀
Sehunnie.
It’s what the idiot says before passing out. Jongin’s skin is burning up when Sehun brushes back his sweat-damp hair. His breathing is ragged, and he unconsciously furrows his brows in pain as Sehun places a cool, damp washcloth on his forehead and his neck. He’s got a fever. It’s 38.9°C. Sehun spends half an hour sitting next to Jongin to make sure there’s no unusual sign before he moves to the kitchen to make chicken soup. He has brought medicine, but Jongin can’t take it until he regains consciousness.
Ryoma swims out of his castle to observe Sehun. “I hate your human,” he tells the goldfish. “I could’ve been at COEX shopping right now.”
The Skin Kitchen launched their first two products in the green tea makeup line yesterday — tinted sunscreen and tinted lip balm with SPF — and they were sold out on the website within three minutes. As a reward for the team who’d been working nonstop, Sehun and Minseok decided to treat everyone to BBQ lunch and gave them half the day off today. Sehun had planned to go shopping with Minseok after lunch. He was helping Minseok choose a coat for Junmyeon when Mark called him.
“Taeyong texted Jongdae who texted Ten who texted me.” Apparently Jongin got a flu, Taeyong was in Busan for an unexpected family emergency, Jongdae’s daughter was also down with a cold, and Ten was busy taking over Jongin’s meetings. “And I — no, Jaehyun, I don’t know why the coffee makers on Floor 10 and Floor 11 can’t make coffee. Shouldn’t you call the manufacturer? I’m busy fixing this elevator.”
“Who got stuck this time?”
“...Johnny,” Mark said. “That’s why I called. Technically speaking, the odds of Johnny dying are greater than those of Jongin hyung.”
“I can’t just let people die,” Sehun concludes. Ryoma bubbles. Sehun thinks the fish isn’t impressed, but maybe it’s just his imagination.
A long call with Minseok and Sehun is satisfied with his chicken soup. It’s hard not to be, especially when Minseok takes out all the ingredients from his own fridge so he can do a live cooking class for Sehun via FaceTime. Sehun tastes a spoonful of the cozy soup. He can’t find rosemary, but the combination of garlic, ginger, lemongrass and thyme is already a godsend.
“S..Sehun?”
Sehun turns around to find Jongin standing in the hallway, a bunch of tissues in his hand, the skin around his nose is red, probably from being rubbed too harshly. He has changed out of his PJs into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. His lips move, but the words he wants to say turn into a hacking cough.
“Why don’t you stay in bed?” Sehun wraps an arm around Jongin’s side to help him stand on his feet.
“Sorry,” Jongin croaks out in a watery breath. “I just want to see if it’s really you. Where’s Chunghee?”
“He’s with Jisoo today. He’ll come back after dinner.” Sehun lets Jongin lean on him as he maneuvers his ex back to the bedroom. “Here, let me check your temperature.”
The thermometer says 38.3°C, which is not much better, but it proves that Jongin just needs to rest properly. “I’ll get you some chicken soup, then you take your medicine and try to get some sleep, okay?”
Jongin shrinks back into the soft blankets he’s cocooned in. “I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat to take your medicine,” Sehun says in a tone that he uses to explain to Chunghee why it’s important to brush his teeth twice a day. “Just a little bit.”
“Don’t wanna,” Jongin whines.
“Too bad.” He moves closer to press his hand against Jongin’s forehead. “I already made it.”
“You did?” Jongin asks, disbelief evident in his tone. Sehun holds back a judgmental glare. Excuse him, Sehun is nice. “You made chicken soup for me?”
Jongin has to pause mid-sentence to blow his nose, and he looks terrible, but then his face morphs into a genuine, binding smile that lasts for ten seconds before he’s taken by another stream of coughs. He still looks terrible, in a way that is unfit for a magazine photoshoot and fit for making Sehun’s heart rate increase. Sunshine and rainbows and all that cheesy shit. God, Sehun is down bad. Not with a flu like his ex, but with feelings for his ex. Stupid feelings.
“It’s so good,” Jongin says around a mouthful of soup. “You’re too good.”
“Stop speaking nonsense,” Sehun grumbles, ignoring the heat crawling up to his cheeks.
“You’re so cute,” Jongin coos.
“Shut up,” Sehun takes the empty bowl from Jongin’s hand and gives him a glass of water. “Take your medicine.”
Jongin glances down at the pills in his palm. “Do I have to take all of these?” He grimaces. “There are too many. Can I have the cough syrup instead?”
“No.”
“I don’t like these,” Jongin pouts. “They taste gross.”
Sehun sighs. Sick Jongin is whiny and grumpy and acts like a baby. Or worse, because Chunghee never complains whenever he has to take medicine. “Come on, Jongin. They taste gross, but they’ll make you feel better, I promise.”
“Give me a kiss.”
“What?”
“I’ll drink my medicine if you give me a kiss. Just a quick one.” He stops to blow his nose again. “Since I don’t want you to get sick.”
You can throw the medicine away and go die and I still wouldn’t care, you prick, Sehun thinks, then says, “Okay.”
Jongin swallows all his pills with a happy glint in his bloodshot eyes that is unguaranteed for someone who claimed the pills tasted gross just a moment ago. “Done,” he declares. “Come here, Sehunnie.”
This is all stupid because Sehun doesn’t want Jongin back into his peaceful life and he certainly doesn’t swoon internally at the pet name rolling off Jongin’s tongue. He is unaffected. He has reached zen.
“Fine,” he huffs out and scoots closer. Jongin closes his eyes, a tiny grin making its way to his lips. The audacity. Sehun must wipe that shit-eating grin off his face. So he does it, with his own lips.
Time stands still as their lips brush. Jongin wraps an arm around Sehun’s waist, almost possessively, and Sehun presses forward, arching into the touch. That one breath they share is slow and hot, and the familiar sensation when Jongin’s fingers travel down his neck takes him back to those memories from a long time ago that he’d tried to suppress.
“Sorry,” Jongin suddenly pulls back. “I have to—” A wet, rattling cough cuts off his words. Sehun winces. It sounds painful.
“Try to get some sleep,” he tucks the blankets tighter around his ex. “You’ll feel better when you wake up.”
“Thank you,” Jongin slurs, too exhausted from the coughing fit to make any witty remark. He grabs Sehun’s hand. “Sehunnie, I miss you.”
Sehun squeezes his hand. “I’m not going anywhere. Now sleep.”
❀
Jongin wakes up to something soft pressed against his face.
He cracks open an eye and finds himself staring into Bunny’s black button eye. The room is not spinning anymore, and the electric pain behind his eyes has dulled to a very bearable level. He attempts to move, then realizes there’s something pressed against his back, also ultra soft.
“Jongin!” Chunghee runs to his bed. “You’re up!”
It is then that Jongin sees he’s squished between Bunny and Nini. He looks at Chunghee. “Hi buddy, did you have fun at Jisoo’s place?”
“We went to the park and ate pizza!” The kid beams but shakes his head when Jongin starts coughing. “But it’s not fun now. Jongin is sick.”
“I’m fine.”
“Daddy says you’re sick,” Chunghee’s voice wavers a bit.
“I’m feeling better now,” Jongin smiles. God, the kid is so innocent and cute. “Did you bring Bunny and Nini here?”
Chunghee nods. “Mark says Bunny and Nini have magic. Last week my stomach hurt but I hugged them and went to bed and in the morning the stomachache went away!”
