Silence Isn't a Home

by CriticalTeacher

Summary:

If someone asked Jeongguk if he was happy he would smile and say, “Yes.”

He had a lot to be happy about. He had the family of his childhood dreams; a beautiful wife, a dog, and two wonderful little boys. He even had the perfect house, a little cottage style home complete with the white picket fence. Jeongguk was able to stay at home with his kids, doing whatever he wanted in the time that wasn’t occupied by his four year old and nine month old. His wife was the breadwinner, the personal assistant to the CEO of a technology company, and bringing in enough money that they had everything they needed as well as everything they wanted.

…he just wished his wife was around more.

But he was happy. He knew he could be happier—a lot happier, but it was fine.

He was fine.

Notes:

Guest comments are turned off due to issues I've been having. I'm really sorry to those who genuinely want to share their thoughts about the story.

Chapter 1

Notes:

I don't know what this is.

Early mornings used to bother him. The glory days of college encouraged him to stay up late into the night. Before that, his parents sometimes woke up to find him staring bleary eyed at a computer, fully immersed in his gaming habits. He felt more energized in the night, drawn to the moon and stars rather than the blazing light of the sun. Some poetic part of him waxed about the phases of the moon being more explanatory for his personality compared to the singular brightness of the sun.

In the last ten years, Jeongguk’s life changed to the point where early mornings became a necessity. A welcome one.

“Good morning, my sweet little love,” he crooned, peering into the dim bedroom. A pair of familiar brown eyes stared back at him, alight with recognition and happiness. Tiny, chubby hands gripped the railing of the crib as a little baby rose on shaky legs. He babbled happily, making Jeongguk’s chest constrict. He saw this almost every morning, but it tugged at his heartstrings everytime.

“Are we ready to start the day?” he murmured, sweeping into the room. He pulled back the curtains at the window, letting early morning light bleed into the room. Jungwon squealed in joy, bouncing where he stood. Jeongguk laughed and reached into the crib to pick up his son.

“Daaad!”

Jeongguk looked over his shoulder at the call, his wide smile growing wilder.

“Yessss?” he answered in the same manner.

His older son, Heeseung, poked his head around the door. A blanket hung around his shoulders, accompanied by a stick in his hand. Jeongguk frowned at it, prompting Heeseung to quickly hide it behind his back. He grinned sheepishly.

“Can I go play outside?”

“We haven’t had breakfast yet, little guy,” Jeongguk reminded. He fought a chuckle at his son’s antics, carrying Jungwon over to the changing table. Heeseung trailed after him, wrinkling his nose at the smell. “It looks like you’ve already been outside too.” He glanced down at the small boy, raising an eyebrow. “Which, you didn’t ask.”

He pouted. “‘M sorry.”

“Clearly now buddy.”

“I am sorry,” he enunciated. He looked up expectantly, causing Jeongguk to bite back a smile. He reached down to ruffle his hair.

“Thank you for apologizing. Let’s make sure to ask next time, okay?”

“Okay!”

Jeongguk patted his head again, humming. “How about you go put the stick outside, I’ll make breakfast, and then we can go to the park.”

Heeseung’s eyes lit up. “Can I push Jungie’s stroller?!”

“Of course, but you have to let daddy help.”

Heeseung pouted, crossing his arms. The stick smacked Jeongguk’s leg in the process, smearing dirt over his jeans. He wasn’t even phased.

“I can do it on my own.”

His lips twitched at the memory of the last time Heeseung insisted that he could do it alone. He got tired in five minutes, whining and complaining that his little brother was heavy. Jeongguk was wise enough to not argue with the four-year old that he’d been much heavier at Jungwon’s age.

“But daddy wants-”

“Jeongguk!”

The feminine cry of his voice immediately caused him to beam.

“In Jungwon’s room!” he called back, finishing up quickly as  he tugged Jungwon’s cute little floral shorts on. Jungwon grabbed his toes, cooing and babbling as he stared at the shift of light against the ceiling.

Heeseung darted out of the room, happily calling, “Mom! Mom guess what Dad and Jungi and me is going to do!”

“You’ll have to tell me about it later tonight, baby. Mommy has to get to work—go put that stick outside! You know how I feel about bringing in- Jeongguk, do you know where I left my phone?!”

Hurriedly slipping a shirt over Jungwon’s head, ignoring the little ‘no’ he picked up his son and left the nursery.

Heejin, his—beautiful, gorgeous, no-other-being-could-compare—wife combed through the living room. She tossed aside blankets, stray shirts, and socks. Although she was pretty everyday, she had dolled up a lot more today. Her dark hair curled into elegant waves, framing her cat eyes. Whatever lipgloss she wore instantly drove Jeongguk up the wall.

“Probably on the desk, Heejin.” Jungwon squirmed in his arms, and Jeongguk let him down. He crawled over to a toy truck Heeseung left out, slapping it with his hands and cooing. Heejin let the blanket she had vigorously shook out fall from her fingers. She darted towards the kitchen. Jeongguk caught her by the waist, pressing his lips against the corner of her mouth. “Hey, beautiful-”

“Jeongguk, I’ve got to go! I’m going to be late!” she complained. He frowned, letting her go. She dipped into the office, him one step behind her. He leaned against the door, one eye on Jungwon and the other on her.

“So you don’t even have time to kiss me good morning?” he whined. She stacked papers and moved books.

“If you wanted to kiss me good morning you should have done it while I curled my hair.”

“I was getting Heeseung up.” He pouted. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around his wife and force her to slow down, but he had to keep on eye on Jungwon.

Hejin didn’t respond, an irritated huff signaling that she still hadn’t found her phone. Jeongguk sighed, giving Jungwon a long glance before taking his eyes off his son. He leaned over his wife, pulling open the drawer. Heejin gasped, immediately grabbing her phone.

“There it is! How did you-?”

Jeongguk hooked his chin over her shoulder, pulling her against his chest.

“My dear wife,” he murmured against her ear. “We’ve been married for almost six years. You always put your phone out of sight when you’re working.”

She turned in his arms, pecking him on the lips before pulling out of his arms. It was far too quick.

“Thank you, Jeongguk. I’m glad you know me so well.” She flashed him an apologetic smile, running a finger down his shoulder to his hand. She squeezed it gently. “But I’ve got to go. Mr. Inglewood doesn’t tolerate lateness and he has a bunch of meetings today—you know what I mean.”

She didn’t wait for him to agree, sweeping out of the room. Seconds later he heard the front door open and close. Jeongguk stood in the office for another few seconds before stepping out. He immediately looked for Jungwon, finding him where he left him. Another door opened and closed, Heeseung skipping into the room. Jeongguk watched his eyes search the room, internally cringing.

“Is mommy already gone?” he asked, eyes widening. Jeongguk sighed to himself, but put on a big smile.

“Mom was running late so she had to go quickly.”

“But she didn’t even give me a kiss goodbye!” Heeseung whined, eyes shimmering. Jeongguk frantically thought of a solution. Tears this early in the morning usually set up for a difficult day.

“A-ah! But she did!” He crouched to be eye level with him. “Your mom gave me a kiss to give to you.” He wished that had been true, but he barely got one himself.

“Really?” Heeseung sniffled. Jeongguk’s heart sank. A familiar vein of irritation pulsed. He told Heejin that she needed to give more time and affection to the boys. That was the whole reason the goodbye kisses started. Little as they saw her, the boys loved and craved her attention. He needed to talk to her again.

“Really,” he echoed, grasping him by the shoulders. He placed a gentle kiss on the crown of his head. His forehead followed, then his nose, and both cheeks. Heeseung giggled under the attention, pushing Jeongguk to pepper his face with them. He laughed.

“Dad! Stop! That’s too many kisses!”

He gasped in mock surprise. “Too many kisses? That’s impossible! I  just love you so much-!”

He released another wave of them, making Heeseung groan and try to wriggle away. Jeongguk trapped him in his arms, playfully squeezing him.

“No, no, no!” Heeseung cried, laughing. “Let me go!”

“Never!” Jeongguk hissed, adopting his ‘evil crime lord voice’. He perfected it after a week of Heeseung needing an evil monster to save a princess from. “I won’t let you go until you say the magic words!”

He wriggled his fingers against Heeseung’s sides, making him shriek in laughter.

“Dad! Stop!” he giggled out. Jeongguk paused in his tickling.

“Magic words, Heeseung.”

His son hesitated, testing the threat. Jeongguk delivered, tickling him again. Jungwon giggled along, taking delight in his older brother’s laughter.

“Ok-ay! Ple-please!”

“Please what?”

“Please stop tick-tickling me, D-dad!”

He stopped, grinning as Heeseung collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath with a wide smile. It made his heart near bursting with love and adoration for his son—his little baby.

“I love you, Heeseung,” he murmured seriously, wanting him to know he full heartedly meant it. Heeseung rolled his eyes—who taught him that?—but smiled.

“I love you too, Dad.”

Oh, it killed him every time. He melted into a puddle. Why didn’t everyone want to be parents? This was great-

Hiccups sounded from beside him, a telling sound. He watched Jungwon’s face crumple, wincing at the wails filling the room. He learned by this point to ignore the pain in his ears as he hurriedly checked Jungwon for any injuries.

“Oh baby, are we hungry? Is that what it is?” Jeongguk murmured, picking him up. Heeseung watched them worriedly—some days he wanted nothing to do with his baby brother, but every other time he was fiercely protective of him.

“Why don’t you wash your hands, Heeseung, and I’ll get started on breakfast.”

“Okay!” Heeseung shot to his feet, probably more than thankful to escape the crying. Jeongguk grabbed a pacifier and offered it to his son. Jungwon took it without complaint. He gently wiped the tears from his soft skin. As he soothed his baby, his eyes drifted to the door.

When was the last time she held Jungwon? Soothed him when he cried?

He shook the thoughts from his mind, getting to his feet. She put him to bed yesterday. He needed to stop thinking like this.

“Daaad! I washed my hands!”

“Did you sing the ABC’s?”

“...no.”

Jeongguk laughed.

---

If someone asked Jeongguk if he was happy, he’d smile and say, “Yes.”

He had a lot to be happy about. He had the family of his childhood dreams. A beautiful wife, a dog, and two wonderful little boys. They lived in the perfect house, complete with the white picket fence. Jeongguk stayed home with his kids, doing whatever he wanted in the time that wasn’t occupied by his four year old kid and nine month old baby. His wife held a stable job as the personal assistant to the CEO of a technology company, bringing in enough money that they had everything they needed as well as everything they wanted.

He laughed whenever he thought about how he got to this moment. Traveling overseas for college, he stumbled and struggled to adjust to the new language and big city. He forced himself out of his shell to make a few friends, and everything from there went up.

He met his wife, Heejin, in a freak accident that included coffee, a final essay, and a dog. The moment they ended up awkwardly pressed against each other, coffee staining Jeongguk’s shirt, essay crumpled between them, and Heejin’s dog leash wrapped around their legs, Jeongguk knew she was the one.

Their romance burned bright with laughter, smiles, and passion. They got married in a whirlwind of emotion, ignoring the caution of their parents and friends. Jeongguk and Heejin laughed off their concern. They were in love and didn’t have a reason to wait.

Both of them panicked when Heejin got pregnant. They wanted children, but they planned it for the future. The far future. Stable, steady jobs and degrees future. Only in their second year of college, living in a cheap apartment, there was no way they could care for a child. Especially not with both of them in school full-time while also juggling part-time jobs.

The night before the first doctor’s appointment, Heejin sat him down and asked how he felt about abortion. Jeongguk agreed it was an option.

He didn’t expect to fall in love. Eyes glued to the screen, seeing their tiny little embryo—their baby—Jeongguk’s heart broke at the thought of never meeting them. He squeezed his wife’s hand. A silent plea.

She didn’t ask about abortion.

He dropped out of school, adding a full time job on top of his part-time. Heejin argued that she should have been the one to drop out, but there was no mistaking how grateful she was. Some nights were easier than others. Stress, exhaustion, and arguments filled that time. Happy moments burned bright in his memory. Once, Heejin surprised him at work, excitedly putting his hand to the underside of her swelling stomach. Feeling their baby kick left him a sobbing mess on the floor. He remembered opening the envelope that contained their child’s gender, not that it mattered, but his heart pounded harder than it had in his life.

All memories paled in comparison to the night their son was born. He paced the hall outside the hospital room, flinching with each scream. He stared at the door when a different cry sounded. A nurse collected him moments later. He froze at the sight of his wife, sweaty, and exhausted. He stared at the bundle in her arms, the source of the sound.

He never forgot how it felt to hold him for the first time, the world muted around him.

They named him Heeseung.

He became the light in their home, even if he cried more than anything else. Heejin took the next semester off to help Jeongguk, but he shooed her back to school when the following semester started. Terror gripped him when he explained that he didn’t want to go back to school. He wanted to spend every possible second with their doe-eyed baby, gripped by too much love and pain every time he left for his job at night. It took some… time for him to gain her support. He received most of it from his parents before she came around.

Jungwon came to them three years later, after Heejin started working for the company. Once again, unplanned. Not even a thought in their brains. He remembered the weeks leading up to that conversation, the night vivid. Jeongguk had his hands full with the terrible twos, arguably more exhausted than his wife. He thought taking care of a newborn was hard, but Heeseung surprised him. He’d been complaining to her about their terror of a son, knowing his words didn’t have much of an effect because of his contradicting love sick smile. Heeseung could grow up to be a serial killer and he’d still love him. (He’d be disappointed, horrified, and question his parenting skills, but he would still love him)

((Not that Heeseing would never become a serial killer.))

((Jeongguk would have to see if there was a parenting book titled: How not to raise your child to be a serial killer: for dummies))

She interrupted him mid rant with a simple question.

“So you don’t want another kid?”

Jeongguk looked up, noting her smile and playful eyes. He wiggled closer to her on the bed, laying his head in her lap and winding his arms around her stomach.

“I’m not saying that. I’m telling you about my day. And how we need to section off the bathroom. It took me forever to clean up the water…” he trailed off, peering up at her. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged. “Just curious.”

Jeongguk pushed himself up, putting them nose to nose. He placed a gentle kiss on her mouth, smiling.

“Do you want another baby?” He kissed her again, longer and suggestive. She hummed against his mouth, corners twitching upward. His hands found her hips, fingers curling. “Because we can have another baby.”

“You’re terrible.” She laughed as he turned his attention to her neck, peppering the skin with light kisses.

“That’s not what you said last ni-”

She shoved at his shoulder, making Jeongguk break out in laughter.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop…” he trailed off. Her hand, still on his shoulder, had something in it. Jeongguk took her wrist. She turned her palm face up. He took the object with shaking fingers.

“Is this…?”

Heejin smiled wryly.

“You’ve got to buy better condoms, Jeon.”

An an ExperiencedDad™, preparation for their second child was easier. He knew what to buy, what to expect with each trimester, and generally what to do. He knew when to leave her alone and when to be her punching bag. He grew accustomed to turning on the blender at three a.m, trying not to be sick as he handed her a mustard and blueberry bagel smoothie. He knew what to say when she’d sob, crying about how she was unattractive and fat.

(“Sweetheart, you’re not fat. You’re pregnant.”

“And?!”

“Uh…”)

He had everything figured out.

Hell broke loose.

Heejin woke him up in the middle of the night, shaking in pain. He immediately called one of their friends to watch Heeseung. She stayed silent on the drive to the hospital, responding with, “I’m okay” to every question.

He realized she lied to him when he saw the blood in the passenger seat.

To this day, he can’t remember the medical term the doctors told him. He can’t remember what went wrong. The entire night blurred the second the doctors took her, blood trailing her every step. He didn’t sleep the whole night.

Jungwon was born at 6:39 a.m at twenty-five weeks and three days. He began intensive treatment in the NICU. Heejin was in the clear after her emergency c-section. Due to complications, Jungwon would be their last biological child.

For the next fifteen weeks, Jeongguk and Heejin lived at the hospital. They switched off who would stay with Heeseung. Jeongguk more often than not stayed at the hospital. He held Jungwon first, careful of all the wires and tubes attached. He worried that he would do something wrong and cause pain for his little boy—his baby. He tormented himself at night, reading and re-reading articles and research on early birth, preparing himself for every complication Jungwon might have growing up.

He went to his knees in tears when the doctors told him Jungwon developed faster and healthier than other babies. He’d grow up to be a normal, healthy child without any complications.

At week thirty seven, Heejin came back from the hospital with their little baby cradled in his arms.

Jeongguk welcomed his cemented role as an at home dad. He loved every second of it, raising their kids while Heejin worked. Their lives were perfect, settling into normalcy and routine.

He was happy.

…he just wished his wife was around more.

He loved that she worked. He was thankful that she worked. She loved her job. But she didn’t spend enough time with the kids. She didn’t spend enough time with him. She would wake up, go to work, come home and work some more. After dinner, she locked herself in the office, crawling into bed somewhere between one and three in the morning. Once in a while was fine, but it turned into almost every night.

At some point, her job became her first priority.

Jeongguk knew he could be happier—a lot happier, but it was fine.

He was fine.

But the moments his kids were unhappy?

That was a different story.

---

“They miss you, Heejin! I miss you!”

“What do you want me to do, huh? Do you want me to quit?!”

“No! That’s not what I said at all. I’m just asking-”

“Asking? Jeongguk, you’re demanding!”

“It is not demanding for me to ask you to spend more time with your kids!”

“They’re your kids too-”

“You don’t think I know that?! I’m the one who is present in their lives! You would be too if you actually tried-”

“I do try! How dare you even try to say that I don’t!” Heejin yelled, breaking their hissed whispers. He shot a fearful glance at the living room. Jungwon was already in his crib, but Heeseung watched Mulan in the other room. Thankfully, no head peeked up over the couch.

“Heejin,” he pleaded, lowering his voice. She fumed, eyes cold and angry. Her arms crossed defensively over her chest. He squeezed her arms gently. “Please. For two nights a week, leave the work at the office and spend time with us-”

“You’re ridiculous,” she growled, ripping out of his grasp. Jeongguk watched numbly as she stalked out of the kitchen. The door slammed.

As Jeongguk gave Heeseung his bath, he was uncharacteristically quiet. Jeongguk knew he heard them arguing.

“It’s nothing, buddy,” he reassured, drying his hair. He paused to kiss him on the forehead. “Your mommy and daddy love each other. We argue sometimes, but we always make up.”

“Does mommy love me?”

The whispered words broke Jeongguk’s heart.

“Of course she does,” he croaked.

To his horror, tears filled Heeseung’s eyes. He hiccuped, small hands pressing to his face. Jeongguk pulled him into a hug, rubbing a hand up and down his back. Heeseung clung to him, tears and snot soaking into his shirt.

“Buddy, hey, why are you crying?” he asked desperately, fighting his own emotions.

“B-becuz! Mo-mommy doe-doesn’t l-l-love me!”

“Why do you think that?”

Heeseung rubbed a pajama sleeve over his running rose. Jeongguk immediately reached for a tissue, putting it up to his nose and telling him to blow. His tears slowed.

“Mom never says so. She never holds me or picks me up… at school Tucker’s mom always says that she missed him and she loves him, a-and she asks how his d-day was.” Heeseung sniffed, face crumpling again. “Mommy doesn't.”

“Oh.” He fought back tears of his own. He thought Heeseung was too young to make those connections. He thought he had time to talk to Heejin before their kids were affected.

“Buddy, I’ll tell you what.” He smiled, trying to force his emotions down. “I’ll prove to you that your mom loves you. When you wake up tomorrow, your mom is going to be the one to help you get ready for the day. Before she leaves for work, she’ll give you the biggest hug and a kiss- no four kisses!” He spread his fingers, intentionally keeping all five up.

“Daddy, you’re holding up five fingers, not four.” Heeseung giggled.

“Ah, right, right.” He tucked in his thumb. “You can count really well.”

He beamed with praise, his chest puffing proudly. “Ms. Abigail taught us to count to ten yesterday!”

“That’s amazing! Tell your mom that tomorrow, okay?”

He nodded eagerly, eyes bright with hope. “And she’ll say she loves me?”

“Absolutely.”

“How do you know?”

His heart broke. He kept smiling despite the rage building in his chest. Heeseung shouldn’t need this much reassurance.

“Because mommy and I know each other very well.”

---

Heejin didn’t come back until two a.m.

She shut the door behind her silently. Jeongguk didn’t look up from his drawing, the pencil sketches illuminated by the single lamp on the side table. He didn’t have much time for drawing, but he picked up a few commissions now and then. Most families took pictures to keep memories. Jeongguk did that, but he drew them as well, wanting each line to be filled with emotion.

“You have work tomorrow.”

“I know,” she murmured.

“Why didn’t you come back earlier?”

“Interrogating me?” she snapped.

Jeongguk closed the sketchbook, looking up at her. He made sure his emotions bled into his expression. Sorrow. Confusion. Anger.

“Is there a reason I should be?”

“Jeongguk,” she groaned, moving towards the bathroom. His chest stung. She didn’t tell him no. “I’m tired. Can we go to sleep and forget about-”

“Heeseung asked me if you loved him.”

She stopped.

“What?” she rasped. “Why would he ask that?”

“Do you?” His grip on his pencil tightened.

“Yes!” she answered, horrified. “He’s my son! How could I not—do you think I don’t love him?”

The lump in his throat grew. With each passing second, Heejin’s face paled.

“Jeongguk, you don’t think I love my children?”

“I know you do.” He shook his head, lower lip wobbling. “But it’s gotten to the point I have to convince myself that you do.”

“I-”

“You’re never here, Heejin. And I’m not talking about the time you spend at home. When you’re with us you aren’t present. You’re in the office. Or-or just absent. Do you remember anything Heeseung told you about today?”

The panic in her eyes answered the question. “That- I-”

Jeongguk’s eyes filled with tears. He dropped his pencil. She stopped stuttering, silence desecrating the room. She pressed a hand to her mouth, tears spilling onto her cheeks. Jeongguk longed to pull her into his arms and tell her it was alright.

But it wasn’t.

“W-what do I do? How do I fix this?” she asked, voice cracking.

“Make time for them,” he whispered. “No more disappearing into the office after work. When you clock out, you’re done.”

“But I can’t. I-”

“Don’t you dare make excuses,” he snapped. “You asked me what to do and I told you. Do you want to continue to know nothing about your son like a distant parent that doesn’t give a damn or do you actually want to be his mother?”

“I want to be his mother,” she whispered. “I am his mother.”

“Then act like it.”

He turned away, picking up his sketchbook and setting it on the desk table. He heard her footfalls, warning him before the bed dipped. Arms fell around him, lips pressing against his neck.

“I’m sorry.”

Jeongguk didn’t respond, angry and upset. Both at himself and his wife. But she was his wife, and he loved her, despite how badly she screwed up.

He turned in her arms, kissing her softly. His apology fell into the space between. He didn’t object when she crawled into his lap, undoing the buttons on his shirt. Despite not being in the mood, he needed reassurance that he was loved too. She whispered the words in his ear, traced it against his skin. She drifted off afterwards.

Jeongguk laid awake, numb.

---

“Jeongguk! Have you seen my phone?”

“Did you check the drawer?!” he yelled over his shoulder, grabbing Jungwon’s fingers before he reached for the pan. “No.”

The year old baby blinked at him on Jeongguk’s hip. “No?”

“Good Jungwonie.” He smiled.

He gave him a toothless smile, sticking his fingers into his mouth. Jeongguk grimaced as those same fingers pressed into his cheek.

“It’s not there-! Ah, whatever!”

He turned at the sound of her nearby voice, smiling as she entered. His favorite pair of earrings swung from her ears. She often teased him that he needed to pierce his ears to wear them himself. Another shade of maddening lip gloss, something with tiny sparkles that caught in the light, painted her mouth.

“Hello there, beautiful.” He smirked. Heejin picked her purse off of the chair, rolling her eyes.

Vast improvements were made over the months. Heejin spent more time with them, focusing mostly on the kids. Jeongguk didn’t mind it; he wanted her to rebuild her connection with them first. It went well. Heeseung never asked him heartbreaking questions and didn’t cry when Heejin left for work, satisfied by her smothering of affections. She even took a few days off so they could all go to Disney World. Jeongguk expressed how much he appreciated it that night.

Which… left him confused.

He loved Heejin. He knew he did. But their physical relationship was… lacking? No, that wasn’t the word. It didn’t-

“Heeseung! Come here so mom can give you a kiss!”

“I want five kisses!” Heeseung yelled. They laughed as he came careening around a corner, slamming into her legs with enthusiasm. She crouched down to kiss him with dramatic “Mwah”’s.

Jungwon squirmed in Jeongguk’s arms.

“Heejin, I think your other baby wants a kiss.”

She looked up, unimpressed. “Are you asking for yourself or for Jungwon?”

He grinned. “Jungwon, but I don’t mind getting one too.”

“Moooom, you only gave me four!”

“I’m sorry my little guy. Here you go.”

“Ma,” Jungwon whined, reaching towards her. Heejin cooed before kissing his nose, making him giggle. Jeongguk’s heart constricted; he knew he wore a dopey grin.

“Alright, mom has to go.” She turned to leave. Jeongguk pouted.

“What about me?”

“Ah, right. Forgot about my third baby,” she teased. She leaned up to kiss him, one hand curling over his neck.

No spark. No heat. No pleasure.

It was just… a kiss. Two mouths pressed together.

“Satisfied?”

No. “Yep!” He grinned, ignoring the confused twist in his stomach.

---

As Jeongguk put Jungwon down for a nap, he caught the faint ring of a phone. With his own resting in his back pocket, he realized it was Heejin’s. Jeongguk followed the sound to their bedroom. Wrestling with the tangled sheets, he dumped the phone out. He frowned at the called I.D. Given he didn’t recognize the name, it had to be someone from work.

Jeongguk answered it, not wanting it to be something important and his wife not getting the message.

“H-”

“Hey baby! I know that you mentioned wanting to try that new Thai place. So how do you feel about lunch. Should I pick you up around one? Two?”

Jeongguk’s blood ran cold.

“Heejin? You there?”

The question he asked Heejin months ago, one he forgot about until now, rose up in his brain. The question she hadn’t answered.

He’d been so stupid.

“Did I dial the wrong number? Uh. Is this Kim Heejin-”

“This is Jeon Heejin’s phone because she changed her last name seven years ago,” Jeongguk growled, grip on the phone tight enough to shatter. “Who the hell are you and how did you get my wife’s number?”

They went dead silent.

Then, in a tiny, dread filled voice, the caller responded.

“She’s married?”

---

“I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know,” Yugyeom rasped, eyes red and blotchy. He’d been crying for a while. Jeongguk knew he looked the same. They watered now, staring at what Yugyeom brought. Pictures, gifts, personal items she left at his apartment… Jeongguk didn’t want to see the evidence his his wife’s betrayal, but he knew she would deny it until he second guessed himself.

“I believe you.” His voice cracked.

“I- I can’t believe I- I’m a homewrecker,”  Yugyeom buried his face in his hands. Shoving down his own pain and hurt, he reached over to grab his shoulders.

“Yugyeom, it is not your fault. Please, please don’t blame  yourself.”

“I saw the ring. I asked her and she said she put it on the wrong finger. I should have questioned it more-”

“Yugyeom,” he pleaded. The man lifted his head. Jeongguk tried to smile, but he knew it came out as a grimace. “Please. I don’t blame you. Don’t blame yourself.”

He nodded, a sharp jerk of his chin, but Jeongguk knew where his eyes were. They rested on the carrier Jungwon babbled in. He would have left him behind if he could.

“Thank you for giving me all of this.” He tapped the box of evidence with shaking fingers. “And… and thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

“Thank you for not punching me.” Yugyeom laughed weakly. His smile dropped. “I would have, if I had been you.”

“Well, if you insist.”

His eyes widened, arms flinching. Jeongguk laughed, but the laughter turned into sobs. Yugyeom rounded the table in the private room to pull Jeongguk into a hug, proving further that he was nothing but innocent.

We could have been friends, he thought, driving home with stinging eyes. If they had met under different circumstances, they would have been. He was sure of it.

---

Jeongguk kept a smile plastered on when he picked up Heeseung from school. When Heejin came home, he kept it bright and happy. He managed not to flinch when Heejin touched him, but shied away from all intimate contact. When she slid a hand up his thigh under the dinner table, Jeongguk grabbed it and placed it on his knee instead. His stomach twisted and churned as he waited for Heejin to come into their room. When she did, all of his emotions slipped away, leaving behind nothing but calm.

“You spoil Heeseung too much,” she groaned, closing the door behind her. “I tried to leave after one bedtime story and he complained that you always read him two. Because I had to one up you, I read him three stories-”

“Do you love me?”

She blinked at him, smile slipping into confusion. “Of course I love you. I married you-”

“Then why?”

“Why what?”

Jeongguk tapped the box resting at his feet. Heejin giggled, stepping over to him with a sway to her hips.

“Jeongguk, I don’t know what that is.”

His emotions rushed back.

He kicked the box. Heejin jumped. The contents spilled out. A picture fluttered to her, face up. It caught her and Yugyeom, mid-smiling kiss.

She went white.

“How long?” he asked, voice dead.

She lowered her head, radiating shame. “Three months.”

“Don’t lie.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t ask for an apology,” he snapped. “How. Long.”

“You already kno-”

“Answer the question!” he yelled, fists clenched. His nails bit into his skin, grounding him. Heejin raised her chin, eyes hard.

“Almost a year.”

“Our anniversary was in two months,” Yugyeom murmured. He reached into his pocket. “I was going to-”

“Why didn’t you tell him you were married?” His voice trembled. From anger or sorrow, it didn’t matter.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s not an acceptable answer, Heejin!” Jeongguk cried, rising to his feet. Heejin flinched. He only grew angrier. Why did everyone expect him to hit them?! Heejin knew he hated physical violence.

“What do you want me to say?” she rasped.

“Anything,” he begged, grabbing at his hair. “Hell, even an excuse would be better than I don’t know. I want you to tell me the truth. Why did you cheat?”

She pursed her lips. She wasn’t going to say anything. He was at the end of his rope, going mad with the need to know why.

“Heejin,” he pleaded, tears flooding over. “If you ever loved me at all-”

“You don’t love me!” she screamed, the sound bubbling over a sob. “That’s why I did it! Because at least someone loved me.”

Jeongguk stood, stunned. Heejin’s shoulders shook with sobs. She covered her eyes with her hands.

“You don't see, Jeongguk. You don’t love me anymore. Not in the way you used to. Not in the way I want you to. I can tell that when I kiss you, when I touch you, when we’re in bed—you’re going through the motions. You don’t feel anything. I thought- I thought I was doing something wrong.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking and I know it was dumb and doesn't make sense now but I thought I could use him to figure out what I lacked.

“It spiraled out of control. I shouldn’t have. I know it was wrong. But the way he looked at me was just how-” She choked on a sob. “It was how you used to look at me. I was wanted.”

His head spun. The reality of what she said crashed down on him. Her cheating. How he felt about her.

She was right.

He still loved her, but he didn’t love her.

His glassy eyes met hers. She stopped talking, staring at him with hurt and sorrow. A mirror reflection of his own feelings.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. A confirmation. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes.

“Don’t apologize.” She hiccuped. “There are things you can’t control. I’m the one- I did something I could control and I chose to do it even though it was so wrong. I’m so, so sorry.”

He couldn’t forgive her. Not yet. But she was still his wife. He loved her.

He rose to his feet, pulling her into his chest. He held her as she cried, stroking her hair and pressing his lips to her forehead. Each touch burned, but they were ingrained in his muscle memory. He held her until morning. Both their tears dried.

“Are we getting divorced?” she asked timorously. Jeongguk shook his head. Paused.

“I don’t know. We need time to think,” he murmured. “It’s not just us that we have to think about. We have our boys.” He pressed his lips together. “Do you love Yugyeom?”

“Not like I love you,” she whispered. “I could, I think. If I really wanted to.”

He sighed, placing his chin on her head. With her here, it was hard to think. Everything told him that he needed to stay. They could work this out. He could even learn to love her romantically again. But the pain, hurt, and worry tormented him. He knew he could be happier.

“I think I’m going to visit my parents,” he whispered. She tilted her head up, leaning away to peer at him.

“In Korea?”

“Yeah. It’s hard to make a decision when everything is so fresh. I know if I stay here I’m going to convince myself that we’re staying together.” He knew he hurt her, telling her that divorce was an option. But right now, he couldn’t imagine seeing her everyday for the rest of his life and dealing with the pain. “I need to go somewhere that’s not attached to you.”

Heejin nodded. She moved when she was young, having little to no memories of South Korea. The two of them never visited together since tickets were expensive and they had two kids to take care of.

“How long?”

“...two weeks.”

“Take the boys with you.”

Jeongguk sat up, eyes wide. “You-you want me to take the boys? All the way to Korea? For two weeks?”

“Your parents have never seen them in person. Our kids never officially met them,” she pointed out, sitting up. “I know that they’ll miss you a lot. They’re used to me being gone because of all the business trips. You’ve never been gone for more than a day or two.”

He stared at her.

“Do you know how stressful getting past TSA is going to be?”

Heejin snorted in laughter, throwing her head back. Jeongguk watched her, both in awe and sadness. Awe, because he saw her in a different light now. Sadness because he couldn’t look at her while she laughed in the way that he used to—the way she wanted him to.

He still didn’t know why.

“Go with the boys,” she said seriously, putting a hand on his chest. “Give yourself time to think and I’ll do the same.” Her hand fell with a small smile. “But I’ll tell you right now. I really don’t want to get a divorce. I-” She swallowed harshly. “I still love you even if you… don't love me the same way.”

“I could,” Jeongguk rasped. “I want to love you again. I don’t know why I stopped.”

Her lower lip wobbled, but she smiled.

“If you don’t know why you stopped, there’s a good chance you won’t start again.”

---

“Passport?”

“Yes.”

“Diaper bag?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Beautiful wife?”

He merely smiled at her. It had been almost a week since their crash and burn. Things were… better. Jeongguk felt lighter, despite all the hurt and pain. Having it out in the open allowed them to take proper steps in figuring out what to do next.

Jeongguk adjusted a sleeping Jungwon, careful not to wake him. He hoped they could catch the redeye standby flight. Heeseung bounced around at his feet, excited at being awake this late. Jeongguk knew he would crash in the car, and then he’d have a grumpy five year old to deal with.

Yay. So exciting.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” he murmured as he finished strapping Jungwon to his car seat. He shut the door, sealing off their conversation from the kids. She nodded, smiling weakly. He grabbed her hand, thumb smoothing over her knuckles. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll take the next flight back in a heartbeat-”

“Don’t call me at all, Jeon,” she warned. “You said you needed time and if you say something like that…”

His heart sank. “Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she whispered. He squeezed her hand, letting go.

She grabbed it again.

Jeongguk looked back at her, eyes wide. Heejin didn’t meet his gaze, her focus on his hand. Shaky fingers hovered over his wedding band. She slid it off his finger.

“Heejin?” he rasped. Heartbroken.

She placed it in her palm, holding it up between them.

“For two weeks-” Her voice trembled. “-I give you permission to do whatever you want, as if we never made any vows.”

“Heejin,” he pleaded. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t do this to me.

“We have an open relationship for two weeks.” She smiled, empty.

He grabbed her hand. “Heejin, I’m not going to do anything even if you take off my wedding band. Why would I even go looking-”

“Jeongguk,” she interrupted. “For you to really know what you want, I can not exist in your mind. This-” she held up the wedding band. “Can not hold you back.”

She handed him her left him, determination shining through her eyes. Jeongguk looked down at her engagement ring, where he knew the wedding band lay underneath. He stared, stared, and stared until Heejin placed his right hand over her left.

“No regrets,” she whispered.

He couldn’t breath as he slid the rings off her finger. He remembered buying both, heart pounding each time. His heart skipped every time she moved her hand and the jewels caught in the light.

His heart didn’t do that anymore. The memories were still there, but the emotions weren’t.

Where had they gone? Why weren’t they there anymore? Why couldn’t he just-

“Go,” Heejin croaked trying to stay strong even though she broke. It should have been fair, with how much Heejin broke him, but he felt sick. “You’ll miss the flight.”

“Can I be selfish?” he blurted. She knew what he wanted. To his surprise, she nodded.

Jeongguk cupped her face and kissed her desperately. He conveyed every emotion he felt. He could taste the saltiness of both their tears, feel the desperation in their hearts. He could feel her hope, that maybe he would come back feeling like before. The pleading. Even if he didn’t come back loving her like before, that he would choose to stay, that she could keep him even if it meant she’d always be hurt. She loved him.

She felt his desire to stay, to be with her and love her as much as she loved him. She felt his fear that he would come back not wanting to stay, an emotion that plagued him now. The fear of separation and dealing with the heartache that came with it. He lay in pieces at her feet, shattered by her betrayal. She broke their vows, his heart, his trust. It hurt more because he couldn’t even stay mad at her. She could feel his frustration, that even if they were on the brink of a life changing event, he still didn’t feel an ounce of romance as he kissed her.

“Go,” she gasped as they parted, crying freely now.

“I love you,” he sobbed. “I do, I really do.”

She put her hands over his, holding them to her for a little bit longer. She lowered her hand to his chest and pushed him away.

“Go. And when you come back-” She held up the rings he pressed into her palms. “You can put these back on my finger or we can sell them for our divorce party.”

Despite everything, Jeongguk laughed.

Notes:

Someone kill me now. What am I doing?

I am. Uh. Not a parent. I did extensive googling. And uh. This is what I got.

I honestly didn't know what to tag this as, or what tags to use, so if you have any suggestions, I'll take them.

I am. PRAYING. That this turns out to be three chapters like it's supposed to. If it ends up being more... dear lord please don't let it turn out to be another 200k fic like WTR.

Please give me your thoughts on how this sounds so far? I kind of don't know what I'm doing with it and I've never written this kind of story before... so again, I don't know what I'm doing. So feedback is greatly appreciated.

Chapter 2

Notes:

Ha. Ha ha ha. hahahahhah HAHAHAHAH
This isn't going to be three chapters.
R.I.P my life.

He hated that he cried on the way to the airport. He was so grateful that Heeseung had been asleep, allowing him to cry, even if he didn’t want to.

It was a struggle to hold everyone’s bags, Jungwon, and a sleepy Heeseung’s hand as he wove through the airport. It wouldn’t have been a struggle if the baby carrier had not broken, scaring the crap out of him because Jungwon had been in the carrier. Thankfully he had been adjusting it and had both hands on his kid. He could do without, but it was making everything harder than it needed to be.

Heeseung was predictably grumpy, but it was pushed aside in favor of staring up at the grandeur that was the Orlando International Airport. If they got on the flight they wanted, they would have a three hour flight to Minneapolis, an hour layover, and then a thirteen hour flight the rest of the way to Seoul. If they didn’t get on the flight… well, Jeongguk would get to that when he got to that.

His eyes were stinging and sore as he approached the TSA. Heeseung had started complaining about his feet hurting as they stood in the long line and now he was dragging along. Jeongguk didn’t lose his patience with the kids often, but he was starting to.

“Heeseung, please get off the floor,” he begged, one hand weighed down as Heeseung sank to his knees. Jungwon was still out, drooling all over his shoulder. The straps of the diaper bag and the two carry-ons were digging into the arm not weighed down by Heeseung sliding around on the floor.

“But I’m tired!” He whined. “I don’t wanna walk.”

It was difficult to pull one son along while carrying the other and multiple bags. He wanted to rub at his eyes, but he didn’t even have the hands to do that.

“Heeseung, I’ll give you until the count of three.” He warned. Heeseung slumped even further, whining.

“But I’m tired!”

“One.” The line moved, and Jeongguk grit his teeth as Heeseung went deadweight, causing him to exert more energy to pull his son along. They were approaching the counters too; he couldn’t have Heeseung throwing a fit.

“Two…”

“Daddy, I don’t want to!”

Screw it.

Jeongguk tugged him over as far as they could go, smiling apologetically to the people behind him. “Sorry, please go ahead.”

They hardly gave him a glance. Jeongguk’s smile dropped as he crouched to his son’s level. Heeseung was now sitting cross legged on the floor, arms crossed as  he pouted petulantly. Jeongguk’s throat grew tight, because he knew that Heeseung was tired. And they had a long flight ahead of them, and then an even longer one after that. It had seemed like a good idea to take the boys when Heejin had suggested it, but now…

“Heeseung, buddy. My little deer,” he rasped. Heeseung looked up at the unusual address—it was something Jeongguk’s mother used to call him. He had never called Heeseung that before, but now that his son was actively looking at him with wide doe eyes… it fit.

Jeongguk wanted to laugh all of a sudden.

“I need you to be really good right now.” Jeongguk said gently. “This is going to be a long trip. I know that you’re tired—daddy is tired too.” Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. He was feeling it ten times worse now. “I promise that when we’re on the plane you can rest and sleep all you want, but for now, I need you to walk normally and listen to everything daddy tells you to do.”

Heeseung’s lower lip started to wobble. He pressed his hands to his eyes, scrubbing at them desperately. “But I’m tired.” 

“I know, I really do. Can you promise me to be good at least until we get past the security checks?”

Heeseung’s eyes widened. “Are we bad guys?!”

Jeongguk winced. Definitely not the thing you want to hear shouted across an airport. Especially since there was that article about a guy trying to hide a bomb on his kid…

Okay, Jeongguk, let’s focus on something else.

“No, buddy, we aren’t bad guys. But we have to go through security so that everyone else knows we aren’t bad guys.” He explained carefully. “Everyone goes through security so that those guys,” he pointed to a TSA. “Can keep us all safe while we’re flying.”

“So they’re superheroes?” He asked, awe filling his voice. Jeongguk bit back a snort. Usually super grumpy, harsh, and unforgiving heroes, but he supposed it was right.

“Yeah, buddy, they’re superheroes.”

“Like-like Sentinel?”

Jeongguk rolled his eyes at the mention of the cartoon superhero. “Yes, Heeseung. Like Sentinel.” He ruffled his hair fondly. “So do you think you can be good for me for a little bit?”

Heeseung instantly nodded, jumping to his feet. Jeongguk sighed in relief, carefully coming out of his crouch. He couldn’t feel his fingers—he had lost circulation ages ago—but at least he wouldn’t have anymore problems with Heeseung.

He made sure to have all the documentation ready by the time they got to the front. It took very careful arrangement of everything and he accidentally woke up Jungwon, but his baby was in a good mood and didn’t cry. He was sticking slobbered fingers in Jeongguk’s hair, but it was better than having to deal with a screaming child.

Once they were past the check station, the real struggle started.

“Hand me your bag, Heeseung.”

“Dad, everyone’s taking off their shoes.”

“You don’t have to bud.” Jeongguk muttered, putting Heeseung’s bag in the tray. He shifted Jungwon to his other hip, arm shaking as he lifted the other bags to the trays. He never wanted to pick them up again. He toed off his shoes, crouching to pick them up. It was then that the metal of his belt touched his stomach, making him curse.

“Why why why did I wear a belt!” He hissed to himself as he fought to take it off.

“Here dad!” Heeseung shoved his shoes in Jeongguk’s face.

Jeongguk groaned. “Heeseung, I told you that you didn’t have to take off your shoes. Put them back on.”

“But I want to show everyone my socks!” He wiggled his toes.

“You- fine.” He grabbed Heeseung’s shoes, throwing them into the bin along with his belt. He reached for his hand, fingers wrapping around his ring-

Bare skin.

Jeongguk stared down at his hand.

Tears pricked at his eyes.

No, dammit. He cursed, blinking rapidly. You’re not crying in the gosh darn airport.

“Dad! Do we get to go through that?”

“Yes, Heeseung,” he answered, taking his hand.

He had Heeseung go first to make sure that he could get through okay. He tightened his grip on Jungwon when they pulled Heeseung aside for a pat down, but he was released without an issue or doing anything that Jeongguk may or may not have had nightmares about.

Jeongguk took a bit longer since he had Jungwon with him. Thankfully an agent stayed with Heeseung, making sure he didn’t go running.

“Thank you,” Jeongguk murmured to her as he took Heeseung’s hand. She smiled at him with crow eyes.

“You’re welcome! I remember traveling alone with my younglings ages ago. It’s a tough one. Do you want me to hold this little guy while you get your bags situated?”

Bless her heart and soul, Jeongguk thought. “If you would. Heeseung, let’s get your bag.”

He handed Jungwon to the woman, keeping one eye on her at all times as he hurried to shove his shoes on. He grabbed their bags, having an easier time because he wasn’t holding Jungwon.

“Thank you so much,” he said, pulling Jungwon back into his arms. He blinked at Jeongguk with sleepy eyes, reaching up to pat his cheeks. Reflexively he kissed his palms, flushing as the older woman cooed.

“Awww it’s nothing. You’ve got such cute kids. Your wife must be a looker too.”

Pain.

“I hope you have a safe flight!” She gave him one last smile before turning back to her duties. Jeongguk forced himself to start walking, absently grabbing Heeseung’s hand.

They were halfway to the gate when Heeseung tugged on his hand.

“What, buddy?” He croaked.

“I need to pee.”

---

“How many seats do you need?”

“At least two,” Jeongguk responded anxiously, bouncing Jungwon. He was still a little fussy, even though Jeongguk had given him the pacifier. “But three would be preferable. And I need them together.”

They had gotten on the first flight, which ended up only being half full. Jeongguk was able to put the diaper bag in the seat next to him, giving him legroom while also having access to everything he needed. The first hurdle had been jumped over.

The hour layover had sapped the rest of his energy and patience. Jeongguk’s shirt was now stained with orange juice and yams. Heeseung had spilled the drink Jeongguk had bought him, and Jeongguk had forgotten that Jungwon hated yams. He hadn’t been able to sleep on the flight and he couldn’t during the layover. He was too terrified that Heeseung or Jungwon would need something or get sick while on the flight, and he needed to watch the bags and make sure Heeseung didn’t run off during the layover. Not to mention Jungwon had spent most of the hour crying. Jeongguk was running on fumes at this point.

“It seems like we’ve got exactly two seats left on this flight and they’re together, so you’re in luck.” The gate agent smiled at him. “Let me scan your tickets and then you can get on board.”

Jeongguk sighed in relief, handing over the tickets. Getting on the flight was the easy part. Now he had to figure out how to keep his sons entertained for thirteen hours. He wanted them to sleep for most of it—he wanted to sleep for most of it—but he knew that both of them were too high strung with energy. He had a few coloring books and toys… hopefully that would tide them over. Knowing his luck, it wouldn’t.

Jeongguk was so glad that they had gotten on both flights without difficulty that he hadn’t thought about the person they’d be sitting next to until they were following the flight attendant to the seats.

His first thought was, crap Heeseung will want the window seat, which was already taken by a passenger. His second thought was… incomprehensible. Something like holyshitthisguylookslikeanidolwhyishesoprettywow. Or along those lines. Jeongguk didn’t really know since his mind was a jumble of words, emotional overload, and exhaustion.

The man’s eyes were closed, earbuds already in his ears. Jeongguk kept glancing at him as he put the bags up. It wasn’t very often he looked at a guy and thought that they were good looking  Of course, there were all the idols, but they were idols. They were dolled up and made to look attractive. This guy had to be a normal guy; there would be no way he was sitting in economy otherwise.

“Dad, I want the window.” Heeseung whined.

“You can’t have the window buddy. Someone is already sitting there.” He murmured, trying to be quiet as he lifted the last bag up. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, debating. He had to make a choice between putting Heeseung in the aisle and risking him trying to run off or sticking him in the middle seat where he could potentially bother the other guy. He had to make a decision fast because they were one of the last ones to board-

“I can switch seats, if you want.”

Jeongguk jumped, knocking his head on the luggage bin. He hissed in pain, rubbing his head while Jungwon giggled.

But Jungwon wasn’t the only one who laughed.

Quiet, angelic chuckles reached his ears and Jeongguk stared, flabbergasted at the man looking back at him with crescent eyes. He was covering his mouth with his hand, trying to hide the evidence even as his shoulders shook.

“Sorry,” he lowered his hand, showing off a bright smile. “I didn’t mean to laugh. Or startle you. Is your head okay?”

Is my head okay??? “Yeah, it’s fine.” Jeongguk muttered. “And you don’t have to give up the window seat if you really don’t want to-”

“But I want the-”

“Heeseung-”

“It’s really no issue.” The man in quick, easy, and efficient movements managed to gather all of the items he had already stored and got to his feet. “I bet you would feel more comfortable not having a stranger sitting by your child.”

He slipped out of the row and Jeongguk couldn’t help but notice that the top of his head barely reached his eyes. He didn’t protest as Heeseung immediately slipped into the row and settled at the window. Jeongguk ran a hand through his hair, chuckling nervously.

“Honestly I was more worried about him bothering you.”

He waved it off. “Nonsense. Him bothering me would probably be more entertaining than anything I’ve brought.”

“I-I can’t refute that.” Jeongguk laughed, taking the seat next to Heeseung. After he stored Jungwon’s things at his feet, the man sat down again. Their knees tapped as he stored his own little bag. Jeongguk cleared his throat, turning to Heeseung. “Buddy, what do we say to the nice man that gave you the window?”

Heeseung gasped, half crawling over Jeongguk so that he could see around Jungwon. “Thank you!”

The man smiled, so warm and friendly that it instantly put Jeongguk at ease. He took it back, he didn’t have bad luck. This trip had gone better than every single possible scenario he had thought of.

“You’re welcome!” he said, leaning a bit forward so Heeseung could see him better. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Heeseung! I’m five!”

He giggled. “It’s nice to meet you, Heeseung. I’m Jimin.”

As he said his name, his eyes flickered to Jeongguk momentarily. There was something assessing in his gaze, and it made Jeongguk sit up a little straighter.

“How old are you Jimin?”

“Heeseung!” Jeongguk gasped. Jimin just laughed, eyes disappearing.

“I’m twenty-eight, Heeseung.”

Jeongguk stared. There was no way this guy was twenty eight. He didn’t look a day over twenty. He couldn’t possibly look like that and be older than Jeongguk.

“I’m five!”

He broke into giggles again. “You told me that already.”

“Ah.”

“Let’s get your seatbelt on, buddy.” Jeongguk interrupted as the flight attendants started to close the bins. Heeseung lifted his arms and let Jeongguk clip on the seatbelt. Then, he situated Jungwon to sit comfortably, doing the belt over both of them. It was easier to do it early so he wouldn’t have to fight with it when they actually needed it.

Heeseung immediately turned towards the window, opening the shade. Jungwon was very quiet, occupied with playing with his feet. As the flight attendants started going through the safety information, Jeongguk looked over at Jimin. His eyes were at the front, as if he was actually paying attention.

“I’m Jeongguk,” he murmured. “Thank you again for giving up the window seat. Other people wouldn’t be as kind.”

He chuckled lowly. “You actually did me a favor. I like to get up and move a lot, especially on long flights like this. It’s bothersome to do that when you’re the one at the window.”

“Then why’d you pick the seat in the first place?”

“Plane courtesy. They announced that it was going to be a full flight and I didn’t want to be that one person that sits in the aisle seat.”

Jeongguk laughed. “I get it. Those people suck.”

Jimin flashed him a smile before nodding at Jungwon. “What’s this little guy’s name?”

“Jungwon,” he answered. The baby looked up at the call of his name, giving Jeongguk a gummy smile. Jeongguk’s heart collapsed, and he couldn’t help but place a kiss on his forehead.

“Oh gosh I need to change seats.”

Jeongguk looked up in alarm. “What, why?”

“Health concerns.” Jimin covered his face with both hands. “I’m going to have a heart attack if I see something that cute again.”

Relief swept through him and he laughed. “Oh I know what you mean. I don’t know how I haven’t gotten a stroke yet. I thought I was fine when I survived Heeseung, but I was sorely unprepared.”

Their conversation came to a halt once again as the plane started moving. Jeongguk double checked that their seatbelts were secure. Heeseung grabbed his arm.

“Daddy, how long is this fight going to be?”

“Flight, buddy. And it’s thirteen hours.”

“How long is that?”

“You know how you wake up at seven and go to bed no later than nine?”

Heeseung’s eyes widened. “It’s a whole day of playtime?”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “But since you didn’t get much sleep you should go to bed. That will make the time go by faster.”

Heeseung frowned. “But I’m not tired.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Jeongguk muttered. He heard a snort, and glanced at Jimin who was innocently staring up at the ceiling. “If you’re not tired in thirty minutes then I’ll get your coloring book and you can do that, okay?”

“Okay!”

He was out a few minutes after the plane stabilized.

Jeongguk ran a hand through his son’s hair, smiling fondly as he leaned into the touch, even in his sleep. Jungwon had fallen asleep too, his little face smushed into Jeongguk’s chest. Now that he didn’t have to worry about his children seeing his face, Jeongguk let the smile drop. The emotions he had been suppressing for the whole week came flooding through. He leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. He sighed heavily.

“Rough day?”

He cracked an eye open. Jimin peered over at him, a sympathetic smile on his face. Jeongguk shook his head.

“More like a rough week.”

“Ah. Those are worse.”

They fell silent.

Jeongguk was about to close his eyes again when Jimin spoke.

“Sorry to bother you again.” He murmured. “It looks like you’ve got everything handled, but uh, can I suggest that you take their shoes off? There’s a higher chance of feet swelling on long flights like this. Taking their shoes off would help with that.”

“Oh, right.” Jeongguk’s eyes widened. “Thanks.”

It was easy to get Jungwon’s shoes off, but he had to do a bit of shifting to reach Heeseung’s shoes. Untrying them with one hand was also difficult, since he had to support Jungwon. It turned out to be impossible. Jeongguk sat back up with a huff, looking down at Jungwon helplessly.

Then he had an idea.

“Jimin, can you do me a huge favor?”

His eyes widened. “Uh. Sure?”

“Could you hold Jungwon for a second?”

Jimin’s lips parted in shock, but he immediately held out his arms.

“I’m not going to lie, I was really tempted to ask if I could.” He babbled as Jeongguk placed him in his arms. “But I knew that could be seen as creepy.”

Jeongguk laughed as he leaned down to untie Heeseung’s shoes. “At this point I think it’s safe to assume you like kids.”

“Love them,” Jimin murmured. Jeongguk glanced up, fingers stilling at the expression on Jimin’s face. He looked down at Jungwon with so much love and adoration that Jeongguk thought he was looking in a mirror for a second. “I wish I was at the stage of my life where I had my own.”

Jeongguk finished tugging off Heeseung’s shoes, shrugging. “It happens when it happens. My wife and I certainly weren’t planning on having kids as early as we did.”

He paused. My wife and I. By the end of this trip, would he still be saying that? His chest constricted. He certainly wanted to, but Heejin seemed convinced that he wouldn’t. Even if she wanted it as well.

“Are you flying home to her, or…?”

“No, this is just a little vacation that she couldn’t come on.” Jeongguk straightened, flashing a strained smile. “It’s complicated.”

That wasn’t what he meant to say, but the words slipped out before he could stop them. Jimin’s lips parted in a little ‘ah’ as he handed Jungwon back. Their fingers brushed.

“So what made you decide to vacation in Korea? If that’s your final destination, that is.”

“It is,” Jeongguk confirmed. “I’m actually visiting my parents. They’ve never gotten to see the boys, so I decided to take them with me.”

“Oh, I’m doing the same. Did you grow up there?”

“Hmm. Busan.”

“No way,” Jimin gasped, abruptly switching to Korean. There was a familiar lilt to his voice, a deep Busan satoori that immediately brought nostalgia crashing into him. “I grew up in Busan too!”

“That’s insane!” Jeongguk gasped, also switching to Korean. It had been a while since he spoke his mother tongue, since Heejin didn’t speak much of it. It was comforting to hear it and comforting to speak it. “What area? I grew up in Mandeok-dong.”

“I grew up in Hoedong-dong.”

Jeongguk’s eyes widened. “My parents moved into that area a few years ago.”

Jimin matched him, jaw dropping. Then, they both started laughing. Jeongguk found himself relaxing, the stress draining away.

“So we’re going to the same place?” Jimin giggled. “This is so weird.”

“I know! What are the odds?”

“I don’t even know. I just know that now I really can’t get on your nerves for this flight because we’ll be stuck with each other for another three hours after that.” Jimin teased. Jeongguk shook his head.

“If anything, you’d get tired of me.”

“Oh definitely. I’m only okay with this arrangement because of the kids.” Jimin nudged him with his shoulder, winking. Jeongguk’s chest flared with warmth at the action. He missed contact like this; people were a lot less touchy in the states.

“I’m hurt, Jimin-shi.”

“Please, just call me Jimin.” He squinted. “At least, I think we’re around the same age?”

Jeongguk smiled sheepishly. “I’m two years younger. ‘97. So I think I’ll call you hyung.”

“I’m alright with that.”

“So do you live in Korea? Or here in the states?”

“I live in Seoul now, but I travel a lot for my job.”

“Oh, what do you do?”

Jimin covered his mouth with one hand, eyes glinting mischievously. “Guess.”

“I wouldn’t even have the slightest clue.” Jeongguk laughed. “I mean, when I first saw you I thought you were an idol but…”

“That’s actually quite flattering, and you’re on the right track. Nothing that glamorous though.”

“No, wait, really?” Jeongguk twisted in his seat to get a better look at him. “Are you an actor? Talk-show host? Reporter?”

“Something a little more physical.”

His eyes narrowed. He let his eyes trail up and down Jimin’s body, searching for something that would give it away. The short–sleeved shirt he was wearing showed off his toned arms, hinting that he was active. It was hard to tell with the sweatpants, (ugh, Jeongguk didn’t know why he wore jeans. Sweatpants would have been far more comfortable) but even with them he could tell that his legs were well defined.

It was a sight Jeongguk saw in the mirror almost everyday years ago.

“You’re a dancer,” he murmured, finally looking back up.

“I’ll take it.” Jimin smiled. “ I’m a choreographer and back-up dancer for idol groups.”

 Jeongguk’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding? How is that not glamorous?”

Jimin ducked his head, and if Jeongguk wasn’t crazy, he swore that there was a blush on his cheeks.

“Well, what about you?”

“Ah,” Jeongguk smiled weakly, feeling the embarrassment kick in. Don’t get him wrong, he loved being an at-home dad. But it was sometimes hard to tell people that he didn’t work. “I’m just at home.”

Jimin didn’t even blink. “The most exhausting yet rewarding job of all time.”

“Amen,” Jeongguk murmured, feeling warm all over.

---

A rough patch of turbulence pulled Jeongguk out of his dreamless sleep. He groggily opened his eyes, confused at where he was before he remembered that he was on a plane. Glancing to his left, he saw that Heeseung was quietly coloring. Jungwon was still in his arms, playing with a key ring toy that had been attached to the pouch. Relaxing, Jeongguk nuzzled back into his pillow, closing his eyes.

Wait, Jeongguk didn’t bring a pillow.

Jeongguk jolted upright, eyes widening in horror as he realized that he had been sleeping on Jimin’s shoulder for who knows how long. The man in question was reading a book, and glanced up at his sudden movement.

“Well, good morni-”

“I am so sorry.” He blurted. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you-”

“Jeongguk,” Jimin laughed. “It’s fine. I didn’t say it earlier because I didn’t really know you, but I’ll tell you now. Your eye bags are deeper than women’s purses. You clearly needed some sleep.”

“But that doesn’t mean I should have-”

Jeongguk’s jaw snapped shut as Jimin placed a hand on his arm. His hand was warm, and Jeongguk became aware of just how small his fingers were.

“It’s really alright. I didn’t mind.” He reassured, voice low. He lifted his hand, and Jeongguk realized he hadn’t been breathing. “I hope you don’t mind that I went through your bags—Jungwon got a bit fussy and Heeseung wanted to color.”

“N-No that's fine,” he managed. “How long was I out?”

“Four-ish hours?” Jimin hummed, tapping the cover of his book. He caught Jeongguk’s eye again and smirked. “Don’t worry, you were only using my shoulder for about an hour.”

Although it would have been better if Jeongguk hadn’t slept on him at all, an hour was more acceptable.

“Dad,” Heeseung shoved the coloring book in his face. “How does it look?”

Jeongguk looked at the scribbled page and pretended to be impressed. “Wow, Heeseung, that looks good buddy. You must have worked really hard on it.”

Heeseung nodded eagerly. “I also have to go pee.”

Jeongguk mentally sighed. “Alright. Let me get Jungwon’s diaper bag and we’ll go together.” He gave Jimin an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I-”

“I was about to get up anyway,” Jimin said easily, shutting his book and sliding out of the seat. He lifted his arms above his head, stretching. A sliver of creamy skin revealed itself and Jeongguk tore his eyes away, feeling unsettled. He quickly grabbed Jungwon’s things and herded Heeseung out of the seat.

When they returned to their seats, Jimin was reading again. He didn’t close his book as he stood again, seemingly transfixed on whatever was happening in the novel. Jeongguk caught a glance of the title.

Blank Spaces.  It wasn’t a novel he was familiar with.

“What’s your book about?”

Jimin, who had just barely sat down, startled, looking over with wide eyes. “What?”

Jeongguk found himself smiling. “Your book. You seemed pretty invested in what was going on, so I wanted to know what it was about.”

Jimin, who had been open and very giving with everything they talked about, closed off.

“It’s not a book you would be interested in.”

“Who knows? I might surprise you.” He grinned, trying to lighten the mood. Why was Jimin being so hesitant now? “What, is it a romance?”

Jimin pursed his lips. Jeongguk’s smile dropped.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to push.”

“It’s fine.”

For the first time since they boarded the flight, awkward silence stretched between them.

---

Jungwon, who had been so wonderful throughout the whole trip so far, decided to finally show his evil side.

“Jungwonie, please,” Jeongguk begged, trying to offer him the pacifier for the third time. He pushed it away with a wail, fat, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. Having fed him an hour ago, Jeongguk knew that he wasn’t hungry, he had been changed less than twenty minutes ago, and he had done his best to put him to sleep. He had even offered him a toy. Still exhausted and running on far less sleep than he needed, Jeongguk couldn’t think of anything else that could calm him down.

He could tell that other passengers were getting annoyed with the cries. He had counted three heavy and exaggerated sighs already, and they did nothing to help his situation.

“Dad, Jungi is being too loud.” Heeseung whimpered, covering his ears.

“I know, Heeseung.” Jeongguk said sharply, trying to bounce Jungwon on his knee. The lulling motions were doing nothing for him. “Can you please get another toy out of the bag for me?”

He crouched to do what was asked, but Jeongguk didn’t think it would really help. Sure enough, Jungwon immediately rejected the purple dinosaur. Distress was scrunched into every line of his face and he let out a particularly high shriek.

By this point, Heeseung was starting to get upset too.

“Daddy, it’s too loud.” He complained, eyes filling with tears. Jeongguk’s stomach sank. He was already pulling apart at the seams trying to get Jungwon to stop crying. He didn’t need Heeeseung to start as well.

“Will you shut your kid up?!” Someone shouted.

Jeongguk winced.

Then the most amazing thing happened.

Jimin, who had been doing something on his phone, ripped his earbuds out of his ears and twisted in his seat, leaning into the aisle. Narrowed eyes searched before they darkened with glee. He held up his hand, middle finger raised. He mouthed a word Jeongguk was glad he didn’t actually say before twisting back.

“Here, Heeseung, wear these.” He reached across, handing Heeseung his earbuds and phone. Then he looked up at Jeongguk, eyes determined. “What have you already tried?”

“He’s fed, changed, and I’ve tried putting him to sleep.” Jeongguk reported, on the edge of hysteria. “He’s rejecting toys—I don’t know what he wants.”

“Is he sick?” Jimin asked worriedly. He felt Jungwon’s head with the back of his hand, lips pressed into a thin line. “He doesn’t feel overly warm.”

“I checked for that too, but everything’s fine.”

Jimin lowered his hand, but he hovered over Jungwon’s eyes. Then, spreading out his fingers slightly, he ran the tip of his middle finger down Jungwon’s nose, starting at the crease between his eyebrows. His other fingers lightly trailed over Jungwon’s eyes, making him reflexively close them. He repeated the motion a few times, Jungwon’s cries dying out with each pass.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Jeongguk whispered.

“My mom did it for me and my brother.” He murmured. “Would send me right to sleep every time,” he chuckled. “It probably still would.”

“Thank you.” Jeongguk said quietly. “You’ve helped me out a lot—I don’t even know how to repay you.”

“You don’t have to.” He chuckled. “But if you don’t mind, I would like a friend to keep me company during the train ride home.”

“I thought that was already a given.” Jeongguk teased. “We are going in the same direction.”

“I just thought you might have changed your mind.” Jimin smiled weakly. “I shut you out earlier over a silly little thing.”

Jeongguk shook his head. “You basically said that you didn’t want to tell me and I pushed. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Still, I-”

“It’s my turn to tell you it’s fine.” Jeongguk interrupted. “It’s water under the bridge now.”

This smile of Jimin’s wasn’t one that he had seen yet. It was shy and sweet, and a little too pretty. He became increasingly aware of the little points of contact between them; their shoulders were pressed together and their knees were touching. Jimin’s eyes were just so open and-

“I love this song!” Heeseung gasped, startling Jeongguk. He started bouncing in his seat, humming along to what Jeongguk recognized as a popular pop song.

Jimin threw his head back and laughed.

Jeongguk didn’t know why the sound made his stomach twist.

Notes:

Little notes:

1. Having people complain about a baby crying is very very rare, especially on an airplane. But since this is a fanfiction, I needed a little conflict. :D

2. What Jimin did for Jungwon was something my mom always did for me... it's the fastest way to get me to shut up to this day. XD

3. ...yes there is a shameless reference to my other fic...

4. There was more extensive googling done here, but I also did things very down low because I didn't want to kill Jeongguk too much.

Thank you guys so much for the feedback! I'll try to reply to comments when I can: I'm trying to focus on getting chapters out as fast as possible so I can go back to focusing on my other work. By all means, continue to tell me what you think.

Chapter 3

Both of his children were asleep again when the plane landed. It was a much softer landing than the first flight, where all three of them were jerked awake as the wheels touched to the ground. This time, Heeseung just snuffled sleepily and snuggled further against Jeongguk’s shoulder. Jungwon just continued to drool all over Jeongguk’s shirt.

The landing did pull someone else to consciousness.

Jeongguk looked down at his left shoulder as Jimin shifted, eyes cracking open sleepily. He lifted his hands to rub at his face as he sat up slowly. His face was a bit puffy from sleep, but it made him look cute and cuddly. Jeongguk didn’t know why he was using these adjectives to describe him, but they fit.

Jimin became aware of the situation much calmer than Jeongguk did. Pink spread over his cheeks at the realization that he had fallen asleep on his shoulder, but instead of freaking out, he just shrugged.

“I’d say sorry, but I’m not really,” he grinned, voice an octave lower than usual. Jeongguk shrugged with the one unoccupied shoulder, smiling back.

“It’s an equal exchange. Was it comfortable at least?”

Jimin hummed.“I’ll give your shoulder a six out of ten. It was a bit too hard. I think you’ve got nothing but muscle there.”

“Jungwon’s heavy. I had to lift weights to be able to carry him.”

Jimin shook his head as he laughed.

They unanimously agreed to stay in their seats when people started deboarding. Jeongguk watched Heeseung sleepily put his shoes back on, making sure that he didn’t fall asleep again. It had happened enough times and after an unfortunate accident at breakfast involving a full bowl of cereal, Jeongguk learned to keep an eye on him.

“Do you want me to take some of your bags?” Jimin offered as he slung his own back over his shoulders. Most of the plane had emptied out.

Jeongguk debated. “My arms are actually sore from holding Jungwon, so if you want to-”

“Hand him over,” Jimin demanded, making grabby hands. Jeongguk chuckled, passing him over. Jungwon’s eyes cracked open at the shift, but he just peered up at Jimin for a second before shoving his head under his chin and passing out. Jimin made eye contact with Jeongguk over his head and mouthed, “Oh my gosh. He’s so cute.”

“He’s my kid, he has to be.”

“Oh no, this is all your wife.” He brushed some of Jungwon’s hair out of his face, oblivious to the way Jeongguk faltered. He rubbed his ring finger, feeling the absence greater than before.

“Yeah,” he rasped. He reached up to grab his carry-ons, missing Jimin’s concerned expression.

“Did I say something wrong?” Jimin murmured as they stepped off the plane.

Jeongguk shook his head. “No. You’re actually right. Jungwon looks a lot like Heejin.”

He didn’t realize it would hurt to say her name.

“Can I see a picture of her?”

Jeongguk lifted the bags in his hands and stared at Jimin helplessly. He laughed, eyes scrunching. “I get your point. You’ll have to show me later.”

“I don’t know if I want to… she’s beautiful.”

Jimin laughed harder at that, as if he didn’t believe it. 

“I’m not going to get a crush on your wife, Jeongguk. I can promise you that.”

“...well you should. She’s absolutely breathtaking. Can’t even rate her on a scale. The most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen-”

“I’m starting to think that you aren’t really married.” Jimin snorted. “I don’t think such a person exists. Heeseung, did your dad kidnap you?”

Heeseung’s nose scrunched. “What does kidnap mean?”

“Heeseung, tell Jimin how pretty your mommy is.”

“Mommy?” He lit up. “My mom is the prettiest in the whole world! Her smile is really pretty and-and she laughs pretty too.”

Jimin gave Jeongguk a blank look. “He’s definitely your son.”

Pride filled his chest, overwhelming the stone of sorrow that had settled there a week ago. He squeezed Heeseung’s hand, winking at him. Heeseung tried to wink back, but it turned into a really rapid blink that made both Jeongguk and Jimin laugh.

After eating overpriced airport food—Heeseung insisted—the four of them boarded the AREX. If it had just been Jeongguk without the kids, he would have taken the subway, but he wanted to be able to keep an eye on them. It turned out that Jimin and Jeongguk had booked everything the same, so they would quite literally be traveling together all the way to Hoedong-dong.

“This is perfect,” Jimin had said, still holding Jungwon close to his chest. He was awake now, but seemed content to be cuddled to death. “This means I won’t have to kidnap your children.”

“I probably should be worried that you keep saying things like that, but for some reason I’m not.”

“It’s my charm.” Jimin winked, giggling. Jeongguk didn’t know why his palms were sweaty all of a sudden.

Heeseung, who had been watching the exchange, tugged on Jimin’s sleeve. He leaned in, whispering (so talking normally with a rasp), “Can you teach me how to blink with one eye?”

The hour on the AREX was spent teaching Heeseung how to wink, which proved to be unsuccessful. He pouted until they were on the KTX, quickly becoming enraptured with the fast moving scenery.

“What are you planning on doing with your parents?” Jimin asked, fastening the bib around Jungwon’s neck. It was amazing how quickly he had taken up the role as Jeongguk’s helper—all without being asked.

“I don’t really know.” Jeongguk handed him the spoon and an open jar of strawberries and bananas. He bit his lip, lowering his head and muttering, “They don’t exactly know that we’re coming.”

Jimin’s saucer eyed look was all Jeongguk needed to see to know he hadn’t been quiet enough.

He knew it had been stupid to not tell his parents that they were coming, but every time he dialed their numbers or opened up a text, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Especially over the phone. They would question why he was visiting with just the boys and not Heejin. He would probably lie and say that she was working, and that would spark a whole different confrontation. Even worse, he knew that the moment he heard his parent’s voices, he would break and start blubbering. So when Heejin asked if he had talked to them, Jeongguk put on a big smile and lied.

He has been lying a lot lately.

“They don’t know you’re coming? What if they’re on vacation or something?” He asked worriedly. Jeongguk reached back into the bags, pulling crayons and a coloring book for Heeseung. He would probably want it in a few minutes when he got bored of looking out the window.

“They usually text me whenever they go somewhere. They like to rub it in.” He chuckled. “So I’m pretty sure they’re home. If not? Well, I know how to pick a lock.”

That startled a laugh out of Jimin. “I don’t know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.”

“Definitely a good thing,” Jeongguk murmured, watching Jimin feed Jungwon. He always got fussy when eating, but for some reason, he was content in Jimin’s arms. “Do you babysit?”

“I did a lot when I was younger.” Jimin glanced up briefly before putting the spoon back in the baby food. “Why?”

“You’re good at this.” He rubbed at his neck, not quite looking him in the eye. “Most people don’t really know what to do around kids—especially when they’re as young as Jungwon.”

Jimin hummed, holding up another spoonful. Jungwon glared at it. Jeongguk tensed, hoping there wouldn’t be a food fight, but Jimin smoothed a hand down Jungwon’s back. He accepted it with nothing more than a puckered pout.

“I did tell you I loved kids.”

“Loving kids has nothing to do with the ability to care for one.” He would know. Heejin loved her boys, but she was always hesitant when they started crying or were being difficult.

“Are you calling me a natural?” Jimin teased, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“You’ve had some experience, so no.”

“Mean.”

They both laughed. Jungwon whined, tugging on Jimin’s shirt. He opened his mouth, looking at the spoon then back at Jimin. He giggled. “Sorry Jungwonie.”

Jeongguk’s fingers itched. He hurriedly grabbed his bag, pulling out his sketchbook. It took a bit longer to find a pencil, but when he did he was flipping to the next blank page. Jimin was oblivious to his scramble.

While Jimin fed Jungwon, Jeongguk drew. Sometimes when he looked up to check his reference he would find Jimin looking back at him, eyes shimmering in curiosity. Jeongguk lifted his sketchbook a little higher. Occasionally he would ask what he was doing, but Jeongguk would just murmur, “Almost done.” At one point Heeseung looked over to watch him—he loved watching Jeongguk draw.

“Dad you’re drawing J-”

“Don’t ruin the surprise buddy,” Jeongguk interrupted in a low whisper. Jimin raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing at his lips. No doubt he knew exactly what Jeongguk was doing.

It was only when Jungwon got tired of Jimin that he was forced to reveal the harried sketch. As Jeongguk lifted Jungwon into his arms, he handed over the sketchbook as recompense. He watched Jimin’s mouth fall open in shock, eyes widening. His fingers hovered over the drawing, careful not to touch.

“Jeongguk, you didn’t tell me you’re an artist.” Jimin breathed. There was no mistaking the awe in his voice.

“I do it on the side,” he shrugged, grinning when Jimin didn’t react. “I like drawing little moments that happen with my family.”

Jimin’s eyes didn’t leave the page. “Can I take a picture of this?”

“Sure.” Jeongguk chuckled. Jimin whipped out his phone, snapping a few photos before handing the sketchbook back.

“I guess I was really lucky to be holding Jungwon at the time,” Jimin giggled. Jeongguk shook his head.

“I would have drawn you either way.”

Heat flooded his cheeks as he realized what that implied. He fumbled to explain.

“I- I mean I know we just met, but you’ve been so helpful and I just-” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “We connected really easily so you just… feel like family now.”

Jimin held up a hand, clearly stunned. Jeongguk wanted to bash his head in the wall for saying something so stupid. It hadn’t even been a day since he met him and he was calling him family?

“Are you telling me…” Jimin started, voice shaky. “That I gained two nephews in the span of a few hours?”

Jeongguk flushed. “I- yes?”

“I need their birthdays, a list of the likes and dislikes, and things that they’re currently interested in.” Jimin babbled. Excitement filled every line of his body. “And of course I’ll need to get to know you and your wife more—that way it won’t be awkward if I suddenly show up on your doorstep with gifts and steal your children away for a day.

“You, Jeongguk,” Jimin smirked at him. “Just made a huge mistake, because I’m going to spoil your family rotten.”

---

“Dad, will you let me go to Lotte World with Uncle Jimin?!”

He knew leaving to go to the bathroom was a mistake.

 Jeongguk glared at the innocent man avoiding eye contact and holding Jungwon before turning a sweet smile on Heeseung.

“We’ll have to see buddy. Let’s get to grandma and grandpa’s before we make any plans.” He picked up their bags, used to the weight by this point. He stepped up to Jimin, leaning over to whisper, “You demon.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jimin hummed.

“He’s never going to shut up about it now!”

“Well then I guess you’ll have to let me take him.” He smirked, nudging Jeongguk with his shoulder.

“You’re evil.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Since Jimin accepted his sudden induction into Jeongguk’s family, the conversation between them flowed even easier than before. Banter and teasing came without fear of offense. Jeongguk couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have met Jimin—a piece in his life he didn't know he had been missing. He didn’t realize how much he had needed a friend—a male friend; all of the moms Jeongguk regularly met for brunch on Tuesdays didn't count. It was nice. Jeongguk felt like he was in college again, joking around and having a good time.

“Are you sure I’m not troubling you?” Jeongguk asked as they boarded the bus that would take them the rest of the way. Jimin had asked to go with them all the way to Jeongguk’s parents, pointedly looking at all of the bags Jeongguk had to carry and lug around. It had only gotten harder when he added the checked luggage to the mix.

“Absolutely not. The deal was sealed the minute I became Uncle Jimin.” He sounded far too proud of the title. Heeseung had taken to calling him Uncle mere moments after Jimin started calling him his ‘favorite nephew.’

At this point, Jeongguk knew it was impossible to argue with him.

He fell asleep for most of the bus ride, waking up when Jimin gently shook him. Jungwon was asleep in his arms—Jeongguk would have a hard time getting him to adjust to a regular sleeping schedule again.

He groggily stumbled off the bus at their stop, a bit grumpy. He also needed a regular sleeping schedule. He wasn’t in college anymore. He couldn’t stay up two days in a row, crash once, and be fine. No, ever since Jeongguk had gotten kids he had learned very quickly that he needed to be on a schedule as well.

“Where to next?” Jimin chirped, looking far too awake. Jeongguk peered up at the nearest street sign.

“We’re about two streets away.”

Jimin looked up in surprise, an unreadable expression crossing his face. Jeongguk was too tired to ask. He didn’t protest when Jimin took two of the bags from his hand, shifting Jungwon on his hip. Heeseung was still wide awake and full of pent up energy. Jeongguk didn’t scold him as he ran ahead, screaming at the sight of a playground. Jimin chuckled quietly at the sight. Jeongguk was really, really tired, because his laughter was echoing in his ears long after he had stopped.

Jimin got progressively quieter the nearer they got. He was a bit more awake now, and internally worried over Jimin’s sudden silence. He was also starting to feel a little sick to his stomach—his parents were spontaneous people so him suddenly showing up with the kids shouldn’t make them upset, but he also hadn’t seen them in person for four years.

Jeongguk obsessively checked the address on his phone, making sure that he didn’t get lost. He had only been to his parents' new house once, so his memory was a bit foggy and muddled. But the minute he saw the bright blue fence separating their house from their neighbors, it came rushing back to him. His shoulders dropped in relief.

“We’re here.”

Jimin stopped, blinking at their surroundings. “Here?”

Jeongguk pointed at his parents house. “This is the one.”

Strangely, Jimin’s eyes darted to the house beside it. His lips twitched upwards, and Jeongguk watched, bewildered, as Jimin broke out into uncontrollable laughter. He stumbled on his feet a little, sending a spike of anxiety up Jeongguk’s spine because Jimin was holding Jungwon. Thankfully he steadied, dropping a bag to wipe at his eyes.

“What’s so funny?” Jeongguk asked, genuinely curious.

Jimin’s eyes shone with mirth as he shook his head. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

His stomach twisted. “Right.”

“Is this grandma and grandpa’s house?” Heeseung asked, hopping up the steps. Jeongguk nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. It had been far too long since he saw his parents, and it was different now that he could properly introduce his kids to them.

Seeing the emotion on his face, Jimin quietly asked, “Would you like me to leave?”

“No,” he blurted, blushing a little. How could he tell Jimin that him being here actually provided an immense sense of comfort?

“Can I knock?” Heeseung whisper yelled.

“Go ahead buddy.” It wasn’t like Jeongguk had the hands to do it anyway.

His heart was going to beat right out of his chest. Heeseung knocked, and for good measure, Jimin added one that was stronger. In the darkening evening, it was clear that someone was home because the windows were lit up. A few seconds after they knocked, Jeongguk heard movement and a muffled, “I’m coming!”

Heeseung stepped behind Jeongguk, shyness overcoming him at the sound of what would be a semi-unfamiliar voice.

His grip tightened.

The door burst open, revealing the glowing face of his mother. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, he knew that she saw no one else but him. Her mouth stretched up into a smile, lines in her face deepening.

“Jeongguk!” she squealed, throwing her arms around him.

Why had Jeongguk been worried again?

“Eomma,” he choked—both from emotion and from how hard she was hugging him.

“I didn’t know you were coming!” She continued, pulling away to hold him at arm's length. She placed a loving hand on his cheek. “This is such a nice surprise.”

Then she looked down, gasping.

“And you brought my grandchildren?!” She nearly shrieked. Heeseung looked up at Jeongguk with wide eyes. His mother dropped into a crouch, outstretching her arms in invitation. “Heeseung, come give your halmeoni a hug.”

It took a gentle prod from Jeongguk before Heeseung moved, but he fell into her arms with enthusiasm. She picked him up, squeezing him tight as he giggled. “Oh you got so big!”

Heeseung’s chest puffed up in pride at the words, grinning toothily. He didn’t even ask to be put down like he normally would—claiming that he was too old to be carried.

When his mother’s eyes flickered to Jimin, he expected to see some confusion. He didn’t expect her smile to grow ten times wider.

“Jimin-ah! I haven’t seen you in a while. How nice of you to pop in for a visit.”

Jeongguk’s jaw dropped.

Jimin giggled, stepping into his mother’s side for a hug. Jungwon complained a little at being squashed. “It’s nice to see you too.”

“Wha- how do you two know each other?!” He exclaimed. Jimin threw his head back in laughter while his mother raised an eyebrow. 

“Je-Jeongguk,” Jimin gasped. He pointed to the house to their left, eyes barely open. “My parents live there.”

Jeongguk blinked at the house, the pieces suddenly clicking together. Jimin’s silence and out of place laughter… this was all one giant and strange coincidence that his brain couldn’t process.

“Oh.”

Jimin fell into more peals of laughter, and while she wasn’t in on the joke, his mother laughed too.

“Come on in all of you!”

Jeongguk stumbled inside, smacked in the face with the smell of cookies and pumpkin. He inhaled deeply, the scent further soothing his nerves. He took off his shoes, dropping the bags near the wall in relief. His mother had immediately taken Heeseung to the kitchen—most likely to offer a cookie. Jeongguk collapsed onto the couch, groaning at the pain in his back and legs. Jimin sank into the seat next to him, completely at home, and still snickering.

“You know my parents.” Jeongguk grumbled. “This is so weird.”

“Imagine how I felt when you led the way to my street.” Jimin smirked. Jungwon crawled off his lap, squeezing himself into the space between Jimin and Jeongguk. Jeongguk eyed the edges of the coffee table, regretting his decision to not tell his parents he was coming. “If I had known that Jeon Junghee was your mother…”

“I don’t know how you didn’t recognize him!” Jeongguk’s mother entered the room, carrying a plate of cookies. Heeseung trailed after her, half eaten cookie in hand and chocolate already smeared over his mouth. “I’ve shown you pictures.”

Jimin laughed at Jeongguk’s horrified face.

“It’s a bit hard to connect baby pictures to the adult version, especially when you aren’t expecting to meet them.” Jimin teased, grinning at him. His smile softened. “But I guess I should have known by the eyes.”

Jeongguk’s stomach did a funny twist.

“How did you two meet?” Junghee leaned in, eyes bright. “I don’t think you’ve ever been introduced.”

“On the plane, actually.” Jeongguk huffed. “We sat next to each other and just started talking…” Jeongguk glanced at him, wondering how much he’d regret saying this, but it was true. “He was kind of a knight in shining armor, honestly.”

Red flooded Jimin’s cheeks and he looked down at his hands. “I wouldn’t say that-”

“No, really. I was going insane traveling with these two guys by myself.” Jeongguk ran a hand through Jungwon’s hair. “Then I sat down next to this really patient and kind stranger who offered to help me out. You should have seen him when Jungwon was being difficult. I’ve never seen him calm down so fast.”

Jimin was bright red by now, looking seconds from burying his face in his hands. Jeongguk chuckled at the sight. If he had known that this was all it took to fluster him, he would have done it ages ago. He looked too cute-

Wait what?

“Ahh, Jimin you’ve always been an angel. If Mijeong would let me adopt you…” Junghee sighed forlornly. “I guess I’ll have to settle with you being a son-in-law by well wishing.”

“Too bad I don’t have a sister you can marry.” Jeongguk joked. “Though I could get my hyung to wear a dress and a wig.”

“Jeongguk, I’ve actually met Junghyun,” Jimin chuckled. His nose scrunched. “Not my type.”

“What is your type? I know a few single moms so you’d get a wife and kids in one package-”

“Speaking of wives,” his mom cut in. “Where is Heejin?”

Jeongguk faltered, nearly biting his tongue. The whole reason for the trip came crashing back, filling him with unliftable sorrow. His fourth finger felt too light. He tried to smile.

“She just wasn’t able to come with us.”

His mother’s eyes narrowed. “Jeongguk, I’m your mother, I know when you’re lying.”

Jeongguk’s eyes darted to Heeseung, who was reaching for another cookie.

“Not now, eomma,” he whispered.

Silence stretched over the household, broken by Jimin standing.

“Well, I suppose I should let my parents know that I’ve arrived.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He obviously felt awkward for unintentionally intruding on a private conversation.

“I’ll walk you out,” Jeongguk leapt to his feet, gently grabbing his elbow. “And Heeseung, don’t even think about reaching for a fourth cookie.”

Heeseung pouted, the sneaky hand snaking back to his side. Junghee cooed, grabbing a wet wipe to clean his face.

“Thank you, again, for everything.” Jeongguk murmured at the door. Jimin rested his hand on the handle, smiling up at him.

“It’s no issue. I’m kind of glad, because otherwise it would have looked like I was following you.” He laughed. Jeongguk’s eyes traced the curve of his smile and the scrunch of his eyes, feeling warm.

“Do you think we could see each other again?” He blurted. “I mean, our parents are neighbors and I’ll be here for a bit. T-two weeks at least.” He paused, watching Jimin’s eyebrows raise. “I- only if you want to-”

“Jeongguk, are you always this nervous?” He asked gently, tilting his head. Jeongguk swallowed back the rest of his ramble, shaking his head.

“Not really. You kind of make me nervous?”

His eyebrows rose further, letting Jeongguk know just how that sounded.

“N-not like that! I-”

“I’ll make you a deal.” Jimin interrupted, with a smirk. It was a dangerous smile, something that made Jeongguk a little uneasy. “I’ll ‘see you again,’” Oh, that sounded weird too. Way to go Jeongguk. “Only,” Jimin leaned in a little, lowering his voice. Jeongguk held his breath.

“If you let me take Heeseung to Lotte World,” he finished in a rush, leaning back and laughing.

Oh he plays dirty.

“Deal.” Jeongguk rasped. Jimin’s eyes lit up, but Jeongugk held up a finger. “But I get to pay for tickets.”

“Ah, then I wouldn’t really be taking him to Lotte World. I’m paying for everything.”

“Jimin, tickets are expensive. I couldn’t possibly let you-”

“Jeongguk,” Jimin grabbed his hand, effectively shutting him up. They were so small. “Believe me when I say I’m not hurting for money.” He let go of Jeongguk’s hand with a grin. “Back up dancer and choreographer for idol groups, remember?”

“Right.”

“And you forgot something else.”

“What?”

Jimin opened the door, stepping out. He winked at Jeongguk over his shoulder.

“It’s Jimin hyung.”

He skipped down the steps, waving behind him as he went. “I’ll see you tomorrow Jeongguk!”

It took far too long for Jeongguk to shut the door.

Even longer for his heart to settle.

---

Jeongguk kissed the top of Heeseung’s head, adjusting the covers as he pulled away. His son didn’t stir, making Jeongguk smile as he left the room.

His mother was a saint. Despite not having any idea that they were coming, she quickly set up the guest bedroom for Jeongguk, and helped him arrange his old room for his boys. She even pulled out a crib from some dark and dusty corner of the closet. Jeongguk spent the rest of the evening setting that up, then had dinner with his parents. Junghee hadn’t said anything about their arrival to her husband, so Jeongguk got to scare the crap out of his dad when he came racing down the stairs.

The boys were exhausted by then, so Jeongguk got them all ready for bed.