“Yeah, Bunny and Nini will take care of Jongin,” Sehun appears at the door, carrying a new bowl of chicken soup and a new washcloth. “Jongin needs to rest, so you go back with Mark, alright?”
“Alright, Daddy,” Chunghee pouts. “Jongin.”
“Hmm?”
“Can we watch Goosebumps tomorrow?”
That earns him a scoff from Sehun and an amused laugh from Jongin. “Of course, buddy,” he stifles a cough and grins. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He makes a pinky promise with Bunny because he doesn’t want Chunghee to get close to him and risks the kid getting a flu. Chunghee tells Bunny and Nini to “look after Jongin” before he returns to his apartment and plays with Mark.
“Look, your fever went down,” Sehun shows him the thermometer. 37.5°C. “It was 38 an hour ago. This is a good sign.”
“You’ve been taking my temperature every hour?”
“What else am I supposed to do?” Sehun deadpans. “You keep kicking your blankets off then you shiver. If I leave for one minute you’d probably die from pneumonia.”
“It’s just how I sleep,” Jongin blushes. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.”
“I did it anyway. Here, eat it,” Sehun places a bowl in front of him. “I add ditalini pasta.”
“Have you eaten yet?”
“Mark and I ate earlier before Chunghee came back,” Sehun hums. “Don’t worry about me. You’re the patient.”
Jongin laughs. “I don’t mind being a patient if the nurse is someone pretty like you.”
“All you do is say shit because you know I’d never hit a sick person,” Sehun growls. “Shut up and eat.”
“You know, if you need to go back, please do. I only have a slight fever now, I can just sleep it off.”
“Mark is staying with Chunghee tonight.” Sehun looks flustered. “Can you—can you just be quiet and eat?”
Jongin blinks. “You’re not thinking about that Halloween nurse costume in our senior year, are you?” No answer. “Oh my god, you still remember it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Sehun stands up. “I have some important emails to answer. Finish your food or I’ll be very mad and punch you.”
❀
Sehun thinks Jongin should be okay now. He still coughs and has a runny nose and a light headache, but his temperature is almost back to a solid 37°C. He can move around without staggering, can speak long sentences (something about a short horror movie that is “not scary at all!” but Sehun knows better than to take the bait) without breaking into a fit of spasmodic coughing, and he even takes a shower when Sehun goes back to his apartment to grab his laptop charger. If Sehun thinks Jongin looks hot with his bare sunkissed skin and wet hair and whatever they put in his shower gel that always makes him smell like softener right out of the dryer, warm and soft and fucking endearing, then he doesn’t say a word about that.
Jongin is doing fine, which brings Sehun to an important question: Why the hell is he still here? He tears his gaze away from his laptop screen and turns around to find Jongin lying on his back and laughing at something that probably isn’t that funny, considering Jongin is watching a true crime documentary. But Jongin once choked on his laugh because he saw a crab-shaped cloud, so it’s not too surprising if he finds the criminal’s dog hilarious.
It’s mere boredom, Sehun tries. It’s an act of kindness. He’s been taking care of Jongin since noon. It’s too irresponsible to leave him alone, too pointless to go back to his apartment since Chunghee is asleep and Mark is using the big TV screen to watch some technical engineering videos.
“Do you need anything?” Sehun asks half an hour later when he finishes going through all the [Urgent] emails. The majority of them aren't urgent at all. He’ll make sure that HR schedule an email etiquette training next week. “Still want the cough syrup?”
Jongin inhales. “Thanks, but I don’t need the syrup.” He puts the iPad away and gives Sehun a long, calculated look. “I need you.”
When Sehun doesn’t respond, he repeats, gently, slowly, clearly. “I just need you. Stay, please.”
It’s too naive to not stay, because Sehun knows something is bound to happen. That’s why he’s here. That’s the simplest answer to his question.
“Okay,” Sehun breathes out. Jongin does too. There’s a plethora of emotions in his ex’s sparkling brown eyes — relief, hope, and unmistakably, lust.
Sehun isn’t sure who moves first, but soon they’re tangled in bed, lips against lips and hands all over each other’s body. Jongin’s hand travels down Sehun’s back and squeezes his ass, jiggling it and drawing a moan from Sehun’s red, swollen lips. It’s the best sound that should top all the charts in Melon, if Jongin’s being honest. He pulls Sehun close, caressing the inside of Sehun’s mouth with his tongue and gliding his other hand under his ex’s shirt, touching the soft skin that’s drumming with needs.
“Jesus,” Sehun’s breaths turn into pants as Jongin trails kisses across his jaw to his neck, licking at his beating pulse. Jongin’s body is so warm and he smells delightful, a mix of warm spice and desire. He keeps kissing Sehun, from his lips to his neck and his shoulder blade. He kisses his nose, his forehead, his hand, then he swallows Sehun’s gasp, diving deeper, the soft strokes of his tongue becoming firmer. “Jongin.”
“Yes?”
“Do...something,” Sehun urges. Dignity be damned, he’s hard and every touch from his ex leaves him on fire. His body wants Jongin, and he can’t do anything to stop it.
He wraps his arms around Jongin’s back and hides his flushing face into the crook of his neck when Jongin slides a hand down to press against his bulge. “Yes,” he says through gritted teeth. “Go on.”
“Can I eat you out?” Jongin asks casually as if he’s suggesting what movie to watch. It almost makes no sense until Sehun pulls back and sees Jongin’s hooded eyes staring at him. Then it makes perfect sense.
“Alright,” Sehun tries to sound nonchalant. He reaches for the waistband of his shorts, but Jongin is faster. “Hey, I can do it!”
“I know.” Jongin’s warm lips ghost over the inside of his thigh. He nips at the sensitive flesh. “I just want to take care of you. Flip over.”
“That’d leave a bruise,” Sehun groans as he turns to rest his face on a pillow with his bare ass up in the air.
“It’s not like anyone will see it,” Jongin says, giving Sehun’s ass a firm squeeze. “You better not let anyone else see it.” He whispers against Sehun’s ass cheeks before spreading them open.
Jongin’s taking his time. He begins with slow, delicious swirls of tongue around Sehun’s balls then up the perineum. He runs a teasing finger around the rim of Sehun’s pink, anticipating hole, then licks at it with the flat of his tongue. Sehun clenches, hips jerking up as he gasps into the pillow.
“You okay?”
More than fucking okay, Sehun thinks. Jongin is good with his tongue, and his hands, which he uses to fondle Sehun’s balls or jiggle Sehun’s ass. Everything is hot, hot, hot, and suddenly Jongin plunges in, tongue diving past the ring and Sehun arches back, his cock twitches and swells against his stomach.
Jongin replies with a hum and continues to tongue him open, calloused hands making his ass cheeks red, leaving marks on milky skin, but it doesn’t matter, not when the pleasure is overwhelming and mind-blowing. Sehun has a hard time keeping his legs from crumbling as he shakily sneaks a hand under his body to touch his cock, desperately trying to match the rhythm of Jongin’s tongue stroking and savoring the inner of his walls.
He moans, the sound embarrassingly loud in his own ears, and he probably looks like a mess, writhing and pushing his flushed hole to Jongin’s face while fisting his cock. It’s slick and dirty, Jongin’s tongue fucking Sehun’s rim in and out with rigorous passion and his saliva dripping down the cleft of Sehun’s ass.