“Are they asleep?” Jeongho, Jeongguk’s father, asked. He leaned against his own bedroom door, smiling softly at him. Jeongguk grinned back.

“Yep.”

Jeongho slung an arm around his shoulder, and they shuffled awkwardly downstairs with each other. “I heard you met Jimin today.”

“Yeah. It was a bit of a crazy occurrence, but he’s pretty nice.”

“That boy helped us move in, you know.” Jeongho chuckled. “He was here with his friends for the weekend, saw our moving truck and immediately ran out to help us. He’s an angel, that one.”

Jeongguk smiled at the imagery. It definitely fit what he had seen so far. “It sounds like he’s here a lot.”

“Every time he comes home after a trip he visits Mijeong and Pilwoo. They’ve got a great son on their hands.”

“I’m starting to think you guys are trying to tell me something.” Jeongguk laughed. “Do I need to up my game? Am I not showering you guys with enough son-ly love??”

“Well, you could bring my grandchildren around a lot more.” Junghee giggled. She patted the spot next to her, which Jeongguk immediately took. His father sat in the armchair next to them. “You’re the best little boy I could ask for.”

“I’m twenty six, eomma.”

“I know that. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re my little deer.”

Jeongguk’s throat tightened. His parents hadn’t even blinked at the fact that he had shown up uninvited. They didn’t yell at him for not being able to visit for years—he hardly even called them. But they were ecstatic that he was here.

Oh how he wished it was by different circumstances.

“Guk?” His father asked softly. Jeongguk choked on a sob, burying his face in his mother’s shoulder. She immediately wrapped her arms around him.

“Jeongguk, baby, why are you crying? Is everything okay?”

“No,” he croaked. “No. Nothing is okay.”

“Scootch over son.” Jeongguk did as asked, all three of them squeezing onto the love seat. His father’s arms joined his mother’s, and Jeongguk allowed himself to be held. His mother carded her hands through his hair, pressing her lips to his forehead. He was six again, crying over a scraped knee and running to his mother for comfort. He was fourteen, angry over his first break up and asking his dad where he went wrong. 

His parents had always been his pillar of support, although the support had always been hesitant when it came to Heejin. Had they somehow known? Had they foreseen the heartache and pain she would cause him? There was no way that they had.

“What brought this on?” Jeongho murmured, rubbing a hand across Jeongguk’s shoulders. Jeongguk turned to him with watery eyes.

“She cheated on me.”

Both of his parents froze. Jeongho lifted his hand from Jeongguk’s shoulders, pressing it to his mouth in horror. His mother squeezed him tighter. They didn’t ask any questions. They let him compose himself and tell the story, his breath hitching and halting throughout the entire thing. By the end, salty tears were streaming down his face.

“That’s why I’m here with the boys. Clearing my head.” He wiped at his face. “That’s why I didn’t call ahead. I- I couldn’t. I didn’t know what to say.” Jeongguk rubbed at his ring finger. It was a habit by now, one that killed him every time. “I didn’t know how to say it.”

“We understand.” His father rasped. He was silent for a moment. “What are you going to do?”

“There’s nothing else to do!” Junghee hissed. “They need to get divorced-”

“Junghee,” he warned. “What she did was wrong—there’s no doubt about that. But she still loves him. Jeongguk still loves her-”

“But I don’t.”

His parents looked down at him. Jeongguk couldn’t meet their eyes, staring at the floor.

“It changed. I changed. She was right when she said that I didn’t love her.” He rubbed at his eyes, feeling frustrated all over again. “It’s complicated and I can’t explain, but-”

“You don’t love her romantically anymore.” His mother said softly.

Jeongguk shook his head. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t still want to be with her! She’s one third of my whole world. I can’t just throw that away. And we have the kids to think about—I don’t want to put them through that. Heeseung adores Heejin and I just-” he collapsed against his parents, so tired and exhausted, and sick.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Junghee pressed her lips to his temple. “Right now you don’t have to do anything. Just take it easy. Process it.”

“It’s hard to process it when I’ve got two kids to still take care of,” Jeongguk huffed. He wasn’t bitter about it. He would never hate taking care of his children. He just wished he had a little more freetime.

His parents shared a look.

“Well… since you didn’t call ahead, your mother and I actually have a trip to Jeju next week.” His father said slowly.

“We could take the boys off your hands for a week and you can stay here.” His mother brushed a few strands of hair away from his eyes. She cradled his face. “No distractions—just a clear mind.”

He couldn’t deny that it sounded like a good idea. “Are you sure? That would basically be taking away your vacation-”

“Oh please,” Junghee laughed. “I’m the only one who would be vacationing. Your father has meetings for the first four days. And, if you agree, I will finally get to know my grandkids.”

Jeongguk’s eyes welled up with tears again as he glanced between his parents. What had he done in his past life to deserve them?

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The three of them talked softly for another three hours—until Jeongguk’s eyes were starting to droop. His mother sent him up to bed, ruffling his hair.

His father stopped him at the stairs.

“Jeongguk,” he murmured, eyes soft. “I know that there are a lot of things to think about. Your kids, how the separation would work… you’re still an at home dad, right?”

Jeongguk swallowed. He hadn’t thought about that. If he and Heejin separated, he’d have no income.

“Yeah.”

“I know that it can be scary to think about how to handle all of that.” He squeezed his shoulder. “But please be selfish. Follow your heart,” he tapped his chest. “And not your mind.” He flicked his forehead, making Jeongguk whine. He chuckled before pulling him into another hug. “You will be happier following your heart. And all I want is for you to be happy.”

His dad had said something similar at his wedding. He had been the most silent when it came to Jeongguk’s sudden engagement and quick marriage. Jeongguk had been heartbroken—thinking that he didn’t approve until his father had approached him in the waiting room. He had pulled him into a bruising hug, saying the words, “As long as you’re happy, then I’m proud of whatever decision you make.”

Jeongguk had been happy then.

He… he wasn’t happy now.

Notes:

...if you want to, listen to Paper Hearts by Tori Kelly (the song Jungkook did a cover of) and think about Jeongguk and Heejin's relationship. I think that's the way Jeongguk feels about it...

Chapter 4

Notes:

Two songs to listen to if you want to get a musical insight to Jeongguk's trauma.
It's a Shame by One Republic
I Need U [Demo] by BTS

“Good morning.”

Jeongguk blinked. Multiple times. He even rubbed his hands over his eyes to clear them before blinking again. The sight didn’t change.

Jimin smirked at him from the dinner table, a setting of breakfast in front of him. He was wearing worn overalls and a dark t-shirt. His father was wearing the same—something he always wore when he worked on the car.

“Shut your jaw, my little deer.” His mother scolded as she brushed past. “You’ll catch flies.”

Jeongguk did as asked, slowly closing his mouth. He was very aware that he was still in his pajamas and had not taken a brush to his hair.

“...why are you here?”

Jimin giggled as Jeongguk’s mother whirled around, brandishing her spatula. Jeongguk ducked the swing—trained from years of getting smacked lightly over the head.

“Apologize! That’s no way to treat a guest!”

“Sorry,” Jeongguk muttered, feeling phantom pain even though he ducked.

“I did say that I’d see you tomorrow.” Jimin reminded with another laugh.

Jeongguk hummed, preeing at Jimin closer. There was a smear of oil on his cheek. Jeongguk reached for a wet wipe. “Did you work on the car with my dad?”

“Yeah.” Jimin smiled at Junghee as he accepted a bowl of rice. “Changed the oil and fixed some of the wiring issues with the radio- what are you doing?”

Jeongguk raised an eyebrow from where he had raised the towel to Jimin’s cheek. “You have an oil smear?”

Jimin snorted, grabbing it from his hands. “You know I’m not one of your kids, right?”

He rubbed it over his skin, only getting about half of it off his cheek. A grin crept over Jeongguk’s face as Jimin lowered it, frowning up at him. Without asking, he sighed, passing it back over. Jeongguk took it with a chuckle, finishing the job.

Unbeknownst to them, Junghee and Jeongho shared a look, the latter chewing slowly on his spoonful of rice.

Jeongho cleared his throat, grabbing Jeongguk’s attention. “Are your boys up yet?”

“No, I thought I’d let them sleep in just a bit more.” Jeongguk tossed the wipe away, stretching. “Maybe manage to eat before I have to focus on getting them to finish their food.”

“Oh!” Jimin brighted. “Can I feed Jungwon again-”

“Get your own kids.” Junghee grumbled, ruffling Jimin’s hair. “It’s my turn to feed him.”

“But eomma~!” Jimin whined. Jeongguk blinked at the dynamic between Jimin and his own mother. As it turns out, Jimin had been part of his family before he even invited him into it…

“Jeez mom,” Jeongguk snorted, opening the fridge and reaching for the banana milk he knew would be there. “You should have told me that I gained another brother.”

She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t want you to get jealous that he became the favorite child.”

At this, Jimin burst into giggles. He twisted in his chair, grinning evilly.

“Hear that Jeongguk-ah? I’m the favorite.”

Jeongguk leaned back against the counter, sipping from the bottle comfortably. He shrugged. “Hey, I’m the first son to give her grandchildren, so I’m the favorite no matter what she says.”

“Your brother’s wife is pregnant, so I wouldn’t keep saying that.” Jeongho reminded. He paused. “Junghyun, not Jimin.”

“Speaking of partners… Jiminie, anyone special yet?” Junghee sat down at her place, clicking her chopsticks together. Jeongguk sank into the seat next to her, eyeing Jimin curiously. He blushed under the attention, ducking his head.

“...not yet.” He mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. Jeongho placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t feel pressured. You’ll meet them when you meet them.”

It might have been Jeongguk, but Jimin’s eyes looked suspiciously bright.

“I can’t wait for Saturday,” Jeongguk’s mom abruptly changed the subject. She turned to Jeongguk. “We always have dinner with the Parks—Jimin’s family—once a month and you just happen to be visiting during our get together. Ah, speaking of that Jimin-ah do you think Mijeong will mind if we bring the kids along?”

“Not at all,” Jimin smiled. “She’d probably be overjoyed. My brother and his family don’t visit often, so I’m sure she’s a bit deprived.”

“So I’m just expected to pass my kids around to anyone who wants them, huh?” Jeongguk joked, grabbing a bowl of rice for himself.

“Yes.” Three people answered at once. Jeongguk rolled his eyes.

“Speaking of,” Jimin leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm. “How does Friday sound?”

“For what?”

“Lotte World.”

Jeongguk shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve got any other plans.”

“Oh~ did you expect to come with us?” Jimin’s eyes glittered. “I was just asking for Heeseung.”

“With all the jokes you made about kidnapping my children, I don’t think I should let you out of sight with either one of them.” He chewed thoughtfully on some kimchi. “Besides, I want to go to Lotte World too. I’ll pay for my own ticket though.”

Jimin tossed aside his teasing act. “Fine by me, though I could pay for your ticket too-”

“No, I draw the line at paying for Heeseung’s. That’s already more than you should.”

Once again, they were oblivious to the glances shared between the senior couple.

“So I guess I’m watching Jungwon?” Junghee asked innocently. Jeongguk faltered.

“Ah, if you would. I don’t think that I could take him on any of the rides since he’s so small.”

“It’s no issue. That just means I get a day with the cutest little baby.” She sighed.

“That reminds me!” Jimin gasped. He turned his whole body towards Jeongguk, eyes sparking mischievously. “I still haven’t gotten to see a picture of your wife… Heejin was it?”

Tension immediately filled the room, but not because of Jeongguk. He blinked at his parents—they were reacting worse than him, honestly.

It didn’t take Jimin long to read the room. His eyebrows furrowed. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, not at all.” Jeongguk hurried to reassure despite the sinking feeling in his stomach. He fumbled for his phone, coming up empty handed. “Oh, I don’t have my-”

Jeongho set his wallet on the table, opening it up and pulling out a small photo. He passed it to Jimin. “That’s them on their wedding day.”

Jimin took the picture with gentle fingers. Jeongguk leaned over to see what picture it was and his chest immediately felt tight.

The photo had been taken during the best man’s speech, given by their common friend Isaiah. He had gotten all of the jokes out of the way and had been giving a heartfelt speech about how he had never seen two people more in love than Jeongguk and Heejin—he remembered looking at her in that moment, watching her laugh and just feeling so in love…

Where had that gone? He had felt it so strongly then. Why did it disappear?

“Wow,” Jimin breathed, dragging Jeongguk’s attention to him. “Beautiful.”

Jeongguk forcefully shoved back all the tears, chuckling lowly. “Right? I told you she was a goddess… don’t fall for her now.”

“No, I was actually talking about-” Jimin looked up, meeting his eyes. He held his gaze for a moment before tearing it away. He practically lunged across the table to hand the picture back to Jeongguk’s father. “She’s very pretty.”

Confused on what happened, Jeongguk just nodded.

“When did you two get married?”

“Oh, seven years ago. I was nineteen.” Under the table, he rubbed his empty ring finger. It hurt to talk about, but it was… soothing in a way. Telling Jimin about it. “I know that’s young, but we were in love so we didn’t care.”

Maybe they should have waited. Maybe they shouldn’t have let themselves get swept up in the feelings. But if they hadn’t, Jeongguk wouldn’t have the two boys that he adored now.

The thought was comforting.

“We were very surprised,” Junghee chuckled, her tense posture loosening. “We sent our son overseas to get a degree, not a wife.”

“Even more surprised to hear that not even two years later we were getting a grandchild.” Jeongho took his wife’s hand, resting their interlocked fingers on the table. “We were very surprised, considering Jeongguk’s highschool relationships.”

He groaned, watching Jimin’s eyes light up in curiosity. “Please don’t.”

“No, no, I want to hear about this.” Jimin giggled, the sound angelic. Jeongguk was used to describing the man as an angel. His parents thought he was one,  so it was acceptable for him to do the same.

“My little deer was popular—and a heartbreaker,” his mother grinned. “Turned down girls left and right.”

“Okay, no,” If they were going to bring up his past romantic life, he was going to make sure it was told right. “I was already spoken for whenever that happened-”

“I believe his longest relationship lasted three months-”

“That’s because they would always break up with me-!”

“Let’s be honest, Guk.” Jeongho laughed. “It’s because you weren’t a very attentive boyfriend.”

“Appa, I was a teenager.” He stressed, rubbing at his face. At his side, Jimin pressed his hand to his mouth, trying to hide his smile and silent laughter. “Did you expect me to know that ‘I’m fine’ actually meant ‘I’m pissed buy me flowers’?!”

Jimin’s silent giggles turned into laughter as he doubled over and nearly smacked his forehead against the table. Jeongguk continued, wanting to set the story straight.

“I did everything in my knowledgeable power to make my girlfriends happy, including all pampering, cuddles, and ditching my guy friends the second they wanted to do something with me. I made our relationship clear to those around me, and turned down any and all advances when I was taken.” He said firmly. “As for being a heartbreaker, I recognized their feelings, made them aware of mine, but I still gave them a chance. And in some of those cases, I actually went out with them after rejecting them before because I found out that they were fun to be around.”

“You didn’t give all of them a chance,” Jeongho rolled his eyes. “I distinctly remember two or three that you turned down.”

Frustrated, Jeongguk didn’t fix his tone when he spluttered, “Yeah, because they were guys.”

“Oh, Jeongguk don’t say it like that.” His mother admonished. “They were nice boys.”

“Of course they were!” He blinked, wondering why the room was suddenly quieter. “That came out wrong—it wasn’t because they were guys, well, it was but not in that way. I… I like girls?”

There was a snort, and Jeongguk glanced at Jimin. It was then that he realized the room had been quiet because Jimin had stopped laughing. But he was smiling, a hint of relief in his eyes. Relief about what, Jeongguk didn’t know.

“For someone who's married to one, you don’t sound so sure of yourself,” he teased.

Jeongguk opened his mouth—probably to make an embarrassing comment about already going through a sexuality crisis in college, but he was cut off by Heeseung streaking into the room and jumping onto Jeongguk’s lap. He groaned as he was kneed in the stomach and jabbed in the throat, but forced his grimace into a smile as Heeseuing shoved his face into his.

“Dad,” he stressed. “There’s a puppy outside! Can I go play?!”

“Puppy?” Jeongguk questioned, looking up at his parents in confusion.

“Ah, he’s mine.” Jimin raised his hand, smiling sheepishly. “I didn’t have anyone to take care of him for me this time so I asked your parents. I actually came over this morning to get him then got distracted with the car-”

Heeseung, not interested in the explanation, tugged on Jimin’s shirt sleeve. “Can I play with your dog?”

Jeongguk coughed.

“Please.” Heeseung tacked on the end.

Jimin bit his lip, hesitating. “You might want to ask your dad on this one…” At Jeongguk’s confused eyebrow furrow he explained lowly. “He’s well trained, and is a puppy, but Bam is a doberman-”

“You have a doberman?!” Jeongguk’s jaw dropped.

“Y-yes, I promise he is well trained. He won’t hurt Heeseung. Well, he might knock him over because he’s so big, but-”

“Jimin, can I play with your dog?” Jeongguk asked, eyes bright. Heeseung frowned.

“Dad, you forgot to say please. And I asked first.”

“And you forgot hyung.” Jimin muttered, but he was smiling and giggling.

“Please, hyung?” Jeongguk begged, uncaring if he sounded childish.

“Oh, well I suppose…”

That was enough to send Jeongguk scrambling to stand, carrying Heeseung along with him. He was two steps towards the backdoor before his mother’s disapproving huff stopped him. He turned back, eyes wide and shrinking.

“What?”

“You’re in your pajamas Jeongguk.” She rolled her eyes. “And so is your son. He hasn’t even eaten yet—you’re setting a bad example for your sons.”

“Aww, but eommaaaa!”

“Grandmaaaa!”

Jimin threw his head back in laughter as Junghee huffed, “He’s definitely your son.”

---

“So I’m guessing you love dogs?”

Jeongguk looked up at Jimin, cheeks hurting from the force of his smile. Heeseung was currently playing catch with Bam, the big black and brown doberman. He only came up to mid thigh for Jeongguk, making him roughly the same height as Heeseung. It was hard to imagine that Bam was still a puppy—being as big as he was—but Jeongguk knew that they were huge dogs.

“Yeah, I adore them.” He answered, watching Jimin sink down to sit on the porch next to him. Their shoulders brushed, and without thinking, Jeongguk leaned into the contact. “We actually have one at home. Her name is Pepper—she’s a beagle.”

“Aww that’s cute. When did you get her?”

“Heejin got her as a highschool graduation gift,” he smiled. “Best part of our marriage.”

Jimin laughed, shaking his head. “That’s a terrible thing to say.”

“Maybe.” He glanced at him, admiring the way the sunlight made his skin glow. He had great skin. “When did you get Bam?”

“A little over six months ago. He was actually a gift.”

“Oh, okay. Someone just casually gives you a doberman.”

Jimin giggled. “My friends are weird like that. I think Taehyung got jealous that I was always stealing Tannie away from him so he decided to get me my own. It’s even funnier because Tannie is a pomeranian.”

That startled a laugh out of him. “Really? Don’t get me wrong, all dogs are difficult to care for, but doberman’s especially… what made your friend think to get you one?”

“Bit of a long story. The short version is that I just like big dogs.” 

Bam must have heard the Jimin’s voice, because he abandoned Heeseung to trot over, tongue lolling. Jimin giggled as Bam jumped up on him, putting his paws on his shoulders—the only time Jeongguk had seen him exhibit ‘poor’ behavior—and flopping his body over Jimin’s. It was ridiculously cute—like Bam was giving Jimin a big hug. Jimin smoothed a hand down his flank, causing Bam’s tail to wag, slapping Jeongguk’s legs.

“I’ve got the time to hear the long version—if you want to share.” Jeongguk offered as Jimin sent Bam back to Heeseung. Jimin flashed him a smile.

“Well, I got to hear a bit of your relationship drama, so may as well share some of my own… unless that makes you uncomfortable.”

Jeongguk shook his head. “Not at all.”

“Ah, well, I also don’t have relationships that last very long, but this one had been my longest. Almost a year. I found out that they were cheating-” Jeongguk stiffened. “-and kicked them to the curb.” Jimin didn’t give him any time to interject and give condolences—Jeongguk wasn’t sure he even had the strength to, his own pain fresh and raw. “They didn’t like that very much and made a lot of poor choices. Threats, breaking into my apartment, showing up at my work… it got to the point that I had to get a restraining order against them.”

Jeongguk finally found his voice, fingers curling into fists as he looked down at him in horror. “Are you okay? Did she ever hurt you?”

“Nope.” Jimin popped the ‘p’, sounding far too cheerful. “But the possibility scared the shit out of me. Scared the crap out of my friends too. Suddenly I was going to self defense classes with them and going to all of these preventive harm things…” he shook his head. “Taehyung didn’t think it was enough. So one day he showed up on my doorstep with Bam and told me that having an intimidating looking dog would help protect me.”

Jeongguk blinked. Looked at the dog that was currently playing with his son. Looked back at Jimin.

“I know,” he giggled. “He’s so threatening. And he was a tiny puppy at the time, so I was just as skeptical.

Jeongguk grinned. “But I bet he’d protect you in a heartbeat if something happened. Dogs are special like that.”

“They certainly are.”

“He must be really protective of you. Taehyung, that is.” He would never say it, but training a dog for protection on top of self defense classes was a bit excessive. Especially when up against a girl, but he supposed that he couldn't judge or make assumptions. Women were just as capable of harm as men.

“He is,” Jimin’s voice dropped into a loving murmur. “Taehyung’s my soulmate—has been practically the moment we met.”

There was something in Jimin’s voice that made Jeongguk pause. He almost sounded like… he liked him.

Jeongguk pushed away the thought. It was ridiculous.

Even if he did… it was none of Jeongguk’s business.

---

Jimin and Bam stuck around for a few hours, leaving just before lunch. Heeseung babbled about Bam all throughout the meal, not so subtly asking Jeongguk to get him a doberman. Jeongguk would never tell him, but he was all for it  because he wanted one as well. He had reached for his phone multiple times, ready to call Heejin and discuss it despite knowing that she would give him a very firm no.

But every time he remembered that he shouldn’t. That he couldn’t.

It was easy to be around his family. They chased away the sadness and the sorrow—the fear of the future and what would come. But there was an empty space where she should have been. There were thousands of moments throughout the day where he would see something, or someone would say something that he could relate to her and he would be sad all over again.

It was so strange to him that his left hand felt heavier without his wedding ring.

It was the heaviest at night, when he didn’t have the distractions. He would lay his hands over his chest, which was so tight he could hardly breath. At some points, he couldn’t, causing him to curl up in a ball and breath in and out shakily. His mother had told him not to think about it, but how could he not? How could Jeongguk ignore the fact that the decision to tear his family in two was in his hands? How could he ignore that he had chosen to consider it?

He didn’t know what had possessed him that night. It might have been the hurt and pain driving a wedge in his desire to stay with her. He had been lied to and betrayed—he hadn’t had the chance to wrap his head around that when he confronted her. But he couldn’t blame it all on that night. The following week he had still chosen to go to his parents.

I needed time to think, he reminded himself, rolling over and glaring at the ticking clock. But think about what? Whether to divorce his wife or not? Whether to ruin his children’s lives? There was no thinking to be done. The answer was obvious. Jeongguk would stay with her. Despite not… not loving her like he used to, she was his best friend. Their relationship would still be strong, good, and fun. With time Jeongguk would love her again. Their lives would become perfect again.

He would be happy again…

So why am I crying? Jeongguk sobbed, muffling the sound in his pillow. His chest hurt. Pain and longing so thick and heavy it suffocated him. He needed someone here. He needed someone to hold. He could feel the phantom weight of her body against his. He felt the softness of her hair under his chin. She was part of his world… the fact that she wasn’t in his orbit right now…

He couldn't take it anymore.

Jeongguk reached for his phone, dialing the number that had been imprinted in his heart the day she wrote it at the top of his final essay with the promise of having coffee together. He wiped harshly at his eyes, forcing his sobs to the back of his throat before pressing call.

It rang once.

Then he was diverted straight to voicemail.

Jeongguk dropped his phone, heart crashing to the floor. For a full second he was completely numb. 

After that second, everything came back full force, filling him with agonizing pain. It made one thing very clear.

She had ruined their relationship—no matter how long they spent fixing it there would be the stain of her betrayal. Every moment between them would be overshadowed. It would never reach the potential it could have. No matter how much they wanted it. The longing, begging, and pure desire for it to be like the past would never return them to how they were.

Jeongguk would never be truly happy again. Not with her.

It killed him.

Because he knew that he couldn’t go back to her. He couldn’t continue to be in a marriage where he knew that he would never experience true joy with his partner. No, not for himself.

But he could do it for his boys.

He would do it for his boys.

They didn’t deserve to suffer from their parent’s mistakes.

---

Despite crying himself to sleep, Jeongguk woke up feeling oddly rested and at ease. He actually felt a little restless, and quickly changed into workout clothes so that he could go running. He quietly crept downstairs. He would only be gone for twenty minutes—definitely not enough time to go for a full run, but he didn't want to risk his kids waking up and him not being there-

Jeongguk jumped at the figure at the bottom of the stairs, making a high pitched panicked noise.

His father raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.

“Wow, Guk,” he murmured. “I haven’t heard you hit a note that high since you were going through puberty-”

Jeongguk hid his face with his running shoes, ears burning. His dad chuckled, patting him on the back as he continued his path. He opened the door, plucking the paper off of the steps. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yep.”

“If you were going to lie you should have washed your face before you came down.” His father said bluntly, but not unkindly. Jeongguk scrubbed at his cheeks—he hadn’t thought that there would have been evidence left behind. “It’s alright to be struggling, Jeongguk. I just don’t want you to hide it from me.”

“It’s difficult to talk about with you, dad.” He rasped. “Not for lack of wanting, but I just can’t.” 

“I assume it’s the same for your mother then.” He murmured. Jeongguk nodded numbly.

How could he tell his parents that he made the choice to remain married to her, despite knowing that he’d be killing himself in the process? How could he tell his dad—who had specifically asked him to be selfish? He couldn’t tell them all of the pain that he was feeling, how it was beginning to be a constant, chronic weight attached to his chest.

“I’m worried,” he confided, brown eyes shimmering. “I know that you’re trying to be strong for the boys and us, maybe even yourself. But I don’t want you to bottle it up and poison yourself.”

“I’m not.” He lied. “I’m processing it all right now, like eomma told me to. How can I talk to someone about it when I don’t really understand what I’m feeling? I haven’t had the chance to feel.”

Jeongho’s mouth was a thin line, clearly unhappy but understanding of Jeongguk’s explanation. He pulled Jeongguk into a hug, sighing against his hair.

“You’re my little boy,” he murmured. “I want you to be alright. And if you aren’t, well, I want to fix it.”

Jeongguk understood. He had his own children—anytime they cried or were in pain he wished that he could take it from them and put it on himself. It was a universal feeling that parents had.

“Thank you, appa.”

Jeongguk felt his lips press to his temple. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m going to go running. If the boys wake up can you-?”

“You don’t even have to ask.” His dad chuckled, ruffling his hair. “Have fun. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I won’t.”

They both knew that he was lying again, but Jeongho didn’t call him out on it. Before he left, Jeongguk scrubbed at his face, wanting to make sure that all tear tracks were gone. His eyes were still red and puffy, but only someone looking closely would know that he had been crying.

The morning air was crisp and biting. Jeongguk inhaled lungfuls of chilly air, grinning at the feeling. Something that he had to give up when he became a dad was morning runs. He still ran on a treadmill in the gym, but it wasn’t the same. There was a certain type of adrenaline rush he got from feeling the elements around him, such as the breeze playing with his hair and the sun slowly rising at his back.

Jeongguk forgot how pretty Busan was until he was running along the trails, able to focus on the scenery around him. He loved Florida. It was beautiful and green, but there was also city life. In Hoedong-dong, it was rural and open. He didn’t hear cars in his ears or smell the pollution—-the humidity was about the same though. And yet, that was comforting.

He had run for an hour before deciding to head back, cutting through the park. There were more people out and about, breaking the silence that Jeongguk had been able to enjoy. He didn’t mind—his restlessness was taken care of and his mind was a bit more settled.

Or he thought it was settled.

It became a mess of incoherent spluttering when ran past a man doing a routine of stretches and he did a double take, because the man was wearing leggings and had a really good looking-

Holyfreakingshitthat’sJimin.

Jeongguk nearly tripped over his own feet, stumbling to a stop as he blatantly stared. He confirmed that it wasn’t a figment of imagination, yes that was Jimin, standing on one foot as he held his knee to his chest. Face set in concentration, earbuds hanging from his ears, and eyes closed—he was a picture of peacefulness. It made Jeongguk’s stomach twist oddly. What was it with Jimin that made his stomach feel funny?

Jimin must have felt Jeongguk’s eyes, because his fluttered open and he looked right at him.

The air was stolen from Jeongguk’s lungs.

Stolen in laughter. Because the moment Jimin processed that it was Jeongguk watching him, he released his leg so abruptly that he ended up losing his balance. Chuckling, Jeongguk jogged over.

“J-Jeongguk!” Jimin spluttered once he was near. He scrambled to his feet, Jeongguk outstretching a hand to help him. “What are you doing awake so early?”

“Ah, you know. Startling you.” He chuckled, watching red spread over the bridge of Jimin’s nose. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine!” His voice was high, probably from embarrassment. But he also wasn’t looking at him, which was strange. “I- uh- didn’t realize you’d be here.”

Jeongguk didn’t know what to say in response to that. Jimin cleared his throat, finally looking at Jeongguk. Only it seemed to take a while for his eyes to get to Jeongguk’s, lingering on his stomach. Jimin laughed weakly, running a hand through his hair. It was a bit damp with sweat—-Jeongguk knew that his was the same.

“Sorry, you really did startle me.” He grinned up at him, seemingly composed now.

“I’m sorry-”

“No, don’t apologize. It’s nothing to be sorry over.” Jimin waved him off. His eyes trailed his body, making Jeongguk feel warmer than he should—ah no that was just his body being warmed up from his run. “Did you go running?”

“Yep. You?”

“Just a light jog. I’m on a break from work, but I don’t want to get too stiff so…” he shrugged. “Jogging and stretching.”

Jeongguk nodded along, trying to keep his eyes from dropping to Jimin’s legs. The leggings really showed off the definition of his muscles, honed from his dancing. His thighs in particular were really thick—maybe Jeongguk should pick up dancing again.

“Would you like to join me?”

Jeongguk’s eyebrows lifted. “In stretching?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t have to take much time to think about it. He hadn’t stretched before running, so he should stretch down just to cool down.

He probably should have thought about it a bit more, because now he had to deal with Jimin’s teasing.

“Ah, I’m the hyung and yet you can’t do this?”

Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek, glaring up at him. They were in the butterfly position. Jimin’s feet were tucked all the way in, knees pressed against the ground. The best Jeongguk could do was get his feet tucked in, but his knees were sticking up like chickens- er- butterfly wings.

“You dance professionally,” Jeongguk groaned. “I’m an at home dad, my exercise is picking up after my children. The only thing I’m good at is bending over like an old man.”

Jeongguk was quickly understanding that Jimin liked to laugh, because he broke into giggles, eyes scrunching.

“If you’re an old man, what does that make me?”

“Ancient.”

“Yah.” Jimin reached over and shoved one of his knees down, making Jeongguk whimper in pain. He laughed harder at that, flopping over himself. While in the butterfly pose.

“How are you so flexible?” Jeongguk muttered.

“You said it yourself, I’m a professional dancer. Nearly twenty years in contemporary and ballet, fifteen in hip hop, eleven in modern…” Jimin squinted at the sky, oblivious to how slack jawed Jeongguk was. “Oh, I did ballroom and jazz for a year too.”

“Wow,” he breathed. “That’s a lot.”

Jimin pulled himself out of the butterfly position, extending one leg and lowering his body over it. He rested his head on his knee, humming. “My whole life has been dance—it's what I love the most.”

“Were you scared?”

Jimin blinked up at him. “Scared of what?”

“Well, I’m assuming you did dance in college, right?” He nodded. “Were you scared that nothing would come of it? That you would be wasting your time?”

“Almost every day,” he rasped, switching to the other leg. “I was petrified, thinking that I wasn’t good enough—that I’d never be good enough.” He closed his eyes, reminiscing. “But then I’d be in the studio, music playing, body aching and chest heaving… but I would execute the choreography damn near perfectly and I could just breathe.” His eyes opened. “That’s what dancing is to me. It’s breathing. So I couldn’t give up on breathing. And look at me now.”

The way he explained it, Jeongguk felt like he was listening to a fairy tale. And well, Jimin could certainly be the main character with how pretty he was.

“Did you ever dance?”

“Oh, I did, actually.” Jeongguk rubbed at his neck. He had given up on stretching—Jimin was currently in the splits and leaning forward, elbows in the grass as his chin propped up his hand. “I dropped it in college though.”

“Was it because of fear, or…?”

“Nothing like that. I like to dance, but singing and drawing were always higher on my creative list. Between those two I didn’t have the time for it, and then I got married…”

Jimin nodded in understanding, before grinning. “We should dance sometime.”

“Only if we sing together too.” In proper Jeongguk fashion, he turned it into a competition. “I’m confident I can beat you there.”

“I’ll have you know that I have a wonderful voice.” Jimin challenged.

“There’s no doubt about that,” Jimin looked up in surprise. “But whether or not you can hold a tune is a different story.”

“You think my voice is nice?”

There was something about the way that Jimin asked the question that made his heart stutter. He looked unbelievably surprised, lips parted and eyes wide. Jeongguk, for lack of a better reaction, just nodded. Jimin looked down at the ground, fingers curling into the grass.

“...thank you.” He looked so pleased that Jeongguk was hit with the urge to shower him in compliments, maybe to help darken the light flush on his cheeks-

He cleared his throat. “Are you going to be out here every morning?”

“Yeah. At least until I head back to Seoul, but that won’t be until next week.”

Jeongguk’s heart both rose and sank with the news. Now he could offer to exercise with Jimin, but he also hadn't expected him to be going back home so soon. Maybe it was because they had the same schedules up to this point that Jeongguk had expected that to continue. He had even entertained the idea of spending the week he was supposed to be ‘figuring things out’ with Jimin. Looks like it wasn’t going to happen though.

“Would you want to go running with me? Exercising alone isn’t very fun.”

“I’d probably slow you down.” Jimin laughed. “Jogging is a lot different from running.”

“But we could stretch together.”

“You mean I could stretch while you watch me.” He teased, poking at Jeongguk’s knees. He was still in the butterfly position. But it was Jimin’s second set of words that made him flush. It wasn’t his fault that Jimin’s choice of outfit highlighted the best featu-

Woah, where in the world is your mind going?!

“I promise to stretch next time.”

“Hmm,” Jimin regarded him for a few seconds before breaking out into a smile. “Alright, Jeonggukie. Because you’re so desperate.”

“I’m not even going to refute that.” He groaned, falling onto his back and closing his eyes. “Most of my friends back in the States are married women and we spend our outings complaining about our kids and spouses.”

“I doubt you have anything to contribute in those conversations.”

Something tickled his nose and Jeongguk opened his eyes to find Jimin holding up a blade of grass to his face. Jeongguk’s nose scrunched, but he didn’t stop him.

“No, I have plenty to contribute. I love my kids, no doubt about that, but they can be meanaces. And I definitely need a woman’s opinion  on some things that happen with my wife. Ugh, maybe I should have called an emergency meeting before I left-”

Jeongguk bit his tongue, because wow that’s oversharing. He hadn’t meant to let it slip that he was having issues with Heejin… Jimin didn’t need to know any of this. Heck, he probably wasn’t interested. Jeongguk had spent too much time around girls that he had forgotten what to talk about with guys-

“Well, I’m not a woman but maybe I could help?” Jimin tilted his head, still holding the blade of grass. His fingers fiddled with it, twisting and tucking it into a shape. “Sometimes people who aren’t in relationships have the greatest advice for people who are.”

It was startling how tempting it was to tell Jimin everything. While the words got stuck in his throat everytime he thought about discussing it with his parents, the minute Jimin offered, they were at the tip of Jeongguk’s tongue and he had to restrain from releasing them. It was too much—too early. He couldn’t dump all that on Jimin and there was no way that it was appropriate for him to.

But… maybe a little wouldn’t hurt?

“Are you sure?” he murmured, sitting up. It put them closer than before, their faces a few inches from each other. Jeongguk resisted the urge to shift back, not wanting to be weird.

“If you’re comfortable sharing, I’m comfortable listening.”

His parents were absolutely right. Jimin was an angel. Jeongguk would never stop referring to him as one.

But now what was he supposed to say? So my wife and I are considering a divorce because she cheated on me. I’ve made up my mind to stay with her despite knowing it won’t bring me any happiness. Your thoughts? Yeah no, he couldn’t say that. Maybe something that would have to change for the future…?

Jeongguk shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ll share afterall.”

“Oh.” He hid it well, but Jeongguk could see the hurt flickering at the edges of his expression. Guilt coiled in his stomach and he immediately reached out, laying a hand over Jimin’s. His eyes widened in surprise.

“It’s not because I’m uncomfortable,” he murmured. “Honestly it’s a bit scary how easy it is to talk to you—I could probably spill my whole life story to you without even realizing it.” Jimin laughed at that. “But with this… well, I don’t think it would be fair to put all of it on you. I don’t even know where to start…”

Jimin raised an eyebrow. “If you say it like that, it sounds like you have a lot of problems with your wife-” he cut himself off, raising a hand to his mouth, mortified. “Oh gosh. That was kind of awful for me to say-”

“You wouldn’t be wrong.”

It was Jeongguk’s turn to want to raise a hand to his mouth.

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Jeongguk cleared his throat. “Let’s shelve this conversation.”

“Agreed.”

But the tense silence remained. Jeongguk’s brain fought for a topic, and thankfully Jimin found one for them.

“So what time should we meet here tomorrow?”

Jeongguk looked down at his watch, contemplating. “I’ll probably be up by six, so… seven?”

“That’s so early though.” Jimin whined. Jeongguk huffed in laughter.

“The earlier I get up, the more time I have to myself.” He frowned. “Besides, you got up that early today.”

“Today was a special case,” he argued. “I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.”

“Ah, how long have you been up?”

Jimin rubbed at his eyes, making Jeongguk aware that he still had his hand on Jimin’s. He didn’t move it though… It felt natural and nice. Considering the fact that Jimin hadn’t moved it either, Jeongguk figured it was alright.

“Since two- no three a.m.”

The red glaring numbers of the clock from last night burned back in Jeongguk’s memory. That was around the time he had his break down… it would have been nice to talk to Jimin then.

“Next time you’re awake you should call me.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow. “Now, how can I do that when I don’t have your number?” Before Jeongguk could blurt out the nine digits of his phone number, he sighed. “Besides, I could never do that. I would feel bad if I woke you up-”

“Hyung, I’m the father of two kids—I’m used to being woken up in the middle of the night.” He shrugged. “The best conversations happen late at night too.”

Jimin snorted. “Alright, you got me there.”

“I feel like there’s a story behind this.”

“Oh, there definitely is. Back in college my friend, Hobi-hyung would…”

Jeongguk leaned back, watching Jimin tell the story with animated eyes. They ended up staying in the park for another hour, swapping college stories and laughing over their friends' antics.

Throughout the whole thing, Jeongguk didn’t take his hand off of Jimin’s.

Notes:

Yes. I am well aware that Bam is actually Jungkook's dog. But for the purpose of this story, Bam is Jimin's dog.

Chapter 5

Notes:

Sorry for the long wait you guys.

“You’ve improved.”

“Still can’t bend myself in half like you can.” Jeongguk grumbled, glaring at Jimin. He snickered, reaching over to poke at the top of Jeongguk’s grass stained shoe. Jimin sat in the grass in a side split, elbows digging into the ground, chin in his hands. Jeongguk, on the other hand, had both his legs stretched out in front of him, pulling his toes towards his body. It hurt like hell, but at least he could do it. Bam, who Jimin had brought along that morning, rolled around in the grass a few feet away, content.

This was their third day stretching together, not counting the first. Jimin had been surprisingly grumpy the past two mornings, in which Jeongguk learned that he was not a morning person. Seven a.m was in fact, too early for him. Jeongguk offered to change the time, but Jimin waved him off with nothing more than a smile. He quickly learned that Jimin didn’t mind pushing aside his own personal preferences for the people he liked. Well, Jeongguk assumed Jimin liked him. He didn’t seem irritated during any of the times they had hung out together.

“You also, as I have observed, tend not to stretch properly.” Jimin eased himself up, sliding his legs into a criss cross. Jeongguk took that as a sign to relieve his own position, which he did with a groan.

“Now I am, so you can’t ridicule me.” Bam saw them move and bounded over, immediately plopping himself into Jimin’s lap. He giggled, running a hand over his head. Jeongguk smiled at the two of them, leaning over to give Bam his own affection. “So do we have a plan for Lotte World?”

“To get the most time in the park, we probably want to get on the earliest train, so we need to be at the station by eight. What time do you usually get Heeseung to bed?”

“Since we’re on vacation, ten.”

Jimin tilted his head squinting as he did the math in head. “So we’ll need to be out of the park by six p.m, which gives us roughly six hours to mess around.”

“Heeseung will most definitely be exhausted.” Jeongguk sighed happily. “I will have the easiest time getting him to sleep.”

Jimin giggled. “You know, for as much as you say you love your kids, you sure seem happier when they’re not awake.”

“I love them whether they’re awake or asleep. I just know how to appreciate the hours I don’t need to watch them to the fullest.” He lifted his head from Bam’s back, putting it on Jimin’s knee instead. “You’ll understand when you have a wife and kids of your own—alone time is precious.”

Jimin chuckled. “Jeongguk, I’m not ever getting a wife.”

“Don’t say that!” Jeongguk gasped. “Hyung, I know you think you’re old,”—he made an offended noise Jeongguk ignored— “But that doesn’t mean that you should give up hope. You’ll find a beautiful girl who likes kids just as much as you do. Who knows, maybe she’ll be one of the idols you work with.”

Jimin’s smile was slow to take place and seemed a bit… forced to him. “Thank’s Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk was starting to think that he was seriously missing something. Jimin kept making these comments that he thought he understood but Jimin seemed disappointed in his answers. Like it was a code that he failed time and time again to crack.

But if it was really important, Jimin would tell him, right?

“Are you doing anything this evening?”

Jimin’s face scrunched as Bam licked his chin. He pushed him away gently, urging the dog to go run around. “Not really. Why?”

“Do you want to come over and watch a movie? My parents and I used to always do Thursday evening movie nights because my dad always had the day off.” He grinned. “I thought it would be something fun to introduce to the boys while we’re here. Might continue it at home if they like it.”

It would be a good way to cement more time together as a family—Jeongguk would insist that Heejin ask for Thursday evenings off. It might repair some of the frayed edges of their relationship…

“Sure,” he paused. “Actually, what time?”

“Around seven. It would be enough time for one movie for the boys and then after they go to bed us adults can watch something a bit more risque.” He wiggled his eyebrows, making Jimin laugh.

“And what would you consider to be risque?” Jimin challenged, a glint in his eyes that Jeongguk didn’t think he'd seen before.

“Uh, I don’t know. Dirty Dancing?”

“You’re such a parent.” He reached out, poking Jeongguk in the cheek and making him scowl. “Come on Jeonggukie, that’s such an innocent movie.”

He pouted. “Then what were you thinking?”

“Fifty Shades of Grey,” was his immediate response and Jeongguk choked on nothing, coughing violently. Jimin threw his head back in laughter, flopping back in the grass. He writhed with giggles while Jeongguk tried to get his face under control. He swore he had gone through the five stages of grief in that one moment.

“Holy shit, Jimin,” he croaked, burying his face in his hands. “That was not what I was expecting you to say at all.”

“It’s Jimin hyung,” he corrected, popping back out of the grass. Jeongguk peeked at him through his fingers. “And it was worth it—the look on your face.”

Jeongguk lowered his hands grimacing. “I will never forget when I was introduced to that movie. My friend Isaiah and I were on a double blind date. They were doing a special showing of it in the theaters—the girls said they wanted to see it.”

“Jeongguk, no.” Jimin gasped, eyes widening and lips trembling.

“We had no idea what we were walking into.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Scarred for life.”

Jimin snorted. “I don’t know what to be more impressed by, the fact that you stayed through the whole movie or that you didn’t know what it was in the first place.”

“I don’t typically pay attention to fan-fiction turned book turned movie things,” he huffed. “All I know is that I’m never watching it again. Especially not with my parents in the room.” He shuddered at the thought.

“It’s alright Jeongguk-ah, I’m not particularly fond of the movie either.” He chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. “How about we pick a movie with your parents? That way everyone’s happy.”

“We’re going to end up watching Legally Blonde.” Jeongguk already knew. It was the movie his dad always wanted to watch and because his mom was a sap, she’d always agree. He was outvoted every time.

Jimin shrugged. “I could watch a movie with Luke Wilson.”

“He’s not too bad on the eyes,” Jeongguk said thoughtlessly. Jimin’s eyes snapped to him, wide and surprised. Jeongguk fumbled, face heating. “I mean, in an objective sense. Because objectively, he’s attractive. According to other people. Yeah.”

“Right,” Jimin breathed, looking away. Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek, watching him. It looked like he was trying to figure something out, like Jeongguk’s words were a puzzle to him. He physically shook his head, eyes clearing. He cleared his throat. “Well, I should actually get going. I’ve got to catch the KTX to Seoul.”

Jeongguk’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh, then I shouldn’t keep you. Though, I thought you were on vacation…?”

“Meeting up with my friends,” he explained with a fond smile. “Most of them are pretty busy so when we’re all free we never miss an opportunity to get together.”

“That sounds nice.” Jeongguk smiled, ignoring the ping of envy in his chest. He didn’t see his friends from college much anymore—hadn’t really since he became a full time dad.

Jimin peered at him thoughtfully. “You can come, if you’d like. I’m sure they’d love to meet you-”

Jeongguk immediately waved his hands in protest. “Oh no, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You wouldn’t be intruding.” He said softly. “I think you’d fit right in—we clicked together pretty fast so I’m sure you’d do the same with everyone else.”

It was a tempting offer, one that he didn’t want to refuse. Sure, the idea of going into a social situation with people he didn’t know wasn’t ideal, but Jimin would be there. And Jimin made things easier.

Confused by the warmth in his chest, Jeongguk flashed him a grateful smile. “Thanks hyung, but I think I’ll sit this one out. I don’t think my kids would forgive me if I was gone for too long.”

“Having kids doesn’t mean that you can’t go out and have fun,” he pointed out gently. Jeongguk opened his mouth to protest, but Jimin just shook his head with a small smile. “But I can respect your decision.”

He relaxed. “Thank you, hyung.”

“No worries,” he got to his feet. “But if I invite you out again, don’t turn me down.”

He reached down, small hand clapping around Jeongguk’s wrist as he helped him up. Stronger than he was expecting, Jeongguk ended up bumping chests with him. Their close proximity made him strangely nervous, stomach flipping at the fact that Jimin had to tilt his head up to keep eye contact. His eye smile was a bit dangerous, fueled by the smirk on his lips.

“You were, after all, the one who wanted to hang out.”

He didn’t know why his mouth was suddenly dry. Jimin’s eyes flickered down—just a brief second—before snapping back up with a flash of guilt and panic. He stepped away, letting his fingers fall from Jeongguk’s skin.

“So seven?”

The bright, cheery voice was a large contrast to the teasing murmur. Jeongguk felt like he had experienced whiplash, and it took him a moment to understand what Jimin was referring to.

“Yeah, seven,” he forced out.

“I’ll be there. Might be a little late though,” he laughed. “I always am no matter how early I leave.”

Jeongguk chuckled. “Does that mean you’re going to be late to your meeting with friends?”

“Probably.” Jimin grinned before calling Bam over. “I’ll see you tonight, Jeongguk-ah.”

“See you later.”

Jeongguk watched as Jimin walked away with Bam, the loyal dog sticking close to his side. Distracted, his mind returned to that earlier moment. He didn’t know what had happened to make Jimin display those emotions. Despite trying to understand for a few more minutes, Jeongguk gave up. How was he supposed to know Jimin’s thoughts?

---

“Dad, I wanna talk to mom.”

It was an innocent request, one that shouldn’t cause panic to grab him in a vice grip, but it still did. For a few seconds, Jeongguk could only stare down at Heeseung, crayon clutched tightly in his hand. He set down the coloring object slowly, swallowing back the lump in his throat. He glanced at the time, mentally doing the math—Heejin would probably be awake and getting up for work.

“Sure buddy,” he managed. “We can try, but you have to remember that there’s a time difference. Mom might not answer.”

Heeseung pouted, the excitement in his eyes dimming. “She won’t answer?”

“It’s not that she won’t.” He hurried to reassure, but he knew that it was useless to pick his mood back up unless he heard Heejin’s voice himself. Sighing, Jeongguk got up to go find one of his parents.

He found his dad in the kitchen, sticking his finger into a batch of brownie batter. He looked up in alarm when Jeongguk entered, freezing like a deer caught in headlights. Jeongguk crossed his arms, raising one eyebrow.

“...don’t say anything to your mother.”

“I won’t say a word.” Jeongguk promised. He lost count of how many times his father had caught him doing the same thing when he was younger. “Can I borrow your phone? Heeseung wants to talk to Heejin.”

“What happened to your phone?”

Jeongguk smiled sourly. “Nothing. She blocked me.”

Jeongho’s mouth dropped open in shock before anger flickered over his face. “She blocked you? Why in the world would she-?”

“I have no idea.” 

No, that was a lie. He knew. He hadn’t told his parents that Heejin had basically told him that he could break his vows during his little ‘vacation.’ He hadn’t told them that she told him to erase her from his memory. Heejin knew him better than he knew himself sometimes. She had blocked him so that he couldn’t call her and try to keep that connection alive. She wanted to sever it completely for two weeks—in her mind that was helping.

But you couldn’t erase memories.

You couldn’t ignore feelings.

For the past two days he had picked up his phone multiple times with the intent to call her and talk about what was going on, but all of his calls would ring once before going to voicemail. He had left one, telling her to unblock him so they could talk, but because he was still blocked, he knew that she had ignored him. It frustrated him to no end.

“My phone’s on the table.” His father finally muttered, glowering at the brownie batter bowl. He grabbed a spatula, scraping the contents into the pan. Maybe it was a bad thing to feel validated that his dad was showing the same frustration that he felt, but Jeongguk allowed himself to accept this one.

“Thanks dad.”

He swiped the phone up, dialing the number without hesitation. That didn’t mean that his heart wasn’t in his throat. Maybe Heejin would ignore a call from her father-in-law too. Maybe-

The line clicked, signaling that that call went through. A second later, Heejin's hesitant, panic edged voice filled Jeongguk’s ear.

“H-hey dad! You don’t usually call. What-”

“I would have accepted the fact that you blocked me if that didn’t mean that you blocked my way of contacting you when Heeseung wants to talk to you.” Jeongguk interrupted, his tone surprisingly even. Even though he couldn’t see her, the audible sigh of relief filled his mind with her shoulders sagging and lips quirking up into a smile.

“Sorry. I thought it would be easier-”

“I know your reasons. I don’t agree with them.” He said lowly. “But I’ll respect your wishes and just hand you over to Heeseung.” He shifted into the living room, smiling when Heeseung looked up with wide eyes.

“Is that mom?!” He gasped.

“Yeah bud.” Jeongguk glanced up at the time. It was seven, but true to Jimin’s words, he was late. Hopefully Heeseung would be done by the time Jimin arrived.

“Hold on! Give me a second!” The panic had returned to her voice. Jeongguk frowned as he heard a door open and close, like she left a room. It was far too early for her to be at work though. “Okay, you can hand me over now.”

Jeongguk lowered the phone, passing it over to Heeseung. But not before putting it on speaker. He excitedly started babbling into the phone. Jeongguk couldn’t hear what he was saying though, his mind whirling as he sat down on the couch. He blankly watched Jungwon stack blocks, already so meticulous with the placement.

He could understand her panic with the initial call—she wouldn’t have expected him not to tell his parents what happened. She had been expecting some sort of backlash, which cemented the fact that she didn’t know his parents very well. But after that? There was no reason for her to tell him to wait while she left a room-

Unless there had been someone with her.

Jeongguk set his jaw, glancing back at Heeseung.

“-and tomorrow, I’m going to Lotte World!”

“Lotte World! Wow that sounds like so much fun my little guy. Your dad is spoiling you.”

“Dad’s not taking me. Uncle Jiminie is!”

Heejin was quiet for a moment. “Uncle Jiminie? Do you mean Junghyun?”

“No?” Heejin pouted. “Uncle Jiminie. Who is Junghyun?”

Jeongguk chuckled quietly to himself, a brief relief from the anger that lined his clenched fists.

“Junghyun is your dad’s older brother… where did you meet Uncle Jiminie?”

“On the plane! He let me sit by the window and then he went with us all the way to grandma and grandpa’s house. He’s grandma and grandpa’s neigh-bor.” He sounded out the word carefully. “Oh! He has a big puppy mom! His name is Bam! He’s a- what was he again dad?”

“A doberman.”

“A doberman! He was as big as me!”

“I-I see.”

“Uncle Jiminie is really pretty too!” Heeseung looked over at Jeongguk. “Right dad?!”

Jeongguk’s eyes widened in shock. “Uh- well I- he-”

“If your dad’s stuttering he must be.” Heejin muttered. There was no mistaking the bitterness in her voice. Jeongguk grit his teeth, unable to stop the growl.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“...nothing.”

“It doesn’t sound like nothing-”

“Jeongguk, don’t pick a fight with me right now. You don’t have to get so defensive over one little comment!”

“It wasn’t the comment!” He snapped. “I’ll admit all day and any day that Jimin is pretty—no, what bothered me was the bitterness in your voice. Like you have any right-”

“Uhm.”

Jeongguk’s head snapped up, body going stone cold the second he caught sight of Jimin with his mother at the edge of the room. Jimin’s cheeks were flushed red as he stared at Jeongguk, bottom lip caught between his teeth. His mother’s own eyes were wide, lips parted in a gasp.

Heejin hadn’t heard him.

“Don’t even start, Jeongguk. We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you-”

Even with an audience, Jeongguk couldn’t let that stand.

“Don’t you even dare tell me I’m doing something wrong by calling someone pretty,” he snapped. “Especially after what you said to me before I left.”

“Jeongguk, take the conversation upstairs or don’t finish it at all.” His mother hissed, cutting off whatever response Heejin was making. Jimin shifted at her side, clearly uncomfortable.

Any other time Jeongguk would be embarrassed and try to shove himself in the nearest trash can, but anger was still flowing through his blood, liquid hot. He reached for the phone.

“I didn't get to finish telling mom about Bam.” Heeseung whined, his eyes growing glassy. Jeongguk’s anger ebbed at the sight of his son tearing up. He sighed heavily.

“Heejin,” he murmured. “Talk with Heeseung a bit more please.”

He didn’t wait to hear her response, getting up off the couch. He ignored the eyes on him, marching straight to the back door. He ripped it open, stepping out into the cooling night.

Jeongguk plopped down at the edge of the porch, releasing the breath that he had been holding. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes.

That had been so stupid of him.

How could he have gotten into an argument with her so quickly? In the presence of his kids too. His mom had been there—his dad was just in the other room… Jimin.

Jeongguk buried his face in his hands, exhaling shakily. He was such a fool. A reckless, idiodic-

The door opened, and Jeongguk groaned, not even lifting his head.

“Mom, I love you, but give me at least five minutes to accept the fact that I screwed up.”

“I’m not your mom.”

Jimin’s quiet voice carried easily across the silent night. Jeongguk lifted his head, looking at him over his shoulder. Jimin had one hand on the door behind him, eyes somewhere on Jeongguk’s shoulder instead of actively looking at him. His lip was still caught between his teeth—something Jeongguk guessed was a nervous habit.

“I didn’t mean to… disturb you.” He murmured. “I just figured it wasn’t right for me to stay in the room while Heeseung talked with her…”

“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk sighed. “I didn’t mean to put you in that position.”

He waited for Jimin to shrug and smile, for him to say it was okay, but it didn’t come. Jimin’s eyes shifted to the ground, shoulders tight. Jeongguk’s stomach churned—it wasn’t okay. Jimin was upset.

“You’re upset.”

Jimin pursed his lips. “Yeah.”

“I’m really sorry.” Jeongguk dragged a hand through his hair. “Heeseung said that you were pretty and then he asked me-”

“I’m not mad that you complimented me.” Jimin tilted his chin up, voice steady, but disappointed. Jeongguk swallowed. “I’m mad that you used it as a weapon against your wife as a way to get back at her for something.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Doing that not only turns it into a backhanded compliment, but it also makes me uncomfortable and upset because I’ve now become a point of contention between the two of you.” He sighed heavily. “So much for being able to show up on your doorstep without it being awkward.”

In any other conversation it would have been funny, but neither of them laughed. Jeongguk twisted his fingers, emotion building up behind his eyes. He hurriedly looked down, not wanting Jimin to see his expression faltering.

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to.” The words were wet. “I never meant to pull you into my family drama. Especially not like that, where I hurt you. That’s unfair and-and cruel.”

There was a light touch on his shoulder. He startled, eyes shooting up. Jimin crouched beside him. He searched his face, worrying into his lip.

“I know you didn’t mean to. Emotions were high—people say things without thinking in those situations all the time.” His hand slipped off his shoulder as he sat down next to him. Their arms pressed together, the touch comforting. “I forgive you.”

Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek, guilt eating away at him even with Jimin’s forgiveness.

Neither of them spoke for a few moments. The quietness of the night helped quell the anger, frustration, and embarrassment that he felt. It helped to have Jimin next to him, a constant comfort. He was lucky to have someone removed from the situation. Jimin could see his faults and call him out on those. It was funny, Jeongguk had expected that from his parents, but they had been so quick to take his side.

“Can I-” Jeongguk looked over at Jimin. He had his head tilted up, eyes on the sky. His cheeks puffed cutely with air before he released it slowly. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Yeah.”

“The reason you came to South Korea… it’s because you and Heejin are fighting, isn’t it?”

His ring finger burned.

“Yes.”

“...it’s not a typical fight, is it?”

Jeongguk laughed bitterly, blinking back harsh tears. “She doesn’t think I love her.”

And that was the issue wasn't it? It was the cause of all of this. It was the reason she cheated—the reason he had even considered divorce. Because he didn’t love her.

“You’re proving her right.”

His head snapped to Jimin in shock. He stared back, unmoved.

“Think about it, Jeongguk. You’re thousands of miles away from her right now. Instead of reassuring her and showing her that you do in fact love her, you’re here. Hurting and angry. You’re making the chasm deeper than it needs to be.”

Oh he wished it was that simple. This was one corner of a darker picture. One that he still didn’t feel right sharing.

“Hyung, if it was just a matter of reassurance, I wouldn’t be here.” He rasped. “I really wouldn’t. It’s a lot more complicated than that.”

“How?” He demanded quietly. “Explain and maybe I’ll understand-”

He couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“She was right.”

Jimin’s eyes widened. Jeongguk’s lower lip wobbled.

“I told her that she’s right. I still love her, but I don’t… I don’t love her like I used to. It’s all platonic now.” The words tumbled out of his mouth, unable to be stopped. “I don’t know what happened. It’s not like I wanted to stop- no, that’s the last thing I want. I loved her so much that it physically hurt sometimes-” he clutched at his shirt, feeling that pain now. But not the same kind of pain. The pain of having an empty void where his love for her used to be. “-but now I don’t and I don’t know what to do.”

“But you- the way you talk about her and that… Jeongguk that wedding photo. How could you not-?”

“I don’t know.” Jeongguk choked on a sob, he pressed his hands to his eyes. “I just stopped. And I don’t know how or why or even how to start again.”

Jimin was silent.

He shifted, their arms brushing as he stood and stepped off the porch. Panic grasped Jeongguk—he had made him even more upset. He should have kept it to himself-

Jimin, standing in front of him, leaned down to pull him into a hug. Jeongguk’s breath stuttered in surprise and a gasp. Jimin guided his head to his shoulder, cheek pressing against his hair.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’ll figure it out. And I’ll be right here if you need any help. If you need someone to talk to, to rant to… to cry with. I’m right here.”

Jeongguk crumpled. He threw his arms around Jimin, burying his face into his shoulder. He wailed, uncaring of judgment or admonishment. Jimin just pulled him closer, one hand reaching up to card through his hair.

Every time Jeongguk cried, it didn’t do anything to relieve the pain and pressure in his chest.

As Jimin held him, comforting him, Jeongguk felt it start to fade.

He had always thought that he needed someone to hold to start to feel okay.

Maybe he was the one that needed to be held.

Notes:

...chapter count is most likely going to go up.
Ughhhhhhhhhh I need to stop writing fluffy scenes between Jimin and Jeongguk because that's what's causing this.

Chapter 6

Jeongguk rubbed at his eyes, wishing that his headache would go away faster. They had stayed up way too late last night watching movies. It didn’t help that Heeseung was being loud, too excited to be tamed.

“I blame you,” he hissed at Jimin.

“Oh come on,” he laughed. “He’s excited. You can’t be mad at him for that.”

“If you never mentioned Lotte World in the first place, we wouldn’t be going and then he wouldn’t be this excited.” He groaned, flopping his head on Jimin’s shoulder.

“I distinctly remember someone saying that they wanted to go to Lotte World too,” Jimin tapped his chin, humming in thought. His brown eyes shone as he looked down at Jeongguk. “Oh look. There he is.”

“Shush.”

“Speak formally, Jeonggukie. I’m your hyung.”

“Shush, Jimin-ah.”

Jeongguk yelped as Jimin pinched his thigh, drawing multiple eyes in the KTX to them. Jeongguk ducked his head, ears burning while Jimin smirked.

“Daddy, you’re loud.” Heeseung’s nose scrunched, being completely hypocritical since he had been humming the Lotte World theme as loud as he could seconds earlier.

“Yeah, Jeongguk, be quiet.” Jimin snickered. Jeongguk shoved his shoulder, making him laugh as he flopped against the side of the train.

“Dad! Why are you being so mean to Uncle Jiminie!” Heeseung pouted, his cheeks puffing. Jeongguk pouted right back.

“Jiminie is being mean to dad!”

“Jiminie -hyung.”

“Yeah. That’s what I said.”

“You’re being brat.” Jimin huffed, sitting up. “Should have left you at home.” Jeongguk grinned. This was fun. How much more could he push Jimin’s buttons?

“Hyung, I've been meaning to ask. Will they even let you get on half the rides? You’re a bit short-”

Apparently not much more.

Jimin reached for his shirt, but Jeongguk grabbed his hands, giggling. “What was that Jeongguk-ah? You want me to strangle you to death? Hmm?”

“Please, your hands wouldn’t even fit around my neck.” Jeongguk grinned, spreading Jimin’s fingers with his. He could bend the tips over Jimin’s fingers without shifting his hand at all. He smiled at the size of Jimin’s pinky, smoothing his over the tiny mole there.

“Dad, I want to see.” Heeseung got up from his seat, climbing onto Jimin’s lap. Jeongguk lowered their hands, blinking at the red flush over the back of Jimin’s. Glancing up, his stomach twisted in the presence of pink cheeks. Jimin wasn’t looking at him, eyes on their still linked hands. Which were pulled apart by Heeseung.

Jimin chuckled as Heeseung put his hand up against his first. Jimin had small hands, but compared to a child’s they were huge. Heeseung frowned at the sight, then turned to Jeongguk. He obligingly held up his hand, heart melting at the gentle way Heeseung fit his hand against his. His frown deepened.

“My hands are small.”

“They won’t be that way forever,” Jimin reassured, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “You’re going to grow and then have bigger hands than me.”

“Really?!”

“Absolutely.”

Jeongguk felt so warm, watching Jimin interact with his son. He already knew, but it still surprised him everytime that Jimin was so good with kids.

“You’d be a good dad.”

Jimin looked up, mouth parting in shock. Jeongguk could only smile.

“Whoever you end up marrying, they’d be a very lucky woman.”

It was a compliment, but Jimin’s face fell. Jeongguk watched with concern as Jimin forced a smile. The atmosphere suddenly felt like the one time on the plane- no, this was the same thing from the park.

“Thank you.”

Jeongguk opened his mouth to apologize and ask what he said wrong, but he was interrupted by the train pulling into the station. Heeseung leapt to his feet, letting out a squeal of excitement.

“To Lotte World!” He cheered, making Jimin throw his head back in laughter. Jeongguk smiled, letting the moment slip past.

He would ask later.

---

He was hardcore pouting and he knew it. He pulled a page out of his kids book, sullenly looking down at the ground with his arms crossed. Occasionally he would look up, and if he made eye contact with him, he would just pout harder. Everytime it happened Jimin would roll his eyes and continue to ignore him, focusing on Heeseung, whose neck would be sore by the end of the day if he kept whipping it around in an effort to see everything and anything at once.

Lotte World was predictably busy since it was the weekend, but they were there early enough that the lines weren’t outrageously long. And if they got unbearable, well, Jimin had spent an exhausting amount of money getting magic passes for all of them, up to ten attractions.

Oh yeah. And he had purchased Jeongguk’s ticket.

Which he asked him explicitly not to do.

He had winced at the sight of the line at the ticket booth, cursing himself for not being smart and buying the tickets earlier, but Jimin had shouldered off his bag and whipped out three premium passess, handing one to Jeongguk with a sly grin.

“Uncle Jiminie! Let’s ride that one!” Heeseung shrieked, pointing up at the gyro drop. Jeongguk chuckled—his kid was as much of a thrill seeker as he was.

“I think you’re too small for that one,” Jimin frowned. He slid his bag around, unzipping it and pulling out a sheet of paper. Unfolding it, he squinted at it for a second before sighing. “Yeah, Heeseung, we can’t ride that one.”

He didn’t seem upset at all, instead pointing to another one. “What about that one?”

“...too small.”

“That one?”

Jimin bit his lip, trying not to laugh. “If you were twenty centimeters taller…”

Heeseung pouted, matching Jeongguk’s mood. Jimin glanced between the two of them, facial expression twitching. “Oh come on. Don’t make me have to deal with two pouting babies.”

“What can I ride then?” Heeseung grumbled.

“That.” Jimin pointed to a water ride, then shifted to the indoor portion. “And most everything in there.”

“Let’s ride that!” Heeseuing grabbed Jimin’s hand, dragging him over to the water ride. It made Jeongguk pout even more—his own kid had forgotten about him.

“Wait, wait!” Jimin giggled. “We’re leaving your dad behind!” He forced Heeseung to stop, turning back and grinning brightly at Jeongguk. He outstretched a hand, wiggling his fingers. “Come on, Jeonggukie.”

How could he stay mad after that?

A smile twitched onto his face as he set his hand in Jimin’s. His heart skipped as Jimin’s smile widened, turning so fond and soft….

“There’s a smile.” He murmured, eyes shining.

Jeongguk didn’t know why he was holding his breath.

“Dadddd, Uncleeee lets gooooo.” Heeseung whined, tugging at Jimin’s hand. They both laughed, Jimin’s hand falling from Jeongguk’s. He immediately grabbed it again. Jimin looked up at him in surprise. He fumbled for an explanation, not knowing why he did it either.

“Uh, to help us stick together,” he explained weakly. The park wasn’t that crowded yet.

“A-alright.” Jimin looked away, cheeks a little red. Jeongguk’s eyes widened, gasping.

“Sunscreen!” He nearly shouted, scrambling for his bag. “Heeseung come here, we don’t want you to burn.”

The whining was expected, as was the complaining about the cold. Jeongguk hushed him, mind whirling with worries about skin cancer and horrible sunburns. They quieted when Heeseung’s face had been coated appropriately. Jeongguk rose out of his crouch, turning the bottle on Jimin. He lifted an eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

“You’re a backup dancer for idol groups,” he argued, putting a big dollop on his fingers. “You can’t have skin damage.”

He advanced with the sunscreen, frowning when Jimin pushed his hand away, laughing. “I can do it myself.”

“And what? Miss a spot? Then you’ll have a random red splotch on your face and that’s even worse!”

“Jeongguk,” he giggled. “Your mind is so weird.”

“Yeah, whatever, get your face over here.”

Rolling his eyes, he obliged. Jeongguk gently started to spread the sunscreen over his face, snickering when Jimin startled at the initial touch. But he stopped laughing as he continued. Really, it was unfair. Jimin had great skin. He didn’t have any acne scars like Jeongguk did, and his skin glowed healthily. It was clear that he took good care of himself. His skin was soft, too, especially his cheeks-

“Jeongguk, are you done?”

He startled, tearing his hand away from Jimin’s face. “Y-yep!”

He grinned evilly, eyes glinting.

“Your turn.”

“I don’t burn,” Jeongguk lied, laughing nervously. “I don’t need it-”

“Even if you don’t burn, it’s important to protect your skin.” Jimin nudged Heeseung. “Right buddy?”

It was terrifying how much Heeseung’s grin matched Jimin’s. “Right.”

“Hand over the bottle.”

Grimacing, he did so. He internally groaned when Jimin instructed Heeseung to hold out his hands. He should have known that Jimin would give him the honors. Crouching, he winced as Heeseung slapped his hands onto his face, giggling as he poorly spread it over his skin. By the time he announced he was done, Jeongguk felt like his face had been scrubbed and then someone didn’t wash off the bubbles. Jimin doubled over himself in laughter, honest to goodness tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Laugh all you want.” Jeongguk grumbled. “I’m not going to be as nice to you next time.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he wiped at his eyes. With laughter shaking hands, he reached up, fingers skimming over Jeongguk’s face. He gently rubbed the sunscreen in, still quivering with mirth. The silver rings on his fingers were cool against his skin, a familiar and comforting touch. One of Heejin’s biggest signs of affection was holding his face-

Jeongguk squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shove the memory away. Jimin’s fingers stilled.

“Jeongguk? Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he rasped, pulling away. “Did you get all of it?”

“There’s one more spot.” Jimin reached up.

And flicked his forehead.

Jeongguk winced in pain, rubbing the spot and glaring up at him in betrayal. He smirked, twirling away and grabbing Heeseung.

“Let’s go!”

“Finally!”

He shook his head, grinning before striding after them. He was going to have fun. Go on rides with Jimin and Heeseung. They were going to have a wonderful time.

He was not going to think of Heejin.

---

“Can I go on that one?!” Heeseung was buzzing with energy. They had been in the park for three hours now, and Jeongguk didn’t know how he was still going.

Jimin had been smart once again, and had made a list of all the rides Heeseung could get on so they wouldn’t have to check the height requirements. Or worse, wait in line and then be turned away at the gate. Jeongguk was impressed with his planning—he had always been the type to go with the flow. He learned pretty quickly that when you had kids, you needed a plan.

Jimin peered up at the ride, biting his lip nervously. Jeongguk tilted his head at the reaction.

“Well. You can.” He offered hesitantly. “But maybe you should ride that one later-”

“I want to ride it now!” He cheered, grabbing Jimin and Jeongguk’s hands. He tried pulling them forward, but Jimin planted his feet. He chewed on his bottom lip.

“The uh. The lines are a bit long.” He explained, face twisting. “Why don’t we wait to see if it goes down-”

“It allows a magic pass.” Jeongguk pointed out. “We wouldn’t have to wait long at all.”

Jimin shot Jeongguk a panicked look, which turned into a glare as Heeseung shouted. “Yeah! Let’s go.”

“I think I’ll sit this one out.” He smiled passively. “Maybe get us all some food-?”

“But Uncle.” Heeseung stared up at him with wide doe eyes. “I want to ride it with you.”

Jeongguk knew that Jimin was trapped. Ensnared by the same look that made Jeongguk cave so many times. He couldn't say no, even if he wanted to.

“...alright.” he caved. Heeseung immediately cheered, wrapping his arms around Jimin’s leg in a hug. Then he was off, dragging Jeongguk along with him. Jimin followed at a much more subdued pace, looking up at the ride with trepidation.

Oh. He was scared.

Jeongguk didn’t know why he hadn’t seen it. Jimin hadn’t seemed bothered by any of the other rides they went on. Though, they were kid friendly. Now that he thought about it, before they plunged down on the flume ride Jimin had tensed, grip going knuckle white on the railing. But he had laughed so happily afterwards that Jeongguk didn’t think much of it…

But now as they boarded the pirate ship, it was clear on Jimin’s face that he didn’t like this at all. He was pale, and kept twisting the rings on his fingers. His lips pressed into a thin line when Heeseung insisted on sitting at the top when he overheard someone say it was faster. Usually they put Heeseung between them on rides, but this time Jeongguk nudged Heeseung onto the ride first. Jimin sat down hesitantly beside him, cringing.

Jeongguk leaned over, mouth near Jimin’s ear.

“You don’t have to ride this if you don’t want to.” He murmured. “I can handle Heeseung—you still have time to get off.”

Jimin bit his lip, hard enough that Jeongguk thought he would draw blood. He shook his head, smiling weakly.

“No, I’m fine. He asked me to.”

His heart melted. It was such a silly thing, something that Heeseung would get over in seconds, but Jimin still wanted to do it for him. He was once again reminded of how amazing Jimin was.

It took only a few minutes, but the ride shifted, making Jimin tense. He inhaled and exhaled in forced measures, only deepening Jeongguk’s concern. Heeseung tugged on his sleeve excitedly, but Jeongguk ignored him, focused on Jimin’s pale face. His eyes squeezed shut as the pace picked up.

Jeongguk grabbed his hand, wincing when Jimin immediately squeezed hard enough to drain the blood out of his skin. It shouldn’t have been funny when Jimin started cursing under his breath, but he couldn’t help but laugh.

The ride was a blur of creative expletives and high pitched screaming in his ear. When the ride started to slow, Jeongguk looked over at Jimin. He looked exhausted and was alarmingly white. Heeseung loved it of course, repeatedly exclaiming how much fun it was. Jeongguk half tuned him out, too concerned about Jimin.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“Jimin-”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, closing his eyes. “I’ll be even better when I get off of this thing.”

He was obviously lying, because when it got to them to get off of the ride, within seconds of standing, his knees buckled. Jeongguk immediately grabbed him, heart rate shooting up in panic.

“Hyung?”

Jimin blinked up at him, eyes unfocused. Jeongguk’s stomach churned. Had he just passed out? 

“Sorry,” he tried to smile. “I guess I stood up too fast-”

“Don’t,” Jeongguk growled. His grip on Jimin tightened, an arm around his waist and a hand on his arm. “Don’t lie to me.”

Jimin swallowed. “Sorry.”

Jeongguk closed his eyes. He was being too harsh. But Jimin shouldn’t have pushed himself if this was his limit.

“Lean on me,” he instructed.

“Jeongguk-”

With a glare, Jimin’s mouth snapped shut. He slid an arm around Jeongguk’s back, weakly holding on. Then he seemed to let go of his reservations, completely turning his face into his shoulder and breathing out shakily against his neck. Jeongguk led him off of the ride, heart thumping in his chest. From fear, panic, or worry, he didn’t know.

“Dad, dad, dad,” Heeseung babbled. “Can we go again? That was so much fun!”

“No, Heeseung.” He said evenly, glancing down at Jimin’s nauseous face. “We’re taking a break from rides.”

“Aww but dad-!”

“I said, no, Heeseung.” He repeated sternly. Jimin’s head lifted slightly.

“Jeongguk-”

“No, Jimin.” Jeongguk wasn’t going to let him talk him into this, not when he was clearly not feeling good after that. He had passed out for goodness sakes!

He led them over to the nearest unoccupied bench, easing Jimin down onto it. Heeseung hopped up next to him, face pinched in concern. He had finally realized that Jimin wasn’t doing well.

Jeongguk, crouched in front of them, handed over a bottle of water to Jimin. As Jimin took careful sips, Jeongguk rummaged in his bag for anti nausea pills. They were chewable and meant for children, but they should still work a little.

“Uncle, are you okay?”

Jimin smiled sweetly, brushing a few long strands of Heeseung’s hair behind his ears. “I’m alright. Just a little sick.”

His eyes widened. “Do you need soup?”

“No,” he laughed. “But thanks buddy.”

“Here.” Jeongguk finally found the pills. Jimin didn’t look at him as he took them, which made Jeongguk a little irritated. Honestly, he should have been taking care of himself more.

After a few minutes, most if not all the color had returned to his face. Still, Jeongguk didn’t want them getting on another ride for the next half hour.

“I think it’s time for lunch.” He announced. Heeseung perked up immediately.

“Hamburgers, please.”

Jimin started to stand, and Jeongguk immediately wrapped an arm around his back to support him. Jimin flushed.

“Jeongguk, I’m fine-“

“Please just let me do this.” He didn’t know why he needed to hover over him like this. All he knew was that Jimin almost falling had scared him.

Jimin’s cheeks puffed, but he blew out a reluctant, “Fine.”

---

“I’m not fragile.”

The words were murmured as Jeongguk sat down after getting them all food. Jimin had tried handing him his credit card, but Jeongguk refused to take it.

Jeongguk looked Jimin straight in the eyes. He was tense, fingers curled. He had gotten this way when Jeongguk had taken his bag from him, shouldering both for the walk across the park to get the food Heeseung wanted.

“I know you’re not.”

His jaw tightened. “Then why are you treating me like I am?”

“I’m not.”

His eyes flashed in anger. “You wouldn’t let me walk on my own, you took my bag, and you refused to let me come help with the food. How is that not-“

“My love language is acts of service.” Jeongguk interrupted, leaning over to put ketchup on the edge of Heeseung’s burger wrapper. “I like taking care of people. It’s what I do. And you scared me, so you’re getting the full brunt of it. It’s nothing about what you can and can’t do. I just know what I can do, and I wanted to do all of that because I wanted you to feel better.” He looked back up at him, smiling guiltily. “I guess that backfired.”

“Just a little,” he murmured relaxing. “I like being taken care of just as much as the next person, but you made me feel useless.”

“I didn’t-“

“Mean to.” He finished with a smile. “I understand that now. And now you know to let me do things on my own.”

Jeongguk nodded, tapping Jimin’s foot with his own under the table. He pulled away, but Jimin’s foot caught his, tugging on his ankle.

“Physical contact,” he murmured, eyes nearly disappearing. “That’s mine.”

Jeongguk smiled.

---

It was only when Heeseung started to complain about tired feet and it started raining that they became aware of the time. Jimin gawked at his phone, Jeongguk glancing over his shoulder to see. They had gone two hours over their plan.

“Whoops.” Jeongguk shrugged, unbothered. Jimin didn’t share his light heartedness.

“It’s going to take us forever to get back to Busan!” He ran a hand through his hair, which had gotten damp from the rain. “The subways and trains are going to be packed and delayed because of the rain!”

“Hyung, calm down, it’s okay.” He placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll call my parents and let them know that we’ll be late.”

Jimin sank into the touch, pouting. “Okay.”

His parents were understanding and not at all upset. His mother encouraged him to stay in Seoul for the night and come back in the morning. Jeongguk promised that would be the backup plan if things didn't go smoothly.

And they didn’t.

It took them an hour and a half to get to the KTX station, only to be told the tickets were sold out for the night.

Jeongguk sighed, shifting a drowsy Heeseung on his hip.

“I guess we’re getting a hotel.”

Jimin gave him a look like he was crazy. “Jeongguk, did you forget that I live in Seoul?”

“Uhm. Maybe?” He smiled sheepishly. Jimin rolled his eyes, tugging on his arm.

They got back on the subway, Jimin pulling them off and on, transferring trains like a pro. It didn’t take long for Jeongguk to realize they were heading to the rich part of town.

When Jimin said he wasn’t hurting for money, he wasn’t joking.

Heeseung was asleep as Jimin led them down the street to an apartment complex that was gated. He put in the pin, and it swung open for them.  Jeongguk had never felt the differences of class before, but he was starting to feel it now, looking at the grand lobby.

Stepping into the elevator, Jimin pushed the button for the thirteenth floor and leaned against the railing, sagging tiredly.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he sighed. “Today just didn’t go as planned.”

“What do you mean?” Jeongguk laughed. “Heeseung had a blast. The only thing that went wrong was our transportation home. And even then you’ve got that covered.” He gestured to the building around them. “Trust me hyung, it was a good day.”

He smiled softly. “I guess so.”

“And it’s nice of you to offer your place for the night,” he murmured.

“It would be a waste of money to get a hotel when I’ve got the space.” He grinned, running a hand through his hair. It was curling slightly at the ends, dried from the rain. “Though I’m trying to remember the state of it—I’m a messy packer so I might have left a whole bunch of clothes out.”

Jeongguk pointed to Heeseung, which said everything. His house was a chronic mess, no matter how much cleaning he did. He couldn’t imagine Jimin’s apartment being any worse.

He was right. When Jimin opened the door, all Jeongguk could do was raise an eyebrow at him. Jimin rolled his eyes, stepping into the meticulously clean living room.

“I am not this clean—Hobi-hyung probably broke in and cleaned it for me.” He explained, taking off his shoes. He tossed his backpack against the couch, which had a bright yellow throw blanket over the back. “I’ll try to find you and Heeseung something to wear and I know I have spare toothbrushes.”

Jeongguk nodded, looking slowly around as he took off Heeseung’s shoes with one hand. Although it was clean and orderly, there wasn’t a coldness to it. Jimin had a bunch of knick knacks scattered around the space. Pictures, plants, random figurines… Jeongguk smiled at the stack of books on the coffee table, brushing his fingers over the title of the first.

“Where are we?” Heeseung’s voice was raspy and muffled.

“Jiminie-hyung’s apartment.” He explained, running his fingers through his hair. Heeseung lifted his head from Jeongguk’s shoulder, frowning. Knowing the look, Jeongguk set him down.

“Where is Uncle Jiminie?”

“Right here!” Jimin poked his head out of a room down the hall, grinning. Heeseung bounced away to him, Jeongguk following with a smile.

The door led to Jimin’s room, which was a lot less clean than the living room. There were clothes and accessories scattered around the room, congregating on the bed. Jeongguk chuckled to himself as Jimin threw two shirts onto the bed, one much smaller than the other.

“Will these work?” He pointed to them, but didn’t wait for Jeongguk’s response, moving over to his dresser. He pulled out a pair of shorts, squinting at it before setting it back and rummaging.

“I think any shirt will be big on Heeseung.” He picked up the small black shirt, holding it over Heeseung. It went to his shins. “But it’ll work.”

“I definitely don’t have any pants for him, but these might fit you.” Jimin handed over some black sweatpants. “The bathroom is the first door on the right and you’ll find a pack of toothbrushes in the second drawer on the left.”

“Thanks, Jimin-hyung.”

He herded Heeseung into the bathroom, helping him get ready for bed. While Heeseung brushed his teeth, Jeongguk texted his parents, his own toothbrush hanging from his mouth. He got a glad you’re safe and then a picture of Jungwon and his mom passed out on the couch together, heads tilted back and mouths open. Jeongguk nearly choked on his toothpaste, laughing.

“Done!” Heeseung exclaimed, giving Jeongguk a wide toothy smile to show off his now clean teeth.

“Good job, buddy.”

“I’m going to go show Uncle Jiminie!”

“Show me what?” Jeongguk nearly choked on his toothpaste again, head snapping towards the bathroom door. Jimin peered in, cheeks flushed with sheets bundled up in his arms.

“My teeth!” Heeseung skipped over, smiling extra wide. “See?!”

“I see. You have a very pretty smile.” Jimin winked. Heeseung tired to do it back, still unsuccessful. Jimin giggled before looking up at Jeongguk.

“I’ve changed the sheets, but I don’t have another comforter. I hope that’s okay.”

“Wait what?” Jeongguk garbled. Jimin tilted his head, smiling.

“I didn’t catch that.”

Flushing, Jeongguk quickly finished brushing his teeth. “What do you mean you changed the sheets?”

His brow furrowed. “My bedsheets? I would never let a guest sleep on used sheets-”

“No, Jimin-hyung that’s not- I’m not taking your bed!”

“And I’m not letting you and Heeseung sleep on the couch.” He argued, definitively, in a way that Jeongguk couldn’t get another word in even though there was enough space to. “Is there anything else you guys need-?”

“Uncle Jiminie, I want to have a sleepover with you.”Heeseung tugged on one of the sheets. Jimin’s eyes went wide and panicked—no doubt Heeseung was giving him the look again.

Oh my precious child, Jeongguk thought thankfully. He crossed his arms, smirking at Jimin.

“You can’t take the couch now. Wouldn’t want to crush his dreams.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess the couch is mine—though I have to warn you, Heeseung kicks in his sleep, don’t you?”

He nodded solemnly. “Sorry.”

Jimin sighed in defeat.

---

After Jimin fluttered and hovered for far too long making sure that Jeongguk really was alright on the couch, he finally trudged to his bedroom after Heeseung dragged him there. It didn’t take long for Jeongguk to fall asleep—the minute he had been off his feet he became aware of how much they hurt and how tired he was.

But he was suddenly awake not even two hours later, squinting at the light spilling out from Jimin’s bedroom into the hall. He hadn’t closed his door all the way, leaving it open a crack. The light had hit Jeongguk right in the eyes. He sat up with a discontented grunt, rubbing at his face. He was about to roll over and go back to sleep, but a whimper reached his ears.

He was on his feet in seconds, recognizing the voice as Heeseung’s. He padded to Jimin’s room, peeking in. The sight both warmed him and concerned him.

Heeseung was bundled up in Jimin’s arms, both of them sitting up with the sheets pooling at their waists. Jimin hummed quietly, a gentle soothing—and quite beautiful—tune as he rubbed a hand up and down Heeseung’s back. His hair was mussed, eyes drooping with a tiredness Jeongguk hadn’t seen before. He bit his lip, eyes shining with worry as Heeseung hiccuped—a silent sob. Jeongguk could only guess what happened—he had a nightmare.

Jeongguk knocked gently on the door frame, opening the door wider so that Jimin could see him. His gaze lifted, relief draining the tension from his shoulders. He nodded, a wordless sign that Jeongguk could come in. Jeongguk quietly shuffled forward, the bed dipping as he added his weight.

“Hey buddy,” he crooned, placing a hand on Heeseung’s back. “Everything okay?”

He shook his head, hands curling tighter into Jimin’s shirt. He sniffled, shoving what had to be a tear stained face further into Jimin’s stomach. Jeongguk watched Jimin’s face falter and swore he heard his heart breaking. Jeongguk could empathize—Jimin wasn’t used to seeing Heeseung like this. It was very different from the bright bubbly boy he was normally. Heeseung dealt with nightmares a lot, something Jeongguk knew was his and Heejin’s fault. He could feel the tension between them, which in turn caused him stress.

“Do you want to tell daddy about it?” He prompted, sitting down beside him. He kept eye contact with Jimin, smiling weakly and trying to tell him without words that it was alright. He didn’t know if Jimin took any comfort in it.

“I-It’s s-scary.” Heeseung’s voice trembled. Jimin immediately pulled him closer, resting a hand on his hair.

“What was?” He urged softly, the right amount of everything in his voice. Maybe Jeongguk should call him a natural. He glanced up at Jeongguk as if to check that it was alright. He nodded. “Can you tell us?”

Heeseung took a few gulping breaths before nodding, little head thumping against Jimin’s stomach.

“Daddy left.”

The two words instantly tore Jeongguk apart. Jimin’s eyes went wide, an expression Jeongguk sure he copied. He immediately put an arm around Heeseung’s back, rapidly blinking away his horrified tears.

“I’m right here buddy. Look at me, can you do that?” His throat and chest were tight—he never wanted Heeseung to ever believe that he would leave him. “Heeseung, look at me.”

Painstakingly slow, Heeseung lifted his head. His eyes were swollen, little cheeks lined with tear tracks. Jeongguk placed a hand on his cheek, thumbing away the tears.

“I will never leave you,” he rasped. “You had a nightmare. It was just a dream because I’m right here.”

“B-but,” his lower lip wobbled, fresh tears cropping up. “I couldn’t find you. And-and I tried asking mommy but she left too.” A sob tore through him as he raised his hands to his eye. “Without giving me a kiss again.”

“Heeseung.” Jeongguk croaked, hand falling. He didn’t know what to say. What could he do?

“Next time, ask me.”

Both of them looked up to Jimin. His eyes were unreadable, but he forced a smile. Repeating Jeongguk’s earlier action, he put a hand on Heeseung’s cheek, smoothing over his skin.