Jongin pulls off with a grin, looks at Sehun’s fluttering hole, shiny and pink and pretty, then at Sehun, whose cries are muffled by the pillow as he strokes his own cock. Jongin can taste Sehun on this tongue, raw and filthy but so familiar, so intimate. He presses his lips to the fluttering entrance and swallows down a laugh when Sehun frantically thrusts his ass back. Dipping his tongue inside again, he blindly reaches up until he finds Sehun’s hand. The keening sound Sehun makes when Jongin’s hand covers both his hand and his cock sends a wave of arousal down straight to Jongin’s cock. Jongin swipes his tongue around while jerking Sehun off. It doesn’t take long, he can tell Sehun’s already at his limit, eyes clenched shut and incoherent whimpers leaving his lips as Jongin eats him out like a starving man. Jongin swirls his tongue roughly against a particular spot inside and Sehun comes, white strings pulsing out from his throbbing cock, covering both of their hands in warm, sticky liquid.
Jongin pulls out his tongue and Sehun collapses onto the bed. “F-fuck.”
“You smell so good,” Jongin wipes his hand on the jacquard weave bed sheet and runs his lips down moist skin. “How was it?”
“It’s a rim job, not your winter collection,” Sehun exhales. “Stop asking for a review.”
“Sometimes I hate your pretty mouth,” Jongin says. He gives Sehun a lazy kiss on the lips. “I’m going to clean you up, okay?”
Jongin is shirtless, broad shoulders and toned muscles, sweat glistening on his skin like diamond dust. In the glow of the lamp light he glances down at him, and Sehun throws the last bit of self-control into an imaginary shredder. “No,” he shakes his head. “Fuck me.”
“Yeah, I’ll get you something from the fridge—” Jongin stops when he realizes Sehun didn’t ask him to make some tea, but to put his cock in his ass. “Wait, are you serious? But you just—”
“I’m sure you know how to make me hard again,” says Sehun. Jongin always knew back then. He knew where to kiss, where to tease, knew the right amount of pressure that would wreck Sehun entirely, knew what Sehun wanted just by looking into Sehun’s eyes. And he just made Sehun come with a rim job, so he probably remembers.
Jongin’s eyes darken with something primal. He tugs off his pants and underwear, peels off Sehun’s shirt and gets them naked within seconds. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers between long, deep kisses that consume Sehun’s senses. “So pretty.”
Sehun knows he’s pretty. Everyone gushes about him, but it’s nothing compared to the compliment that comes from Jongin, spoken with layers of emotions, spoken when his mouth is on Sehun’s skin, sucking on his neck until it blooms into a bruise. Want floods Sehun’s mind, this kind of remarkable, phenomenal want that makes Sehun tremble. His muscles contract almost violently as Jongin moves to his nipples, scraping one taut nub with blunt fingernail while licking at the other.
“Fuck, Jongin, please.” Sehun doesn't care that he's begging his ex, that he may regret his uncharacteristic action later. The tip of Jongin’s tongue circles around his nipple and Sehun pulls at Jongin’s hair, groaning at the scratchy ticking feeling in his gut that intensifies with each swirl of those plump, succulent lips.
“You like that?” Jongin grins, positioning himself between Sehun’s supple thighs, leaning down to hold Sehun’s face in his hands and kisses him.
“Mmmh,” Sehun purrs. “Need you.”
Jongin releases a low growl into Sehun’s mouth, his hands running through soft, luscious locks of long hair as he catches Sehun’s red, swollen bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling deliciously until Sehun finds himself getting hard again.
The first finger feels strange. It doesn’t hurt; Sehun’s still loose from Jongin’s tongue, but something rushes through Sehun’s veins when Jongin’s finger slides in. The twinkling brown of Jongin’s eyes illuminated by the soft glow of his bear lamp, his sharp jaw digging into the tender flesh of Sehun’s belly, the sweet nothing he whispers to Sehun’s bare skin, everything reminds Sehun of the cramped dorm room seven years ago where it all started, and how Sehun didn’t think he’d ever be here again, lying on Jongin’s bed, enveloped by Jongin’s scent, his walls clamping around Jongin’s finger, base and needy. He’s already so wet.
“Jongin,” he whimpers, another gush of precome pooling around his cock. “Jongin.”
“I’m here,” Jongin brushes his lips against the C-section scar. I’m here. It’s how Jongin answered his calls in the years they spent together. Not a “Hello”, not a “What’s up?”, always a simple, gentle “I’m here”. Even when they fought, Jongin still picked up Sehun’s call with “I’m here”, and Sehun forgot what made him mad in the first place. Jongin would joke it’s because he’s so likeable, then Sehun would pretend to punch him.
They’ve made so many memories together.
“Sehunnie? Does it hurt?”
“No,” Sehun shakes his head. “Give me more.”
“Your wish is my command,” Jongin adds a second finger, sliding them in, out and around Sehun’s sweet spot, but purposely ignoring pressing into the spot. Sehun is wiggling, trying to not come straight away and ends up getting closer to the tips of Jongin’s fingers.
“Jongin, fuck, please...please, Jongin-ah,” he cries out, now adjusting to three of Jongin’s fingers inside him, thick digits curling deep, passing a bundle of nerves and finally aiming for his spot, making him see stars.
“So pretty,” Jongin hisses through clenched teeth as he stretches Sehun wide open. “You’re gorgeous, Sehunnie.”
Sehun throws one long, smooth leg over Jongin’s shoulder and Jongin immediately gets the hint, shuffling closer and gently massaging his hip with his free hand. He nibs at the inner of Sehun’s quivering thigh while crooks his fingers gracefully so they hit his spot over and over again, until the tickling sensation coursing through Sehun’s veins becomes an electrical current.
“Hurry up,” Sehun huffs out, wincing at how ragged he sounds. His face is flushing red and so is his cock. “Get inside me.”
Jongin pulls out his fingers and scrambles for his nightstand for the lube and condom, almost tripping over Sehun’s thigh. “Is that how you walk the runway,” Sehun jokes, lazily pumping his cock as he watches Jongin struggle with his long limbs and with tearing the condom package.
“It’s been a while.” Once Jongin rolls the condom over the tip of his throbbing cock, he looks down at Sehun with dark, lust-filled eyes, and something else that Sehun doesn’t dare to name before their lips collide. Sehun licks into Jongin’s mouth, nails digging into muscular arms, chasing this tiny flicker of hope that ‘it’s been a while’ could mean ‘it’s always been you’.
“I miss you,” Jongin presses his lips to the curl of Sehun’s ear. “Miss you so much, beautiful.”
Sehun is one second away from comparing himself to that logger's leap at Thorpe Park, up up up and intense when Jongin slides forward into him. Sehun wraps his legs around Jongin’s hips like a muscle memory, pulling him closer until his hips meet the bare flesh of Sehun’s ass. “You’re taking me so well,” Jongin pants. “Pretty.”
The pace quickens and he suddenly bends down to suck at Sehun’s nipple. A loud yelp escapes Sehun’s lips, which Jongin swallows eagerly. He maintains a good rhythm of pulling out before thrusting back in, plunging into the achingly familiar heat, letting Sehun yank at his hair as the latter keens, erratic moans lost in the sound of skin slapping against skin. Sehun looks beautifully wrecked, fingers twisting in bed sheets, toes curling, soft hair sprawling out, eyes clouded with desire, cheeks red and the sound slipping out of his lips is raw and filthy. Jongin’s no better, his thighs tense, tense, tense as he slams forward, dropping his head onto Sehun’s shoulder and nuzzling Sehun’s neck.