“I’ll always help you find your dad, even if he’s picked a really good hiding place.” Jimin winked, and Heeseung giggled. “So if your mom isn’t around, I’ll be there to help if she can’t, okay?”

He nodded, leaning into Jimin’s hand. He sheepishly smiled up at Jimin, his own tiny fingers reaching up to tap against his cheek over Jimin’s hand.

“Will you give me a kiss too?”

Jeongguk couldn't help the chuckle that burst past his lips at the way Jimin melted. He knew the look well—Jimin was absolutely smitten with his son. He lowered his hand, immediately pressing his lips to Heeseung’s cheek. His smile was blinding when he pulled away, somehow widening when he saw the pleased look on Heeseung’s face.

“Everytime you ask,” he promised.

“Really?”

“Hmm.”

As if to test it, Heeseung tapped his cheek again, eyes shining. Jimin immediately swooped in again, making an overexaggerated smooching sound that made him giggle delightedly. He laughed louder when Jimin didn’t stop there, beginning to pepper kisses all over his face. But Heeseung didn’t tell him to stop.

“Oh so Jimin can give you as many kisses as he wants, but when I do that it’s too much?” Jeongguk teased gently, a facade over the fear and sorrow clenched tight on his heart.

Jimin wrapped his arms around Heeseung, pulling him away from Jeongguk and squishing him into his chest. He smirked. “That’s because Heeseung likes me.”

“Well, Heeseung loves me.” Jeongguk was not jealous. Not at all.

“I love Uncle Jiminie too,” Heeseung piped up, wrapping his arms around Jimin’s stomach. Jeongguk was the only one that saw Jimin’s mouth part wordlessly, his expression filling with so much emotion it was hard to keep track of it all. “Just as much as I love daddy.”

“That must mean that you love me lots,” Jimin rasped, glancing up at Jeongguk.

Heeseung nodded, his eyes drooping. Jeongguk immediately adjusted the covers, hinting to Jimin to get Heeseung to lay down. He did, but ended up having to lay down as well when Heeseung wouldn’t let go of his shirt.

“Daddy, you won’t leave, right?” Heeseung slurred, fighting to keep his eyes open.

“No, I’ll be right here.” He murmured, apologizing to Jimin with his eyes. He shook his head, smiling and unbothered. “I love you, Heeseung.”

“Love you too.”

He drifted off, grip on Jimin’s clothes loosening. For a long moment, which had to be ten minutes, Jimin and Jeongguk didn’t speak.

“Jeongguk,” even in the quiet, Jimin’s voice was off, holding some of the same tones that it had the night Jeongguk broke down on him. “Can I ask another personal question? One that might make you incredibly mad at me?”

Jeongguk nodded, palms starting to sweat. He froze when Jimin lifted his eyes to him, anger and disappointment swimming in his gaze.

“Have you ever left Heeseung?”

“No.” He gasped, horrified. Jimin had been right, the question caused anger to simmer over his skin. How could Jimin even ask a question like that-

“I’m not asking out of nowhere,” he explained with a set jaw, clearly having read Jeongguk’s shift of expression. He sat up carefully. “Those types of nightmares… they usually have some stress or trauma backing them. And it was centered around you.” his face twisted into something more broken, more depressed. “He was calling for you and Heejin in his sleep—crying so desperately-”

Jimin cut himself off, biting down hard on his bottom lip while sucking in a ragged breath. Jeongguk immediately reached out, grasping his hand and squeezing.

“Hyung, I promise that I have never left Heeseung like that.” He took a deep breath, forcing his anger to settle. “And although you pissed me off by even considering that I would, I understand it came out of concern for Heeseung.”

Jimin nodded, swallowing harshly. “Sorry.”

“The fact that you care so much for him is enough for me to forgive you.”

Jimin pressed his lips tightly together, and somehow Jeongguk knew that he was hesitating to ask another question.

“Go ahead,” he prompted. He didn’t want Jimin to be questioning anything, especially when it came to Jeongguk’s love and care for his children.

“Did…” his eyes shifted away from Jeongguk, towards the window. “Did your wife ever…?”

Jeongguk closed his eyes.

“She would leave when we had arguments… sometimes we weren’t careful enough to make sure Heeseung couldn’t hear. That’s not something we could always control. And she-” It was his turn to hesitate, wondering if he was sharing too much now. But Jimin had looked back at him, eyes open and clearly listening. Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek and finished his sentence. “She used to not spend much time with the boys.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Jeongguk smiled sadly, turning his gaze to Heeseung’s sleeping face. “I had to beg her to spend more than three hours with them. She loves her job—thrives on the stress of it. But it takes up a lot of her time. She often took it home with her-”

“...Jeongguk,” Jimin rasped, eyes wide. There was pleading in his voice. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I-” he bit the inside of his cheek. “That was months ago, Jimin. She’s been better-”

“Jeongguk, that’s not okay!” He exclaimed, horror bleeding from his body language. Jeongguk knew—he knew that it wasn’t alright and that it wasn’t normal. Even now she struggles sometimes. But Heejin worked such long hours and she had been spending as much time with them as she possibly could on the weekends. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than nothing-

He stilled as a thought crossed his mind.

How many of those hours she spent ‘working’ were actually spent with Yugyeom?

The anger that had transformed into sadness returned with a vengeance. His jaw clenched as he fought to keep his cool, especially in front of Jimin. He had been speaking, but Jeongguk was only now tuning back in.

“-not a parent, so I know it’s different, but especially because she’s a parent she should be setting aside time for her kids. And three fucki-” Jimin inhaled harshly. Jeongguk was a little stunned at how angry he looked. He had seen a glimpse of it on the plane, but this was the plane times twelve. Jimin was pissed. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging lightly at the brown strands as he exhaled slowly.

He looked up at Jeongguk with hard eyes. “When I said I’d give relationship advice, I didn’t think I’d need a freaking counseling degree.”

“...sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” He growled. “Listen, I know she’s your wife and all, but that’s screwed up. Surely you know that.”

Despite the situation, Jeongguk smiled weakly. “I know. But like I’ve said, she’s been getting better-”

“How did she even think that it was alright?!”

“Hyung,” Jeongguk knew he had said it a bit too harsh by the way Jimin stilled. “I know well enough how not okay it is. I’ve discussed it with her and she’s been trying her best. Don’t form a bad opinion of her when I made the mistake of bringing up a past issue and misleading you.”

Jimin pursed his lips. Jeongguk sighed quietly to himself. This is what happened when he opened his big mouth. He said things he wasn’t supposed to and was turning Heejin into a villain figure-

Well, she did cheat on you, a dark part of his mind whispered. Jeongguk shoved it away, immediately thinking three good things about her.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin whispered. He pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on top. “I shouldn’t have… I don’t know the full circumstances. I just… for someone who has been wanting a kid for years…” he shook his head sadly. “I tend to judge other people’s parenting unfairly.”

The vulnerability in his voice softened him. Jeongguk leaned back against the headboard, processing it.

“How long have you wanted children?”

Jimin smiled softly, reverence in his voice. “Oh… I’ve wanted kids since I was a teenager. I never understood the girls and guys in my class when they said that they didn’t want kids until they were in their thirties. Of course, most guys never talked about it because it was unmanly.” He rolled his eyes. “Whatever that means… I say that completely ignoring my own toxic masculinity phase.”

Jeongguk laughed, clapping a hand over his mouth to silence himself, peeking at Heeseung. He didn’t move or shift at all. Jimin smirked at him, but his expression faltered.

“And then I came to terms with… the person I am.” He peeked at Jeongguk, pausing for a moment. Then he sighed, shaking his head. “Having kids of my own would be… expensive. And adoption would be both expensive and difficult. I’ve never foreseen it working out. At least not for a few more years.”

He didn’t know exactly what Jimin was talking about, but he had phrased it in a way where Jeongguk didn’t feel right prying.

“So you’re just constantly baby hungry?” Jeongguk asked with a grin. Jimin rolled his eyes but nodded, cheeks flushing.

“I guess so. I know it’s uncommon for a guy to think that way-”

“Nah, that’s just society’s gender roles. I don’t find it weird in the least.” He grinned. “I love my boys, but I’ve always wanted a little girl.”

“Then why don’t you?” Jimin tilted his head.

“Oh,” he rubbed the back of his neck. He would never tell Jimin this otherwise, but he knew that Heejin didn’t care. She would say it easily whenever someone asked them if they wanted another child. “Heejin… There were complications when she was pregnant with Jungwon. He’s our last biological kid.”

Jimin pressed a hand to his mouth.  “Jeongguk… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he chuckled. “I’m just happy that Jungwon grew up to be healthy. There was a high chance that he’d have at least one complication, whether with his lungs or heart, but he’s completely fine. He’s my little miracle. And Heejin is okay too.” He shrugged. “If we get to the point where we want to grow our family, there’s always adoption.”

“And you’d certainly have an easier time,” Jimin smiled, but it fell apart under a yawn. He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, I promise you’re not boring me.”

“I wasn’t thinking that, but now…” Jeongguk chuckled when Jimin reached over and shoved at his shoulder, laughing himself. “No, I know it’s late.”

“We should probably both go to sleep. We have to get back to Busan tomorrow or both our parents will kill us.” Jimin lifted the corner of the sheets, sliding out of the bed. Jeongguk watched him in confusion.

“Where are you going?”

Jimin’s eyebrows rose. “To the couch…?”

“Jimin, I’ve told you before. I’m not taking your bed.”

“Jimin-hyung.” he corrected absently. “And you need to stay. It would be bad for Heeseung to wake up and not see you-”

“We’ll share.”

He didn’t expect Jimin to freeze at the offer.

“I-uh,” he stuttered. “That- I don’t think Heejin would approve.”

“Then that would be a double standard.” Jeongguk snorted. “Whenever she has her friends staying over I get kicked to the couch.”

Jimin for some reason looked even more stressed. “I- it’s different.”

Jeongguk frowned. “If it makes you that uncomfortable I’ll sleep on the floor-”

“Jeongguk no, that’s not what I-” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You know what, fine. We have Heeseung between us. It’s fine.”

“What’s that supposed to mean…?”

Jimin huffed, pulling the covers back again as he crawled back onto the bed. “My friends call me a ‘cuddle monster.’ Most likely by morning if Heeseung wants to move, he’ll have to wake me up.”

“That,” Jeongguk smiled goofily. “Is adorable.”

“That’s what Tae thought too.” Jimin snorted. “And then we went out drinking for half the night and he couldn’t wake me up in the morning when he really needed to pee.”

Once again, Jeongguk had to slap a hand over his mouth to not laugh roaringly loud. “Oh gosh. Is it bad that I really want to meet Taehyung now? Just to tease him about that.”

Jimin switched off the lamp, dumping them into darkness. But not before Jeongguk saw the smirk. “I would pay to see that. If you’ve got time next week to come into Seoul, I’m sure I could arrange something.”

Next week, Jeongguk would have all the time in the world to go to Seoul.

“Deal.” He slid under the covers himself, careful not to bump into Heeseung. Jimin’s bed was big enough for the three of them for it to be comfortable. And it was a lot nicer than the couch, not that Jeongguk would have complained. 

“Hey, Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for what you said earlier. To Heeseung.”

“You’re welcome… I was nervous that I was going to do something wrong and make it worse.”

“No,” he smiled in Jimin’s general direction, eyes not yet adjusted. “You were a pro.”

Somehow, he knew that Jimin was smiling as well when he spoke, “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m going to have to get you a Best Uncle mug or something like that for your birthday.”

Jimin giggled, the sound clear in the silent room. “I’d like that.”

“Then I’ll definitely get you one.” He murmured sleepily. Jimin must have heard it in his voice because he murmured,

“Goodnight, Jeongguk.”

He closed his eyes, heart lighter than it had been for weeks.

“Night, hyung.”

Chapter 7

Jeongguk was pleasantly warm.

His mom overheated easily so they kept the thermostat down to keep her comfortable. He grew accustomed to chilly mornings where every shift under the sheets would make things cold.

But clearly something had changed, because Jeongguk didn’t feel cold at all. No, the temperature was perfect, keeping his eyes and limbs heavy despite being somewhat awake. Logically he knew that he should be getting up soon—no doubt the boys were already awake since there was light behind Jeongguk’s eyelids. They always got up after the sun had risen, almost like it was encoded into their bodies. But for now, Jeongguk was being selfish. He was with his parents—they could take care of the boys a little longer and Jeongguk could sleep in-

A small finger pressed into his cheek. Jeongguk groaned, lifting a hand to gently push it away. Heeseung’s giggle reached his ears.

“Dad, what do you want for breakfast?”

Slightly more awake now, Jeongguk sighed.

“Eggs and toast. But tell grandma that I’ll be asleep for thirty more minutes.” He snuggled deeper into the sheets as if to cement his point. His chin brushed against something soft and silky. Huh. That was weird. Maybe his mom had changed the pillow sheets.

“Okay…?” Heeseung sounded a bit confused, but Jeongguk felt him bounce around on the bed before the mattress settled. He heard his little feet pad across the floor and the door creaking as he left.

Jeongguk tried to drift back to sleep, which shouldn’t have been hard. He was really comfortable and the comforter felt heavier than usual, which should have helped. But now that Heeseung had bothered him, his body seemed to realize that it should be fully active and moving. Jeongguk’s brain reluctantly agreed.

He forced his eyes open, glaring at the ceiling. What he wouldn’t do for five more minute-

That was not his parent’s ceiling.

Memories of last night came rushing back with a ferocity that made Jeongguk attempt to sit up. But he found that he couldn’t, his right side and arm being pinned down. Jeongguk looked down, eyes widening and heart stilling at the sight.

Jimin was curled against his side, head pillowed on his shoulder with his hair sticking up everywhere. His arm was slung across Jeongguk’s torso, fingers curled into his shirt. Jeongguk had one arm wrapped around his waist and their legs were completely tangled together. Jimin’s face was slack with sleep, plush lips parted as his chest rose and fell evenly. Rays of light splashed across his face, making the skin glow.

It was adorable.

Jeongguk’s fingers itched for a pencil, the desire to draw the scene before him so strong that he cast his eyes around the room for paper—anything that he could copy it down on. Though, he didn’t think he could move. Jimin wasn’t kidding when he said that if anyone wanted to move they would need to wake him up. With a disappointed sigh, Jeongguk resolved to commit it to memory and draw it later.

Instead, he lifted his unpinned arm to gently shake Jimin awake. Only his trajectory changed, gentle fingers brushing Jimin’s hair out of his eyes. Soft and silky. That’s what Jeongguk had felt earlier. It was nice, which was his excuse for why he did it again. A single strand fell into his eyes again, so Jeongguk just had to do it a third time.

He was reminded of how beautiful Jimin was. Of course, it was a fact that he was faced with everyday, but there were some moments where it was a bit difficult to look at him if Jeongguk wanted to breathe properly. And he became even more beautiful the longer Jeongguk knew him. Because he knew what it looked like when he smiled and laughed, and his face would light up with happiness. A small smile slipped over his lips as he smoothed a finger over the corner of Jimin’s eye, where very faint lines were starting to show.

Jimin’s eyelashes fluttered and Jeongguk ripped his hand away, heart rate shooting upwards. But Jimin only frowned, pouted to be more precise, and shifted. His head tilted up, nose brushing against the column of Jeongguk’s throat. Jeongguk’s stomach twisted, heart keeping its steady, skipping pace. Now he couldn’t move at all-

Footsteps sounded in the hall, Heeseung popping back into the room.

“Dad!” He yelled. Jeongguk frantically shushed him, but the damage had been done. Jimin’s brow furrowed, eyes cracking open into slits. Jeongguk held his breath, wondering how Jimin would react-

“What time is it?” Jimin slurred, voice thick with sleep. His voice was low, deeper than it had been on the plane. It did confusing things to Jeongguk as he stuttered for an answer.

“It’s almost nine!” Heeseung reported, jumping onto the bed. “Uncle Jiminie, what do you want for breakfast?”

Jimin, whose eyes had shut again, huffed. “Coffee.”

Then he snuggled further against Jeongguk’s side and promptly fell asleep again.

Jeongguk was suddenly overwhelmed by fondness. He was so cute it was actually unfair. And what was with that answer? He snickered, looking over at Heeseung.

“I guess you’re hungry, aren’t you buddy?” He grinned, keeping his voice low.

“I already ate.” He chirped, making Jeongguk frown.

“You- Heeseung you can’t just eat other people’s food like that.” He chided gently. He was sure Jimin wouldn’t mind, but still…

Heeseung frowned. “But Uncle said it was okay.”

“Did he?” Jeongguk glanced down at Jimin. Ah, if Heeseung was able to move he must have woken Jimin up to be let loose and asked him then. But Jeongguk couldn’t imagine Jimin leaving Heeseung to his own devices… maybe Jimin just hadn’t been awake enough. Or he knew how responsible Heeseung was, even at five. “What did you have?”

“Waffles!” He cheered.

Now Jeongguk knew he was pulling his leg.

“Yeah right,” he rolled his eyes. “What cereal did you have?”

“But I had waffles.” Heeseung pouted. “With chocolate chips.”

Had Jimin woken up, made Heeseung food, and then gone back to sleep? The more Heeseung spoke, the more confused Jeongguk was.

“...alright, buddy.” He mumbled. “Uh, just let me get up. Then I’ll get your clothes and we’ll get you into the bath, okay?”

He nodded eagerly, hopping back off of the bed and racing back out of the room. Jeongguk watched after him, brow furrowed. Heeseung didn’t lie to him often, and that didn't sound like a lie. There was a very low chance that Heeseung actually had waffles for breakfast, but he sounded so sure of himself.

A puzzle for another day, he thought blandly. He looked down at his and Jimin’s entanglement. This was the real puzzle. How was he going to get out of this without waking Jimin up again? Was it even possible? Jeongguk had never been this wrapped up in a person before…

That’s a weird thought to have, he chuckled nervously.

As it turns out, it’s not possible to get out of it without waking Jimin up. Because when Jeongguk tried to detach Jimin’s hand from his shirt, he only clung tighter. The same thing happened trying to untangle their legs. At first Jeongguk thought that he was actually awake and messing with him, but after watching his breathing, there was no way that he was up. Huffing in defeat, Jeongguk shook Jimin’s shoulder.

“Hyung, I’m trapped,” he whined. He poked at his shoulder again. “Jimin-hyung, you gotta let me up.”

His eyes cracked open again. He looked up, scowling. Jimin was definitely not a morning person.

“Hi,” Jeongguk grinned. “I’m stuck.”

“Sounds like a personal problem.”

“Woooow. What happened to the angel Jimin I knew?” Jeongguk teased, poking a soft cheek. Jimin’s nose scrunched.

“Angel Jimin? He never existed.” He propped himself up on his elbow, allowing Jeongguk to finally move his other arm. But he didn’t move, pinned down by the dangerous look in Jimin’s eyes. “I’d probably burn if I walked into a church.”

“Why don’t I believe that?” Jeongguk breathed. He didn’t know why his heart was pounding, skin hot.

“Because I’m very good at playing innocent.” He smirked. Paired with his low voice and Busan lilt, it was downright seductive.

Jeongguk shivered.

“Daaaad!” 

Jimin and Jeongguk’s heads whipped to the door before snapping back to each other. They both attempted moving at the same time, an action that ended up not working well in their favor. Since their legs were so intertwined, not helped by the constricting sheets, they tripped each other, both falling back to the bed in a tangled heap that elicited more than a few injuries and pained yelps.

“Ow,” Jimin breathed painfully, voice near his ear. “Jeongguk, you’re heavy.” 

“Sor-rry,” he sassed through clenched teeth. Jimin had kneed him in the gut on their way down. But that was okay, he was pretty sure he elbowed him in the ribs. He lifted himself up, their faces brushing. It was startling to feel a five o’clock shadow against his own, and maybe that was why he froze the minute he could see Jimin’s face.

His mouth went dry.

They weren’t in the… best position. Jeongguk bracketed Jimin’s face with his arms, bent to his elbows. One of his legs was between Jimin’s, with one of Jimin’s locked around the back of Jeongguk’s knee. Jimin’s shirt has slipped off his shoulder and Jeongguk somehow couldn’t tear his eyes away from the expanse of skin, tracing it to his collarbones and up his neck-

“Uhm,” Jimin’s voice was high. “Jeongguk, are you going to move?”

His eyes shot up to Jimin’s, temporarily distracted by the way Jimin’s hair looked spilled against the sheets, mussed like someone had-

Jeongguk pulled away as if burned, embarrassment and guilt slamming into him hard enough to rob him of rational speech.

“I’mgonnagocheckonHeeseung.” He blabbered, tripping on the mess of sheets as he leapt off of the bed. He managed to catch himself and did a little awkward dance to keep his footing. Jimin broke out into giggles behind him, but Jeongguk forced himself not to look. He practically raced to the door, slamming it behind him.

For a second he caught his breath, leaning back against the door. He ran a hand through his hair, biting his cheek. His heart raced, goosebumps rising against his skin.

What in the world was that?!

He didn’t get the chance to understand what it was because Heeseung skipped into the hall.

“Dad, what took you so long?” He complained, immediately taking his hand. He didn’t wait for an answer to his question, dragging him out of the hall and into the living room. “I told Uncle that you wanted toast and eggs, but he said that he made you waffles too. I told him that you like banana milk, but he said that he didn’t have any.”

Jeongguk’s brow furrowed. “Heeseung, what are you talking about?” They crossed the threshold into the kitchen. “Uncle is still in the bedroom-”

There was a man sitting at the table.

Jeongguk immediately yanked Heeseung behind him, heart shooting up to his throat. The man looked up from his plate at the action, a boxy grin coming over his lips.

“Well hello-”

“Who are you?” He demanded. The man’s grin faltered.

“Dad, that’s U-”

“Not right now, Heeseung.” Jeongguk hissed, hiding Heeseung behind him even more.

“Uh. Really I should be asking you that question.” He chuckled, seemingly unperturbed by Jeongguk’s glare. “It was really surprising opening up the door to find a kid sitting in the living room watching T.V… what’s your name by the way?”

“None of your business.” Jeongguk snapped.

“Woooah,” the man smirked. “Feisty!” His eyes swept up Jeongguk’s frame in a way that made him feel a little exposed. “I suppose you are Jiminie’s ty-”

“Jeongguk-ah? Is everything okay? I heard-” Jimin came around the corner and immediately stilled, eyes growing wide. Then a smile Jeongguk had only seen once or twice took over his face as he squealed, “Tae!”

Jeongguk let go of Heeseung’s hand in surprise.

The man—Tae?—rose from his chair as Jimin leapt forward. Jeongugk’s jaw dropped as Jimin glomped him, jumping up and wrapping his legs around the man’s waist as his arms went around his neck. Tae took the action easily, hand’s immediately supporting him and giggling as he swung him around. An ugly feeling curled in Jeongguk’s chest as Jimin pressed a flurry of kisses to the man’s face, though their mouths never touched. It just looked so… coupley.

“I thought you were filming?!” Jimin yelled, drawing back to look at him. Tae grinned.

“They pushed it back another month because they still haven’t gotten permission for the site, so I’m here for another two weeks.”

Instead of responding, Jimin just laughed and squeezed him tighter.

“Jiminie, I love you,” Tae chuckled. “But my arms are about to give out.”

“Are you calling me fat?” Jimin teased, but unwound his legs.

“You’re not fat.”

Tae wasn’t the only one who said it, surprised eyes flicking over to Jeongguk. He tilted his head curiously, dark eyes assessing. He didn’t break eye contact even as he lowered Jimin back to the ground. Lucky for him, the panicky fight mode Jeongguk had entered at the sight of an unfamiliar person in a place they shouldn’t have been, drained. Jimin knew him—he wasn’t an intruder. That didn’t stop Jeongguk from giving him a distrustful squint. It only seemed to make him more amused.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin babbled, unaware of the underlying tension in the room.

“How could I not come see my soulmate the second I’m free?” He pulled his eyes away from Jeongguk and latched onto Jimin like a leech, hanging off of him though he was a full head taller. He nuzzled— nuzzled!— into Jimin’s neck like some sort of dog. “Especially when I couldn’t make it to yesterday’s lunch.”

Through his emotion fogged mind, a gear clicked into place, completing the puzzle that was this Tae person. This was the man who gifted Bam to Jimin, the one that owned the pomeranian called Tannie. He was the protective one. This was Taehyung—the friend, no, Jimin’s soulmate.

“Uncle TaeTae made waffles for you Uncle Jiminie!” Heeseung exclaimed from Jeongguk’s side. “With chocolate chips!”

Jimin’s eyes grew dinner plate wide as he looked at Heeseung. Almost if he had forgotten that he was there… as if he forgot Jeongguk was there.

His chest stung.

“I did,” his eyes shone mischievously. “You enjoyed them, right Heedeungie?”

“Yeah!”

“His name is Heeseung.” Jeongguk grumbled, crossing his arms petulantly.

Tae—Taehyung, he guessed—chuckled at that. “I know that. It’s a nickname. Ever heard of one?”

“Of course I’ve heard of nicknames.” Jeongguk snapped. Through the haze of irritation and anger, he couldn’t figure out why he was being so defensive. “I have a whole bunch for him-”

“He was teasing.” Jimin interjected, laughing nervously. The clear discomfort on his face made Jeongguk bite his cheek, close his eyes, and take a deep breath.

“Sorry.” When he opened his eyes again, he opened them with a tentative smile. He stretched out his hand. “I’m sorry for the hostility. I’m Jeongguk. You’re Taehyung, right?”

“Ooh~!” He raised his eyebrows at Jimin as he shook Jeongguk’s hand. “He knows my name.”

Jeongguk didn’t know why that would have any significance, so he just let his smile grow. “Jimin-hyung mentioned you. I didn’t make the connection until now.”

“I see,” he wiggled his eyebrows at his friend, who was starting to look nervous and pale. “Jeongguk, you said?”

“That’s me.”

“Tae-”

“I’m surprised that I haven’t heard about you before. Jimin doesn’t usually tell people about me unless it’s serio-ack!”

Jeongguk blinked in surprise at the violent way Jimin had attacked his friend—grabbing him by the ear and yanking him down.

“Word in the corner, Tae?” He grit out, flushed in embarrassment. He didn’t give Taehyung any room to respond, dragging him by the ear out of the kitchen. He watched them go with major confusion, not knowing what was going on. Frowning, he glanced down at his son and decided to address the big issue there.

“Heeseung,” he crouched to his level, putting his hands on his arms. “Next time there’s a person you don’t know in your house, you come straight to me and tell me, okay?”

His nose scrunched. “But this isn’t our house.”

“That’s right buddy,” Jeongguk chuckled. “It’s Jimin-hyung’s house. But-”

“He’s married?!”

The shout ripped through the apartment, immediately drawing Jeongguk’s attention. There was a hissed, “Tae!” before it quieted again. Curiosity rippled through him—they were clearly talking about him, afterall—but Jeongguk forced himself to focus on Heeseung.

“Listen, my little deer.” The term was slipping out the more he was around his parents. Jeongguk knew that it was quickly becoming permanent. “Taehyung-shi was a stranger to you, right? You didn’t know him?”

He slowly nodded. “But he said that he knew Uncle Jiminie.”

“Did you ever see him around Uncle Jimin?”

“...no.”

“You can’t always believe what people tell you.” He explained softly. “Sometimes people lie to you in order to gain your trust only to hurt you. There are a lot of bad people in this world.” He wondered if this was too complex or too harsh of an explanation, but he powered on. “In this case, Taehyung-shi is a good person. He wouldn’t want to hurt you.” He could hope, at least. He was friends with Jimin, so that put him in Jeongguk’s good graces. For now. He was toeing the line, to be honest. Jeongguk didn’t know why he was. He just was-

Focus, Jeongguk. He chastised himself.

“It’s okay for you to approach and talk to someone new if I or someone you know is with you, but it’s not okay for you to talk to strangers on your own,” he explained. “It’s a way to keep you safe from people who might want to hurt you. So if a stranger tries to talk to you or take you somewhere, don’t talk to them or go with them even if they say that they know Daddy or someone you know. And go find someone you do know immediately and tell them about the person, okay?”

Heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed as his face pinched. Jeongguk mentally sighed. No doubt he would have to give Heeseung the stranger-danger talk again.

“Let’s go get your clothes and get you into the bath.”

“Can Uncle TaeTae give me a bath?” His eyes lit up. Jeongguk immediately wanted to scowl. What happened to Heeseung only wanting Jeongguk to do everything? It seems like ever since they came on this trip, he had been taking advantage of everyones doting and forgetting all about his dad.

Shit, he thought with horror. If he’s already like this as a kid, what will it be like when he’s a teenager?! Will he hate me?

“Why can’t dad give you a bath?” He whined, pulling his son into a tight hug. Heeseung giggled, shaking his head.

“Because daddy always gives me baths! You have to share. That’s what grandma tells me.”

“I need to have a serious talk with my mother.” He deadpanned, the humor lost on his five year old son. But it made someone else laugh, familiar high giggles reaching his ears. Jeongguk immediately smiled. But it faltered when it wasn't just Jimin, but Taehyung coming back into the room.

“Junghee would win that argument.” Jimin teased, ruffling Heeseung’s hair as he passed.

“Uncle TaeTae,” Heeseung wiggled out of Jeongguk’s arms, immediately hopping to the tall man. He held up his arms, asking to be picked up as Jeongguk stood. He tensed as Taehyung complied—not even checking with Jeongguk if it was okay. And it suddenly annoyed Jeongguk that the man was attractive. With dark, long wavy hair, symmetrical features, striking eyes and clear skin… he was objectively one of the most handsome men Jeongguk had seen in his life.

But Jimin was prettier.

“Can you give me a bath, Uncle TaeTae?” Heeseung asked eagerly.

“Uh-”

“Of course!” Taehyung chirped, beaming. Jeongguk’s lips parted in shock—did he really agree without asking Jeongguk if he could? Heeseung was his kid!

“Tae,” Jimin piped up, a hint of disapproval in his voice. “Check with Jeongguk first—I know you’re good with kids but you still have to ask.”

“Oh, right. Jeongguk, can I?”

Too shocked at his obliviousness to say no, Jeongguk just nodded. He cheered, joined by Heeseung. It echoed down the hall as they left.

“Sorry about him,” Jimin laughed. Jeongguk turned, watching Jimin fill up a mug with freshly brewed coffee. “Tae’s always been a little unaware of social norms. It’s endearing once you get used to it.” He glanced up, a small smile playing at his lips. “Coffee?”

“Please.” He sank into one of the chairs at the small kitchen table, eying the plate stacked high with waffles in the middle. “So he’s the gifter of Bam.” Jeongguk paused. “It makes sense now.”

Jimin giggled, body swaying forward. “Doesn’t it?”

“So… does he show up out of the blue normally like that?”

“Pretty much.” Jimin picked up the mugs and slid one across the table to Jeongguk. “Do you need anything with that…?”

“Nope.”

Nodding, Jimin sank into the chair opposite of him. “I’m sorry that he gave you a scare—I would have texted him and told him that I had guests if I had known that he wasn’t filming.”

“What is he filming?”

Jimin stared at him blankly, as if waiting for Jeongguk to answer the question on his own. After a few seconds, his eyes widened.

“You didn’t recognize him?”

“No?” Jeongguk raised an eyebrow. “That’s the first time I’ve seen him. Am I supposed to?”

Jimin bit his lip, shoulders shaking with laughter. “Jeongguk, do you watch Korean dramas?”

“...no?”

“That explains it.” He giggled. “Tae’s an actor—a quite popular one at that.”

Jeongguk sat back in his chair, shocked. Now the almost inhuman beauty made sense.

“Wow. You’re a choreographer for idol groups and a back up dancer and your best friends with a famous actor? You rub shoulders with the high groups.” He shook his head, corners of his mouth ticking up. “Next you’re going to tell me you’re friends with Agust D.”

Jimin choked on his sip of coffee. Jeongguk half rose out of his chair in concern, but Jimin waved him off collapsing over himself in laughter.

“You listen to Agust D?” He managed a few moments later, still wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “Do you listen to RM too?”

“Uh yeah?” Jeongguk stated as if it was obvious. “They’re the two best rappers. So talented too…” he sighed dreamily. “I’d sell my organs to meet them.”

“Jeongguk, what are you doing next week?” Jimin smiled against the rim of his mug.

“Nothing…?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “My parents are actually going to Jeju Island for a week and taking the boys with them, so I’ll be on my own-”

“What, why?” Jimin asked, concerned. “Aren’t you going with them?”

Jeongguk gave him a weak smile. “They thought that it would be a good idea for me to have the time to think.”

It didn’t take long for him to make the connection. His lips parted in a soundless, oh. But he recovered rather fast, flashing a smile.

“If you’d like, you could come up to Seoul on Tuesday—my friends are still going to be in town and we’d love to have you. And-” he hesitated, grip tightening on the handle of his mug. “Sometimes it’s not fun being alone. You’re welcome to stay with me.” He slowly turned red at the words, eyes flicking away. “I-If you want.”

The offer shot a spark of warmth through him. Jimin was so compassionate and kind. Jeongguk would be eternally grateful to whatever higher power had put them next to each other on that plane. He was starting to believe that it was fate…

“Thanks for the offer, hyung. I wouldn’t want to intrude though-”

“With my friends or staying with me?”

“Staying with you,” he chuckled. “You already warned me not to turn down an invitation out again.”

He smirked. “I did. And staying with me wouldn’t be a problem either-”

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course.” He bit his lip. “I’m sorry if I’m pressuring you. That’s not my intention.”

Under the table, Jeongguk stretched out a leg, searching. He found Jimin’s easily and locked their ankles together. Jimin blinked at him before smiling.

“You’re not pressuring me,” Jeongguk reassured softly. “I’m just trying to decide if I want to spend the next week on a couch.”

Jimin giggled, eyes turning into crescent moons. “We could always share again.”

The morning’s encounter flashed through his mind, bringing with it curling heat. Not the soft kind, but a heavier type. Jeongguk swallowed harshly before forcing a chuckle from his mouth.

“I don’t know… Heeseung won’t be there to be your cuddle buddy,” he rolled his eyes. “Not that he was much help this morning.”

Jimin’s face turned a delicate shade of red. “I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t,” he grinned, his nose scrunching from the force of it. “You were cute.”

He learned another thing about Jimin that morning.

Being called cute made him blush to the tips of his ears.

---

As wary as Jeongguk was around Taehyung, he had to admit the man made damn good waffles—apparently one of the only things he could make without burning down the building. Jeongguk inhaled two without thinking much of it. It was when he was dumping syrup over his third that he caught Jimin’s amused eyes.

“What?” he demanded.

His smile grew lopsided. “Nothing. You’re just cute.”

Having the word turned on him made Jeongguk understand why it had made Jimin blush so ferociously. He ducked his eyes, not able to make eye contact with the man. It was at that moment that Heeseung came streaking into the room, wet hair splattering droplets of water throughout the kitchen. He was giggling, and climbed up onto Jimin’s lap.

“Uncle Jiminie save me!”

“Save you? From what?”

“From the towel monster!”

Jimin and Jeongguk traded a look. Then a weird tongue clicking noise sounded from outside the room. Jeongguk raised an eyebrow as Taehyung—with a towel thrown over his head—shifted into the room. He had rounded his back and curled his fingers so he looked gnarly. His head twitched sporadically as he let out a witch cackle.

Jeongguk knew immediately that Heeseung would never want to play pretend with anyone else ever again.

“Where is the child with wet hair?” He called, tilting his head in Heeseung’s direction. He squealed, clinging to Jimin tighter.

“Protect me Uncle!”

Taehyung lunged forward making Heeseung shriek in fear and bury his face in Jimin’s neck. But Taehyung was kept at bay as Jimin held up his coffee mug in the man's direction. He hissed dramatically, hand flying to his nose.

“Behold,” Jimin giggled. “The power of coffee.”

“You demon.” He wailed, clawing at his face. Heeseung lifted his head, round eyes growing wide as Taehyung collapsed to his knees. He proceeded to have a slow, painful death, towel slipping off his head. Jimin leaned down to pick it up, immediately putting it to Heeseung’s hair.

“What just happened?”

“Tae doesn’t like the smell or taste of coffee.”

“It’s disgusting,” the man rasped from the floor. Jimin nudged him with his foot.

“Shut up. You’re dead.”

“Coffee is gross.” Heeseung’s nose scrunched.

“And how would you know?” Jeongguk snorted, bringing his own mug to his lips.

“Mom let me try some—” Jeongguk choked, coughing and spluttering. “—And it didn’t taste good.”

Thousands of articles about not letting kids have caffeinated drinks until they were twelve flooded his brain. Jeongguk forced himself to take a deep breath. Just one sip wouldn’t impair his functioning. And Heeseung had a checkup before they came to South Korea—the doctor hadn’t said anything about him having an irregular heartbeat.

“You know what’s better than coffee?” Jeongguk forced a smile. “Juice and water. It’s way better.”

He nodded solemnly. “I agree. But dad, why are you drinking coffee then?”

He faltered and Jimin giggled, hands shaking from where he dried off Heeseung’s hair. Taehyung—still on the floor—grinned up at him with his chin in his hands. Clearly, they all wanted to know how he was going to get out of this. 

“Uhm. Uncle Jiminie was out of juice and water.”

Admittedly not his best excuse. Especially not when Heeseung’s eyes grew wide with panic.

“But I’m thirsty!”

“No worries Heedeungie!” Taehyung leapt up from the ground with surprising agility. He sauntered over to the fridge. He opened it a crack, peeked in, then closed it. He turned towards Heeseung, wiggling his eyebrows. Then he turned back to the fridge, whispering some nonsense to it. Heeseung watched with rapt attention. With a flourish, Taehyung whipped open the fridge. “Tada!”

All Jeongguk saw was the packs of beer and bottle of wine. It took him a full second to see the half empty bottle of orange juice, cuing him into the fact that it had been a while since he had an alcoholic drink. The life of having kids.

“Uncle TaeTae is magic,” Heeseung whispered in awe. Jeongguk snorted—covering it up with a slice of waffle.

“Thanks for making breakfast for us all, Tae.” Jimin murmured as the man poured Heeseung a half glass of orange juice. He flashed Jimin a boxy smile.

“You’re welcome Jimbles.” His eyes flickered to Jeongguk. “I’m glad someone likes them.”

“They were very good.” Jeongguk offered awkwardly.

“So Jeongguk,” his eyes glinted mischievously and Jeongguk braced himself for what was to come.  “Jimin tells me that you’re married.”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk pushed the pain behind a smile. He knew it would get better with time, but it still hurt. “Seven years.”

“Where’s the wife?” His eyes darted to Jeongguk’s hand. “And the ring?”

Jeongguk immediately pulled his hands towards himself, fingers ghosting over the empty space.

“Tae,” Jimin warned.

“No, no, it’s fine,” he forced himself to put his hands back on the table—to show he was unbothered when in fact, he really was. “She had to work, and I misplaced my ring before I left.”

The lie came easily. Far too easily. Jeongguk wasn’t the best actor, but it seemed when he really wanted to hide his agony, he could do it well. Or the people around him were too kind to call him out on it. Taehyung hummed, seemingly accepting his answer.

“How did you and Jiminie meet?”

“On the plane.” Jimin muttered. Taehyung’s eyes snapped to him, narrowing. Jimin met his gaze unwaveringly. The longer they stared at each other, the faster Jeongguk realized that they were somehow having an entire conversation with just their eyes. It was intriguing to watch, and made him terribly curious. At first, Jimin calling Taehyung his soulmate had been an overexaggerated way to say they were best friends, but as Jeongguk watched them, he knew that wasn’t true. The two of them… they were literally soulmates.

Jeongguk had been married for seven years and he still couldn’t know exactly what his wife was thinking when he looked at her. Honestly, at this point he couldn’t tell what she was thinking at all. His parents had been married for even longer—and Jeongguk knew that they still had to use words. Of course, they were considerably better at reading each other after being together for so long.

The connection Jimin and Taehyung had? Well, it was fascinating.

And made Jeongguk more than a little jealous that he didn’t have that type of connection with someone.

“I didn’t realize you two knew each other that long,” Taehyung finally broke the silence, but didn’t take his eyes off of Jimin. He rolled his eyes.

“You would have known if you didn’t ditch lunch yesterday—I told everyone about him.”

“You told your friends about me?” Jeongguk squeaked.

“Of course! I had to in order to tell them about my nephews.” Jimin tickled Heeseung’s sides a little, making him whine and shove his hands away. Jeongguk pouted.

“So I’m just a side piece? You only talk to me because of my kids.”

“You’re right.”

“Jiminie-hyung,” Jeongguk whined.

“Jeonggukie,” Jimin whined back before breaking out into laughter. Jeongguk smiled to himself, pleased. But it dimmed when he caught Taehyung’s eyes. They were narrowed, dark with an emotion Jeongguk didn’t know Taehyung well enough to name. But it sent a shiver down his spine—a warning that he was somehow doing something wrong. Jimin had said that Jeongguk would like his friends, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t true.

Though, Jeongguk had made a bad first impression.

“Uh, Jimin-hyung do you mind if I wash up first?” He wanted to get out from under that gaze.

“I don’t mind at all. Oh, but let me show you where the dryer is. I put your and Heeseung’s clothes in last night-”

“No, it’s fine, I can find it.” Jeongguk chuckled, rising from the table. He gestured to Jimin’s empty plate. “Are you done with that?”

At his tiny nod, Jeongguk picked up his plate and moved to the sink, flicking on the tap.

“Jeongguk-ah you don’t have to do the dishes.” Jimin gasped, quickly rising from his seat and going to Jeongguk’s side. “You’re a guest.”

“It’s the least I can do-”

“No,” Jimin wrestled the plates from his hands, nudging him out of the way with his hip. “I refuse to let a guest do anything.”

“Hyung, I’m hardly a guest-” Jeongguk spluttered as Jimin flicked water at him. He put his hand under the water again and raised it warningly—daring Jeongguk to continue to argue. “Fine.”

Jimin giggled, leaning heavily against the counter. Jeongguk’s chest fluttered strangely at the sight. He was half tempted to poke at his chest and ask what it was doing. He just shook his head, turning away.

He locked eyes with Taehyung.

Jeongguk may not have known the man very well, but he could recognize anger. Instead of cowering under the gaze, Jeongguk met it steadily. He didn’t know why Taehyung was mad at him, but he wasn’t going to let him push Jeongguk around.

Taehyung was the one who looked away first, jumping to his feet and joining his friend at the sink. “Let me help, Jiminie.”

Jeongguk glared at his back before shaking his head and leaving the kitchen.

What a weird morning.

---

Taehyung had been a little upset when he realized that Jimin was going back to Busan with Jeongguk and Heeseung. 

“You’re leaving again?” Taehyung whined.

It had been half an hour of awkwardness between them when Jimin had gone to wash up. It mostly consisted of Taehyung playing with Heeseung while Jeongguk watched on with suspicious eyes. Taehyung had glanced at him again and again, obviously bursting with questions, but he never managed to ask them. Jeongguk knew that he wouldn’t want to answer them. They were saved when Jimin rushed into the room, hair still half wet and announced that they should get going. The three of them huddled near the door to put on their shoes. Jeongguk helped Heeseung tie his.

“Family dinner, remember? I’ll be back on Monday.” Jimin promised, wrapping his soulmate in a hug. Jeongguk watched from the corner of his eye. “We can catch up on everything then, okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbled, once again nuzzling into Jimin’s neck. Jeongguk looked away, puzzled over the intimacy the two shared. Maybe he had been in the United States too long and he had forgotten the levels of physical touch friends shared here. Or it had changed over the years and became more… coupley.

“I’ll see you later Taehyung-ah.” Jimin called as they walked out the door. “Don’t eat all my snacks!”

“Bye Uncle TaeTae!” Heeseung waved cutely and Jeongguk’s heart melted a little as Taehyung waved back. Okay, maybe he wasn’t too bad. But Jeongguk still couldn’t get the anger Taehyung displayed out of his mind.

They took their time getting to the KTX, not at all bothered by the busy subways. Heeseung kept up a string of chatter on the ride back, finally getting the time to talk about how cool Lotte World was. Somehow, Jeongguk got roped into agreeing to bring Heeseung back to South Korea next year so Jimin could take him again. He wasn’t actually opposed to the idea. Because of Heejin’s job, they definitely had the finances for yearly trips to not be an issue. And Jeongguk would never turn down the opportunity to visit his parents. He hadn’t realized how much he missed them until now.

And he wanted to see Jimin again. 

It hit him that he only had a week left until he would be returning to the States. Although it was arguably a long time, he knew it would pass in the blink of an eye. And if Jimin was going back to Seoul, that would limit the time Jeongguk could spend with him. Unless, of course, he took up Jimin’s offer… but it was delaying the inevitable. Sooner or later, Jeongguk was going back home. Back to-

Back to what?

Back to his wife? The woman who had cheated on him? The one that he knew could never bring him the happiness she used to?

Jeongguk closed his eyes. No, he was going back to his best friend. The woman he still loved, just in a… different way. He was going back home—the place where his family was. The place that his boys needed to grow up. A loving, connected, stable home.

His stomach twisted, not a good feeling. He felt a little sick with his thoughts.

Why did it feel like he was lying to himself?

Chapter 8

Notes:

Ahem. CHECK THE TAGS. They've been updated.
Long endnotes. I hope you read them all.

“Shit.”

Jeongguk’s eyes snapped to Jimin in surprise. It had been made clear to him that the man regularly cursed, but he had been phenomenal at not doing it around Heeseung. But that curse had been quite loud, and definitely caught Heeseung’s attention.

“Dad, Uncle said a bad word.” He whisper yelled.

“One you aren’t going to repeat.” Jeongguk huffed. But his eyes were still on Jimin, softening with concern at the panicked look on his face. He was burning a hole into the Mercedes parked in the normally empty driveway of his parents house.

“Hyung?” He prompted gently.

Jimin startled slightly, sucking in a deep breath. He smiled apologetically at Jeongguk, but he could tell from a mile away that it was forced.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, looking down at Heeseung. “Your dad is right. You don’t want to say that word. It’s not a good one.”

Heeseung nodded solemnly. “I know. Daddy says it a lot and always tells me not to say it. Or tell mom that he said it in front of me.”

The betrayal was real. Jeongguk studiously avoided Jimin’s playfully disapproving eyes, putting a hand against Heeseung’s back.

“Why don’t you run inside and tell grandma that we’re back?” He nudged him forward. “I’ll be inside in a second.”

Jimin gave him a confused look and Jeongguk met his gaze steadily, conveying that he wanted to talk with him. Heeseung thankfully didn’t protest, gleefully taking off and entering his grandparents house with a shout of, “Grandma!” that the whole neighborhood could probably hear. Jeongguk rolled his eyes fondly before turning to Jimin.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“Nothing?” Jimin blinked at him. As if Jeongguk couldn’t see the way his eyes kept darting to the car.

“Come on, you’ve been my therapist. Let me be yours.” He urged with a grin. Jimin rolled his eyes, but relented, shoulders dropping.

“That’s my brother’s car.”

Jeongguk whistled, scanning the car. It looked new. “Sweet ride.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s besides the point. It’s my brother’s car.” He stressed. “That means that he’s here and that he’s probably going to stick around for dinner.” He rubbed at his temple. “Of all the weekends he could visit—it had to be this one.”

“And that's a bad thing because…?”

Jimin sighed. “We don’t have the… best relationship.”

“Why not?”

“A lot of reasons.” Jimin breathed. “Remember my comment about having a toxic masculinity phase? Jihyun never left his.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah.” Jimin’s lips curved upwards before dipping. “I would like to say he won’t say anything stupid at dinner, but I make no promises.”

“Can I skip out on dinner?” He joked. Jimin barked out a laugh, grin sharp.

“I would join you.”

“I make a great mac and cheese.”

Jimin giggled, covering his mouth with a sweater-covered hand. It was a bit too warm to be wearing a sweater, but Jeongguk couldn’t deny that Jimin looked good in it. He looked soft and cuddly, especially with the sleeves stretched into sweater paws.

“Though,” Jeongguk dipped down into seriousness. “My mom was pretty happy about this dinner—I think she was excited to finally introduce me to your parents.”

“They’re excited to meet you,” Jimin murmured. He sighed. “I guess this means that we can’t skip it.”

“Well, you definitely could.”

“No,” Jimin’s face darkened. “I don’t want you and Jihyun in the same room without me there to make sure he doesn’t say anything.”

Jeongguk raised an eyebrow. “Does he hate married men with kids or something?”

“No, he doesn’t. It’s… it’s too difficult to explain.” He shook his head, but he was becoming closed off again—like from the plane. Jeongguk didn’t like it. “You should probably head inside.” Jimin urged, stepping towards his parent’s house. “Your mom is probably stuffing Heeseung full of cookies.”

Oh, she was absolutely doing that, but Jeongguk needed to do one more thing.

“Hyung?” Jimin paused. Jeongguk played with his fingers, suddenly nervous. “A-about your offer. For me to stay with you?”

Jimin’s eyes widened slightly. “Yeah?”

“I’d like to take it. I-If you don’t mind.”

“Even if you have to sleep on the couch?”

Jeongguk huffed a laugh, Jimin’s joke making his confidence return. “I thought we were sharing the bed?”

He expected Jimin to roll his eyes and laugh, but the man just smiled.

“Okay, Jeongguk-ah. I’d love for you to stay with me.”

---

Jeongguk grabbed Jungwon’s wrist before he could press his sticky fingers into his hair. He had told his mom not to give Jungwon a cookie before they left, but she had ignored him, leaving Jeongguk to try to keep chocolate covered fingers away from his hair and face. He had cleaned up for the dinner, the urge to impress Jimin’s family oddly strong. So he parted and styled his hair into something presentable. He traded his black t-shirts (used to wear white, but… kids) and ripped jeans for a well fitting black turtleneck and a pair of slacks that had somehow made its way into his suitcase. He had admittedly been a little out of it while packing, but was grateful for it now.

He knew he had probably overdone it when he walked downstairs and his mom had teared up at the sight of him, taking a moment to cry over how handsome he had become. Jeongguk, flustered, had almost gone upstairs to change but his dad had grabbed his elbow and steered him out the door. At least his dad was in something similar, so Jeongguk didn’t feel too out of place.

“-know that Mijeong will just love you.” Junghee chatted to Heeseung, smoothing her hand over his hair as they waited for the Park’s to answer the door. It didn’t take long, the door swinging open and revealing an unfamiliar face.

Unfamiliar to Jeongguk, at least.

“Jihyun!” His mother squealed. “What a nice surprise!”

“Mrs. Jeon,” he greeted, voice low and even. He gave her a lopsided smile and Jeongguk was perturbed by how similar yet vastly different it was to Jimin’s smiles. They had similar features, but Jihyun had darker hair, was considerably taller, and had a more prominent build. “Mr. Jeon, come on in.”

He stepped out of the way, letting in Jeongguk’s parents and Heeseung. Jeongguk stepped in after them, but paused at the look Jihyun gave him. Torn between curiosity and… something else.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he hummed, tapping his chin. Then his eyes lit up, snapping his fingers. “Jeongguk, I presume?”

“Yes, that’s me.” He chuckled nervously. “You must be Jihyun. Jimin-hyung has told me a bit about you.”

Jihyun’s eyes flashed,  making Jeongguk tense. His lips curled into a strained smile, edged with disdain. Jeongguk couldn’t believe his eyes—that was the expression of pure disgust, something Jeongguk couldn’t imagine feeling for his brother.

“Ah, so you’ve already met my hyung.” He clapped a hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder. He immediately wanted to shove it off—Jihyun unsettled him in a way that no one had ever unsettled him before. “Don’t be fooled by his innocent looks. He’s got a nasty streak. Just a warning.”

“My nasty streak is only matched by yours.”

The challenging voice came from the left. Jeongguk looked over and immediately relaxed.

Jimin leaned against the archway that separated the sitting room from the dining room, where Jeongguk could hear their parents exchanging pleasantries. Jeongguk blinked at him. He didn’t know this Jimin. Despite his soft and cuddly look, he may as well have been wearing armor. Everything about him was guarded.

“That’s not true at all,” Jihyun’s voice was barbed.

Jimin’s eyes hardened. “Eomma told you to behave.”

“I’m behaving!” Jihyun held up his hands in peace. “I’m just making polite conversation.”

His eyes narrowed, flicking from his brother to Jeongguk. He subtly nodded, letting Jimin know that he hadn’t said anything. He relaxed slightly.

“Eomma wanted you to help with the mashed potatoes.” He drawled to Jihyun before turning to Jeongguk. “She wanted to do a partial American dinner because your mom said that you’d be coming.”

“That’s kind of her.”

“Min,” Jungwon whined. Jeongguk looked down at his son in surprise—he had learned part of Jimin’s name already? He outreached his hands towards Jimin, making pleading sounds. Every single wall Jimin had up went crumbling and he cooed, crossing the room in two strides to take Jungwon from Jeongguk’s arms.

“You’ve missed me, haven’t you!” He grinned, nuzzling his nose against Jungwon’s. “It’s been forever since I saw you, hasn’t it?”

“It’s only been a few days-”

“Shush Jeongguk. I didn’t ask you.”

He rolled his eyes fondly, catching Jihyun’s gaze. He stared at the three of them with a scrunched nose and calculating eyes—like he was trying to figure something out. Jeongguk raised an eyebrow at him and Jihyun’s brows furrowed before he turned and disappeared into the dining room.

“I don’t like him.”

Jimin looked up in surprise. “Jihyun?”

“He unsettles me.” Jeongguk admitted quietly, eyes still on the place he had disappeared too. He hesitated, not knowing if he should tell Jimin about the disgusted look on his brother's face when Jeongguk had mentioned him. He decided against it.

“He’s not that bad.” Jimin sighed. “I just happen to bring out the worst in him.”

“That makes no sense.”

Jimin shrugged, smiling as Jungwon pressed his cheek against his. “Don’t worry about it Jeongguk. You won’t have to get swept up in my family drama.”

But I want to. I want to know why you make such a sad face. I want to know how to make it better.

Jeongguk swallowed back the words. He was so forthcoming with Jimin. It scared him, just a little. But it was more relieving than anything else. He hadn’t realized how much he was bottling up—even before everything happened with Heejin. Jimin not only made him feel safe to share, but Jimin also eased the burden of those things, and made Jeongguk forget about their weight. He wanted to give Jimin the same opportunity—the same feelings and trust. He wanted to carry his burdens until it was easier for Jimin to carry them himself.

“Jimin!” An unfamiliar voice called. A man poked his head out of the kitchen, giving them a blinding eye smile. “Quit hogging Jeongguk and Jungwon for yourself.”

“Appa,” Jimin whined, burying his pink cheeks into Jungwon’s hair. The man laughed, stepping forward to take Jeongguk’s hand.

“It’s so very nice to meet you,” his grip was firm, yet warm. Jeongguk immediately liked him. And he bore a strong resemblance to Jimin, especially that smile. “I’m Pilwoo—your parents told us so much about you.”

“Hopefully all good things, Mr. Park.”

“Oh no,” he chuckled. “Please, just call me Pilwoo. Or dad. Whichever you’re comfortable with.”

The warm welcome made his chest swell.

“And this must be Jungwon!” He turned his attention to the one-year-old in Jimin’s arms, face melting. Jimin was definitely this man's son. “Wow, look at that face.” he peeked at Jeongguk before laughing. “The little man in the dining room clearly takes after his father, but this cutie must be his mother’s son. Jim told me all about you.”

Jungwon, normally shy around strangers, held out his arms, demanding to be transferred from Jimin to Pilwoo. Predictably smitten, Pilwoo swept him up, blowing raspberries into his cheeks and making him squeal. Eyes alight with youngness despite his age, Pilwoo gestured towards the dining room. “Come on in! I’d love for you to meet my wife.”

“You are your father’s son.” Jeongguk whispered to Jimin as they followed Mr. Park into the other room. Jimin just laughed, shaking his head.

He understood the laughter, because when he saw the aging woman crouched by Heeseung and asking him questions, he was thrown. He looked between Jimin’s parents and back at Jimin, confused. There was such a strong mix of both of them in his features that he couldn’t say who looked more like the other. Mrs. Park had definitely given Jimin his beauty and soft features, but every smile and laugh was Pilwoo’s.

“Mijeong!” Pilwoo called. The dark haired woman looked up, gasping when she saw Jeongguk.

“Oh my,” she covered her mouth with her hand, rising to her feet. “Pictures do not do you justice, Jeongguk!”

His face burned under the attention. He was surprised when Mijeong immediately pulled him into a hug. She pulled away, hands on his shoulders to look at him. Then she turned to Jimin, betrayal in her eyes. “Jimin, you didn’t tell me that he was this handsome!”

“Why does my opinion matter?” He chuckled.

“Because,” Jihyun stepped into the room, carrying a large bowl filled with mashed potatoes. “You’re the expert on guys since you like to f-”

“Jihyun.” Pilwoo cut off with a hiss, disappointment in his eyes. “Behave.”

“Oh, and this must be Jungwon!” Mijeong cooed, immediately drawing the conversation and attention to the little one nestled in Pilwoo’s arms. “He’s so precious—how old is he?”

“A year and two months.” Jeongguk glanced at Jimin, but he was staring at the floor, looking sick. He tapped his fingers against Jimin’s hand, silently providing comfort, but Jimin pulled his hand away. His brow furrowed.

“You’ve got a very bright son here.” Pilwoo placed a hand on Heeseung’s shoulder. “He was telling me about being able to tell time.”

“He gets it from his mom.” Jeongguk chuckled, taking the seat his mother pulled out for him. His father had brought Jungwon’s highchair over earlier, and he helped Pilwoo strap him in. Heeseung hopped up into the chair next to him. “Heejin is one of the smartest women I know.”

When it comes to book smarts.

“Ah yes, I heard that she graduated in the top five of her class!”

“She did.” Jeongguk smiled. “She now works as a PA to the CEO of a technology company.”

Jihyun settled in the chair across from Jeongguk, a smile glued onto his lips. “And what do you do, Jeongguk?”

“I’m an at home dad.”

That made Jihyun frown and open his mouth to say something, but he was stopped by Jimin falling into the seat next to him.

“Jeonggukie is also an artist,” he provided, pulling out his phone. With a few swipes, he found what he was looking for and passed it to his mother—who sat on his left. Mijeong gasped.

“Oh Jeongguk! You’re so talented.”

The phone went around the table—even to Heeseung who insisted on seeing it again. Jeongguk was the one to pass it to Jihyun. He stared at the screen for a moment, brow furrowing in the way that it had earlier.

“I do a few commissions when I have the time, but…” he shrugged. “My kids are my priority. You have a family too, right Jihyun-shi?”

His chest puffed. “Yes. A wife and a son—his name is Yongjin. Sunyoung had him two years ago.”

“What does your wife do?”

“She’s at home. I’m a department manager in a company.” He smirked—side eying Jimin. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Pilwoo interrupted him.

“When did you get married, Jeongguk? I remember Jeongho showing me the wedding pictures, but I’m afraid I don’t remember how long it’s been.”

“Seven years.” He rubbed at his ring finger. Jihyun whistled.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-six.”

“Jeez, what made you eager to get a ball and chain?” He chuckled, glancing around the table like he expected someone else to laugh. Jimin—Jeongguk kept him in his vision at all times—had a knuckle white grip on his chopsticks, lips pressed tightly together.

“I don’t consider being married a ‘ball and chain.’” Jeongguk said quietly. “I loved her—she loved me. So why not get married?”

Jihyun cleared his throat. “Wrong question to ask I guess. Is she hot?”

“Excuse me?” Jeongguk would have shivered at the sound of his own voice if he wasn’t so pissed.

“My mom’s really pretty!” Heeseung exclaimed, eyes lighting up in excitement. The childish innocence immediately drained the tension from the room and Jeongguk beamed at his son. Jimin giggled.

“See mom? Just like his dad.” He smiled fondly at Heeseung.

Thanks to Heeseung’s outburst, the conversation moved on to different topics. Like how Jeongguk was enjoying his time back in Busan,  what it was like living in the States, and so on. Jeongguk knew he would be exhausted by the end of the night because not only were most of the questions directed at him, but he also had to split his time between feeding himself and feeding Jungwon. His mother made sure that Heeseung was eating. Thankfully he got a small break from the hot iron when Heeseung grabbed everyone's attention with his regaling tale about Lotte World.

“Mom and dad told me that it was supposed to be a day trip,” Jihyun interrupted. “I had been so excited to see you yesterday, hyung, but you never came home.”

“We slept over at Uncle Jiminies!” Heeseung grinned. “And I got to play with Uncle TaeTae.”

“Oh, Taehyung was there?”

“Call him hyung, Jihyun.” Jimin’s eyes narrowed. “And yes, he came over that morning.”

Jihyun turned a curling smile on Jeongguk. “He’s a bit flamboyant, isn’t he?”

“I wouldn’t say flamboyant. A little weird, but not flamboyant.” He said honestly. “I didn’t get much of a chance to talk with him, but he seemed alright. Got along well with Heeseung.”

“Of course he would.” Jihyun muttered. “Their types love children since they can’t have any on their own.”

Jimin’s jaw clenched.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jeongguk drawled, confused. Jihyun flashed him a bright, entirely fake smile.

“Oh nothing. Just mentioning how people who don’t have children are always falling over every kid they see. I mean, just take my hyung for example. Loves kids. Adores them. Wants some of his own but,” he shrugged. “He tends to make poor choices that just don’t allow him to have that kind of life-”

“Jihyun,” Jimin snapped, face dark. “Do we need to talk outside?”

“Boys,” Pilwoo warned, eyes flickering to the other guests at the table.

“I didn’t say anything!” Jihyun held up his hands, eyes blown wide in innocence. “Though I do have to ask, hyung, was sleeping on the couch hard on your back? I know with all your fancy dancing that you do, you get pretty sore. Though, I guess you’re used to being sore because you-”

“He didn’t sleep on the couch.” Jeongguk interrupted, not knowing what Jihyun was getting at. Jimin’s eyes snapped to him, shaking his head no, but the words were already leaving Jeongguk’s mouth. “I wouldn’t let him—I already felt bad about intruding in his home. I took the couch.”

That wasn’t the full truth, but Jeongguk knew that it would sound bad if he said the three of them shared the bed. It must have been the right thing to say though, because Jimin relaxed.

“Jimin,” Mijeong frowned. “You shouldn’t have let a guest sleep on the couch.”

“Oh no,” Jeongguk chuckled. “I insisted. And Heeeung wanted to have a sleepover with Jimin-hyung anyway—there was no way he could refuse.”

“I really did try,” Jimin smiled lopsidedly. “He’s too stubborn.”

“Oh I bet you tried.” Jihyun muttered.

Jimin whirled on him. “What is your problem!?” 

“Jimin, Jihyun, please-”

“My problem? You know exactly what my problem is, hyung.” Jihyun growled. “I don’t understand why no one else finds issue with it!”

“That’s because you’re an asshole stuck in the past!”

“Jimin, you just don't get it!” He shouted. “I don’t understand how you can go through life thinking that it’s alright and okay for you to behave, act, and think like that. It’s sick and wrong! Look at Jeongguk!” He pointed at him. “You’ve got a prime example of the life you should be living—getting married to a woman and having kids with a woman. Why is that so hard to get through your brain?!

“Oh wait,” he laughed, high and manic. It was Jimin’s laugh but wrong. Wrong and ugly and… disgusting. “You can’t see it because you’re too busy sizing him up.He doesn’t even know does he? That’s why you wanted to keep my mouth shut, huh? You didn’t want him to know what you were so you could keep him close and personal. You wanted to keep it a secret to continue to fuel your fantasies. I wouldn’t put it past you to use your fucking fairy charms to seduce him into giving you a dicking do-”

Jimin lunged.

Between one blink and the next, Jimin and Jihyun were on the floor. Chairs screeched as the adults stood, shouts filling the room. Jungwon started to cry.

Jeongguk shot up from his chair and darted around the table just in time to see Jimin pull back for a second swing, but it missed as Jihyung jerked his head. Within milliseconds, they were rolling, Jihyun’s hands scrabbling for Jimin’s collar and latching onto it. He came out on top, slamming Jimin’s head to the ground as his elbow jerked back for a hit.

He was grabbed by Pilwoo, who immediately yanked him off of Jimin. He shot to his feet, socks nearly slipping but Jeongguk grabbed his arm, both steadying him and yanking him away from Jihyun. Jimin fought against his hold, looking positively animalistic with eyes only for his younger brother.

“That’s enough!” Mijeong yelled, her voice making both men still. Chests heaved with exertion and emotion—Jeongguk’s heart was pounding with adrenaline. Jungwon was still wailing.

What. Just. Happened?

He couldn’t comprehend it. Everything had been too quick—too fast.

“One night.”

The croak came from Jimin. To Jeongguk’s absolute horror, he was crying, steady tears streaming down his face. Jeongguk let go of him, almost reaching for his face to wipe the tears away. But the minute he was released, Jimin curled into himself.

“I asked you to not be fucking homophobic for one night,” he sobbed. “And you couldn’t even do that. And even worse-! You tried to paint me as someone who would encourage someone to cheat on their partner. I can’t even-”

Oh, Jimin was hyperventilating.

“Hyung-”

Jimin jolted away from his hands, shaking his head frantically. His back hit the table and he stumbled. His eyes darted around the room before his head lowered in shame and defeat.

“I need some air.”

No one stopped him. Jeongguk watched helplessly, flinching when the front door slammed. Jungwon wailed louder and Jeongguk finally jolted towards him, quickly unstrapping him from the high chair and pulling him into his chest. His eyes immediately went to Heeeung.

He was frozen in his seat, gripping the tablecloth between his tiny fingers. Eyes wide and filled with tears, Heeseung jolted when Jeongguk placed a hand on his shoulder. The tears spilled over.

“Daddy,” he cried.

It was difficult, but Jeongguk pulled him into his arms. Carrying both of his children, Jeongguk cast his eyes on Jihyun. Pilwoo had let him go, and he pressed fingers to his split and bleeding lip, wincing.

“I want an apology.” Jeongguk demanded, voice steady.

“Jeongguk–”

“No, mom,” he glared at her, not softening despite her pale face. His eyes flickered back up to Jihyun who was scowling at him. “I deserve one.”

“I didn’t say shit about you.” Jihyun hissed.

“You fucking implied it,” he growled. “And you did it in the worst way possible. How could you say that about Jimin-hyung?”

“You don’t know my brother,” he snapped. “Don’t act like you do.”

“I met him on a plane a week ago, but clearly, I know him more than you do, and you’re his fucking brother.” Jeongguk snarled. “Either grow up, or shut up Jihyun or you’re going to find yourself with more enemies than you can count.”

He let the words hang in the air before taking  a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He bowed best he could to Pilwoo and Mijeong. “Thank you for the meal. It was wonderful.”

Without waiting for his parents, Jeongguk turned, gathered up his and his children’s shoes, and left the Park residence.

---

It had taken two hours to get both of his children to calm down and go to sleep. Heeseung had asked question after question about Jimin, wondering if his Uncle was okay, and wanting to know why he was mad. It tore Jeongguk apart when he sobbed, thinking that he had done something to make Jimin leave. He had reassured him over and over again that it wasn’t his fault, but it was clear to him that Jimin would have to be the one to tell him.

His parents were talking in the living room in hushed whispers when Jeongguk came down the stairs. He paused on the last step, suddenly aware of how old his parents looked. The lines in their face, the grey in their hair… it was all made more prominent by the stress lining their bodies.

“Did you know?”

They looked up, sad eyes softening.

“Know what, Guk?” His dad asked gently.

“About Jimin-hyung.”

He knew before they even said anything. He could read it on their faces. Jeongguk sagged against the railing, sinking to sit heavily on the stairs.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He croaked. “I could have been more prepared. I could have… I could have protected him.”

“Oh baby,” Junghee padded over, sinking to sit on the step next to him. “It wasn’t our place to. You know that.”

“I do, but-” he buried his hands in his hair. “Fuck, mom. How could he say that? His own brother?”

“I don’t know,” she said, voice hard. “I don’t know what Jihyun was thinking. He’s never been like that before. I don’t know what happened. We’ve always known that there was tension between them, but…” She shook her head, at a loss for words.

“Jimin has been dealing with this for a while.” Jeongho exhaled. “He always comes back stronger—we just need to be a good support to him.”

“He’ll probably come here when he comes back-”

“He still hasn’t come back?” Jeongguk looked up at them in concern. He had come downstairs when he heard the door close—they had been at the Park’s this whole time.

Both of his parents shook their heads. Jeongguk immediately got to his feet.

“Jeongguk-ah, where are you going?”

He shoved on his shoes, hardly looking back at them. “I’m going to go look for him.”

“My deer, I think he needs some time alone to think.”

Sometimes it’s not fun being alone. The words echoed in his head like a siren call. Jeongguk shook his head, pulling open the door.

“He’s had two hours. If he needs more time when I find him, then I’ll give him that time. I just-” he bit the inside of his cheek. “I need to know if he’s okay.”

“Okay.” His dad placed a hand on his shoulder. “Tell us when you’ve found him. And if he’s ready to come back, bribe him into our house with promises of hot chocolate and the choice of a movie he wants to watch.”

Jeongguk laughed wetly. “Okay dad.”

Jeongguk could never express how good his parents were. They tackled and handled every situation in the best way, giving the best responses and outlooks. He could only hope that despite his mistakes, he was following in their footsteps with his own kids—providing them the best life and support they could ask for. That he could comfort them as easily as his parents did.

He hoped that his comfort would be enough for Jimin.

---

He didn’t have to look very hard to find him. Within ten minutes, Jeongguk found him at the playground across from the bus stop. His back was to him, slumped against the chain of the swing he sat in. Jeongguk approached evenly, making sure that the crunch of gravel under his feet alerted him.

“It’s a bit cold out here.”

Jimin didn’t respond.

Jeongguk inhaled and exhaled slowly. He walked up to the other swing, sitting down gingerly. The old chain creaked under his weight, but it held. He peered at Jimin out of the corner of his eye distraught at the look on his face. The dim light of the streetlamp caught on the dried tear tracks on his face and highlighted the numb pain in his eyes. The pain of someone hurt in the same way far too many times before.

Hesitantly, Jeongguk reached out, fingers brushing over the slack grip Jimin had on the chains. Jimin jerked his hand away.

“Don’t,” he rasped. “I wouldn’t want you to catch the disease.”

“Hyung, don’t say that,” Jeongguk croaked, broken that he would think that. “You’re not a disease. No one is.”

“Really,” he drawled, voice dead. “Because apparently everyone thinks so. That or I’m going to jump their bones the second their back is turned.”

The crude phrasing made Jeongguk cringe. “Hyung-”

“Did Jihyun apologize?” Jimin interrupted, jaw tight. “Did he apologize to you?”

“...no.”

“That-” he ground his teeth, making Jeongguk’s nose scrunch. “I’m sorry Jeongguk-ah-” he cringed. “Jeongguk-shi.”

Jeongguk’s eyes went wide. “Why are you- hyung, you don’t need to go back to being formal with me. I-I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

Jimin bit his lip, eyes glued to the ground.

“I- I know you probably don’t want to associate with me anymore-”

“Hyung, what are you talking about?!” Jeongguk exclaimed. “Do you really- did you really think that I’m like Jihyun? That I hate you? Because I don’t. I could never.”

“What if what he said was true?”

Jeongguk stilled.

“About me having fantasies about you.”

Jimin looked up slowly, eyes questioning. His mouth was set in a firm line—Jeongguk couldn’t read him. He didn’t know if he was being serious or testing his loyalties. He took a deep breath.

“I still wouldn’t hate you. But if it was true, we would need to talk.” He said gently, holding his eyes. “Are you?”

“No,” he breathed.

“Then-”

“But I do find you attractive.”

Jeongguk tilted his head. “Thank you?”

“No, I-” Jimin huffed a laugh, though it was pained. “I-I’m attracted to you. In the way that you make me feel… things.”

Oh.

“You have feelings for me.”

Jimin sucked in a breath, looking toward the sky.

“Yes and no.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy and long. Jeongguk couldn’t take his eye off him, chest constricting at the guilt on his face.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk swallowed. “Hyung, you know I’m married.”

“I know.” He whispered, toeing the ground with his shoe.

His head was spinning. Too many things had happened tonight. Jimin having… feelings for him was the cherry on top of a metaphorical disaster cake. He didn’t know how to process it. And worst of all, the only thing he could think of was Heejin’s parting words.

But he couldn’t.

“Yes and no.” Jeongguk repeated, breathing out slowly. “What does that mean?”

Jimin chuckled, but it held no humor. “Jeongguk, you’re kind of the picture perfect boyfriend. You’re handsome, you’re funny, you love kids. You don’t shove down your emotions like other guys—you allow yourself to feel things. You, gosh,” he suddenly leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. “That stupid ship ride. You were so sweet and even though you pissed me off with all your fluttering, the fact that you cared and were willing to do that for me… It’s honestly hard not to look at you and wish that you were available.

“But at the same time, it’s because you’re unavailable that I don’t-” he sighed, sitting back up and looking back at him. He smiled weakly. “It’s like puppy love, Jeongguk. Nothing strong enough to stick around for a long time but also… there. You don’t have to worry about me confessing,” he paused. “Well, I guess I’m doing that now, aren’t I?”

“Just a little,” he rasped, feeling faint.

“Shit, I’m completely weirding you out, aren’t I?” Jimin cursed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to- I just want to be honest.”

“Hyung,” Jeongguk reached for his hand, but immediately thought better of it and pulled away. He knew Jimin saw the movement and wasn’t blind to the hurt that flashed through his eyes. But he knew that Jimin understood why. “You’re not weirding me out. And I appreciate you being honest. I just… I don’t know what to do now. Because I don’t want to stop hanging out with you, but at the same time I don’t want you to—as harsh as this sounds—continue to develop feelings for a married man. I can’t return your feelings, ever.”

“I know.” His gaze was steady. “I would never ask you to. And I don’t… I don’t want to stop hanging out with you either.”

“Then what do we do?” Jeongguk asked.

“Well, you don’t have to do anything.” Jimin chuckled. “Jeongguk, this isn’t my first time being attracted to people who are taken. I have bad luck like that. They’re either already involved, or hopelessly straight. Which, in your case, you’re both. I know how to be friends with people I have feelings for and not cross any lines. So if you still want to be friends, you don’t have to worry about me pushing my feelings on you or even worry about me pining. We’ll set boundaries and…” he took a deep breath. “I want to tell Heejin, make sure that she’s comfortable with me still behind around you. And after that, well, then we keep being friends and my feelings will fade.”

With those words, relief overtook him. Jeongguk rapidly blinked away his tears, sniffling quietly. Jimin’s eyes widened.

“Woah, are you alright? Did I say something-”

“I’m so glad.” He choked out. “I didn’t- Hyung I really don’t want to lose you as a friend but I also didn’t want to ask you to continue to be friends because I know how hard it is to be friends with someone you have feelings for.”

“Well,” he cracked a small smile. “That’s something you don’t have to worry about with me. I’ll get over you, Jeongguk. You’re not that special.”

“That shouldn’t be something I’m happy to hear.”

Jimin laughed, tilting his head back and tightening his grip on the chains of the swing so he wouldn’t fall. Jeongguk watched him for a moment, stomach twisting. He felt weird now, knowing that Jimin liked him but also knowing that he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Was that a strange feeling to have? A strange way to think? He didn’t know.

“Hyung, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He whispered. “That you were gay.”

Jimin gave him an unimpressed look. “I only dropped about a thousand hints. Carefully used the word ‘them’ while describing partners, trying to cue you into the fact that it didn’t have to be a woman. Telling you that I wouldn’t ever get married to a woman, the promise that I wouldn’t catch feelings for your wife—though she is beautiful, I’ll give you that.” Jeongguk chuckled as Jimin grinned. But his smile slipped. “And what I said about getting kids. Do you know how difficult it is for same sex couples to adopt in South Korea? Pretty difficult.”

With all of the points laid out in front of him, Jeongguk didn’t know how he didn’t catch on sooner.

“I’m kind of stupid, aren’t I?”

“Just a little,” Jimin giggled. “It didn’t even cross your mind that I might like men. You have very heterosexual thinking.”

“I didn’t think I did,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “But I guess I do.”

“It’s not a bad thing.” Jimin shrugged. “At least you’re not homophobic.”

“How did your brother end up like that?” Jeongguk asked, his anger returning. “I don’t get it. Out of all the people to be homophobic.”

“I came out near the end of high school. Told my parents and then Jihyun. Everything was fine. And then I told the people I thought were my friends.” Jimin explained quietly. He shook his head. “I quickly found out that they weren’t. It didn’t take long for the whole school to know. I got the worst of the backlash, but Jihyun got a lot of it too. Just because he was my little brother. And I had the luxury of getting out. 

“Jihyun… Jihyun didn’t. He had to deal with it all the time. And so, in order to get them off his back, he joined them.” He shrugged. “And when you allow yourself to say and think those things for a long time, part of you starts to believe it. He grew to resent me. And I can’t blame him. I just wish… I wish we could talk it out. And I’ve tried. He’s not ready.”

“I’m sorry, hyung. I’m so sorry that he said those things to you.” Jeongguk’s jaw clenched. “I wanted to hit him so bad, but I don’t like violence. Especially not in front of my kids.”

Jimin’s eyes went wide. “Oh my gosh. They saw all of that. Are they okay?! Is Heeseung alright?”

“He’s… been better.” He wasn’t going to lie. “He thought that you left because of him.”

“How did he…?” Jimin bit his lip. “Jeongguk, do you think he has abandonment trauma?”

“It could be a possibility.” He sighed. “I was starting to think that last night and then this happened… I’ll take care of it.”

“Let me know if you need any help.”

“I will, thanks hyung.” He bit the inside of his cheek. “Are we okay?”

“Yeah,” he gave Jeongguk a blinding smile. “We’re okay. At least, I am.”

“I’m okay too. Are you… are you ready to go back?”

Jimin tensed up. “I don’t… I don’t think I can go back there tonight.”

“Then that works out,” Jeongguk groaned as he pulled himself up and out of the swing, glaring at Jimin while he snickered. “My parents told me to bribe you to their house with the promise of hot chocolate and a movie.”

It was alarming how fast Jimin’s eyes filled with tears.

“Hyung…”

“Your parents are too good to me.” He sniffled, wiping at his eyes. “They, ugh, Jeongguk I hope you know how lucky you are to have parents like them. Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents. But yours…”

“I know,” he rasped. “They’re amazing, aren’t they?”

“And you’re going to be just like them.” Jimin laughed wetly. “I can already see it.”

Jeongguk outstretched out a hand, helping Jimin up and out of the swing. The touch of Jimin’s skin against his made the weird feeling bubble up again—he would have to get used to this.

“When you get a husband and adopt a few kids on your own,” he said quietly. “You’ll be just as good.”

That made Jimin cry harder. Jeongguk didn’t think much of it as he pulled Jimin into a hug. The older man buried his face in Jeongguk’s shoulder, clinging to him tightly.

He couldn’t explain the emotions tightening and churning in his chest.

Notes:

Going to talk about some serious stuff here in a bit. So please, stick around or skip right to it.

Chapter Thoughts:
1) I hate Jihyun.
2) I hate Jihyun.
3) Did I mention I hate Jihyun? No? Ah, okay. I HATE JIHYUN
4) GOOOOSH it made my physically sick to write what he saiiiid.
5) Don't be other people's therapists. It's okay once in a while, but try to see a professional if you can.
[Serious]
Okay, apparently I need to do this because I've been making a few people upset.

If at any point and time in the story or in the comments, I say or write something that doesn't sit right with you and you'd like to talk to me about it, please do. I am absolutely up for having a civil conversation with you and I don't want anything I write or say to long-term upset people. Maybe we're just misunderstanding each other, or maybe I actually did something wrong. I don't mind being called out for my mistakes as long as it's in a nice way. We can talk about it and you could help me understand the reasons why my ideas and thinking are flawed or if you misunderstood my intentions, I can give you more insight and hopefully clear the air.

You come on here to destress and read fanfiction. I don't want to detract from that.

Chapter 9

Jeongguk didn’t sleep. He tossed and turned throughout the night, his head a washing machine of thoughts. It looped three subjects: his kids, Heejin, and Jimin. Everytime, the cycle stopped on Jimin. He was proud of himself for acting calm as Jimin revealed his feelings, but without the buffer of trying to be a supportive friend, he was freaking out.

He kept thinking of the tired argument of men and women not being able to be friends because one party would always catch feelings for the other. This was a different situation, but the complications that arose if such a thing happened were the same. Jeongguk always thought that men and women could be friends with no issues, but now that he was experiencing those complicated feelings, he wasn’t so sure.

That wasn’t the point.

The best course of action Jeongguk should take is to put distance between him and Jimin. He knew that was the best choice for both of them, even if it would hurt them.

But he couldn’t.

He didn’t want to.

Jeongguk chuckled emotionlessly to himself, rubbing his hands over his face.

He was a selfish man. Despite Jimin’s assurances that he’d done this before and been alright, that didn’t erase the hurt it must have caused. Being around someone you knew you couldn’t have… Jeongguk shook his head, rolling over. And here he was, encouraging them to spend more time together when both of them should have space until they both figured out this situation.

A thought was uncovered, making him groan and shove his face into his pillow.

He agreed to stay with Jimin for his remaining week.

How was he going to do that with everything hanging over their heads? The mere thought of it made him feel guilty, like he was doing something wrong. It was a sure sign he’d need to talk to Heejin and ask if she was alright with that-

I give you permission to do whatever you want, as if we never made any vows in the first place.

Jeongguk made sure he was suffocating himself thoroughly with the pillow before screaming in frustration and anger. It did nothing to make him feel better. Knowing sleep evaded him fully, Jeongguk dragged himself out of bed.

It was still dark enough that he had to guide his way through the hall and down the stairs with a hand on the wall, squinting in the low light. He carefully made his way to the kitchen, cursing softly when he opened the fridge and was blinded by the light. Blinking rapidly, he reached for a bottle of banana milk with fumbling fingers-

“Grab me one too?”

Jeongguk jolted, managing to smack his head on the edge of the freezer door. With a hiss of pain, he sank into a crouch, cradling his head.

His heart twisted as familiar, giggly laughter reached his ears. He mentally steeled himself before glancing up at Jimin with watery eyes.

“You have a talent,” he rasped. “For making me lose brain cells in the stupidest way.”

“I have to dumb everyone down to my level somehow,” he smiled, but it was weak. The light from the still open fridge made it clear that Jimin got as much sleep as Jeongguk. “Is your head okay?”

Deja vu swept over him, making him smile against his will. Jimin must have caught the echo of previous words, because his smile strengthened.

In that single moment, Jeongguk knew they were okay. It didn’t matter what happened after this—they would make it through this awkward and unsure time.

“I’m alright. Though,  I think I’m going to have a permanent bump on my head.” He teased, rising. He grabbed two cartons, holding out one to him. Jimin took it with a snort, finding his response unworthy of a reply.

Neither of them took a seat at the table, choosing to lean against the counters. Jeongguk sipped away at the milk quietly, glancing at Jimin every so often. He was spaced out, fingers tapping a syncopated rhythm against the countertops as he stared at his feet. His face and eyes were a bit swollen from sleep and the crying he did yesterday, and he was drowning a bit in one of Jeonho’s shirts.

“Are you heading back today?” Jeongguk finally asked, voice hushed in the din of the morning.

Jimin nodded, making the single strand of hair sticking up in the back of his head bounce. Jeongguk tried not to choke in laughter at the sight. “What time were you thinking of leaving?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, head twisting towards the window. Jeongguk followed his line of sight, able to see a corner of red from the Mercedes still in the Park’s driveway. “It really doesn’t matter as long as I can get to Seoul by eight tomorrow. I should leave this evening at the latest.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek. “You make it sound like you don’t want to leave.”

Jimin finally looked at him, sporting the same tired smile as earlier. “It’s not that I don’t want to leave. Seoul is where my life is. It’s where my friends are. But at the same time I’ll be saying goodbye to Heeseung and  Jungwon.” He shook his head, laughing a little. “Yesterday I was tempted to call in and increase my vacation, but then you told me that your parents were taking the kids so I wouldn’t be able to spend time with them anyway.”

“It’s not like you’re saying goodbye forever.”

“I know. I just wish I had a little more time.”

“If you wanted to, you could still take the time off and spend it with me. I’m not sure what I was supposed to do while you were at work anyway.”

He didn’t really think much of the words when he said them, but Jimin’s surprised eyes cued him in.

“I-”

“You still want to stay with me?” He interrupted, the hope clear in his voice. Jeongguk set down his empty carton, smiling awkwardly.

“Unless that’s not okay anymore?”

“I don’t have an issue with it. I thought you would be uncomfortable by the idea.”

“I was more worried about it being unfair to you.” He admitted cautiously. “I- you said that you know how to navigate this situation, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Just be yourself.” Jimin answered immediately, eyes soft. “You don’t have to be courteous to me—I’m the one who caused the problem so let me be the one to fix it. You don’t have to do anything aside from what you’re already doing and making your boundaries clear. Don’t be afraid to tell me if I’m crossing a line. I’m an adult, I can handle it.”

I don’t know what my boundaries are. I don’t know where I stand with you at all. Though he wanted to, he didn’t say the thoughts that crossed his mind.

“What about your boundaries?” Jeongguk asked quietly. “You’ll tell me if I’m doing something that’s… that’s not helping, right?”

Jimin nodded, and they both fell into silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, per say, but it was a little awkward. But talking with Jimin had calmed Jeongguk’s mind. Everything didn’t seem as difficult as before. Jimin made it sound—no, he made it easier. He was confident in the way he spoke. It made Jeongguk wonder how many times this happened before-

“Is your wife awake?”

Jeongguk’s eyes darted to the time on the microwave before flicking back to Jimin. The carton in his hands was a bit dented and he worried into his bottom lip, eyes—once again—on the floor. Jeongguk’s chest tightened with panic, not helped by the second hand anxiety he could read from Jimin’s body.

“She should be.” Jeongguk could see her in their home office, slouched in the chair as she read over some papers or put together a presentation.

“I think,” Jimin cleared his throat. “I think it would be best to talk to her now. Before we solidify plans or… continue with our friendship.”

A  small, desperate part of Jeongguk wanted to argue that Heejin didn’t have a say. But she did, even as those stupid words crossed his mind again. Heejin had the right to know, and Jimin was being responsible by wanting to tell her.

Jeongguk swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Let me go get my phone.”

The trek to his temporary bedroom was far too long yet passed in a flash. Too soon, Jeongguk was staring down at his phone. Would she even answer? Had she unblocked him?

Jeongguk licked his dry lips as he hit her speed dial, not wanting to try with Jimin to see.

He was surprised when the call went through.

“I listened to your advice.” Her voice was drenched in humor, but it sounded wrong. Rough and forced. “Hand me over to Heeseung.”

Jeongguk took a deep breath. He had forgotten that the last time they talked, it had ended in an argument. He didn’t know how he forgot, but he had.

And now, he had to try to explain to Heejin that he wasn’t calling to let her talk to Heeseung, but because Jimin was downstairs, waiting to tell her everything he had told Jeongguk the night before.

“Uhm. I didn’t call you because Heeseung wanted to talk.” He forced out, slowly making his way to the door.

“What?”

“I uh- okay, so something happened last night and Jimin wanted to-”

“Jeongguk, I’m only catching about half of that. You know my Korean isn't good.”

Jeongguk's mouth worked wordlessly for a second before he laughed. “I’m sorry! I didn’t even realize.”

“I figured. Now, what did you say about Jimin?”

Somehow, even though they were miles away from each other, the tension between them was thick and strong. Jeongguk could hear the disapproval in her voice. It made his grip on the phone tighten. She didn’t even know him.

“He wants to talk to you.” His stomach twisted nervously. If Heejin already disliked Jimin now, what would she say and think after Jimin told her…?

“Oh. I- okay. How’s his English?”

“Good.” Jeongguk slipped out the door and hurried downstairs. Jimin was where he left him, though now looking pale and nervous, twisting his hands together.

Jeongguk wanted to take his hand in his, rub his fingers over the smooth skin and smile. Tell him that it was alright.

The thought had left that strange, weird feeling in his stomach that Jeongguk still couldn’t identify.

 “Jimin-hyung.”

Jimin’s head shot up. Jeongguk pointed to the phone, frowning in alarm when Jimin’s face went white. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed harshly, breathing out shakily.

“Jeongguk?”

“Be nice to him,” Jeongguk whispered, not tearing his eyes away from Jimin’s. “It’s taking a lot of courage for him to tell you this—it took a ton for him to even tell me.” 

Jimin’s eyes flooded with tears. He tilted his head up, rapidly blinking them away. Then, with trembling fingers, he asked for the phone.

“I’m handing you over now.”

“O-okay.”

Jimin put the phone to his ear, shrinking back against the counter . Jeongguk stood opposite, not knowing if he should stay or leave.

“Hello, Heejin-shi.” Jimin said quietly. “I’m sorry for asking to speak with you like this… I’m sure you were alarmed.” He paused before a weak smile came over his lips. It was interesting to watch Jimin react to what she said as if he were talking to her in person. “It was no trouble at all—Heeseung had a lot of fun. I’m-” his face crumpled. “I’m really sorry. I- I’m so so sorry.”

Jeongguk could only hear one side of the conversation, but it was heartbreaking to see. Jimin explained to her everything he had told Jeongguk last night. He told it in hitching sobs as he tugged at his hair, bit his lip to stop it’s trembling, and glared at the ceiling as tears leaked from his eyes. All throughout it, he never stopped apologizing.

“-promise that I’d never… I’ll never do anything. Our friendship is what matters to me and that’s what I want. Nothing else.”

Silence spread throughout the room. Jeongguk strained his ears, trying to pick up Heejin’s voice, but there was nothing. Jimin bit his lip.

“Heejin-shi… please say something. I-” he cut himself off, brow furrowing. “Told me what?”

Jeongguk froze. Jimin’s eyes flickered up to him, confused. “I-” His eyes widened slightly and his gaze dropped from Jeongguk’s. “You don’t- you don’t care? I-I mean obviously you care but-” his lips parted. “Are you sure? No! No! I just wanted to make sure that you weren't going to be uncomfortable-”

Jimin went silent for a long time.

Jeongguk wished that he had put it on speaker. Then he could know exactly what Heejin was saying to him. His heart thundered in his chest—she wasn’t telling him that they were on the brink of divorce, right? She wouldn’t tell that to someone who just confessed that they had feelings for her husband. She wanted to stay with Jeongguk just as much as he wanted… needed to stay with her.  She wouldn’t… encourage anything.

But she had.

She did.

Her words echoed hauntingly in Jeongguk’s mind. It wasn’t even an option, so Jeongguk didn’t know why he kept thinking about what she said.

“Okay,” Jimin finally whispered. “Okay. Thank you for not,” he huffed. “I don’t know, yelling at me? You, uhm, I feel like most people wouldn’t be as calm as you in this kind of situation, so thank you. Oh! And I’d like to give you my number, just in case you change your mind- no please, I insist.” He smiled at the air, laughing at something Heejin said. Jeongguk’s heart twisted. Something about them getting along made everything hurt, but also made him so happy.

He couldn’t help but beam at Jimin as he handed the phone back—Jimin returned the smile with just as much enthusiasm, relaxed and happy himself.

Jeongguk’s happiness came crashing down as Heejin spoke.

“You need to tell him.”

“Heejin-”

“You said that you didn’t want any regrets.” She whispered.

“Do you need me to leave the room?” Jimin rasped. His smile was gone, wiped away by the expression Jeongguk made. He nodded numbly, and Jimin immediately slipped away. He waited a few seconds before replying, keeping his voice low.

“I’m not going to have any. What are you asking me to do, Heejin?”

“Nothing I- you just need to tell him.”

“Telling him is unnecessary. I- I thought about it, Heejin.” He took a deep breath, eyes squeezing shut. “We’re not- we’re not separating.”

She was quiet for a heavy moment before she sucked in a deep breath. Voice wet with tears she whispered, “Do you realize that you don’t sound happy at all when you say that?”

Jeongguk’s heart dropped. She knew. Of course she knew.

“I think you need more time to think. I don’t… Jeongguk do you really know yourself?”

“I-”

“What’s the first thing that you say to describe yourself?”

Two words immediately flashed through his mind. 

“Father and husband.”

“And?” 

It took him a second to answer, mind stalling for a second. And that was all the answer Heejin needed.

“Find yourself, Jeongguk. Let everything you know about yourself go. You need to… allow yourself to do things. To try things. You’ve always been trying to fill this role of this perfect husband and it’s suffocated you to the point that you don’t know how to be anything else.”

That’s not true, he wanted to say. But his heart was racing, telling him that it was.

“You’re scared of losing that part of yourself because you can’t think of anything that can take its place. So…” She inhaled shakily. “Go out. Have fun. Don’t think, just do. Every impulse you get, follow through with it. Find something that you can throw yourself into and love full heartedly. You need to know who you are.”

Jeongguk swallowed harshly.

“You still have a week, Jeongguk. Don’t rush. I’m still… I’m still going to be here by the end.”

“Okay,” he rasped.

“Are the boys around?”

“No, they’re still asleep. You’ll probably want to call my parents to see them and talk to them for the next week. My parents are going to Jeju tomorrow morning and taking them along.”

“You’re not going with them?”

Jeongguk fiddled with the edge of his shirt. “No, uh. My mom thought I would need some time to think without… distractions.”

“Oh. That makes sense- I’m sorry I should have kept the boys with me.”

“Don’t apologize.” He chuckled. “I think it was good for them to be with me.”

“So… you’re going to be at the house, all alone?”

“Well, not exactly. I…” Jimin hadn’t told her, so Jeongguk guessed it was up to him. “I was actually going to stay in Seoul with Jimin-hyung.” He whispered. “Is that okay?”

“...yeah. That’s fine, Jeongguk. I- you know what I told you.”

“Stop that,” he snapped. Heejin went quiet and Jeongguk took a deep breath to collect himself. “You can’t… you can’t keep reminding me of that. I don’t- Heejin, I don’t want that. And saying things like that after- It’s not fair to me or to Jimin. Especially after he had the courage and sensibility to tell you. Basically telling me to… to take advantage of that just because it’s there isn’t right.”

I couldn’t do that to Jimin.

The words, I’m not even gay, rested on the tip of his tongue, but they didn’t feel appropriate to say.

“I don’t want that,” he repeated. “And I know you don’t want it either.”

“I don’t.” Her voice cracked. “I just- part of me wants you to do something. To hook up with someone and tell me just so I know… just so I know how much pain I put you through. Jeongguk I- I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I know,” he croaked.

They were quiet.

Then Heejin whispered, “I’m meeting with Yugeyeom tomorrow.”

Pain lanced in Jeongguk’s chest.

“Just to talk. I wanted to clear the air… he was a friend before anything else.” She paused. “But if you don’t want me to go, I won’t go.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, accidentally tearing some skin. Iron filled his mouth.

“Go.”

Ask.

“Heejin?”

“Yeah?”

Jeongguk’s hands were trembling. “When you talked to Heeseung last time… I heard you leave the room. Were you with someone?”

He held his breath.

“I- Jeongguk,” She sounded broken. “I was with my sister. She’s been staying with me since-”

Guilt and horror buried deep into his soul. This whole time he had thought- “I’m sorry. I didn't mean-”

“You had the right to ask. You-” She was crying. Jeongguk had made her cry. “I broke your trust, and that’s something that’s going to take a long time to rebuild. Yes, it hurts that you thought…” She exhaled shakily. “But I know why you would. I would think the same thing.”

He buried his face in his hands, cheeks wet. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Jeongguk. It’s okay. I- I should go.”

“Have… have a good day.”

She laughed wetly. “It’s night here, Jeongguk.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Well… goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

As they hung up, they did not say ‘I love you’.

Notes:

Yes, yes I know it's a short chapter. I tried to make it around 5k, but it just wasn't working that way.

Sorry for the long absence! Here are my excuses: 1) Nanowrimo focus on WTR (my other multi-chapter fic) 2) College finals 3) Lack of wanting to write 4) Once again, focus on WTR because it's my main fic

I know the writing here might be a little... bleh. When I don't write continuously I tend to get a little sloppy... sorry, I'll try to fix that and get better.

Chapter 10

Notes:

Uh. Hi.

Jeongguk didn’t get the chance to ask about Jimin and Heejin’s conversation. Heeseung came stumbling down the stairs and woke up the rest of the house with his scream of Jimin’s name. Jeongguk was forced to try and soothe Jungwon back to sleep—it wasn’t even six in the morning yet—but was unsuccessful. It turned out to be an early morning for the Jeons as his father rose to make breakfast while his mother went back to sleep until it was ready.

Heeseung was inseparable from Jimin, demanding he play with him and soaking up all his attention. Watching the two of them interact, Jeongguk found himself turning to his sketchbook again, filling two pages with pencil lines of his son and Jimin.

Jimin stayed well into Sunday afternoon until the Mercedes was gone. He briefly went to his parents, returning with Bam by his side and bags in hand. He said goodbye to the boys—Jeongguk pretended to not see the tears in Jimin’s eyes as he pressed a kiss to Jungwon’s hair before crouching down to hug Heeseung.

“I’ll see you again, right Uncle?” Heeseung sniffled.

Jimin’s eyes disappeared. “Of course! You’ll see me when you get back from Jeju. In the meantime, you’re going to have a fantastic time with your grandparents, okay?”

He nodded, his grip on Jimin’s shirt curling tighter. Jimin pulled him in tight, smile dipping the moment Heeseung couldn’t see him anymore. If Jeongguk hadn’t been there to see their relationship grow, he would have been confused about their attachment to each other. He was most certainly going to start planning yearly trips. Jimin was a cemented part of their lives now—there was no getting rid of him.

“Uncle,” Heeseung mumbled. “I have to say bye to Bam too.”

“Alright, alright.” Jimin squeezed him tighter, fingers wiggling against his sides and making him squeal and try to push away. Jimin grinned, eyes shining as he released him. He smacked a kiss against his forehead, ruffling his hair afterward and standing. Heeseung skipped over to Bam, throwing his arms around the dog’s neck.

His eyes didn’t leave Heeseung, allowing Jeongguk to stare at him unabashedly. It became clear to him that Jimin didn’t realize how much he meant to Jeongguk’s little family. Jeongguk may not have known him for long, but from what he’d seen and what his family had to say about him he knew that Jimin had a lot of love to give.

He didn’t seem to realize that he was just as easy to love as he was giving it.

Platonically, his mind whispered. Almost an afterthought.

“Jimin.”

He looked over, eyes glassy. Jeongguk gave him a gentle smile.

“You’re the one that insisted on being part of the family—we’re not going to let you leave.”

He laughed wetly. “What if I want to leave?”

“You’ll need my mom’s permission.”

“I guess I’m stuck then.” He grinned, happy and bright, but too soon it was gone, dropping into an almost pained look. 

“This isn’t…” he took a deep breath. “This isn’t going to be like those crappy movies where we make promises to keep in touch but when we part ways we never talk to each other again, right?”

Jeongguk’s heart sank.

“I was going to join you in Seoul tomorrow.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Oh! I thought-”

“If you don’t want me to come anymore I-”

“No!” He exclaimed. “I mean, yes! I- that’s not what I was-” he cut himself off, laughing breathlessly as he ran a hand through his hair, brown strands falling through his fingers to brush against his forehead.

“After you talked with Heejin you seemed a little… off, so I thought that maybe she didn’t want you to go.” He explained, lips pulling up into an awkward smile. “I was waiting for you to—I don’t know—break the news to me.”

He noticed. Jeongguk tried so hard to keep it under wraps but he still noticed. The worst part was, he couldn’t even tell if Jimin was just observant or if Jeongguk didn’t hide it well at all.

“She said it was fine,” he said.

Jimin nodded, the corner of his mouth tugging out of the awkward smile into a small, real one.

“I like her,” he murmured, quiet and genuine. “Not that you need my approval or anything—honestly—but… she’s funny. And sweet.”

Something twisted in Jeongguk’s chest.

“She wasn’t mean to you or anything? She didn’t… say anything?”

Jimin shook his head, starting to grin. “She was very nice. But I don’t know if that’s because of what you said or if she’s always that way.”

Heejin had always been courteous with strangers. She would offer them wide smiles and gentle laughs. She had a way of making the people around her comfortable with a small joke and a smirk.

Jeongguk couldn’t remember the last time she genuinely smiled or laughed.

“She’s always been that way,” he breathed, chest and throat tightening. “You- how did she take it?”

Jimin’s grin fell. His eyes shifted to the ground, guilt and pain filling his expression.

“Surprisingly well,” he whispered, the words drenched in self-loathing. “She wasn’t angry. Stunned. I think. I-” he ran a hand through his hair again, almost frustrated. “The whole time we talked I couldn’t help but get the feeling that she understood-” 

He cut himself off, eyes flashing with panic as they jerked up to meet Jeongguk’s.

“Not that I- oh gosh. I’m not implying that she- that came out so wrong.”

Jimin didn’t know he was right. Jeongguk didn’t even know that Jimin was right until he said it and the words from that awful night came crashing back over his ears.

“Do you love Yugyeom?”

“I could, I think. If I really wanted to.”

She didn’t love him.

But that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything there.

Heejin did understand Jimin. She understood him better than Jeongguk did.

The difference between them was that she acted on it while Jimin chose to take a step back and tell Jeongguk. To warn him against himself, not wanting to hurt his marriage.

Jimin was still babbling apologies, getting paler by the second. They cut off when Jeongguk took his hand, squeezing gently.

“It’s okay, hyung. I know what you mean.” Far more than you understand. “I’m not offended.”

As if to make sure, Jimin’s eyes flickered across his face, searching. His shoulders slowly dropped, relaxing. He glanced down at their hands.

“Boundaries,” he suddenly said. 

Jeongguk blinked at him.

He immediately dropped Jimin’s hand, blood draining from his face.

“I’m so sorry-”

Jimin broke out into giggles, reaching out to take his hand again. Jeongguk let him, confused.

“That’s not what I meant,” he grinned. “Holding hands is fine, I do that with my friends all the time.” He squeezed Jeongguk’s hand before letting go. “We should talk about boundaries tomorrow once we’ve both had some time to think. 

“And as for Heejin, your wife said that she didn’t have any boundaries she wanted me to keep.”

His eyes went soft as he smiled up at him, happy and… proud.

“She trusts you a lot, Jeongguk.”

Jimin didn’t know how much those words broke him.

“It makes me happy, knowing that she cares so much about you.”

Stop, please.

“I guess I understand why you talk about her the way you do.” He giggled. The sound grated at his ears. “She’s special.”

Jeongguk opened his mouth.

“I-”

“Daaaaad! Come give Bam a hug too!”

In that moment, Jeongguk knew that he would have said something that he’d regret for the rest of his life.

Naturally, Jeongguk grabbed for the safety rope his five-year-old unintentionally threw him.

“Alright, I’m coming,” he said hurriedly, brushing past Jimin.

Jeongguk couldn’t say what he was going to say. He couldn’t let it slip past his lips. He wanted Jimin to keep saying things like that, things that put Heejin in a good light. He wanted Jimin to like her, to understand why Jeongguk loved her and wanted to stay with her. In a twisted and wrong way, Jeongguk needed someone who only knew her good sides—someone who would remind him why he should stay.

As he crouched next to Heeseung and let Bam lick his chin, he made up his mind.

Jimin would never know that Jeongguk’s purpose here was to decide whether to divorce his wife or not.

Jimin would never know that Heejin cheated on him for nearly a year.

He already know too much and Jeongguk was terrified of what would happen if he knew anymore.

Jeongguk would never tell him.

---

Jimin was waiting for him at the KTX station when Jeongguk stepped out, bags in hands.

Kim Taehyung was with him.

He wore a mask and a hat, covering most of his facial features. The only reason Jeongguk guessed that it was him was because of the way he hung off of Jimin’s shoulders.

“Jeongguk-ah!” Jimin called, elbowing Taehyung in the stomach to get rid of his leech. A thrill of vindictive glee ran up his spine at the small noise of pain he made as he released Jimin from his suffocating grasp.

“Hey,” Jeongguk greeted, squashing the feeling as fast as it had come. “You didn’t have to come pick me up.”

“I wanted to,” he grinned. “It’s not like I had anything else to do.”

“Uhm. Rude.” Taehyung shuffled forward. “I’ve been with you this whole time.”

Jeongguk’s lips parted in surprise.

“Uhm. I didn’t realize you two… did that. Together.” He bit his cheek, embarrassed by what he was saying. “Sorry I shouldn’t have said anything about it.”

There was a pause.

Jimin’s eyes went wide in acute horror.

“You’ve got it all wrong!” He spluttered, waving his hands frantically and shaking his head. His entire face was bright red. “We don’t- we’ve never-”

He let out a high whine, burying his face in his hands.

“Tae, please explain.”

His eyebrow raised. “Explain what?”

“Tae.”

It took a second, his eyes darting between them and filled with confusion before his eyes sparked in understanding.

“Oooohhhhh.” He drew out the word. “I meant that Jiminie and I were hanging out before he announced that he needed to come pick you up. Not that I was there and available for him to do me-”

“That’s enough,” Jimin squeaked, resurfacing from his hands. He gave Jeongguk a serious yet pleading look. “Taehyung and I are strictly platonic. We don’t-” he flapped a hand at the sky. “That. We don’t do that.”

“Well,” the actor mused. “There was that one time-”

Jeongguk’s eyes widened.

Jimin whirled on him, pointing a stern finger at his chest. “We vowed to never speak of it again.” A glance at Jeongguk. “We were drunk.”

“But Jiminie~” he clutched at his chest, whining. “I had fun.”

“I didn’t.” He shuddered, face pinching in disgust. “Kissing you felt like kissing a girl.”

Jeongguk choked on the unexpected laughter that spilled out of his mouth. The friends turned to him, eyebrows raised and it only made Jeongguk laugh more.

“Sorry,” he managed. “It was funny.”

Taehyung nodded sagely. “I too find Jimin’s lack of appreciation for my lips funny.”

“You’re lucky I appreciate you at all.” Jimin snarked, turning away. To Jeongguk he smiled sweetly and said, “My car is over here.”

“You wound me,” Taehyung gasped. “This is injustice. After all I’ve done for you. I’ve worshiped the ground you walk on- no, I’ve worshiped your body-” 

Jimin snorted.

“Telling me I have a nice ass is not worship, but thank you.”

Jeongguk nearly startled when Taehyung leaned over to him.

“He does have a nice ass.”

“Tae.”

Jeongguk wasn’t thinking.

“You kinda do though.”

Jimin whipped around, eyes and mouth wide. He misstepped, foot sliding off the curb. Both Taehyung and Jeongguk jerked forward, but Jimin caught himself on a car parked on the side of the street with a hiss of pain.

Taehyung was at his side before Jeongguk could even let go of his bag.

“Are you okay? Did you twist your ankle? Where does it hurt?” Concerned questions streamed out of Taehyung’s mouth. He put a hand to the small of Jimin’s back, the other wrapping around his wrist. He led him to a nearby bench, and Jimin went without complaint, sinking down to it and then immediately bending to check his ankle.

Jeongguk finally unstuck his frozen legs, taking large strides to the pair.

“Are you-”

“I’m okay.” Jimin breathed out, relief evident in his voice. “It’s not sprained. Thank goodness.”

Oh. Jimin was a dancer. If he had sprained his ankle…

“I’m sorry,” he rasped, guilty. “I didn’t mean-”

Jimin lifted his eyes, something flashing across them. He swallowed, eyes darting up to Taehyung before he closed them.

“It’s fine, Jeongguk.” He opened his eyes, pinning Jeongguk was a serious look. “But you can’t say something like that again.”

This is a boundary, he realized.

“I’m okay with other compliments, but not something physical.” His cheeks were tinted with the words, but he held eye contact and kept his voice steady.

“Okay.” Jeongguk didn’t sound as near put together. He felt weird, actually. Confused. He didn’t know why he would say something like that, even if it was true-

What was he even thinking?

“You told him.”

Jeongguk looked up. Taehyung had lowered his mask, the back fabric resting under his chin. He stared down at Jimin was an unreadable expression, but Jimin must have gotten something from it because he shrank under the look, defeated.

“I did.”

Belatedly, Jeongguk realized that Taehyung knew about Jimin’s feelings. How long had he known? No, how long had Jimin been feeling something for him to tell his friend about it? Jeongguk had never asked him how long he felt that way towards him.

I don’t want to know, he thought desperately, trying to kill off the curiosity begging him to ask. It was cruel. He was already reading too much into their past interactions. He didn’t need to have confirmation that Jimin may have felt something during them.

Taehyung turned to Jeongguk, eyes narrowed.

“Don’t do anything that will hurt him.”

“Tae,” Jimin hissed. “You don’t-”

“I’d never intentionally hurt him.” Jeongguk nearly growled. “Never.”

They stared each other down. Something dark and heavy swelled in Jeongguk’s chest, intermingling with the protective instincts that flared up.

How dare he insinuate that Jeongguk would hurt Jimin? How dare he-

Taehyung smiled.

All of the emotions shrunk away, leaving a question mark.

“Good,” he chirped, boxy and lopsided. “Then we won’t have any issues. I think we got off on the wrong foot the other day. I’d like to apologize and properly introduce myself.”

He stuck out his hand, holding his arm with the other. Jeongguk’s body automatically copied him and they shook hands firmly.

“I’m Kim Taehyung, Jiminie’s soulmate.”

“Jeongguk Jeon- er, Jeon Jeongguk I guess.” He smiled, embarrassed at his slip-up but also very confused at the sudden change in atmosphere and mood between them. Though… he did appreciate it.

Jimin did as well because his whole body sagged in relief. He reached over to jab Taehyung in the side.

“I told you that you had nothing to worry about.” He said over his yelp. “Jeonggukie isn’t like that.”

“I was worried!” He whined. “You’re kind of a doormat, Jiminie.”

“That is definitely not true,” Jimin laughed, getting to his feet. He glanced at Jeongguk, a quiet question in his eyes.

Are we okay?

Jeongguk grinned. “I have to agree with Jimin, he’s not a doormat.”

We’re okay.

“Well, I’ve known Jiminie longer.” Taehyung crossed his arms over his chest. Jimin rolled his eyes, leading the charge again. Jeongguk watched him walk, making sure that he wasn’t favoring one leg over the other. He wasn’t.

“I’ve seen Jimin throw a punch.” Jeongguk challenged.

He immediately regretted it—where was his filter today?—but Jimin just laughed.

“That you have. It was a good one too.”

Taehyung frowned.

“Jihyun?”

“Jihyun.” Jimin and Jeongguk confirmed together.

“Did you get a hit in too?” Taehyung asked curiously, coming to walk on Jeongguk’s right side. He was now squished between the two friends.

“I didn’t. I don’t really like violence.”

“Ah. You’re going to have a hard time being friends with Jimin then. Violence is second nature to him- ow! SEE?!”

Jimin, who had reached around Jeongguk to slap Taehyung’s arm, glared at him.

“I only abuse you because you’re intent on making me look bad.”

“I could never. I only paint you in the best light. Like the winged devil you are-”

Taehyung yelped again and Jeongguk burst into laughter.

This is good for me, he thought fondly, stuck in the middle of the two bickering friends.

This is good.

Chapter 11

Notes:

Hey! I'm back guys. Thank you for waiting for me. I realized I never gave ya'll the explanation of why I suddenly took a hiatus, so look to the end notes for that!

This chapter is dedicated to FlowersInTheValley, for yelling at me to write. I did! It just... took longer to finish the chapter XD

I hope you enjoy!

Watching Jimin flutter around his apartment with nervous, apologetic energy amused him. From his seat on the couch, he had a clear view of him as he rummaged through his bag, picked up and dropped his keys, and double checked he had his phone. Taehyung sat on the same couch as Jeongguk, a cushion between them, watching with his own amused expression. His was laced with adoration, though.

“Again, I’m really, really sorry,” he breathed, running a hand through his brown hair. “I’ll be back sometime around five and then I have tomorrow off-”

“It’s okay, Jimin-hyung,” he reassured, fingers twitching with the need to zip Jimin’s bag up so he stopped obsessively making sure he had what he needed. He was stalling, and he was running out of time to do so, if the amount of times he checked his watch was any indication. “You warned me that you would have work.”

Jeongguk hadn’t known what he was supposed to do with the pair when the three of them took the elevator up to Jimin’s apartment. His nerves were eased by the friendly banter that Jimin kept up with Taehyung and he effortlessly invited Jeongguk into the conversation multiple times. He was a natural socializer, and Jeongguk couldn’t help but be a little jealous.

When they all stepped into Jimin’s apartment, Jeongguk set his bags aside just in time to catch the paws that landed on his chest from Bam jumping up on him. He giggled at the playful licks he got, both him and the dog ignoring Jimin’s scolding. His nervousness all but disappeared at that point as Jimin directed him to where he could set his bag. He got an impromptu tour through the apartment—as if he didn’t already know the layout from spending the night on Friday—until Jimin checked the clock and did a double take. He swore as he reluctantly announced he’d have to head to work soon.

Leading to now, watching him fidget as he pocketed his keys and slipped on a jacket. He peered down at him in dismay.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay? I feel like such a jerk, saying you could stay with me and then I’m leaving-”

Jeongguk chuckled. “I think I can take care of myself for a few hours.”

Truthfully, he didn’t know what he’d do. He entertained the idea of exploring Seoul, since he actually didn’t know the city very well.  He had a few sketches he had started that he needed to finish too. Other than that… he was a bit lost. Having free time like this was foreign. He was with his kids, and when he wasn’t he was cleaning up after them. At least he would have Bam to keep him company, something that Jimin was also apologizing for, since Jeongguk didn’t sign up to dog sit. Surely Jimin had to know Jeongguk would gladly do so, vicariously fulfilling a wish he’d had since he figured out he was partial to dobermans when it came to dog breeds. The only issue with it was that he’d have a hard time convincing himself not to adopt a doberman when he returned to Florida.

“Okay, okay,” he relented. He picked up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “The spare key card to get into the building  is on the kitchen table and I’ll text you the code to the gate and the apartment—in case you want to go out. Bam is okay to be left alone if you crate him and-”

“Jiminie,” Taehyung spoke up, his baritone teasing. “Don’t mistake Jeongguk for one of his kids.”

Jimin flushed. “I’m not.”

“I’ll be here to keep him company-” wait, what? “So stop worrying and quit making yourself late.”

He missed Jimin’s response, too busy staring at Taehyung, shocked. They may have restarted, but he didn’t expect the man to volunteer to hang out with him. He was still wrapping his head around the knowledge that Taehyung’s dislike of him had been fueled by the idea that Jeongguk was somehow trying to hurt Jimin. He’d known about Jimin’s feelings, and since he knew Jeongguk’s marital status, he understood the concern. But what Jeongguk still couldn’t make a connection on was why Taehyung had been giving him the shifty eyes. Yes, Jimin was his soulmate, but the logical response would be to worry about what the person with feelings would do. Wasn’t it? Jeongguk felt like a heel thinking like that, but he tried to understand the man's way of thinking.

He snapped out of his thoughts when Taehyung stood, easily wrapping Jimin into his arms. He watched for a second before averting his gaze. He couldn’t quite help peering at them out of the corner of his eye. They traded kisses on the cheek, both grinning impossibly wide before Taehyung let him go with a pat on the backside. He flopped back down on the couch, immediately addressing Bam’s plea for attention as the dog put his head on his knee.

Jimin turned to Jeongguk, arms lifting almost expectantly. He paused, biting his lip sheepishly.

“It’s a house rule,” he explained. “No one leaves without a hug.”

How could Jeongguk argue against that? Grinning, he stood and slung his arms around Jimin. It ended up being far more bro-ish than their previous hugs. Granted, the previous times he’d hugged Jimin had been for comfort, following emotionally draining conversations. As Jimin pulled away, he found himself wishing it had been like their others instead. An… odd thought to have.

The brown-haired man abandoned him for Bam. The dog put its paws on his shoulders, licking his cheek. He’d obviously been trained for hugs, something Jeongguk may or may not try to take advantage of later. Kissing his head dramatically, Jimin rose out of his crouch with a bright smile.

“I’ll be back,” he promised, as if he was simply leaving for a grocery run. Really, the dramatics of this gave Jeongguk the vibe that Jimin was leaving for a month-long trip rather than work.

“Bye, Jimin-hyung.” He grinned at him. Jimin returned the smile before he left, the door clicking quietly behind him.

He sat back down on the couch. His gaze darted between Bam and Taehyung. His nerves returned, trickling over his skin faster the longer neither of them said anything. He didn’t know Taehyung, and without the barrier of his kids, Jeongguk was reminded of how terribly introverted he was. He knew the proper conversations to have with someone fawning over his children. He didn’t know how to interact one-on-one with someone who wasn’t a parent that he didn’t have any common known interests with.

“Sooo,” Taehyung drawled, nearly making Jeongguk startle. He flashed a boxy grin, and Jeongguk was hit again with the thought that Taehyung was far too handsome for it to all be natural. Surely he had some work done, but that was rude of him to think. “Do you like video games?”

---

Jeongguk hadn’t played MarioKart with someone who wasn’t a child in ages.

“If you throw that red shell I swear- JEONGGUK!”

He threw his head back, cackling with laughter as Taehyung swore furiously at the screen, fingers mashing against the buttons on his switch controller as if it would help his kart recover faster. Jeongguk’s character zoomed past him, effectively stealing first place. There was no time for Taehyung to catch up, landing him in third place when a NPC shot past him as well. 

It turned out that Taehyung lived a floor above Jimin, and had the most gaming systems Jeongguk had ever seen in his life. They spent almost an hour geeking out together over different games and systems until settling on the classic game that ruined more than enough friendships in Jeongguk’s short-lived college days.

“This is blasphemy,” Taehyung groaned as Jeongguk’s Yoshi paraded on the screen, cheerfully celebrating the win of the cup. Jeongguk continued to snicker, leaning comfortably back into the couch. He was always more comfortable gaming on the floor, and Taehyung didn’t say anything about it. They’d brought Bam with them, and he was cuddled up with Yeontan, Taehyung’s pomeranian on the loveseat. Taehyung made him swear to not tell Jimin he allowed Bam on the couch for fear of the man ranting to him about instilling bad habits in his puppy. “I invite you into my home and you repay me like this?”

“I take it you don’t lose often?”

“Jin-hyung is the only competition I have.” He sighed, starting another round. “Jimbles sometimes throws me off guard, but only because he’s the type of person so bad at video games that he’s sometimes surprisingly good.”

“Is there any game he’s good at?” he asked curiously, picking Bowser this time. Taehyung shook his head.

“Video game wise, no. Well,” he tilted his head. “Stardew Valley? And like, Harvest Moon. Pokémon too.”

“The games you can’t lose in.”

“Yes, those.” He laughed, and Jeongguk found himself laughing along easily. Having playfully threatened the man for the past thirty minutes while they played, they’d broken down a few barriers. Taehyung was definitely a little weird, but in a wildly entertaining way. “Just don’t offer to play any card or board games with him. He will make you wish you were never born.”

“That only makes me want to break out some uno cards.”

“It will be your death.”

Jeongguk laughed again, and Taehyung grinned, starting the next game. They played for a while, quipping easily with each other. This time, Jeongguk was the one to groan in defeat as Princess Peach took the win. Taehyung’s smug expression made him huff.  “Let’s play-”

His phone rang from his pocket, and he hurriedly fished it out, blinking at his mother’s contact. Worry coursed through him—did something happen to his boys?—before he forced himself to relax. She probably wanted to give him an update or Heeseung wanted to talk.

“Sorry, I’m going to step out to take this.” He smiled apologetically.  Taehyung pointed down the hall.

“There’s a private balcony at the end of the hall if you’d like to take it outside. My bedroom is the door on the right and the bathroom is on the left otherwise.”

“Thanks.”

He shuffled down the hall, picking up the call with a smile.

“Hey eomma, how was the flight?”

“Marvelous my deer. We’ve actually been in Jeju for a few hours now—we just left the hotel to hit the beaches. I just wanted to check on you as well as give you a chance to talk to the boys.”

“I’m doing alright, mom.” He pulled back the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the balcony. The heat wasn’t suffocating today and there was a nice breeze. Taehyung also had a nice view, which made Jeongguk’s jaw drop a little in awe. He had never seen Seoul like this.

“That’s good to hear. Did you make it to Jimin's safely?”

“Yes, eomma.” He rolled his eyes. “You know I’m not a kid anymore.”

She laughed good naturedly. “One never stops being a mother just because her kid isn’t a baby anymore.”

Jeongguk knew he didn’t understand that just yet. He probably wouldn’t until Heeseung was old enough to leave the house. His heart twinged with the thought. It felt like yesterday that Heeseung was small enough for Jeongguk to hold with one arm. Now, he was five and getting to the age where he didn’t want to be picked up…

“Speaking of kids…” he prompted gently.

“Oh I see how it is. Can’t even spare a few minutes to speak with your mom.” 

“Ah, mom,” he whined. She laughed again before saying that she was handing the phone over. Jeongguk immediately made his voice brighter. “Hey buddy, how’s it going?”

“DAD IT’S SO COOL HERE! IT’S REALLY PRETTY.”

Jeongguk pulled the phone away from his ear, cringing slightly.

“T-that’s nice to hear buddy. So you’re having fun? How was the flight?”

“It was soooo long. But grandpa and grandma told me stories! They said that you looooved playing with dinosaurs when you were as small as me!”

He listened to Heeseung ramble on about the stories his parents told him, a serene smile on his face. He was glad that his parents were taking care of him and Jungwon so well.

It didn’t take long before Heeseung had his attention stolen by their arrival at the beach. He heard him shrieking in the back as his mother took the phone back.

“Don’t worry,” she hummed before Jeongguk could say anything. “I’ll make sure both your babies are wearing sunscreen and that he doesn’t go too far into the tide.”

He relaxed, thankful that they lived in a place where the ocean tide was familiar to Heeseung. Since he learned how to swim, both Heejin and Jeongguk made sure he understood the dangers about going too far out. A reminder and close eye didn’t hurt though.

“Make sure you wear some sunscreen too, eomma,” he reminded gently. Junghee laughed, and he could imagine her clearly with his father not that far out of view, wearing a lovesick smile as he watched his wife. Jeongguk’s heart ached—he remembered watching his parents and wanting something just like that. He thought he had it.

Suddenly frustrated, he dragged a hand down his face. Could he really not go one day without thinking about her?

“You know I will, little deer. But tell me, how is it at Jimin’s? Are you two having fun?”

“Uhm yeah. He’s actually…” he pursed his lips. “He’s actually at work right now. I’m hanging out with one of his friends. Kim Taehyung.”

Junghee gasped, and it startled Jeongguk enough that he almost dropped his phone. 

“Taehyung-shi?” she repeated.

“You know him?” His brow furrowed.

“He was one of the boys that helped us move, but you do know that he’s also a world class actor, right?!”

“Jimin-hyung may have mentioned that,” he said slowly. That was his mother’s fangirl voice. “Does appa know you’re crushing on him?”

“Please.” He knew his mother was waving him off. “Your father was the one who sat me down and made me watch one of his dramas. He’s as head over heels as I am.”

“W-what?” he spluttered, laughing because he didn’t know how to respond to that. “Eomma, come on.”

“Look him up, Jeongguk-ah,” she urged. “You need to understand exactly who you’re spending your time with.”

He shifted, a little uncomfortable with the idea. “Er. Eomma. That’s a little-”

“Look. Him. Up. You won’t regret it. I’m going to go now—Heeseung, come here! Halmoni needs to put on your sunscreen-”

The line went dead, and Jeongguk pulled his phone away from his ear, blinking owlishly. His mother had the strangest ideas sometimes. Yet… he bit the inside of his cheek, pulling up Naver. Now he was curious.

He typed in Taehyung’s name, a little surprised at the amount of search results he got. Multiple articles about his latest drama were first, along with an entire page dedicated to his work. He clicked on it, a little dizzy as he scrolled through the titles. Taehyung starred in a… lot. Films, dramas… he even voice acted-

Jeongguk gasped, eyes nearly bugging out of his head. He rubbed at them, convinced he was reading it wrong, but it looked the same. A quick dedicated search brought the same results, and the knowledge dragged him back inside.

Taehyung was playing a solo round, but paused the game when he heard Jeongguk approach.

“Hey, I saw the time and ordered some take out. I hope that black bean noodles is okay-”

Jeongguk shoved his phone at him, babbling, “Are you seriously the voice actor for Discord from the children’s show Gifted?”

The dark haired man blinked at the screen before blinking at Jeongguk. He tilted his head, grinning lopsidedly.

“Yeah. It’s actually one of my favorite projects to work on. We just finished up the latest season-”

“You do know that Heeseung and Jungwon love that show, right?” he blurted, lowering his phone. “We watch it together every time a new season comes out. He’s obsessed with the characters, especially Discord.”

“Is he now?” Taehyung hummed, amused.

“And you’ve been in a billion things.” His hands fluttered. He was flustered, excited, and also a little embarrassed that he was in the presence of someone famous. A celebrity that chose to hang out with him for the afternoon-

“You’re not going to start acting weird around me, right?”

The tone of Taehyung’s voice made him pause. He still wore a smile, but it was thinner. Cautious and maybe a little… sad?

“What? No,” he managed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m a little surprised that you’re as well known as you are—wait, that’s not an insult, I just-” he flipped his phone nervously in his hands. “You’re still Taehyung? The one that I know. Though, I don’t really know you all that well, just that you make really good waffles, and you’re good with kids. Also that you're intimidating when you’re angry? Not that I was scared of you, just confused-”

Deep, full bellied laughter cut him off. Taehyung wrapped his arms around himself, curling over. Embarrassed, Jeongguk silently vowed to never listen to his mother’s advice again.

“Ah, Jeongguk.” He wiped at his eyes, grinning. It made his eyes crinkle. “You’re really something.”

“I don’t-” he knew his eyes were childishly wide. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“I was only mad at you-” Oh. “-because of what you were doing to Jimin.”

His stomach flipped at the reminder. He almost argued that he hadn't done anything, but that wasn't true. It had all been unconscious, but he hadn't helped with Jimin's developing feelings. Which… thinking about it now, that confused him. Because if Jimin had developed some semblance of romantic attraction for him when Jeongguk didn't do anything, how would that change with him being aware of what was going on? Jeongguk never did anything that crossed the line of friendship.

Except once-

“I couldn't tell if you were doing it on purpose or not,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders. 

“I don't even know what I did,” he mumbled to himself.

“And that's why I'm not mad.” He shrugged, unpausing the game. Jeongguk sat down beside him, thrown off. He should have been used to the feeling with how often it happened now. “Based on how you were acting when I first met you, I thought you were aware of his feelings and were playing with them just because you could. That, and you were jealous of how close we were.”

Jealousy was a pretty big stretch, he was pretty sure of it. That morning had been weird in many different ways. He spent most of it confused and trying to adapt. Given that he'd only spent time with Jimin around his parents, his kids, or alone, it had been a change of pace having a friend thrown into the mix.

“But now that I know you a bit better, clearly you weren't.” His kart passed the finish line, and he flashed a grin at Jeongguk. “So I'm not angry anymore, because I know you'd protect him just as much as I try to.”

He stared at the man for a long minute, wrapping his head around the words. Relief was the most prominent emotion he felt, but it was tinged with something bitter. He couldn't put his finger on it, and didn't want to. Taehyung had given him a strange seal of approval, and coming from Jimin's soulmate, he would take it.

“You're a good guy, Taehyung.”

“Thank you. I try.”

Jeongguk laughed and picked up his abandoned controller. Sinking to the floor, he settled in for another round, finding himself at peace.

Mostly.

---

“What-” Jimin's voice was strangled. “-are you watching?!”

“Oh, hey Jiminie! I didn't hear you come in.” As good of an actor as he was, he didn't bother to hide the smirk in his voice. Jeongguk hardly registered it, too busy staring slack jawed at the screen.

They'd made ample use of their time that afternoon, playing video games like high schoolers on a three day weekend. Taehyung was kind enough to let Jeongguk play the new Zelda game for a few hours, laying on the couch while providing commentary or pointing him in the right direction. They migrated back to Jimin's apartment when it got close to him returning, preemptively ordering more takeout because Jimin never apparently never grabbed food for himself after work. Jeongguk was dragging him grocery shopping tomorrow—his fridge was still bare. 

Taehyung had barely hung up the phone before a sly mischievous smile that said bad news asked, “Have you ever seen any of Jimin's work?”

Jeongguk said nothing about the first video.

After the second, he stole the remote and found a YouTube channel dedicated to posting any and all clips and videos of their beloved Mochi.

Taheyung chuckled and muttered, “once you Jim-in, you can't Jim-out.”

Jeongguk shushed him, because in that particular video, some idol groups vlog, Jimin sang the song while he helped a red haired guy through the dance steps. Chills erupted over his skin because hecouldsing.

Taheyung stole the remote back and typed in a different channel, one that was private until Taehyung signed out of his YouTube account and signed into Jimin's, not pausing at the daunting demand of the password.

Younger Jimin did dance covers. Younger Jimin had black hair. Then blonde. Jeongguk didn't know if he could handle blonde Jimin.

They were on a blonde haired Jimin video, and Jeongguk didn't care that the older, not video brown haired Jimin sported a strawberry red face as he watched Jeongguk watch him absolutely nail a Blackpink song.

“How did you get into my account?!” Jimin demanded. Something thumped to the floor. To Jeongguk’s immediate disgruntlement, he walked right in front of the T.V, manually shutting it off.

“Jiminnie~!” Taehyung whined. “Guk had never seen you at work. I needed to educate him-”

“You can dance,” he mumbled, cutting Taehyung off. His eyes focused on Jimin.

“We established that a long time ago.” His downturned mouth wasn't angry. A little embarrassed and confused, maybe.

“Yeah, but-” he waved a flopping hand at the screen, then at Jimin. “You can dance.”

His frown twitched. “I do it for a living. I kind of need to be good at it-” 

“I want to dance with you,” he blurted. Taehyung sucked in a breath beside him. Jimin didn't react. Jeongguk didn't even have time to question if he said something wrong before Jimin answered,

“Okay.” 

Taehyung made a wounded noise and grabbed him by the shoulder. His eyes were wide with panic.

“Jeongguk, it's a mistake.” He shook him. “Dancing with Jimin means spending four hours in a dance studio with barely any breaks!” Jimin snorted from where he’d moved to pick up the bag he'd dropped on the floor. “You will want to drown yourself in water but you already drank it all dying with thirst and when you want to order dumplings you get a harsh no because we're not finished-”

“To explain,” Jimin drawled, moving across the room. “Taehyung took the part of an idol in a drama and the director wanted him to be able to dance a choreography for the opening sequence. He hired me to train him.”

“And I regretted it!” Taehyung shouted at him as he disappeared in the hall. Jimin’s laughter echoed from his room. He turned back to Jeongguk, frantic. “It's not too late to change your mind.”

Jeongguk oriented himself enough to laugh. Taehyung stared at him like he was insane.

“Don't worry hyung.” He patted his shoulder consolingly. “I'm used to it. I used to dance and got pretty serious about it for a while. I think I spent all day in a studio once.”

“So theres two of you?” Taehyung whispered, horrified.

Jimin’s laughter sounded closer, and Jeongguk looked over to find Jimin stepping out of the hall, tugging down a striped sweater. He ruffled a hand through his sweat dried hair, giving Jeongguk time to move his eyes from where they'd caught on exposed skin.

“How much have you danced, Jeongguk-ah?” he asked, nodding at Taehyung as a sign to fill him in.

“A little. Mostly in high school. We had a dance club. And I took a class in college before I didn't have time for it anymore.” Jimin leaned against the wall, listening with bright eyes even though he already knew. “I miss it sometimes.”

A lot, actually. Seeing Jimin’s old videos sparked a longing in him that he hadn't felt for a while. The last had been when Erica was showing videos of her teenager's ballet performance. Ballet was something he'd never done, but it still reminded him of long practices, burning lungs, and the sweet tang of soreness. He used to be addicted to the trembling in his muscles, the squeak of shoes, and sweat soaked shirts. He got some of that now, running and working out, but it wasn't quite the same.

He’d made a slightly serious joke about dancing again to Heejin once, when they only had Heeseung. Just to test the waters. She'd humored him before hitting him with, “And who'd watch Heeseung while you’re twirling away in a studio?”

He'd almost retorted with, “You, duh”, but he'd stared at the books and papers laid out over the table, having caught her in the middle of studying, and he smiled and hummed, “Good point.”

They never talked about it again.

Jimin's eyes were still bright, but as if he knew Jeongguk’s thoughts, there was a sadness to them that he combated with a teasing smile.

“Well, we'll have plenty of time to figure out how rusty you are.”

“Hey! Maybe I'm not rusty at all! Maybe I'm just as good as you are.”

Jimin laughed. It would have been insulting if they both didn't know that Jeongguk's words were a dreamers.

“Give me a day in the studio and I'll be coming after your job,” he joked. Jimin shook his head, pushing off the wall with a smirk.

“I bet you won't even last two hours.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Taehyung made another noise, hissing, “Don't tempt the demon, Jeongguk. You're digging your grave-”

“What are we betting?” Jimin ignored him, rounding the couch. He dropped onto the edge cushion—he and Taehyung had sat next to each other this time—and peered around Taehyung.

“This is a terrible idea.”

“Tae, you usually live for this kind of stuff.” Jimin knocked against his side, a playful grin on his face. “You're the reason I have a tattoo.”

Jeongguk's brain shut down.

“We all know you wanted one. I just gave you the opportunity to finally take the leap.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You're just mad that I got to choose where to put it.”

Jimin's expression flipped through a few emotions, settling on exasperation after he glanced at Jeongguk. He shook his head.

“Don't look so horrified, Jeongguk. It's over my ribs.”

Rebooting.

“I wanted it to be a tramp stamp but…”Taehyung sighed mournfully. “Yoongi-hyung said it would be a disgrace to his mu-”

“Ah buhbuh-!” Jimin babbled, slapped a hand over his mouth. “Don't ruin the supri- ack! Taehyung!”

Jimin stared at his hand in disgust while Taehyung stuck out his tongue. He grimaced after a moment.

“You taste like salt.”

Error. Reconfiguring.

Jimin glared at him. “I just spent several hours helping piece together a comeback choreography and haven't showered yet. Of course I'm going to taste like salt. Which, you wouldn't taste if you didn't lick me. Ugh.” He wiped his hand on Taehyung's shorts. “Who knows where your tongue has been.”

“Do you really want to know?”

“I know you mean that to be suggestive, but it was the peanut butter jar.”

“...you know me too well.”

Reboot successful.

“If I last two hours without complaining or collapsing you have to get another tattoo.”

The room went silent, two pairs of wide brown eyes staring him down. Jeongguk wanted to shrink from the attention, but outwardly didn't show it.

“Fine,” Jimin agreed, oddly calm despite the threat of gaining a permanent addition to his body. “But if you don't survive then you're the one getting a tattoo.”

He licked his lips, debating. Realistically, he knew this was a terrible idea, but the heady rush of adrenaline from the challenge clouded his reasoning.

“I'll agree only if I get to choose the place and the content.”

“Same courtesy extends to me and we might just have a deal.” The dangerous glint in Jimin’s eyes was similar to when he'd tricked Jeongguk into letting him take Heeseung to Lotte World. It was almost a replica of the morning after their trip. Jeongguk was playing with fire.

He outstretched a hand.

“You have a deal.”

They shook hands, Jimin's smirk making Jeongguk’s chest jump weirdly. Of course his self preservation would kick in afterwards. That's the only thing it could have been.

Jeongguk was playing with fire, and he most definitely would get burned.

Notes:

Edit 3/31/25: I forgot that Jimin and Jeongguk already talked about dancing, so I altered the conversation a little bit. Hopefully it makes more sense.

 

1) I couldn't not write a little piece with Heeseung. I missed him T-T

2) I recently just learned of Yeontan's passing, and I got so so sad.

3) This line: "It ended up being far more broish than their previous hugs" has a funny story. Auto correct wanted to change broish to 'british' and I may have laughed way harder than I needed to at that.

4) Another shameless reference to my other fic, Where to Run. I quite like the easter egg of it being a children's show in this universe. XD

 

OKAY!

So I disappeared for like, two years. Here's why.

1) I served a mission. So I was gone for 18 months doing that. I alerted everyone on my other long-fic 'Where to Run' about my impending hiatus, since I had a chapter written for them that a friend would post after I was gone (hence why stories continued to be posted during my absence). I didn't have a chapter for this story, and simply put the "on hiatus" notice on the summary. I'm sorry that you all didn't get the full story. Thankfully I'm back!

2) I wanted to finish 'Where to Run'. That's the biggest goal I had when I returned, and so I worked really, really hard on it. All my time was dedicated to writing that story, and as of TODAY! It is finished! (Go read it if you want :D )

Now, "Silence Isn't a Home" is my main focus. I've had a lot of time to think about the story, and I have to be honest when I say that what I originally had planned isn't going to happen, so I'm mulling over in my head how to proceed with the story. With that, please have patience as I might not update as frequently as I'd like. I'm right now going to confidently say that I will update every other Sunday from today on. As the story continues and I become more confident with the plot progression, the posting days might change.

But for now, I'll see you every other week! Thank you again for those of you who have waited patiently for my return. I also welcome anyone new to the story!

Love you all <3

Chapter 12

Notes:

Happy Sunday!!!!

He talked with Heeseung and Jungwon through video call while Jimin washed up. Jungwon had few words to say, being a quiet little guy, but Heeseung made up for it. His mom was asleep, her head on his dad's shoulder in the background. He watched Jeongguk's boys with the softest smile Jeongguk had ever seen, his fingers absently playing with Junghee's hair.

It made him far too emotional for different reasons.

“-and there was this huge wave that went whoooosh over the surfer guy! And then- then he got right back up! It was soooooo cool! I wanna learn surfing!”

Jeongguk chuckled, eyes low lidded with sleepiness. He laid on the couch with one hand in Bam’s fur and the other holding his phone up on his chest. Jimin’s couch was far too comfortable for its own good. Freshly showered and wearing his comfiest sleep clothes, he fought to keep his eyes open.

“DAD are you listening!”

“I am buddy, I am.” He wasn't. As horrible as it was, Heeseung's stories went on forever and he was more than a little tired despite not doing anything today. His restless nights were catching up to him.

“Alright Heeseung.” His dad chuckled. “I think your dad's ready to go to sleep.”

Heeseung squinted at the screen over Jungwon’s head, who sat patiently in his lap. The rare sight was definitely going in Jeongguk's sketchbook.

“You tired?”

He smiled, a little guilty. “Yeah. I'm sorry Heeseung, but I'm ready for a nap.”

“You sleep at night. Not take naps.”

He laughed, saying, “That you do, buddy. You're learning so much!” at the same time he heard a door open. He tilted his head up from where it rested on the arm of the couch, finding Jimin as he poked his head out of the hallway. Too late, He realized that the camera showed him.

Heeseung’s gasp was loud, but he beat that with his screamed, “UNCLE JIMINIE!”

And there goes the wind down.

“Hey, Heeseung,” Jimin greeted with a giggle. coming closer. Jeongguk sat up, inviting him to sit beside him with a small smile. He handed the phone to him. For his credit, he did look apologetic, as if understanding that he'd just extended the video call by ten minutes.

Jeongguk forgave him, if only because his freshly blow dried hair was fluffy and cute.

“Uncle uncle uncle uncle!” He bounced with each word, making Jungwon squeal and giggle, little hands grabbing at his older brother's shirt. Jeongguk watched Jimin melt, entire body going soft at the sight. “Guess what?! I went to the beach today and there were these huuuuge waves-!”

As Heeseung retold the story, Jeongguk watched Jimin react to it all. He hummed and hawed, eyes shining as he giggled at different parts. He even asked questions, smiling wider with each answered response. Heeseung asked about his day, and Jimin told the events with just as much enthusiasm and dramatic effect. Jeongguk sank lower on the couch with each passing minute, lulled by the smooth voice, warm body, and sweet smelling soap.

This felt natural.

“Alright kiddo, halomoni is ready for bed,” Jeongho announced. Jeongguk cracked open an eye to peer at the screen. His mom blinked tiredly at him, a lopsided smile on her aged face. His dad grew bigger on the screen as he crouched behind Heeseung, ruffling his hair. Memories of his dad doing the same to him warmed his soul. He did the same to Jungwon, running a finger affectionately over his cheek. Jungwon leaned into the touch, lifting his hands. Picking him up, Jeongho nodded at them through the screen. “Say your goodbyes and goodnights.”

Jeongguk leaned into Jimin as Heeseung ‘awww’d, slouching to put their faces next to each other on the screen. Jimin held the camera steady, even as he turned at the movement. Jeongguk watched him catch himself and turn back forward. He couldn’t read his expression, too tired to process it.

“Goodnight dad,” Heeseung grumbled.

“Come on buddy.” He pouted, plopping his chin on Jimin’s shoulder to deepen the effect. Jimin’s hand rose, and for a moment he wondered if he’d push him away, but instead he just pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to hide his amused smile. Nevermind the fact that Jeongguk could feel him giggling. So what? He could pout as much as he wanted. “Can I get a proper goodnight?”

His son melted to his charms—as he should—and kissed his fingers before touching them to the camera. Jeongguk lifted his fingers to ‘receive’ the kiss, pressing it to his cheek. Heeseung’s disappointment faded into a grin. They’d come up with the camera kisses the first time Heejin had to go on a business trip and Heeseung recognized her absence. Jeongguk never had to do it without his kids beside him before. Being on the receiving end was bittersweet. By the end of their Jeju trip, it would mark the longest he’d been away from them.

“Goodnight, dad, I love you.”

“I love you too, little deer.” He kissed his fingers and put them to the camera, thankful that Jimin was willing to sit through this. Heeseung excitedly pressed the kiss to his cheek, giggling. “Sleep tight, okay?”

“I will!”

Jeongho reached for the phone, but Heeseung gasped and attempted to stop him. “Wait grandpa, I didn't get Uncle Jiminie’s kiss!”

Of course Heeseung would want to include Jimin into the tradition. He saw him as family. He should have known that, and Jimin should have as well, but it still surprised both of them, if Jimin’s wide eyes said anything. Snorting and shaking his head, Jeongguk nudged Jimin with his elbow, unhooking his chin from his shoulder. It allowed him to side-glare at him; no heat behind it. Camera shifting with his movement, Jimin obediently kissed his fingertips and let them hover over the camera. Pulling away, Heeseung had his fingers pressed to his cheek already, grinning like a loon.

Jungwon apparently wanted in on the action, because he pulled slobbered fingers from his mouth and reached for the phone. Jeongguk tensed, his parental reactions knowing what was going to happen but unable to do anything to stop it.

The phone screen went dark and a clatter sounded on the other side, joined by Heeseung’s scolding, “Jungie! You made it fall!”

A body wracked with giggles leaned heavily into him, fluffy strands of hair brushing against his cheek, jaw, and neck. They were no longer pressed shoulder to shoulder, but overlapped.

His father’s phone was righted by the man himself. He chuckled at the excitement, the lines at the corners of his eyes deep with joy. His mixed expression shared his unsaid words of, “I should have known.” He grinned at his dad, the answer of, “Yeah, you probably should have.”

“Goodnight, Heeseung, Jungwon. I love you,” he murmured to his two boys.

“Goodnight dad! Goodnight Uncle Jiminie!”

“Goodnight,” Jimin mumbled, cheeks pink. His unoccupied hand played with the hem of his zip up hoodie.

Jeongho lifted the phone, giving them a slightly awkward angle of his face. He knew how to hold it right, he wasn’t that old, but he liked to annoy Jeongguk in that way.

“Sleep tight you two, yeah?”

“Yes, appa,” they chorused together, as if practiced. Jeongguk stole a glance at the little box that held their picture. Jimin, slumped as he was, leaned back against Jeongguk’s shoulder, head tilted as if intending to fit into the curve of his neck to shoulder. The thought, he hasn’t said anything, but how is this not a boundary? crossed his mind. Was this one of his boundaries? He wasn’t uncomfortable though. It felt normal. He didn’t feel any sort of guilty emotion.

“Wait, honey, let me speak to Jeongguk.”  

The phone transferred with the reveal of a boring ceiling and then his mother’s face came into focus. Through her grogginess, she glared at him, pointing her finger. Jeongguk felt an impending scolding, but for what, he had no idea.

“Jeongguk, my baby. I don’t care what you have to do.” Oh this was serious. “Play dirty if needs be, but if I hear anything about Jimin sleeping on the couch during your stay with him, you bet that I’ll make you sleep outside your last night here.”

Jeongguk shivered, already feeling the press of cold, hard ground against his back. “Yes, eomma.”

Jimin sat up. “Wait, that is so not fair-”

“Life isn’t fair, Jimin-ah,” Junghee deadpanned. “Love you two, don’t stay up too late.”

In proper Junghee fashion, she hung up before they could do or say anything. Jimin pouted at the phone in his hands. He snickered.

“You were going to try and offer me the bed again.” He didn’t even have to phrase it as a question. “But now you can’t.”

“I still could,” he shot back, eyes narrowed. “You know how stubborn I can be.”

“You would make me sleep outside in the dirt?” He gasped, pressing a hand mockingly to his chest. “How couldst thou be so cruel to thine ally?”

“Letting you hang out with Taehyung was a mistake,” he groaned. He set Jeongguk’s phone on the coffee table, squinting at him. His expression faded into something softer. Twisting to face him better, Jimin drew a knee up and peered at him over the top. “How was it actually? Spending the day with him. I know he sprang that on you.”

“Being honest?” Jeongguk grinned. “I really like him. We definitely got off on the wrong foot, but I consider him a friend now. We’re going to start playing Overwatch together when I get back to Florida.”

Jimin rolled his eyes, and to Jeongguk’s surprise, shifted again to lean against his side. “Definitely a mistake. Why do I have a feeling you’re going to steal my best friend from me?”

“Well,” he cautiously put his arm around Jimin’s back to make it more comfortable for him. It felt a bit different now, not having his kids and parents virtually with them. Was it alright for them to be doing this?  “We still have a long way to go. I haven’t known him for as long as you have. Which… how and when did you two even meet?”

“Oh!” Jimin tilted up at him and with how close they were, it was a little hard for him to look at him. “We actually alluded to our meeting today. I met him through the training I gave him for the drama. As tortuous as he made it seem, we hit it off really well. That was three or four years ago and we’ve been bothering each other ever since.”

“With how comfortable you two are with each other I thought I’d be getting the childhood best friends story.”

Jimin giggled, swaying to the side away from him. Jeongguk’s fingers twitched with the need to steady him, but he kept still. “Nah, TaeTae grew up in Daegu. I don’t know what it is with him, but he is comfort to me. I act pretty similar with the rest of our friends though. You’ll get to see that tomorrow.”

Right. He’d be meeting everyone tomorrow. “I thought it was rare for you all to get together.”

“Yeah, it is. This is a strange month for us. They’re really excited to meet you.”

Jeongguk didn’t know why, but the way he said it made his stomach twist. Jimin acted like he was someone special. What had he said about him to his friends? Were they expecting someone amazing? Jeongguk didn’t have low self esteem, but he wasn’t as cool as he made himself out to be. Surely Jimin saw through his facade now that they’ve spent time together without his kids. They were the coolest part about him.

Ugh. Heejin was right. He only knew how to be a dad and a doting husband.

A hand waving in front of his face made him blink. Jimin came into focus, the older man squinting at him with a little laugh.

“You disappeared on me.” He poked at his shoulder. “Where did you go?”

“I… I guess I’m a little nervous.”

The admission made him deflate, the burden of not saying it fluttering away. It was urged along by Jimin’s gentle expression as he took it in. He didn’t rush to reassure him. Instead, he watched Jeongguk, as if waiting to make sure that he was finished expressing himself. To Jeongguk’s surprise, he wasn’t.

“I haven’t hung out with a group of people that weren’t at home moms in… I don’t even know how long.” Dragging a hand through his hair with a cheek puffing sigh, he slumped in on himself. “Probably before Jungwon was born. And I don’t have my kids right now to have an excuse to slip away from conversations when I get overwhelmed. I’m honestly a bit of a social wreck, Jimin.”

He titled his head. “You seem fine with me.”

“Yeah, well,” he huffed. “That’s because you’re you.”

Mildly surprised, Jimin blinked in quick succession, his dark lashes fluttering. He chuckled with a nervous edge, fingers playing with the edge of his hoodie again.

“I’m not sure what you mean by that?”

“You’re easy to talk to,” Jeongguk muttered, petulant. “I swear I’ve spilled half my life's secrets to you without even thinking about it.” That drew a laugh out of him, bewildered yet pleased. “I don’t even know what it is! You’re just so open and it makes me want to do the same. Sometimes I feel like an inside out sock.”

Jimin’s laughs turned into giggles, a hand rising to cover his mouth, hiding the sound. He found himself giggling along, the two of them leaning into each other's space as they laughed. Once it was out of their system, Jimin smiled up at him with laugh flushed cheeks. He put a hand on his knee.

“You don’t have anything to be nervous about, I promise,” he assured, squeezing gently. “I can’t say I understand what you mean about being a social wreck, but getting overwhelmed? I can get a little bit of that. I’ll be there and so will Tae. If you need to slip away you can grab one of us. And if you want to be alone, Jin-hyung has a balcony that remains unused when we’re all together. If you don’t want to go at all-”

“I want to go,” he interrupted before Jimin could even finish his thought. He did. He really did. An itch lay under his skin. A desire to meet the people close to him. The ones that made him smile and take a bus and a train into Seoul to be with them even if for a short amount of time. “I just don’t want to embarrass you by being weird.”

“You’d never.”

He said it so earnestly that Jeongguk didn’t even think to argue. The dark haired man blinked when Jimin lifted his hand to his hair, ruffling it playfully as he stood. “I’ll get you some blankets and a pillow for the couch. Though, it’s a shame. I washed my sheets again just for you.”

“Too bad Heeseung isn’t here. Then we could share again.”

“No sleepovers this time.”

He kept the words light and teasing. Jeongguk would have been fooled if he hadn’t been watching him. He caught the pause, the falter in his step and the stiffening of his shoulders.

“No,” he agreed, heart sinking. He stepped on another boundary line. “Not this time.”

---

Jeongguk never quite understood how he turned out to be as competitive as he was, since his parents were laid back people. Well, aside from Junghee, who fought tooth and nail against other girls to gain Jeongho’s attention—alright never mind, he knew where his competitiveness came from. Point was, he used it throughout school, sports, and outings with his friends. If there was a video game competition going on, he was in it, smirking as he took down his challengers. Sometimes he let it get to his head, in which someone would always deliver a well needed humility strike. But his competitiveness taught him to be hardworking and diligent.

All three of those traits thrived in dance. He had to work hard to get good. He couldn’t miss a day if he wanted to keep his skill. If he wanted a solo, he worked for it. Fought for the center against his fellow dancers. If he didn’t get it, he worked harder. Asked where he was at fault. Fixed it. Improved and continued to grow. When Jeongguk quit dancing, he turned those traits to something else, but nothing aside from singing quite scratched that itch.

Walking into the studio that Jimin had rented for the afternoon, the itch returned with a vengeance after being buried for so long. Jeongguk wasn’t twenty-six. He was eighteen, muscles and lungs burning as his shoes squeaked against the floor, an additional beat to the curated one playing over the speakers.

He wasn’t excited just because of the competition of their bet. He missed dancing, and he’d be doing it on a serious level for the first time in years.

Jimin’s voice, instructing him to stretch as he lined up towels and water, barely reached him. He stared at the long stretch of mirrors across one wall, the smooth reflection broken by the dance bars. Breathing in, he relished in the smell of Rosco. There were a few smells that soothed him. The salt of the ocean, pears, fabric softener, and Rosco. He took off his jacket, settling it in the corner before dropping down and throwing himself into stretches, doing it properly for the first time in years.

Giddy impatience pressed upon him once his limbs were loose and ready. Jimin noticed, a little smile pressing at the corner of his mouth as he hooked his phone to the speaker. He’d put together a playlist in the car while Jimin drove, filling it with boy and girl group songs that he’d practiced the choreography to in the past. Jimin promised he could at least dance the chorus to just about anything; being well versed on them was part of his job.

“Are you ready?” he questioned, finger hovering over the play button.

“Born ready.”

As Seventeen’s Left & Right began to play, Jeongguk knew he hadn’t lied. It came back to him as easy as breathing. He tunneled in on the song, feeling his body move along as if he’d danced to it yesterday.

He felt alive.

Immediately obsessed with the feeling of flying that dancing gave him, he didn’t register anything else until two songs later. When Left & Right had faded into Call me Baby, and then Ringa Linga. Halfway through the Taeyang song, his world opened up to more than the weightlessness in his chest and strain of his arms and legs. A safe distance away, face drawn in concentration, Jimin danced along, hitting every note and beat perfectly as if he’d practiced it for days on end. Seeing him dance in person was far different than him dancing on a screen. He could hear the tap of his shoes, the controlled breaths, the slight shine of sweat when the lights hit just right.

Ringa Linga trickled away, and Jimin looked over at him, grinning. Jeongguk unconsciously grinned back, pulling his sweaty hair away from his face with a rake of fingers. As the next song started, Jimin skipped over to pause it, turning back with his face aglow

“I know you said you could dance, but I didn't expect you to know how to dance!” His body practically vibrated with energy. Jeongguk didn’t know where he hid it, because thirty seconds ago he’d been awash with focused determination. He echoed his words from yesterday, making him laugh.

“Yeah, yeah I can. I’m definitely not at your level, because holy hyung, you’re crazy at this.”

“You’re not as rusty as you say you are though. You’re not dying on the floor wheezing.”

“Ah,” he chuckled, shifting his feet. He was anxious to continue, but it was good to take a little break. He hadn’t realized that Jimin was bursting with questions, having been out of it as soon as they stepped into the room. “You know that I’m still in shape. I’ve danced for so long that my body still remembers even if it’s been a few years since I took it seriously.”

Jimin nodded, retrieving a water bottle and a towel from the side of the room. He pressed it into Jeongguk’s hands.

“I know you said it as a joke,” he teased. “But you could actually come after my job if you started taking it seriously again. You’ve got a lot of skill.”

Jeongguk bit back his shy smile, wanting to wiggle a little in joy at the complement. Something told him that when it came to dancing, Jimin didn’t give out praise like candy on Halloween. He gave it when earned, and Jeongguk earned it.

“But…” Jimin’s smile turned into a smirk, eyes glinting. “I don’t think you’ll last for two hours.”

The competitiveness dormant in his soul came alive with a rush of heat, making him straighten and tilt his chin up challengingly with a disarming grin.

“Hmm, we’ll have to see about that, Jimin. I have a feeling I won’t be the one leaving this studio with a tattoo appointment.”

Jimin shook his head of brown hair, still smirking.

“Smack talk when you can, Jeongguk. Because I’m about to wipe the floor with you. Also?” He looked over his shoulder at him, and Jeongguk’s body tensed with the acute feeling of danger. Jimin’s smirk deepened, causing something to lodge  in Jeongguk’s throat.

“Don’t forget. It’s Jimin hyung.”

Playing with fire.

---

Jeongguk’s playlist hated him.

As if Jimin could manipulate technology to his side, all of the difficult songs to dance to streamed in, one after another. Five in a row. As the final notes of Boombaya finished, Jeongguk found himself leaning over, trying to rub a stitch out of his side as he gasped. Jimin, annoyingly standing straight up with only a harsh rise and fall of his chest.

“Giving up?”

“You wish,” he wheezed. His legs trembled like Heeseung’s did when he learned how to walk. Truthfully, he was this close to sinking to the floor, but he couldn’t lose.

He fought a groan as Love Shot began. He pulled himself into position, hazily noting that Jimin didn't move, a small frown on his face.

“Are you giving up?”

“No,” he murmured. “But we should take a break.”

“I think that counts as giving up-”

“Jeongguk, I’m not stupid,” Jimin cut in, surprisingly stern. He marched over, turning down the music. “I can see you shaking. If we keep going you might get hurt. That, or you’re going to be unable to move tomorrow, and I’m not carrying you around.”

“You couldn’t.”

“And we’re not going to test that theory. Sit down.”

Grumbling, he allowed himself to sink to the floor. Once his body weight was off his legs, he groaned in relief, flopping back into a starfish position.

“This does not count!” He pointed a finger at Jimin standing over him. He’d retrieved another water bottle and Jeongguk reached up to accept it with weak arms. Jimin sat beside him, eyebrows raised.

“Did you really think I’d force you to get a tattoo if you didn’t last for two hours?”

He frowned. “That was the bet, wasn’t it?”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Jeongguk, I’d never force you to do that. I’d never force you to do anything. It was for the principle. Were you going to make me follow through with it?”

“No!” he immediately answered, sitting up. “Of course not. It’s a permanent addition to your body—that decision should ultimately be yours.”

Jimin regarded him for a long moment, weight on his hands as he leaned back. He felt scrutinized, inspected by brown eyes that had already become familiar to him.

“Jeongguk?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to get a tattoo?”

He floundered. The fact that he floundered made him flounder more. He didn’t have anything against tattoos. He’d drawn a replica of Isaiah’s entire sleeve for one of his college assignments, spending more than one hour looking at the black swirls creating a garden across his skin. Growing up in Korea had made him aware of the stigma, but it never attached to him, and if it had, living in the states where he lived an hour from the beach chased that away. He’d seen many, many tattoos in his adult years.

And maybe… maybe he’d admired them. But he’d never…

Every impulse you get, follow through with it.

“Yeah.” The word fell easily. “I do.”

Jimin’s smile was creeping. “I can get you an appointment with my tattooist for Thursday. I actually already had an appointment for that day that I forgot about. It gives you today and tomorrow to think it over. Make sure if you actually want to-”

“You’re getting another tattoo?” Jeongguk interrupted, heart jumping widely in his chest. The mere thought of actually getting something needled into his skin… he was shocked with how much excitement he felt. He’d never thought about it before, but as soon as he said it, he was hit with the rush of yes I want this. 

“I have two already,” Jimin revealed, laughing. “The first was courtesy of Taehyung but-” he shrugged. “He was right when he said I’ve always wanted one. It’s easy for one to quickly become two, and then three, after Thursday. That’s my only warning.” He waved a finger at him, frowning. “It’s addicting, so be careful.”

“Where’s the second?”

Jimin chuckled, but turned his head. He fingered through his hair, pulling it away from his left ear. Jeongguk gasped at the sight of the ink scrawling youth in loopy letters.

“How did I miss that?” he whispered, unable to unsee it. With his brown hair, it was actually quite noticeable. And with how often Jimin messed with his hair, Jeongguk should have seen it.

“A lot of people miss it; you’re not the first. As Jin-hyung would say, they get too distracted by my face.” He framed his chin with his hands, winking. Jeongguk wanted to scowl or laugh, but instead he blurted,

“Can I see the other one?”

Jimin’s eyebrows shot up. Jeongguk remembered too late that he knew where the other one was. Jimin would have to lift or remove his shirt-

“Sure.”

His brain stalled.

“Just don’t touch,” Jimin said slyly. “Reserved privileges.”

What was Jeongguk supposed to do with that information? He wasn’t sure he could handle all this teasing that Jimin was putting him through, though he’d never had an issue with this kind of talk before. He didn’t know how any of it wasn’t crossing a boundary, but he was terrified to ask, not wanting to dour the mood like he’d unintentionally done yesterday.

He couldn’t ask now, not when Jimin was lifting his shirt, revealing a startling amount of smooth, bare skin. Definitely a dancer's body.

“It’s bigger than you thought, isn’t it?”

Oh. Tattoo. Right.

His eyes jumped up to the dark scratches against his skin, bled high in the man’s torso. It took him a moment to register the word. Once he did, the reference slammed into him, making him gape.

“Never mind it’s not easy but engrave it onto your chest,” he muttered under his breath, eyes wide. Jimin blinked at him, his shirt dropping and covering himself back up.

“Huh. You really are an AgustD fan.”

“Seems you are too.” That made Jimin laugh, eyes disappearing. Then, as though struck by lighting, what Taehyung said yesterday slammed into him. “I can’t believe Taehyung tried to turn that into a tramp stamp!”

Jimin’s laughter poured out harder, the smaller man curling over his lap with giggles.

“That would be such a disgrace to AgustD-hyung’s music! Does he know how deep that song is?”

“Ah, Jeongguk-ah, trust me. He knows.” Jimin wiped at his eyes, grinning like a fool. He hopped to his feet, outstretching a hand to him. “Let’s keep dancing. Breaks over.”

While Jimin gasped at the next song that conveniently began playing, Perfect Man, Jeongguk stared after him, something nagging in the back of his head. He was missing something. A connection sparked, but didn’t ignite.

“Jeongguk, you do know this one, right?”

Shaking away the thoughts, he slid into step next to Jimin, exaggeratedly pronouncing the moves and making him laugh. Jeongguk grinned, letting his body take over and his mind shut off.

It probably wasn’t important.

Notes:

I can't get away from the song. 'Never Mind' will always haunt me and force me to write it within every fan fiction. How could I not????

I'm a little less than impressed with this chapter, but it's what ended up being written after some struggle. I'm hoping to improve as I get back into the swing of it with the characters and story.

Chapter 13

Notes:

Alright, alright. Not my best chapter. I'm not very good at introducing multiple characters at once, and given my own lack of social integration, I struggled to imagine how it would be for Jeongguk. Hopefully ya'll still enjoy it!

But uh, kind of downer end notes. They're important to me, so I hope it doesn't make ya'll upset. I'm saying this here to leave space for what I want to say there. Most of you have been really good and really supportive, so don't pick it apart too much, yeah? I'm just saying it for the future and for others who might join.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter. I love you all and I'll see you in two weeks!

Jeongguk wiped his sweaty hands on the pair of slacks he’d worn to the Park dinner. It felt like a bad omen, wearing them, but he wanted to look nice in front of Jimin’s friends and he didn’t have much else. Jimin wore dark jeans and another sweater, both looking nice enough to help Jeongguk feel at ease. He wanted to dress fancier to impress them despite Jimin’s reassurance that they didn’t need impressing. As Jimin babbled to him mere minutes ago, they were a bunch of dorks and would probably be an embarrassment to him. Yet, the fondness in his voice when he spoke of them said otherwise.

“Are you sure you aren’t going to give me a crash course on them?” he asked again as they exited the elevator. The apartment complex wasn’t as fancy as Jimin’s, but it hinted at wealth in a stealthier way. Jeongguk worried that all of Jimin’s friends were outside of his financial bracket. Which, that didn’t bother him, but it could bother them. He couldn’t imagine Jimin hanging out with snobby rich people though, a minor comfort.

“Jeongguk-ah.” Jimin laughed around his name, skipping forward only to walk backwards, grinning at him. Even though his steps were confident, he prepared himself to perform a life saving catch. “The only things I could tell you about my friends would be blackmail, and I don’t think they’d appreciate their first impressions being what stupid things I’ve seen them do.”

“Hyung,” he whined. “Come on. Jobs? Interests? You haven’t even given me any names! I’m walking in blind.”

Jimin remained tight-lipped with a secretive smile, humming joyfully under his breath as he flipped back around to walk normally. Jeongguk lengthened his stride to keep up with him, muscles protesting. Their dancing from that afternoon took a lot out of him. They’d kept at it for four hours (taking proper breaks this time) and when they trudged back to Jimin’s apartment Jeongguk had accidentally fallen asleep on the couch for three hours before a call from his kids woke him up. He would really begin to feel it tomorrow, but he had to get through tonight first.

“Everyone usually shows up ten to fifteen minutes late, so I made sure we got here early,” Jimin explained as they neared the end of the hall. “I didn’t want you to get overwhelmed by all five of them, so you’ll meet Jin-hyung and Joonie-hyung first.”

He wiped his hands again, taking a deep breath in an attempt to keep himself calm. This wasn’t like walking into a random college party where he knew no one. Jimin and Taehyung would both be there, though Taehyung would be an hour late due to a job. The older man promised that he wouldn’t ditch him unless Jeongguk needed the space. He imagined this was how Heeseung felt the first time he’d gotten invited to Tucker’s house. Jeongguk had to hold his hand as they walked to the door and he made long drawn out small talk with Tucker’s parents until Heeseung was comfortable enough for Jeongguk to leave.

As Jimin stopped in front of apartment 12C, Jeongguk fought the impulse to take his hand as Heeseung did all those months ago.

“Ready?” the brunette asked, tilting his head up at him. He took another deep breath, demanding calm into his soul. It didn’t come, but he nodded anyway.

Jimin knocked on the door. As his hand fell, it brushed against Jeongguk’s. The single touch of skin broke Jeongguk’s impulse control, and he grabbed at his fingers in a bloodless grip. He received a squeeze back immediately, and the breath he’d unconsciously held whooshed out in time with the door opening.

He meant to breathe in again, but the air got stuck the second his eyes registered the man standing in front of them.

Jimin gasped, a quiet sound of surprise, before a blinding grin blossomed over his mouth.

“Yoongi-hyung!”

The dark haired man smiled in response, a quiet unassuming quirk of his mouth. Pale fingers let go of the door to reach forward, easily meeting Jimin’s rush to an embrace. Jeongguk’s hand fell uselessly to his side, joined by his jaw. His brain emptied of any and all thoughts.

“Hey there, Jimin-ah.”

Hisvoiceohmygosh.

Embarrassingly enough, Jeongguk’s knees trembled at the sound of him speaking. He’d heard that same voice rasp, growl, and spit in his earbuds, or from his speakers when he worked out alone. Agust D’s music wasn’t exactly kid friendly. That voice had been one he listened to while doing laundry in front of the T.V, his phone casting his lives and broadcasts from stations. Once, Jeongguk caught an interview in the car, turning the dial up so he could hear the man’s low toned speech as he spoke of the inspiration for his latest album.

It was far different hearing it in person, watching his lips form vowels and constants in real time.

It hit Jeongguk like a freight train now, all the hints Jimin and Taehyung unconsciously dropped. From the very first invitation following Jeongguk’s joking comment to the tattoo story to Jimin’s fight against Taehyung to not ruin the surprise.

Park Jimin was friends with Min Yoongi.

Agust D.

“Hyung, this is Jeon Jeongguk,” Jimin said, still in a half hug with the slightly taller man. Dark eyes zeroed in on him, a head of wavy black hair tilting slightly. His cotton tongue refused to unswell, leaving him gaping at his idol. Because that’s who stood in front of him.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jeongguk-ssi.” Yoongi nodded at him, extending a hand with a bright gummy smile. With Jimin standing at his shoulder, eyes  scrunched into familiar crescent moons, Jeongguk felt like he’d been K.O'd. Twice. “Jimin’s told us a lot about you.”

He still couldn’t find his voice. Worst of all, he felt like he danced five songs straight again, lightheaded and fighting to keep his feet underneath him. Min Yoongi’s hand was still outstretched, waiting for him to take it and properly introduce himself. Yet he couldn’t get himself to shake it.

“Jeongguk…?” Jimin stepped towards him. It startled him out of the haze. Heat flared in his cheeks, mind blanking again as he dropped into an overly formal bow.

“I-It’s nice to meet you as well, Agu- I mean- Min Yoongi-ssi.”

He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to sting. So much for not making a fool out of himself.

Jimin’s giggles filled the hallway, joined by a quiet, “ah” from Yoongi. Jeongguk peeked up at them through his fringe, finding Jimin leaning heavily on Yoongi, gasping against his shoulder as he fought his laughter. The artist had a hand on the back of his neck, rubbing self consciously. Curiously enough, his pale skin was flushed. Catching Jeongguk’s eye, he smiled again, though it was far more shy.

“You’re a fan,” he guessed. Jeongguk couldn’t do anything but nod miserably. Yoongi shrugged, ruffling through his hair. “That’s okay. We can get past the awkwardness of that-”

“Yoongi-hyung, did you get the- oh!”

Jeongguk’s brain dissolved into incomprehensible internal screaming.

None other than Kim Namjoon stepped up to the door behind the two men blocking it, his height allowing easy vision. Last time Jeongguk had seen a picture of the rapper he’d been blonde, but he sported purple hair now. It fit him in a way it shouldn’t, highlighting the dimples in his cheeks as he smiled.

A weird noise pierced through the air. It took Jeongguk a second to realize it was coming from him. He slapped a hand over his mouth, but it didn’t stop the high pitched exclamation of,

“You’re RM!”

Kim Namjoon—RM—lit up like a child on Christmas morning.

“I am! Jeongguk, right?” He turned to Jimin, still beaming. “You didn’t tell me that Jeongguk listened to my music!”

“Well, I didn’t know until later, and by then I wanted to keep it a surprise…” Jimin explained, biting his lip afterwards. He nodded at Jeongguk. “No organ sales necessary, Jeongguk-ah. Just have to run into the right people at the right- Jeongguk?!”

Later, to combat the pure mortification, he reasoned with himself that it was perfectly acceptable to crouch in the middle of an apartment complex hallway to bury his face in his knees to muffle his scream of pure joy and excitement. So what if he’d be kept up in the middle of the night regretting his fanboy actions? He was in the presence of two music geniuses. He wasn’t worthy to stand in front of them, let alone receive a smile. He was twenty-six and shouldn’t be acting like this? Nonsense. He never ever thought that he would go to one of their concerts, let alone meet them in person on a private occasion.

“Jeongguk, are you okay?” A hand fell on his shoulder, small fingers squeezing slightly.

He lifted his head, eyes blown wide as he grabbed at Jimin’s shirt, clutching tight.

“Hyung,” he stressed, ignoring the bewilderment and concern. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“Wha- Jeongguk- what are you-”

“What is my life?” he questioned, more to himself than anyone else. “I meet a literal angel on an airplane after having the worst week of my life-”

Red flooded Jimin’s cheeks as his lips parted. Maybe to say something. Or simply in shock. But Jeongguk talked over him, barely seeing it. He missed a third person joining the two rappers at the door, the stranger leaning up against it with an amused smile and raised eyebrow.

“-and then in a crazy connection scheme I get to meet the two artists I’ve looked up to for years-” he stalled for words, the reality of the situation hitting hot and heavy. “And I’m sitting on the floor rambling like an idiot. This is so humiliating-”

“Actually-” 

Jeongguk lifted his eyes, squeaking. Standing next to Kim Namjoon wasn’t someone he recognized, but wow. If he thought Taehyung was handsome, he was wrong. This man was easily the most beautiful person he’d laid eyes on, and that was saying something because again, he knew Taehyung, and Jimin was right up there too.

“This is quite entertaining,” he finished with a smirk. He pushed off the wall, elbowing past Namjoon to crouch next to Jimin in front of him. He wiggled his eyebrows at him, radiating playfulness. Jeongguk felt something tug in his soul, bringing a shard of himself he thought he’d left behind in college. Was he a kindred spirit? “Jeongguk-ssi… can I call you Jeongguk-ah? Jeonggukie? Gukkie. Guk. Oohh I like this. I have a lot to work with.”

“H-hyung!” Jimin spluttered. “You’ve known him for like, two seconds-”

“And you’ve rambled on about him in our group chat for a week.” He rolled his eyes, ignoring Jimin’s betrayed yell. “I feel like I’ve known him forever at this point.”

“Uhm-” He didn’t know whether to interject or not. He didn’t get the chance to before another voice echoed in the hall.

“What are you all doing in the hall?”

A man with a long face, red hair, and a heart shaped mouth frowned down at them. Jimin let out a sigh.

“So much for not overwhelming him.”

---

It was the best day of Jeongguk’s entire life.

“Hyung, he’s a guest, you shouldn’t let him-”

“He literally offered!” The man Jeongguk came to know as Seokjin—aka Jin-hyung—screeched at an unnecessary loud volume. He shot Jimin a dirty look. “And it’s not like you’re volunteering.”

As Jimin spluttered,  Jeongguk laughed, finishing rolling up the sleeves of his button down. Seokjin’s kitchen was surprisingly large for the size of the apartment and well equipped. Jeongguk excitedly gathered that he liked to cook, another thing they had in common. He learned quite quickly that Seokjin also loved video games, if the shelf of mario plushies in the living room said anything.

After getting over his shock of meeting not just one, or two, but four famous individuals, he got ushered into the apartment. Kim Seokjin, who he learned was a model, asked him if he would help him put the finishing touches on their dinner. It was the three of them in the kitchen, the others laughing in the living room over something Jung Hoseok had said. Jimin told him that he was a professional dancer like Jimin, though he was planning on releasing a mixtape soon.

“It’s alright Jimin-hyung.” He washed his hands before picking up the knife and vegetables Seokjin had laid out for him. “I like cooking.”

The brown haired man deflated, pouting. He leaned over the breakfast bar, chin in his palms.

“See that Jimin-ah?” Seokjin taunted, flipping some meats on the stove converted to grill. “He likes to cook.”

As Jimin glared, Jeongguk fell into another fit of laughter. He couldn’t believe he’d been so nervous. Now, not even ten minutes around Jimin’s friends he knew there wasn’t anything to worry about. He sort of knew two of them already, though he knew their professional personas would be far different from their day-to-day. But part of the reason he liked the two rappers was their attempts at being genuine with their fans—not that Jeongguk would know if they were really being genuine.

“Hey.” Namjoon appeared at the breakfast bar, eyes bright. “Is everything good in-”

Seokjin whirled around, brandishing his spoon.

“Kim Namjoon, what did I say about coming in the kitchen?” he hissed. Namjoon didn’t look threatened at all, though he scratched at his nose sheepishly.

“Not to?”

“Namjoon-hyung is nicknamed the God of Destruction,” Jimin stage whispered to him. “He breaks a lot of things by accident, but in the kitchen he’s especially volatile. So he’s been banned from any and all cooking.”

“What? How does he eat-?”

“I cook for him,” Seokjin interjected, stepping past to poked the end of his stirring spoon into the man’s muscled shoulder. Jeongguk wanted to know what his workout routine was because he had an amazing upper body. But also his thighs-

“Okay, okay.” Namjoon laughed, grabbing Seokjin’s wrist. They stood close to each other, chests nearly touching. Jeongguk wanted to sigh at the blinding smile he provided. “I’m sorry, I’m leaving.”

In the process of looking back down to continue cutting the vegetables, his head snapped right back up as his jaw dropped. Pain sliced through his finger and he jerked away, dropping the knife with a cry. Three pairs of eyes fell on him.

“Did you cut yourself?” Jimin asked hurriedly, speedily rounding the counter to grab the hand he cradled to his chest. Jeongguk uncurled his hand, inspecting the cut himself. It wasn’t deep at all, having grazed his pointer finger, but blood welled up fast. He shoved it under the breakfast bar sink, letting the water wash the metallic red away.

“Are you okay?” Seokjin asked, brows furrowed. Jeongguk chuckled awkwardly, eyes darting while his stomach twisted. Why could he never have a normal reaction to things like this? Seeing two men kiss shouldn’t have startled him. Living in the states made it a common sight. Was it because he didn’t expect to see it in Korea?

“Fine, I’m fine. I was just…” he waved his unoccupied hand at them. “I didn’t know you two were… yeah.”

He got two different reactions. Namjoon’s eyes narrowed, all brightness gone. Seokjin on the other hand tilted his head in amusement.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Seokjin asked tonelessly. Jeongguk shook his head frantically.

“No. I mean, I know about Jimin-hyung so-” he froze, eyes darting to Jimin in panic. Did he just-?

But Jimin only laughed, leaning into his side.

“They know, Jeongguk,” he teased, squeezing his arm. “They helped me figure myself out.”

“I think Yoongi helped with that more than us.” Namjoon was smiling again, though a bit more reserved than before. Jeongguk wanted to hit himself, the nerves coming back with a vengeance. Of course he’d mess up and make things awkward.

“What did I help with?” The said rapper made an appearance with furrowed brows. “I heard a scream, is everything okay?”

“Jeongguk cut himself,” Jimin explained, pulling his hand out of the water. Jeongguk stammered in complaint, not wanting Jimin’s hands to get unnecessarily wet, but he didn’t seem to notice, splaying Jeongguk’s fingers with his own. “I think he’ll need a band aid.”