Everything is so hot, then Sehun shifts slightly to card his slender fingers through Jongin’s damp hair. The touch is simple, there’s no word since Sehun can only either whimper or cry out Jongin’s name with the way Jongin pushes deep into him, but Jongin feels a wetness in his eyes because between them it’s never about words. Four years and Sehun is still ever so gentle, even when Jongin is splitting him open and his cock is leaking, his thighs around Jongin’s hips are shaking. The gentleness that lingers on Jongin’s mind like smoke, even when they’re thousands of miles away.
“Jongin,” Sehun’s breath is burning and Jongin rams in, pressing against Sehun’s sweet spot, his hips snapping hard and fast as Sehun clenches impossibly tighter, bringing Jongin into an all-encompassing avalanche and he releases hot, thick spurts into the condom.
For a moment, he lays there, sweaty face pressed against Sehun’s neck, waiting for the deliciously tingly warm wave to calm down.
“You okay?”
“So good,” Jongin hums.
“Mmmh,” Sehun breathes out. “Can you...continue? I think I’m close.”
Jongin glances down to see Sehun’s cock twitching and bouncing against his stomach, a drop of precum dripping down to his belly button. “Sorry,” Jongin mouths against Sehun’s hairline. “Let me.”
Before Sehun could answer, Jongin detaches himself from Sehun’s side and kneels between Sehun’s legs, lapping a stripe up and down his cock. He sucks the crown into the wetness of his mouth, swirling his tongue around the slit and internally beams when Sehun screams.
“Oh, oh, fuck, Jongin,” Sehun pants, thrusting up into Jongin’s throat, who eagerly takes it as deep as he can. He speeds up his pace, feeling Sehun’s cock pulsating and his legs squeezing tighter and tighter and tighter around Jongin’s neck, then his entire body shudders and goes slack as he comes in Jongin’s mouth.
“Damn,” Sehun mutters, looking like he just jumped headfirst into a pool of pleasure. “That’s really unexpected.”
“Did it for you, baby.” The pet name rolls off Jongin’s tongue like a habit. He freezes, waiting for Sehun to tell him to shut up, but Sehun just turns away, cheeks turning a darker shade of red as he wraps himself in absolute euphoria.
“Kiss me,” he commands a few seconds later. “Then clean us up.” He kicks the cum-stained blanket to the floor. “This is gross.”
“Hey, that’s my favorite blanket!” Jongin pretends to look annoyed. “Where should I kiss you first?”
❀
“Baby,” Jongin murmurs into his hair. “How are you feeling?”
“Fucking fantastic,” Sehun whispers into Jongin’s bare chest. How could his ex smell so good when he was literally bathing in his own sweat a moment ago? “Feel like I won’t be able to walk in a straight line tomorrow.”
“Is that like, literally or figuratively?”
Jongin is annoying. “Whatever. You owe me breakfast tomorrow.”
“I’ll buy you breakfast every morning.” He runs a hand through Sehun’s hair. “Lunch. Dinner. Snacks. Anything you want.”
“You’re so goddamn cheesy,” Sehun laughs. “I don’t think I want to have any type of conversation now, if that’s what you’re hinting at.” He really just wants to sleep.
“I’m serious,” Jongin insists. “We don’t have to talk now, but we should. I can make it short, if you want?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Leave Junmyeon.”
His hearing must have been affected after Jongin railed him all the way to Sunday, because what does Junmyeon have to do with...anything? “What?”
“You should leave Junmyeon,” Jongin says. “It’s not my place to judge, but he’s never around. It’s unfair for you and Chunghee.”
Of course Junmyeon isn’t around here. Junmyeon lives in a mansion and his sofa alone probably costs more than Sehun’s entire apartment. “How is it unfair?” Something isn’t right. “Wait, how did you know Junmyeon? You didn’t even talk to him in college.”
“He doesn’t bother to visit Chunghee!” Jongin hisses. It sounds sexy, and if Sehun isn’t too confused, he’d melt. “What kind of father is that?”
“He runs a conglomerate. Lunch or dinner with him must be scheduled at least two weeks in advance. He—” Sehun stops, aghast. “Are you saying Junmyeon is Chunghee’s papa???”
“He isn’t?”
Sehun pulls away. Jongin’s looking at him, eyes as wide as saucers. “Of course he fucking isn’t!” Jesus Christ, Junmyeon? Sehun has overestimated his ex when he said Jongin had one brain cell. He has none. “He’s Minseok’s boyfriend! He plans to propose to Minseok on Christmas.”
For a moment, Jongin looks stunned. Then his eyes turn into crescent moons as his stunned expression morphs into the warmest, happiest smile Sehun’s seen him smile in weeks, or even years, because Sehun has a space in his memory to store Jongin’s different smiles, and this smile is as bright as The Confession Smile or The First Gucci Show Smile. Sehun’s heart does a fluttering dance in his chest, and although Jongin is fucking dumb and loves to arrive at conclusions by himself, when he looks happy like this, Sehun thinks he can move mountains to see his ex’s smile.
“Did Chunghee’s papa really leave when you were pregnant?”
“Yeah,” Sehun slurs. His eyes feel heavy but Jongin keeps blabbering. It’s useless to stop him, especially when he’s in a good mood, so Sehun opts for ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ answer to entertain Jongin until he runs out of questions and shuts up.
“Was it hard? The pregnancy?”
“Not really. Lots of people took care of me. I was spoiled.”
Jongin kisses him on the forehead. “You’re too good. Everyone wants to spoil you.” Another kiss, soft and tender and achingly sweet. “I can’t believe he left you. If I ever meet that bastard I’d punch him for you.”
Hold on, what?
Sehun shifts so he’s facing Jongin. “You…you really don’t know?”
“No,” Jongin’s voice slurs with sleep. “You never told me. How could I know?”
Sehun can feel his blood boiling and a vein from his neck popping out. Jongin isn’t playing pretend; the idiot has no fucking idea he is the papa in question. How did he not realize? Chunghee doesn’t only look like him, the kid also talks in pouts and is not afraid of scary movies and not to mention the way he holds his pen. Jongin is so oblivious. Sehun has 99 problems and they can all be solved if Jongin uses his brain while looking into the mirror.
Sehun is so mad he wants to slap his ex. But he can’t do that because Jongin is still sick and Sehun never hurts a sick person. He closes his eyes and does a breathing exercise to calm down. Breathe in. Breathe out.
Eventually, the urge to punch Jongin simmers down to a hint of irritation. That’s good. Sehun takes a deep breath, opens his eyes, and finds Jongin snoring softly, one arm hanging loosely around Sehun’s hip.
In retrospect, Sehun should’ve just punched him.
❀
“He doesn’t know,” Chanyeol announces.
“He still doesn’t know?” Baekhyun gasps.
“He still doesn’t know,” Sehun confirms. “I was about to tell him last week when we...talked...but he fell asleep and since then I haven’t found a good time to bring it up?”
“What did you guys even talk about if you didn’t talk about the most important thing?”
“Chanyeol, honey, they probably just fucked,” Baekhyun says mildly. Sehun blushes. “See? I’m always right.”
“That you are, babe,” Chanyeol bends down to kiss Baekhyun’s cheek before going back to stirring something on the stove. “I thought he was joking when he asked me who Chunghee’s papa was. So I played along. I didn’t realize he really had no idea. Had I known I’d have told him.”
“Not your fault, my love. It’s Jongin we’re talking about.” Baekhyun says. “Besides, Sehunnie, when you told us to not tell Jongin because you wanted to tell him yourself, I didn’t expect you’d need 3 years and counting to prepare.”
“How is it my fault now?” Sehun whines. “I can’t just call him and be like, ‘Hey how are you doing? By the way, we have a son!’ You know how much Jongin loves kids and how much he loathes being irresponsible. He said he wanted to punch ‘that bastard’. If he knows the bastard is actually him, he’ll hate me for the rest of his life. Or he’ll kill me.”
“He won’t do that,” Baekhyun rolls his eyes.
“You’ve never seen Angry Jongin.” The mention of Angry Jongin sends shivers down Sehun’s spine, because Angry Jongin is simultaneously scary and hot.
“The only time he got angry was because of you,” Chanyeol reminds him. “I haven’t seen him display more than a single emotion since you guys broke up. Only you can have that effect on him.”
It goes both ways. After Jongin left, no one could make Sehun feel lively anymore. At first, he blamed it on the hormone changes. Then came Chunghee’s first birthday, second, third — until one day Sehun, under the influence of ten vodka shots, had to admit the truth that his ex had set the standards too high. It’s not easy to find someone on par with Jongin, so Sehun decides to stop looking. He has Chunghee to take care of, has The Skin Kitchen to pour his heart and mind into. Love should come after his two babies.
But when Jongin dived down on his cock that night and called him baby, Sehun’d lost it. It wasn’t just his cum but his emotions all poured out of him. Jongin made him feel satisfied, safe and whole. It was at that moment of burst and rush through his body that he realized he might have never fallen out of love. They were young, they were going through a rough patch, but they didn’t fall out of love. At least, Sehun didn’t. If he could turn back time, he’d tell the 23-year-old Sehun to not mistake real love for fireworks. Fireworks can’t happen all the time — just like how life has its ups and downs, how people have good days and bad days. Real love isn’t about the spark, it’s about the constant. Real love is calm, quiet, and can get boring sometimes.
The 27-year-old Sehun has learned about it the hard way.
“You should tell him,” Baekhyun’s voice jerks him out of his trance. “I don’t have any better advice than that. Tell him, explain why you did what you did back then, then have make-up sex and make more beautiful babies.”
“What if he doesn’t want to see me again?”
To say things have been good after they fucked would be an understatement. Things have been amazing, awesome, ethereal. They don’t have the talk yet, because Sehun always chickens out at the last minute, but they’ve been going strong.
Chunghee is beyond happy. He even agrees to take piano lessons, although Sehun distinctively remembers that his son used to say he’d “run away from home to find my real daddy because my real daddy wouldn’t torture me with piano lessons!”. Jongin’s presence is a positive influence in Chunghee’s life. For the kid, Jongin’s clumsiness and childlike antics are endearing. Jongin can spend hours mimicking the entire animal kingdom to teach Chunghee about different species. He’s willing to get his designer jeans dirty serving ice cream or making cake from play-doh with Chunghee, play hide-and-seek at seven in the morning, or immediately act out a scene from Power Rangers (Sehun has no idea how Jongin and Chunghee only need one look to know which scene the other is talking about). The kid is still blushing furiously if Jongin’s face is too close, if he has his hair slicked back, if he winks, or if he dresses to impress, which he does most of the time except when play-doh or baking is involved.
Sehun can’t judge his son now because he’s the same. The sex is immensely satisfying, so they keep going. After putting Chunghee to bed, Jongin’d abruptly hug Sehun from behind, kiss him, touch him until he has to hold onto Jongin for support, and as soon as Jongin pushes into him, bruising his skin with kisses and bites, they both forget about the kitchen or the living room that needs to be cleaned up. Farewell, productivity.
“If he doesn’t want to see you again, he’d stop coming over after he knew you were his neighbor,” Chanyeol does a dramatic eye roll. “But he keeps showing up. I think you know Jongin way better than me to understand what that means.”
“He’s a freaking gold rush,” Baekhyun says. “You’re also one, sweetie, but Jongin’s line of work is more...dramatic.” Well, that’s an understatement. “He could’ve had anyone, but he didn’t. He’s met people in his league. There’s this young professor at Princeton. Damn fine, I tell you. If I didn’t accidentally get attached to Chanyeol’s dick, I’d marry that professor in a heartbeat. But Jongin blocked his number, and all he did was showing interest in Jongin and asking for one dinner date. Fucker.”
“Hey,” Chanyeol sounds offended. “You only love me for my dick?”
“Your personality is not too bad,” Baekhyun waves him off. “The thing is: It’s been four years. He and you both met many people, but no one could make you feel the same. So for the love of God, just come back to each other. Make a soccer team and let Chunghee come live with us when he enters middle school.”
“Chunghee is not going anywhere!” Sehun protests. “And make your own babies with Chanyeol!”
“Oh I will,” Baekhyun winks. “But seriously, tell him. It’s not as hard as you think. You guys have been through enough to know what matters. We’re not in high school anymore, Sehunnie.”
❀
Back in high school, Sehun’d thought about wild love, with fireworks, adrenaline rushes, road trips on the highway, airplane ticket to Beijing or Los Angeles, all the things portrayed in movies and novels.
Now he’s entering his thirties. He’s much less of an emotional thrill seeker. His happiness is not a night going all out clubbing, not awards and recognitions, but a laugh from his son as they make orange juice, a hug when he comes home, a peaceful Sunday night reading a book while his son watches a cartoon and casually asks him about a million random things.
His happiness is hearing the familiar knock on his door, Chunghee rushing to put on his shoes and jumping into Jongin’s open arms. They go for a walk, drive to a dog park where Sehun keeps freaking out when Chunghee approaches a big dog but Jongin patiently teaches the kid basic rules to befriend any dog, then they stop at a fried chicken restaurant, where Sehun becomes the only adult as he pretends he doesn’t know Jongin and Chunghee, who are having a big ketchup fight in excitement and end up with greasy fries crumbs all over their mouths.
Sehun comes home unusually late on a Thursday to find Jongin and Chunghee falling asleep on the couch. Chunghee looks tiny in Jongin’s embrace, they both lie on their sides, so it’s like watching Jongin and mini Jongin sleep. Even the way they curl up is alike.
Then Sehun goes into the kitchen and finds a terrible-looking plate of spaghetti on the dining table. Next to it is a note.
Daddy, I made this for you!!!
Sehunnie, the spaghetti may not look the best, but I and Chunghee made it, so I can assure you it’s edible. Food safety guaranteed. There’s lemonade in the fridge. Wake me up when you get back!
Sehun blinks rapidly to chase away the moist building up on his eyelashes. He proceeds to eat all the spaghetti and drink a whole cup of sweet, sweet lemonade. Then he brings his blanket and pillow to the living room and watches his ex and Chunghee murmur something about dinosaurs and saving the world in their sleep. The last thought on his mind before he dozes off is that, yes, he will tell Jongin everything.
Because this is what home feels like, and Sehun doesn’t want to lose it.