“Hobah!” Seokjin yelled. “Can you get the first aid kit out of the bathroom?!”

“What did Joon do this time?”

“Hey!”

“Let me see?” Yoongi outstretched a hand, a tissue magically having appeared in his hand. Flustered under all the attention, Jeongguk ducked his head as he let the shorter man take his hand. His fingers were longer than Jeongguk’s, a pianists’ hands. “Here, put pressure on it.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled.  It occurred to him that they were mother henning him; Jimin fluttering over him and Yoongi performing minimal first aid even though Jeongguk was more than capable of it himself. Amidst it all, he dealt with the guilt of having a poor reaction to the other men’s unintended coming out to him. Jeongguk didn’t know what was going on with him—he’d had the best reaction when Isaiah came out to him as bi.

“I think I crushed his dreams,” Seokjin drawled.

“What? How?” Hoseok questioned as he came into the room, carrying the first aid kit. “What happened?”

Seokjin shrugged nonchalantly, shifting back over to the meat. He clicked his tongue at the burnt ones.

“He didn’t know Joon and I were married-” Jeongguk choked. “-so I think I crushed his dreams of Joonie possibly being single.”

“Seokjin,” Namjoon murmured, cheeks flushing. Jeongguk felt just as flustered, but for a myriad of reasons.

“You’re married? I thought it wasn’t legal in-”

“It’s not,” Hoseok chirped, setting the first aid kit on the counter. Yoongi popped it open, gesturing for Jeongguk to sit on the stool. He sat with a plop, head spinning. “California, right hyungs?”

“You act like you weren’t there,” Seokjin snorted.

“I’ve suppressed any and all memories related to your wedding after I walked in on you two-”

Namjoon clamped a hand over Hoseok’s mouth, laughing in an odd high pitch. Glancing between the couple—husbands?—he could only imagine what transpired judging by their matching firetruck red skin. Actually, he didn’t want to imagine at all.

“It was a cute wedding.” Jimin smiled sweetly, sitting next to Jeongguk. “I think the reception here was my favorite though.”

“Hmm.” Yoongi grinned at him, the smile bleeding fondness. “It was a good reception, wasn’t it.”

Jimin rolled his eyes, but he held the same fond look as he nudged Yoongi’s leg with his foot. He chuckled, patting him on the knee. Jeongguk blinked at the two of them, lips pressing together as a foreign emotion bubbled up in his chest.

“Should we all do a formal coming out introduction?” Hoseok asked after he freed himself. “That way there aren’t any more surprises.”

“Oh yes, and then we can fall into the stereotype that if one person in the friend group is queer they all are.”

“I mean, it’s basically true.” Hoseok shrugged. “I’m the only straight one here.”

Jeongguk was a overwhelmed by the quick back and forth between the friends, feeling entirely out of place. It took him a second to register Hoseok’s words, blinking rapidly.

“I am too?”

Every head turned toward him. Jeongguk shrank under the attention, offset by the bewildered and disbelieving looks. Too many seconds passed for the pause to be comfortable.

“Wait, you're straight?!” Hoseok screeched, making him startle from the volume of it. Jeongguk gaped at him, absolutely shocked.

“I- yes?” Jeongguk stuttered out. He glanced around the kitchen, flabbergasted by the matching surprise. Jimin was the only one he couldn’t read, but he knew that Jimin knew. Didn’t he?  “Uh. You all know that I’m married to a woman…”

“Well yeah,” Hoseok spluttered, waving his hands. He approached, and Jeongguk found himself tensing nervously. “But I could have sworn you were at least bisexual or maybe pan-”

“Not everyone you meet is gay, Seok,” Yoongi rumbled, sounding far too amused for his own good. He grabbed Jeongguk’s hand, wrapping a bandage around the cut in three simple movements. “Just because the rest of your friends are doesn’t mean everyone you meet is.”

“Except for the fact that all the people I seem to meet these days play for both or the other team or are in the stands at least!”

“Your analogy doesn’t make sense.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk interrupted, biting the inside of his cheek. “What is going on?”

“Jeonggukie,” Hoseok crooned, crossing the distance between them. Jeongguk jolted as he draped over his front, clinging onto him in an almost dragging hug. Considering he’d met him only ten minutes ago, he felt a little out of depth with the sudden physical intimacy. Though, Hoseok was warm and fit surprisingly well against him. And well. Jeongguk had to admit he craved things like this. “I’m just so glad.”

“Why?” he stressed. So, so confused.

“I’ve been alone for so long,” he wept, pulling away. To Jeongguk’s discomfort, there were actual tears in his eyes. “You have no idea how hard it is being the only straight guy in this friend group-”

“Tae is straight,” Jimin pointed out.

“Taehyung is barely interested in anyone,” Hoseok countered easily. “He doesn’t count.”

“I’d take offense to that, but it’s true.”

The six of them jumped at the baritone voice interjecting, finding Taehyung standing at the mouth of the kitchen. He grinned at them all.

“My job ended early,” he explained. “No one heard me knock.”

To Jeongguk’s whirling mind, no one took a break to question him further, jumping right back into the conversation they’d been having.

“Technically Taehyung is still part of the community because he’s on the aro ace spectrum-”

“Hyung.”

Seokjin lifted his hands in surrender. “I know, I know. You don’t like labels because sitting in a box created by social constructs is displeasing to your free, not constructional soul.”

“What.” Jeongguk was very, very lost.

“What I’m caught on is what signals you picked up on that made you think he was bi or pan,” Namjoon mused, peering at Jeongguk. “Because I got very heterosexual vibes the minute he walked in the door.”

Although he didn’t know why, he felt a little offended by the observation. Jimin seemed to see it, because he stepped forward to diffuse the situation. He got cut off by Hoseok.

“Easy. He keeps staring at your thighs.”

Jeongguk stilled.

“He gets pink when you speak-” Hoseok gestured to Yoongi before pointing at Seokjin. “And he gets wide eyed when he looks you full in the face. And when I smiled-” he grinned, framing his face as he lifted his voice into a cute aegyo. “I saw his eyes go eeee!”

The others reacted differently, rolling their eyes, scoffing, or laughing, but Jeongguk couldn’t move.

Jimin rolled his eyes, speaking up. “Come on, Hoseok-hyung. You’re reading too much into it.”

“Uhm, no.” He put a hand on his hip. “I’ve spent way too long being a wingman for each of you to not pick up the signs of attraction people give you. Especially suppressed homosexuals who think they’re hetero-”

“Hoseok.”

Eyes snapped to the speaker, but he didn’t look at them. No, his eyes were on Jeongguk, as they had been since Hoseok made his observations. He’d been pinned by the stare, unable to do anything under Yoongi’s narrowed, assessing eyes. He couldn’t help but feel that he saw right through him, that he could see the emotional turmoil Jeongguk was going through because Hoseok was right. He had looked at Namjoon’s thighs, been affected by Yoongi’s voice, and found Seokjin’s face quite pleasing. But that didn’t mean anything. He could notice those things and react to them, but that didn’t mean he was-

“You’re making him uncomfortable,” he murmured, eyes finally drifting away. Jeongguk could breathe again. “He didn’t come here to have his sexuality questioned and picked apart, and we barely know him. We can talk about other things than our identifiers.”

And that. Jeongguk appreciated that. But the feeling in his stomach didn’t go away. He needed to defend himself. To prove that he wasn’t-

“I can explain myself,” he blurted, drawing the group's attention. Jimin’s wide eyes made him shift, rocking back a little. “It wasn’t to… ah. Namjoon-ssi, I work out when I can and it’s clear that you do the same. I was thinking about how much effort I would have to put in to get my legs to look like yours.” He felt far too hot under their gaping stares. “And Aug- I mean Yoongi-ssi, I’ve listened to your albums a lot because I’m a fan of your work. It’s a little bit of a fanboy moment for me meeting you in person and listening to you speak. If—if I didn’t make that obvious enough already. Seokjin-ssi, you-” This one was harder. “-you are very handsome. I can notice something like that without—you know. I thought the same thing about Tae-hyung when I met him. And Hoseok-ssi…” he couldn’t help the way his voice dipped into a fond tone. He ignored the slight shift of expressions. “Your smile reminded me of Heeseung’s. Thinking about it now, it’s not that similar, but…” he rubbed the back of his head, sheeping. “I guess I miss my son?”

Even though he was under their attention for less than a minute, he found himself exhausted under their stares. His hands slipped into his lap, fingers fiddling with the bandaid.

“I’m sorry if I made any of you uncomfortable. Or gave you the wrong idea. Especially Seokjin-ssi and Namjoon-ssi since you’re both in a committed relationship.”

As silence pressed upon them for the second time that night, Jeongguk couldn’t ignore the tightness in his chest. He was overwhelmed and overstimulated. He couldn’t help but feel he’d ruined the night, and he definitely made a fool of himself. At that moment, all he wanted to do was go back to Jimin’s apartment and hide under a blanket. Maybe call his kids so he could stop focusing on himself and focus on them instead.

“Jeongguk.”

He looked up at Hoseok, already cringing. He didn’t expect to find the dancer grinning sunnily at him, entire body awash in happiness. He blinked as the man ruffled his hair, cooing at him. “You’re so precious. We’re definitely keeping you.”

“You didn’t make any of us uncomfortable,” Yoongi murmured, stealing his attention. “I think we all owe you an apology for making you uncomfortable though. I know how overwhelming all of us can be. Jimin asked us to keep it light and ease you into it, but-” he shrugged, apologetic. “-we didn’t do a good job of that.”

“We were nervous to meet you,” Seokjin admitted, rubbing at his cheek. “I think we were all desperate to make a good impression.”

“You were nervous?” Jeongguk repeated, dumbfounded.

“We’re a tight knit group, Jeongguk.” Namjoon smiled kindly. “So when Jimin invited you to join us tonight, well, that was a pretty big deal to us. We didn’t want to scare you away.”

“Unless you were a jerk,” Taehyung joked, eliciting a few huffs of laughter. Jeongguk found himself smiling, the knot in his stomach loosening. “But I already cleared you on that.”

“Yeah, Taehyung giving you the green light didn’t help with our nerves.” Hoseok laughed, patting Jeongguk’s shoulder. “Both Tae-ah and Jiminie liked you? Only the coolest people get both of their seals of approval.”

“But I’m not-” Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek, ducking his head. “I’m not that special.”

“Hey.” The sternness in Seokjin’s voice surprised him. “I’ve only known you for what, half an hour? And I can already tell that's not true. We’ve heard a lot about you from Jimin, and he doesn't embellish his stories. And based on the little I’ve seen, I think he’s spot on.”

Jeongguk peeked up at Jimin, finding him already looking at him, expression impossibly soft. It made his chest hurt and flutter, like a baby bird taking flight for the first time. Jimin smiled, taking his hand and squeezing. He seemed to say, see? I told you that you had nothing to worry about. Normally, Jeongguk would have been annoyed at the unspoken I told you so, but coming from Jimin, it didn’t feel smug or malicious. Instead, he felt warm, accepted, and soothed.

“I- thank you,” he mustered. “Uhm. For the record I think you’re all really cool. Even though I don’t know much about you.”

For some reason, his words made the other men laugh. Hoseok threw an arm over his shoulder, pressing their cheeks together. Jeongguk allowed himself to be squished, smiling unconsciously.

“Let’s change that, Jeongguk-ah! You’ll get to know all of us by the end of the night.” His grin turned devious. “Especially the dirty secrets~”

“That means we should start with you, right Hobi-hyung? One time I caught him-”

“Kim Taehyung I swear-”

Jeongguk laughed, the pressure that laid heavily on his chest completely gone now. He couldn’t remember the last time he sat in a room full of people like this. All of them laughing and ribbing each other, the air doused in connection and fondness. Sitting there as his own person, Jeongguk couldn’t help but revel in the feeling.

Warmth pressed against his shoulder, followed by warm breath against his ear.

“All okay?” Jimin murmured. Jeongguk turned slightly to look at him better, their faces closer than usual. He couldn’t help the grin and breathless laugh, squeezing Jimin’s hand.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “All good.”

Notes:

Serious end notes:
I thought I had a pretty thick skin when it comes to comments, but it's been made clear that I don't. (Considering this is in response to only two altercations; fear of it continuing, I guess) Please, don't misunderstand. I LOVE comments. Not just the ones singing praises, but the ones questioning the characters reactions and thought processes. It helps me dive deeper into character's personalities and motives, allowing me to understand them better. I noticed I'm straightforward with my responses and that can come across as defensive and even angry. I promise I'm not tossing aside your thoughts, but rather I'm expressing how I see it to point to a different point of view as your comment did for me. I sincerely apologize if I offended anyone in that matter.

If you have problems with a character's actions/my writing, point it out. If my response isn't to your liking and you still have an issue, maybe this story isn't for you. Or maybe patience is needed while the story progresses and decisions change in response to events that happen. Commend have been good and positive, but it takes one bad one for me to lose any and all motivation to write. (Constructive criticism is much, much different) Now, expressing dislike over a character or character action isn't going to send me running to the hills. I can handle a "I don't like this" and after I respond get a "I still don't like this." (though, dependent on the tone I get from it, I might not be as polite) But don't beat a dead horse. Don't argue with me over a character's ability to be a good person. Don't vilify them. (Heejin is an exception, but still don't burn her at the stake).

For the people who write stupid mean comments to troll or be mean, just. Stop. You're literally killing a piece of someone whether you realize it or not. Whatever happened in your life to cause you to be unnecessarily bitter or mean, sorry that happened but don't make it a cycle.

I tackled a big topic here, one of which I don't have ANY personal experience with. I'm relying on what I've read online and my own moral compass. Though, that does me little good because again, no personal experience aside from the detached sympathy I get after I read someone else's account. I'm trying really hard to do it justice. Which, leads me to the main issue on my mind.

Let me make this VERY CLEAR.

Jimin and Jeongguk are NOT in a relationship. There is such thing as emotional cheating, and being honest, they've done that here. It's been unconscious, and they don't recognize that yet. While he's not doing the best job of it, Jeongguk is being aware of what he is sharing about his relationship with his wife and is trying not to cross that boundary. Point A) their conversation in the park when Jimin offers to listen to his troubles and Jeongguk turns him down. Point B) after Heeseung has his nightmare and Jeongguk brings up an old issue to unintentionally put his wife in a bad light. He recognizes that and calls himself out, diffusing what could have easily turned into a ranting session about all the not-so-good things Heejin did/does.

Jimin doesn't deserve to know things about Jeongguk's relationship with his wife. I stress again, they're not in a relationship. FRIENDS are not privy to know things about their friends relationships aside from the norm. Things like, "Heejin likes butter pecan ice cream" or, "This is Heejin's favorite show" is completely alright. He's not entitled to know things such as, "It bothers me when Heejin does this or that" or, "We had this argument last night." That type of information CAN BE DANGEROUS to share, especially if it's on a regular basis and not being talked about/resolved between those in the relationship. That's not healthy. When it comes to Jimin, it's especially risky for him to know things like that as someone who has expressed romantic interest in Jeongguk. As it stands right now, Jeongguk's decision to not share that he and his wife are potentially getting divorced is a GOOD THING. That's not something that he should share since it's not set in stone and he's not planning on separating.

I DON'T want to make Jimin and Jeongguk into conscious cheaters who say, "What the heck I like you, you like me, who cares if one of us is married." I'm already playing a dangerous game by having Jimin and Jeongguk still hang out while there's feelings involved (which, honestly was not my intent when I began this story, but chapter 8 had a mind of it's own). I am trying SO HARD to not have them cross that line willingly. I can't say right now that they won't, because I don't know where this will go, but that's not the intent.

If a story with conscious cheating is what you're looking for, I know for a fact that you can find it on this site written by someone else.

It will not be written by me.

(Thanks for coming to my TED talk)

Chapter 14

Notes:

I'm sorry that this chapter came out later than usual. I had most of the chapter written, but Saturday night at work I kept thinking about it. I came to the conclusion that if I posted it, the story would go in a direction that I could continue on, but really didn't want to. So I spent Saturday night and today writing an entirely different chapter. I'm much happier with the result and in turn, the direction that the story will take going forward.

He got kicked out of the kitchen due to his minor injury, leaving him to the mercy of Namjoon, Hoseok, and Taehyung. Jimin hovered until Seokjin enlisted him in setting the table. He tried to argue, giving Jeongguk worried glances, but Taehyung slung an arm over his shoulder and led him away, wearing an up-to-no-good smile.

That smile was warranted, because just before Yoongi called them to eat, he helped him tie everyone's shoelaces together while Hoseok distracted Namjoon. They spilled into the cozy dining room giggling, earning a few narrowed eyes. Jimin giggled with them, despite not being in on the joke. His face glowed with happiness, eyes in a perpetual crinkled state. Jeongguk couldn’t help but feel satisfied, seeing him like that. He could admit now that despite their best efforts, things were strained between them. But surrounded by Jimin’s closest circle, he didn’t feel that undertow of walking on eggshells, and it seemed that Jimin didn’t either.

His nerves returned when they settled down around the table, but within the first few bites, it was forgotten in favor of heaping praises upon Seokjin for his cooking skills. In turn, he piled his plate high, ending his flustered protests with, “You’re the youngest here, Jeongguk. Let me take care of you.”

Jeongguk forgot what it was like to live in a society where age meant something. He’d always respected those older than him, as it was a social expectation in the states as well, but there wasn’t any reciprocation. Having the six of them dote on him left him warm and a little emotional. He did his best to return the favor, memories of his culture coming back to him as he sneakily refilled Namjoon’s empty glass while his attention was stolen by Seokjin.

He also kept forgetting that physical touch was given freely here. Living in Florida, everyone had their own bubble of personal space. Here, no one gave a second glance or apologized for bumping shoulders. On his left, Hoseok leaned close, grabbed his arm, and sometimes nudged his knee with his own. At his right, Namjoon ruffled his hair, squeezed his shoulder, and also nudged him with his legs. Taehyung, who sat across the table, accidentally kicked him once. (He got an apology for that one). Jeongguk could admit with surprising bitterness that he was experiencing a bit of culture shock despite having grown up in Korea. He didn’t like that something that had been so natural to him before—he had many memories of being all over his close friends in high school—now surprised him.

He didn’t get the opportunity to mull over that discovery. Even when not being directly spoken to, he found himself immersed in the conversation. He was delighted to discover that he shared something in common with each of Jimin’s friends. Not only creative pursuits—music, art, and dance—but other hobbies like exercise, gaming, and food. He never imagined he’d lean around Namjoon to match Seokjin’s and Yoongi’s enthusiasm as they discussed the best lamb skewer spices. And while it had been a few years, his off hand comment about Seoul fashion (something he silently took note of at Lotte World) dragged Hoseok and Taehyung into an increasingly loud and excited discussion of the evolution of fashion trends.

Jimin’s friends were excitable, boisterous, chaotic, and loud.

Jeongguk loved it.

He felt like he was back in college despite the maturity of age and time. It became hard not to feel like he was in his early twenties, surrounded by other twenty year olds as they bantered, teased, and alluded to past times. They always filled him in on the stories, making him laugh and Jimin whine in embarrassment when they informed him about his third person persona whenever he got drunk. He looked all the more grateful for his glass of water—he wasn’t drinking tonight, having proclaimed himself as Jeongguk’s designated driver. Jeongguk had a single glass of soju before switching to water, not wanting Jimin to be left out.

He felt entirely young when after the plates were mostly empty, Jimin suggested they play a card game and got a round of spluttering no’s. Their dissolving playful arguments and allusions of past altercations—“It’s not my fault you’re a sore loser, Tae!”—had him bent over and wheezing as his laughter lasted too long.

He knew without a doubt that Jimin was right. He clicked with the man’s friends just as he clicked with him. People he never thought he was missing in his life squeezed into the empty spaces, expanding the box he’d unknowingly shrunk down to only consist of Heejin, Heeseung, and Jungwon. He told Jimin that he was friends with the married woman in his town, but those friendships were pale in comparison to the camaraderie he felt now.

“Jeongguk, these are amazing,” Namjoon gushed. He pressed against Seokjin’s side as the two of them swiped through his art instagram. Taehyung and Hoseok had slunk away to grab a card game, despite the earlier protests. Yoongi and Jimin were in the kitchen, having cleared the table. Jeongguk half rose out of his chair to help before Seokjin—tossing himself over Namjoon’s lap in the process—laid an arm over his thighs to keep him seated. He subsequently demanded to see his art, leading to Jeongguk giving them his instagram.

“Thank you.” He tugged on his hair, trying to hide his smile. He knew that Namjoon liked art. Jeongguk’s style wasn’t even close to the kind Namjoon’s museum trips boasted of, but it didn’t seem to matter as he took each one in with wide, excited eyes.

“I’m surprised that you don’t have more followers.” Seokjin paused when he registered the next picture. “Is that Jimin?”

Jeongguk glanced over. It was one of the sketches he’d done of Jimin and Heeseung during their last day together. His son roped Jimin into coloring with him, only he insisted Jimin was doing it wrong. He had climbed into Jimin’s lap to fix his coloring page. It turned into him languidly coloring while Jimin held him, eyes closed, head tucked over his chin, and a serene smile playing at his lips. Jeongguk didn’t know why he decided to post it.

“Uhm. Yeah. And that’s Heeseung. I drew that… two days ago?” He tugged at his hair again, suddenly nervous. He hadn’t asked Jimin’s permission to post it, and the faces were quite detailed. Anyone familiar with Jimin could tell it was him. He needed to either take it down or ask if it was okay-

Jeongguk choked on a gasp as Namjoon thumbed the follow button. He knew for a fact that he’d been logged into his professional account—he didn’t know if he had a private one—meaning that RM had just followed him. Anyone paying attention to who the musician followed would see that Jeongguk was one of them.

“Namjoon-ssi, you don’t have to-”

“Call me hyung, Jeongguk.” He chuckled, lowering his phone. He pinned him with a serious look. “And I wanted to. I didn’t do that because you’re Jimin’s friend—honestly my friend at this point—but because you’re legitimately talented and deserve more recognition for your work. If I can make that happen by hitting a button on a social media platform, I’ll do it.” He tilted his head. “Unless you really don’t want me to?”

“W-well, I don’t mind, but-” He swallowed back his words when Seokjin raised his own phone, showing that the model was also following him.

“For the record-” he smirked. “I followed you first. Joon copied me.”

His husband sighed.

Jeongguk didn’t get a chance to say anything in response as Hoseok hollered from the living space.

“We shuffled the cards! If you three hurry we can play a few rounds before Jimin can ruin anyone else’s chances of winning!”

“I heard that!” Jimin yelled from the kitchen, his voice carrying easily. Yoongi’s laughter followed.

“You were meant to!” Taehyung shouted back. It drew the rest of them into giggling, and Jeongguk heard Jimin’s high laughter joining. He couldn’t join in, too busy wrapping his head around the fact that two widely known celebrities were following him. He wasn’t an idiot—he knew that would draw massive attention to his account.

“We’re coming,” Namjoon announced, shifting to stand. Seokjin joined him. “Are you going to join us, Jeongguk-ah?”

He barely heard the endearment, only managing to nod dumbly. He was halfway to standing before he noticed a few glasses were still on the table.

“I’ll follow in a minute. I’ll just take these to the kitchen.”

“Oh.” Seokjin moved to grab them. “I can do that-”

“I want to,” he insisted, firm in the knowledge that he needed a moment to himself. Seokjin must have seen it on his face, because he let go of the glass with a smile.

“Drag Yoongi-chi and Jimin-ah back with you. They really don’t need to do the dishes and those brats know it.”

Jeongguk chuckled. “Okay, Seokjin-ssi.”

He scowled. Jeongguk corrected himself with a quick, “Seokjin-hyung.”

“Better,” he relented. “But Jin-hyung is preferred.”

Jeongguk nodded enthusiastically, unable to stop the childish head bobbing. The couple left the room, leaving Jeongguk with the glasses and his thoughts. He gathered them slowly, dragging out the minutes and testing his patience. Eventually, he broke, twitchy fingers pulling his phone from his pocket. It didn’t take long for him to pull up the app and switch to his professional account. Sure enough, the notifications that Jin and RM had followed him were there, combined with a few others that he didn’t recognize.

Exhaling shakily, he clicked his phone off and slid it back into his pocket. He stared at the remaining dregs of someone’s drink, trying to contemplate his life. There were so many dramatic twists and turns to it. He didn’t know how he was handling it all. He wasn’t, if he was being honest. Nothing was sinking in lately, but in order to move on with life he strapped himself into the roller coaster cart and let it take him through every loop.

This is just another loop, he told himself. Grabbing the glasses, he managed to juggle the four of them in his hands and arms. He blankly made his way into the kitchen, numb to the sudden uproar of noise from the living space. It masked any noise from the kitchen, which is why Jeongguk didn’t hear the two occupants speaking until he was already interrupting, catching a murmured, “-always here for you” as he crossed the threshold.

He immediately halted as he caught Yoongi’s eyes, the man having lifted his head at the sound of glasses clinking.

It wasn’t difficult for Jeongguk to realize he’d stumbled into something personal, given that Jimin and Yoongi were wrapped together in an intimate embrace. Or rather, it felt intimate. Their similar heights didn’t deter Jimin from looking rather small in the other man’s arms, broadcasting vulnerability. It was just a hug, but given the tension and positioning, Jeongguk didn’t get the impression it was a simple show of affection.

“I-uhm.” His nervous stutter made Jimin pull away a little, blinking over his shoulder at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to bring these in…”

He raised the glasses, and one slipped dangerously before he tightened his elbow around it. The almost accident pulled the pair fully apart as Jimin moved to take the ones in danger of falling. Safely in his grasp, Jimin grinned up at him.

“You weren’t interrupting anything,” he reassured. “Hyung and I were just talking.”

It took an alarming amount of willpower to bite back the, that didn’t look like just talking, that wrapped around his tongue. Which, woah. That was a rather accusatory thought that he had no business having. Whatever Jimin and Yoongi did, whatever was between them, had nothing to do with him.

“Thanks for bringing the glasses, Jeongguk-ssi.” Yoongi stepped over to the sink, flicking on the tap. Jimin handed him a glass, setting the other on the counter. Jeongguk unstuck his feet, his arm brushing against Jimin’s as he set the others beside it.

“Jeongguk, please.” He bit the inside of his cheek, unable to meet Yoongi’s eyes. He didn’t understand why he felt… uncomfortable around him. He thought it had been the idol worship, but Jeongguk didn’t feel the same around Namjoon. It’d been that way ever since Hoseok questioned his sexuality.

“Please call me hyung then,” he offered amicably, giving him a small smile. Jeongguk forced his own, resisting the odd urge to take Jimin’s hand. “I’ve got the dishes from here, Jimin-ah. You should go play cards with everyone else.”

“Are you sure?”

Yoongi flicked water at him as an answer, making Jimin squeak and laugh at the same time. He bumped into Jeongguk in his escape, who reflexively put a steadying hand on his waist. Dark eyes darted down to the contact. Jeongguk retracted the touch as if burned. He held his breath when they locked eyes again.

Jimin, oblivious to the exchange, only laughed.

“Okay, okay! I’m going.” He shifted away from Jeongguk, leaning over to press his lips to Yoongi’s cheek. “Thanks, hyung.”

Jeongguk was speechless, unable to comprehend what he witnessed. Yoongi didn’t even blink at the display, gently nudging him away with another smile. Jimin tugged at Jeongguk’s arm, prompting him to walk with him as he chirped, “Come on Jeongguk! Let’s see what game they pulled out.”

The others were in the middle of a round when Jimin dragged him into the room. It was a cozy set up. They’d dragged the coffee table closer to the couches. Seokjin and Namjoon took up the loveseat, the latter leaning forward against his long legs as he placed a card. Hoseok sat in the middle of a three seater while Taehyung sat on the floor. Jeongguk automatically moved to join him, entire body on autopilot as his brain slowly drowned in its own brainly fluids. 

He didn’t know why he expected Jimin to follow, but when he didn’t, the space to his right felt rather empty. Off-set, he looked to find where he’d gone. He nearly choked on his own spit as he watched Jimin drop into Hoseok’s lap, ignoring the two empty spots on either side of him. Aside from a small, oof, at the addition of Jimin’s weight, the dancer made no other complaint. He shifted to accommodate the brown haired man, allowing Jimin to completely curl against him, knees drawn up and head on his shoulder. Hoseok angled his cards to him, letting him see the hand. Jimin hummed in approval.

At that moment, Jeongguk felt like the gas pedal in a race car. Completely floored.

Honestly, he should have figured it out earlier. Jimin told him from the start that his love language was physical touch. He’d been very giving with it, even when Jeongguk was a little more than a stranger to him. While he adjusted to the rise in physical affection he received throughout dinner, Jimin handed it out and received it effortlessly. He always had a hand on an arm, shoulder, or knee. He leaned into his friends when he laughed, often not moving when the giggles left his body. That resulted in him resting his head against a chest or shoulder. When they arrived and Jeongguk got over his initial shock, Jimin had hugged everyone in greeting. He didn’t leave his apartment without giving hugs to those left behind. Jeongguk wouldn’t be surprised if he gave out hugs just because.

This entire time Jeongguk had been questioning Jimin’s actions, wondering why cuddling on the couch—amongst other physically affectionate moments—wasn’t a boundary.

Physical touch wasn’t a boundary because, to Jimin, it was as natural as breathing.

He had a broad spectrum of platonic touch. Jeongguk remembered how Jimin acted with Taehyung, and that had been far past what was generally acceptable, even in their culture. Sitting on someone’s lap was borderline, as was kissing someone on the cheek. It would be common for a couple, maybe, but Taehyung and Jimin made it clear that wasn’t on the table for them. He doubted there was anything between him and Hoseok, since Jimin sat on his lap as if he were just another couch cushion.

And to think he’d gotten so worried about holding his hand.

He couldn’t help the breathless laugh that puffed past his lips. A weight he hadn’t known was on his shoulders lifted. He’d been so caught up in how he acted physically with Jimin, terrified that he’d cross a line somewhere. It wound him up so tight; no doubt it was the reason he’d been walking on eggshells around him. But now he had a better idea of where the line was. He wouldn’t go sitting on Jimin’s lap anytime soon, but he would stop getting so tense whenever they touched.

“What are you smiling about?”

Jeongguk turned his grin on Taehyung. He peered at him curiously. A glance around the room showed that the others were interested in the answer.

“Nothing important,” he deflected. His smile grew, turning into a laugh at Hoseok’s, 

“Well now I’m curious!”

“It’s seriously nothing,” he reassured, adding a shrug for good measure. He leaned back on his hands, relishing in the warmth blossoming in his chest.

---

He hadn’t realized how late it was until Seokjin glanced at his phone and cursed softly.

“Guys, it’s nearly one a.m.”

Jeongguk blinked, lips parting in shock. He pulled his own phone out to double check since he’d learned from one of their stories that Seokjin cried wolf a lot. Sure enough, the numbers cheerily blinded him.

They’d put away the game a while ago, after Jimin secured his sixth win in Skull King. Taehyung got to whisper “I told you so” in Jeongguk’s ear when he pouted the third time Jimin won. Jeongguk often came in second place, always a few points from taking his crown. Someone mentioned watching a movie, but they never got around to playing one, talking instead. Sometimes all together, sometimes in smaller groups. Jeongguk never felt left out, despite the others having far more shared experiences.

Before Seokjin checked his phone, they’d been in the middle of discussing Hoseok’s mixtape, Jeongguk getting the full explanation while the others got updates.

Jimin groaned, pressing his face into Hoseok’s thigh. He lay on the couch, his head on Hoseok’s lap and his feet in Yoongi’s.

“I have a meeting at seven,” he complained, voice muffled. A few of them hissed in sympathy. Jimin let out another whine before lifting his head. He was careful in swinging his legs to the floor. Jeongguk watched him stand before remembering with a jolt that he would be going with him.

“Wait, you’re working this week?” Namjoon questioned, his brow furrowing. “I thought since Jeongguk was staying with you that you’d take the days off.”

“Ah, it was a last minute thing.” He rushed to explain. “I couldn’t expect Jimin to-”

“I’ve got the rest of the week. I just have today.”

Jeongguk’s head snapped towards him. Jimin met his gaze with a sheepish smile. He waved his hands. “Surprise?”

“Jimin, you didn’t have to do that,” he rasped.

“Maybe not, but I wanted to. I felt far too guilty leaving you alone on Monday.” He ran a hand through his hair, which had been combed thoroughly by Hoseok’s fingers. “Besides, I only get to see you for less than a week before you fly back.”

At that, Hoseok sat up, face twisted in disbelief.

“You're leaving? So soon?”

“It was a two week trip,” he explained absently, reeling from Jimin’s words. “And it was a spur of the moment decision.”

“That's quite long then,” Yoongi commented quietly. “If it was a hasty decision.”

Unexpectedly, Jeongguk felt defensive. “I hadn't seen my parents in a few years and my boys had never met them. It may have been hasty but it wasn't thoughtless.”

Yoongi tilted his head, a glint in his eyes. Jeongguk didn't like the way he looked at him, as if he could peel back the layers and see everything Jeongguk left unsaid.

“I didn't mean for it to sound like an accusation,” he murmured, calm and entirely unapologetic despite the words.

Jimin’s nervous chuckles broke through their staring match. Jeongguk blinked the rest of the room back into focus, noticing the shifting eyes and uneasy postures. Namjoon looked confused, glancing between Yoongi and Jeongguk. He leaned back in his chair, frowning as his stomach twisted unpleasantly.

Had he just gotten into a fight with Min Yoongi?

“What day do you fly back?” Seokjin cut through the remaining tension, seemingly unaffected by what just happened.

“Sunday.” He stood from the couch, shaking off the listless state he'd been in. “I'll probably head back to Busan on Saturday to meet my parents at the airport. They've got my kids in Jeju with them right now.”

“Got any plans?”

Jeongguk glanced at Jimin, biting the inside of his cheek. “Not really? I guess we've got something Thursday, but other than that…”

He trailed off once he noticed the looks being exchanged around the room. Silent conversations made with eyebrow raises, lip twitches, and little sighs.

“Have you ever gone bike riding along the Han river?” Namjoon suddenly asked.

“Uh. No? I haven't actually spent a lot of time in Seoul aside from school trips.”

At that, the friends all leaned forward, immediately talking amongst themselves.

“My week is pretty light with only a few photoshoots—I can take him to the night market.”

“If you're going to be in Myeongdong I should join you for the shopping street.”

“Would it be pretentious to take him to the company building? He's into music so it might be cool to have a behind the scenes.”

“Should one of us take him to the palace-?”

“He's not a tourist,” Jimin effortlessly jumped in, turning the circle of give into six. “He's lived here before.”

“Yeah, but in Busan-”

“Lamb skewers. He's got to have the ones in Itaewon from that one restaurant. Ugh I can't remember the name of it.”

“Taewon Lamb Skewers,” Yoongi offered, the first thing he'd said in their circle. “I can take him today.”

That pulled Jeongguk out of his stunned state, his mind catching up. They were planning things to do with him.

“Wait, wait,” he spluttered. “You all don't have to feel obligated to do this.”

“It's not an obligation.” Hoseok was surprisingly stern and quick to argue. He lifted his eyebrows at him. “If you're only going to be here until Saturday we're going to make the most of it and squeeze in as much time with you while we can.”

“But I'm just a-”

Stranger. He held onto the word, afraid to say it lest they confirm his childish insecurity. They weren't his friends. They were Jimin's. Surely four hours spent in his company wasn't enough for the investment of time they hinted at giving him. They wouldn't know him for more than a week before he'd disappear, going back to Florida. He'd go back to his at-home life. His perfect house, white picket fence, and lazy dog. The quiet neighborhood with gossiping housewives and husband's. He’d return with his two boys to the only life they'd known.

This trip would turn into something akin to a dream, making him wonder if it even happened at all.

“Jeongguk-ah.”

The call of his name forced a lift of his chin. Seokjin smiled softly at him, as if he was aware of his thoughts.

“In case we weren't being obvious, all of us would like to be friends with you.” Jeongguk nearly gasped at the bold statement. “Tonight was your initiation, so to speak.”

“In other words.” Taehyung snickered, giving him a lopsided grin. “You passed. Now you're stuck with us.”

“I already said we were keeping you.” Hoseok reached out to grab his hand. He swung it between them with a blinding grin. “Welcome to the friend group, Jeonggukie.”

“Unless you don't want to be friends with us,” Seokjin sniffed, crossing his arms. “If that's the case, full offense taken.”

As if Jeongguk hadn't been embarrassing enough, standing right then and there in the middle of Namjoon's and Seokjin’s living room, he began to cry.

“Oh shit,” someone breathed. Jeongguk didn't know who. Hoseok let go of his hand, face twisting in panicked concern.

“Jin-hyung look what you did! You made him cry!”

“I didn't mean to!”

“Jeongguk you don't have to be friends with us if you don't want to!” Namjoon babbled, half risen from the couch. “We didn't mean to pressure you-”

Jeongguk let out a half laugh, half sob. It occurred to him that they were all in their late twenties, two of them in their thirties, and they were discussing friendship like school children on an elementary playground.

He didn't startle when Jimin stepped in front of him. His fingers lifted in an attempt to soothe, brushing across his cheek. Jeongguk almost shied away from the touch before remembering that this probably didn't mean anything to the other man. So he allowed Jimin to brush away the few tears that had fallen, his mouth pressed into a concerned line. Not wanting him to worry, Jeongguk took one of his hands and lowered it between them, squeezing reassuringly. Jimin let the other fall to his shoulder.

“You didn't pressure me,” he addressed the hovering group, his smile wobbly as he fought to gain control over his emotions again. “I’m just happy.”

As the word pressed past his lips, the emotion burst in his chest. He welcomed it eagerly, blinking back another wave of tears because he had spoken the truth. He’d definitely had his moments of joy and happiness since the nightmare of two weeks ago, but it hadn’t been as bone deep as it was now. Jeongguk truly was happy. He hadn’t been that way in a long time.

It gave him hope for the future.

“In that case,” Taehyung cleared his throat and performed a dramatic, princely bow. “Jeon Jeongguk, we graciously extend the invitation for you to join our inner circle. As the doofuses of the round table-”

“Hey!”

“-we eagerly request your membership and addition to our ranks. Dost thou accept?”

“Someone get him off stage. He's embarrassing us.” Despite the groaned words, no one could mistake the fondness for anything else.

“Nah, this is pure comedy.”

This time, Jeongguk's laughter was rich and full. He stepped back from Jimin to give a bow of his own, but it was a true, formal bow. He had to show his gratitude and thankfulness to these older men somehow.

“I accept.”

When he lifted his head, he was blindsided by six, bright smiles. Even Yoongi grinned at him, putting aside whatever weird block they had. Jimin's seemed brighter than the rest, growing as he took Jeongguk’s hand again.

He wanted to freeze this moment in time and never let it go.

Notes:

So unrelated, but while writing my sister was playing videogames with my brother. I was in the zone, but this filtered through, "You're telling me that watching all of these NPC's kill each other doesn't make you happy inside?"

I never said "What." faster in my entire life.

(They were playing Baldursgate; in case you were curious)

 

(Happy Mother's Day as well. This goes to anyone out there that plays a nurturing role in someone's life)

Chapter 15

They stumbled into Jimin’s apartment past two a.m, both dead on their feet. As Jimin took off his shoes, grumbling once again about finding them tied when they tried to leave Seokjin’s—resulting in them staying another thirty minutes as recollections of old pranks surfaced—Jeongguk encouraged him to wash up first. At this rate, Jimin would get less than four hours of sleep before he had to get up and get ready for his meeting.

Jeongguk sat on the couch in almost total darkness aside from the hall light, grinning stupidly at the group chat he’d been added to. There were already a few texts and jokes from the other members as well as a personal one from Namjoon asking if he wanted to go cycling later that morning. Jeongguk responded eagerly, giddy with excitement at having five new friends to spend the week with. Seokjin promised he’d text an itinerary of who he would be hanging out with and what they’d be doing. Jeongguk gave him the greenlight to schedule his life because he legitimately had no plans.

Checking his other messages, he found two from his mother. The pictures of Heeseung and Jungwon at the beach were immediately saved. He zoomed in on one of them playing in the sand, his oldest with a bucket and shovel. Without thinking, he sent it to Heejin. He didn’t realize what he did until a response flashed across his screen as a banner.

Your mom already sent these to me.

He didn’t get the chance to respond before another one rolled in.

Isn’t it one in the morning over there? Why are you up so late?

The innocent question unexplainably annoyed him. He began tapping out a response before giving up and calling instead. Once again, he realized too late that he wasn’t supposed to do that, but Heejin answered before he could hang up.

“You’re really lucky I’m on my lunch break right now,” she hummed, trying to sound amused. Jeongguk could only hear the irritation in her tone. “So what is this? A booty call?”

His jaw tightened. A scoff pushed past his lips, followed by a disbelieving, “Wow.”

A beat passed between them, heavy and thick. She’d been joking, but he didn’t see the humor.

“Sorry for insinuating,” she said slowly.  “Why did you call?”

“I don’t know, maybe because I hate texting? You know that,” he muttered, rushed and on the edge of harsh. Suddenly, he didn’t want to talk to her.

“You don’t like phone calls either.”

“What else am I supposed to do when my wife is on the other side of the world?” He sat up straighter on the couch, one hand curling over his knee. He squeezed it, trying to keep his emotions in check.

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, widely out of the blue. Jeongguk’s eyes widened before narrowing, focusing on a potted plant on Jimin’s entertainment cabinet.

“What? My wife? Is that not who you are? Because last I checked-” his voice dipped into a growl. “-I haven’t signed any papers to change that. Ring on my finger or not.”

He said it as a warning without meaning to. It hung in the air as a clear threat, pointing her back in line. She scurried to it as if a dog with their tail between their legs.

“I’m sorry. I—It’s been a long day.”

He swallowed back the rocky bitterness in his throat, letting it sink and join the guilt swimming in his stomach. He ran a finger over his empty left hand.

“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to start an argument.”

“You didn’t start it, Jeongguk. I did.”

“No, I-”

“Jeongguk.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, shrinking into himself at her tone, the one she used to put an end to any and all discussion. He knew it well and learned that his stubbornness wasn’t a match for it. Things were easier if he let her win. It meant the fighting stopped and they got along again. He recognized the pattern not only in their arguments, but in their decision making, which often turned into arguments. Why had he never seen it? Why did it unsettle him now when it didn’t bother him before? No, it had, but he always let it go on the basis of compromise. That, or Heejin kissed it better.

But now that he thought about it, he couldn’t seem to remember the last time Heejin compromised on a decision in his favor. Unless it came to the boys. Jeongguk never backed down when it came to them.

“You never answered my question,” Heejin muttered. “Why did you call me?”

“You asked why I was awake,” he whispered, entirely drained. “I wanted to tell you.”

The words were a subtle question if he could tell her about his day. Because if he wanted to answer her simply, he would have answered with a text. But he wanted to tell her the story, to weave the tale and let her hear the excitement in his voice. The joy in his words. He held his breath, waiting for the rejection. He waited for her to remind him that she asked for no contact. Or for her to say something about her lunch break ending soon. Maybe a promise that he could tell her later, only to be brushed off again until later was too late.

“I should be headed back to work-” 

There it was. “Okay. I un-”

“-but I’ve got ten minutes.”

His sinking heart slingshot back into commission. He scrambled for words, the stuttering making her laugh. For the next ten minutes, he eagerly recounted the evening to her, rounding back multiple times to add in things he forgot. She hummed and hawed; he imagined her to be smiling. For those ten minutes, he allowed himself to forget what happened between them.

“-and then he pulls out a mermaid card out of nowhere! I swear Jimin has a second copy of the game and hid cards up his sleeves to switch out when he needed them. Hobi-hyung had a similar thought because he gave him a police pat down to find where he hid them. I’m-” he cut himself off with a laugh, groaning directly afterwards. “-I’m so sore from laughing.”

“...it sounds like you had a lot of fun.”

Despite the cheery sentence, she didn’t sound happy. No, she was melancholic. He'd laid down at some point during his story, but hearing that, he sat up.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, low with concern.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong at all, I just…” she sighed heavily. “It’s been a really, really long time since I’ve heard you like this. Not since… not since we had Heeseung.”

His mind raced. Had he truly not been-? No. No, that wasn't true at all. Despite recent months, he remembered plenty of moments he'd felt, spoke, and acted this way, with and without his kids. His kids may have become his life, but he still had things separate from them that brought him joy. Husband and father were his first descriptors, but after tonight, Jeongguk could list a lot more. Those things had never gone away—they just became less important in the hierarchy of his mind.

He stopped speaking and acting this way around her because she stopped listening.

His stomach lurched at the thought, not wanting to accept it, but recognizing the sinking of his heart as truth.

“Well, it's not like you've been around enough to know.”

He winced as soon as the words left his mouth. Heejin inhaled sharply on the other end of the line.

“Jeongguk,” she reprimanded, hurt and annoyed. “I thought we were past this.”

He thought they were too. But now, sitting in Jimin’s apartment and remembering the light bulb thought he'd had in Jimin's room several nights ago, Jeongguk had to know.

“We're not. And the fact that we're not means we need to talk about it.” He threw his legs over the side of the couch, leaning his elbows on them. He strapped himself in for the conversation. “A lot of the time you were gone you claimed it was work. How much of that was a lie and you were actually seeing Yugyeom?”

Heejin was quiet for a beat too long. “Jeongguk, I don't have the time to get into this right now.”

“Then we can leave it for another time after you answer my question,” he compromised, fighting to keep his voice level. Of course she didn't have time. She had to go back to work.  He couldn't blame her for that, she warned him, but it still made him pissed. Because now the excuse, valid or not, felt like a code. A curtain to pull over his eyes so he didn't question if she didn't anything else with that time.

“I really have to go.”

Deflecting. Again. Why did she have to be so damn difficult all the time?

“Answer the question, Heejin.”

“Why does it matter?” she hissed, desperate. She acted like a cornered animal. “Can you just admit that I messed up without dragging it out painfully? Because it hurts, Jeongguk! It's hard enough going to work right now without you pulling up things like this.”

He almost felt guilty. He almost backed down with an apology on his tongue and a reassurance that she could get through the day.

Instead, the twisted dark feeling of manipulation crawled over him. Whether intentionally or unintentionally, she played to her own emotions. She was struggling and hurt too. It affected her at work. Woe is me, she cried, expecting him to drop the argument so he didn't cause her further distress.

If it was just Jeongguk in the equation, he probably would have.

But no. This affected his kids.

“It matters,” he stressed each word, laying them heavily in the fight ring. “Because when I told you that your children needed you, the excuse you gave was work.”

Silence pitched between them.

He already knew the answer.

“I can't believe you.” He trembled. Anger, disgust, despair—he didn't know. “Heejin, I can't-”

“I realized how messed up it was when you called me out on it last time. I got better-”

“You got better?!” he snapped. “Maybe you did, but the fact that there was a problem at all-!”

“That's not fair-”

“Not fair? Not fair?!” He stood, immediately falling into a pacing step. “It's bad enough that you had a husband. You also had two kids. Two precious, innocent little boys. One of which looks at you and treats you like you made the universe. How could you leave them—us, your family —behind? How could you so easily use time that should've been spent on Heeseung, on Jungwon-” his voice rose in volume. “-to have an affair for almost an entire year?!”

“Jeongguk-”

“I'm not finished,” he snarled, chest rising and falling as if he was back in the dance studio. Heejin didn't interject again. “While I was raising our children, having to reassure them that their own mother loved them, you were off who knows where pretending we didn't exist while you screwed around. So tell me, Heejin. In what way is that better? What excuses did you think of to convince yourself that abandoning your children was ever okay?”

She remained silent aside from her hitching breaths. He'd made her cry, but for the first time since he'd met her, Jeongguk didn't care. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“It matters,” he rasped, nails cutting into the skin at his palm. “Because you didn't just hurt me. You hurt our kids. You hurt Heeseung. And I don't think I can ever forgive you for that.”

Heejin inhaled sharply.

Then she hung up on him.

Jeongguk listened to the silence ringing in his ears for several seconds. Numb, he let his arm fall, fingers barely keeping a grip on his phone.

“...Jeongguk?”

He whirled around, locking eyes with the figure standing at the mouth of the hallway. Jimin had an arm wrapped around himself, drowning in an oversized shirt spotted with the water dripping from his wet hair. He gnawed on his bottom lip, hesitant yet concerned.

Deep rooted panic overtook him. How thick were Jimin's walls? Had he heard everything?

“What did you hear?” he demanded. Jimin's eyes widened. Jeongguk winced. “I didn't mean-”

“I—I didn't,” he interrupted, answering the question. “I couldn't make out any words.” His eyes widened further as he unwrapped his hands to wave a little in panic. “Not that I was trying to! I could only tell you were… upset. I-” His hands lowered, head tilting. “Is everything… okay?”

He could lie. Forcing a smile wasn’t that hard. Even if Jimin saw through it, he wouldn’t push past the line Jeongguk drew. Instead, he’d give him space or make a joke to ease the tension. If Jeongguk chose to talk, he knew that Jimin would sit, listen, and talk it through with him as he did on his parent’s porch.

Jeongguk wanted that. He was so sick and tired of pretending that everything was alright. As if he wasn’t suffering. As if his ring finger didn’t constantly burn with the lack of weight from a ring that should be there. A ring he didn’t know if he wanted to wear anymore.

Because even if he stayed with Heejin, he didn’t want to wear a representation of vows that she didn’t keep.

“No,” he croaked. Jimin’s face fell, taking a step forward as if biologically programmed to join the side of whoever was hurt. “Far from it. I-”

His throat closed up, both from emotion and realization that he couldn’t tell him. It wasn’t fair to him. Not only as a friend having to carry part of his burden, but because of that stupid night on the swings. He couldn’t tell him because Jimin liked him. Puppy crush or head over heels in love, it wasn’t fair to hear complaints about his relationship.

But Jimin already knew Jeongguk wasn’t happy. It had to be written on his face, clear as day. If the damage was already done, would hearing about it really make a difference? Or would that be taking advantage of the situation?

Jeongguk didn’t know.

He swore, pressing at his eyes with his fingers. Exhaustion pressed down at him, muddling his mind. Already emotionally drained from the earlier events and then his argument with Heejin, it wasn’t a surprise to him to find tears building up in his eyes. He was so over crying. And he was so done with this battle of figuring out what was okay or not with Jimin. He wanted to just stop. Thinking.

“Jeongguk.” Jimin sounded closer. Through his watery eyes, he found him half a step away. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, but please-” the word tightened with emotion. “-please let me know what I can do.”

There was a lot he could do. He could wipe his tears away like he did earlier. He could hug him as he had on the porch. He could lead him to his room and tuck both of them underneath the covers and hold him. That last thought tempted him immensely despite being higher on the scale of intimacy than even sitting in someone’s lap. Jeongguk was so starved for comfort it tugged at every single strand of self-restraint and consideration.

As a last, desperate effort to not cross his own boundary—that he just realized was one—, he blurted, “Do you have ice cream?”

Jimin stood quiet for a moment before a breathless laugh escaped him.

“I don’t think I do-” Jeongguk almost whimpered in despair. “-but I know for a fact that Taehyung always does. I’m guessing you want some?”

Nearly sobbing in relief, Jeongguk nodded and sniffled, wiping hurriedly at his face.

“Anything else?”

He was in the middle of shaking his head, but his mouth traitorously ignored the physical action with, “Do you have the Iron Man movies?”

He felt like a child as Jimin herded him to the couch and dropped a blanket over his shoulders. While Jeongguk curled up into a ball, Jimin handed him the remote, promising to be back. Jeongguk had the movie queued up and waiting when Jimin returned, shuffling in the door with three Baskin-Robbins pints stacked in his arms.

“I didn’t know what kind you like so I took all three,” he babbled, setting them on the coffee table. Jeongguk didn’t even glance at them, fighting off another wave of tears instead. “I’ll go get some spoons-”

“Why are you like this?”

Jimin stopped, blinking down at him. Jeongguk pulled the blanket tighter over himself, sniffling.

“Why are you so…” he didn’t have a word for it. He steeled himself and asked the question he dreaded. “You’re not just treating me like this because—because you like me, right?”

He waited for the anger or the guilt, but neither came. Jimin only shook his head.

“I’d do this for any one of my friends, Jeongguk.” In the low lighting, Jimin’s eyes were darker than usual. “I don’t care about that right now—I care about making sure you’re okay. I like to think that's common decency rather than an attempt to woo you.”

Jeongguk shouldn’t laugh at that, but he did. It turned into hitching sobs. Jimin forwent the spoons, dropping on the couch next to Jeongguk and pulling his blanket burrito body into a hug. He went willingly, letting go of all reservations to sag against him.

“You didn’t ask for this,” he cried, voice muffled by his shoulder. “Hyung, I’m such a mess and you never asked-”

“I didn’t, but don’t you dare think I don’t want to be here for you.” He cut away Jeongguk’s blossoming insecurity before the first petal peaked. “I knew from the very beginning—from the plane—that you were dealing with something. I had all that time in the world to step away if I wanted to, and I never did.”

“And it’s not- it’s not hurting you?”

“Of course it hurts me.”

Jeongguk lifted his head from his shoulder, eyes wide. Jimin shook his head at him. “Not like that. It hurts me because I don’t like seeing people I care about in pain. Not everything revolves around me liking you, Jeongguk-ah.”

“How can you be so unworried?” Jeongguk was stressed out of his mind with how he acted around Jimin, not wanting to give him mixed signals. He didn’t want to lead him on in any way. That’s why boundaries were being set, though Jeongguk really needed to know them before he stepped on the landmine that set them off.

“Easy.” One hand rose to ruffle Jeongguk’s hair. “You don’t like men.”

Jeongguk’s stomach twisted.

“If there was any chance of you developing feelings for me, I’d act a hell of a lot more careful around you, but you’re straight. And since Heejin-ssi didn’t give me any boundaries-” Jimin smiled brightly, or as bright as he could at three in the morning. “-I’m acting like I would with my friends.”

He took several breaths to try and rid himself of the salty liquid in his eyes. He cried too much this month. It wasn’t like he forced himself not to cry when he needed to, but he had to be strong in front of his kids and pretend like he was happily in a love filled marriage around everyone else but his parents. Even then, he plastered on a smile for them. The only place he could safely and freely cry had been tucked away in a guest room, buried under sheets and pressed face first into a pillow. Because he didn’t want to break his parents' hearts. He didn’t want to scare his children. With no one to confide in, the weight of his world pressed heavy on his shoulders.

The weight didn’t feel as heavy with Jimin.

“I’m stressed,” he said aloud.

“Am I causing it?” Through the layer of the blanket, he could feel his hand soothing over his shoulders and down his back in comforting passes. Jeongguk didn’t want to have this conversation, but it was a welcome one compared to the alternative.

“You were a little.” He could be honest about that. “But after seeing you with your friends… I get it now.”

Jimin made a questioning noise. Jeongguk wiggled a hand out to poke at his knee.

“Physical touch,” he explained, keeping his face on his shoulder. “I kept wondering why it wasn’t a boundary. You live and breathe it.”

His words made Jimin giggle. “Ah, Jeongguk, you don’t know the half of it.”

“I know you’re a lot more conservative with me, and I’m okay with that. I’m just glad I don’t have to second guess every time you give me a hug or hold my hand.”

Jimin shifted away, prompting him to look up. He frowned at him.

“That’s a bit insulting,” he provided cautiously. “I wouldn’t do something that would intentionally-”

“I don’t mean to offend, hyung,” he interrupted, understanding where he was going. “But it’s a response born out of the fact that you did admit to having some semblance of feelings for me.”

Jimin’s face soured. For a moment, Jeongguk thought he’d argue with him, but then he sighed. “Okay, that’s fair.”

“I’m not worried about it now,” he reassured, minorly surprised that Jimin could see his point of view. Not only that, but agree with it despite his initial feelings. “But I…” he took a deep breath. “You said that we would talk about boundaries, but we never have. I need to, Jimin. I just don’t know what’s okay and what’s not, It… it almost feels like I’m walking on eggshells but without the pain. I don’t notice it until I hear the noise. I don’t want to step on the landmines and find out afterwards that I did.”

Jimin’s lips parted in a soundless oh. One hand rose to run through his hair. It looked difficult with the half wet strands. That reminded Jeongguk what time it was and when Jimin had to leave for work.

“But we can do it tomorrow,” he amended, stomach twisting guiltily. “I didn’t mean to keep you up-”

“It’s not the first time I’ve pulled an all-nighter and it certainly won’t be the last. That’s why coffee was invented.”

Jeongguk’s mouth worked wordlessly for several seconds before he remembered how to speak. Even then, Jimin beat him to the chase, expression serious.

“Jeongguk, this is important to you, isn’t it?” Hesitantly, he nodded. “Then I want to talk about it. Sleep can wait.” The seriousness slipped away to playful as Jimin suddenly gestured at the screen, still queued up with the first Iron Man movie. “Besides, even if we didn’t talk about boundaries, we have a movie to watch and ice cream to eat as a post-crying ritual.”

Jimin planned to stay up with him anyway. All because Jeongguk had an argument with his wife. If he could even call it that.

It made him cry all over again.

“Oh my gosh this is so annoying,” he whined, pressing the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. “What is wrong with me?”

“I’ll take that as a sign to go get spoons for the pitiful melting ice cream?”

Jeongguk nodded miserably, blindly swiping at Jimin as he laughed. He mumbled a thank you as he returned, pressing the spoon into his hand.

“I don’t want to talk about boundaries tonight,” He decided as Jimin popped the lid off of the mint chocolate. He glanced at him with a furrow in his brow. Jeongguk explained. “I can’t think properly right now. Nothing I say is going to be coherent at all. But we have to talk about them tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he agreed easily, passing the pint. “Tomorrow then.”

Jeongguk took it gratefully, groaning at the first spoonful. Jimin laughed, head tilting back with a wide smile. That entire night had been a push and pull of emotions. Nervousness, happiness, anger, sorrow…

Jimin pressed play on the movie, pulling the yellow throw blanket off the back of the couch to wrap himself in it. He settled back with his own container, eyes closing as he took his own bite. Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek, debating. He decided asking didn’t hurt.

“Is cuddling a boundary?”

Jimin glanced over, spoon dangling. He retrieved it with a quiet, “No?”

“Are you asking or answering?” Jeongguk huffed, amused.

“Answering, but also asking.”

He shifted over to lean against Jimin, wiggling to find the most comfortable position as his own answer.

Bittersweet, his mind provided. That’s how he could describe the night. Bittersweet.

---

Jeongguk shifted into semi-consciousness when he felt his pillow slide away. Blindly, he reached out to pull it back into place, but someone caught his hand and returned it to where it had been resting. His whine of complaint puttered out as warm fingers lifted his head to slide something soft underneath.

“Sorry, go back to sleep.”

“Jimin?” he questioned, mumbled against his new pillow.

“Yeah. I’m getting ready for work. Want me to set you an alarm?”

“Hmm. Nine please.”

He felt Jimin’s presence leave. He almost slipped back under before he felt him return. The blanket rose to his shoulders. Fingers brushed his hair out of his eyes. He hummed in acknowledgement. A low chuckle barely graced his ears.

“Sleep well, Guk.”

Jimin’s hand fell away,  but not before Jeongguk tilted his head up to press a tiny kiss to the skin in reach. He muttered over the small gasp, barely registering it.

“Be safe, Jimin,” he mumbled, retreating to the blessed emptiness of sleep. “Thanks for everything…”

Notes:

Me at the beginning of all this: Heejin can still be redeemed!
Me after writing this chapter and half of the next: ... ... ... okay. She's a jerk.
(I'm still fleshing out her and Jk's relationship and the more references I'm making, the worse it's getting)

I meant to move on to him hanging out with individual members, but then this happened so it got pushed back a chapter. Ahahha... :D

(Also, Happy Mother's day in France XD )

Chapter 16

Notes:

This is basically what I removed from chapter 14 since I wanted things to flow a little differently.

Jeongguk almost regretted agreeing to go cycling with Namjoon, but as they set out, that regret disappeared. Seoul was busy and loud at nine-thirty in the morning. Despite his eyes stinging, the pain caused by his late night, stupid crying,  and the oppositional force caused by biking, he kept them open as he widely took in the city around him. He’d been to Seoul. He’d walked the streets. It wasn’t new to him. But there was something about this morning that made him see the city in a brand new light. A light that grew brighter when they reached the biking trail along the river.

Namjoon wasn’t difficult to keep up with. He didn’t go for speed, but consistency with an edge of contemplation. He took his time observing his surroundings. He smiled at the trees, the spread of water, and the blue sky. It was taking a moment to pause and truly live in the space he took. Jeongguk knew he’d biked this trail before—Namjoon explained as they put on their helmets that he went biking four or five times a week—but he treated it as if it were his first time.

They weren’t doing the whole loop. That would take nearly three hours and Namjoon only had an hour and a half to spare. Jeongguk felt guilty, taking up time that he could have spent doing something else with someone else. He didn’t voice it, not wanting to receive a speech like he did last night. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the five of them wanting to be his friend. He wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t need it though.

“We’re almost to the spot!” Namjoon called over his shoulder, almost vibrating with excitement. It was apparently his favorite spot along the whole trail and he wanted to share it with Jeongguk.  It took them forty minutes to get there, but it didn’t feel like forty minutes had passed. Though, he felt the burning in his legs. Now he understood why Namjoon’s thighs were as thick as they were. Different muscles from what Jeongguk built from dance, but muscles all the same.

He knew why the spot was special when Namjoon slowed, hopping off the bike and dragging it off the bike lane. It was a small outcropping built to overlook the river and one of the bridges. The view was breathtaking. With the sun still rising to its peak, it made the water shine and sparkle. Across the river, Seoul buildings stretched high, the metropolis stark against the skyline. Jeongguk stepped up to the edge, putting his hands against the railing as he allowed breathless awe to cloud his mind. He felt small against the expanse of the city before him. It didn’t make him feel insignificant, but rather slid his mind into a place of perspective. He leaned against the high railing, crossing his arms over the surface. This wasn’t Busan. It wasn’t the city and town that he grew up in, but there was the whisper of this is my country that buried in his chest and didn’t leave. It was a beauty wrapped up in nostalgia that he couldn’t find elsewhere.

When Heeseung was born, Jeongguk was hit with a longing for home. He hadn’t been homesick in a long time. But night after night of waking up to his cries and soothing his son back to sleep, Jeongguk had fantasies of his son exploring the same spaces he had as a child. Instead of the beaches of Florida, he imagined a wobbling toddler experiencing the roll of the ocean in Busan. He saw him in his childhood home, unwrapping his presents under the same tree that Jeongguk had. It was the vision of buying his son’s first hanbok that pulled him over the fence.

His wife had been culturally assimilated, having little to no desire to hold onto her heritage because she hadn’t grown up with it. It didn’t bother Jeongguk until Heeseung entered their life. He wanted his son to attend the Lunar New Year festivals. He wanted him to know what Chuseok was. For goodness sake he wanted his son to be familiar with the currency in his home country. Not just the American dollar bills.

He didn’t remember how the words spilled from his tongue, but the blubbered, “Do you think we'll ever move to Korea?” left Heejin speechless

He swore it was their longest argument to date. She made it clear she was never leaving Florida while Jeongguk had only seen the place as a pit stop in his life. He’d gone overseas simply for his education. No one expected him to end up getting married and having a kid while there. The fact that he had citizenship in the country without a desire for it became a surprising bitter pill to swallow. He never expected to stay. How could he? Korea was home.

Heejin only saw it as a future vacation spot.

It was never a question to her, despite their arguments. They would stay in Florida. Their kids would be raised there. They would attend school there. Maybe go to college there too. All their holidays would be spent there. Eventually, Jeongguk stopped imagining his son in a hanbok. He no longer saw him on Busan beaches. It was enough to him that Heeseung was enrolled in Korean classes and that Jungwon would be as soon as he was speaking more.

Standing on this outcropping and overlooking the city before him, Jeongguk wondered why he’d ever given in.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Namjoon asked, stepping up beside him. Despite being obscured by a mask, there was a healthy glow to his face, eyes bursting with contained joy. He overlooked the river like a man in love. Having seen a similar expression on his face when he looked at Seokjin, Jeongguk figured he was.

“Yeah,” he mustered, unable to keep his eyes away from the scene for long. For several minutes, neither of them spoke. It was odd, how tension built and drained at the same time. The atmosphere soothed him, but the nerves of being one-on-one with Namjoon battled against it. The longer he was awake, the most it hit him that RM stood beside him. He wondered if he would ever get over the fan worship and see him as Kim Namjoon.

“When Jin and I looked for a place to lease, a balcony was non-negotiable.”

Jeongguk glanced over, finding him staring out, fixated on the point of the city with hazy eyes. The atmosphere shifted, no longer casual but edged with something deeper. 

“I write my best lyrics outdoors and there’s something about a view like this that helps to align thoughts with emotions. Clears my mind and provides insights that I might have otherwise missed. I used to sit on the balcony to write songs, but it quickly became a place for me to simply think. Jin calls it my ‘thinking through mid-life crisis’ spot’.”

His words weren’t pointed, but Jeongguk knew they were directed to him. His stomach twisted  as he leaned his weight into his hands, begging the railing to take it. He knew he hadn’t looked the best when Namjoon knocked on Jimin’s door. He’d slept through the alarm the older man had set and his eyes were swollen and red—evidence of his tears. He seemed to know that Jeongguk’s quietness that morning wasn’t normal, despite not knowing him well.

“Was I that obvious?” he murmured. If he wasn’t before, those words combined with the broken essence of his voice was. Namjoon gave him a sympathetic glance. Maybe pity, actually.

“Not until this morning, but I kept getting the impression yesterday that something was up.” His smile remained kind, but it didn’t pull at his eyes like before. “You’re not subtle in your glances or stares.”

It took a moment for Jeongguk to understand what he was referring to. When he did, he groaned, sinking further on the railing.

Last night, he couldn’t help but keep peeking at Namjoon and Seokjin. He was still wrapping his head around it. As far as the rest of the world knew, RM was single. Given his career as an idol—a rather lax one comparatively—Jeongguk didn’t doubt it would be dangerous to have that change. Especially with the stipulations against same-sex couples. It made him strangely sad. They couldn’t announce to the world that they were in love like other couples did. Not without backlash and consequences. He wondered how that made them feel. Were they upset, having to hide their relationship? Did they hide it at all? He knew no announcement had been made—Jeongguk may not keep up with all the celebrity gossip but that headline would have caught his eye. How did they make it work? If Jeongguk was in Seokjin’s position, he knew he would be jealous and bitter if he couldn’t outwardly proclaim himself as his. Especially since there were probably more than a few people clamoring for his affections. Did they ever worry that their respective partner would-?

Jeongguk immediately put a stopper to his train of thought, ashamed and embarrassed that he would think such things. It wasn’t his place. More than anything, he felt guilty thinking that either of them would entertain even a thought of disloyalty. The glances, smiles, laughter, and innocent yet meaningful touches the married couple shared throughout the night were stark clear of their infatuation with each other. More than once during dinner Namjoon had looked at this husband as if he was God’s greatest creation and he was the luckiest person on earth. Jeongguk—no one would ever know— shipped it. So hard. Which was embarrassing in itself because they were already married. But seeing them interact brought a giddy bubble to his chest and he had to fight not to giggle and kick his feet like a teenage girl reading a romance novel. Jeongguk had never been one for romance, but it seemed that this couple brought out that piece in him.

He and Heejin were once like that. She used to make him feel like a stereotypical school girl with a crush. Every touch used to bring goosebumps and the thrill of tamed excitement. He remembered grinning or smiling shyly whenever their eyes caught, whether they were across the room or sitting next to each other. Sometimes he’d whisper something cheeky in her ear and she’d squeeze his thigh or pinch his shoulder, laughing or biting back a smile.

But then they weren’t like that.

It was replaced with a simple arm around her shoulder. An echo of feelings. No goosebumps. A polite hand on his knee. No cheeky smiles, just tired ones that never reached their eyes. Going through the motions, she had told him.

Seeing Namjoon and Seokjin, Jeongguk understood that now.

“This is so embarrassing.” That drew a light hearted chuckle. Jeongguk hooked his chin over his arms, sighing heavily. “I promise I'm not creeping on you or your husband.”

“I wasn’t worried about that, but the reassurance is nice.” He peered down at his slumped form, thoughtful, in a way. Jeongguk let himself be observed and picked apart. Although odd, the fact that Namjoon didn’t immediately ask why he had been observing them brought warmth to his chest. The show of patience and trust to an almost stranger spoke volumes. Jeongguk hated that he felt overwhelmed by the barest hint of compassion.

“Ah, seriously,” he hissed, pressing his hands to his eyes. Hadn’t he already cried enough? “Sorry for all-” he waved a hand at himself. “-this. It’s been a rollercoaster of a month.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

The casual acceptance helped Jeongguk to make a spur of the moment decision.

“Namjoon-ssi, can-”

“Jeongguk,” he reprimanded, raising an eyebrow. “You need to start calling me hyung. I’m getting offended.”

The playful, teasing annoyance made him splutter with laughter. Namjoon’s smile grew, dimples pressing into his cheeks. The fanboy in Jeongguk squealed, but he slapped a lid over it.

“Sorry. Hyung,”  he stressed, grinning. It faded when Namjoon nodded at him, encouraging him to continue. “Can I ask you a few questions? About you and Seokjin-hyung?”

A group of cyclists passed their spot. Namjoon eye’s tracked them for a moment, fingers absently tugging his bucket hat lower.

“What do you want to know?”

“How did you two-” No. That wasn’t how he wanted to phrase it. “What helped you realize he was it for you? That he was the one?”

Namjoon hummed, considering.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever liked the phrase ‘the one’,” he answered, turning away from the railing. Jeongguk straightened, recognizing the tone from a few interviews he’d watched. There were a few times Namjoon got philosophical about music and life. He could be an inspirational speaker with how many times it happened.

“Why not?”

“It insinuates the expectation of perfection. Of finding your other half. That you’re settled completely and there’s never going to be anyone else.”

“There shouldn’t be,” Jeongguk argued, rubbing at his ring finger.

“Maybe not,” he amended. “But for a lot of people there is. They remarry due to divorce or the passing of a spouse. My grandpa remarried after my grandmother passed. For all intents and purposes, my grandma was ‘the one’, yet he married another person a few years later.”

“Okay, but that’s different.”

“Is it?”

Jeongguk’s mouth became a thin line. Stubbornly, he didn’t want to open his mind to his point of view. It would open a door of acceptability to his wife’s choices. While they were held under their vows, under their feelings, there shouldn’t have been another person. Yet, for her, there was. Though, he doubted that Namjoon had cheating in mind for this particular vein of discussion.

Namjoon must have seen it in his face, because he turned towards him. Patient.

“Humor me for a moment.”

He nodded, tucking away his surge of emotion. He was the one who asked this question. He needed to be willing to listen to the answer.

“I see relationships, specifically the longevity of them, as a testament to what we’re willing to work through with another person. We learn and grow through the build up and break downs. Through the arguments and languid waters. I married Jin,” he murmured, the man’s name sounding like a prayer. “Because he pushes me to be better. He supports me in my lows. Calls me out on my bullshit. He’s my biggest cheerleader and my greatest confident. He wants to be, and is, an active part of my life, no matter what stage it’s in. In short, he doesn’t complete me. He balances me. And the minute I realized that I wanted to do all of that for him, no matter how hard it got… that’s when I said yes. Because I love him enough to grow with him.”

He didn’t know why, but his explanation made his heart pound with apprehension of a sudden discovery or unveiling of something hidden. He didn’t understand it. All he knew was that Namjoon’s words affected him. His lyrics were deep for a reason. He breathed poetic, meaningful words. Ones that sank deep into his soul and helped him understand what was previously an ocean out of his grasp.

“Are you ever scared that you’ll stop loving him? Or that he’ll stop loving you?” 

The question tumbled out before he could think better of it. Namjoon blinked, drawing his attention from the roadway to peer at him. Jeongguk waited with baited breath, wondering if having a deep conversation with someone he barely knew was a good idea. He felt like he knew the man better than any of Jimin’s other friends aside from Yoongi—and Jimin—but that didn’t mean Jeongguk had free reign to ask such a personal question.

But there wasn’t a hint of alarm or wariness. Namjoon tilted his head in acknowledgement, thoughtful. Seriously considering. It helped fill the pit in Jeongguk’s stomach, quelling the anxiety of being vulnerable.

“Sometimes.”

Jeongguk should have left it at that, but he needed more. Before he could ask a follow up question, Namjoon continued.

“Jin and I have been married for three years-” Jeongguk’s jaw dropped. It was startling that he’d been married longer than him, but it was more so that they somehow kept their marriage a secret for three years. “-but we’ve been together for nearly ten.”

“Oh.”

Namjoon gave him a lopsided smile, not bothered by the interruption.

“With that time comes a lot of ups and downs. When you’re younger you're more insecure about these things, and I certainly was.” He took on a quieter tone. “After four years, I wondered if we were holding each other back from a better fit. That there was someone else out there. At this point I held onto the concept of ‘the one’. I thought, sometimes, that we’d make it two or three more years and I’d wake up one day and regret. And sometimes, I’d go a while thinking like that, often self-fulfilling those doubts.”

His transparency and vulnerability left Jeongguk speechless and admittedly honored. A little guilty too. Namjoon didn’t have to share this with him, but he did. All because he asked.

“But then…” His tone grew impossibly soft and fond. In love. There was no doubt about it. “He’d laugh or smile, or hell, even yell at me, and I’d feel that… spark. The zing.” Everyone described it differently, but Jeongguk knew what he was talking about. “I knew that as long as I kept feeling that—that we both were—we’d last a lifetime. Evidently-” he lifted his hand, showcasing the ring he wore. “-we’re both still feeling it.”

Another question curled around his tongue. It must have shown on his face, because Namjoon nodded encouragingly. Jeongguk still hesitated, holding onto it until he was near bursting. Throughout it, he stayed patient, letting Jeongguk choose and not pressuring him.

“What… what would you do if that day ever came?” he rasped. His hands hurt from how hard he gripped the railing. He felt the emptiness on his hand more than ever. “If something happened or one of you stopped?”

The purple haired man didn’t answer for a long time. Glancing over, Jeongguk found him glancing over the river, fixated on the rocks below. He never thought he’d see heartbreak and fondness weave so well together into an expression. He smiled, but his eyes were drawn in pain.

“I’d let him go.”

It hit him like a sucker punch, leaving him breathless and grasping.

“How-? Why-?” He didn’t have the words. “All those years… you’d let them go?”

“I would.” Despite the soft tone, he was firm. “It’s not the popular answer, but to me, it's the most realistic one. If Jin ever stopped loving me… I would hope that we would communicate with each other and do everything on our parts to hold onto it, but there comes a point where you have to let it go.”

He was speechless, and in his silence, Namjoon continued.

“A lot of people are distraught when something ends, especially on the side of someone who didn’t want it to end. But in the long run, both people learned something. Each relationship serves a purpose to teach us what we want. What we like. What we don’t. I said that Seokjin balances me, but he might not always. When we stop wanting to grow with each other, don't support our partner’s growth, or actively hold them back from it… that’s when ties should be cut.”

Those words hung heavily on him. An anvil’s weight on his chest- no. Atlas. He felt like he held the world on his back. There was no ‘psych’ or ‘kidding’ from him. Namjoon meant every word.

“Though,” he mumbled. “That would really, really suck and I’d probably bawl my eyes out for months.”

A laugh startled out of him, and the world fell off his shoulders. He held only a continent now. Although he wished it was Australia sized instead of the entirety of Asia, he couldn’t complain.

“Sorry,” he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck and chuckling. “That was a long answer to a simple question.”

“No,” Jeongguk breathed. “That was- thank you.”

The gratitude hung between them. Namjoon regarded him under wise eyes. Truly, he understood concepts beyond his years. Jeongguk felt like a teenager asking his parents for advice despite them being only three years apart.

And for the first time since they began talking, he saw Namjoon hesitate. His lips parted, then closed into a thin line. Jeongguk watched the fight, holding his breath and unsure if he should assume what he was going to ask. Had Jeongguk been in his shoes, he would have come to the same assumption.

“Jeongguk?”

“Yeah?”

“I might be crossing a line here,” he murmured, words slow and careful. Tip toeing on the invisible landmine. “But is everything with you and your wife okay?”

There it was.

His eyes shuttered closed, the pang of hurt, betrayal, and pure pain throbbing insistently in his chest. Yes, was his first knee-jerk response, followed by a blundering explanation. He hated that he wore his heart on his sleeve, letting anyone and everyone see the raw destruction of her hand. His hand too, as he couldn’t ignore his part in it.

But Namjoon had been entirely honest with him. Jeongguk couldn’t bring himself to not be just as transparent.

“Honestly?” He chuckled humorlessly. “No.”

Namjoon’s face fell.

“I thought so,” he said into the quiet.

“I’m trying-” his voice failed him for a moment. He had to blink back tears again. When that didn’t work, he lifted his head to the sky, willing them away. “-I’m trying to figure it out. This helped. I don’t know how yet, but it did.”

A hand fell on his shoulder. He inhaled sharply, trying not to let his breath catch wetly. Namjoon gave him a comforting squeeze.

“It’s not easy to be at odds with someone you love,” he offered gently. “Especially when you don’t know what to do or how to build from it.”

He couldn’t fight the tear that slid down his cheek. Or the one that followed after. Screw it. He resigned himself to crying in front of RM, Kim Namjoon, Jimin’s friend, whatever title he fell under. The hand on his shoulder shifted to stretch across his shoulders, drawing him into Namjoon’s side. A hug.

“Don’t convince yourself that you’re alone,” he murmured, soft spoken. “There’s someone else on the other side of that rift. I have no doubt that she’s also trying to figure it out. Don’t forget that you can figure it out together as a joint effort. The solution doesn’t rest solely on your shoulders, and it doesn’t rest on hers. It’s a burden you share.”

Shared burden.

It didn’t feel shared. No, Jeongguk felt like she’d tossed him into the ocean, straight into an undercurrent, to swim alone. He was dragged under over and over, unable to tell what was up and what was down. He asked for space, but that didn’t mean he wanted the complete isolation she insisted upon. There was no ‘we’ in his attempts to navigate this entire situation. He was doing it alone. She didn’t want to be a thought in his mind. It was almost as if she was checking whether or not he could live without her.

Scarily enough, he didn’t know if he could. Not even touching the emotional side, his entire future depended upon her. No degree under his belt, no savings to his name, no social life unattached to her—he had nothing. He’d built his whole life around Heejin, trampling upon his own desires, wants, and needs to give into hers. He convinced himself that their relationship was built upon understanding and compromise, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember a time when Heejin eventually gave in to one of his ideas.

Even more disheartening, he knew that if he asked to work though it together, she’d step back with a, “This is your responsibility, Jeon” as she did so often in the past.

For the first time in his life, Jeongguk felt irrevocably trapped and alone.

Notes:

I really wanted Namjoon and JK to have this conversation. For him to see the differences in their relationships and come to realizations of what was lacking in his own.

And hey! I know I'm a week early, but I decided that I want to try posting every week now, since I've been getting the chapter written a day or two after posting. Sunday will remain the update day. I've also got a pretty good idea on where this is going now, so I'm excited to see it progress as I write more!

Chapter 17

Namjoon led the way to a small cafe instead of back to Jimin’s apartment. After they locked Namjoon’s bike, he lifted his head and caught the enthusiastic waving in the window. Hoseok, in his red haired glory, lit up when he saw he had Jeongguk’s attention. There was another man sitting beside him, slumped over the table with his head pillowed in his arms. It took three seconds for Jeongguk to recognize the brown hair as Jimin.

“I’m passing you off,” Namjoon explained as he held the door open, laughing at Jeongguk’s wide eyed expression. “Hobah wants to take you down the shopping street in Myeongdong, but we figured we should feed you first.”

He hadn’t had time to eat breakfast, not wanting Namjoon to wait. He rushed to pull on fresh clothes and wash his face—that was the extent of his preparedness. He hadn’t even run a comb through his hair. Even now, he wished to take a shower, self conscious about the sweat their bike ride had produced. There wasn’t time to stress over the concerns as he was rushed in and led directly to the table. There was an array of pastries spread out on a tray, joined by a few cups of coffee. One sat just out of reach of Jimin’s limp hand, the man unmoving.

“Is he okay?” Namjoon whispered, dropping into the seat next to him. Hoseok snickered.

“Oh, he’s fine~!” His voice rose, drawing minimal attention to their table. “He just decided to not sleep at all last night-”

An unintelligible grunt sounded from the brown haired man, a hand shooting out to grab at the dancer. Hoseok squeaked as he was yanked by the shirt. Jimin lifted his head, sneering at him.

“Hobi-hyung, I will kill you.”

“Hey hey, no murder here.” Namjoon put a hand on Jimin, easing Hoseok’s shirt out of his grip. Jimin moaned in protest, choosing to roll away from the table and slump against Namjoon instead. He nuzzled into his shoulder, eyes sliding shut again.

“Jeongguk, you can sit down, you know,” Hoseok prompted, grinning as if he hadn’t been threatened earlier. He robotically dropped into the remaining chair, biting the inside of his cheek as he unrepentantly stared at Jimin. There weren’t any physical indicators of his exhaustion, but rather just a feeling surrounding him.

“Are you okay, Jimin-hyung?” he murmured, not wanting to aggravate whatever Jimin suffered from. He got a grunt in response. “I’m really sorry. You didn’t have to stay up with me-”

“No,” Jimin huffed, blindly swinging a hand at him. Jeongguk sat across from him, so he wasn’t even close. “I forbid you from feeling guilty. We already had this conversation last night, remember? I wanted to.”

“But-”

“Shut up and hand me a pastry.”

Jeongguk complied, annoyed that he wanted to laugh instead of continuing to apologize.

“What did you two do last night?”

The question was innocent enough, but Hoseok’s twitching lips made it clear he was on the verge of changing the undertone of it. Jeongguk frowned at him.

“We ate ice cream and watched all three Iron Man movies.” He picked at the assortment before him, stomach pleading for sustenance. He hovered between the soboro ppang and a croffle. He decided on both since there were quite a few for all of them to share. He pointed to an untouched mug of steaming coffee. “Is this anyone’s?”

“Yours,” the dancer chirped. “Jimin chose for you, so he’s the one to blame if it’s not to your taste.”

He shook his head with a laugh, not hesitating to take a sip. “Jimin knows how I take it.”

“Black,” Jimin muttered, still pressed to Namjoon’s shoulder. The taller man didn’t seem to care that Jimin was getting pastry crumbs all over his thigh.  “I don’t know how he does it.”

“I trained myself to enjoy it without additives after my third cavity from too much sugar and creamer.” He shrugged at Hoseok’s gasp. “That, and I cut sugar for a month or two before I got married. Obviously I’m not off of it now, but the threat of a cavity kept me away from the coffee portion of it.”

“Oh, I see.” He laughed. “Wanted to look the best for your lucky girl.”

“Something like that,” he said against the rim of the mug, taking another long sip. His eyes darted to the side, unintentionally meeting Jimin’s eyes. He stopped chewing and blinked at him. Weirdly flustered, Jeongguk looked away, raising his mug again. A chiming noise rose among the table, and Namjoon startled, sheepishly retrieving his phone from his pocket.

“Sorry guys, that’s my call to go.”

“Nooo,” Jimin whined in protest. “Stay and be my pillow”

“Hey.” He pouted at him. “I’m a lot more than just a pillow you know.”

Instead of responding, Jimin set the pasty down and wrapped Namjoon into a hug. “Have fun Namjoonie-hyung.”

Hoseok bounced up from his seat to also give him a hug. Jeongguk stayed where he was, debating if it would be awkward to give him the same treatment. Namjoon saved him from wondering because when he stood, he opened his arms up to Jeongguk with a wide grin.  He scrambled to his feet, nearly tipping his coffee when he set it down, and slid into his arms. It felt strangely similar to hugging his dad—Jeongguk would never ever admit that.

“Thank you for earlier,” he whispered hurriedly, wanting to express his thanks before he left.

“You’re welcome.” He kept his voice low, eyes darting to the people that sat only a few feet away. Hoseok and Jimin were wrapped up in a playful teasing match. “Jeongguk, I—I know we’re practically strangers, but if you ever need someone to talk through things with, I’m more than willing.”

“I appreciate that,” he mumbled. Sheepishly, he voiced his concern. “I just don’t want to take up your precious time. I have no idea what idol life is like, but I can only imagine you don’t have a lot of free time to spare.”

“I don’t,” Namjoon confirmed, but he smiled. “But I go cycling everyday as part of my workout routine.” He gestured to his thighs, and Jeongguk groaned. He had a feeling none of them would ever forget that. Namjoon laughed at his reaction, patting his shoulder consolingly as he ducked back. “If you don’t mind getting up early, you’re welcome to join me for the rest of the week. You can use Jin’s bike instead of renting one.”

Angels attracted other angels. That became crystal clear to him. Jimin and Namjoon were an entirely different breed. Jeongguk couldn’t believe he met them.

“Besides, Jin and I are the only ones that get married life. It’s not always a walk in the park.”

Jeongguk smiled as brightly as he could despite his heart sinking. Namjoon and Seokjin would understand some things, but others were completely out of their range. To his knowledge, neither of them had been cheated on. They didn’t have kids to think about.

“What's this about understanding married life?”

“Nothing,” Namjoon and Jeongguk answered at the same time. It made Hoseok laugh and Jimin pout.

“Fine. Keep your secrets. I'll figure them out sooner or later.” Hoseok winked, making his two friends laugh. It also drew a chuckle from Jeongguk, but far weaker. 

He really hoped he didn't.

“I should actually head out as well,” Jimin said with no shortage of apology in his voice. He rose from the small table, pocketing the phone that had been resting on the surface. Hoseok whined, but wrapped him up in a hug. Jimin’s head tucked underneath his chin.

“You’re not going to stay and finish your pastry?” Jeongguk frowned. He shouldn’t be disappointed that Jimin wasn’t coming along. He’d already taken the rest of the week off for him. From what he’d seen, Hoseok was the kind of person that got along with everyone. He shouldn’t be nervous about spending time with him, especially since the morning with Namjoon hadn’t been bad. Plus he’d spent a whole day with Taehyung—at this point he shouldn’t be anxious at the prospect of spending time with people without Jimin there as a buffer.

“I’ll finish it on the bus.” Jimin waved away his question. Hoseok squeaked and laughed when Jimin squeezed and released. Grabbing a napkin, he scooped up the pastry with a tired smile. “Walk out with me, Joon-hyung?”

“Wait, do I not get a hug?”

Jimin faltered mid-step round the table, blinking at him. Jeongguk registered the pout and whine in his voice too late. By then, he laughed. The other men joined him with huffing chuckles.

“You’re cute, Jeongguk,” Namjoon commented, a large hand ruffling his hair. Shocked by the action, Jeongguk’s autopilot malfunctioned between leaning into it and ducking away. “Forgive me if I start to tease you—I don’t think I can help it.”

“I was on my way over to you, Jeongguk,” Jimin revealed with an eye smile. He crossed the space between them, Namjoon retreating to give them space. Careful not to hit him with the pasty, Jimin tucked into him. “I wouldn’t leave you out. Besides, no one leaves without a hug.”

Simple words, but they meant far more than they should have. “I thought that only applied to your house.”

“It’s a Jimin rule,” Hoseok clarified, looking at them with almost parental fondness. Jeongguk remembered Jimin’s past comment about Hoseok breaking into his house to clean while Jimin was gone—that look made sense.

Jimin treated him to the same parting squeeze he gave to Hoseok. It could have been Jeongguk’s imagination, but it felt like he’d leaned on him for a moment, as if taking a split second to rest. Trusting Jeongguk to hold him up and give him the time to regain himself—he definitely imagined it. Not to mention reading too much into it.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said, pulling away. Jeongguk let his arms fall with hesitance. He didn’t provide a response, silent as Jimin and Namjoon both left, the bell on the door ringing in their absence. A sharp clap from beside him startled him into looking. Hoseok smirked at him, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“So,” he drew it out, his smile growing. “What do you say we take this to go, pick up Bam, and then hit Myeongdong?”