❀
Sehun takes off his apron and proudly looks at the pot of kimchi stew and the pan of soy sauce fried chicken. There’s a vase of teddy bear sunflowers on the kitchen island. He glances at his watch. It’s 5.30 PM. Jisoo had sent Sehun a text saying that she’d take Chunghee back a bit later than planned, around 6.30 PM, since her boyfriend was running overtime with his meeting and couldn’t bring the car back yet. Sehun is actually glad, because it means he can have a conversation with Jongin before their dinner.
He’s feeling nervous. He'd taken half a day off to prepare the food and set up the flowers. He has a speech prepared in his head, nothing fancy, just the truth like what Jongin deserves. He thinks of many scenarios, and while he’s unsure how Jongin would react, he doesn’t want to keep hiding. He doesn’t regret breaking up; it was something bound to happen at that time, considering how the two of them were too ambitious. But he regrets not letting Jongin know about Chunghee, and today he’s going to fix it.
He really, really hopes he can fix it.
The doorbell rings and Sehun quickly fixes his hair, taking a deep breath and patting himself on the back. Jongin walks in with a binding smile, he looks so tall and handsome in beige pants and a blue striped shirt with two buttons undone. He’s carrying what looks like….a cake?
“Sehunnie!” Jongin beams at him. “Is Chunghee going to be late?”
“Yeah, Jisoo needs to get the car from her boyfriend but he's still in a meeting. She said she'd bring Chunghee back in an hour."
“Ah, I hope he gets out soon. A meeting on Friday afternoon is such a nightmare. Poor dude.” Jongin is chattier than usual. He leans down to take a closer look at the fried chicken. “This smells fucking good. I can’t wait to eat it.”
Sehun lets Jongin pull him in for a kiss. “Did something happen?”
“Oh yeah. But it’s good news!” Jongin grins. He places the cake box down onto the island. “I bought a cake to celebrate.”
“So you finalize the designs with MCM team.”
“I’m almost there. Still have to argue with their head designer for a few more rounds, but our timeline is still in motion,” Jongin laughs. Now that’s weird. Jongin usually grimaces at the mention of MCM’s head designer whenever they have a conflict.
Sehun doesn’t feel good about this. He doesn’t know why. Didn’t Jongin say it was good news? “We’ve secured our final deal to launch Studio 94 in Shanghai!”
Sehun’s mind draws a blank. “What?”
“We’ve been working on this milestone to bring Studio 94 to the Chinese market, even before we went back to South Korea.” Jongin’s smile grows brighter, wider, but what rings through Sehun’s head is Shanghai, Shanghai, Shanghai. His mouth goes dry. Shanghai sounds so far away. Shanghai sounds like Paris. Fucking Paris.
“It was such a pain because the government didn’t go easy on us, but we finally received the green light this morning,” Jongin continues, unaware of the storm clouding Sehun’s heart. “They put me and Taeyong in touch with a guy in the MOFCOM. We just need to finish paperwork and we can go to Shanghai!”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Jongin’s smile dims as he recognizes the hoarseness of Sehun’s voice. Worry immediately etches onto his face, but Sehun doesn’t feel warm inside. He feels cold, like someone just dumps a bucket of ice water over him. “Sehun, what’s wrong?”
“You didn’t utter a word about you planning to go to Shanghai.” Sehun’s jaw tenses as he grounds his teeth. “And now you decide to just casually walk in and tell me?”
Jongin looks confused. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it was relevant. There was a lot going on, mostly administrative procedures and politics. You don’t even like these topics.”
“I don’t need you to tell me what I like and don’t like!” Sehun slams his fist down onto the dining table. The glasses wobble precariously. “When do you plan on telling me? At your gate before your flight?”
“Sehun, please calm down. I don’t understand why you’re mad.”
Anger and bitterness curl hot and unstoppable in Sehun’s gut. His head spins. All this time, Jongin knows he’ll be going to Shanghai one day, yet he doesn’t think Sehun deserves to at least hear about it. Who does he think he is to just walk through the door and give Sehun hope?
Sehun’s chest is growing so tight it becomes hard to breathe. Tears sting at the corner of his eyes. He tries to hold it back. “I’m just a stranger to you, right?” He rasps out. “It’s like the Paris job all over again. You never talk to me about any of your plans.”
“Oh Sehun, we’re not talking about Paris,” Jongin takes a step back, his voice an octave higher. “The Paris job is different. You were the one who asked for a break-up. I wanted to take you with me. Or stay. I would’ve stayed, if you asked me. But you didn’t. I don’t know why you’re lashing out at me right now, but don’t you dare bring the Paris job into this. I begged you for a chance. You said no. I could only think that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”
That isn’t entirely true. Sehun was tired of their relationship, but Jongin was still his home. And Chunghee, who was as small as a bean growing inside his belly. He had thought about giving them a second chance, but Jongin went and announced the Paris job offer. They were sitting across from each other in a cafe, yet Sehun felt like they were already ten thousand miles apart.
“It’s not true.” Sehun knows he made a mistake, but shouldn’t they leave it behind and move on? They’ve been doing so well, this new routine of spending time and being domestic together, no pressure, just pure bliss. Sehun wants to be happy with Jongin. “Would you be happy if you stayed?”
“Are you saying you didn’t trust me?” Hurt crosses Jongin’s face. No, it’s not what Sehun means. He feels itchy as though his skin is being pricked by a hundred needles. His throat is tight, and everything hurts. It hurt back then. It hurts now. “For the record, I did ask you if you wanted to—”
“Would you be happy if I asked you to sacrifice your dream for mine? Paris is not just your dream, Jongin. It’s your purpose in life!” Jongin wrote it in his diary. Sehun accidentally came across the notebook when they were packing to move out of the dorm. “You worked so hard to get that offer. You said this and that but would you be truly happy if I made you stay and then you kept posing for local brands and coming home to me and you struggling with milk feeding and diapers and baby poop and lack of sleep? When you could've achieved everything in Paris? Fucking tell me, Kim Jongin, would you be happy?”
It’s too late. Sehun claps his hands over his mouth, the lump in his throat contrasts into a tight ball as he watches Jongin’s eyes widen in shock. His ex grabs onto the kitchen island to steady himself, veins bulging out of his arms and he chokes on a sob. “What are you talking about?”
The raw pain in Jongin’s voice makes Sehun want to cry. Jongin is trembling. Sehun takes a step forward, but Jongin stops him. “Don’t.”
“Jongin, I—I’m sorry.”
Jongin turns away. He clenches his fists so hard that his nails cut into his skin, drawing blood. Sehun watches helplessly as Jongin’s shoulders shake, a gut-wrenching sob tears through his throat. It feels like eternity before Jongin turns around to face him again, staring at him with red, swollen eyes and tears still streaming down his cheeks, but he manages to keep his breathing even. “So Chunghee is my son. We have a son together."
"Jongin, please listen to me—"
"But you never wanted me to be part of your life." Jongin's words shatter into stuttering sounds. "You didn’t give me a chance to see my son grow up. You didn’t even tell me about him.”
“I didn’t want to be a burden!” Sehun’s tears spill over and flow down his face like a broken dam.
“It’s not your place to decide it for me!” Jongin yells, sparkling brown eyes bleeding with pain. “I’d have given you everything if you asked me to. Even if we didn’t have a baby, I’d give up the offer for you.”
“It’s easier for you to say it now.”
“No, Sehun, it’s not about the timing,” Jongin presses a palm against his eyelids, his voice cracking. “I’d do it because I loved you. I still loved you when we broke up. But apparently it’s just me.”