---

Despite being a puppy, Bam was impossibly well behaved even with the overwhelming smells that had to be assaulting him. Jeongguk knew because those same smells were drawing him in, his eyes darting from the numerous food stalls scattered throughout the shopping street. He may have eaten less than two hours ago, but it smelled divine. Despite being a Wednesday afternoon it was still teeming with life and people. Groups and individuals meandered along. Jeongguk spied at least three different busker’s along the sides, the sounds of bass, acoustic guitar, and light voices rising over the din. He held tight Bam’s leash, both as a failsafe in case something set him off and an attempt to ground himself.

If he’d been facing this crowd by himself, there was a high probability that he’d turn tail and go right back home. But Hoseok was confident where Jeongguk wasn’t. In the short one-on-one time he had with the man, there was no doubt in his brain that Hoseok was an extrovert. He never ran out of conversation topics and faced the crowd with excited energy. It bled from him, seeping into Jeongguk as well, helping boost him in facing what he viewed as a battleground.

“The funnest part about shopping is trying all sorts of things whether you buy it or not.” Hoseok nudged his shoulder with his, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “So if you see something that catches your eye, don’t hesitate to stop and look it over. Especially when it comes to clothes.”

“Like that?” He pointed to a window display just inside of a shop. The attempt of drawing customers came in the form of a bright neon jumpsuit. Hoseok lit up, nodding eagerly. He grabbed Jeongguk’s arm and pulled him towards the shop. Bam followed eagerly, tongue lolling.

From there, it began.

Jeongguk lost track of time as they made their way through the shopping street, Hoseok more often than not being the one to stop and coo over items. He tried on a few things; clothes, jewelry, bags, and picked up a few packs of pokemon cards for his friends. Jeongguk wasn’t as enthusiastic, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy himself. He got caught up in the antics a few times, trying on ridiculous hats and picking through key chains and charms. For at least ten minutes he tried on timberlands, Hoseok assigning himself to take pictures of each pair to show him how they looked. He didn’t buy any, convincing himself he was content with the overpriced leather jacket he hadn’t been able to put down despite probably not having any room in his suitcase for it.

 Jeongguk’s phone buzzed repeatedly in his pocket throughout the time, and everytime he checked, Hoseok had sent another picture to the group chat. There were quite a few replies from the other guys.

He scrolled through the text string while Hoseok paid for a pair of sunglasses he admitted to not needing, but wanted. He knew he wore a stupid smile when he read through Seokjin’s complaining about not being able to be there and Taehyung’s approval and disapproval of different pieces. Namjoon asked them to swing back to the stall Hoseok got the Pikachu stickers from and pick him up some Snorlax ones. Seokjin vetoed that with a photo of him pointing to a drawer filled with a bunch of stickers. Yoongi reacted to a lot of the photos and texts, but didn’t say much. Jimin didn’t either, simply hearting one photo of Jeongguk and Hoseok crouched next to Bam holding a new dog toy and grinning boyishly. He also warned them to don’t spoil my baby too much.

That was the last text, and Jeongguk’s fingers hovered over the keyboard to reply. Before he could even type one word, another text filtered through.

Kim Seokjin (hyung?)
R u referring to guk or bam?

His heart leapt to his throat. Tucking his thumbs away from the keyboard, he waited. And waited. Another text pinged.

Jimin
bam duh

Unaware he’d been holding his breath until now, he released it slowly. One had fell to pat Bam absently on the head from where he sat at his side. He got a lick for his attention, which distracted him from the next text when it came in. Another reply dragged his eyes back.

He balked.

Jimin
jeongguk needs to be spoiled

Min Yoongi-nim
so you keep telling us.

What was that supposed to mean? Was he irritated? Angry? He knew Jimin said that playfully but maybe Yoongi had taken it the wrong way-

“I’m back!”

Jeongguk startled hard, nearly dropping his phone. Hoseok waltzed up holding a bag that was a little too big for just sunglasses. He paused, tilting his head at his expression. Jeongguk didn’t know what he looked like, but it caused his lips to twist down in confusion.

“Are you okay, Jeonggukie?”

Shoving his phone back in his pocket, he nodded. “Yeah. Did you get something else?”

"Maybe," he answered with a shrug. He pulled his own phone out, and Jeongguk knew he was looking at the group chat. He fought a grimace, failing when Hoseok hummed and lifted his eyes, pinning him with a knowing look.

“I know how it looks, but Yoongi-hyung is teasing.”

He bit the inside of his cheek. All of Jimin’s friends were proving to be psychic or something, because Hoseok had hit the nail on the head. He kept getting the impression that he’d done something to put himself on Yoongi’s bad side. But for the life of him he couldn’t figure it out.

“You don’t believe me?” Hoseok prodded, frowning.

“I mean, I do, but I also don’t?” He cringed, rubbing the back of his neck. He accidentally pulled on Bam’s leash, forgetting they were attached. “There’s no reason for me to feel this way, but there’s been a few moments that I… I know it’s childish to be insecure. I mean, I’m nearly twenty-seven-”

“There’s no age limit to insecurity,” Hoseok cut him off firmly. As if a switch was flipped, all of his playful cheerfulness bled away to stoic seriousness. “You haven’t done anything childish in response to feeling that way. I don’t blame you. It’s difficult to feel liked in a new group of people. I know that because I feel insecure. Did so last night and it hasn’t magically gone away. I think we all feel that way.”

Jeongguk blinked at him in surprise. He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“But you’re doing so much to help me feel welcomed…” he shifted on his feet, chest tight.

“And we’re going to keep doing so.” He nodded in agreement to his own words. “But it’s easy for us to forget that there’s someone amongst us that isn’t used to our tones and energies. Taking Yoongi-hyung as an example-” he broke out into laughter, shaking his head. “-oh when we first started hanging out he could barely last thirty minutes in a room with me. I drained his social battery. But once we figured each other out, I’m the person who he spends the most time with. Until we figure each other out, we’re probably going to be insecure around each other for a bit of time. And since you’re adjusting to six people while we’re adjusting to one, you’re getting a bucket load of it. You’re still getting used to our mannerisms and text-” he waved his phone around. “-loses the important tones that hint to how we actually feel about things.”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk breathed, letting himself be eased. “Yeah you’re right. I’m sorry-”

“Aahbuh. No apologies. It isn’t necessary- huh?”

A call lit up the screen of his phone. Lil meow meow was the I.D. He muttered, “Speak of the devil” before answering it and putting it on speaker. He sidled up to Jeongguk, putting the phone between them. “Hey Yoongi-hyung, you’re on speaker By the way, work on your text tone! You upset Jeongguk-ah.”

He flushed, halfway in a protest before Yoongi’s voice rumbled over the speaker.

“...did I? I’m sorry, Jeongguk.” There wasn’t anything ingenuine. “Wasn’t my intent. Hmm wait, what did I even say?”

“Uhhh something about… oh yeah Jiminie said Jeongguk needs to be spoiled and you teased him about how he’s already made that clear.” He rolled his eyes. “Like texting his eomma about food to make sure Jin-hyung made something he liked for dinner wasn’t obvious enough.”

“Jimin did that?” Jeongguk asked faintly.

“Hobah… that was a secret.”

“Whoops.”

Yoongi sighed, but it was interlaced with a chuckle. “Believe it or not, there was a reason I called.”

“Hmm. What’s up?” He slung an arm around Jeongguk’s shoulder, grinning lopsided at him. “You’re cutting into my Jeonggukie time.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to cut into it a lot more. You know that song from two weeks ago? The one I was having trouble with?”

“The one you said I fixed with my rap and vocal skills?” he questioned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I thought we fixed it. But it’s missing something, Hobah. And if I don’t get it fixed by today…”

For a second, Hoseok’s weight fell heavier on him, his eyes bursting wide. He removed himself from Jeongguk’s side, swaying from side to side in agitation.

“Shit, hyung. The deadline for your album submission is today.”

“I know.” His voice grew muffled, as if he was running his hand over his face. “It’s been a morning.” Knowing something Jeongguk wasn’t privy to, Hoseok softened.

“Give me half an hour, hyung. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you, Hoseok. I’m really sorry Jeongguk. I didn’t mean to interrupt your time out-”

“It’s no problem at all,” Jeongguk immediately reassured, a bit bewildered. How could Yoongi apologize when it was because of his music? His literal job?

“I’ll make it up to you tonight with lamb skewers,” he promised before his voice quieted. “If I can get this stupid song to work.”

“Keep at it, Yoongi-hyung. See you soon.”

“See you, Seok.”

The call ended, and Hoseok burst into action. “I’ll drive you back to Jimin-ah’s. I’m sorry about this Jeongguk, but hyung has been working on this song for ages and it’s kinda the centerpiece of the entire album despite being the most problematic.”

Jeongguk easily kept pace with him, the two of them weaving through the crowd back to the parking Hoseok managed to acquire among the tight streets.

“Hoseok-hyung, as I told Yoongi-hyung, it’s completely alright. Why would I ever get upset about Agust D trying to release a new album?” He laughed at the notion, catching Hoseok’s amused smile. “Just the fact that I know another album is on the way makes me really excited-”

Hoseok stopped and whirled on him.

“You’re a fan, “ he said with a gasp.

“Uh. Yeah. We got that established last nig- ht?!”

He squealed as Hoseok took his hand, dragging him into a half jog. Bam wiggled forward with an tampered excited bark, rushing ahead enough to tug on the leash. Jeongguk tightened his grip on it.

“Hoseok-hyung-?”

“Better prepare your fanboy heart,” Hoseok crowed. “Because you’re about to see Agust D at work!”

Notes:

Got a little bit of Jikook fluff, a bit of Jeongguk angsting, and the beginnings of something else. Hehehehe

Tentative?? 35ish chapters with the way I'm going. Maybe 150k words?

Chapter 18

Notes:

Hey! Sorry that there wasn't a chapter last week. I explained a little on my twitter account, but I went on vacation to Wisconsin for a bit. I meant to have the chapter finished and ready to post before I left, but while thinking about what I had written I decided I needed to take the story in a different direction. Because of rewrites, I decided to put off posting until the regular Sunday. Thanks for understanding!

Hoseok didn’t work at HYBE, but when they stepped up to the building with Bam trotting happily between them, the security guards didn’t give him a second glance. Their gazes lingered on Jeongguk. Hoseok’s hand on his arm with a bright, “He’s with me” pulled their assessing gazes off of him. He thought they would find an issue with the dog, but no complaints were made.

He couldn’t help his wide eyed observance as they meandered through the steel floored halls. People bustled past holding papers, bags, equipment, and coffee. As they made their way to the elevators, Hoseok off-handedly gave him a verbal tour of the building. He pointed out the cafeteria, break rooms, studios, and practice rooms. It wasn’t until they were exiting the elevator that they were stopped again. The female employee paused and asked to pet Bam. It happened twice more, the third time by a man who greeted the doberman with a, “Hello, Bam. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you.”

He raised an eyebrow at Hoseok in question.

“Well, Jiminie couldn’t exactly leave him at home as a puppy,” he answered with a laugh. The employee laughed with him as he stood, an I.D badge flashing from its hanging place around his neck. They were the only ones in the hall at the moment. Standing on the 16th floor, things were far quieter than the lower levels.

“He was a menace in the practice rooms. Kept wanting to dance with everyone. I think he made it into a few videos.” He shook his head, aged face lined with a smile. Jeongguk filed away the nugget of information he’d received. He didn’t know Jimin worked with the same company Yoongi and Namjoon did. “You’re a new face. I don’t think I’ve seen you hanging around this lot before.”

He jerked a thumb at Hoseok, but his words encompassed a lot more. Jeongguk had a feeling it wasn’t foreign for the six friends to come visit each other. The red head certainly did it enough times for security to recognize him.

“I just got to know him,” he answered with a polite smile. Ducking his head respectfully, he introduced himself. “I’m Jeon Jeongguk.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jeongguk-ssi. I’m Son Sungdeuk.” His eyes crinkled at the corner, hinting that he liked to laugh a lot. “I take it you know Jimin too, since you’re walking around with his dog. Are you here to see him?”

“Nah, we’re here for Lil Meow Meow.” Hoseok slung an arm over Jeongguk’s shoulders, the touch comforting.

Sungdeuk shook his head with a snort. “No one has seen him ‘round the building today. You sure he’s here?”

“Album submission is today.”

“That explains it. I’m guessing he’s holed up in his studio.” He patted Bam’s head again, resulting in a wagging tail thumping against Jeongguk’s leg. “Well, good luck then. If you do end up wanting to visit Jimin, he’s in the basement. Second practice room.”

“Thanks Sungdeuk-hyung.”

“Oh, and Jeongguk-ssi?”

His eyes widened at the pointed address, finding Sungdeuk giving him a once over. He did a self conscious mental check of himself. When they’d gone back to Jimin’s apartment to pick up Bam he’d taken a quick shower so he wasn’t as gross as before, but he wasn’t as put together as he could have been. Exhaustion still bit at him from his late night.

Apparently, Sungdeuk saw none of that. “You should look into becoming an idol, Jeongguk-ssi. You’re very attractive.”

Hoseok burst into laughter. Jeongguk blinked several times before remembering himself.

“Ah, thank you. I don’t think I fit the idol life though… especially not with my kids badgering me for all my attention.”

He tilted his head in acknowledgement at the lifestyle that would stop Jeongguk from pursuing such a career. Shrugging, he smiled. “It was worth a shot. Having your hands full with fatherhood isn’t a bad deterrent though. I wish you the best.”

“Thank you.”

With that, the man disappeared around the corner. He watched him go, bewildered by the weird scouting offer.

“Ah, Taehyung called it.” Hoseok whipped at his mirthful eyes. He continued down the hall, Jeongguk unsticking his feet to hurry after him.

“Called what?”

“The fact that you’re a total DILF.”

He spluttered and choked through protests, entire face inflaming. Hoseok laughed again, and it continued like that when a door down the hall opened and a dark head of hair poked out. Yoongi raised two eyebrows at them, dark eyes lingering on Jeongguk before shifting to Hoseok.

“I could hear you both in the studio and those walls are supposed to be sound resistant.” Despite being wrapped up in a reprimand, it didn’t sound like one. Amusement took that place. “Why does Jeongguk look two seconds from bursting into flames and why are you trying to get a clown job?”

Hoseok calmed himself enough to fill him in. “Tell me, Yoongi-hyung. Is Jeongguk a DILF?”

“...what is that?”

That set the red head off again, his body leaning back as his voice overtook the silence of the hall. Jeongguk buried his face in his hands. Bam nudged his head against his leg in an innocent show of support. Good dog.

“It doesn’t matter.” Yoongi shook his head, hair falling into his eyes. He opened his door wider. “I’m completely beside myself with this, Hoseok. I don’t understand why it’s not working.”

He sobered up and slipped into the room. “Tell me what part is being weird…”

Jeongguk made to step after them, almost stumbling to a stop when Yoongi didn’t hold the door open for him. He caught himself the same time Jeongguk did, stopping the door from closing. Their eyes met again, tension shivering between them. It lasted only a second, but Jeongguk swore Yoongi’s eyes narrowed in distaste before his face scrunched into an apologetic grimace.

“Sorry.”

“No worries,” he brushed it off verbally, but internally he held onto it. He wasn’t sure what he did, but he was almost convinced at this point that Min Yoongi didn’t like him.

And he didn’t have the faintest idea as to why.

---

Sitting in Yoongi’s studio, he found it difficult to linger on his negative thoughts when he literally sat in the place where Agust D created magic. The studio was personalized, hinting at it being a private space. It’s size should have made him feel cramped, but it felt cozy instead. Jeongguk could sleep on the leather couch for days. Given that his back suffered from Jimin’s couch—no matter how nice it was—he refrained from doing so. He couldn’t sleep when Yoongi’s song—Agust D’s song—played from the speakers. The two artists listened with rapt attention while Jeongguk simply existed. Namjoon was apparently part of the project as well. The lyrics cut deep and were so spiteful that he could barely breathe. He didn’t dare speak when it was over, heart pounding in his chest. He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. Bam lay over his feet, at home in Yoongi’s space.

“Do you hear it?” Yoongi asked, desperate.

“I’d usually call you crazy, but yeah.” Hoseok sighed. “Something’s off.”

“I can’t figure out if it’s the end of your verse or the beginning of mine. I spent the last three hours rewriting lyrics to see if it was that, but nothing stuck.”

“I think it’s my flow.” He pushed off the back of Yoongi’s chair. “I’ve got a few ideas. Unlock the booth?”

“Already open.”

He watched Hoseok shuffle in, a paper clutched between his fingers. Memories of standing in a similar booth washed over him. He felt the press of headphones over his ears and the edge of the wind screen in his vision. Stronger than anything was his urge to put on his favorite playlist and sing his heart out, like he so often did at home. He missed dancing, but more than anything he missed singing. It wasn’t something he necessarily gave up—you couldn’t give up what came naturally—but he longed to return to the serious nature of it. Bringing a melody to life, harmonizing with himself, ad libbing sounds that joined a concourse…

Whether it was singing, dance, or art. Jeongguk loved to create. To infuse his soul into different things. He wasn’t a speaker in the way most people expected him to speak. No, he spoke through the hums of a song, the step of a dance, or the lines of a pencil.

Creator.

The descriptor burned bright in his mind, settling alongside father. He couldn’t help the broad grin from taking over his mouth. It seemed that he wasn’t finding himself necessarily. Just rediscovering the things he loved. It was a far less painful and daunting process than he thought it would be. It certainly showed Heejin—the longer he spent away from her the longer he felt like himself. Strange thought to have, given how broken he felt at the same time.

But he wasn’t going to think about Heejin right now. Not when he was still ticked at her. Looking back it had been unfair of him to push the conversation when she warned him that she didn’t have much time, but not getting a straight answer exacerbated things. He definitely wasn’t done with the conversation, especially not after the talk he had with Namjoon that morning. He would call her when it was the appropriate hour to do so. The older man was right, after all. He shouldn’t be doing this alone and there was a lot they had to talk through.

“Bored?”

The drawl pulled his eyes up to Yoongi. He flicked a couple of dials, glancing periodically up at Hoseok as he did so. Jeongguk’s fingers twisted Bam’s leash.

“No.” He pursued his lips. “Just thinking. It’s also been a while since I’ve been in a studio like this. The ones at college weren't as fancy. We didn’t have private recording booths.”

At that, Yoongi glanced over his shoulder, dark eyes assessing. “Did you ever do music?”

“Sort of,” he mumbled. “I’ve never done anything big or grand. Wrote a few songs for assignments but I mostly did covers. I learned a bit of that stuff-” he waved at the set up. “-but I’ve never been a producer or composer. Just a singer.”

“Do you sing, or do you sing?”

“I’d like to think that I can sing,” he enunciated it as Yoongi had, knowing the difference. “But I think that’s up to an expert like you to decide.”

His head tilted curiously, dark hair falling into his eyes. It was longer than he usually kept it. He didn’t know if it was a personal choice or something the stylists decided.

“I’ll play with you later,” he decided, voice tinged with something Jeongguk couldn’t name. He didn’t know if it was a promise or a threat. With how off-put he felt around him, his instincts screamed threat.

A muffled tapping on the small window peering into the booth startled both of them. On the other side, Hoseok raised his eyebrows at them.

“Are we doing this or what?” he shouted at them. Yoongi shook his head and hit the music.

---

Hearing Hoseok had talent was different from actively listening to him rapping and singing. The energy he displayed made Jeongguk’s breath catch with awe. The style was quite different from Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s, but fit incredibly well with the tone of the song. More than anything, he could see the man on stage as a fantastic performer. He didn’t know how long he sat there, listening to them go over different parts of his verse. They tried different things, not settling on one.  Yoongi got more agitated and nervous the longer they didn’t find the missing piece.

After thoroughly beating the dead horse, Yoongi shut off the music halfway through an attempt and rolled away from his desk. Inside the booth, Hoseok took off his headphones, teeth gnawing into his bottom lip. Guilt and worry shone clear on his face, the worry mirrored in Yoongi’s along with frustration.

“Take a break,” he ordered. “Grab some water and we’ll touch back on this in ten minutes. I’m going to take a walk.” He held out a hand to Jeongguk. “I’m taking Bam with me.”

There wasn’t any room for argument. Jeongguk wordlessly passed the leash. The rapper clipped it to the collar, ignoring Bam’s excited scrambling to his feet. He left, just barely not slamming the studio door. Jeongguk cringed anyway, glancing over to Hoseok in worry. He’d come out of the booth, sinking into the chair Yoongi vacated. Scrubbing his hands through his hair, he flashed a weary smile.

“This whole music business is a lot harder than I thought it would be,” he admitted with no shortage of insecurity. Jeongguk’s heart went out to him. He huffed out a laugh, shoulder’s drooping. “I’m starting to think I should just stick with dance and call it good. I can’t even help Yoongi-hyung with his work and he trusted me to be able to do this-”

“That’s nonsense,” Jeongguk cut in firmly.

“Jeongguk-”

“It’s not easy,” he agreed. He’d never gotten deep into it, but the preliminary roads he took were hard enough. “But you sound really good. Listening to you… it makes me excited to hear your mixtape.”

Hoseok’s expression was torn between his believed reality and hope. The look in his eyes reminded him of the time Heeseung brought him a drawing he’d done. The five-year-old had worked on it for a long time and nervously sought his dad’s approval. No matter how old someone got, validation was always needed.

“You’re talented, Hoseok-hyung,” he reassured. “This song might not be working out, but that doesn’t mean you’re not a good rapper or singer.”

He shifted in the chair, drawing into himself shyly. It was different from his steadfast confidence, but didn’t alarm him.

“Thank you, Jeongguk-ah. That means a lot.” They shared a smile before his expression grew serious. “Did you notice anything that I might change to make the song work?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, considering. He’d been thinking about it for a while now, but he didn’t want to interject with his thoughts. Yoongi hadn’t asked him to be there and he didn't want to backseat produce. He didn’t know if suggestions were appreciated. But Yoongi wasn't there and Hseok was asking.

“Well… you’ve been approaching your verse with a lot of anger and bitterness. It works well with the song, but I’m not sure it works well with you.”

Something sparked in Hoseok’s eyes. He leaned forward, physically signaling for him to continue. Jeongguk hoped he wasn’t reading too much into it.

“Since I’ve known you it seems like you’re a very laid-back and easy going guy. Not much bothers you or pushes you to anger. That isn’t to say that you don’t get angry, but you reserve it for the people who really deserve it.” Lost in his own evaluation, he didn’t notice the slack surprise on his face. “There’s something to be said for your confidence and how self-aware you are. I think… if you were going to go after someone it would be with smug indifference. There’s already elements of that in Namjoon-hyung’s and Yoongi-hyung’s verses. I think with them already being established artists you have something to prove. Maybe instead of making it sound like a fierce defense, it might hit harder for the listener if you portray confidence in reassurance that you’ll rise just as high as them in your music career.”

The end came out as a mumble of speaking more to himself than Hoseok. He shook himself out of it, the corner of his mouth quirking nervously. “That’s just what I was thinking. I’m not sure if-”

“I think that’s exactly what we’re missing,” Hoseok interjected excitedly. He spun around once in the chair before leaping to his feet. He tackled Jeongguk into a hug, nearly falling into the couch. Jeongguk steadied him the best he could, grin breaking free.

“Yeah?”

“Yes! I have so many ideas now.” He pulled away with a hop. “I need to go track down Yoongi-hyung.”

Jeongguk got to his feet, wincing at the ache that had settled in his bones from sitting so long. He’d been surprised he wasn’t sore this morning from the dancing he did yesterday, but it seemed it was simply delayed. Thinking of dancing reminded him of Jimin, and he flipped over a thought before deciding to go with it.

“Before finding him… do you think you could take me down to the practice rooms?” He smoothed down the hem of his shirt. “I feel like I’m distracting you both.”

Hoseok caught on quickly, a smirk spreading across his mouth. “So you’re going to distract Jiminie instead?”

“Well, no,” he stuttered, feeling warm. “He’s used to people watching him dance, right? So I’m just another audience member.”

“I think you know it’s a bit different when you’re still putting together a piece. Though, I don’t know what he’s working on right now.” 

Despite his argument, he headed towards the door. Jeongguk hurried after him, smiling with gratitude. Truthfully, he was feeling quite drained. The events from that morning and afternoon paired with his exhaustion meant he was ready to go to sleep early. He craved a bit of familiarity, and Jimin was the most familiar person to him at the moment. He knew it was selfish of him to take up so much of his time, but Jimin never seemed bothered by the clinginess. In fact, he almost seemed pleased by it. Had been from the beginning. 

Until Jimin pushed him away, Jeongguk figured it was alright to stay by him.

---

Maybe he shouldn’t be so impressed by a building, but HYBE had all the amenities he could think of needing as a musician. Not all companies took good care of their employees, but Jeongguk could tell the people were treated well here. There were plenty of windows, plants, and cozy furniture. He imagined himself being able to curl up in one of the arm chairs with his pencils and sketchbooks.

He wasn’t well versed in the technical side of it, but he could tell the cameras and recorders were high end. It looked professional, and honestly, that was enough for him.

After passing a group of girls that Jeongguk was sure were trainee’s, Hoseok led him down another floor to the practice rooms. Although very muffled, he could hear the faintest sound of bass coming from two of the rooms. The third was silent, which was the one the red head led him to. After opening the door, however, he knew it wasn’t quiet at all. Or empty.

Hoseok pressed a finger to his mouth in a sign to keep quiet as they edged into the room. At the center was Jimin, who was right in the middle of a complicated looking choreography. There were no lyrics accompanying the haunting melody, but he could clearly pick up on the emotions it meant to portray.

Even though he’d seen it before, he still watched in awe. Jimin was a beautiful dancer, no matter what type he did. Jeongguk attributed it to his base in contemporary.

He blinked in surprise when Hoseok stepped forward, slipping off his jacket. Tossing it to the side, with two large strides he slid in next to Jimin right in step. Seeing him in the mirror, a grin split his mouth, showing off his crooked tooth. As fast as it came, it disappeared into focused concentration as both of them stepped into hard lines of power and control.

They must have stepped in at the beginning, because the duo’s dance lasted a while. Jeongguk’s eyes flickered from their reflections to the real deal. He caught Hoseok’s eye as he did a body roll, smirking as he winked. Jeongguk huffed out a laugh only for it to suck away as he caught the tail end of Jimin's. He didn't dwell on it as the two dancers spun and tipped, one hand catching the fall. Switching arms, they twirled back up.

His mind conjured a story through their movements. Innocence meeting temptation. Experiencing dark desire. Falling into the depths of it and being unable to escape.

Eventually, the music trickled away, exerted breaths taking its place. Hoseok laughed in the silence, clasping Jimin’s hands and pulling him into a hug despite the sweat their bodies had worked up. Jimin sank into it with a sway and a smile, one hand brushing back sweaty brown hair.

“Not that I’m unhappy to see you, but what are you both doing here?” He directed the question at Jeongguk through his stare. Jeongguk could only shrug. Raising an eyebrow at the response, Jimin smirked. “Did you miss me or something?”

Yes, his mind provided. Startling, but true. A little pathetic since he sat him late that morning.

“I always miss you, Jiminie.” Hoseok cooed, nuzzling into his hair. Jimin leaned into the touch, biting his lip to hide his smile. He didn’t succeed, since his eyes bunched into crescents. “And you’ve been practicing! Did you still want to do it with a blindfold?”

A note of surprise escaped him, thankfully quiet enough to not draw attention. Jimin nodded, expression pinching into seriousness.

“I think within the next week I’ll be confident enough in the routine to stay in sync with you.” He glanced at Jeongguk. “I’m collabing with Hobi-hyung to perform at a dance camp in August. We were both invited to be instructors.”

“I think they mentioned something about filming it this year?”

“I sure hope not. I’ve already made more than enough appearances behind the scenes.” He rolled his eyes at the idea, pulling away from the other dancer. He crossed the room to unplug his phone, which hadn’t played another song. “I was just about to take a break. It’s a little early for dinner but if you two are hungry we could go get something.”

“Yoongi-hyung’s actually the reason we’re here,” Hoseok explained with a frown. “He needed me to re-record. We’ve been here since two… I don’t think it’s too early for dinner though, Jiminie.”

He looked down at his phone, eyebrows rising at the time presented to him. Jeongguk knew it was around five, encroaching on six. Which… wasn’t Jimin supposed to be done with work by now? As if he heard his thoughts, Jimin ran a hand through his hair again, sheepish.

“I lost track of time?”

“Jiminie,” he scolded. “You’re lucky we were already here. Or Jeongguk would have been sitting all alone in your apartment, abandoned and forgotten. Or worse, you’d end up working until it’s too late to eat. Did you work through lunch?”

Jimin, who had visibly been preparing an argument, faltered at the question. His darting eyes was the answer both of them needed. He sighed, shoulder’s sagging.

“I didn’t mean to,” he grumbled feebly. “I was working on something and then got distracted with the-”

“Uhbuh,” Hoseok shushed him. “No more excuses. Just go with Jeongguk and get something to eat and bring back food for Yoongi-hyung and I. We’re still working and he’s as bad as you when it comes to keeping himself alive. So you’ll have to bring the food to him.”

“Yes, Hobi-hyung,” Jimin agreed, amused. He pocketed his phone, brushing shoulders with Jeongguk as he headed towards his bag. He pulled out a fresh shirt, sparing a single glance at the door before unceremoniously stripping out of his current one. Jeongguk tore his eyes away, rolling them up to the ceiling. He chastised himself for it. Why was he being so weird about this? He’d seen plenty of shirtless guys, often being shirtless himself. Seeing Jimin in a state of undress shouldn’t make his skin prickle with discomfort.

“Ooooh Jiminie,” Hoseok crooned. “Looking good~!”

Laughter. “Shut up, hyung.”

“Hmm. If I wasn’t straight…”

Jimin’s response was muffled, and Jeongguk figured it was safe to look now. Jimin smoothed out his hair, shoving the other shirt back in the back. With a decisive zip, the bag closed and he hefted it over his shoulder.

“Even if you weren’t straight I wouldn’t date you, Hobi-hyung.” Jimin flashed a charming grin. “You’re not my type.”

But I am.

“Hey, I know I’m no Yoongi-hyung-” in the midst of pushing away his own thoughts, his entire mind came screeching to a halt. “-but I’d make a great boyfriend.”

“I’m not saying you wouldn’t. You just aren’t my type. We’ve been over this, hyung.” He made for the door, pausing to shut off the lights. It forced Jeongguk to move, and he tailed after Jimin feeling lost. He couldn’t be certain, but it sounded like Jimin and Yoongi had been—or were—involved. Romantically. Or maybe one of them had a crush on the other? It could just be that Jimin recognized Yoongi as his type but they’d never gotten together.

The memory of Jimin and Yoongi in the kitchen flashed across his mind. The innocent platonic touch between friends became twisted into something far more intimate. Maybe it wasn’t because of Jimin’s casualness with physical touch. Jeongguk’s instincts told him that there was something more there. He’d ignored the signs he’d gotten before, so he couldn’t set this one aside. But how could he ask? He couldn’t just come out and say it.

“I know Hyung planned on getting lamb skewers from that one place in Itaewon. Wasn’t Jin-hyung supposed to come too?”

“He got caught up in a last minute shoot. I thought he texted the group chat about it. Namjoon is going to bring dinner to him and Tae is stuck on that promotional show tonight. It’s just us four.”

“Hmm okay. I’ll pick up enough for all of us and bring it…” he trailed off in a yawn, hiding it with his fist. Jeongguk fought the urge to copy him while Hoseok snickered.

“Didn’t have time for a nap?”

“Shut up, Hyung.” He shoved playfully at his shoulder, receiving a tap back. The small sliver of being forgotten instantly slipped away when Jimin spun on his heel, walking backwards to look straight at him with a smile. “What do you say, Jeongguk-ah? Lamb skewers for dinner?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever say no to that,” he answered with a chuckle. Seeing Jimin smile, he set aside the questions he had about him and Yoongi. It wasn’t any of his business, even if the implications tugged at him in an off-settling way. So what if they might have been together at one point? They weren’t now. Jimin told his parents almost a week ago that he didn’t have anyone special in his life. Jimin was free and single which was-

Well. It didn’t matter to Jeongguk, did it?

Notes:

Hehehehe. Jeongguk is starting to question some things.

 

I almost has chapter 19 written too... and even though it was actually cracked writing, once again it wasn't the direction I wanted to go yet. It's crazy how often that's happening with this.

Chapter 19

Notes:

I. am. tired. Worked through the night to get this finished. Took me a LOT longer than I was expecting. (then again, I wasted a perfectly good afternoon of writing on Stardew Valley soooooo my own fault XD )

ALSO THIS IS LONNNG. I think this is the longest chapter to date!

CW: active discussion about characters sex life, or rather, the lack of it. It's very tame but I thought I'd put the warning out there.

It took only three yawns from Jeongguk in the span of two minutes for Jimin to cut their fine dining short. Not that he could call the four of them cramped in Yoongi’s studio fine dining. All he knew was that lamb skewers were the best culinary creation alongside banana milk. He ate three sticks by himself, accepting a fourth from an amused Yoongi. Jeongguk decided to look at it as an olive branch; he truly wasn’t sure if Yoongi was hiding his dislike for him or that was simply who he was. He wanted to believe what Hoseok said earlier, but he kept getting this feeling that he couldn’t set aside.

Regardless of his wariness, he had a good time and felt satisfied as he locked the door behind Jimin. The older man smiled at him as he set his keys on the hook near the lights. His expression edged with exhaustion. He couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty now that Jimin could finally get some rest.

“How was today?” he asked, leaning against the bathroom door as Jeongguk finished tapping in the new skin care solution Hoseok insisted he get. (He said his skin was great, but this would make it better.)

“It was good.” He twisted the tap, rubbing the residue off his fingers. He watched Jimin in the mirror. “Hoseok-hyung is a lot of fun to be around. Seeing Yoongi-hyung work in his studio also fulfilled dreams I didn’t think I had, so…”

Jimin laughed, shaking his head as he leaned heavier against the frame. Already changed into an oversized shirt and soft looking sweats, Jeongguk felt warm and sleepy just looking at him. He continued with a smile of his own. “Hearing the three of you reminisce made you all sound old, but it’s really amusing to listen to. I mean, who would have thought Namjoon-hyung is head over heel for crabs?”

“Or that Jin-hyung brought him a crab because of it?”

They both chuckled at that. Jeongguk turned off the water, thanking Jimin as he handed him a towel.

“When you see someone you love doing something they love it’s difficult to not want to support them in that,” he mused, setting the towel back. He leaned against the counter, thoughtful. “I’ve only seen them interact with each other once, but it’s clear that they love each other. It kinda hurts to watch. Not that it’s bad, but rather-”

“Makes you want what they have,” Jimin interjected quietly; he nodded along. The wistfulness didn’t go unnoticed. In the small space, it would be far too easy for Jeongguk to take his hand or hug him, to offer some sort of physical reassurance. He half stretched out a foot to tap against his when Jimin pushed off the wall. “Are you finished here?”

“Almost, sorry.” He grabbed his toothbrush in explanation, apologetic while Jimin rolled his eyes. Unbothered by him hogging the bathroom, he reached past him to grab his own. Humorously, he sat cross legged at the edge of the tub, unperturbed about sharing the space. Jeongguk didn’t care either, fighting a stupid laugh as he began brushing his own teeth. Jimin finished before him, washing out his mouth and leaving with a bright, “Goodnight, Jeongguk!” that he returned in a garble.

He just barely finished up when his phone began ringing, showcasing his father’s contact. Lighting up, he grabbed it with a grin. Seeing Jungwon’s smile chased away every single physical ailment he suffered from.

“Jungwonie,” he cooed. His son babbled happily at the camera, overjoyed at seeing and hearing his father. Jeongguk got nearly crushed by how much he missed his kids. It had been over twenty-four hours since he talked with them despite his mother keeping him updated with a plethora of pictures. “How are you sweetpea?”

Jungwon predictably didn't answer well, but his exuberant, “Da!” was enough for Jeongguk. He wasn’t a talker, so everytime he got something from him his heart swelled to an alarming size.

“He’s doing well,” his dad answered with a chuckle, moving the phone. Jeongguk could now see his son sitting on his dad’s lap. Both reclined against a couch. “Got in the water today. Sorry we didn’t capture it on camera for you.”

“That’s okay. Where’s Heeseung?”

“Went down to the convenience store with Junghee. He was complaining about a stomach ache, but still ate all his dinner so your mom wanted to treat him to some ice cream.” Jeongho bounced Jungwon, making him giggle. “What do you know? He says his stomach ache ‘disappeared’ at the prospect.”

Despite laughing, worry trickled through him. “I’m glad. Do you have some medicine with you just in case-?”

“Your mom thought the same thing. They’re also getting that. They should be back soon. How is staying with Jimin?”

“Great.” He grinned. “I’ve met his friends and they’re all really good people.”

“He and his friends are good kids, that’s for sure.”

He couldn’t help the huff of laughter. “Dad, we’re all adults.”

“Still kids to me. You’ll stop being a kid when you grow older than me.” He winked. Another bubble of laughter escaped him, but toned down when his dad spoke again, serious. “...I’m really glad that Jimin is there with you right now. Your eomma and I were worried about leaving you alone.”

“I am too,” he admitted quietly, escaping the cover of the bathroom. He retreated to his couch, bemused to find he’d left his socks under the coffee table. It had been far too easy to get comfortable in Jimin’s apartment. “Glad that he’s here, that is. He’s… he’s helped a lot, appa.”

Jeongguk didn’t want to think about how he’d be faring by himself. This entire trip was supposed to be about space and thinking, but he knew he’d go mad if he had more time to think than he already did. Jimin provided a distraction as someone to talk to and his friends had jumped on the train of filling Jeongguk’s empty days. He never would have had that if he backed out of it. Getting the chance to spend time with him… Jeongguk wouldn’t trade it away.

“Have you told him?”

He stilled his rearrangement of the pillows. One fell limply back to the couch as he pinned his father with an incredulous stare.

“Why would I tell him?”

Jeongho raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but I got the impression you and Jimin were close. I’m not saying that equates to sharing this particular… situation, but I’ve never seen you attach to someone as quickly as you did to him.”

He wasn’t wrong. Jimin sat on the throne Jeongguk reserved for best friend before he knew it. In any other circumstance, Jeongguk was sure he would have spilled his woes to him in a heartbeat. Last night he almost did.

“I can’t, dad,” he whispered, hoping he didn’t press. It occurred to him, just then, that his parents had no idea Jimin harbored feelings for him. Was that something he should tell them? It didn’t seem right for him to share that. If he did, would his dad still be alright with Jeongguk staying with him? That thought alarmed him—why would his dad knowing affect his decision to stay with Jimin? They weren’t doing anything wrong.

“I respect that. And I wasn’t insisting that you do. I simply wanted to know if you had told him.” As he shook his head, his dad tilted his. “Speaking of telling people, your brother called the other day. Have you talked to him about this at all?”

Jeongguk winced. Junghyun definitely wouldn’t be happy about not being in the loop of what was going on. The two of them were terrible at staying in contact with each other, calling or texting every few months or so when their parents reminded them.

“Uhm, about that-”

“Oh for goodness sake. Put a reminder on your phone or something! I swear you two were inseparable as kids but now you seem to forget the other exists all the time.” He shook his head in exasperation, opening his mouth to continue but got cut off by another voice filtering in through the phone. Jeongguk’s mother had returned. His grin returned as his dad called his other son over and relinquished the phone.

“DADDY!” he screamed. The phone shook as he supposedly bounced up and down. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Stomach ache. Yeah right. Heeseung had enough energy to spread to the whole family. “Dad, dad, dad guess what we did today! We went to the beach again, but this time harabeoji was with us and he taught me how to-” he cut himself off with a gasp and began moving his head around, as if trying to peer around the constraints of the picture provided to him. “Where’s Uncle?”

“Uncle went to bed already,” Jeongguk answered, bemused. Saying it reminded him that he probably needed to be quieter. Maybe put in some earbuds too- “Aww buddy, why are you making that face?”

His son had pulled out the full pout, twisting his heart. “I wanna tell him too.”

“I’m sure you can tell him tomorrow-”

“But daaaad! I wanna tell him noooow!”

“Heeseung, when you want something, what do you say?” Junghee scolded. Heeseung’s bottom lip jut out further as he widened his eyes. Jeongguk fought to look away because that was the face he could never say no to. If he didn’t know any better his mother had taught his son to weaponize it.

“Dad, can you please go wake up Uncle Jiminie? It’s not even my bedtime!”

True. It wasn’t even nine yet. He couldn’t explain to him that he and Jimin had stayed up all night watching movies. He tried not to share bad behaviors with his children. But he didn’t want to wake Jimin up just so his son could tell him a few stories. But that look-

“I will go see if his light is on-” he got cut off by Heeseung’s cheers and fought to get his attention again. “-but! Heeseung come on, listen. If his light is off then you have to let him sleep, okay?”

“Okay!”

It was too easy of a surrender, but Jeongguk would take it. He forced himself off the couch, fighting a wince because wow there was the soreness he’d been missing since he forced his body overboard yesterday. No doubt it’d be worse tomorrow.

Entering the hall, he noticed Jimin’s door was closed. That was a sign not to bother the man, but peeking at the space between the floor and the door, a light was still on. Sneakily, he muted himself and turned off the camera, ignoring Heeseung’s immediate protests. He would ask Jimin first if he wanted to be included before tossing him to the mercy of Heeseung’s demands.

“Jimin-hyung?” he called, knocking on the door with a mix of softness and firmness. He strained his ears, turning down Heeseung’s complaints to try and hear over them. He caught the tail end of Jimin’s response, hoping the in he heard was a come in.

“What’s up?” Jimin immediately greeted as Jeongguk opened the door. He sat in bed, covers tucked around his waist. The bedside light glowed. A book rested on his drawn up thighs, a pair of glasses perched on his nose.

“You wear glasses?” was the first thing out of his mouth, coupled with a very manly—very much not—squeak. Startled by the question, his fingers fluttered up to touch the frames. His cheeks went pink as he removed them. Jeongguk wanted him to put them back on. Jimin with glasses was cute.

“Not usually,” he hurried to say. “But my eyes are tired and I already took out my contacts…” He lifted his book to cover his ever reddening face. “Please don’t tease me about them.”

“I won’t! I wear glasses too. Erm. Blue light ones so I don’t actually have a prescription but-”

“Jeongguk, deer, are you still there?”

He snapped back down to the phone, halfway through an answer before he remembered he muted himself. “Give me a moment, Eomma.”

“Your parents?” Jimin asked, whispering. He caught onto the need to be quiet.

“Yes. Boys too. Uhm. Heeseung wanted to tell you about his day too but I told him you’d already turned in, but he made me come ask anyway…” Seeing the light blossom over his face became the only answer Jeongguk needed. Every odd emotion he felt got packed away, letting pure fondness take its place. “Mind if we talk in here?”

“Yes please,” he giggled, patting the space next to him in invitation. “I’m rather comfortable and don’t want to move.”

The mattress sank underneath him as he crawled onto the bed, sitting so their shoulders were pressed together. They needed to sit close so the camera could catch both of them. Hearing Heeseung’s delighted “HI UNCLE JIMINIE!” was worth everything. Especially when he saw the pure adoration mirrored on Jimin’s face.

His heart squeezed in his chest. Jimin loved his boys. He loved them so much. There wasn’t any way he could hide it. The fact that he loved them just as much as Jeongguk did—only knowing them for a week and a half, might he add—caused rocks to stack in his throat as emotion overtook him. It nearly overwhelmed him, but it wasn’t… bad.

At that moment, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else with anyone else.

---

He didn’t know how long it took his brain to register the sharp bzzt bzzt bzzt as a phone call. He lifted a hand to pat the space around him for the cell, eyes stuck shut with sleepiness. His fingers brushed over soft linens, bruising against the sharp edge of a table before he found the device. The buzzing stopped by the time he reached it, which was a bit difficult to do since there was a weight against his chest, shoulder, and arm, leaving his left side numb. Not caring about his phone now that the noise stopped, he pulled his arm back to shove it under his pillow. Rolling to the side, he snuggled back into the heat radiating from his side.

Muffled buzzing interrupted his sleep again, and this time he was faster to grope for the device. Having always set it to dark mode, it thankfully didn’t blind him when he cracked open an eye to look at it.

Heejin.

As his heart jolted, he was wide awake and now very aware of his surroundings.

He wasn’t on the couch in Jimin’s living room. He lay on top of the sheets of Jimin’s bed, the man himself tucked against his side. Jeongguk had an arm around his back, keeping him pressed against him. Pure shock pinned him in place, even if he could move. How did this happen? Jimin made it clear that they couldn’t share the bed again, yet there he was, sleeping in his room curled against him like Jimin was his teddy bear. How did he even get into Jimin’s room-?

Aided by consciousness, the memories of last night filtered through. Heeseung and his stories. Jimin sinking lower and lower, eyelashes fluttering. Jeongguk watching him through the camera, catching the tilt of his head to his shoulder before he caught himself. It happening twice more before Jeongguk sneaked a hand around his back to not-so-subtly nudge him closer. It’s okay, he had whispered, catching Jimin’s worried lip bite. Not like we haven’t done this before. He remembered his own eyes growing heavy, yawning in time with his son. His mom had taken the phone then, urging him to the bathroom where his dad had been giving Jungwon a bath. Jimin fell asleep at that point, slumped against Jeongguk’s side. He bid his mom goodnight, then his dad. Fuzzily, he recalled tucking Jimin in, turning off the light, and waiting a few minutes to make sure he was asleep. Then… he must have fallen asleep too. A complete accident.

His phone continued to buzz. Jeongguk silenced it, squinting in the low light to see if there was any chance of escaping Jimin’s grasp this time. It had been impossible before, but he’d been underneath the sheets with him. They weren’t as intertwined as before. Jeongguk was the one initiating the most contact by having an arm wrapped around him. Except, Jimin’s fingers were curled into his shirt. He would have to wake him up now, if the previous time this happened taught him anything. He had a death grip like no other when he was asleep. Though, maybe Jeongguk could just weasel out of his shirt instead…?

He wrote it off as a bad idea when he imagined Jimin’s reaction to waking up with Jeongguk’s shirt clutched in his fingers with him nowhere in sight.

His phone started buzzing again. Heejin’s persistence of trying to get a hold of him at… six in the morning bothered him to no avail. What could she possibly need to talk to him about right now? Especially when she was the one who put them on bad terms after their last conversation. Being as stubborn as he was, she probably would have waited until Jeongguk broke and called her—unless there was something wrong. That alarmed him.

“Jimin, hey, Jimin-hyung.” He shook at his shoulder, already peeling his arm away from underneath him. It didn’t take long for Jimin’s eyelashes to flutter and a low groan to press past his lips. The hand not attached to his shirt weakly pushed at Jeongguk’s on his shoulder. A non-verbal, go away. He fought not to laugh. “Jimin, I need you to let go of my shirt so I can move.”

“‘S ‘d ‘dea.”

Jeongguk had no clue what he said. “Hyung, come on. If I could get out without bothering you, I would, but you’ve got stupidly strong fingers-”

“Shhhh.”

“Did you just shush me in your sleep? How do you even have that ability-? You know what.” He sighed heavily. “Fine.”

Thinking back on it, he didn’t know why he ever thought this would be a good idea. But at the moment, the only plausible solution to get out of his clutches was to tickle him. It wasn’t difficult to find a spot that worked—the sides were near universal. Within moments, Jimin gasped, eyes flying open. Jeongguk wasn’t prepared at all for the knee that slammed into his stomach. Air disappeared. His body curled with a yelp, joined by another as their heads knocked. Both groaning, Jeongguk barely registered the thump of Jimin’s head falling to his chest.

“We’ve got to stop doing this,” he ground out, rubbing his cheekbone. The unfortunate place Jimin hit his forehead. His voice must’ve startled him, because another spot of pain blossomed as the crown of his head connected with his chin. There wasn’t a chance of stopping his heavy swearing or the unconscious rolling over of his body.

“Jeongguk, what the hell,” Jimin hissed. He forced himself to his elbows, glaring down at the brunette. “What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t mean to, but-”

Jimin pushed at his shoulder, prompting him to sit up and lean back. One leg was caught between Jeongguk’s, a mirror of the last time they ended up in a compromising position.

“I told you we couldn’t-”

“Jeez, I know!” he snapped, unaware of why he rose to frustration at Jimin’s panicked complaint. “I fell asleep. I wasn’t even underneath the sheets!”

“Why didn’t you leave when you woke up? Instead you-”

“You had me trapped in another one of your death grips!” He ran a hand through his hair, annoyed. He didn’t know why Jimin was being so prissy. It was a genuine accident. “It’s not my fault your subconscious wants me here-!”

He sealed his lips together hard enough to bruise. Jimin’s stricken expression read hurt, surprise, and guilt, plain as day. Jeongguk was the absolute worst.

“Jimin, I didn’t-”

The well of words dried up as his phone picked that time to start buzzing again. In their slight tussle it landed screen up, broadcasting Heejin to anyone that looked. Jeongguk only glanced, heart sinking as he peeled his eyes back up to see Jimin staring blankly down at the phone. He closed his eyes.

“You should answer that.”

“Jimin-”

He flopped back onto his pillow, rolling his back to Jeongguk and tugging the covers up to his shoulders. A clear sign of leave me alone. Jeongguk knelt there, torn on what to do. He wanted to stay and apologize, but at the same time his wife had called repeatedly over the span of who knows how many minutes. That deserved his immediate attention yet…

Not quite knowing what he was doing, put a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. He could feel him tense under the touch, so he kept it brief.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “That wasn’t fair of me to say. I’m going to answer this, but as soon as I’m done you’re going to tell me the best way to apologize to you. I’m really sorry.”

He lifted his hand and eased off the bed. He made it to the door before Jimin’s voice rose from his curled frame.

“Let me sleep for another two hours and by then I’ll have probably forgiven you. Hopefully by then you’ll have forgiven me too.”

“But you didn’t-”

Jimin rolled over and lifted his head just enough to meet his eyes. He lifted a tired eyebrow. “It takes two to argue, Jeongguk. I flipped out over something out of your control.”

“But I could have-”

“Jeongguk,” Jimin huffed, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Go call your wife and let me sleep.”

They were okay. Just like that, Jeongguk knew they would be fine. They’d talk about it, be open and honest with each other and have a stronger relationship afterwards. Ever since he met him, it was always like that. Jeongguk didn’t fear conflict with him.

He left the room with a smile and niggling feeling in the back of his brain.

---

Among the eleven missed calls, there were twenty-three messages. Jeongguk didn’t read them, but the latest flashed on his screen read, don’t ignore me forever, please. We need to talk.

His initial concerns about it being an emergency trickled away, leaving behind irritation. For what reason did she have to spam his phone this early? The temptation to ignore her prickled at him before he set it aside. He ran over Namjoon’s advice in his head. They needed to work through this together.

As the phone rang, he tried to build his headspace into one worthy of conversation.

Calm. Communicate. Look at both sides. Don’t get mad-

The line clicked with a nearly inaudible, “Hey.”

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Hey,” he murmured. “You called a lot. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.” Her clipped words made him chant, calm, stay calm, in his head. “I didn’t think you’d start sleeping in without the boys.”

He raised an eyebrow that she couldn’t see, sinking into the couch. Feeling those cushions on his back after spending the night in an actual bed was a little torturous.

“Heejin, it’s only six here.”

For a long moment, silence was the only speaker. Then Heejin sighed. It was her now-I-feel-stupid sigh. “I thought it was like, nine or ten.”

She doesn’t even know the time difference between us right now. The thought made him sad.

“So that’s why you were spamming my phone? To try and wake me up after you thought I was being lazy?” He tried to make it teasing, but it fell flat. Heejin found the humor in it anyway, snorting.

“A little yeah. But then I thought you were just ignoring me and… well. We need to talk.” Jeongguk kept his mouth shut. She didn’t need further prompting. “I’m sorry about the other morning. I felt cornered and attacked, but I shouldn’t have hung up on you.”

He sank further into the couch, crossing his arms. He focused in on the tv, catching his own distorted reflection.

“I picked a bad time to ask questions,” he admitted, his own semblance of apology. Hesitating, he allowed a brief pause before sliding in truth. “But I needed the answers to those questions.”

“I’m ready to answer them now. As long as you don’t mind the crunch of cereal in your ear.”

It didn’t make him laugh, but a smile twitched onto his mouth. He could see her in their kitchen, tank top and shorts—or no shorts at all, depending how hot it was—sitting at the table with a disgusting bowl of Raisin Bran. She had zero taste in cereal.

“Is the milk still good?”

“To be honest I didn’t check.” He knew she had taken a bite when crackling came over the phone. He pulled it away, cringing. He wished she was joking when she made the cereal comment, but apparently not. “Hmm. That’s definitely expired. Toast it is.”

He shook his head. Silence followed her words. The faint sounds of her moving through the kitchen filtered through, acting as white noise to his measured breathing. It held when she sighed.

“Most of the time it was work.” It didn’t take long for him to know what she referenced. “But… when we started having those fights about time with the kids I stopped overtime completely.”

His eyes squeezed shut. Their compromise had been that once she clocked out, she was done. Two to three days out of the week she’d text him saying she was doing overtime at the building. Two to three days, she was with Yugyeom.

“How did it start?” He didn’t know where his sudden bravery came from. He certainly didn’t feel it.

“At first we were just friends, you know?” she began after a moment of contemplation. “We kept running into each other on our lunch breaks outside our companies. After the fifth or sixth time he just randomly asked me to be his lunch break buddy.”

He hated the fondness in her voice. It was tainted by sorrow, but he didn’t know whether it was sorrow for hurting him or sorrow of knowing that those times were over.

“We exchanged numbers and kept having lunch together. It turned into coffee in the mornings and we got drinks after we got off work a few times. I—I thought it was innocent, and yeah I felt guilty sometimes when I got home late without letting you know I’d be out later, but you never asked so I didn’t think it was bad.”

Oh, so it’s my fault? He wanted to snap. He grit his teeth instead, begging for patience. He knew if he interrupted now he’d never get the whole story.

“One night…” she sucked in a deep breath. “We both drank a little too much. I-He kissed me and I just… I honestly don’t know what I was thinking. I barely remember it.”

It was startling, how fast the memory came to him. He faintly recalled the taxi pulling up outside their house. He’d paid the fare and helped her inside. The night before he remembered very little, but he remembered the argument they had the morning after. The words hissed through their teeth as she nursed a hangover. Heejin wasn’t a big drinker. It was a social thing for her. Even then she typically didn’t unless Jeongguk was with her. Alcohol had become more and more absent in their life as Heeseung got older and Jungwon was born. He wondered if that was the first indication to him that something was wrong.

“When we talked about it we knew it was a mistake made under the influence, but then… he admitted to having feelings for me and wanting to pursue a relationship. The entire time I thought he knew that I was married but I realized I never wore my ring around him. I put it on a necklace at work-”

“-because it kept getting caught in the filing drawers when you closed them,” Jeongguk finished for her, weak voiced. She’d come home enough times without her ring on her finger for him to notice. He’d been the one to buy her the thin gold chain, pouting about not having it visibly known that Heejin was off-limits. Too many people had flirted with girlfriend-then-wife for him to not want to stupidly wave a flag and say she’s got me! She’s good! Turns out it didn’t make a difference. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

He couldn’t forget the broken, horrified rasp of she’s married? he heard nearly three weeks ago. It occurred to him that out of everyone that knew, Yugyeom understood what he felt best. They were connected through the bitter pain of betrayal and lies. He couldn’t be angry with him. Aside from the initial call, he doesn’t think he ever was.

“I… I don’t know,” she whispered. “I know that’s not good enough, but I just- I don’t. Hell, I don’t even know how it continued. The only time I thought about it being so wrong was whenever we—well.” She shied away from it, but Jenogguk wouldn’t.

“Only when having sex?” he scoffed, the hold on his anger slipping. “Or could you close your eyes and pretend you weren’t cheating on your husband?”

“Jeongguk, please.”

“I’m saying it how it is, Heejin,” he snapped, careful to keep his voice quiet.

“I don’t understand.” Her voice rose. “You were calm and understanding when this mess first started! Why are you always snapping and yelling at me now? I thought you cared-”

“I don’t know, Heejin,” he interrupted. “Maybe because the shock wore off? Maybe because I’m no longer in denial and it finally got through my head that you cheated on me for an entire year? I’m allowed to be angry about this! I’m allowed to have feelings just like anyone else-” He cut himself off, seething. 

In the back of his mind he knew why he wasn’t holding back. It was because he couldn’t see her. He couldn’t watch the expressions on her face or read the hurt in her body language. Lack of sight and distance made it easy for him to focus on his own emotions. 

“Forget it. I get the point. You only felt guilty when you were sleeping with him.” He scoffed bitterly. “I guess that’s points to me for being better in bed.”

“At least he wanted to be in bed with me.” 

He almost didn't catch the mumbled response, but it snapped any restraint he had left.

“At least he wanted to- what are you talking about?! When did I ever not want to have sex with you?” Yes, the past couple of months had been physically odd between them, but he never turned her down until recently. “The only time I ever denied you was when I found out!”

“Yeah, you denied me. You stopped initiating! Do you realize that while we were dating you couldn’t keep your hands off of me? For months after we got married we burned half a paycheck on birth control and condoms and-”

“Part of this was because we weren’t having enough sex?” he asked, completely tilted. “Because we were both exhausted after having to get up in the middle of the night for diaper changes, feedings, and nightmares? Have you lost your mind?”

“Oh yes, forgive me for finding sexual intimacy to be an indicator that someone actually gives a damn about me-”

“And you didn’t think to talk to me about this?! Instead of seeking someone else-”

“Like you would have listened-”

It became very, very clear to him that the core of their relationship problems came from Heejin not talking to him. She never told him anything. When he worked his butt off to try and talk with her and get to the root of the problem she avoided, shifted the blame, and ignored him. Was he perfect? Absolutely not. But at least he tried.

He’d been trying for so long.

“I have ALWAYS listened!”

He knew, right then and there, that he had been too loud. The yelled words bounced off the walls, echoing in the hallway. It hurt, yelling that loud. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He was so pissed.

“I can’t do this right now.” He tore a hand through his hair, shaking with rage. “It’s my turn to hang up. What the absolute hell-”

“Jeongguk don’t you dare-”

He ignored her, lowering his phone and jabbing the red button hard enough to strain his finger. His blood boiled to a temperature he knew wasn’t safe. When her name flashed across the screen again, he felt like he’d explode. Mind white and blank with fury, he didn’t even think twice before finding her contact and blocking her. It felt liberating in a way nothing had ever felt before.

No thoughts stayed in his brain as he left his phone on the couch and stomped back the way he came. He tossed open Jimin’s door without care. The only thing that made him stop was that Jimin was sitting up, eyes wide and concerned. No doubt, Jeongguk’s yelling had re-awoken him. If he’d ever gone back to sleep in the first place.

That, Jeongguk decided, was his goal. To go back to sleep and forget all about what just happened. He didn’t want to try and wrap his head around that. He dropped onto Jimin’s mattress, pressed his face into the pillow he’d used last night, and muffled his frustrated scream into it. Call him dramatic, but it did wonders in making him feel better.

“Do—do I even want to ask?” Jimin questioned, nearly inaudible.

That broke the floodgates that Jeongguk kept carefully closed ever since Jimin unofficially met her over the phone. Oh, he wanted Jimin to see her in a good light, but currently, Jeongguk wanted him to see her for who she was for his own sanity.

“Probably not,” he grit through his teeth. “Unless you want to listen to me complain about every single bad quality she has.”

“...like, forgetting to fold the laundry kind of bad or-”

“How about her inability to communicate? The shifting of blame? Total lack of empathy?” He ticked each one off his fingers, scoffing. “I’m starting to think she doesn’t even have a soul.”

“Jeongguk.” Torn between amusement and concern, Jimin frowned at him. “Tell me if I’m wrong here, but are you initiating a bitching session about your wife? The woman you’ve been married to for seven years and are madly in love with?”

“Was madly in love with,” he corrected without thinking. Even though Jimin already knew that, it didn’t stop him from raising his eyebrows. The subtle reprimand brough rationality back. No, it probably wasn’t smart to badmouth his wife in front of Jimin. Especially since… yeah. It wasn’t a good idea at all. But gosh did he need to rant to someone.

“You’re right,” he mumbled, flopping back down onto the pillow. “‘S not fair to you anyway.”

“Is bringing up my puppy crush going to be a regular occurrence from now on?”

“I can’t just ignore it.”

The off-hand comment brough unnamable tension into the room. He tilted his head to peer up at him. Jimin’s face wasn’t readable.

“Why can’t you?”

Jeongguk’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth for five, achingly long seconds. When it detached, all he could offer was a whispered, “I don’t know.”

There was something searching in his gaze. Jeongguk felt bare before him, as if he could reach into his being and pull out his darkest secrets. Even the ones he didn’t know about. He didn’t mind, either. Although uncomfortable, he knew Jimin would never use anything he found against him.

“I think,” Jimin hummed. “You’ll be less upset if you sleep some more.”

He agreed with that logic and the change of subject. But he also couldn’t move. The thought of going back to the couch when he already laid on a perfect mattress with soft sheets that smelled like peaches actively depressed him. Yet the task of asking Jimin if he could stay and sleep in his bed felt too draining for the energy he currently had.

To his confusion, Jimin threw off the sheets and hit the floor. He managed to formulate a question while Jimin stretched.

“Are you not going to sleep more?”

“Bam needs a walk.” He shrugged it off, pulling open a drawer. After picking out some clothes, he turned back to Jeongguk with a smile. “Jin-hyung is going to be here around eight. He wanted to spend the morning with you and make you breakfast.”

“Oh, okay.”

As Jimin left the room, Jeongguk couldn’t help but wish he had stayed.

Notes:

Yeah so, Jeongguk is getting a little fed up with Heejin, Jimin is panicking, and the author is tired. XD we make a great team.

Chapter 20

Notes:

For once, my fingers were tripping over themselves in an attempt to write down the words in my head. This chapter came together with little to no difficulty at all.

I can't believe this is the first time I'm introducing this song, because this is actually the song that helped start this story.
Cold - Grabbitz & LAYNE

Waking up nearly an hour and a half later, Jeongguk received a text from his mother. Heejin had texted her. She came up with a grand excuse of Jeongguk’s phone dying to pass along the message to call her when he could. He could read in-between the lines of his mom’s text. She knew they argued about something. He didn’t care that she knew, focusing on the irritation he felt instead. Jeongguk needed more than the measly two hours he had to calm down. He would probably need the entire day. Namjoon’s offer to talk floated through his brain as he showered and changed, but he kept putting it off. He couldn’t ask him to tackle his mess, especially since it got so personal.

A second came from his dad, informing him that Heeseung woke up with a stomach ache again. They gave him medicine and he was feeling much better, but they’d keep him updated if anything changed. He debated calling, but he set it aside when the door opened, admitting Jimin, Bam, and two more bodies. He wasn’t surprised to see Seokjin, hands holding up two stacked full tote bags, but Taehyung was a welcome surprise. 

“Let me help with those.” Jeongguk shot to his feet, pocketing his phone and taking one of the bags.

“Aren’t you a gentleman?” Seokjin cooed, making Jeongguk redden. “I bet your wife loves that.” The sliver of anger barely surfaced when Seokjin’s face twisted in confusion. “Am I not supposed to mention her?”

Jeongguk gaped at him before he realized Seokjin was looking over his shoulder instead. Jimin looked suspiciously around the apartment as if he’d never seen it before. Accidentally catching his gaze, his throat bobbing with a guilty swallow. He hid his face in his hands. Jeongguk scowled.

“You can mention her,” he muttered, the damage already done. “We’re just… arguing right now.”

“No shit,” Taehyung snorted, flopping down on the couch.

“What do you know?” Jeongguk shot back, more playful than accusatory.

“Nothing. I keep trying to get Jimin to tell me—he tells me everything—but he’s being annoyingly tight lipped about this one-”

“Because it’s not my business to share!” he squeaked. “Tae, come on, don’t embarrass me like this- no, Bam, off the couch!”

Seokjin snorted in laughter as he brushed past him, leading the charge into the kitchen. Jeongguk followed behind him shaking his head in fond exasperation. He swore he just barely put the tote on the table, but Seokjin was already lighting up the stove and pulling an apron over his head. It was decorated with tiny maple story characters.

“I’m helping this time,” Jeongguk demanded, taking out the items out of the bags.

“Of course you are. Taehyung’s hopeless in the kitchen and I need Jimin to keep him entertained. Grab two chopping blocks and knives. They’re in the-” Jeongguk already opened up the appropriate cupboard, pulling two chopping blocks free. “I assume you’ve been keeping Jimin fed then.”

“Er, not really. I just did a little looking around on my first day here.” They’d mainly eaten take out, not having been around the apartment for meals. He wanted to cook for him though. Just as a thank you.

For a while they focused on breakfast. Jeongguk fumbled with the rolled omelet, out of practice with making traditional Korean dishes. A never ending stream of conversation came from the living room, Jimin and Taehyung hopping from topic to topic. They reminded Jeongguk of gossiping high school girls when Taehyung began talking about a few of the actors he worked on a show with.

“Damn,” Seokjin muttered after Taehyung finished explaining Dohyuk’s latest flirting attempt with his stylist. “He’s gotten worse.”

“Worse?”

“Last week he had a ‘wardrobe accident’ that left half his shirt unbuttoned. And of course he’d been eating chips so he didn’t want to grease up the buttons. Poor girl had to button his shirt for him.”

“Isn’t that harassment?” Jeongguk whispered, horrified.

“Oh, it would be if she hadn’t retold the experience to Taehyung’s stylist with the words, and I quote, ‘I wish I could have undone the rest of them and slid my hands over his chest.’”

Jeongguk spluttered, half laughing and half choking on his own spit. Seokjin joined him, prompting a “What’s so funny?!” from the living room.

“Nothing! Go back to gossiping!”

Jeongguk was still snickering when Seokjin randomly mentioned, “I already knew.”

He glanced over, frowning. Seokjin sprinkled sesame seeds over the spinach, but met his eyes with a small smile.

“Namjoon told me.”

“Oh.” His stomach sank. “How… how much did he tell you?”

“All of it. We do our best to tell each other everything, especially when we want to support someone else through something.” He waved a gloved hand at him, nonchalant and unapologetic. “When you tell Namjoon something you’re telling me too. And vice versa. Sorry if that feels like a breach of trust.”

“I’m not upset,” he reassured. Mostly true. It hurt a little that Namjoon hadn’t warned him that he was telling his husband, but it made sense. They didn’t keep secrets between them, even if the secrets weren’t their own. He knew he shouldn’t compare relationships, but with each vein he uncovered of Namjoon’s and Seokjin’s the more problems he saw with his own.

“Good, because I have questions.” Seokjin set aside his metal bowl with a decisive clang and faced him, leaning against the counter. “I take it this isn’t a regular ‘you forgot to do the dishes’ kind of argument, given that you’re halfway across the world.”

He cringed, the nail Seokjin just hit digging into his head. He rubbed his ring finger, unintentionally bringing Seokjin’s eyes right to it. They bugged, and Jeongguk curled into himself.

“Oh,” Seokjin rasped. “This is a big fight.”

He knew. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he knew. He couldn’t offer the same excuse he gave Taehyung. Nothing in the world could describe the juxtaposition his emotions went through. They settled on panic. Pure, anxiety filled panic that drew him into setting down the knife and digging his nails into his palms.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he pled in desperation. “Please, Jin-hyung, you can’t- I can’t- the questions-”

“Woah, woah, Jeongguk calm down.” Hands landed on his shoulders, squeezing with welcome weight. He sucked in a harsh breath, trying, trying, to not have an anxiety attack in the middle of Jimin’s kitchen. He hadn’t had it this bad since high school- “I’m not going to tell anyone. Well, I’ll tell Namjoon, but-”

“That’s fine,” he choked out. “I can’t expect you to- to not tell him. I just-”

“Jeongguk, how—how bad is it?”

No one knew. No one except his parents. His brother didn’t even know. Jimin didn’t know.

But the bubbling urge to tell someone burst, and he blurted, “Divorce.”

Seokjin gasped, small and quiet. His hands squeezed again. “You’re getting-?”

“No. Not- it’s not-” he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling sick. “I don’t want to. She doesn’t want to. And the kids- it’s not happening. It’s not but-” he lifted his hands, scrubbing them over his face as if that could reset everything. “It’s on the table. But we’re fixing it.” I’m going to fix it even if I don’t wan- “I-we’re talking.”

Except the talking wasn’t going well. It ended in arguments, feelings bruised on both sides. But… two steps forward and one step back. This was just the step back. It had to be.

“I don’t want to think about it. Or talk about it.” His eyes darted to the living room. “Not here.”

Seokjin followed his gaze, tensing when Taehyung laughed. His hands slipped from his shoulders.

“Okay,” he relented. “Not here. But damn Jeongguk. That’s- I don’t even know what to say right now.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I—I honestly can’t believe I told you.”

It sank in then. Someone knew. And it was… oddly relieving. On top of terrifying. What if he told another one of their friends? Like Hoseok or Yoongi. Imagining the judging stare from the rapper forced him to immediately shut down that thought.

“You’re fixing it though?”

“Yeah. I… we’re trying. I don’t want to lose her.” He’d said it before, thought it a million times, but it didn’t sound right said aloud. “She’s been a part of my life for so long. I love her.”

Loved, he internally corrected.

“Is that why Jimin took you under his wing? He’s distracting you from all that?”

“Yeah.” He couldn’t help the smile. “At least, uhm. I’m actually here to think, but thinking hasn’t gone so well so I’m focusing on the distracting part. You’re all helping with that, by the way, so thank you.”

“Here to serve.” He saluted lazily. “I guess that makes sense why he was vigorously giving me the X symbol earlier. It’s got to be hard having so many people mention her when you’re-”

“He doesn’t know.”

Seokjin, who had resumed fixing up the spinach, stopped. He felt small under the imposing stare.

“I haven't—I can’t tell him.”

“Why not?” Although structured and poised as a question, it didn’t sound like one. Jeongguk let his lungs and cheeks fill with air before releasing it slowly.

“I don’t know. I—I just don’t want him to know it’s that serious. Because it’s not.” He reaffirmed it for himself. “We’re not separating so what’s the point of him knowing?”

Seokjin didn’t seem to have anything to say about that. After staring at him for a moment longer, he returned to the spinach. Jeongguk waited a few seconds before picking up the knife again. They fell into rhythm again, accompanied by a silence uncomfortable enough to make him shift.

“Be careful.”

The sudden whisper of a sigh made him fumble with the knife. A too big carrot slice stood stark against the board. He glanced at the man next to him, brows furrowed.

“I am?”

“I bet you are, but… I don’t know.” He pursed his lips. “It’s just really easy when you’re in a tough place to seek comfort from the wrong sources-”

“What are you implying?” he cut him off, too many branches of what he might have meant stretching into the wrong sky.

“Let me finish before you bite my head off.” Seokjin  eyed him warily. “I’m not trying to imply anything, but I also want to raise the flag of warning. Ever heard of emotional cheating?”

“Emotional… cheating?”

Something pinged in his head. Not a good feeling.

“It’s a little too easy to do. I think everyone does it in their lifetime.” He shook his head. “Namjoon and I have both done it, but we caught the signs before it became conscious and threatened our relationship.”

The casual admittance of cheating, any form of it, dumped a bucket of ice cold water down his back. Seokjin didn’t notice his paralysis.

“That’s why we tell each other everything about difficult situations the people around us are going through. Because in the past we hid it because it wasn’t our place but it turned into hiding that person and things about them from each other. Often when we were their main confidants.”

“You think-” his throat was dry. “That Jimin and I are-?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been around the two of you enough, but it's probably best that you haven't told him.” He peeled off the protective gloves he’d already changed twice in the span of their conversation. “I know Jimin, and he can get emotionally invested quickly. He’s got too big of a heart not to. It’s difficult to find the line between platonic intimacy and emotional cheating. Just…” he heaved another heavy sigh. “Don’t let him be your main pillar of support. I’m not saying you can’t rely on him, but don’t always let him be the first person you go to, even if he is right there at the moment.”

It was almost too much to think about. He was running over every moment between them. Did some of them cross the line of appropriate to inappropriate?

“Did I break you?”

That jolted him out of it, head shaking. “N-no. Just. A lot to think about.”

“Should that worry me?” He lifted an eyebrow, and Jeongguk did what came naturally at that moment.

He deflected.

“You’re really smart,” he blurted.

It worked, to Jeongguk’s gut twisting guilt and relief. Seokjin stood up straighter, flashing a smug smirk.

“Namjoon isn’t the only genius in this friend group. I married him after all. Lucky him.”

The narcissism tugged a laugh out of him, and Taehyung chose that moment to slink into the kitchen and ask what was burning.

Seokjin lunged for the pot of soup, swearing faster than a woman who’d been sailing for fifty years.

---

“Are you sure you still want to-?”

Jeongguk rolled his eyes, reaching past Jimin to hold the door open for him.

“For the millionth time, yes, Jimin. I’m positive.”

“Hyung,” he corrected off-handedly, stepping into the parlor. “Have you considered the pain? I don’t think it hurts that much but other people-”

“Believe it or not, I’ve done the research.”

“But research doesn’t prepare you for-”

“Jimin, you’re parenting me again.”

Huffing, he crossed his arms as they slid into the tiny line at the front desk. The parlor was small and empty aside from someone looking through a design book in the corner and the person paying at the desk. Their full sleeve was visible up to the cuff of his shirt at the bicep. Jeongguk could see the newest addition protectively wrapped in clear film.

“I’m not parenting,” he complained. “Do you even know what you want?”

Okay. So. Jeongguk may or may not have been waiting for Jimin to ask that question ever since he decided he’d be getting a tattoo with him. He’d designed them before, having done a few pieces for Isaiah to take into his artist and freelancing a couple of stencils. Thinking about it now, Jeongguk had no clue how he didn’t have one already.

“This,” he declared, handing his phone to Jimin. His eyebrows went from one extreme to the next, furrowing before attempting to bury themselves in his hairline.

“I was thinking about putting it somewhere on my arm,” he explained, excitement bleeding from his voice. “Does it look good?”

“Are those… spiraeas?”

 The flowers spun and curled in a circle, creating the wreath the flowers were known for. Stems, petals, and leaves twisted and broke up to allow space for two spiraling names: Jungwon and Heeseung.

Blinking, he nodded. “Do you know a lot about flowers, hyung?”

His eyes darted up, searching. Blood drained from his knuckles, gripping his phone to the danger of shattering it.

“It’s my birth flower.”

It was entirely possible that Jeongguk could get hired at an aquarium for accurately impersonating a glubbing fish. Possibly a kid attraction. Elementary schoolers would love it.

“Jimin, when is your birthday?”

“October 13th.”

Coincidences weren’t supposed to be this on the nose. Reality didn’t allow it. Yet there they were.

“Well,” he rasped, weak at the knees. “I guess I’m never forgetting your birthday, considering it’s my wedding anniversary.”

Jimin fumbled his phone, nearly dropping it. A startled deer was usually Jeongguk’s gig, but Jimin made an ample replacement.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious. I think I’d be in trouble if I forgot”

He never had. Heejin did, once. She spent the next two weeks making up for it and never forgot it again. Though, that might have been the painfully obvious reminders he left around the house leading up to it.

Jimin woodenly handed back his phone, muttering something under his breath. His shoulders dipped with a sigh. Relieved, possibly, that Jeongguk didn’t intend to get a tattoo related to him. That would be twenty different levels of weird. 

But even though it wasn’t his intent, Jeongguk knew it had a double meaning now. He’d never be able to look at it without thinking of him alongside Heejin. Should he change the design? Did he have time to? If not spiraeas, maybe tiger lilies? Maybe a mix of Jungwon’s and Heeseung’s birth flowers? He wanted Heejin represented somehow, but he drew the line at putting her name on his skin. Three weeks ago he would have done it in a heartbeat. Now he didn’t dare.

Did Heejin even like tattoos?

Their turn at the counter stopped him from following that line of questioning. It didn’t matter in the end. After all, Heejin told him not to think and just do.

For once, he followed her advice.

---

Jimin’s tattoo artist was coincidentally, also named Jimin, though she insisted he call her Minnie for convenience. She cooed over Jeongguk’s design and the meaning behind it for a solid five minutes while transferring it to a stencil. He ended up writing down his Instagram for her, remembering in the middle of doing so that he hadn’t checked the account since the two celebrities followed him. Terrified to check, he put it off for another day and time.

Minnie had no issues squeezing in Jeongguk alongside Jimin’s set appointment since the other man planned to get a smaller, simpler design on his wrist.

“A thirteen,” Jimin muttered. “For my birthday. It’s my lucky number too.”

It took a while for Jeongguk to stop laughing. Jimin made it harder by giggling himself. The first poke of the needle shut him up. He winced for a few minutes, but soon the repeated buzz and pain in his bicep faded into numb prickling. Lulling, in a sense. He was half asleep by the time Minnie finished. While Jimin got his done, he endured the two artists discussing the intricacies of art and how it would transfer to a tattoo.

Walking out of the parlor had him grinning from ear to ear, high on endorphins and good conversation.

“Congratulations.” Jimin nudged him with his shoulder. “You just got your first tattoo. How do you feel?”

“Honestly? Pretty freaking great.” His fingers darted up towards the spot, brushing over the wrapping before skittering away. Minnie had taken a picture of it and posted it on the parlor’s page with a link to Jeongguk’s social media. Networking back home was like pulling teeth; miracles dropped out of the sky here.

“It looks really good,” he complimented. “No regrets yet?”

“I don’t think I’ll have a single one.” He laughed, bumping their shoulders together again. 

The street was cramped so they had to walk close together. Their hands brushed a few times. Jeongguk considered just holding hands with him, but the vibration of his phone in his pocket stopped him from indulging. Grinning when he saw his mom’s name, he waved the phone at Jimin.

“Boys are calling.”

“Want to stop in there to take it?” He gestured to a coffee shop, already shifting in that direction. Jeongguk followed him, answering the call on the way.

He barely said hello when his mom spoke, quiet and worried.

“Heeseung’s refusing to eat.”

His grin faltered. 

“The medicine seemed to work for a little bit and he ate a little breakfast. He got some of his energy back, but we came home from the beach early because he said his stomach was hurting again. He took more medicine and I got McDonalds to encourage him, but he’s not touching it. I’m getting worried.”

Jimin held the door open for him, face pinched. He clearly read the worry in his expression. Pulling his phone away, he murmured, “Heeseung’s not feeling well.”

“Is he okay?”

“I’m finding that out,” he sighed, leading them over to a quiet corner of the shop. “Can I talk to him, eomma?”

She put the phone on speaker as he sank into a chair. Jimin mouthed coffee at him and he nodded.

“Hey buddy,” he murmured. “Halamoni  said you’re feeling sick?”

“...yeah.” 

Heeseung sounded awful. Weak voiced and drained of energy. It didn’t sound like his son at all. Even when he had colds he would be talking his ear off with a nasally voice between coughs, sniffles, and memorably in the middle of Jeongguk helping him to blow his nose. 

“My stomach really hurts, daddy,” he whimpered. Jeongguk could hear the edge of tears. He simultaneously cursed and thanked his mom for doing a simple phone call. He didn’t know what he would do if he could see him right now.

He hated it when his kids were sick. It stretched him impossibly thin out of worry. He felt sick to his stomach himself, thinking of how Heeseung might feel right now. He didn’t have his dad with him, the person that always took care of him when he wasn’t feeling well. It worsened the pain. He’s never been away from them for this long and it was starting to take its toll. He… he really wanted his kids right now. The tickle of Jungwon’s hair against his chin and neck, Heeseung’s endless questions and toothy grin—Jeongguk missed them.

“When did halamoni give you medicine?”

“Only ten minutes ago, Jeongguk. It hasn’t had enough time to kick in,” his mother answered. Jeongguk nodded although they couldn’t see him. The nail of his thumb found its way between his teeth, but he caught himself before biting down. 

“Have you had lunch, buddy?”

A sniffle. “It hurts. I don’ wanna eat.”

He’s crying. He’s crying and I’m not there-

“You need to eat, Heeseung,” he rasped, trying to hold himself together. Curling his fingers into his palm, he did it three times to ground himself. “I know it hurts, but grandma gave you medicine and so you’re going to feel better soon. You don’t want to feel better but then be hungry, right?”

His son merely whined and sniffled again. Jeongguk squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to imagine him curled up in a chair at the table, rubbing at his eyes as he bit back cries. Heeseung did his best not to cry ever since he heard from the playground that boys aren’t supposed to cry. Jeongguk reassured him every time that tears were for everyone. It was hard to convince him of that when he refused to cry in front of him. He didn’t want him to see him like that.

“Eomma,” he whispered, unable to speak louder. “Can you cut up some bananas and apples for him? Something small-”

“I don’ wanna eat!” Heeseung repeated in a full wail. “You can’t make me!”

He hated this. He wanted nothing more than to take whatever pain Heeseung felt, but that was impossible to do.

Jimin returned then, placing a to-go cup in front of him. Jeongguk mouthed a thank you, simultaneously trying to communicate that they might be there for a moment.

“Heeseung, buddy, my deer, at least two slices of apple. Can you do that for me? Can you do that for daddy?”

“No! No, no, I-” he dissolved into unintelligible hiccupping and sobbing, but Jeongguk caught one thing.

I want mommy.

That killed him. It dragged him seven feet under with no signs of stopping. Heeseung wanted his mom. He wanted Heejin. Jeongguk couldn’t—he couldn’t separate him from her. Not if he would cry for her like he did just then.

“Okay,” he mumbled faintly. “Okay, buddy I’ll get mommy, okay? Eomma, can you-”

Heeseung’s cries faded into the background, his mom’s voice coming in clearer. “Sorry I couldn’t hear you over him.”

“It’s okay,” he breathed out shakily, scrubbing a hand over his face. A leg tapped against his under the table. He flashed Jimin a weak smile. “I’m going to call Heejin and explain what’s going on. Maybe she can get him to eat. He’s not going to listen to me right now.”

“Jeongguk… we’ve tried calling her a few times when the boys ask and she hasn’t picked up half the time.”

Copper and iron filled his mouth as he bit too hard at his cheek, the skin tearing open. Blood spilled against his teeth. He swallowed it back.

“She’ll pick up for me. Can you check him for a fever? I want to make sure there’s nothing else going on.”

“I checked this morning, but I’ll check again.”

“Okay, I’ll call you back if she doesn’t answer.” They exchanged goodbyes and he immediately set to work unblocking his wife’s number.

“...it doesn’t sound like he’s okay.”

He nearly forgot about Jimin, barely suppressing a surprised flinch.

“No, he’s not. He’s got a stomach bug and isn’t eating. Which isn’t a huge issue but… I worry. I always worry.”

“Not being there makes it worse, doesn’t it?” he observed, peeking at him over the rim of his own cup.

“Yeah,” he breathed. Jimin always seemed to understand. “My mom raised two kids of her own so I know she’ll be able to handle it but I’m usually there. Sorry, give me a second.”

In leu of words, he nudged him with his leg again, knees knocking with knees. Preoccupied with the task at hand, Jeongguk didn’t think anything of it when he put a hand on Jimin’s knee and squeezed. Oblivious to the freeze it caused, he counted the rings. It went to voicemail. It was the middle of the night in Florida, late enough that a sane person would be asleep. Their children came first though, so Heejin could deal with being woken up.

During the third attempt, Jimin shifted his leg, dislodging Jeongguk’s hand. He forgot it was there, retracting it with wide blinks that led to Jimin’s face. He wasn’t looking at him, peering outside the coffee shop window. Silver adorned fingers picked at the sleeve of his coffee cup. He’d forgone make-up today, but that didn’t make him any less beautiful.

Like a lighting crack across his mind, Seokjin’s words resurfaced.

Ever heard of emotional cheating?

He heard of it, but didn’t know exactly what it consisted of. Part of him wanted to ignore the warning, but there wasn’t any possibility of doing so. He didn’t believe they were doing anything wrong, but it wouldn’t hurt to read up on it to make sure.

The line connected with a groggy, “You calmed down faster than I thought you would.” He dislodged from his thoughts. Startled, he tore his zoned out eyes from Jimin’s face.

“Heejin! Hey, hi, uhm,” he blabbered, thrown off by his own internal musings. “How are you?”

He cringed the second the question left his mouth. Bad question to ask.

“Seriously?”

“Heeseung’s sick,” he blurted, knee bouncing. He could feel Jimin looking at him but refused to look in his direction. This was the first time he was talking on the phone with her with him sitting with him, and it unsettled him. “That’s why I’m calling.”

“Sick with what? A cold?”

“Stomach bug. Eomma—Junghee gave him medicine twice today but it isn’t helping.” The worry for his son returned with a vengeance, calming his frazzlement while also making him restless. His hands were tied.

“Well, she can’t take him to a clinic because we don’t have insurance over there.” 

The jiggling of his knee stilled. His throat closed.

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

She paused before slowly saying, “No, but it is a concern.”

Jeongguk pinched himself, forcing a deep inhale so he didn’t start another argument with her in the middle of a coffee shop.

“We don’t have to worry about that right now,” he managed calmly. “Right now I’m just focused on getting him to eat. Junghee said he didn’t eat much at breakfast and he’s refusing to eat now.”

“What are we supposed to do about that?”

“I’m sorry,” he snapped, the calm immediately breaking. “You want to repeat that?”

“I don’t know if it escaped your attention, but I’m in Florida right now,” she snapped back. “I’m not there to spoon feed him applesauce or yogurt-”

“Heeseung is five! He’s been on solid foods for years-”

“I know that! Those two things are easy on the stomach—what the hell Jeongguk? I know you think I’m an incompetent parent but that seriously-”

“I never said that. Don’t blame your insecurities on me-” 

A leg pressed against his, silencing him as he dragged his eyes to the owner. Jimin tilted his head, a gesture towards the rest of the cafe. A head or two jerked away when he swept his eyes over the space. He pinched the bridge of his nose, huddling down in his chair.

Whatever response Heejin had to his hissed comment went unnoticed and interrupted. “Okay, okay stop. I’m sorry, but let’s not argue right now.”

“You can’t turn it on and off like a light switch,” she snarled. “You started this one and I want to finish it instead of running away-”

“It’s not about us right now. It’s about Heeseung.”

“What am I supposed to do-?!”

“You call my mom,” he ground out. “Calm him down, and keep him that way enough to coax him into eating.”

“And why can’t your mom do that?”

“Because he’s not her responsibility!” he seethed, whispered ice over the phone. “He’s ours whether she’s watching him right now or not. I’ve already tried, and I could keep trying, but he’s asking for you.”

He’s always asking for you. That’s why I haven’t left you yet.

That wasn’t the bombshell Jeongguk wanted to drop on him. Not in the middle of an argument. Not while his kid was sick. Not when he couldn’t process it in the safety bubble of privacy. It dropped anyway, with no regard for his preferences. Oh he definitely knew. He knew from the beginning that they were the only reason he hadn’t packed his bags and left for good. But knowing in the back of his mind and actively suppressing it was far different than knowing it. It wasn’t even wanting to leave because she hurt him, like it was in the beginning.

He wanted to leave because their entire relationship was off the rails. He’d been dragging it behind him on a rope, trying to get to the next station. The next anniversary. The next good day. Where he could take a breather and say, it’ll get better from here. But it never did. It never had. The erosion continued until he stared at the acid remains of what they started out as.

I don't want to be with you anymore.

“Call your son,” he said with finality.

“Fine.”

He wasn’t surprised when she hung up on him. Frankly, he didn’t care. Setting his phone on the table, his head and arms followed. He pressed his face into the crook of his elbow, hiding from everything around him. Head in the sand. Overstimulated and wired, it was all he could do.

Slowly, he began picking out things around him. The table smelled like bleach and coffee. Behind the counter, the coffee machines hummed and whirred, crinkles of plastic and clink of glasses joining the concourse. Further away, someone laughed. He could taste the mint from his toothpaste, mingling with the egg rolls he’d eaten hours earlier. His forehead and arm felt weird and sticky from pressing together. A better sensation was of fingers running through his hair, parting the strands and smoothing them back in lulling, repetitive glides. Or the leg still pressed against his under the table, warm and there.