“Jongin,” Sehun pleads in a suffocated whisper. “Please. I’m sorry. I know I should’ve told you—”
“I can’t do this,” Jongin cuts him off. His lips quiver when he glances at Sehun. “My first year in Paris everything reminded me of you. They sent me to shows around Europe and I bought a souvenir for you in every city I went to. But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t important enough.”
“That’s not it.”
“Really?” Jongin lets out a humorless laugh. “If we weren’t neighbors, I’d never know about the existence of my own son. It’s you and me. It’s never us.”
Leaving Sehun standing there with hopelessness creeping out of his eyes, Jongin walks out and slams the door shut.
Sehun is a sobbing mess by the time Jisoo and Chunghee arrive. All he could mutter is a weak excuse of “Daddy just watches a very sad movie while waiting for you”. Chunghee stands on his tiptoes to hug Sehun.
“Don’t be sad, Daddy.” His chubby fingers clumsily pet Sehun's hair and Sehun swallows back a whimper because this is how Jongin hugs. Sehun hugs with his arms on the other person’s back. Mark hugs with his hands circling their waist. Jisoo hugs with her cheek against their shoulder. But Jongin — Jongin hugs while running his hand through their hair, providing a sense of safety and comfort.
“You can watch Super Samurai with me.” Chunghee hugs him tighter. “Jongin and I will watch it next week but we can change!”
Jongin, who stomps out of the apartment after saying “It’s never us”. The redness in his eyes is hauntingly painful and damn it, Sehun can’t stop crying. He sends a pleading sob Jisoo’s way, mouthing “Jongin” and she gets it.
“Jongin is not coming today.” She sits down on the floor and ruffles Chunghee’s hair. “His friend is sick. He has to take care of his friend. Chunghee understands that, right?”
“When will Jongin come back?”
“As soon as his friend gets better, sweetheart. Look, he bought you a cake,” Jisoo holds out the box of strawberry cake from Chunghee’s favorite bakery. “We will have dinner and eat cake while watching Super Samurai, hmm?”
Chunghee seems to mull her words over, then shakes his head. “I don’t want to eat cake today. I want to eat with Jongin. Daddy, is that okay?”
The tearful “Okay” that comes out of Sehun’s sore throat is the worst lie he’s ever told.
❀
Sehun tastes anxious melon tea on his tongue as flashing sheets of cold droplets tap the Ferrari window. The rain floats in gentle waves, filling the street with deep puddles and muddy water. Sehun stops at a red light. He pulls out his phone; Jongin hasn’t seen any of his texts. It’s been three days since their fight. Chunghee went back with Jisoo that night and has been staying with her since then after Sehun made up an excuse of a last-minute business trip. The truth is, he doesn’t want to break down in front of Chunghee. He needs to sort this out. Regardless of whether Jongin wants to see him again or not, he wants to let Chunghee know about his papa.
He’s still trying to figure out a way without breaking into a disheveled heap of tears when he gets a frantic call from Mark.
“Mark, Chunghee isn’t even home. So whatever is broken in that building now, go and fix it—”
“Nothing is broken today because the power has been out since the morning,” Mark stammers. “But hyung, forget about that cursed building. Do you know Jongin hyung is flying to Shanghai tonight?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Jongin hyung didn’t want to tell you,” Mark lowers his voice. “Or me. Or anyone, really. But Taeyong went to his office to pick up a contract and found his ticket. His flight departs at midnight.”
It was also raining the day Jongin flew to Paris.
Sehun speeds up. He’ll get a ticket for running a red light, and it’ll ruin his perfect driving record, but he doesn’t care. He’s stifled with nervousness as he gets into the elevator, not paying attention to his uncomfortable wet shirt.
“Why are you here?”
Jongin has this guarded, questioning look in his eyes, as though he’s wondering why Sehun is standing in front of his door while he doesn’t bother to reply to Sehun’s texts. But Sehun has no time for an argument. He pushes Jongin aside and makes a dash for the master bedroom.
Mark didn’t lie. In the middle of Jongin’s bed is his suitcase, surrounded by different articles of clothing in various colors, shampoo, shower gel, toothbrush, and a first aid kit. The corner desk is empty; his iMac is no longer there and dread surges up in Sehun’s throat. Jongin is leaving again, and this may be the last chance Sehun could ever have—
His last chance with Jongin. His last chance for them.
“Sehun, what—”
Jongin gasps as Sehun pushes him until they fall onto the floor. Kneeling between Jongin’s legs and ignited by hopeless despair, Sehun bends down to kiss him. He wraps his arms around Jongin and kisses him like he’s never kissed anyone before Jongin, like he doesn’t want to kiss anyone besides Jongin. He cups the nape of Jongin’s neck and pulls him closer until their noses touch, licking his way into Jongin’s mouth and pressing until Jongin’s hands fly up to his sides and hold him there.
“Sehun,” Jongin says, his bottom lip raw from Sehun’s bite.
“Shut up and listen to me, Kim Jongin,” Sehun growls and keeps a firm hand on Jongin’s chest in case his ex wants to run away. He’s not going to let it happen. “I’m sorry for what happened. I’m sorry for the other day, and for four years ago. It’s not because you weren’t important to me. In fact, you’re so important that I only want the best things for you.”
He hopes Jongin can take a hint from his use of the present tense. “We were at a rough patch when I found out I was pregnant with Chunghee. I’d wanted to tell you, but I didn’t even trust myself. I didn’t trust myself that I could fall back in love with you. It was my biggest regret, because I never fell out of love.”
Jongin doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t struggle to get out of Sehun’s hold either, so Sehun takes a lungful of breath and tells Jongin everything: how he found out breaking up with Jongin was a rushed decision, how he regrets not telling Jongin about Chunghee, how he misses Jongin every day because Chunghee is a carbon copy of him, how he hates Christmas because Jongin isn’t there to convince him to build a stupid, overwhelmingly childish Christmas tree, how he realizes he’s still fucking in love with Jongin when he sees him again, how no one has ever made him feel the way Jongin does, and how he knows that’s exactly what love means. No fireworks, no angels singing from above, just Jongin buying Sehun bubble tea and playing with Chunghee so he could finish the quarterly report.
“Let’s go to Shanghai together,” Sehun says, ignoring the hot tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “Or anywhere you want, I’ll go with you. We’ll go with you. I can’t see you walk away again.”
A warm hand slowly comes up to rest on his reddened cheeks, wiping away the lone tear that just fell. “What about your career?”
“Fuck my career. It doesn’t matter. You are.” He leans into the touch. Jongin’s palm smells like puppy paws, and it feels so right. “But can you give me a month? I can reserve our tickets tonight, but I need to talk to Minseok and visit my parents and tell Chunghee you’re his papa—”
“Sehun.” He loves the way Jongin pronounces his name, soft and sweet and familiar. He loves the way Jongin looks at him, pupils dilated and lips shivering until he...laughs. His ex is laughing at his heartfelt confession. Sehun doesn’t know if he should feel relieved or punch the idiot.
“I’m flying to Shanghai today,” Jongin finally says, “but only for a week.”
Sehun blinks. “What?”
“Ten and Jungwoo are coming with me. We will meet with MOFCOM and other partners. Then I’ll let Ten and Jungwoo manage it. Our senior legal advisor and HR manager will be arriving next week. They’re in charge of setting up the team there.”