“Sorry.”

The fingers froze, hand heavy. Restarting after a second, Jimin murmured, “Is it always that intense?”

He nodded, the motion awkward from his positioning. Rolling his head to the side, he kept his eyes closed. Jimin combed around his ear, redirecting the strands that tickled the shell. He hadn’t had his hair played with in ages.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He lifted from the table. Jimin’s hand fell away, the cool press of a ring brushing against his temple.

“Not right now,” he whispered. Not with you, he wanted to say. That would hurt though, and he didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. Jeongguk wanted to talk about it with him, but Seokjin’s neon warning sign kept flashing. “I just need a distraction.”

Jimin sat back, lips pursing in thought. He knew the moment he thought of something, because he smiled.

“There’s an arcade that the six of us go once in a blue moon.”

“Is this the arcade that the DDR battle of a century happened at?”

Jimin’s head tilted with laughter, answering Jeongguk’s question with the hitching sound. He grinned.

“I’m so down.”

Notes:

1) Now, I had no intentions of revealing Jeongguk's possible divorce to any of the other guys. Then Seokjin waltzed in, took off his sunglasses, and winked at me. I spilled all of Jeongguk's secrets. Can you blame me?
(Also, MVP for saying it how it is and not being scared to be like, "Bruh, you and Jimin and treading a dangerous line")
((Also also Namjin couple goals))

2) I almost made Jimin and Heejin have the same birthday, but last minute decided to make it the wedding anniversary. Just to make it hurt a little more. :D

3) "You can't turn it on and off like a light switch"
My stupid brain: YOU TURN ME ON LIKE A LIGHT SWITCH- and I don't know the rest of the words...

4) Did I say 150k words? *Looks at current word count*
Heh. Probably not. I will no longer make predictions because my chapters decided to get 1k-2k longer than before. Chapter count is still looking okay though. I'll let you know if that changes.

(Edit 7/9/25)
Added this part in Seokjin and Jeongguk's conversation because I realize it didn't make sense that he told him to be careful when he hadn't told him anything.
"I haven't been around the two of you enough, *but it's probably best that you haven't told him*"

Chapter 21

Notes:

This chapter starts out cute until it isn't. It's a nearly 7k snowball of fluff to angst. I tell you this because I need to sincerely apologize for what I'm about to put you all through. Please forgive me.

They’d barely finished putting money on the plastic key card when an arm slung around Jeongguk’s shoulder, startling him.

“You, me, bowling,” Taehyung announced before sliding away to the employee at the counter. His jaw dropped when the actor lowered his facemask to speak easier. Familiar chuckles sounded behind him, and he spun to find Namjoon behind him, covered with a bucket hat and mask. He  pointed his thumb over his shoulder.

“Jin’s right behind us. Just had to park the car. I think he’d be upset that you’re messing up his schedule if the arcade wasn’t what you were doing.”

“We’ll have time for the night market too.” Jimin sidled up beside him. “Besides, it’s not about what Jin-hyung wants to do. It’s about what Jeongguk wants to do.”

“And Jeongguk wants to get his butt kicked in bowling.” Taehyung reappeared, trapping him under his arm again.

“Arcade bowling is the only bowling you’re good at. If it was real bowling-”

“We dost not speaketh of it.”

Jimin rolled his eyes, but smiled at them. “I hope it was okay that I invited everyone else.”

“More than okay,” he croaked past the emotional rock in his throat. He wasn’t crying anymore. He refused to. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

“Hobi and Yoongi-hyung will join us until later if we’re still around.”

Jeongguk glanced around the arcade. Despite being on the smaller side, it was jam packed with games and had a decent amount of people. The childish part of him wanted to play every single game, which would take the better part of the afternoon and into the evening. It might be selfish to spend that much time playing around. He glanced at Jimin, finding him already looking. His smile grew bigger as if he knew Jeongguk’s thoughts.

“That’s okay,” he said to Namjoon, not looking away from him. “We’re going to be here a while.”

He understands me.

---

Taehyung trounced him at bowling twice before Jeongguk finally beat him. Seokjin arrived just in time to celebrate his win with him before dragging him away to the consoles. Namjoon and Taehyung joined them to play SuperSmashBros. Seokjin was stupidly good with King K. Rool while Namjoon spammed Princess Peach’s umbrella float. Taehyung stuck his selection on random and didn’t move it. Jimin refused to play, claiming when it came to this game, he was an exceptionally sore loser.

“Okay, that’s it,” Jeongguk huffed after Seokjin threw him off the map for the billionth time. “You’re banned from King K. Rool. Play a different character, like Olimar or something.”

“Jeongguk, no,” Namjoon whimpered. “Anything but Olimar.”

“Ah.” Seokjin held up a hand, grinning evilly. “The baby has spoken.”

“The what?” Jeongguk spluttered.

“The baby.” He shrugged, moving the selector to the Captain space explorer. “You’re the youngest of us. We’ve babied you since day one. I think it’d sell my soul for you. Or adopt you. Namjoon, do you want a kid?”

The rapper joined Jeongguk in his spluttering, face turning crimson.

“I’m twenty-six. I have two kids.” He laid out the facts. “You can’t adopt me. Besides, I thought I was a DILF.”

Someone choked behind him while Taehyung roared with laughter. It occurred to him, just then, that the two people he’d actually discussed that with weren’t there. So he’d just called himself a DILF without someone already setting the prerogative.

“That’s what Hobi-hyung called me!” he exclaimed in an attempt to save face. His cheeks burned.

“He may be right, but that doesn’t change my ability to dote on you.” Seokjin winked.

“You can’t seriously agree with him.”

He raised a challenging eyebrow before raising his hand. “All in favor of agreeing that Jeongguk is a DILF?”

Still bent over the table and wheezing, Taehyung raised his hand. Although thoroughly covered by his hat and mask, Namjoon covered his face with a hand as he too, lifted his arm.

“Et tu Brutus?” he whispered, horrified.

“I’m sorry, Jeongguk, but it’s true.”

"I’m too young!” He spun around, pleading with the one person he knew would take his side. “Come on Jimin, back me up here.”

Jimin, who had his arms crossed, shook his head. “I’m staying out of this one.”

Their friends laughed, and Seokjin put the remote back in his hands. Scowling, he picked Yoshi, intent on beating Seokjin this time. Taehyung leaned over, murmuring, “Jimin raised his hand.”

Jeongguk glanced back, finding Jimin on his phone. It could have been the lighting, but Jimin’s face looked flushed. Swallowing, he shot Taehyung a look.

“Why would you tell me that?”

The tall actor regarded him with an impassive face. Jeongguk suddenly felt like he was on the receiving end of an exam and he was on the verge of failing or passing.

“I thought it was funny.” He shrugged. Jeongguk had the distinct feeling that wasn’t the reason at all. He returned to the game, Jeongguk following after a moment. He didn’t like the twisting feeling in his chest.

He lost that round. Seokjin was even better at Olimar than King K. Rool.

---

When Hoseok arrived, they all got dragged to the DDR machines, or at least, the Korean version of them. Jeongguk got one warm up round before getting thrown into the deep end. They faced against each other tournament style. He won against Namjoon easily, snickered when Taehyung and Seokjin engaged in sabotage, and broke into mirthful tears when the two dancers failed their song. (They’d put themselves on expert, but still).

Jeongguk ended up losing to Hoseok in the final round, having beaten Taehyung in the second. They each took a few more turns on the machines before Jeongguk’s attention began to wane. He glanced around for something else to do, finding the basketball hoops across the room. Tugging on Jimin’s sleeve, he got his attention and pointed. He only glanced once at their group before nodding, following him over to the game.

They swiped the card on both machines, whirring them to life and the balls dropped. For the next minute and a half Jeongguk focused on the textured rubber and swish of the net. He didn’t notice Jimin’s machine stopping earlier than his as his point value kept his game going. When his timer finally ran out he took a step back and looked at his score. 78 compared to Jimin’s 53. He grinned. He’d been doing a pretty good job at being a good sport, but it was nice to finally win against someone.

“You’re not half bad at basketball,” he observed, peering up at Jeongguk’s score.

“Played a lot of open gym in college. Isaiah was on the team and always dragged me out for extra practice.”

“Is he your best friend back home? He was your best man at your wedding, right?”

“Yeah. We don’t talk much anymore, but sometimes we reconnect. He’s living in Tennessee now with his boyfriend.” Jimin’s expression shifted slightly at the news. “We were nearly inseparable in college though. He was my roommate. We went through a lot together.”

“He sounds like a really good friend.”

He swiped the card through the machine again, passing it to Jeongguk to do the same. He simply held the card in his hand, biting the inside of his cheek. It stung from his earlier tearing. Jimin didn’t notice, grabbing the first ball and lining it up. It swished through the net. The second did the same. He lined up the third, and-

“He was the first guy I ever kissed.”

Jimin’s shot went wide, knocking against the backboard and bouncing forward, barely catching the netting to keep it in the machine area. He didn’t reach for it. Jeongguk held his slackjaw gaze, shuffling his feet. He had to tell the story now.

“He uhm. Went through a really bad break-up and we got drunk. Kinda dangerous for me because I was on a Visa and underage but that’s what you do with your friends, you know? You get drunk and rant with them. Part of the post break-up ritual.” He knew he was rambling, but the alienating look he received made him nervous. “Stupid, I know, but we were dumb college kids.”

“How did that evolve into kissing him?” Jimin asked, the question nearly trembling. Jeongguk rubbed the back of his head, regretting he said something. This was awkward and tense.

“I think he said something about her complaining that he wasn’t a good kisser? Testing it seemed like the most obvious thing in the world to us. Again, we were drunk, so-”

“You said he was the first guy you kissed. That implies there were others.” He sounded on the edge of panic. The timer on the game buzzed. Jeongguk stared at him. He knew why it was awkward now. Tension stretched between them because to Jimin, this was a serious conversation while Jeongguk thought it was a light one. A friend sharing a story about his life. He should have realized that this particular story would hold weight.

“Jimin,” he said his name softly, because he knew how it sounded now, sharing this with him. “I know I’m straight, because I did the self-searching and experimenting to get to that point.”

Kissing Isaiah sent him on that journey because, well. It had been nice once he peeled away the inebriated layers and the fact that Isaiah was his best friend. Jeongguk spent the next month in a crisis, wondering if he liked guys. He’d never been attracted to a guy before. Isaiah was a special case. When he got the courage to explore the possibility, it didn't feel the same. He chalked it up to Isaiah just being good at kissing—something his ex-girlfriend had been entirely wrong about. His weird not-crush on his friend faded after meeting Heejin three months after the incident.

He listened and watched Jimin take a deep breath and release it slowly. He closed his eyes, visibly gathering himself together. When they opened, he flashed a weak smile and playfully punched his arm.

“Don’t scare me like that,” he scolded.

“Scare you?” He rubbed at his arm. Playful or not, that hurt. “Why would me possibly not being straight scare you?”

Jimin’s expression faltered. He regretted asking because he knew Jimin would be honest in his answer.

“Because then I’d have to be more careful and it’s already hard enough.”

It’s not going away, he realized, with sickening clarity. The ‘puppy crush’ Jimin described wasn't fading. They still hadn’t talked about boundaries and it had been another day and then some. At this point it would be futile since he’d be returning to Busan on Saturday. But if Jimin was struggling this much—If it wasn’t fading… did that mean it was growing?

“Four points? Jimin-ah, I taught you better than that!”

Jeongguk jumped and spun, coming face to face with Yoongi. He had his hands buried in a hoodie, a mask tucked under his chin. His eyes were on the basketball machines, horror painted over his face. The tension disappeared immediately.

“I didn’t do that bad!” Jimin rushed to defend himself. “We just got caught up talking.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He held out his hand to Jeongguk. It took a few seconds for him to realize he wanted the card. Yoongi guided Jimin into position at the machine, making him show him his shooting form. Jimin rolled his eyes, but complied. Jeongguk watched Yoongi’s eyes run over his frame. His lips pressed into a thin line.

“Straighten your back a bit more,” the rapper murmured, putting his hand on his lower back. The other pressed against his front, molding him in the position he wanted. He mumbled something else, too quiet for Jeongguk to pick up on, but it made Jimin giggle. His gummy smile appeared, pleased with himself as he let him go. He swore Yoongi’s fingers lingered on his back, something that triggered an odd protective urge. He forced it back. Yoongi was Jimin’s friend.

I know I’m no Yoongi-hyung but I’d make a great boyfriend. Hoseok’s playful comment resurfaced.

“Show me what you got, Jimin-ah.” Yoongi swiped the card, and the machine started up.

If Jimin was nervous having two spectors, he didn’t show it. Ball after ball sank into the next, his face drawn in intense concentration. Jeongguk had the feeling that Jimin hadn’t been trying very hard when they’d played, because he easily beat his previous score, falling short of Jeongguk’s by three points when the buzzer sounded. Jimin wiped his hands on his jeans, laughing.

“Ah, I got sweaty at the end there. How’d I do, Yoongi? Did I meet your expectations?”

The lack of honorific was almost as startling as the edge of flirtation in Jimin’s voice.

“Surpassed them,” Yoongi reported, grinning. “You know you always do.”

Reciprocation. What the hell. They were flirting, right in front of him. Jeongguk didn’t need to pinch himself to know he wasn’t imagining it.

“Hyung is the real basketball player here,” Jimin offered to Jeongguk, stepping out of the bubble he and Yoongi had been in. A bubble that Jeongguk couldn’t enter unless invited; like now. “Did it throughout high school and played in a few idol matches.”

“I know,” he mumbled.

His tone invited an awkward silence between the three of them until Yoongi cleared his throat.

“78 isn’t too bad.”

“I’ve gotten to 90 before.” He fought the urge to cross his arms over his chest defensively. He knew it would make his arms stand out, a subtle posturing movement he picked up from other guys in the gym. There was no reason he’d need to do that here. There wasn’t anyone he needed to impress or threaten. The subtle challenge of his words, however, told a different story. As did the competitive flare in his gut.

Yoongi rose to the challenge with a quirked smile and slightly raised brow. His eyes read differently. Assessing as he had at Seokjin’s and Namjoon’s. Peeling back layer after layer.

“That’s all?”

His jaw tightened as he held out his hand. Yoongi tossed the card carelessly, producing his own from his hoodie pockets. They brought the machines to life.

Jeongguk swore he’d never been as concentrated and distracted in his entire life. He kept one eye on his game, the other on Yoongi’s scoreboard. While his eyes were occupied, he could feel Jimin standing behind them, watching.  But he couldn’t tell which one of them he was watching, which… bothered him. He couldn’t puzzle out the reason why, and with most of his focus on sinking the ball through the hoop, he shoved it away.

Annoyingly enough, when his timer ran out, Yoongi’s machine ran for a couple more seconds. He wiped at the pathetic sweat that had gathered at his hairline, scowling at the glaring red numbers. Yoongi stood casually, hands back in his hoodie pockets and a grin playing at his mouth.

102 : 108

“Want a rematch?” he taunted, grin widening. “You got pretty close there-”

“What else are you good at?” he interrupted. Yoongi’s smile sharpened into something different. Something made dangerous by the look in his eyes. Jeongguk was treading on a line, but he didn’t know which one. He tilted his head towards a different part of the room.

“Ever played darts?”

Jeongguk was horrible at darts. He nodded anyway, leading the charge with heavy steps.

---

“Heeseung definitely gets his pout from you.”

He pushed his lips out further, slouching in his chair while Jimin laughed to the danger of tipping his chair. Jeongguk braced an arm against the back of it to make sure he didn’t, still pouting to himself. He thought he’d become a better sport through the years, but letting Heeseung win at a game was much different than fighting for his life and ultimately losing.

He’d lost at basketball, darts, and even an arcade version of mini golf. But Pac Man came through. The classic of all classic arcade games put him out of his misery. At that moment, it didn’t matter that he lost at everything else. The frustrated, petulant tension that built since Yoongi’s cocky smirk after basketball drained with a breathy, almost disbelieving, “I did it.”

After winning, he caught Jimin’s attention and pointed at the arcade game, grinning like a fool. He didn’t say anything else, just pointed and waited. Jimin had blinked twice before smiling tiredly and giving him a thumbs up. Jeongguk’s grin turned bruising, insides wiggling with happiness because Jimin noticed.

He rode the strange high right until Yoongi trounced him at air hockey, the final game they played before Namjoon corralled them out of the arcade to get dinner. Jeongguk went right back into sulking, which he’d developed after he lost darts.

“I never thought you’d lose to Yoongi.” Seokjin sat back in his chair, flabbergasted. “At air hockey of all things.”

The rapper shrugged, gums on display with his smile. He’d been crowing about his victories in the most annoying way possible, with nonchalant smugness. It rubbed Jeongguk in all the wrong ways for no absolute reason. He’d seen this side of the idol in many, many game show videos and it never bothered him before. But now he could only sink lower in his seat, miserably palming his drink.

“All right, hyung, cut back on the gloating.” Jimin nudged Yoongi with his shoulder, because of course he was sitting on the other side of him.

“Why were you two competing anyway?” Taehyung tilted his head. “I don’t think I’ve seen hyung that competitive since Kyungmin.”

“Taehyung!” Hoseok hissed. The damage was already done though. The table fell into tense silence for reasons Jeongguk didn’t know. It made him sit up, all too aware of how still Jimin was beside him. After a beat, he shook his head, a flimsy smile on his lips.

Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek.

“Who… who’s Kyungmin?”

A different curse word was said by each person around the table, Taehyung’s being the most creative with a stupid mumpsimus. Jeongguk had no idea what that meant, but he figured since it was said along with asshole and bastard it had to be along the same lines. Jimin, unsurprisingly, gave the most informative answer with a dry eye roll.

“An ex,” he explained, picking up his straw wrapper. He twirled it around his fingers, relaxing back into his chair. His gaze flickered to him and shifted away. “The ex.”

It took a second for him to put the pieces together with the emphasis. As it clicked, he sat upright and nearly smacked Hoseok when he whirled to face him.

“The guy that cheated on you? The same dude that you had to get a restraining order on?”

“The one and only,” he muttered. He frowned at the rest of the table, oblivious to Jeongguk fuming. “We can stop tiptoeing around it guys. It’s been a while.”

“How long has it been?” Namjoon asked, his nose scrunched. “You broke up with him before Christmas, right? Seven months?”

“Eight,” Yoongi corrected. “He ended things at the beginning of the month. All I’m saying is that I was right.”

“Yes, we know.” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “How can we forget? Literally every time we hung out around him you’d spend half the time hissing at one of us that he’s suspicious and hiding something.”

“And we didn’t believe you because we thought you were having second thoughts about breaking up with him.” Hoseok leaned across the table to see around Jeongguk, grinning. “You’ve got a bad case of overprotection and jealousy when it comes to him.”

It was as though someone dragged the chair out from underneath him. All the pings and hints he’d gotten earlier roared back to life, formulating the suspicion he’d hidden in his subconscious ever since he saw them in the kitchen.

Jimin and Yoongi had dated.

“Jealousy is a stretch,” Yoongi argued, cheeks flushing. “As for protection, Jimin just so happens to be the person that needs it the most.”

“Hey! I take full offense to that!”

“Do you or do you not pick the worst guys out there?”

“I dated you for nearly a year,” he huffed, poking him in the side. Yoongi wiggled away. When that didn’t work, he grabbed Jimin’s fingers. “So what does that say about you?”

“I never excluded myself from the list. There’s a reason we broke up, remember?” Out of sight from everyone except Jeongguk, he watched their finger’s tangle together, Jimin’s easily fitting into the spaces between Yoongi’s. His thumb smoothed over his knuckle, unconscious and intimate. “I didn’t treat you right and you deserve better than that.”

A hush fell over the table with his words. Once again, they sat in a bubble. Impenetrable and… special.

“Damn right I do,” Jimin agreed after a moment, flashing a disarming grin. He pulled his hand loose from Yoongi’s, leaning back in his chair. “Hoseok-hyung, remember what you said about being a great boyfriend? Since I’ve got a historically bad track record, do you want to fix it?”

That broke the odd silence as the table burst into laughter.

Except Jeongguk.

He couldn’t bring himself to laugh. Not with the uncomfortable weight in his chest preventing him from doing so. Knuckles white against the edge of his chair, he covered up the absence with a long drink of water. More than anything he was confused. Why was he feeling this way? Why did the thought of them together, at any point in time, make him feel sick? Why couldn’t he laugh like the rest of them? Every time a reveal of a same-sex relationship entered the conversation he’d had the worst reactions. But it didn’t bother him, did it? Namjoon and Seokjin didn’t, but Yoongi and Jimin did and they weren’t even together anymore.

Was this some sort of selective homophobia? What was wrong with him?

The familiar feeling of needing an escape pricked at him. He needed time to process. To think. But thinking never went well with him. It always left him spiralling with unanswered questions and distressing thoughts, but he couldn’t stay. Everything felt too small. Too close. He dragged his phone out of his pocket, tongue tangling on an excuse as he absently read the first text presented to him.

His chair screeched as he pushed back, abrupt and urgent.

“Jeongguk?”

“Sorry, I need to call my parents,” he forced out, worry and panic overwhelming him. He spun to leave, stopped by a hand on his wrist.

“It is Heeseung? Is he okay?” Jimin asked.

“He developed a fever,” he answered hurriedly. “I need to-”

“Go.” Jimin’s fingers fell, trailing softly against his wrist to his palm before lifting up and away. The trickle of comfort gave him the boost of strength he didn’t know he needed until he got it. His panic eased.

As he moved to leave, he caught Yoongi’s eye. It was that same look. Stealing every secret Jeongguk had before he even knew them himself. Borderline judgmental. He wasn’t imagining things. Yoongi had an issue with him. But which was it? Overprotectiveness or jealousy? Jeongguk set his jaw and turned away. 

Whatever it was, Jeongguk hadn’t done anything to deserve the unspoken interrogation.

---

When Jeongguk opened the door to go back inside and found Yoongi sitting in the lobby, clearly waiting for him, he stepped back outside and held the door open for him. He didn’t hesitate, joining him in the muggy Seoul heat. They edged away from the door, slipping to the side. They rested against the wall of the building. Jeongguk rubbed at his eyes. His fingers twinged from where he’d picked at his nails as he paced, listening to his parents explain what was going on and that they were taking him to a clinic. He hadn’t even had a chance to text Heejin yet.

Silence became their speaker for two, long, uncomfortable minutes. Jeongguk knew because he counted in his head, trying to keep thoughts from racing. They hit two minutes and three seconds before Yoongi spoke, soft and unguarded.

“How's your kid?”

“Not doing so hot,” he answered honestly, throat tight. “He’s barely eaten anything all day and now he’s got a fever. And I’m stuck here, unable to get to him. It’s late enough that they might not be able to get him into a clinic and I just-” he scraped his hands through his hair. “I want him to feel better now.”

Yoongi nodded sympathetically. “I can’t imagine it’s easy for you right now.”

“That’s an understatement.”

They fell quiet again. Jeongguk restarted his count. When he got to three minutes, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why do you hate me?”

“That’s an assuming question.”

“I’m not wrong, am I?” He shifted against the wall, burying his hands into his jean pockets. He glared at the shifting ombre of color in the sky. Day fading into night. “I don’t have much patience right now, so whatever you want to say to me, say it.”

“Don’t forget that I’m older than you,” Yoongi warned with expressionless features. “Jimin lets you get away with it, but I appreciate respect.”

Jeongguk ran his tongue against the back of his teeth, biting back the fighting words he wanted to say. His temper had been too violate lately. Taking his emotions out on Yoongi wouldn’t be fair of him, even if the older man currently irritated him. He’d also caught him at a bad time, when he was still trying to deal with the lack of control he had in his son’s current situation.

“I’m sorry,” he managed, reigning himself in. “I’m just—there’s tension between us and I don’t know where it came from. I thought I'd been imagining it, but after this afternoon I know I haven’t been. I want to know what I did.”

Yoongi sighed, long and heavy. It confirmed that there was something and that put a lump in his already lumpy throat. It could have been the backside of a toad with how it felt.

“I think this conversation came with poor timing,” he eventually admitted. “Because I honestly don’t want to say what I’ve been thinking when you’re stressed about your kid.”

“Trust me when I say that even if Heeseung wasn’t sick I’d still be stressed.” With everything going on, how could he not be? Ever since Heeseung came into his life it’d been one stress point to another. Sometimes he thrived in it. This week… not so much. “And not knowing what I did to piss you off is stressing me out even more.”

Honesty came to him far too easy right now. He was tired of choosing his words carefully. Tired of wrapping his emotions away. Treading lightly wasn’t something he wanted to do anymore. The faster he could get to the point, the better. Yoongi seemed to sense that, because he sighed again.

“Look, I know about Jimin’s feelings for you.”

He almost choked on his spit. Of all the things he thought Yoongi would say, that wasn’t it. There was also a sharp misguided sense of betrayal. Had Jimin gone around and told all his friends that he was crushing on a married man? How long had he—or the others—known? Had their interactions been picked apart, piece by piece? Is this why Seokjin gave him the riot talk about emotional cheating? Was he going to get a warning from each of his friends to be careful or back off completely? He forced himself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Okay,” he managed, eyeing him. “What about them?”

Yoongi licked his lips, shifting against the wall. If Jeongguk read this right, Yoongi almost seemed nervous.

“Jimin has this effect on people,” he began slowly. “He’s a beacon that draws everyone in and they don’t even know until they’re stuck. We call it the Jimin Effect.”

That… made sense. Jeongguk had been drawn to him since day one. Hearing that it was natural, in a sense, took a small weight off his shoulders. It wasn’t strange to be pulled to his presence every time he entered the room.

“This Effect of his takes some time to get used to.” He glanced at him. “Especially for those who haven’t known him for long. Sometimes he comes on a little too strong to people he’s particularly fond of when he’s still learning their boundary lines. People get… confused.”

“What are you getting at?”

Yoongi fiddled with the sleeves of his hoodie, usual confidence sliding away.

“You’re not… encouraging him, are you?”

Jeongguk blinked. Inhaled and bit his tongue. Counted up to and backwards from ten.

Yep, no. Those words pissed him off.

“No, I’m not encouraging him,” he hissed through his teeth, a last ditch effort to not blow up in Yoongi’s face. Jeongguk didn’t think he had anger issues, but this past week made him reconsider that. “I don’t know why everyone’s worried I’ll cheat on my wife.” My wife included.

“I didn’t say that.”

“The insinuation was strong enough.” He tugged a hand free to mess with his hair. Occupied hands helped him focus.

“Okay, fine,” Yoongi hissed back. “I’ve seen more than one straight man question themselves when it comes to Jimin, and I don’t think you’re as blind to his physical appeal as you want to claim.”

“What, because I think he’s cute?” he burst out, the other hand flying free. “Is it a sin to notice that someone is attractive? I think the same thing about you! Jin-hyung and Taehyung too! Hoseok-hyung pointed it all out the other night; yeah, I’m not blind. But that doesn’t mean-”

“No, it doesn’t mean you have feelings for him,” Yoongi cut him off while finishing his thought. “It’s not a sin to notice the physical and emotional traits that make someone attractive. That’s how you build relationships, platonic or romantic. You find the things you like about them that endear you to them. Why do you think this is so difficult for Jimin? He didn’t have a baseline of who you were and now that he’s learning all these things that are attractive to him, you’ve become a walking green flag of everything he wants in a partner at the same time he’s learning how to be your friend. And that’s hard.”

Swallowing became impossible. What was he supposed to do about that? Try to be as unattractive physically and emotionally as possible? He was sure he managed that. Jeongguk wasn’t in tip top shape like before. He ugly cried in front of him. They’d argued. He’d seen him angry, anxious, and petty. Just tonight he saw him being a sore loser.

But it only made him laugh. He wiped away his tears. He gave him room to feel before discussing his emotions with him. Everything he’d tackled with calm understanding and patience. Sure he had his moments too, but… they’d worked through them easily.

“He said he had practice doing this,” he rasped, anger deflated like a sad floppy balloon. “Being friends with someone who’s not available.”

Yoongi shook his head, sighing exasperatedly as he muttered, “Jimin, you idiot.”

“Jimin’s not an idiot.”

“In this case, yeah, he is.” He held up a hand, silencing Jeongguk’s immediate protest. “See, this right here. You need to stop being so nice to him.”

“You want me to start being an asshole?” The jagged edges of his bitten fingernails cut into his skin from the brief imagination of doing such a thing. “Because that isn’t happening. He doesn’t deserve that. Not from me—not from anyone. I never want to be the reason he isn’t smiling.”

He delivered the words with too much emotion. It surprised him how true they were. He didn’t want Jimin to stop smiling. The bright one that made his eyes disappear and put his crooked tooth on display. If he laughed in the middle of it, that made it all the better. The small moments he’d seen him unhappy physically pained him. It sent a single in his brain to do anything and everything to bring the smile back.

Yoongi stared at him, narrow eyes wide as they could go. With slightly parted lips, he was the epitome of shock. Jeongguk’s fingers curled tighter.

“What?”

That startled him out of it. He pressed his lips tightly together, shaking his head. It pushed his hair into his face.

“You don’t even realize.”

“Realize what?”

“For all the self searching you did in college-” Jeongguk’s blood ran cold. “-you clearly didn’t search long enough.”

“You were listening.”  He trembled with the knowledge. He hadn’t shared that with anyone before. Not even Heejin. He shared it with Jimin because he trusted him. And Yoongi had taken something private and thrown it in his face without a care of sensitivity. He didn’t even look guilty. “Why would you say that? I’m not- I don’t like men. You don’t know me.”

Since they began this conversation, Yoongi softened. Something close to sympathy morphed his expression.

“Listen,” he murmured. “I don’t like forcing labels down other people's throat. I don’t like telling them what they are and what they aren’t. Who they prefer. Because I don’t know them. I don’t know you." He adjusted his hair, making his expression clearer. “But believe me when I say that the way you look when you see or talk about Jimin-” His face twisted into something pained and desperate. “-you look exactly how I feel.”

Present tense. Jeongguk’s heart dropped out of his chest.

“You’re still in love with him.”

Jeongguk’s breathless realization caused the man standing next to him to close his eyes.

“I always will be.” 

Instead of bogged down, he sounded weightless. Uncumbered.

“A part of me will always be in love with him. It’s impossible not to be.” Shuttered eyes turned into a bitter, low lidded gaze. “But no matter how much I want us to be like Namjoon and Jin, I wouldn’t make him happy.”

He didn’t know where he found the courage to ask. “Why not?”

“Because as good as we were, I’m not what he needs. He needs someone who will give him compliments when they think them. He needs someone who's willing to be cheesy and embarrass the shit out of him because he’s a sucker for those things even though he won’t admit it at the moment. He needs someone who will do something big and grand, like take him to Disneyland for an anniversary or a birthday. He need someone who will give as much as he does instead of just take all the time.”

The words were pointed, a warning. He thought Jeongguk was taking too much and not giving anything in return. Yoongi was talking under a romantic lens, but Jeongguk knew he talked about his and Jimin's friendship in that moment. He knew. He knew and he tried to give back, but more and more things cropped up where he didn't have the opportunity. Heaven knows Jeongguk wanted to thank Jimin with more than words for everything he'd done for him recently.

Yoongi exhaled shakily, shoving his hands into his hoodie. In his pocket, Jeongguk’s phone vibrated. He silenced it without a second thought.

“I don’t make him happy because I always give him sometimes and he needs always.”

Paring what he heard with the words echoing in Namjoon’s voice, he understood.

“You loved him enough to let him go.”

“I did.” He tilted his head back, thunking softly against the wall at his back. “And even though I will always love him romantically, I love him more as a friend despite the regret and what ifs. I wouldn’t date him again, no matter how damn beautiful he is, inside and out. And I know he feels the same about me. We’d go to the end of the world for each other.”

He fixed his eyes on him, sad and piercing.

“That’s exactly why you need to figure yourself out. It's better to work through whatever you're feeling instead of suppressing it and ignoring it. Because if you continue like this, you might end up doing something that hurts Jimin. And I'm not nice to people who hurt my friends."

Jeongguk felt sick.

“I told you-” he hated how his voice shook. His phone vibrated again. It was silenced. “-I don’t like guys.”

“Yet you knew exactly what I was talking about when I said that you look at Jimin like I do,” Yoongi whispered. Jeongguk opened his mouth to protest, already shaking his head, but Yoongi cut him off. “I’m not saying you’re in love with him. But from where I’m standing it doesn’t look platonic.”

“Stop it,” he rasped. The cement may as well have been crumbling under his feet. “You can’t say that. I’m married-”

“Who fucking cares?” Yoongi snapped. Jeongguk jerked back, shocked. “I don’t give a shit if you’re married or not because if that’s the only excuse you’re holding onto so you don’t admit that you’re attracted to men then I’m tossing it out the window. You owe it to yourself and your wife to be honest. Lying to yourself-”

“I’m not lying to myself!” Despite the anger, it came out wet. “What do you want me to do? Do you want me to walk up to him and kiss him? Because that’s obviously going to clear up any confusion! I’m sure my wife won’t mind, right?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Yoongi snarled. “That would ruin him and you know it. Jimin’s not a cheater.”

“Neither am I,” he growled back. He pushed off the wall, restraining himself from crowding into Yoongi’s space and using his height against him. “I don’t know what your intentions were, but let me make this clear. I am not intentionally encouraging Jimin in any way, shape, or form to have feelings for me. I wouldn’t do that to him or to myself. I’m in a happy-” that’s a lie “-committed-” liar “-relationship with the love of my life-” you liar “and I plan to stay that way. As long as I’m married to Heejin, whether or not I like men is the very least of my concerns.”

Yoongi glared up at him, tongue clearly caught between his teeth. Holding himself back or frustrated that he didn’t know how to respond. Jeongguk scoffed, almost disappointed in his lack of retort.

“I’ll see you back inside.”

His phone began vibrating again. Jeongguk ripped it out of his pocket, a scowl in place. He expected it to be Heejin because she had fabulous timing, but to his surprise it was his dad. They must have been able to see a doctor and already gotten results. That relieved him. In no time Heeseung would be back to 100%.

“Jeongguk, wait-”

He turned the corner just as someone came around the other side. Jeongguk yelped in surprise, the two of them stumbling from impact. His phone slipped from his hands and he lunged for it at the same time the other person did. They ended up catching it together, Jeongguk’s hand wrapped around theirs.

Jimin stared up at him, full lips parted in breathless surprise.

And Jeongguk just… stood there. Stunned.

“Nice catch,” he chirped, lifting his—their—hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you but you and Yoongi-hyung were taking your time getting back.” He tilted his head, glancing between them. “Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” Yoongi hestated. “We were just talking.”

“That’s… good.” Jimin’s brows furrowed. “Jeongguk, are you alright? Your phone’s not in danger of cracking against the pavement anymore. You can let go of my hand-”

They both jumped as it began vibrating again, insistently crying for an answer. Jeongguk moved his hand enough that Jimin could retreat.

“S-sorry,” he stuttered. “I need to take this.”

“We’ll meet you back inside then. I’ll make sure to save you some food.”

He nodded numbly, pressing his phone to his ear.

“Hey dad-”

“Jeongguk.”

It was like a bucket of ice had been dumped down his back, the chilly pebbles bumping along every ridge of his spine. His fingers and toes curled. That tone. He didn’t know what it was. He didn’t know why he sounded like that. Like he was on the verge of telling him-

“Son, I need you to sit down, okay?”

“Dad. What’s going on?”

“Are you sitting down?”

“No, I’m not sitting down,” his voice broke. “Why do you sound like that?”

“Jeongguk?”

The concerned call came from behind him. Standing at the doors of the restaurant, Jimin had a hand curled around the handle, pausing. Yoongi, half inside, poked his head back out. Jimin ushered him back in with a few words Jeongguk couldn’t hear before stepping back to him.

“Jeongguk, please-” his dad’s voice strained in a way it never had before. “-just trust me on this.”

Jimin stopped in front of him, mouth twisted into a concerned line. Jeongguk reached for him, taking his hand with trembling fingers. He allowed it, adjusting the grip and leaning closer to listen in on the conversation.

“Okay,” he lied. “I’m sitting.”

His dad exhaled.

“Your mom and I are in the hospital-”’

“What?” he gasped. Jimin made a noise beside him and became a warm line against his side. His eyes were wide, terror dilating his pupils. “Are you okay? Is mom-”

It hit him.

“Appa,” he nearly couldn’t speak. “Where’s my son?”

His dad’s breathing hitched. Jeongguk’s knees trembled. His grip on Jimin became painful. He didn’t know if it was because of how hard he clutched him, or if Jimin was the one causing the bruising.

“He’s in the emergency room. His appendix ruptured.”

Notes:

I am. So sorry.
I genuinely did not have any sort of medical injury in the plans when I began writing this. But as I began the arc where Jeongguk started hanging out with the guys it came to mind and... well. It stuck.

1) I have no idea if there is an arcade version of mini golf, but if there isn't, let's pretend that there is.

2) I don't write a lot of jealous JK, so it's always awkward when I do.

3) It is now confirmed, yoonmin was a thing and didn't work out.

4) I honestly don't agree with what Yoongi did here. (I say that but I wrote it? Confusion) If he had the whole story it would be more acceptable, but with the knowledge he's working with it's a little... cruel. I sort of get it? Admitting, working through, and accepting a part of yourself is better than suppressing it, but I feel like it could have been said in a better way.
I also want to clarify, Yoongi *does* like Jeongguk. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but he does, I swear.

5) This line "you’ve become a walking green flag of everything he wants in a partner at the same time he’s learning how to be your friend. And that’s hard." is inspired by bloveschimmy_kookie! (surprise lol) They said something in the comments back in chapter 15 and it stuck with me. I mention it because I feel like (vain of me I know) that's a line that hitttts.

6) It's not me if there's not at least one dramatic cliff hanger in my story. :D

7) Soooooooo, I actually have a buffer now, so next chapter is already written ;)
just in case anyone was worried they'd have to wait more than a week.

Chapter 22

Notes:

You'll need these items before reading this chapter.

Toothpaste, a box of tissues, and a punching bag.

Read on.

(Also. This.
The Door - Teddy Swims)

His earliest memory as a child was looking out at the ocean, watching the push and pull. When a wave swelled, fat and heavy with power, he’d clung to his father’s pant leg, scared that if he let go it would crash down and sweep him away. It broke before it got even close to the shore. He remembered his dad laughing, crouching beside him, taking his hand, and murmuring, “You don’t have to be scared, my deer. Appa is here to protect you.”

In middle school he’d gotten cornered by a group of older boys. He clutched his books tighter to his chest as they shoved him around, sticking their hands in his pockets to look for loose change. He knew he should run. Fight back. Scream and yell for help. But his legs were paralyzed. His entire body shook and trembled. No sound left his lips until one of them got frustrated enough to hit him. Jeongguk’s yell of pain drew attention to them in the alley and his older brother had been walking past at that exact moment, looking for him. He decided then and there that he didn’t like violence. Even when it was used to protect him, it still scared him. Because of the blood on Junghyun’s knuckles, the snarl of his lips, the fire in his eyes.

The blood drained from his face the first time a boy confessed to him on the stairs to the roof his first year of high school. The only time Jeongguk ever heard of boys liking boys was when his classmates and friends snickered about faggots under their breath. He’d never been called the word before, but there was a boy in his class a year ago that routinely had it hissed at him. Jeongguk knew it wasn’t a good word. Although his voice was strong as he turned him down, his insides quivered with anxiety that somehow this would get out. Someone would hear about it and his name would be dropped behind hands followed by that word. That evening, when his eomma asked him what was wrong at the dinner table, Jeongguk couldn’t help but spill the story. He remembered the thin press of his mother’s lips as she told him, “I don’t ever want to hear that word in this house. No matter what other people say, it’s normal to like boys just as it’s normal to like girls.”

After stepping off the plane in the Orlando, Florida airport, he spent nearly three hours in the bathroom, huddled in a stall as he fought to get his breathing under control. Every person that entered, laughing and speaking in a foreign language that Jeongguk hardly understood caused his stomach to curl tighter and tighter. That feeling didn’t disappear for nearly an entire month, only easing the first time he managed to get through a stilted conversation with Isaiah without asking him to speak slower, repeat himself, or fumbling for the translator on his phone.

And then there was Heejin. He had so many of those moments with her. The first time he kissed her. The first time she stayed over. When he whispered I love you and she stammered, “I’m not there yet.” When he got down on one knee, his parents are you sure echoing on repeat in his head. Jeongguk would never forget the fight they had on their honeymoon, the first and only time Jeongguk ever walked away from her, slamming the door to their hotel room closed. He slunk back in far too early in the morning, heart pounding as he peered into the bedroom. Relieved when he saw the curl of her body against the mattress; that she stayed. And then, kicking the box in their home. Seeing the recognition, guilt, and shame.

His children. Coming to home to Heejin pacing, pacing, and pacing, unable to tell him what was wrong and only pointing to the bathroom. Picking up the foreign object that he took too long to recognize as a pregnancy test and even longer to register what the two lines meant even though it was engraved into the side of the tiny thing. The first time he held Heeseung. Fed him. Changed him. When he almost rolled off the changing table and Jeongguk just barely swept him into his arms. The first time he was sick, skin feverish and mouth parted with never ending cries. Walking and falling. Swallowing a coin. Jeongguk could never forget those long weeks at the NICU, his hand shaking where he laid it against Jungwon, fingers parted in three different places to accommodate the tubes. The one time his heart stopped when Jeongguk was there, feeling the life in his arms disappear as nurses ripped him away from his son.

Fear was something Jeongguk was very acquainted with. The emotion hung in his shadow, ever present no matter how broadly he smiled, how long he distracted himself, or how loud he laughed. At every quiet moment it raised its head,  grinning a toothless, sickening smile. It called upon friends, inviting them to join it in the shadows to torment him.

As Jeongguk burst into the hospital, having raced from the airport, he’d never been so encompassed by the emotion before. His eyes raked across the room as his feet took him to the front desk. He faltered at the relieved, wet, sob of his name, whirling to find his mother standing from a chair with Jungwon in her arms. He stood at her side in seconds, squeezing her and his son to his chest. Oh so careful, but overwhelmed with desperation to have his family in his hands. To feel their warmth, their hearts, their breathing.

He pulled away, not at all satisfied, but needing to see his mother’s face. She trembled but didn’t cry.

“Mom, are you okay? Where’s dad? Where’s-” he couldn’t finish, the sentence hitching out in a barely contained sob. Where’s my son? He wanted to ask, panic building. Clumsy hands reached for his second-born, his mother handing him over easily. Clutching him to his chest, he buried his face into his hair and breathed, unable to stop the tears that had been building, building, and building-

“-appa is talking with the doctors but he’s been out of surgery for almost an hour-”

“I need to see him,” he gasped, whirling towards the front desk.

Her hands gripped his shoulder and arm, holding him back. Jeongguk jerked away from her touch. She grabbed him again, forcibly turning him to face her.

“-listen, Jeongguk-ah, listen to me,” she pleaded, dark eyes shining with unshed tears. Her fingers trembled against his skin. All he could see was the grey in her hair, the lines at her eyes and mouth. “You need to calm down. You need to breathe.”

“Mom,” he begged. A sob. “Please. I just need to see him-”

“And you will. I promise you that you will. I promise that he’s fine.”

“I need to make sure he’s okay-” he attempted to wiggle away from her, but she held fast. With as weak as he felt, it wasn’t hard for her to force him into a chair, Jungwon giggling as he bounced in his lap. Hearing him laugh dragged Jeongguk’s eyes down, where he clutched him tightly to his chest. The tears spilled over again as he pulled him closer, muffling a sob into his hair. His son smacked at his head, fingers clenching and pulling his hair, but Jeongguk didn’t care.

He held one third of his world again. Another part was just out of reach, behind a door in one of these halls. The other was-

“Eomma.”

Jeongguk lifted his head just in time to watch Jimin crash into his mother, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her tight. The mask she’d put on for Jeongguk shattered before his eyes as she clung to him, pressing her face into his shoulder. He encouraged it with a hand on her hair, radiating concern. “Where’s abeoji?”

“H-he’s with Heeseung. We can go into the room soon but-” she shuddered, and Jimin shushed her softly. Held her closer. Comforted her. Jeongguk’s mom, the second most important—no. The most important woman in his life.

And Jeongguk’s heart. Just.

Felt.

Everything.

---

It wasn’t right. Seeing him like this.

Heeseung lay motionless and still against white expressionless sheets. They were tucked up to his chin, barely rising and falling with his tiny chest. His son wasn’t a baby. Nor a toddler. He was a kid at this point, but weren’t kids bigger than this? He looked far too small, swallowed by the room around him. Jeongguk’s fingers twitched in time with the lazy beeping of the heart monitor, the other clammy against his son’s hand. His motionless hand.

Heeseung never stopped moving. Whether awake or asleep, he was always fidgeting, jittery and excitable. His attempts at holding still were accompanied by toe taps and finger tugs. He was never this quiet. Always humming under his breath, shrieking with laughter or weaving a story. He shuffled and snored.

Today, he was quiet. Silent.

Cheeks usually flushed with a healthy color were pale and sickly. Jeongguk had helped prop him up earlier so a nurse could change the bandages and gauze wrapped around his stomach. He had to push his eyes to the ceiling so he wouldn’t be sick, stomach revolting at the results of the open appendectomy. After that, he didn’t feel as though he was present. Floating through the hours without the passage of time happening at all.

“Jeongguk.”

He didn’t take his eyes off of Heeseung, but tilted his head to show he was listening. A hand fell on his shoulder, large and warm. His dad. He’d been the calmest out of all of them, but his eyes were always glassy with tears.

“Your eomma and I are taking Jungwon back to the hotel with us so he can sleep. Are you going to stay here?”

He nodded, a simple jerk of his chin. Jeongho’s hand lifted to brush through his hair, warm, comforting, and nearly breaking him all over again. A tear escaped when he leaned over, kissing the top of his head. Jeongguk swiped it away as he moved to the back of the room, whispering something to Jimin. He’d been with him the entire time, watching Jungwon as  he crawled around on the floor and holding him when he was tired.

His dad left the room, Jungwon passed out in his arms and drooling. A third of his world left, leaving an empty space. Jeongguk’s fingers curled tighter into his palm, the fist beginning to shake. Behind him, Jimin shifted and sighed, the chair he sat in creaking.

A nurse came by, informing them that visiting hours were over in fifteen minutes, but Jeongguk was allowed to stay because he was the parent and guardian of Heeseung.

Five minutes before visiting hours ended, Jimin got up from his chair. Jeongguk watched from the corner of his eye as he stood next to him at his son's bedside. Tenderly, he brushed aside Heeseung’s dark hair, tucking the strands behind his ear. He lifted his chin, catching the tail end of a hopelessly ardent expression before it was tucked away.

Jimin stepped back.

Jeongguk grabbed his hand, croaking, “Stay.”

“Jeongguk,” Jimin whispered after a moment of silent shock. “I can’t. Visiting hours are over and I’m not-”

“Stay. Please.”

He licked his lips. Pressed them into a thin line. Hesitated and shifted on his feet. Jeongguk’s grip tightened on his hand when he attempted to pull out of his grasp. Jimin huffed, the corners of his mouth lifting in amusement.

“I’m just going to move a chair, Jeongguk.”

He didn’t have the emotional energy to be embarrassed. He let go. Jimin pulled over a chair. Jeongguk tugged it closer after Jimin had already sat down, earning a raised eyebrow. It lowered when he tangled their hands together again, Jeongguk’s sweaty and clammy one against Jimin’s warm and dry. When the nurse checked in on them later, no doubt being alerted Jimin hadn’t signed out, Jeongguk stared at her hard enough that not a single complaint left her mouth. She simply checked up on Heeseung, wrote a note on her clipboard, and left. Jimin let out the breath he’d been holding.

Jeongguk simply felt.

---

Jimin’s head was on his shoulder again, heavy, familiar, and comforting. The plane ride felt like it had been years ago, but that was the first time they’d been physically close like this. Not for the first time, Jeongguk ran over their relationship in his head. He didn't believe in things like fate, but Jimin slid into his life at the one time there was an opening for him to focus on people other than his children. Other than his wife. His vision was no longer contained to his box of three that he’d locked himself in until Heejin broke it open and crawled out. Now that box expanded, welcoming his parents and Jimin’s friends. His friends too, now. He couldn’t deny it after reading the slew of messages left for him from the others. Well wishings for his son, more than enough private call or text if you need anything ’s, and even a simple yet heartfelt I’m sorry, from Yoongi.

He didn’t have the energy to reply to them all, clicking off his phone and refocusing his eyes on his sleeping son. Jeongguk had been in and out of sleep all night. It wasn’t easy to sleep on a chair and he’d often jolt awake with his heart racing and hand searching until he clasped Heeseung’s. Sometimes, comforting hums would buzz against his ear, another hand in his squeezing after his jumps. Everytime he woke up, he was there. Everytime he woke up, he’d stay awake with him until his chin bobbed back towards his chest and his eyes failed to stay open. Only then, in the fluttering snapshots he managed to catch behind his slow blinking lids, did he see his eyes close with the intent to go back to sleep.

This time though, Jeongguk woke up without disturbing the man next to him. Jimin stayed asleep, brown hair a nest against his shoulder, and face lax. The persistent line of worry between his brows smoothed out, lips slightly parted. In the chilly, sterile room, Jeongguk was more than aware of his heat against his side where they’d leaned to the edges of their seats to be closer, seeking comfort. His hand hung limp with sleep. Jeongguk didn’t know what time it was, but the room was barely lit by the soft blue light brushing the floor under the curtains. Early morning, probably.

Jimin didn’t show signs of waking as Jeongguk carefully shifted away from him. It was challenging to shift his head off his shoulder and make it lean against the back of the chair, aided by Jimin’s slumped positioning. He hated how awkward it looked, knowing his neck would hurt, but hopefully he’d be back in time so it would not take too much effect. With a lingering glance at Heeseung, he left the room.

After taking care of desperate needs, Jeongguk wandered around until he found a general map of the hospital. Finding the cafeteria, it was just opening up as he slipped inside. The staff gave him half smiles as he quietly perused their options. Once he’d made his selections, he worked his way back to his son’s room, carefully balancing the coffee and the boxes. Worming open the door, he made it two steps into the room before stopping with a sharp, yet quiet, inhale.

Jimin was sitting up in his chair, rubbing his neck with a poorly concealed grimace. His eyes were gritty with sleep, face puffy, and Jeongguk had never seen his hair in such a disarray.

“Hey,” he exhaled. He’d held his breath too long. Jimin blinked up at him, tired, confused, and half awake. Whatever he said in response didn’t make it to a word, remaining a prehistoric means of communication. Jeongguk chuckled, the first time he’d laughed since… since. He wordlessly offered the coffee carrier. Jimin made another noise, this one much happier but still a grunt, and took one of the cups. Grabbing the other, Jeongguk set the boxes down in his chair, never wanting to sit in it again. “There’s better food if you want to go down to the cafeteria and eat there, but I grabbed what I thought you’d like. I’m sorry about your neck, by the way. I thought I’d get back in time to move you back to my shoulder.”

“I think it’s caused by sleeping on your shoulder,” he rumbled, low and gruff. “Still hard as rock.”

Jeongguk laughed again. “Right. Six out of ten. How could I forget?”

Jimin looked almost startled that he remembered, a pleased smile curling at the edges of his mouth. His fingers squeezed around his coffee cup, trying so hard not to-

“Daddy?”

Jeongguk’s head snapped to the side, all other thoughts, feelings, and emotions whisking away as he zeroed in on his son. Whose eyes were open. Big, beautiful browns squinting at him through a haze of pain.

He dropped his coffee.

“Heeseung,” he choked out, nearly tripping over himself to lean over his bedside. He grasped at his arm, desperate but oh so gentle. “Heeseung, buddy how are you-”

He lost what he was saying when his son burst into tears, arms trembling and shaking as he lifted them. Desperate to be touched. Desperate to be held. He wasted no time sitting at the edge and taking his son into his arms. Heeseung wailed against his chest, a sobbing, snotty mess of stuttering, dad, I missed you, it hurts, I’m scared.

Jeongguk almost couldn’t handle it all. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to by himself. But even though his focus was on the boy in his arms, he was distinctly aware of Jimin standing beside him with a hand on his back. Comforting him. Giving him strength. Maybe gathering his own, because Jeongguk knew it wasn’t easy for him to see Heeseung like this. A nightmare was nothing compared to this. And if Jimin was crushed by a nightmare, no doubt he’d experience stronger emotions now.

But just like then, they stood there together. He patiently watched Jeongguk soothe his son, Heeseung calm down, and provided a bright smile when Heeseung noticed him with a squeaked, “Uncle Jiminie!” Jeongguk shifted to the side so Jimin could sit down as well. The hospital bed groaned ominously, but none of them cared.

He watched Jimin ruffle Heeseung’s hair. Watched him accept Heeseung’s hug with surprise and watery eyes.

He felt-

He felt.

---

Heeseung and Jeongguk eyed the jell-o with trepidation.

“Dad, why does it wiggle like that?” he whispered, poking at it with his spoon. Someone snorted—it sounded suspiciously like his mother.

“I’d provide you with an answer if I had one, buddy.”

“It looks weird.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“Jeongguk, don’t tell him that or he won’t want to eat it,” his dad scolded. It didn’t have much of an effect as he smiled. He also fought against Jungwon’s attempts at sticking his fingers in his nose.

“I don’t think I like jell-o,” Heeseung decided with a frown, poking at the green glob again. His dad only laughed when he shot him a panicked look.

“You’ve had jell-o before, buddy. I always make the red kind.”

“This is green,” he pointed out patiently, as if Jeongguk was a slow learner. “Green is poisonous.”

“Is it now?” Jimin leaned over from his place on the other side of the bed. Behind him, the nurse gave another disapproving glare as she left the room. They’d been increasing in frequency the longer they ignored her polite yet pointed, coughs each time the bed creaked. She didn’t tell them to move though. Clearly she understood a child's delicacy of needing comfort. “Should we check?”

He took the spoon, cut into the glob, and plopped it into his mouth. Heeseung’s gasp mingled with another sound, one that Jeongguk’s brain didn’t register yet. Jimin tapped the spoon against his lips, thoughtful, as he chewed and swallowed. They waited with baited breath.

“Hmm. It seems fine to-” Jimin’s eyes went wide, a hand flying to his mouth. The five-year-old gasped again as Jimin slumped to the side, tongue sticking out in a dramatic imitation of death. It was actually a little morbid.

“Uncle Jiminie?” Heeseung whispered, horrified. Tiny hands grasped at his arm, shaking him. “Uncle, are you-”

Jimin jolted up, shoving his face into Heeseung’s with a rather terrifying, “Boo.”

Heeseung jerked back with a squeal of fear that morphed into uncontrollable giggles that the adults joined him in. His laughter turned into a wince as he put a hand over his stomach. Jimin’s wicked grin melted into concern, but Heeseung still smiled, so… it was okay.

“The jell-o isn’t poisonous,” Jeongguk announced. “Jimin’s fine, so let’s eat, okay buddy?”

His nose scrunched, but he obligingly took the spoon from Jimin. It dropped with a gasp as he zeroed in on something over Jeongguk’s shoulder. He turned just as Heeseung shouted,

“Mommy!”

Jeongguk froze.

Heejin leaned against the wall. She looked exactly as he remembered her. Long black hair, prominent curves, and a gentle face. Beautiful, despite her frown. Her arms were crossed, expression unreadable as she stared back at him. He could see her thinking and processing.

And then she looked away. Focused on her son with a smile as she pushed off the wall.

“My baby, how are you feeling?”

As she crossed the room, Jimin gracefully, but almost frantically got off the bed. That put him standing right next to Heejin for a split second. He watched their eyes meet, hold, and break as she turned back to her son and Jimin backed up, sitting himself right next to Jeongguk’s father. Jungwon reached for him, fingers clutching at his shirt.

“Fine!” Heeseung puffed up his chest as if no one could see the red rim of his eyes. “The doctor told me I was very good during my sur-ger-ree.” He sounded it out carefully, looking up at her for confirmation and praise. She didn’t say anything for a second too long, and Jeongguk jumped in.

“Good job, buddy.”

His voice sounded weird to his own ears. He felt weird. Off-balance. He’d heard enough about the twilight zone to know he was in it right now. He nearly couldn’t breathe, the tension was too thick. Could anyone else feel it? In his chest, his heart raced faster than the questions cropping up in his head. Heejin was here. In the same room as him. Smiling at his son, sitting at his bedside, affectionately brushing his hair behind his ears. Why was she here? How long had she been here? What about her job? What about-?

“That’s good. Do you know what else good boys do?” He hung onto her words, nearly vibrating with anticipation. “Good boys eat their jell-o.”

The anticipation fled with a slump of his shoulders. Dejected, Heeseung grumbled, “Do I have to?”

“Yes, Heeseung.” It came out with an edge of sharpness. An edge that tightened Jeongguk’s shoulders and set his jaw. Couldn’t she have patience with him? He asked a simple question- “Your Uncle Jiminie can’t eat it all for you.”

Something in Jeongguk snapped.

“Heeseung, please eat your jell-o,” he forced out as he stood, grabbing Heejin’s arm at the same time. She glared at him as he tugged her to her feet.

“Where are you going?” he asked, anxiety at the edges. “Dad-”

“Mom and I are just going outside to talk, okay buddy? We’ll be back soon-”

“But mom-”

“Heeseung,” his mom interjected. “They’ll just be a few minutes. While they’re gone, why don’t you tell me about your friend. You were telling Halamoni about him the other day, remember?”

“Yeah. Tucker. But-”

“Ah yes! Tucker. That was his name-”

With his mom’s distraction, Jeongguk pulled Heejin out of the room, glancing at Jimin as he did so. He was entirely too still, no color in his face, as he stared at the floor. Ashamed. Like he’d done something wrong. All because of Heejin’s bitter Uncle Jiminie. Jeongguk’s grip on her tightened. He stalked down the hall.

Everything around him was blurry as he weaved through the hospital. Caught in his grip, Heejin followed amicably, but hissed at him under her breath. He ignored her until he found what he was looking for, the place he’d briefly seen on the map while looking for the cafeteria.

Safe in the small hospital garden, he let go of her, whirling to face her.

“What the fuck was that?” he snapped.

“What?!” she hissed back, rubbing at her arm. Jeongguk knew he hadn’t grabbed her hard enough to hurt—he wasn’t a monster—but it was rougher than she was used to.

“Don’t pretend. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He tore a hand through his hair, livid. “Not even three minutes—three minutes!—before you started picking a fight. And with Jimin of all people-”

“I wasn’t picking a fight!”

“Like hell you weren’t! Have you forgotten that I know you?! Do you not think I’ll recognize your tone? You were practically foaming at the mouth with jealousy and bitterness. He didn’t even do anything-”

“Okay, fine!” she yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. “Yes! I’m jealous! Because I just got here from the airport after taking a fourteen hour flight and the first thing I see when I walk into the room is him surrounded by my family with all eyes on him and you—you especially-!”

“Of course we were all looking at him! I don’t know how long you were there, but he did something funny to help Heeseung eat-”

She laughed. Cold and cruel, it had no place here. Not while they were standing in a garden filled with flowers bursting at the stems. This entire argument didn’t fit here. Ugliness against beauty.

“Oh yeah, it was absolutely hilarious!” It drowned in sarcasm. “You all were dying with laughter. He sure seems to fit in. Perfect replacement for your fuck up of a wife-”

“What the hell are you talking about?! Jimin isn’t a replacement. How could you say that about him? How could you say that about yourself?! No one can replace you!”

She had a retort ready. He knew. But it died at something he said. Their conversation came to a standstill, halting as she stared up at him, wide eyed and opened mouth. The anger still burned, but flickered with confusion. “Heej-”

It choked out when she grabbed him by the collar, dragging him down into a messy, heated kiss. He returned it on autopilot, hands finding her hips to drag her closer. Tilting down for more contact, breathing sharply through his nose. He almost groaned with how much he missed this-

Except.

He didn’t miss this at all.

Because there was a distinct difference between kissing her because she was Heejin, his beautiful, lovely wife, and kissing her because he liked kissing. Because it felt good. Because it was a way to soothe, bury, and forget instead of face the jury. It was a distraction from what they actually thought, felt, and needed to say. They’d done this one too many times. Abused it when it should have been something that only happened once or twice in moments of emotional immaturity.

He drew back. “Heejin-”

She chased, rising to her tiptoes, hands sliding into his hair to urge him back down. Pathetically, he allowed it. Kissed her again. Twice. A third that took his breath away. A fourth that- that-

Burned. Tasted like salt. Twisted his gut in the most unpleasant way because he didn’t want this.

He didn’t want her.

His hands feel from her hips. He stopped reciprocating. He stood there, motionless, until she stopped too. Until she drew away from a hard, pleading kiss that asked please that he ignored.

“Jeongguk,” she whispered, confused. “Why? Why are you crying?”

It wasn’t two questions. It wasn't one. The second was pointed but the first held all the ones unasked because of fear. 

Why did you stop? Why aren’t you enjoying this? Why doesn’t this change anything?

Why don’t you love me anymore?

Jeongguk wondered if he had the answer now.

He’d be oblivious to all the issues and problems their marriage was made of. He’d duct taped it together, humming happily and ignoring the ugly mess trying to break free. But they’d been in the back of his head. Bleeding through his subconscious and emotionally detaching from her. The moments he’d buried where she’d say or do something and he’d shove away all the negative emotions it caused. Because I love her I’ll work with it, he’d told himself. But it chipped away at his love. Chipped away at the person he’d fallen in love with.

For all the times he claimed to know her, he didn’t know her at all. He’d been too young, too eager to chase after what he felt. Wanted to hold onto her and never let her go. He didn’t know her back then and he didn’t know her now. They’d been working towards that. Of becoming like all the couples who made it five, ten, fifteen years and so on. But at some point they stopped. They stopped trying and told themselves they were complacent. They stopped growing and stopped wanting to.

When we stop wanting to grow with each other… that’s when ties should be cut.

He couldn't do it anymore.

“Heejin.” 

The tears stung against his face. She brushed them away with her thumbs, but he caught her hands. He lowered them, staring down at them. His hands were bare. Her’s held two rings. One on her pointer and the other on her right hand’s fourth. Their ring fingers held strips of paler skin, different from the rest. She followed his gaze, eyes flicking from hand to hand.

He let her go.

Her hands dropped to her side as her head lifted, eyes wide and glassy. He bit back a sob, entire body trembling.

“I don’t want my ring back."

Her tears spilled over, mouth parting in a silent no.

“I want to get divorced.”

Notes:

I always have a lot of thoughts of how things are going to go. There's a fifty percent chance that it actually happens the way I thought. And this, is not how I thought this would happen. But I am not at all upset that it did happen this way.

But I'm also really, really sad. The feels got to me on this one.

 

On a funnier note:

1) I can imagine the cheers as I post this chapter. Ya'll are finally getting the divorce you've been asking for since chapter one.

2) Guys.
I have had. REVELATIONS. While writing this chapter.
I need a man who will immediately go comfort my mom in a stressful situation. Like, forgetta bout me. Go hug my mom.
That's hot. Like. Seriously.

On an angrier note:
I've never had to delete comments before, but I'm sick and tired of reading stupidity and I don't want it in the comment section. So here's my final warning. If I get one more comment from a guest about Jimin being a cum dumpster, used cloth, or anything else of the sort, I'm turning guest comments OFF. This is NOT okay. Quit being immature children. It's a part of life for people to have relationships with different people throughout the course of their lifetime. It's realistic writing for Jimin to have been with other people. If you can't handle it, click off the story and go read something unrealistic then. I'm not keeping you here, nor do I really WANT you here.

So much for me being a nice person, I guess.

*Clarification for the people immediately jumping to conclusions

Usually when I talk about "being with other people" I'm talking about GENERALLY being in a relationship, not necessarily having sex. That's hardly where my mind goes because uhm? asexual? In addition to that, I'm not saying it's UNrealisitc for someone to be a virgin. Again, I fit that box.

It's not right to shame people for what kind of intimacy they have or don't have in their relationships. That's what I'm mad about.

Chapter 23

Notes:

I gift thee 7k of fluffangst.

Walk Thru Fire - Vicetone
(Doesn't fit the tone of the chapter, but listening to it afterwards? Gives you a certain someone's point of view)

His dad found him in the garden.

Neither of them spoke as they sat on the iron bench together. He had his knees drawn up to his chest, curled into himself. Pressure pulsed between his stinging eyes. A headache formed by crying too much. It was the only thing he could feel. The rest of him was numb. Empty. Emotionless. He couldn’t get her face out of his head. Couldn’t stop hearing the gut wrenching sobs, worse than the night he confronted her about her infidelity. It was almost enough to make him take it back. To tell her he didn’t mean it. The stress had built and made him say something he shouldn’t have. He almost reached out to gather her in his arms, intent to comfort her like he did that night.

His fingers did no more than twitch at his side.

In the end, they didn’t say anything else. She left with her head hanging low, long dark hair shadowing her face. Jeongguk wondered where she ended up. Did she return to Heeseung’s beside? Did she find some remote part of the hospital to release her emotions? Or did she catch a taxi to the airport and catch the first flight back to Florida? He didn’t know. He didn’t even know which one he would prefer.

Beside him, his father shifted. A warm arm wrapped gently across his back, easing him into his side. Jeongguk uncurled, burying his face into his shoulder, shaking with silent torment. The other arm came around his front, enveloping him. Jeongguk wasn’t small enough to fit in his dad’s arms anymore. He hadn’t been for a long time. That didn’t stop him from crawling half in his lap. They clung to each other, his dad’s scruff scratching against his temple.

“...Heejin’s inconsolable right now.”

The hand at his back smoothed up and down in comforting glides. She must have gone back to Heeseung’s room then. He didn’t know how to feel about her letting their son see her in such a state. How could he blame her though? Out of everyone in his family she had the closest relationship with his mother. She didn’t have anyone else to go to.

“I didn’t stick around to hear what she had to say.”

Jeongguk squeezed his eyes shut.

“I told her I wanted a divorce.”

The hand faltered. It rested heavy and warm against his back. Shifting, fingers clasped around his shoulder and arm, pulling him closer.

And everything spilled out.

He told his dad everything from the beginning, repeating parts he already knew. The issues they had in their marriage leading up to the day he picked up the phone, to arguments they had, and how unhealthy he realized they’d been the whole time.

“She didn’t even feel like she was doing anything wrong most of the time,” he said listlessly. “I don’t—did I mean nothing to her? At all? She claims to love me but I don’t… I don’t see it dad. I don’t feel it.” He hadn’t truly felt loved by his wife for a long, long time. He was never her priority. Not until now. He didn’t understand why she fought tooth and nail for them. She seemed content to have a double life. Didn’t that mean she was dissatisfied? Why would she fight to keep something that didn’t stop her from infidelity in the first place?

Jeongguk knew why he fought. He wanted his boys to grow up with their mother. He wanted them to have two parents in the home. Jungwon might not know what he missed, but Heeseung would. How could he take that from him? How could he expect him to jump between parents when he used to have both of them? The tired argument was moot at this point. Because Jeongguk was taking them from her. He was causing that rift despite deciding from the very beginning that he would mend things between him and Heejin. Because he didn’t want to fix it. He was tired of fixing it. Fixing them.

“Jeongguk, I—I don’t know what to say,” his dad rasped.

“I don’t expect you to.” He sniffled miserably. “This whole thing is… it’s a mess, appa. One big giant mess. And I—I made it messier.” It hit him now. The regret. The sinking in his stomach of what have I done?  “I-I’m overreacting. I haven’t even tried and I’m jumping to divorce-”

“No,” he cut him off almost viciously.

“But-”

He gasped as his dad hauled him up, forcing him to look at him. He’d never seen his father look as angry as he did now. If he wasn’t frozen he would have shrunken away.

“Listen to me,” he persisted. “You are not overreacting. Barring everything else you’ve said, the mere fact that she hadn’t contributed to the emotional safety of your children is enough in my book. You know how much I love your mother and if she was ever that absent in you and your brother’s lives like that I wouldn’t have hesitated to serve her divorce papers. Some courts would rule what she did as child neglect. Put that on top of her infidelity, communication issues, and unhealthy coping mechanisms…”

He watched with acute horror as a tear slipped down his father’s cheek.

“I don’t know how you stayed for as long as you have, Jeongguk,” he cried, his fingers trembling against Jeongguk’s biceps. “You’ve always been so patient and forgiving. You’ve given grace, second chances, and looked at the other side for someone who didn’t deserve it and you’re still-” he held his face in his hands. “You’re still telling yourself that you’re the problem. My son, stop villainizing yourself. You were never the problem.”

He shook his head almost frantically, fighting against it.

“I’m not—I’m far from perfect. I wasn’t good at communicating either-”

“You didn’t let your frustrations drive you into cheating,” he counteracted him. “You never let it get that far.”

“But I never noticed that-”

“Jeongguk.”

He shut his mouth. His dad rarely took that tone, but when he did, the rest of the Jeons knew to shut up and listen. His heart tore in two at the anguish his father showed him.

“Are you happy?”

He couldn’t look away. No place to hide. There wasn’t any chance of controlling his muscles to stop his expression from crumpling. Nothing stopped his dad from seeing him suffocate under the question. He’d only answered it in his head. Admitting it aloud became an impossible task, one he didn't want to attempt. Lying got him this far. It kept him together and allowed him to function. Being honest would take that away. It would stop him from being able to shuffle back to Heejin and apologize. Ask to try again.

“No.”

The word trembled on his lips. Sank as acid on his tongue, sliding through his throat down to his lungs and poisoning his heart. Three weeks ago it wouldn’t have crossed his mind. The road leading up to this point twisted and turned, ending at a drop off cliff that he didn’t know he was headed towards until he stepped off of it today. His attempts at gathering himself together from this experience shattered before him with one single question.

No tears fell. His throat closed up and he could feel the heat, but he’d cried enough.

“No,” he repeated, tongue loose. “I’m not happy. I haven’t—dad I haven’t been happy for a long time. I’m- my boys make me happy but as soon as they're gone I’m just—I don’t know what to do with myself. I felt so empty and lost this last week whenever I had a moment to myself.” He fought with his thoughts, sorting and trying to make sense of them. Trying to help him understand. “I feel like I’m constantly borrowing it from other people and when I try to find it in myself I’m just… empty.”

He didn’t expect the words to make his dad sob. He was helpless as he fell into him, both trying to hold him while relying on him to keep him upright.

“You made the right choice, Jeongguk,” he warbled. “Don’t go back on it. I know it’s hard, that it hurts-” It did. It hurt so bad. “But please . All I want is for you to be happy, and she doesn’t make you happy. And if you’re still not happy after all is said and done, we’ll figure out what to do. I’m so, so proud of you.”

All I want is for you to be happy.

It’s all his dad has ever wanted for him.

And Jeongguk wanted it too.

---

“I don’t think mommy and daddy are happy.”

His hand stilled on the half open door. Fingers splayed across the light wood, his intent to push it open disappeared. Straining his ears, he picked on a low hum. Jimin.

“Why do you say that, Heedeungie?”

He sounded tired, but had enough chipperness in his voice that told Jeongguk he was trying to fool Heeseung.

“They fight sometimes. And… mommy doesn’t really smile. People smile when they’re happy. Daddy smiles all the time but sometimes he doesn’t mean it. He means it when his eyes twinkle. They always twinkle when he smiles at me. Like Santa’s. Do you think my dad is Santa?”

“Well, your dad really likes banana milk so…”

They both giggled. Jeongguk’s hand fell from the door. He leaned against the wall instead, quietly listening. His lungs felt too small, but packed with air.

“Daddy smiles a lot around you.”

He didn’t know what shocked him more. The fact that Heeseung pulled the conversation back around after getting off topic or because of what he said. He held his breath as he waited for Jimin’s response.

“Hmm, probably because we’re friends.”

“Are daddy and mommy not friends?”

Jimin spluttered at that, half laughing. “Of course they’re friends! But your mommy and daddy are different friends than your daddy and I. They’re… special friends? Erm. Do you know what marriage is, Heeseung?”

“Yeah! I’m married.”

Jeongguk could have fainted right then and there.

“Are you now?”

“Uh-huh! Kenzi and I got married on the playground at school. She said I didn’t do it right though.” He could imagine the pouting frown. “Because I needed a ring. I asked daddy for his but he said it was his favorite.”

“Probably because that’s the ring that your mom gave him when they got married. Getting married means that you really, really love that person and want to spend the rest of your life with them,” Jimin explained softly.

“I don’t really wanna spend the rest of my life with Kenzi. She’s mean. She pushed me off the swings once.”

Jimin chuckled. “That’s okay, buddy. You have to do a lot more than give someone a ring and say you're married before it’s real.”

“Can you unmarry someone?”

The question hung for a second. Then two.

“Yes.”

Jimin didn’t elaborate. Jeongguk shifted his hand back to the door.

“How?”

Jimin sighed, hesitation clear. “Getting unmarried—or divorced; that’s what it’s called—is really complicated. It… it makes people sad. Or angry.”

“Then why would someone do it?”

Jeongguk pushed it open, quiet as he could, and peeked into the room. Heeseung sat up in his hospital bed, a hard tray hovering over him. A couple of coloring pages were stacked neatly next to a box of crayons. He held a green one in his fingers, head bent towards the paper in front of him. He sat on Jimin’s lap, the older man’s head hooked over his shoulder to watch his progress. But his eyes weren’t focused on the page. They were glazed over in thought, looking, but not really seeing.

“A lot of reasons. A big bad thing could have happened between them or an accumulation of smaller bad things.”

“Acume-acumeula… lation?”

“Yeah. It basically means to build up over time.” He tilted his head, almost nuzzling against his hair. Heeseung leaned back against his chest. Jeongguk could practically see his son glowing with contentment. He’d always loved being held. A cuddler at heart, at least at this age. “Sometimes it gets too hard for two people to stay together because of those bad things that they did to each other. Especially if they stop doing good things. It makes them unhappy with each other, and if they’re unhappy with each other then they don’t want to stay married. Because it’s something that’s supposed to be between people that are happy and in love with each other.”

Blinking, Jimin shook himself out of his haze, smiling weakly. “I don’t really think I should keep talking about this with you, Heeseung. This is something you should ask your mom or dad.”

Heeseung nodded, a little jerk of his chin. He pursed his lips.

“Uncle Jiminie? If mom and dad aren’t happy… does that mean they’ll get unmarried?”

Jeongguk couldn’t breathe. He knew Heeseung was smart, but at this moment, he wished he struggled intellectually. He picked up on the signs too well for a child his age. And with Jimin unknowingly leading him along… Jeongguk didn’t know how to talk to his son about this. He needed to come up with a plan with Heejin on how they would break the news to him, and there wasn’t even a chance as they both were dealing with the decision that happened less than two hours ago. Heejin hadn’t even agreed even though there wasn’t a chance that it wasn’t happening now. But everything was too fresh. Too new. How did this happen? How was everything snowballing into one cluster of a mess?

“Heeseung,” Jimin whispered, lost. “Why are you asking all these questions? Is it because your mom was crying?”

“Mommy doesn’t like crying,” he whispered back, shrinking against him. “So a big bad thing prolly happened. A lot of bad things happen. Daddy cries a lot too. He cried a lot before we went to grandma’s house. And he-”

“Thank you for telling me this, Heeseung,” Jimin interrupted. Stern, yet still kind. “But I think these are secrets.”

“Secrets?”

“Things your daddy probably doesn’t want other people to know because it breaks his privacy. Do you know what that means?”

“I think so. Daddy told me that I should always knock on mommy’s door before going inside.” He changed his voice slightly and it took Jeongguk a moment to realize he was trying to imitate him. “‘It’s her private space.’” He shrugged. “Mommy would get mad at me when I didn’t knock. She got really mad when she was on the phone. I thought it was daddy, but it didn’t sound like daddy.”

Jimin stilled. 

Shit, Jeongguk thought eloquently, frozen himself. This was the first time he’d heard of it. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jimin, watching him put together the pieces in his head. He watched him mouth a few choice swear words before readjusting Heeseung so he was somewhat facing him. Childish brown eyes blinked up at him, far too innocent to be involved in this mess.

“Heeseung, I need you to tell me something,” Jimin asked, hushed and quick. “Did your mommy ever bring unfamiliar people home?”

Jeongguk didn’t know what Jimin would do with that information, and he didn’t want to stay silent to find out. This was something he needed to learn from him, not his son.

“Nobody that daddy didn’t know about,” he answered the question, stepping fully into the room. Jimin’s eyes immediately snapped up to him. He had the decency to look apologetic, but it was a secondary emotion to the mix of others.

“Dad,” Heeseung grinned at him, but it fell quickly. “You’re sad too? Did you cry like mommy? Why are you-?”

“I know you have a lot of questions, buddy, but I’m—I’m really tired.”

It was the most honest he’d ever been with him. Heeseung clearly didn’t know what to do with that answer, caught between a frown and another question. He settled on frowning, clutching his crayon tight. Jimin’s eyes didn’t leave Jeongguk. He could see him fighting with himself, bursting with his own questions but wanting to respect the line he’d laid down for his son.

“Can I kiss it better?”

Jeongguk blinked down at his five-year-old. He flushed, avoiding Jeongguk’s eyes.

“You look hurt, daddy. And you always kiss it better when I'm hurt.”

He didn’t deserve him. In no sense of the universe did he deserve to have a son like Heeseung.

“Yes,” he choked out. “Yeah, buddy you can kiss it better.”

He brightened at the prospect, wiggling away from Jimin. He pushed away his tray, leaving Jimin to catch the crayons so they didn’t spill all over the place. Moving gingerly, well aware of his injury despite being a child, he plopped himself at the edge of the bed. Jeongguk stood in front of him, taking his hands in his.

“Where does it hurt?”

Everywhere. “Right here.” He leaned over and tapped his forehead, where his headache was raging with no signs of stopping. Heeseung, using the same gentleness he reserved for Jungwon, planted a rather slobbery kiss on his forehead. “Thank you.”

“Where else?”

He forced a chuckle. “That’s it.”

No five-year-old should be able to raise an eyebrow as articulately as Heeseung did at that moment. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Liar.”

“Hey now,” he gasped in mock shock. “Yow know daddy doesn’t like to lie to you.”

“If you don’t like it, then don’t do it!” he exclaimed, poking his tongue out at him. Jimin’s cough clearly covered up a laugh. Far too much like his son, Jeongguk returned the gesture, scrunching his nose at him. “Come on, dad. Where else?”

His insistence made him falter. He didn't have any more defenses. All throughout the past week he’d been using them. He was scraped clean. Completely drained of anything he might have used to deflect.

Jeongguk lifted his hand to his chest, right over his heart.

“Here,” he whispered. “This is where it hurts the most.”

His child didn’t hesitate. He tugged on Jeongguk’s shirt until he was close enough and craned up to press a kiss over his heart. He beamed at him when he was done.

“Does it feel better?”

Jeongguk didn’t answer. He gathered his son into his arms, as tight as he dared. Trying to convey how much he loved him in that single hug. Apologized best he could, because soon, Heeseung’s life would be uprooted by his parent’s choices. There was nothing Jeongguk could do to stop it. There was nothing he could do to make the transition easy and perfect. He wouldn’t be able to stop the hurt and tears it would cause. It might have been a goodbye, in a sense, because he knew that he'd no longer be with him all the time.

And that made it hurt all the more.

---

His parents kicked him out of the hospital. Heeseung’s drugs knocked him out after lunch, and they decided that was the best time for him to leave. Under no circumstances was he allowed back at the hospital for the next two hours, both to recuperate, and to give Heejin time with her sons while they continued their unspoken avoidance of each other. Jeongguk knew that they needed to talk. They needed to do so desperately, but he wasn’t ready to face her and she wasn’t ready either. So he listened to his parents instructions to eat, shower, and steal fresh clothes from his father’s suitcase since Jeongguk brought nothing with him. He’d been preoccupied with getting to the airport as fast as he could.

And for the first time since meeting him, Jeongguk dreaded being alone with Jimin. Because of course his parents kicked him out with him. They’d been at the hospital for the same amount of time, after all.

The weight of the unspoken nearly suffocated him as Jimin drove the rental car to the hotel. Neither of them said anything as Jeongguk jammed the key card into the door. He made it inside, shucked off his shoes, heard the door click and-

“We need to talk.”

Jeongguk dropped onto the couch, face first. He heard Jimin shuffle further into the room. The car keys clinked against the low table in front of the couch. Inhale. Exhale.

“I know it’s none of my business. It hasn’t been from the start. But at this point I’ve heard a little too much. It might be selfish, but I need the whole story.”

“And if I can’t tell you?”

He heard him take a deep breath and release it slowly.

“Honest truth? I’ll be really pissed.”

Jeongguk lifted his head. There was a small armchair positioned across from the couch. Jimin sat hunched, elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair. More stressed out than Jeongguk had ever seen him before.

“I’ll try my best not to be, but I feel stupidly entitled to know because I feel like I’ve been here since the beginning, but I know that’s ridiculous because it’s none of my-” he cut himself off, scrubbing at his face and hair. The brown locks stuck up wildly before he smoothed them down. “I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have gotten on the plane with you-”

He sat up, going to his knees. “Jimin, I couldn’t have survived the plane ride without you. I would have lost my mind without someone keeping me sane-”

“I’m glad I was able to be there for you. I don’t regret that at all. But I shouldn’t have stayed,” he stressed, eyes tight. “I’m intruding at this point. This is a family matter and I’m not-”

“You are family,” he growled. “Don’t say-”

“But I’m not!” He shot to his feet, pacing. “I’m not your brother, I’m not an uncle, and I most certainly am not your spouse.” He stopped to face him, face pinched in pain. “Don’t you see, Jeongguk? I’m too close in a situation that I have no business being a part of. Shit, I’m way too close. This is messing with my head-”

“Messing with your head?” he repeated, shifting to sit properly. His knee jostled. “What do you mean by that?”

He faltered, looked away. “I don’t want to say.”

“That’s not fair-”

“Well it's not fair to me either!”

Jimin had never yelled at him before. He’d gotten frustrated and irritated, but he never yelled. Never got angry enough to do so. It shut him down into shock, hurt following close after.

Jimin swore, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. That wasn’t okay.”

“Why isn’t it fair?” he whispered.

His eyes squeezed shut, arm falling to join the other around his stomach. Hugging himself in protection, comfort, or both.

“It’s not fair being around you when you’re in need of comfort. When you need someone who cares. Who will listen and still be there at the end no matter what you say. It’s not fair-” the word hitched at the end as he curled further into himself. “-when the person who is supposed to be there and offering those things is often the cause of your distress.”

The room was too quiet. Jimin looked far too small. He’d never been a big person in terms of size, but he had more than enough presence to fill a room and draw every eye to him. Right now, though, he sank into the shadows, scared to be looked at.

“What am I supposed to do?” he whispered. “What am I supposed to do when she hurts you? I want to be there for you and help you without… without—I’m actually horrible.”

“Jimin, don’t say that,” he rasped.

“No, Jeongguk, you don’t understand.” His hands went to his hair again, teeth sinking into his lower lip. “I know you think I’m some sort of angel, but you couldn’t be far from it. I’m not- I’m not what you think. I’m not who you think I am.”

“What have I got wrong?” he demanded, clutching his knees. “You’re Park Jimin. The kind-”

“Jeongguk, I am far from kind.” He laughed, bitter, dark, and wrong. He could feel desperation building between them. Both them trying to understand but missing the mark. “I’m not a nice person.”

“Then explain it to me!”

“I was happy when you fought with her!” he yelled. Jeongguk’s jaw snapped shut. Jimin continued, entire body bleeding with emotion. “I was happy when it was clear that your relationship was struggling. I was jealous every time you talked to her, mentioned her, or when Heeseung brought her up. And I tried so hard not to be, but it was no use! And then it just kept getting worse. Do you know how many times I thought about intentionally doing something so I had your attention? So that you gave your time to me and forgot about her? The more I learned about your relationship, the more I saw frowns instead of smiles. I kept thinking, I can make him happier.

“So no,” he choked out. “I’m not a nice person, Jeongguk. I’m selfish, disrespectful, and a damn liar. Because I promised I could stay your friend while having feelings for you and I lied.” He shook his head frantically, almost manic. “I lied from the very beginning. It was never a puppy crush. What I felt on the plane? That was a puppy crush. What I felt on the swings? That was me realizing I could fall completely in love with you if I wasn’t careful. Well, guess what?” He lifted his head, tears catching in the light he’d switched on when he came in. He showcased the deep, gut wrenching, agony he’d been hiding for far too long. “I haven’t been careful. I haven’t been careful at all.”

He couldn’t say anything. He felt too dizzy, too overwhelmed. The couch didn’t feel real underneath him. He couldn’t feel the fabric of his jeans against his hands. All he could hear was what Jimin didn’t say. And he felt- he felt-

“Jimin, I-” his voice cracked horribly, but he couldn’t be embarrassed about it right now. Not when- “Are you saying that-?”

“No!” he exclaimed, swiping at his face. It scrunched in distress. “No? Yes? I don’t know!” 

“I don’t know?” Jeongguk repeated, still grappling with existence.

“I don’t.” He pulled at his hair in a way that looked incredibly painful, making him wince in sympathy. “This is what I mean by the situation messing with my head. Because I feel more whenever—this is so stupid-”

“It’s not.” He finally felt how hard he was squeezing his knees. “Jimin, how you feel, this entire thing, is not stupid. It’s real and important.”

He didn’t know why that made Jimin pause. But it did, and he watched his eyes begin to shine with more tears. He braced a hand over his eyes, groaning.

“You can’t say things like that. It makes it worse.”

For some reason, that was what activated the frustration that built dormantly this entire time.

“I can’t validate you, I can’t compliment you, I can’t look at you without your friends thinking I’m in love with you-”

“They- what?”

“-even though you’re open with physical touch I still feel guilty every time I touch you because—well, because!” He threw up his hands, eyebrows drawn together in irritation. “So tell me, Jimin, what I can do that shows that I care about you, who you are and what you say, without crossing a boundary that we haven’t. Talked. About.”

“I- you can’t-” Jimin inhaled sharply, lowering his head to tap against his pressed together palms and extended fingers. “Can we back up here? My friends think what?”

He groaned, burying his face in his hands and putting his elbows on his knees. Because of course that’s what Jimin chose to focus on.

“Seokjin gave me a ted talk about emotional cheating. Taehyung ratted you out about raising your hand to agree that I was a DILF—which I’m not sure if that counts? And then, Yoongi. That’s what we were talking about outside the restaurant-”

“What did he say-”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters! They never should have cornered you in the name of protecting me or some crap like that. If anything they should have been pulling me aside and warning me off because you’re married-”

“Not for long.”

Everything stopped. It was as if the entire world held her breath. Every particle and atom vibrated in place.

It all rushed back to speed as Jimin dropped heavily into the armchair, hands slapping against his thighs. He gaped, mouth working for words.

“What?” he whispered, eyes impossibly wide. “I don’t- what?”

Jeongguk couldn’t do more than blink at him, his insides doing an entire haul over in the span of three seconds. He didn’t mean to tell him. Not like this. He dropped it on him in the middle of discussing his feelings for him. He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, sitting back against the cushions. Shifted it to run a hand through his less than presentable hair. Jimin stared. And stared. Didn’t say a word and remained in a petrified state of shock.

Jeongguk squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’m getting divorced.”

The noise Jimin made reminded him of a wounded animal. Or a confused cat trill. He peered at him. He was the same shade of sickly pale that Heeseung had been earlier. Jeongguk felt far too similar.

“This isn’t how I wanted to tell you,” he cautioned. “I’m—I-” he shook his head. “It only happened a few hours ago.”

“Jeongguk,” Jimin practically wheezed. “What happened? You and her- I thought- were the arguments that bad?”

He almost laughed. They were awful, but if it had been that alone divorce wouldn’t have crossed his mind. Being honest, it never had. Not until Heejin said she didn’t want to, reminding Jeongguk that it was natural to go that route when someone found out their spouse had been unfaithful. His brain had been trained to think she was the only one. Why would he ever let go of her if she was the one?