“But your room is empty?"
Jongin frowns. "You mean the iMac? It kept shutting down, so I sent it to Apple store this morning to check for damage."
"You’re really not...relocating?”
“It was in the original plan two years ago, but not anymore.” Jongin’s hand now curls around the nape of Sehun’s neck. “Since I have my own little family now.”
“Stop.” Sehun pushes at Jongin’s chest. “I don’t want to cry.”
Jongin pulls him in for a long, deep kiss. “I’m sorry too, for getting mad at you,” he murmurs against Sehun’s lips. “And for not recognizing my own son. How can I be so stupid? Chunghee looks just like me.” He mouths kisses down Sehun’s neck, then his hand splay across the back of Sehun’s head and just holds him there. “Hey, he has my best traits.”
“He can touch his nose with his tongue and he’s proud of it.”
“That’s my bestest trait,” declares Jongin. “Sehun-ah, I love you. I love you so much.”
“Oh my god, shut up,” Sehun chokes on a sob. “You’re an idiot.”
“We both are,” Jongin grins. “But I love you.” He chants it like a mantra. “Love you, love you, love you so much. I’ve never stopped loving you.”
The streams of tears flow down Sehun’s swollen face faster than his heartbeat, and he wants to say it back, I love you, I love you too, but his throat tightens and he remembers Jongin once said between them there would be no need for words, so he surges forward and silences Jongin with his lips, drowning in Jongin’s scent, letting Jongin touch him, mark him, own him any way he wishes.
“I love you,” Jongin says. “I love you so much.”
Sehun sinks deeper into the warm embrace and sucks on Jongin’s collarbone, leaving a mark so red it matches the color of his flushing cheeks, hoping that Jongin can hear the words he doesn’t speak.
I love you
I love you more than anything in this world
❀
It’s August again.
“Papa!” Chunghee bursts into their bedroom with Nini in his arms. Nini is wearing a ballerino dress that Luna gave Chunghee as a gift for his 4th birthday last week. “Can I bring my Avengers Lego set?”
“Buddy, we settled it yesterday,” Jongin says. “You can only bring Nini and the mobile police unit set.”
“But we will go to New York!” Chunghee pouts. “Stark Tower! I want to bring my Avengers to Stark Tower! Please, Papa? Please, Daddy?”
Sehun puts up his hands innocently. “Honey, don’t look at me. I won the card game, therefore I have my own suitcase. You and Jongin decide on how to share the other suitcase. I’m out.”
“You cheated,” Jongin grumbles. He’s been spending the last thirty minutes deciding on which leather jacket he should bring. There’s only space for one since Chunghee also wants to bring his Iron Man costume.
“Daddy cheated,” Chunghee mimics Jongin. He seems to realize it’s futile to bargain for another Lego set in their luggage, so he just sits down next to Jongin and watches his papa struggle with what outfits to bring for their trip to the U.S to attend Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s wedding. “Papa, do I really have to wear a suit?”
“Of course,” Jongin beams. “We have matching suits! We’re going to wear it to the wedding.”
“I don’t like it. It’s hot.”
“No, it’s hot,” Jongin clicks his tongue. “Also, you can’t get into Stark Tower without a suit. It’s a dress code.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s New York,” Jongin hums, happy that Chunghee is seriously mulling over his words. “What do you tell your friend when you get a new car in New York?”
“Check out my new whip, man!”
“Jongin,” Sehun sighs. “Stop teaching him weird things.”
“Papa says we can go get chicken pizza in New York,” Chunghee turns to Sehun. “They’re super lit!”
“Good gracious,” Sehun pinches at his nose. “You two are giving me headaches.”
“Baby, do you want to visit San Francisco too?” Jongin asks. Chunghee tugs at his sleeve. “I’m the baby!”
“Both are my precious babies,” Jongin smooches his son’s cheek. “Why are you blushing?”
“Papa’s face is too close!”
“Whipped culture,” Sehun rolls his eyes. Jongin laughs. “Oh, yeah. San Francisco. We don’t need to go there. Just stick to our original plan. We should go to Canada to visit my aunt. Mark and Jisoo already sent over a ton of stuff for their parents.”
“Already in the agenda,” Jongin says. “Are you sure? We have three days in LA for the two bachelor parties. Our grooms can look after Chunghee and we can take a flight to San Francisco and visit Golden Gate Park and City Hall. May as well check out some locations before we go back there in March as the new Mary and Massimo.”
“Mary didn’t marry Massimo. She married Steve. Besides, why do Chanyeol and Baekhyun hold their bachelor parties in LA if they could do it in New York?”
“I know, but the point is City Hall. You want to have our pre-wedding photoshoot there, so I’m thinking of touring around the area first.” Jongin finally decides on the brown jacket. “Well, most of Baekhyun’s friends from the state hospital are still in LA. Chanyeol’s best friend too, that choreographer Mihawk who starts dancing at random times? I know Chanyeol’s gonna do a bar hop.”
“Isn’t he too old for that,” Sehun comments dryly. Jongin throws him a ‘Baby you play golf’ look, which Sehun promptly ignores. “Anyway, we can take a trip to San Francisco for sightseeing, but there’s no need to check out anything because we aren’t getting married in April.”
“WHAT?”
“Please stop yelling,” Sehun says. He bookmarks the Should You Let Your Kids Watch Horror Movie? article he’s been reading and puts down his phone. “I’m serious. I went to the hospital today and the doctor told me that in April I could barely walk, let alone plan a whole wedding.”
Jongin scrambles to his feet in panic. “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT—” Then his eyes drop to Sehun’s hand on his belly, and everything clicks. “Holy shit. Are you for real?”
“Papa, what does holy shit mean?”
In one swift motion, Jongin scoops up Chunghee and then the three of them tangled in bed, sending Sehun’s neatly folded clothes everywhere. Jongin tucks Chunghee to his side as he claims Sehun’s lips. “It means you’ll become a big brother!” He wraps his free arm around Sehun’s waist. “Sehun. Oh my god. Why didn’t you tell me? How many weeks? I should go buy vitamins and folic acid. Do we need a new bed? This one may hurt your back. Also—”
“Jesus Christ, just breathe,” he pats Jongin’s back soothingly. “I’m only four weeks. Don’t worry. We have a lot of time ahead.”
“I’m not going to miss it this time,” Jongin interlaces their fingers together. “I'm going to vlog everything. Should I get a tattoo with our family logo? Do we have a family logo? What are we going to name our baby?"
"Seriously, worry about which pair of shoes you'll bring first."
"I love you, you know that?” Jongin sniffles and presses his lips against Sehun’s cheek. “Hey buddy, come here and give Daddy a kiss!”
“Am I going to be a big brother?” Chunghee wonders.
“You definitely are,” Jongin grins. “Hey big brother, what do you say about shopping for your little sister when we visit New York? We can get her her own Avengers.”
“Can I get bagels too? Mark told me cream cheese bagels in New York are yummy.”
“They are,” Jongin nods. He pulls Sehun closer until Sehun’s back meets his chest. “Now can you go get Papa and Daddy some water from the fridge? And some Oreos too if you can reach the shelf.”
“I can!” Chunghee proudly announces before running out of the room. “Such an opportunist,” Sehun scoffs, but he’s already turning his head around to meet Jongin’s lips halfway.
“I love you too,” Sehun whispers, and Jongin smiles into the kiss.