“What Heeseung said earlier about Heejin and I not being happy…” he picked at his jeans. “He’s spot on. We haven’t been. Not for a while. I just—I didn’t realize it until-”

It didn’t get easier. It wasn’t easy when he told his parents. It felt so much harder now.

Because he was tired. Numb. Bruised and broken. He wasn’t superman in front of Jimin. He never had been. So when he broke, he broke.

“Until I found out that she’d been cheating on me.”

The revelation desecrated the space. Across from him, Jimin clutched the edges of the chair. Thrown. Unsure of himself but so-

“She cheated on you?”

Miserably, he nodded.

“When did you-”

“Find out?” He rubbed his eyes. “A week before I came here. I answered a phone call I wasn't supposed to. He—Yugyeom didn't know. He didn't know at all.” His voice saying, she's married? would haunt him forever. “I confronted her that night. That was the night she told me I didn't love her and-”

“She cheated on you and when you confronted her she told you that you didn't love her?”

“She was right,” Jeongguk mustered. “Remember? We've had this conversation-”

“I remember. I remember and- I'm such an idiot.” He buried his face in his hands.

“You're not an idiot-”

“I rambled on about you creating unnecessary distance and not reassuring her when you'd been dealing with the fact that she cheated on you-” he sucked in a harsh breath, eyes tightening into something hard and unforgiving. “I don’t care if there’s something she felt like she wasn’t getting out of your relationship. That’s what communication is for. You talk about it with each other and come up with a solution instead of going behind your partner’s back. The idea that she cheated on you then turned around and said it’s because you didn’t love her? I call bullshit.”

“But I didn’t love her,” he whispered. “I don’t.”

“It doesn’t matter!”  He shot to his feet, taking a step towards him. “Did she express that to you before? Did she let you know that she was feeling that way? Did you have any idea?”

He shook his head, heart in the wrong place. It beat in his throat, uncomfortable and persistent.

“She doesn’t get to justify her actions like that. It’s wrong and unfair of her to do when she’s the one who messed up. It’s not-”

Jimin stopped, staring down at him. It seemed to rip right through him, creating the same soul watching feeling Yoongi managed to accomplish. He suddenly stood too close. Jeongguk found his heart back in his chest again, tripping over itself.

“Jeongguk,” Jimin murmured, eyes searching. Pleading. “You do know it’s not your fault, right?”

It was his most closely guarded secret. The thoughts that surfaced when he was alone. Its words logically didn’t make any sense, but that didn’t stop it from cutting deep and twisting. A never ending torment.

What did he do that I didn’t? What about him caught your eye that I didn’t have? What about me convinced you to not be loyal? What did I do wrong? In what way did I not meet your needs? Why wasn’t I enough? Thisismyfault-

His eyes stung. Tilting his head up, he blinked away what he could, but a few escaped to tickle his skin.

“I know it’s not,” he croaked. “I know. But I still- sometimes I-”

He couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“What did I do to make her feel like she couldn’t tell me? How long had she been silent? I—she hurt me so why do I feel guilty for not noticing? That what I was doing wasn’t enough for her? That I wasn’t enough-”

His sob choked out into a gasp as Jimin grabbed him, dragging him into a hug. The last time they’d hugged was when Jimin left his apartment to go to work. The last time they hugged like this was on the back of his parent’s porch in Busan. 

He desperately needed it.

He clung to him, sobbing unrestrained into his chest. One hand sank into Jeongguk’s hair, combing through the strands in soothing, comforting glides.

“It is not your fault,” Jimin vowed, harsh but sincere. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Cheating does not come from a lack of love. It comes from selfishness, disrespect, and inability to recognize what you already have.”

He eased away, ignoring the pitiful whine of protest. Another died in his throat when Jimin took his face in his hands, forcing him to look at him. As if he could look anywhere else right now.

“Don’t tell yourself that you aren’t enough. That you weren't enough,”  he begged, crying freely. “It’s not true. It was never true. Not then and certainly not now. She may not see it, but you are more than enough.”

Jeongguk held tight to his words, trying to make himself believe it. He knew it was true, but knowing was a lot different than feeling. Hearing another person say it helped beat away the voice that told him he was fooling himself.

Jeongguk knew it would take a while before he believed it for himself.

“This whole time I kept telling myself that we were going to stay together,” he rasped after several minutes. Jimin sat beside him, keeping one arm wrapped around him. The other held his hand. “Even after our arguments. It was only today that I—before there wasn't any other option.”

“Why?” Jimin prompted. “Why wasn’t divorce an option.”

“Because of my children, Jimin,” he uttered, twising to his face in his shoulder. “Two little boys that deserve to have a mother. If it was just Jungwon, maybe this decision would be less convoluted, but Heeseung will remember what it was like to have two parents. He'll remember the things she'd do with him, her hugs, her voice—I have always been with him. Do you know how sick I feel, knowing that getting a divorce means I'm not going to see him all the time? Just because I can't bear staying with someone simply because I fell out of love with them?”

“But it's not that simple.” Jimin insisted. “She cheated on you, and maybe, just maybe you could work through it. Go to marriage therapy or something. But you can’t rebuild trust in a day. You can’t just fix it with a snap of your fingers. And why would you? For your children? What good would that do when you’re not happy? You said it yourself. You haven't been happy with her. Not for a long time.”

“Why shouldn't I sacrifice my happiness for them?” he croaked, listless. Fight gone. “I would do anything for them, Jimin. I love them, so, so much.”

Jimin's hand shifted to his knee. Jeongguk peered down at it, not blind to the way it shook. His gaze drifted back up to him.

“Because you've already sacrificed it for too long,” he whispered, looking as broken as Jeongguk felt. “And I think it's worse for a child to be raised in a home with parents who don't love each other and have been hurt deeply than to be split between the two where they can see them find happiness again.”

Jimin made it sound simple. Easy. A duh kind of moment. Jeongguk knew it wasn't. He knew in a few hours he'd be questioning himself again. But at this moment, he felt…

Free. Unburdened. Like he was making the right choice. He desperately wanted to make the right choice. Because if he didn't, he'd be irreparably ruining multiple lives.

“I should have told you sooner,” he confided. “I should have been honest from the start about why I was here. You make it sound so… so-”

Jimin raised an eyebrow, almost playful. “It's easier said than done.”

He shouldn't laugh. There wasn't a single way it was funny. Nothing in his life was funny at the moment.

But he laughed. He laughed hard enough to squeeze out tears, but it didn't turn sad. Not when he watched Jimin's lips curve into a half smile, bemused but accepting. It made Jeongguk's laughter catch, his brain short circuit and he-

“You make me happy.”

On his knee, Jimin's hand squeezed. A startled reaction. Jeongguk laid his hands over his. They were back on the train on their way to Lotte World, comparing hand sizes. He stared down at them.

“Bring here, in Korea…” he sucked in a breath. “It made me really happy. Seeing my parents, being around them again, that's made me happy. Meeting your friends, playing games with them and having dinner—I was happy.”

It hit him, sharp and real. Florida held nothing for him. He never felt like himself there. His heart was always longing for someplace else. His homeland.

Here, he had his family. He had friends. He had a culture he adored and wanted desperately for his children to experience.

It was too early, too fresh for him to be making decisions like this. Part of it made him feel like he was running away. He didn’t even know if the logistics of divorce and shared custody would allow it. Heejin would never allow it.

But Jeongguk wanted to come home.

“I'm happy here, Jimin.” He caught his eyes, holding them. He couldn't read Jimin's expression, but it almost looked like wonder. Or maybe, he was just seeing the reflection of his own. “I’m really, really happy. And I don't—I don't want to lose that.”

“Then don't,” he whispered. Softer than ever. “You deserve to be happy.”

Jimin's eyes were red rimmed, eyelashes long against warm skin that was paler than usual. Light shadows hung underneath, evidence of far too little sleep. His hair was a mess and clothes rumbled from being worn nearly two days in a row. His bottom lip was pulled taut in one corner, healing because he'd bitten it one too many times out of nerves.

But he still looked beautiful. Handsome. He still could stand next to Kim Taehyung or Kim Seokjin and not look out of place.

He felt…

“Jimin, I-"

Too many words darted across his brain. He couldn't say any of them. Not without-

"Thank you.”

Another squeeze. “You're welcome.”

Jimin shifted away, pulling his hand out from underneath his. Ran them through his hair. Coming out of a moment. Breaking whatever… whatever it was that hung between them.

“Do you think I can steal clothes from your dad?” He grimaced as he stood. “I feel absolutely disgusting. And I need to wrap my head around all this.”

“Unless I'm a plural person, I think he was talking to both of us when he said, you boys can use my things.” Jeongguk leaned back against the couch, tilting his head to look up at him. “You can shower first. I think- I really need a nap right now.”

“Don't fall asleep on the couch. Take one of the beds.”

“Ugh. Too far.”

Jimin laughed. Crystalline and bright. His whole body moved with it.

Jeongguk let his eyes fall shut. Feeling. Feeling. And-

“This changes things, doesn’t it? Between us.”

Despite not being able to see him, he knew Jimin stopped moving. In the silence his ears picked up on his quiet inhale. The lid of a suitcase opened.

“No. It doesn’t.”

He kept his eyes closed. Neither of them said anything else. A door closed. The water started up. Jeongguk flopped sideways on the couch, curling into a ball.

Because you’re still married. Because you need to recover first. Because even though I like you, you don’t like me.

Jeongguk pressed a hand to his chest, massaging it as if he could ease the pain there. They were all the things Jimin could have said to explain. Valid reasons in to strengthen the argument. Ones that Jeongguk couldn't protest against. They were true, after all.

Except... it felt like a lie.

Something had changed between them.

He just didn't know what.

Notes:

The week I posted chapter 21 was the same week that I finished 22 and 23. I proceeded to rework this chapter on three different occasions, specifically Jimin and Jeongguk's conversation. I think I'm happy with the end result, so hopefully it was satisfactory to everyone else.

Almost everything is out of the bag now!!! Crazy, right???

Chapter 24

Notes:

:)
So far I've continued to stay one chapter ahead. Let's hope it stays that way.

I am. Not sure how I feel about this one.

Songs~
I Caught Myself - Paramore
Sleepless - Novo Amor
Lost - Half Alive

Sleep, eating, and being clean had the odd ability to make him feel like a new person. Or at least more like himself. Jeongguk felt in control for the first time since picking up his dad’s phone call. He was able to offer Jimin a full, genuine smile when he got out of the shower to find that the older man had gone out to get food. They ate in surprisingly comfortable silence, despite the spoken and private revelations given in the last hour. With thirty minutes left in their hospital ban, Jimin sank into one of the beds and didn’t move. It gave Jeongguk the privacy he needed to research exactly what he was about to put his family through.

He wished he hadn’t.

Reading through the first article he found—a divorce checklist of all things—made him set down his phone and take deep breaths multiple times. The advice to gather documents, personal information, and to identify his personal property were easy for him to handle. He could do that. The others? Like how to tell his children? Gathering a support team that was more than his parents? Anything related to finances?

Jeongguk was way in over his head.

He didn’t want to think about this. He wanted to metaphorically stick his head in the sand and ignore that it was happening. As if he needed another reason to go crawling back like a dog with its tail in between its legs, scratching the mere surface of the logistics was more than enough. He wasn’t even adding in the emotional side of it. He slid far too fast on the scale straight into an anxiety attack every time he briefly imagined life without her. She was all he knew, in a sense. 

For seven years she’d been there. On the couch. In the kitchen. Coming home with takeout and a blinding smile. Laying in bed with work that she’d taken home. Work that he would pry out of her hands, laughing while she groaned but eventually let him take it away and convince her to go to sleep. Sitting on the floor, eyes wide and mouth agape as Jeongguk set Heeseung down and he rose on trembling legs to walk to her.

Despite all the bad moments he could recount from the years, they were overwhelmed by the good. Knowing that made him second guess himself. How could this be the right choice?

All I want is for you to be happy.
You deserve to be happy.

There was so much good, but it was overshadowed by the bad. The more he spoke with Heejin, the more he looked back, the more he could find. Looming in the forefront was that night. The phone call. His lack of feelings. Knowing the anvil of feelings he had for her as their relationship bloomed and flourished in their younger years, falling out of love shouldn’t have been possible, but it happened. There was no reversing it.

He couldn’t ignore the emptiness he felt, thinking of how they were now and how they might be in the future. Staying with Heejin, he knew exactly what lay ahead of them. Paper smiles, forced proximity, underlying tension. Arguments upon arguments, but they’d fight tooth and nail to make it to their children’s graduations. To them leaving the house. Only at that point did Jeongguk entertain the idea of leaving her, though the foolish part of him thought they’d fix their problems by then.

Now, Jeongguk didn’t know what lay ahead of him. The barest hint of it drowned him with the need to run for the hills. But he didn’t want to subject his children to the alternative. He wanted his sons to see him find happiness again. Not an artificial faked version of it. Not an adult version of playing house where they’re forced to pretend everything is perfect. Because it wasn’t, and Heeseung already knew that. He’d tried so hard to keep it from him, but his oldest knew that they weren’t happy. He didn’t want that to be Heeseung’s example of marriage. Of love.

That’s what made him get his breathing under control. That’s what made him pick up his phone and continue to read.

He loved his children, and he would do absolutely anything for them.

Even if it meant getting divorced.

---

“I’m going to go back to Seoul.”

In the back of his mind, Jeongguk knew this was coming. The tension free silence he enjoyed had disappeared within minutes of Jimin waking up. It built in the car on their way back to the hospital, nearly suffocating when Jimin turned off the engine and sat there, one hand on the wheel and the other still on the keys. It was when he pulled the keys from the ignition, letting his hands fall, that he spoke.

The large part of him wanted to say no. The first thought was, but I want you here. He wanted to take his hand and beg, don't go. But that wasn't fair. He let the conversation from earlier get derailed, but that didn't mean he forgot it. Jimin felt like he was crossing a line and didn't like how he felt doing so. It would be incredibly selfish for Jeongguk to insist he stay, despite wanting to argue that he wasn't crossing a line at all.

It wasn’t fair for him to watch the aftermath of Jeongguk’s decision. Not after he’d already seen so much. Not when Jeongguk knew it pained him to hold himself back, knowing that he couldn’t comfort him without wishing it would become something more.

Jeongguk didn’t want that kind of torture for him.

So he put aside his desires and managed an even, “Okay.”

“I’m going to say goodbye to your parents and the boys first. Maybe stick around for another hour. Do you still need the rental car?”

“No.”

Jimin nodded. He’d fallen asleep without drying his hair. It stuck up oddly in the back despite having fussed with it for a few minutes. He ran a hand though it now, sighing and reaching for the door. Stress hung around him like a personal raincloud.

“Jimin?”

He turned too fast to not have been waiting for it. “Yes?”

His fingers curled into his shirt, grounding himself. Or hyping himself up. A preparation before jumping.

“I- thank you.”

“You've already thanked me.” He smiled without his eyes. It didn't feel right. “More than once-”

“It’s more than that,” he interrupted, desperate to make sure he knew. “You sacrificed a lot this week. Your space, your time, your emotions—you dropped everything more than once for me. That's a lot more than people I've known for years would have done. And I don't believe you did that simply because you like me.”

“I didn't,” he agreed quietly. A second witness.

“You respected my boundaries and my privacy. When it was obvious that something was going on, you didn't push. You waited until I was ready to share and even stopped me from sharing too much. You didn't demand to know or dig into my life.”

“I think you're forgetting that I tried to wheedle information out of your five-year-old earlier,” he pointed out.

“Okay, yeah, not your best moment.” His cheeks puffed. “But what were you going to do with that information?"

Jimin fell quiet for a moment.

“I'd like to think I would have asked you about it,” he murmured after thinking. He rubbed at his jaw. “Honestly, I don't know because now I know that it wasn't an off-base concern. I just- it's shocking that she would ever do that to you because you're you. How could anyone-?”

Catching himself, his tongue clicked against his teeth. He sank against the seat. “Sorry.”

“Don't be.” Jeongguk took a deep breath, steeling himself. “Jimin, you are kind. Unreasonably so.”

“I'm not,” he argued. “Don't forget what I told you-” 

“I haven't. I told you before, it's not something I can forget. And I don't want to.”

His eyes widened, body twisting slightly to face him better. Jeongguk powered on, not wanting to lose his resolve.

“It's because of what you said earlier that I know you're kind. Because you had those thoughts and experienced those feelings but you didn't act on them. You could have easily done so many things under the guise of friendship and you didn't. Did you?” 

“No.” He shook his head almost immediately. “I would never. There were moments where I thought-” he bit his lip, guilty. “It wasn't easy. It's not easy. I can't—it's always in the back of my brain-”

“But never the intention,” he whispered, catching onto the struggle. “You're not letting it become the focus.”

Jimin relaxed, clearly relieved that he understood.

“You're kind,” he repeated. He would as many times as it would take for Jimin to believe it. “It would have been easy, far too easy, for you to take advantage of the situation—of me—without me having a single clue you were doing so. But you didn't. And you've been honest with me about where you're at and what you're feeling. You allowed me to make decisions based on that and didn’t judge me or shame me for those decisions. Even when I questioned your actions and motives. You’re-” he exhaled shakily. “You kinda blow my mind sometimes with how amazing you are.”

Across from him, Jimin’s cheeks took on a pinkish hue. A blush. No doubt about it. Jeongguk paused and waited for the you can't say that but Jimin didn't say anything. They were a past pretending they could keep boundaries.

“So thank you.” He didn't dare break eye contact or blink. He wanted to pretend he could stare straight into his soul and project every ounce of gratitude he felt. “Thank you for being incredibly selfless and pushing aside your own feelings, wants and desires to focus on being my friend-” he meant to stop there, but his lips continued to move. “-when you could have easily become something else.”

Jeongguk had a lightning crack realization at that moment, one that splintered into other, fast sparking arcs.

There were many things that threatened the fortress of fidelity he kept so strong. His wife’s self-destruction of it with her choices and foolish greenlight to seek someone else for no regrets took down the south wing with no warning. A bomb tossed in with no care for the casualties. Another was Jimin. With his smiles, laughter, levelheadedness, golden heart, and physical appeal that you noticed the more and more you saw him, it was near impossible to not be attracted to him. Emotionally or physically. He came knocking at the fortress door with an army. Under no fault of his own.

Then, there was himself. His battle of wills, thoughts, and feelings that took place in the throne room. His opponent was the version of himself opposite to the one raised by good parents, chose to have good morals, and feared hurting those around him. It slunk in the shadows this entire time, using a weapon Jeongguk only became aware of now. He fought with poison in his veins. A dose he drugged himself with drop by drop, having convinced himself without an argument that a little won't hurt. It showcased itself now in the secret that he’d subconsciously buried.

He knew which part was a lie, now, in the guessed reasons Jimin insisted things hadn't changed between them. It wasn't the fact that he was still married. It wasn't that he would need time and space to sort out the changes in his life after the divorce.

The lie was in his write off that Jeongguk would not and could not develop romantic feelings for him.

Because somehow— at a time that he couldn't place—Jeongguk caught feelings for the man beside him.

He liked him. As more than a friend.

If Jimin actively pursued him he would struggle to deny him, especially right now. If he did something crazy, like ask to kiss him, Jeongguk would let him. Any thoughts like those weren’t ones he couldn’t unconsciously brush away with off-hand guilt anymore. An ever growing part of him wanted it to be reality.

His realization arc ended with a sharp sense of dread. Jeongguk just inadvertently told Jimin that they could have been more. He revealed too much. Way too much. He was an actual idiot-

“Thank you.” Jimin's voice cracked slightly with emotion. A sheen of tears covered his brown eyes. “Jeongguk, I—I kinda really needed that. This whole time I've been feeling like-” he huffed, half a laugh, half a sigh. “I don't know. You know that one lady from The Greatest Showman? The opera singer?”

“Jenny?” Jeongguk blurted, not really there because Jimin. Didn't. Notice. Either he didn't hear him or he didn't understand. Jeongguk was torn between relief and disappointment. He immediately wanted to toss the disappointment out the window, unable to deal with it right now.

“Yes!” Jimin exclaimed, brightening. “Jenny Lind! I'm Jenny and you're P.T Barnum. Only you’ve got two sons instead of two daughters.”

His disappointment washed away. Like a wave quietly taking a shell back into the ocean. Jimin was just so… pure. No, not pure. Precious. Jeez, what was wrong with him? Did he have thoughts like this the entire time?

“I’ve been feeling like Jenny,” he continued, unaware of Jeongguk's internal struggles. “We’ve got a good relationship that works, but there's all that lingering in the back. Sometimes I feel this close-” he pinched his finger and thumb close together, nearly touching. “-to snapping and doing something stupid. Like she did in the movie.”

“But you won’t,” he murmured.

His gratitude held an entirely different weight now. If Jimin had been a different person, someone who wasn’t as kind or thoughtful, they could have been in sticky waters. But they weren’t. They wouldn’t be.

“I won’t,” Jimin confirmed with a smile. “Because I know what it feels like to be on the other side of it.”

How could he have forgotten? They had a shared, rotten experience in a partner being unfaithful. Jimin understood in a way other people wouldn’t. Because of that, they were of the same mindset. Neither of them wanted anything to happen between them when it would be built on the wrong foundation. They both knew the consequences of that kind of relationship.

“You know that’s why I’m leaving, right?” Jimin pulled him from his thoughts with the question, pinning him with his gaze. “I don’t want to keep myself in a situation where I could make that mistake. And with the way things are right now? It’s dangerous for me to stay.”

Jeongguk understood far more than Jimin might have thought. They both needed distance and time. He needed to process his untimely lightbulb of self-discovery.

He liked Park Jimin. When did that happen? And he swore he didn’t like men.

…damn. He had to apologize to Yoongi, didn’t he?

A hand waved in front of his face, snapping him back with rapid blinks. Jimin raised his eyebrows at him, amused.

“Anyone home in there? I think I should be offended that you weren’t listening.”

“I was listening,” he argued, pouting at him. Jimin giggled. “I get it, Jimin. As much as I don’t want you to leave-” Too truthful. “-I know why you have to.”

“I don’t want to leave either, you know.” He twirled the ring of the key on his finger, biting his lip. “I’d much rather stay.”

Will you stay if I ask you to? He bit the inside of his cheek in an effort not to say it. It was unfair.

“It’s the right decision,” he said instead. Jimin nodded, catching the key on another spin. He flashed Jeongguk a weak smile and got out of the car. Jeongguk followed slowly, his entire world tilted off its access.

How could he let this happen? How could he let himself develop feelings for another person when he supposedly locked his heart?

More than anything... why didn't he feel more guilty about it?

---

Jeongguk relied on Jimin’s guidance to make it through the hospital halls. He wasn’t paying attention at all, which is why he didn’t register the person standing in front of Heeseung’s hospital room until Jimin’s even steps faltered.

Heejin leaned against the wall, arms crossed and head tilted towards the ceiling. His chest tightened as he took in her puffy face, the result of crying too hard for too long. She’d pulled her hair up and wore a hoodie far too big for her—one of Jeongguk’s. Something she did when she needed comfort.

It hurt.

Oh, it hurt so bad.

Almost enough to make him cry again. He shoved it back, swallowing hard, and closed the remaining distance between them. She closed her eyes when he approached.

“I’m staying,” she said when he stopped beside her. “I’m not going to switch off every two hours with you just to see my children. It’s ridiculous.”

“I don’t expect you to,” he whispered. “I- we just needed some time. Are you-”

“Don’t ask me if I’m okay.”

“...okay. I’m-”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.”

He pressed his lips together. He couldn’t be angry about this. He wouldn’t want her saying either of those things to him either. Because it was obvious. They weren’t okay. And while he was sorry, he wasn’t changing his mind. She knew that.

Heejin exhaled shakily, swiping at a stray tear. Averting her attention, she nodded at someone over Jeongguk’s shoulder. Jimin.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, shifting to face him better. “I shouldn’t have said what I said earlier. You didn’t deserve that from a virtual stranger.”

His eyes shifted between his wife and his friend. Jimin stood woodenly.

“Thank you for being an extra support to my kids and to my- to Jeongguk.” The pause was a little too noticeable, quick as it was. “It’s clear that Heeseung adores you. It was you that took him to Lotte World, right?”

“Yes.” It came out constrained, almost unfamiliar as if he never spoke English before. “He’s a good kid.”

“He is.” She visibly softened, even as she tugged at her hair. A nervous habit Jeongguk almost never saw. “He was a little upset when he woke up and you both were gone.”

Jimin took the nudge of direction with poorly concealed relief. “I’ll go ahead, then. It’s… good to meet you, Heejin-ssi.”

“You as well, Jimin.”

He disappeared into the room with a strained smile and nod. Jeongguk let go of the breath he’d been holding. Heejin stared at the door for a minute longer, then turned to him with a weak smile.

“Well, you weren’t wrong. He’s cute.”

“Heejin,” he warned. It sounded far too distant because now-

There was the guilt. Crushing and air robbing. All his insides squeezed together in an icy grasp, sucking any and all joy away. How messed up was this? He stood in front of his wife, the woman he used to love, while knowing full well those feelings were growing on someone else. He'd let his walls down and let someone else into the space he promised to her.

What was he supposed to do?

“I’m not hitting on him.” She rolled her eyes. “Just making an observation.”

“I didn’t think you were hitting on him. Even if you were-”

“He’s gay. I know. I talked on the phone with him about his crush on you, remember?”

His hands clenched at his sides. She has far too much levity for something that was delicate. Something that caused a lot of strain and stress between him and his friend. Between her and him.

“Is he staying?” she continued, either oblivious to his tilt of emotions or ignoring them.

“For a bit. He’s saying goodbye and then going back to Seoul.”

“Did I chase him away?” she humored. It fell flat. He wondered when he stopped finding her funny.

“No,” Jeongguk murmured, leaning against the wall next to her. “I did.”

Heejin regarded him for a moment, mouth pressing into a thin line. Jeongguk had a hard time breathing normally. He felt as though she could see everything, that she knew exactly how he felt about him. Jeongguk needed to- the right thing to do would be to tell her, wouldn't it? But how could he tell her when he just barely realized himself? How could he when he didn't understand how it happened?

Truthfully, he didn't want to. He wanted to keep it a secret. Hide it away from her prying eyes. Nothing would happen between them, so did it really matter?

He was giving himself excuses. Of course it mattered. Everything that had to do with Jimin mattered.

“You don’t have to chase him away,” she attempted to say neutrally, but bitter hurt came seeping in. “After all, you’re about to be a free man.”

Wrong thing for her to say when Jeongguk realized as of ten minutes ago that he had a crush on the man. Wrong thing for her to say in general. With those words, all desire to tell her disappeared.

“Did you even think about that before you said it?” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“It’s true. Why wouldn’t I say it?”

“It’s not just about the words you say. It’s the implications behind it. Do you honestly believe that I’ll jump into a relationship the second the papers are signed?” 

It was a question for himself. The answer came immediately. Absolutely not. Jeongguk may have feelings for Jimin, but in no way shape or form was Jeongguk ready for another relationship. Not with how much he hurt right now. He couldn’t… he couldn’t even imagine himself with anyone but her. Those thoughts were too daunting right now. He didn’t want to think about that for years.

“No,” Heejin answered after a second, even and sure. “You’re not like that.”

“And Jimin isn’t either. He already feels guilty. That doesn’t go away just because I wouldn’t be married anymore. That’s why he’s leaving.”

It didn’t take long for Heejin to read in between the lines, her eyes widening.

“You told him.”

“Yes.” He sighed, rubbing at his temple. “I told him. Didn’t really have a choice, and being honest? I wanted to.”

“So it’s actually happening.”

He stared at her. She met his gaze evenly, not hiding the pain she felt.

“Yes, Heejin. It’s happening.” He tried to stay gentle for himself and for her. He didn’t need to turn it into a weapon. That would make matters worse than they needed to be. "Too much has happened for me to believe that staying together would be a good idea.”

She was quiet for a long moment, stirring up too many complicated emotions in the silence.

“Heejin,” he murmured, unable to handle it. “Did you think I would change my mind?”

She shook her head, the opposite to her next words. “I thought you would. I can’t—I can’t imagine my life without you. I thought it would be the same for you.”

“It is. You’ve been my life for over seven years. That doesn’t just disappear. I’m—Heejin I’m terrified right now. Because I don’t want to do this, but-”

“You’re the one who said you wanted it. And that’s been the deal from the beginning. If you decided you didn’t want this—that you didn’t want me—then we’d end it.” Her tone trembled at the end. “I just wish you knew from the beginning instead of giving me hope that you’d fight for us.”

Jeongguk took her hand, squeezing tightly. For the first time in a while, he felt fully at peace and calm around her.

“Tell me honestly. Do you want me to fight for us? After everything that’s happened this month. Do you want this?”

“What would you do if I said yes?” she countered, tilting her chin up. “If I refused to get divorced, what would you do?”

“I’d get us a therapist,” he answered, interlacing their fingers. “I’d follow their advice so we could build healthy communication habits. Work through our problems and try to heal together. I’d set aside two nights a month where we’d get a babysitter and go back to going on actual dates instead of the once in a while movie and glass of alcohol after the kids have gone to bed. I’d try to rekindle what we had during the early years of our marriage.”

Saying it aloud, it sounded doable. It would be a lot of work, but it would be nice. Yet, there was more.

“But I’d also be paranoid.” She immediately winced, but he needed to continue. “I’d want to check your call and text history. I’d want to randomly pop into your office during lunch just to make sure you weren’t eating with someone else. I’d want to know who it is exactly that you’re going out with and what time you’d be home. I’d want to call you if you were late by more than ten minutes. Every time I’d touch you, hold you, anything, it would always be in the back of my brain that you did those things with someone else when you promised yourself to me.”

“Jeongguk…”

“You broke my trust, Heejin,” he forced out through the block in his throat. Through the traitorous tears that never left his eyes. “And it would take a really long time to rebuild that. And more than that…” he took a deep breath. “You’d have to work your ass off to get me to forgive you for neglecting our children.”

She reeled back at that, eyes wide.

“When have I ever-”

“You gave them their physical needs, but emotional?” He shook his head. “That’s just as important and you deprived them of it. Especially within this past year. And yes, you were fixing it, but knowing what you spent your time doing instead, you’re going to have to do a lot more. No matter what, that needs to change.”

She didn’t argue. She wanted to, but something kept her from doing so. Realization, probably.

“So tell me, Heejin. Do you want me to fight?” He paused to let the question sink in. Lower, he asked, “Would you be happy?”

Her lower lip trembled. Jeongguk already knew. He knew before he even asked the question. They were both tired.

“No.”

He gave her a small, weak, broken smile.

“I didn’t think so.”

Her face crumpled as she tilted forward, her head thumping against his chest. He pulled her in with one arm around her back, keeping their hands interlaced.

“I wouldn’t be happy either,” he confided, pressing the words into her hair. Nostalgia hit him with the smell of her shampoo. Some sort of flower blossom. “Heejin, I love you. I do. But I’m not in love with you. Not anymore. And probably never again”

“I want you to be,” she warbled miserably. “It’s so lonely, Jeongguk. Being in love with someone who isn’t in love with you.”

“I know,” he soothed as his heart broke all over again. How many times could it shatter before there was nothing left? “And I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” she cried. “Please don’t say that. Please.”

This time, he couldn’t comply with the request.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered under her cries. Letting go of her hand, he pulled her closer. “I’m so, so sorry.”

She’d done something terrible. Something that other people would say she didn’t deserve forgiveness for. Some days, he wanted to hate her. Some days he did.

But he still loved her. And it still hurt to see her in so much pain, knowing he added to it.

He knew it would only hurt more if he let her convince him that they could stay together.

---

Watching Jimin say goodbye was hard. Heeseung cried after learning he probably wouldn’t see him before going back home. They’d be flying back to Busan to stay a few days and let Heeseung recover and then fly back to Florida. Depending on the prices of flights, they would either be flying out of Gimhae or Incheon. Jeongguk didn’t want to make any promises of seeing him before they left until they knew.

Even Jungwon seemed to know, getting fussy when Jimin tried to hand him over to Jeongguk. He ended up being unable to take him, not wanting to upset his child and Jimin since he looked like he didn’t want to let go of him either. It was Heejin who finally managed to wrangle Jungwon away without an explosion of baby anger and out of character no’s.

With a hug and a kiss for Jeongguk’s parents, he offered to walk Jimin back to the car. No one objected except for Heeseung, who demanded another hug and kiss before Jimin left. He ended up getting three.

By the time they made it to the car, Jeongguk was on the verge of tears himself. Because he also wanted to see Jimin before he left the country. 

“This isn’t going to be like those movies where we make promises to keep in touch but never talk to each other again, right?” he joked. It wasn’t really effective, given how choked up his voice was.

Jimin certainly didn’t take it as a joke, turning to fully face him with a far too serious expression.

“Jeongguk, I can’t even imagine how I spent most of my life so far not knowing you.  Why would I ever want to lose touch?”

His empathetic words left him speechless.

“Besides.” He shrugged, bringing playfulness into the tension. Trying to fight it away. “I still have to be around for birthdays, remember? Yours is next. And then Heeseung’s is two days after mine.” He waved his wrist at him with the new 13 dark against his skin. “I’ve always wanted to go to Disneyland so I could turn it into a trip for myself and include you three in the plans.”

Jeongguk didn’t know where he’d be in October, but that didn’t stop him from agreeing. “Sounds like a plan. Though, we’ve got Disneyworld, not Disneyland.”

“Same difference.” His eyes crinkled. Jeongguk felt- well. He knew what he felt now.

“Are you going to be okay?” Jimin asked, smile gone.

The question expanded past the here and now. It was a question for a week from now. A month. A year. However long it would take for him to deal with this. To heal. To regain his confidence. His trust in others. It wasn’t a road he could walk with another person, no matter how much he wanted to ask.

He could hear the second question embedded within the vowels.

Do you want me to stay? I will, if you ask.

It wouldn’t be fair. It wouldn’t be right. Jeongguk already asked too much from him. And he knew… he knew they were on the edge of something. An edge that neither of them wanted to cross. They cared about each other too much to put the other through it.

So Jeongguk nodded. Forced a smile.

“Get out of here, Jimin.” He punctuated it with a playful push. Jimin fake stumbled, laughing. “I’ll text you when I make it back to Florida.”

“You better.” He opened the car door. “I’ll see you later, Jeongguk-ah.”

It was a promise. He knew it. Held tight to it.

As he clung to it, a different part of him unraveled, too fast for him to stop it or think about the consequences.

“Wait.”

Jimin’s head snapped back.

Swallowing down everything, Jeongguk lifted his arms, giving him a pained, lopsided grin.

“No one leaves without a hug. House rule.”

Jimin’s grip tightened on the door, knuckles bleeding white. He visibly swallowed, the bob of his throat obvious.

“Jeongguk,” he cautioned. “If I hug you right now, it’s not going to be platonic.”

A warning.

Jeongguk didn’t have the strength or any ounce of desire to heed it.

“I know.”

His eyes widened. For one breathtaking moment, neither of them moved.

The car door slammed.

Arms slung around his neck, a millisecond precursor before Jimin crashed into him. It took them two steps back. Jeongguk fought to keep their feet underneath them while dragging him as close as he could possibly get, most likely crushing him against his chest. He didn’t think Jimin would care.

He tilted his face into his hair, breathing him in as he clung to him. Jimin held on just as tight. A man starved for same-paged intimacy that he’d denied himself out of respect for himself and Jeongguk’s relationship.

Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he should have respected the warning and let him go. Maybe he’d regret it later.

But right now? Jeongguk lived on don’t think, just do. He didn’t give a damn.

“This is our Jenny Lind, P.T Barnum moment.”

He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until Jimin laughed. Jeongguk could get high off the sound, but preferred it not to be laced with obvious tears.

“I’m going to miss you,” Jimin murmured, just below his ear. He suppressed a shiver. “I’ll miss you so much.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

That was the time to let go. It was the natural spot to step back and part ways.

Jeongguk tightened his grip on him.

“Don’t go.”

He heard Jimin’s breath hitch. Felt his body still. He shakily exhaled, closing his eyes.

“I just had to say it,” he murmured.

“You’re the worst.”

“I know.”

“In ten seconds,” Jimin whispered. “You and I are going to let go of each other. You’re going to walk into the hospital without looking back, okay? And I’m going to open the car door, get in the driver's seat, and drive to the airport. I won’t look at you in the mirrors.”

Jimin was a little too good at lying. Jeongguk almost believed him.

“Okay.”

For ten seconds, Jeongguk held him as tight as he wanted to. For ten seconds, he stupidly imagined meeting Jimin before ever knowing Heejin. For ten seconds, Jeongguk allowed himself to feel without any guilt at all, knowing it would hit like a hurricane later.

Jimin counted down at three. When the one fell from his lips, Jeongguk let him go.

He never felt emptier.

Turning around was hard. Getting his legs to move was harder. Despite the itch to turn and look, Jeongguk kept his gaze on the hospital until he was at the doors. Only then did his resolve falter. He spun.

Jimin stood at the car, hands in his pockets as he watched him. It wasn’t too far for Jeongguk to know he was smiling. Despite the gut wrenching agony, Jeongguk laughed.

“You’re a liar!” he called, raising his voice so it carried over the space between them. Jimin’s bark of laughter was sharp.

“I know!” he waved one hand, the other re-opening the car door. “Better get used to it!”

He watched him slide into the driver's seat. The engine came to life under the turn of his key. The rental car tugged out of the parking spot, turning languidly towards the exit.

Jeongguk watched until he couldn’t see the car anymore, knowing for a fact that Jimin’s eyes were glued to the mirrors.

Notes:

And with that, we've got ten chapters and an epilouge left. Don't worry guys, I've got this. *Wink wink*

My thoughts in the middle of writing:
1) *suddenly thinks about the greatest showman while writing* ...waaaait a minute. WAIT A MINUTE-
2) "...around his neck, a millisecond precursor before Jimin crashed into him, kissing him with fervor-" *slaps my own hands before furiously hitting backspace* NOT YET!
3) So. Jk's feelings realization was pretty tame. Let me tell you now. That will not be the case in a chapter or three. That is, if the scene I'm thinking of actually happens? Anyway.

Also!!! I didn't even notice but now that I have we have to celebrate it!

10,000 hits!!!

It blows my mind everytime I hit a milestone like this. I get so overwhelmed with gratitude to everyone who had picked up this story, whether you're not here anymore, still reading along, or join later. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! I truly don't have enough words to properly express my appreciation. I love you guys 💜

Chapter 25

Notes:

This chapter turned out a whole lot longer and covered far less than what I was planning, but hopefully it sheds some light.

“-ere Jungie and I sleep! Halmeoni said that this used to be dad’s! He couldn’t go to bed without it!”

He couldn’t hear Heejin’s response from the other room. He was only half listening in the first place as he tucked in the sheets on the bed. His mother insisted on washing them despite Jeongguk only sleeping on them for a week. Apparently, that was more than enough reason to strip the mattress and pillows. He tried not to be offended.

They’d arrived late afternoon from the airport and had been non-stop since. Heeseung was recovering quickly despite literally having a life threatening illness two days ago. They had to remind him that he couldn’t move too much and he was terribly confused on why he wasn’t allowed to walk up and down the stairs—the one downfall of his parents house.

Jeongguk couldn’t complain though.

He was stuffing the pillows in the cases when he became aware of someone watching him. He didn’t even have to look to know. He strained his ears, satisfied when he heard his dad saying something to Heeseung. He shoved another pillow in.

“It gets a little cold in the mornings so we can grab an extra blanket if you want. Your phone and laptop chargers are plugged in under the desk. If you’ve got work to do I can keep the boys downstairs-”

“It’s okay,” she cut him off softly.

“To which part?” He glanced over his shoulder. She’d mastered the art of leaning against the wall. “The blanket or the boys?”

“Both.” She paused. “Well, I’ll probably need the blanket-” he started towards the closet. “-for the couch-”

“The couch?” Jeongguk repeated, twisting back.

Heejin brushed her hair behind her ears, not meeting his eyes.

“You’ve been sleeping on a couch for the past week. I think you deserve an actual mattress for once.”

Jeongguk was confused for a moment too long. Long enough that Heejin blinked at him, her own understanding sparking. He wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

“I thought-” her voice faltered and she had to restart. “You know, since we aren’t…”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I didn’t… really think.”

Jeongguk could count on one hand the amount of times one of them had spent the night on the couch when under the same roof. No matter what happened during the day, whatever conflicts they had, they agreed from the very beginning that they’d never send each other to the couch as punishment. The bedroom was their space. If one of them was upset, that didn’t mean they gained a monopoly on it. All three times Jeongguk spent the night on the couch had been his choice and not at her insistence. The same went for her the singular night it happened.

Even after finding out she cheated on him, they’d slept in the same bed that entire week. Jeongguk never thought to change it, even if sliding under the sheets next to her reminded him that he probably wasn’t the only one who’d admired the spill of her dark hair against white cloth. Truthfully, the week before he’d left for Korea had been the worst week of sleep he’d had in his entire life, but it was what he’d always done. Fall asleep and wake up with her next to him. It had been one of the reasons he married her. He couldn’t bear the thought of waking up and having her not be there next to him.

He still couldn’t bear that thought, but he also couldn’t imagine waking up next to her every morning and feeling the ache of betrayal. No matter how numb it might get over time, Jeongguk didn’t want to deal with it.

Didn’t that mean he was a coward? That he couldn’t do hard things? He was running away because he didn’t want to deal with the pain, but he may as well have been running on broken glass. Each step away from her, away from them, hurt. More than he could possibly describe.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he decided, muttering the words under his breath. Internally he cringed, knowing his parents' couches were old and barely had comfortable padding anymore. He’d be able to deal with it. He managed to sleep two nights in a hospital and another three on Jimin’s couch.

Well. Two nights. Swallowing, he banished it from his memory. He hated feeling guilty every time he thought of him.

“Jeongguk.” It edged on a scolding. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch. I already said that I’d-”

“Either I sleep on the couch or I sleep outside after my mother gives me the biggest scolding of my lifetime for letting a girl sleep on the sofa.” He tugged the closet door open, reaching up to grab the blankets. “I’d much rather sleep on the couch than the ground.”

“I can talk with her-”

“Do you still want an extra blanket?”

He heard a sharp inhale before a hand grabbed his arm, squeezing tightly.

“You’re not listening to me,” she accused, brown eyes narrowed. His own flicked from one to the other. “I want to sleep on the couch. I know that you’ll feel more comfortable being down the hall from Heeseung and Jungwon—you can hear them better if there’s something wrong.”

“My parents are here,” he countered. Her hand fell away from his arm. “And so are you. I think you can handle it if one of them wakes up in the middle of the night.”

“It’s not about what I can and can’t handle.” The words began to take a sour edge. “It’s about you tossing and turning on the couch because you’re trying to listen for them in case they need you.”

“I haven’t done that the entire time I’ve been here with them,” he argued. 

Technically, they were both right. He’d always been zeroed in on them at home, but there was something about being with his parents that made him lose that. He trusted them to be able to take care of his children if they needed to. Selfish as it was, that helped Jeongguk relax and mentally sit back in the parenting chair. Maybe because he knew his parents were more than willing to be their primary caretakers for a bit. Heejin, on the other hand, tended to retreat and get overly stressed when things got difficult.

For a new parent, that was understandable. But they’ve had children for five years. She hadn’t been present enough to grow comfortable. Jeongguk hadn’t given her the chance to, swooping in to do everything. Difficult for him not to do when he was one hundred percent sure he’d jump in front of a train for them if he needed to. He couldn’t bear to see them hurt and if he knew how to soothe that, he would do it. Even if it meant Heejin didn’t get to learn how to do it herself.

Another problem I caused, he mentally glowered to himself. He winced as soon as he thought about it. There were two sides of the coin. He’d definitely been an overbearing fix-it-dad, but Heejin allowed him to put a cap on her growth as a parent. She took his tossed rope every time, not bothering to learn to swim in the turbulent waters on her own. Was that the fault of them being young parents?

“Just sleep here, Jeongguk,” she muttered. As he began to protest, she shut him up with, “I’m going to sleep here too. Win-win situation.”

It didn’t feel like a win-win situation. The idea of spending the night next to her felt strange. As if he were a kid having a sleepover with a new friend for the first time without all the excitement of the games they’d play before eventually being told to go to bed.

Heejin picked up the blankets, refolding the skewed ones. Jeongguk watched her blankly, even as she nudged him aside to put them back in the closet. If they were sleeping together there would be enough bodyheat between the two of them to stave off the chilly morning.

He didn’t know how to feel about it. Especially since-

“Was it only the sex?”

His blurted words hardly phased her. She closed the closet door before turning to lift an eyebrow at him. Jeongguk bit his tongue, sorting through his words before finding ones he deemed… adequate.

“I know it wasn’t the main reason. You made it clear the reason you did it was because I made you feel unloved-” How? I tried to give you everything. What did he do that I- “-but did the lack of sexual intimacy contribute to that feeling?”

Heejin moved to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling her hair over one shoulder. Almost absently, she began braiding it. His mind tickled with memories of sliding his fingers through her hair to do the same thing. He got lost in them, only resurfacing when the silence had gone on too long. He breathed out slowly through his nose.

“Heejin,” he began carefully. “We’ve got to talk about this.”

She unwound the braid she’d just done. “Why? It’s not going to change the fact that I’m a cheater and we’re getting divorced.”

He pulled out the desk chair, sitting heavily in it.

“No, it won’t change either of those things.” He tried to hold eye contact, but she kept slipping away. Glancing away and glancing back. It quickly frustrated him. “But it will help me understand what happened and my role in it. Your decision to cheat wasn’t my fault, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t things that I was or wasn’t doing that caused us to have issues in our marriage. I need to know what part I played.”

He let it sink in. Heejin picked at her hair, braiding and unbraiding before tugging. She visibly swallowed, eyes darting to the door. Jeongguk didn’t hesitate to get up and close it. When he returned to the desk chair, Heejin had tucked into herself on the bed.

“It wasn’t lack of sex. Because we still had plenty of that,” her humor was bland. “There was more.”

“Like what,” he prompted. He had a feeling he would need to keep encouraging her if they were ever going to get to the bottom of this.

“I’m a very physical person,” she breathed out through her pinched mouth. “And you’re… not. You’re emotional. You’re the type of person that would make breakfast and offer a heartfelt conversation after a one-night stand.”

Jeongguk wouldn’t argue about that. At least, not in this context. In his few one-night stands, also something he could count on one hand, he hadn’t enjoyed the emptiness of it. He knew nothing about them and they knew nothing about him. Being intimate with someone he didn’t feel connected to didn’t feel right for him.

“There was a disconnect there, between us. You’d rather say I love you while I prefer to show it and receive it physically.”

That wasn’t true.

He didn’t prefer to say I love you, even if he did so often. Anyone could say it and not mean it. There was a whole lot more said in the small acts. Remembering a significant date. Gifting something they liked. A kiss on the cheek or a hug to offer little comfort. Doing something he knew they could do but doing it for them anyway because he wanted to show he cared. It didn’t always have to be sexual, and for quite a few people it never would be. Those things… it showed that he knew them and they knew him in return. He felt seen.

Whenever he did something like that for her, did Heejin not feel loved by that? He tried to cover all the bases. All the love languages. He’d known she enjoyed physical touch the most, but did hugs, kisses, and subtle touches mean nothing to her? Did it just have to be sex?

“So because I didn’t initiate-” he picked the word she’d used last time. “-you didn’t feel loved?”

“A bit of that,” she agreed, clearly biting back her next words. Hesitation, or anger—it didn’t matter. She needed to say them.

“Heejin,” he pleaded, lacing his fingers in his lap.  “Come on. I can’t get through this if I have to coax everything out of you.”

“It’s hard to talk about, Jeongguk,” she snapped without a second's hesitation. “I don’t know why you expect this to be so easy-”

“I don’t expect it to be easy. Nothing about this has been easy from day one but I’m trying.”

“And I’m not?!”

“I didn’t say that,” he snapped back. “But if you’re going to put words in my mouth, yes, right now I don’t think you’re trying.” She began to interrupt but Jeongguk spoke over her. “I don’t know what it looks like to you, but trying looks like letting down walls to have an open and honest conversation, no matter how painful the content is.”

“Have you been honest with me?”

Yes.

His lips parted to say it. It gathered in his chest. Tickled his vocal chords. But as if he had slipped into a different universe, one with magic and potions that made you tell the truth no matter what, what came out instead was,

“No.”

That was the truth. Because he’d hidden things from her too. The things about their relationship that bothered him over the years. The times he said ‘it’s fine’ when it wasn’t. Far more recently… he hadn’t told her about Jimin.

That was something he needed to tell her.

“I’m trying to be,” he amended, unlacing his fingers to tug at his hair. They trembled. “And it’s hard. Because I don’t know how you’re going to react. I’m tired of fighting with you and that’s how all our conversations have been ending. And I’m—I’m sick of being angry. I’m sick of being sad.”

There was more that he could say. He could tell her about the pain that never ceased. Or the panic pacing relentlessly under his skin. The fear that squeezed his lungs. The whispers brushing against his ears, tainting his thoughts with insecurities, doubts, and lies.

He didn’t know if he could explain the guilt. How selfish he’d been in that moment, letting himself wonder how things could have been if he’d given into her ill-given permission. It was just a hug, his mind whispered. But he knew it had been more than that. On both their ends whether Jimin knew it or not. It hadn’t been Jeongguk holding his friend. It had been him holding the man he’d developed feelings for, the depths of which Jeongguk still wasn’t sure about.

That made it wrong. Didn’t it?

“I am too,” Heejin admitted as she adjusted to sit cross-legged on the edge of the bed. Picking at her hair, she continued to braid and unbraid it, keeping her hands occupied. Jeongguk wished he had a similar distraction. “I’m sorry for getting angry all the time. I’m… more angry with myself than anything, but it’s easier to channel that against other people.”

“Don’t pit it against the kids.”

She gave him a wry look. “I have more sense than that, Jeongguk.”

He wasn’t sure if she did.

“Let’s go back,” he suggested before they got into a whole different argument. “I wasn’t initiating.”

“I told you this before, but it wasn’t just that. It was the fact that you were going through the motions whenever we did something. It didn’t feel…” she pursed her lips. “There wasn’t any emotion. That’s when I knew something was up. Because like I said, you can’t just do physically. There’s got to be more behind it.”

That… made sense. It put a name to the weird physicality behind them. If he’d been falling out of love with her, that would make sexual intimacy less impactful for him. Emptier. Truthfully, he could think back on the last couple of times they’d been together and none of them were very… memorable. Routine and expected, but in a mundane way. Was that why he stopped? It had to have been over a year ago that he did, if that was something that appealed her to Yugyeom.

“When did I-?” he puffed up his cheeks. “Do you know when I stopped?”

She winced, curling into herself. Jeongguk’s stomach sank. She knew exactly when. They sat in silence for a solid minute. He watched her gather her words, build up her resolve. Would he need to push again? Chip the walls back down? That sounded exhausting. Especially if this was only the climb up the iceberg. He doubted they were even close to the top of their titanic sinking problems. He wasn’t sure-

“That’s the real problem,” she whispered. “It wasn’t the sex itself. How much we had or what it felt like. It was the timing of it.”

“Timing?” he repeated slowly. He thought over their interactions, as he’d done days previous but under a different lens. There were a few rushed moments in the mornings,  making her cut it close for work—her fault, not his; he’d gladly assign that blame—but he wasn’t sure that was what she was talking about. “I don’t-

“You stopped initiating after Jungwon,” she cut him off, pinning him with steel eyes. “After my surgery. After I couldn’t—after we couldn’t have any more kids.”

It was a repeat moment from outside the restaurant when he heard his dad’s tone. His fingers and toes curled, eyes and mouth opening in shock. Stunned to silence, it allowed her to continue uninterrupted.

“I understood the recovery process. I understood the stress of making sure he was healthy. That he would make it through NICU. I know how terrified we were for weeks after we brought him home even though they’d given him the all clear. You would wake up at the tiniest sound from the baby monitor and nearly kill yourself tripping down the hall every time.”

She let out a wet laugh, tears beginning to streak down her face. Before, he would have hopped up from his seat opposite of her to crawl onto the bed to wrap her in his arms. Take her hand and press his lips to her knuckles before kissing her cheek. Now, he only gripped the arms of his chair and stared. 

This was the opening of the floodgates. He didn’t need to pull teeth anymore.

“We had him and we had Heeseung. Nights stretched on forever and I knew you took the most responsibility for it. I know that. I didn’t push. When I needed it I asked for it and you gave. But after a while…” the reminiscence smile dimmed into a shriveling, trembling thin line. “I noticed you never asked. You never expressed that you wanted me. Not with words, touch, or glances. Not anymore. And I—I made the connection. You stopped looking at me like that after I could no longer conceive. And that…” she shuddered, entire body crumbling. “That made me feel so worthless. Lied to and used.

“A voice started up in my head you know? A sharp insecurity that the only reason you wanted me was for kids. Society writes the narrative that all women are good for is childbearing and homekeeping despite our efforts to change that. I certainly think it’s bullshit. But that didn’t stop me from falling into the age-old pit. Since you had two perfect little boys you didn’t need me anymore. You didn’t want me anymore because I couldn’t expand our family.”

He couldn’t wrap his head around this. He never would have stopped because of her surgery. Jeongguk wasn’t an asshole. The thought didn’t even cross his mind. Because it didn’t matter whether they were biologically theirs. There was adoption. So many kids that needed parents who would love them and care for them-

“And I—I don’t want to.”

For a moment, it didn’t register. When it did, It was a physical blow, leaving him bloody and bruised.

They’d talked about—he knew they were happy with their boys but there had been one conversation where he mentioned off-hand about wanting a girl and she-

His mind went blank.

That had been a one-sided conversation. Heejin didn’t participate much aside from hums and weird smiles. He hadn’t—he didn’t notice.

She pressed her hands into her eyes. “I didn’t know that until Yugyeom. We—we talked about kids, once. I told him that I couldn’t and he asked me how I felt about that and I just-” she choked on a sob. “I realized how relieved I was.”

“Relieved?” he repeated, rough and broken. He couldn’t-

It smacked into him like a freight train.

“You didn’t want kids,” he realized, numb. “You never wanted kids, did you.”

Heejin slowly shook her head.

“I thought I did. I grew up babysitting  and talking about kids and—none of that was definite. It was fine because it wasn’t long term. There was an end in sight. It wasn’t real. The thought of being a mom always made me nervous but I couldn’t figure out why until-”

Heejin pacing and pacing and pacing in their living room. The tremble of her hand as she pointed to the bathroom. Her terrified voice as she asked about abortion. The nights spent crying during her pregnancy that she never, ever, explained no matter how carefully ge asked. The pure relief when Jeongguk took charge of Heeseung’s major needs and complacency in allowing him to do so. The contentment she displayed in letting him make the decisions when it came to their children.

“-I was pregnant and all I could feel was dread . It wasn’t like babysitting where their parents would come home and I’d get to leave.”  She tore a hand through her hair. “There wasn’t an end here. I was responsible for an entire life other than my own and would be for some time. They’d be completely dependable on me for their wellbeing and safety. Before they were even born there were things I couldn’t do unless I wanted to screw up their life. That’s—that’s terrifying.

“If we never had our boys, I would have been content with that. I would have been happy with just you and me for the rest of our lives.”

Hearing that wrecked him. It made him want to cry. It made him want to stand and explode with anger. It actively depressed him, thinking of a world where he didn’t have his boys. A world where he didn’t have kids at all. He couldn’t—he hadn’t been ready for kids when they had them, but there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to be a dad. Nothing would change that.

But Heejin would have been fine never being a mother. She wasn’t fine currently being one.

“Are you saying-” he was hoarse without having yelled or even spoken much. “-that you regret having Heeseung? Jungwon?”

“No,” she denied vehemently, locking eyes with him. “I love our boys. I love Heeseung and I love Jungwon. I don’t regret—I don’t look back and think we should have gotten an abortion. I wouldn’t change having them for anything.” She sniffed, rubbing at her eyes. “I don’t hate kids. I just- I don’t like being a parent. I don’t-” she seemed to be slingshotting between emotions, because she laughed. “You’ve been a better mom than I ever could have been.”

He could have argued that he didn’t need to be a mom. Why would he need to fill the shoes of that when being a dad was enough? He didn’t have to be a mom to be in the home just as she didn’t have to be a dad to work.

He didn’t say any of that. He sat there, overwhelmed. It was as if hands gripped him by the shoulders, pushing him down, down, and down. The only reason he wasn’t drowning was because she still loved her kids. She didn’t regret them. She didn’t resent him for silently pleading for her to keep Heeseung when they discussed letting him go.

But that didn’t change the fact that they’d uncovered a massive compatibility issue. That didn’t change the fact that he’d unintentionally, through a messed up sequence of coincidences, made her feel as if he saw her as nothing more than a means for children.

“Heejin,” he tried. Stopped. He couldn't do this sitting in a chair. He stood, crossing the distance between them easily. She watched him with an almost guarded expression. He didn’t wait to see it change as he sat down next to her and pulled her into a hug.

She dissolved against him, the slowing tears picking up again. He could feel them sink into the fabric of his shirt.

“I’m sorry I never noticed. And that because of that, you felt that I—you know I don’t see you that way, right? If you couldn’t have kids from the very beginning, that wouldn’t have changed how I felt about you or saw you. You’re not-” he fought for the right words. “-you’re not broken. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Why did you stop?” Her voice was muffled against him. “What changed?”

She wasn't asking why he stopped wanting to have sex with her. He thought he had the answer before, but that was only a piece of it. This added another.

“We never resolved our issues before,” he murmured against her hair. “I avoided them. I allowed them to be pushed to the side. I pretended to be happy, faking it as long as I could to make it. Most of this was subconscious until… until now, I guess. I just wanted… I wanted things to be good. I wanted to prove that we hadn’t been hasty in getting married as young and as quick as we did.”

“Do you think we did?”

“I don’t think so.” He never thought so. He couldn't say he regretted it at all, even if he regretted how they turned out. “I think I thought that any issues we had would be proof of that. So maybe… maybe a little in the sense that I wasn’t emotionally mature enough to know how to properly deal with the issues we were having. Maybe because we went from a dating honeymoon phase to a marriage one. There wasn’t time for us to see the flaws in each other and work out if they were ones we could deal or work with.”

“You snore,” she pointed out.

“I know. You’ve woken me up in irritation more than enough times.”

“So things like that?”

“Not necessarily the little things. Bigger things like…” he bit the inside of his cheek. It felt wrong, saying this right after, but- “Like if I had known that you didn’t want kids… that would have made me stop and think. Because we’re not compatible in that way. I-”

He didn’t want to cry, but it was useless to stop it.

“-I still want a girl.”

He knew that, now. It wasn’t a maybe, maybe not. It was a when. In his mind, he would eventually have a girl to dote on. She would either let her older brothers protect her or she’d beat up anyone that looked at them funny.

“And I don’t,” Heejin whispered, tilting her head. “I don’t prioritize the kids. I don’t do the cheezy things that you love, like notes on the bathroom mirror, or coming home with your favorite candy because I saw it in passing. I don’t take much stock in anniversaries, birthdays, or even holidays when you love them and want me to participate in them. I get irritated when you want to have deep conversations in the middle of the night or when you want to act like a kid and go down the slides at the playground.”

He hadn’t remembered that, but now he recalled their compromise. They’d swung on the swings, him for much longer than Heejin did. That was something they’d done while they were still dating. He’d toned down his childish actions when they got married, worried they’d make him less of an adult in her eyes. He should have known that it didn’t matter if he wanted to go down the slides or swing on the swings.

“I don’t like when you get suggestive around the kids.” He added his own paint to the picture she’d put before them. “I don’t like fielding your parents' phone calls. Or how everything is about money. When you bottle everything up and don’t talk to me, then get mad when it finally comes out because I didn’t ask enough times. I don’t like it when sex or other kinds of intimacy is used as a cover up. A smooth over when we should’ve faced it head on.”

“I don’t like it either,” she admitted, quieter than before. “But it’s easier than talking.”

“But nothing is ever actually said. Nothing is fixed.”

“No. It isn’t.”

“I think that’s why I fell out of love, Heejin.” He stared unseeingly at the window over her head. “Because all these things chipped away at me to the point where I was emotionally detached from you. I resigned myself to putting up with it instead of addressing it, and that drained me to the point that I didn’t feel anything.”

Heejin pulled away, prompting him to look down at her. She smiled weakly at him.

“But you still love me.”

“I do.”

“So those are things that you can deal with when I’m your friend. Not your lover.”

He blinked, lips parting and pressing together.

“Yeah. I—I think so.”

That made her laugh. Surprised and off-centered, but genuine laughter. Jeongguk watched, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Are you telling me-” she shook her head. “-that for nearly two years we’ve been a crappy version of friends with benefits?”

“What? No!”

“That’s what it sounds like to me, Jeon.”

“I hate it when you do that,” he groaned. “You know that you’re a Jeon too-”

He bit his tongue. Her smile faltered, pain edging into her expression.

“I-”

“Could you love me again?” she interrupted him, quick and tinged with desperation. “We know what happened. Couldn’t we fix it?”

He swallowed.

“We’ve talked about this,” he rasped. “We wouldn’t be happy. You wouldn’t be happy. And I—I want to be happy, Heejin.”

Her hand cupped his cheek, the other finding his hand and squeezing. Jeongguk closed his eyes, unable to return the touch.

“Okay,” she relented. She knew as well as he did that they were done. They could go back and forth for however long it would take for everything to be finalized, but the papers would get signed in the end. “I’ll stop asking.”

He found another question, one that had been there since the beginning.

“Would you have ever stopped?” Jeongguk whispered, not able to look at her. “Or eventually told me? If I never found out?”

Heejin was quiet for a long time.

“I-I don’t think I would have.” She took a deep breath. “When we talked, Yugyeom told me that he was going to propose. I don’t know where that would leave us but… as for telling you I wouldn’t have. Not intentionally. I probably… I probably would have dropped it on you in the middle of an argument.”

Yeah. That sounded right.

“Tell me about him.” He let his eyes open, catching her shocked expression as her hand dropped from his face. “I want to know.”

“Jeongguk, thats-”

“Not anything private.” Some things were best left unsaid. “But generally. What you talked about. How he made you feel. What drew you to him. Why he made it worth it.”

She leaned away from him, caught and torn. Jeongguk’s stomach twisted relentlessly.

“Why?” she managed to ask, searching. He gave a flimsy smile.

“Maybe I’m a little bit of a masochist. Maybe… maybe I want to hear about something that made you happy. He did make you happy, right?”

A bittersweet smile crossed over her lips.

“He did.” She squeezed his hand again, eyes tightening. Pained, yet understanding. “In return, will you tell me about Jimin?”

He should’ve known that he couldn’t hide it from her. It wasn’t something to hide. She knew. She probably knew the minute she saw them together. It was far easier to see these kinds of things from the outside looking in.

Right then and there, he knew they understood each other completely. He knew exactly how she felt and she knew how he did. They’d both messed up. The magnitude was different, but that didn’t stop it from hurting. It wasn’t a scale of who did more or who was worse. The fact that there was a scale in the first place was enough.

“I will,” he promised. “But not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” she agreed. They needed the time to process. To think. It relieved him that this conversation hadn’t dissolved into yelling and screaming like the previous ones. It gave him hope. 

She rolled to her feet, tension in her shoulders. “I’m going to go back to the boys, okay?”

“I’ll be downstairs.”

She didn’t acknowledge him, but stopped at the door. He could tell her grip on the handle was far too tight.

“Do you love him?”

He didn’t expect that. It threw him off, leaving him disjointed and unbalanced. He stared at her back, watching the tension build in the silence. He couldn’t lie to her about this. He wouldn’t.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I didn’t know how I felt until yesterday. I don’t know what I feel. I just know it’s not—you don’t feel this for a friend.”

Heejin didn’t miss a beat.

“Could you love him? If you wanted to?”

They’d had this conversation before. Jeongguk didn’t realize how painful it had been for her on the other side.

“If I wanted to. He’s-” he didn’t want to get choked up, but it was impossible. “-he’s really easy to love.”

He could almost hear a part of her break. He himself was chipping away in a manner far different than he did under their relationship.

“Heejin, I didn’t choose to,” he fought to reassure through tear-strained words. “It’s not something I would ever choose. Not when it causes this much pain.”

“I know,” she rasped. He almost didn’t hear with her back to him. She shook her head, tilting to look back at him. Her face was wet. “You don’t choose who you’re attracted to. That isn’t something anyone has control over. What matters is what you choose to do with it. You can’t help the way these things begin, but you shape where they go.” Her head tilted further. “Nothing happened, right?”

Jeongguk swallowed. “I hugged him. Before he left. He warned me it wouldn’t be platonic and I basically told him that I didn't care.”

Heejin only took a moment to let it sink in.

“A hug,” she deadpanned, dry. “Jeez, that’s two seconds from banging-”

“Heejin.”

“I know.” She sighed. “It starts innocent until it isn’t. I’m—I’m jealous that you two didn’t let it get out of hand.” Jeongguk didn’t get to ask what she meant. “Because I couldn’t do that.”

She turned back to the door, chuckling wetly to herself. One hand lifted to swipe at her face. She opened the door, leaving him with only a few, haunting words.

“I chased after something I thought I should have and lost everything.”

The door closed behind her, clicking softly. It didn’t latch completely, leaving it vulnerable to open at the slightest breeze.

Jeongguk sat on the bed, unmoving. He stared unseeingly at the place she once stood. It was almost possible to see the fragments of everything broken between them. Things that could be mended, but the cracks would never fade away. They’d shine through every layer of paint.

They both knew that it was better left broken.

Notes:

1) The "never sending each other to the couch as punishment" is actually something I took from my parents and it's definitely something I would want for myself.

2) This is a lil ramble, but there is a LOT of confusion for me about Jungwon's age because he was premature. So age wise he's older, but as far as development goes, he's younger? I should have made a timeline and done the actual math of what his adjusted age would be. Ugh. That's for after story edits when I feel like doing them. And technically Heeseung would have been closer to three, not two, when he was born -_- ugh.
But we don't think about that. :D

3) So, I have this weird thing where I find songs for people that we never see the POV of. So I actually have a whole list of songs for Heejin, and here are two that are very prevalent in her character. (I know most of you don't give her the time of day, but it's actually quite insightful for me when thinking about her and her personality.) Anyway, there two:
Never Love an Anchor - The Crane Wives
You Could Be Happy - Snow Patrol (I love the entire album this song is on --- fits the story well, I think)

4) When it comes to Heejin's humor (in some situations, not all), I take inspiration from my sister. So this line, "A hug? Jeez, that’s two seconds from banging-” is very inspired by her. When I told her, she basically told me this (I paraphrased it and dramatized it for my own benefit)
My sister: "I'm so glad that my contribution to your writing is crass humor given by someone who cheated on their husband for a year. Really feeling the love."

 

Anywho, I hope that you all enjoyed the chapter!
(This is the last buffer I had... hahaha haven't written the next one so let's see what happens next week)

Chapter 26

Notes:

The first part of this chapter? Flowed like water pouring out of my fingertips like I was some sort of fountain.

The rest of it. Ya'll I was crawling through gravel trying to figure out what to write. This is torture. Can I have jikook cuteness back please?

27 - Loving Caliber

The closet door slid silently. He couldn’t be more thankful for it as he reached up to take down the stack of blankets Heejin had returned to the spot a few hours before. One eye and ear remained trained on the bed a few feet away. In the dark, he couldn’t make out anything aside from vague blobs of the furniture. He doubted she would wake up, but that didn’t stop him from holding his breath.

Overcoming the final obstacle of slipping out of the room with the blankets, Jeongguk exhaled shakily. He took a moment to gather himself before heading down the stairs, but not before peeking into his sons’ room. Both slept soundly, giving him the reassurance he needed to set up on the couch for the night.

He thought it wouldn’t matter. It hadn’t in the past. They hadn’t argued or fought since he made his decision. There wasn’t even crushing discomfort between them. Aside from tired smiles and obvious separation, they went on as normal. Though, awkwardness was a given. He would think he would know how to act around the woman he’d been married to for seven years, but there was a battle of familiarity. He knew her too well, but she was also a stranger to him. It somehow hurt more.

A combination of all these factors made it impossible for him to lay in bed next to her. It felt false and wrong. An imitation of how they once were.

He didn’t want to pretend anymore.

Jeongguk relied on his dark adjusted eyes to navigate the stairs and the living room, easily making up a bed on the well used couches. The stillness of the evening sank into his bones, bringing a sense of peace and comfort. The nighttime was lonely—no one was awake—but after his kids began sleeping through the night it became the one time Jeongguk could have for himself. He cherished it, sometimes staying up later than he should to soak up every minute.

He drew the most during these hours. The reminder had him itching for his sketchbook. He tried ignoring the urge, but he was far too awake to lie to himself that he was going to sleep at all in the next two or three hours. He may have been exhausted, but sleep refused to come.

Creaking back up the stairs, Jeongguk held his breath for a second time as he reentered the room he was supposedly sharing with his wife. He knocked his foot against the suitcase in his efforts to find it, biting down hard on his tongue to not make a noise.

Jeongguk hadn’t touched the suitcase since his mother brought it over from the Parks. Apparently Jimin had packed up all his things and made a special trip to Busan, dropping it off to his parents to give to Jeongguk when they flew back from Jeju. He didn’t know why he avoided it. There wasn’t anything special about it.

The zipper was too loud. Jeongguk did it quickly, ripping off a bandaid, and paused. Waiting and listening. Heejin didn’t stir. Reassured she didn’t wake up, he groped around the space until he found the well-used sketchbook. He didn’t waste time looking for the art pencils. He’d use a regular one downstairs.

Turning on the side lamp his father used while reading, Jeongguk opened the book at random, barely registering the grey lines before flipping to the next page. He searched for an empty one, absently noting the different drawings. 

Jungwon scrunching his nose at mashed apples. Heeseung standing on a box with a blanket tied around his shoulders and holding a stick out like a sword. Heejin, caught in a smile as she pressed a kiss against Heeseung’s forehead, Jungwon on her hip. Jungwon on Jimin’s lap, a spoon stretched between them. Bam, stretched out across his owner. Heeseung and Jimin, the former with a hand fisted in a pair of jeans while the latter pointed at a halfhearted sketch of an amusement park ride.

Jeongguk turned the page, stilling.

A solo sketch of Jimin, face lax in sleep, imprinted upon the page. The shading of light was careful, delicate, and deliberate. Each line was drawn with purpose and potential. From the strands of his hair to the curve of his fingers, caught tight in a borrowed shirt. Hidden beneath the darkened lines were lighter ones. Ones erased in an effort to restart, to ensure that the finished product accurately represented the subject. Jeongguk remembered the littering of eraser shavings all over the kitchen table as he tried again and again to do the moment justice. The frustration as he made a line too dark to erase completely.

He remembered flipping it closed in minor panic when his dad walked in to get a glass of water, confused at his own reaction. I’m not doing anything wrong, he told himself. He was just drawing Jimin. Drawing people was what he did. He had so many sketches and portraits of his family. Adding Jimin to the mix wouldn’t be unusual, especially since they were friends. 

Looking at it now, Jeongguk knew why he closed the book. He wanted to hide the emotions blatantly drawn into the page. Adored, the rays of light said as they played across his face. Devoted, screamed the shape of his eyes. Revered, sang the sleep slack pout.

Wrong, his mind desperately whispered, trying to blur the image before him. He leaned into the voice, listening to it as he turned the page. Only to be greeted with a laugh. One he knew so well and immediately heard an echo of. He turned another page. Heeseung and Jimin. The page fluttered as he flipped it. A smile, crinkled at the edges and playful. Another turn. Brows furrowed in concentration, eyes elsewhere with a body frozen in movement.

Jeongguk’s hands were shaking with no signs of stopping as he turned what felt like a million pages, finally greeted with blank stiff white. In a haze, he counted what he’d seen. One, two, five, seven-

Twelve.

He’d drawn twelve pictures of Jimin. Twelve obsessively careful drawings he hardly remembered sitting down to do. Hindsight helped him remember the fog of artistic inspiration where he’d blindly grabbed the book and a pencil, jotting down the rough sketch before getting interrupted. The moments he returned to continue in short spasms of time. Now, when his fingers were still itching for a pencil to transfer the picture in his head to paper.

If he picked up that pencil, the blank page before him would be of his embrace with his mother. The one following would be him tapping a spoon against his mouth, post jell-o consumption. After that, sitting next to him with a hand on his knee, eyes drawn in concern,  yet unwavering with lips parting to say, you deserve to be happy.

The sketchbook flopped to the floor as Jeongguk hastily stood. The sharp, almost animalistic need to run needled under his skin. As he cast his eyes around, though, there wasn’t anywhere to escape. Because he’d been in this space. He’d sat on his couch, ate breakfast in the kitchen, and talked with him on the back porch.

Jeongguk shoved his shoes on, unlocked the door and stumbled outside. He slammed it behind him, halfway down the street before he registered that someone might have heard. He could have woken someone up.

That drove him further away.

He practically marched down the street, hands buried in the pockets of his sweats. He kicked at rocks, dragging in lungfuls of summer air. Craned his neck up to try and look for stars. Anything to distract himself. Anything to get his mind off of him. 

The more he fought it, the more leaked through the cracks. He passed his parents house. Walked through the park they’d talked about movies in. Passed the bus stop. Rounded back so he didn’t get lost and-

The playground.

Gravel crunched under his shoes as he stilled. He stared blankly, almost unseeing. Then, feeling out of his body, he took even steps to the swings. One hand reached out, brushing against rusted chain.

Thousands of moments replayed in his head, piecing together the timeline he’d previously been unaware of. It began with a flight, rose with a pirate ship, and swung back down on a swing. Simmered with the edge of a dance, jumped with a smile or laugh. Held its breath with a quiet word, gentle touch, and the presence of someone who cared.

Laying in the grass, watching movies, playing cards, eating ice cream. Shooting baskets, holding hands, sharing fears. Being hurt, being honest, letting go.

He held a lifetime in his hands.

For two weeks, Jeongguk knew what it was like to be genuinely cared about. Listened to and understood. He was fought for, protected, and pushed to be better.

He was-

The building pain in his chest hit a climax. He sank into the gravel, hand slipping and sliding down the chain before he grasped it tight. A lifeline. A sob ripped out of his chest, bringing hot, stinging tears.

For two weeks, Jeongguk learned what it was like to be loved by Park Jimin.

It was a glance. A peek through a window he kept securely locked. Despite being so brief, it opened up a world of potential. He could see what it would be like to be loved by him, having been introduced to it in unintentional increments.

Jeongguk couldn’t ignore it anymore, finally admitting to himself what he refused.

He wanted to be loved by him. He wanted to be loved and love in return. Jeongguk wasn’t in love with him, not by a long shot, but he wanted to be. He wanted to chase that feeling and nurture it, watch it blossom and grow.

He wanted to give himself to him.

But he couldn’t.

They’d met under the wrong circumstances. Jeongguk was held under vows and tied to another person by a ring on his finger. Even when those vows were broken and ring discarded, it would take a long time for the strip of lighter skin on his left hand to fade. Even longer for the rifts in his mind and heart to be mended and bridged over.

Jeongguk had to do that before he could even think about someone else.

---

He didn’t know how he didn’t cry when he approached his parents house to find his mother sitting on the steps, waiting for him. She held a book in her hand, an ever present sight at this point. Resting next to her was a carton of banana milk. Neither of them said anything as Jeongguk sank down beside her. He leaned against her side, tucking his head against hers. She blindly wrapped an arm around him.

He listlessly read over his shoulder, uncaring when she turned the pages too fast. Despite staying up all night long, he didn’t feel tired. Not physically, at least. He felt like a child, sitting at her side like this. Needing her close so he didn’t feel alone. He didn’t know how to repay his parents for all that they’d done these past two weeks—for everything they’d done his entire life. How could someone do that? They held an entire life debt in their hands but didn’t expect anything back. Jeongguk understood, being a parent himself. Yet from the perspective of a child, he longed to do something that showed how much he loved them. Everything he thought of felt horribly inadequate, especially in the face of his current struggles.

He blinked out of his thoughts when Junghee moved her arm to grab the banana milk, pressing it into the limp hands resting in his lap. He took it with numb fingers, thumbing over the straw.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, raw and hoarse.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because you still have to take care of me.” He sniffled, clutching the carton tighter. “I should have had things figured out by now. You shouldn’t have to sit here and hold my hand while I pick up the pieces.”

Her book closed with a defining snap as she twisted to give him her full attention.

“I told you. A parent doesn’t stop being a parent when their children leave the house. I will always be your mother, and that means that I’ll always want to take care of you.” She covered one of his trembling hands with hers. “Your father and I do it because we love you. It isn’t wrong to ask for help when you need it.”

“This isn’t something you can help with. How can I ask that of you when there isn’t anything you can do?”

“For someone so smart you certainly can say stupid things,” she huffed, blunt and unapologetic. Jeongguk barely registered the sting of hurt. “I can’t fix everything, it wouldn’t be right for me too, but there are things I can do. I can give you your favorite drink-” she gestured to his hands. “I can sit outside and wait for you to come back after storming out-” he winced guiltily, but his mother’s tone wasn’t angry. “-I can be here for you and wait patiently while you figure out that you don’t have to do this alone. You have people around you that are willing to help you. Me. Your dad. Jimin-”

“I don’t think I can talk to Jimin anymore, mom,” he whispered, heart breaking all over again. He couldn’t lift his eyes, gripping the carton with shaking hands.

She asked the question carefully, laced with suspicion but clearly wanting to hear the answer from him. “Why not?”

He shrank into himself, blinking rapidly to fight off the return of his tears. When would he ever run out?

“Because I was stupid. Because I’m-” he dragged his knees up to his chest, pressing his face miserably into his legs. He didn’t want to see her reaction. Couldn’t bear to see the disappointment and shame.  “I’m just like her, mom.”

The admission stilled in the space between them. He trembled from the early morning chill and the fear of having his secret out in the open. He didn’t feel relieved, putting it out there. He felt dirty and wrong. Worse than that, he felt as though he tainted the image his mother had of his friend. The need to defend him, to prove his innocence struck hard, but he couldn’t get his mouth to open.

“Why don’t I believe that?” she murmured, soft and loving. The opposite reaction he expected her to have. Jeongguk lifted his head, peering at her with wide, red eyes. His mother reached out, brushing a hand through his hair. “That doesn’t sound like my son.”

That tore through him.

“But it is me,” he choked out. “I wasn’t faithful. I let myself think of him in ways that I shouldn’t have. And I wanted—mom I wanted to be next to him all the time. I felt—I feel—I shouldn’t have stayed with him. I shouldn’t have been near him at all because of-”

“Did you know?” she cut in gently. “When you decided to stay with him, did you know that you felt something for him?” He shook his head miserably, an argument on his tongue, but she continued. “When did you figure it out?”

“Jeju.” He wilted where he sat. “I was so overwhelmed by everything happening and he was there and I—I didn’t want him to leave. I don’t- is what I feel even real? Or is it just a consequence of emotions and him being there in the moment?”

 He understood now what Jimin meant by things messing with his head. At the moment Jeongguk could say without a doubt that he liked him, but in hindsight how could he trust those emotions? Was it a byproduct of him seeing comfort from the closest source? That made him feel sick to his stomach. Like he’d been using him. Had he? Was he twisted enough to have been using his friend? Their relationship couldn’t have been healthy, with him relying so much on him. 

“I’m just so confused. I don’t know how to get through this. Any of this. I have to be strong for the boys and I don’t want to fight with Heejin anymore so I have to force myself to be calm but it’s exhausting to be around her and I have no idea what I’m going to do about Jimin and—I just want to sleep. I want to go to bed and sleep and just lay there after I wake up and not do anything.

“More than anything I want to stop feeling so guilty.” He pressed his face back into his knees, trying to press his eyeballs into his brain. “Like I did something bad. Like I made a poor choice. I feel so wrong.”

He choked on a sob just as his mother’s arms fell around him. She pulled him in close, tucking him into her not unlike how his father did at the hospital. Over his muffled sobs, she offered her wisdom with a simple:

“I’m sorry you feel this way. I don't know what it's like, but it must be difficult. I don’t know how to help you, my deer. I wish I did.”

He didn’t need her to help him, because he didn’t know how to help himself. All he needed was for her to be there and she did that without even trying.

“Are you disappointed in me?” he forced out.

“No,” she declared vehemently. “I can honestly say I don’t know how to feel about everything you’ve told me, but you told me. I would be disappointed if you locked it up and hid it. That’s… Jeongguk, that is what needs to stop. You have to stop bundling it all up and convincing yourself that you can handle it on your own. You need…” She sighed heavily, pulling away. With a gentle hand, she tilted his chin up to look at him properly. He knew he was a mess of snot and tears, but this was the woman who raised him. She’d seen sights like this ten times over.

“You need help, Jeongguk,” she said softly. “And I don’t think your dad and I are equipped for it.”

He stopped breathing. “What—what do you mean by that?”

“We’re not going to stop supporting you. We aren’t going to stop being here for you. We’d never, ever abandon you,” she pressed the words into him with a squeeze of his arm. “I believe, however, that you’d benefit from a professional.”

“You’re talking about therapy,” he realized numbly.

“Your dad and I were looking into it after you first arrived,” she admitted, squeezing his arm again. “After everything that’s happened… it might really help.”

This wasn’t his first rodeo with therapy. He’d gone to a few sessions in high school when his anxiety spiked. Although he hadn’t been a big fan, it had been nice to talk to someone, and he never felt guilty for unloading any of his problems because they actively encouraged it.

He wasn’t… against the idea. He wanted… he wanted help.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” Junghee soothed. “I’m not trying to pass you off or tell you that I don’t want to hear about what's going on. I just want-”

“I know, mom,” he reassured. “I—I think it’s a good idea.”

He didn’t realize how worried she’d been to suggest the idea until she relaxed, leaning against him. He wormed an arm around her back, hugging her best he could in their positions.

“I love you, mom.”

“I love you too.”

---

“Where were you?”

He swallowed heavily, unable to lift his eyes to face her. 

“Needed a walk,” he mumbled, stepping at his heels to take off his shoes, which he should have done downstairs. He felt a little delirious, but that was a given when someone stayed out all night long sitting at the base of a swingset crying their eyes out. He startled an early morning jogger, which cued him that the sun was rising. He'd used up the last of his energy with his mom.

He didn’t expect Heejin to be awake. Or for her to have her shoes in hand, as if she was going to go look for him.

“You should have told someone you were going out.” She let her shoes drop. Jeongguk didn’t know why or how, but he was instantly annoyed. “Your parents were worried—you woke us up when you slammed the door. I was just about to go and look for you. Do you know how long it’s been-”

“Hours.” He stepped past her, ignoring the irritated huff. Dropping onto the bed, he groaned, closing his eyes. He felt the mattress dip as she sat next to him. He fought another groan and the request to be alone. “I already talked to my mom.”

“Where did you go?”

“Out.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere.”

“Jeongguk,” she snapped, grabbed at his shoulder. He jerked away from her, rolling to the side with a snarled,

“Don’t touch me.”

Heejin’s eyes went round and wide, her hand frozen in the space his body used to be. Then, they grew hard and narrowed.

“This isn't fair,” she spat, rising to her knees. The physical towering didn't intimidate him. “You insist that we talk and be honest with each other, guilt tripping me every step of the way, but the moment I want to know something you close yourself off-”

“Who do you think I learned it from?” he bit back. Childish, petty, and entirely not what he should have said. But he got the desired effect as her cheeks flushed with anger.

“Ever think it's just you?” She pushed herself off the bed. “You find all these things to blame me for. Are you going to blame me for your crush too? After all, I drove you to it-” 

He sat up instantly.

“Don't turn him into a weapon against me. He’s not even a part of this-”

“Isn’t he? Can I check your call history? It’s not too far of a drive from here to Seoul, is it?” He couldn’t believe this. “I can’t think of any other reason you’d sneak out in the middle of the night and refuse to tell me what’s really going on-”

“I’m not like you,” he snarled, cutting her off. Except I am. “I haven’t talked to him at all since he left Jeju. Did you ever think that maybe I needed some time alone? To think?”

If she was phased by his biting words, she didn’t show it. “You still could have told someone-”

“Yes, because telling my parents or you that I was going to a park to bawl my eyes out would have gone over real well.” He enunciated each word, glaring wholeheartedly. Heejin shifted to face him fully, squinting at him as if finally noticing his red rimmed eyes.

“You cried?”

“Despite my best efforts, yes.” He flopped back, twisting to bury his face into the pillows “I’m human, Heejin. Can I please be left alone now so I can-”

“Dad?”

Jeongguk jolted right back up, a smile fitting over his face within milliseconds. Heeseung’s dark head of hair poked through the door, a frown on his face.

“What’s up buddy?”

“I wanna go downstairs.”

“Mom will take you,” Heejin volunteered, stalking over to him. “Dad apparently needs some time alone.”

“Dad doesn’t like being alone,” Heeseung argued, nose scrunching. He waddled into the room and crawled up onto the bed. Jeongguk helped him the rest of the way, checking his bandages absently. “Are you sad?”

“No, buddy I’m not-” he cut himself off, looking down at his first-born. Heeseung’s eyes were wide and trusting. He didn’t want to lie to him anymore. “I’m a little sad, yeah.”

“Why?”

“It’s an adult thing, Heeseung,” Heejin answered before Jeongguk could respond. “Now come on, lets go downstairs and eat-”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Heeseung-”

“I want to stay with daddy!”

Jeongguk enjoyed the smug knowledge that his son would rather be with him than his mom before realizing how awful it was for him to think that. Heejin clearly didn’t take kindly to it either.

“Of course you do,” she snarled. Jeongguk knew the anger was directed towards him, but that didn’t stop Heeseung from wilting.

“Get out,” Jeongguk snapped, any amount of patience for her evaporating into thin air. Her face twisted into regret, but he didn’t allow her to plead her case or even apologize. “Heejin, I swear-”

“Fine.”

She stalked out of the room, slamming the door closed behind her. Heeseung startled and flinched, eyes squeezed shut as a scared whimper slipped past his lips. Despite wanting to sweep him up in his arms, Jeongguk moved slowly and spoke softly.

“Hey, buddy, look at me.” He shook his head, lower lip wobbling. “That’s alright, Heeseung. Can dad give you a hug?”

He reluctantly nodded. Jeongguk didn’t waste another second, pulling his trembling son against his chest.

“I’m sorry kiddo, that was really scary wasn’t it,” he murmured, pressing his kiss to his hair. He nodded frantically, little hands twisting into his shirt. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Can you forgive me?”

“Whys you mad? Did I do something bad?”

“No,” he soothed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Mom and dad are mad at each other. Not you.”

“Whys you mad at mom?”

What could he say in this situation? It would be easy to sweep it under the rug . His son didn’t need to have his father unload everything on his shoulders, whether or not he understood it all. But he also couldn’t keep doing that. Because when something changed Heeseung would already be asking questions.

“Your mom and I,” he began hesitantly. He had to be careful here. “We said and did some mean things to each other. I’m mad at her for that. I’m trying not to be, but it’s hard.”

“Why?”

He came up short. “It’s really complicated, Heeseung. It’s not the kind of thing either of us can say sorry for and easily forgive each other.”

“Why not?”

He licked his dry lips, closing his eyes.

“Because she really hurt me. And I hurt her. When you hurt someone badly it takes a lot of time to make up for it and for it to stop hurting.”

“How long?” He felt Heeseung shift and opened his eyes to find his son staring at him. He frowned so deep for a five-year-old. “Dad’s been hurt for a long time.”

How did you know? I thought I hid it better. I wanted to keep it from you. I just… wanted you to be happy.

“Soon, buddy,” he rasped, feeling cut open. It felt like another lie. “It’ll stop hurting soon. Thank you for caring about me. And I’m really sorry for getting mad in front of you.”

“Is okay,” he mumbled, shy and unsure. “Can I have breakfast now? I want waffles.”

Jeongguk tripped over his laugh, picking up his son to walk them both downstairs as he thought of how to explain to his son that he couldn’t have regular food yet.

No matter how it ended, it would be an easier explanation than telling him his parents were getting divorced.

Notes:

Hands down. Heeseung is my favorite character. I love writing him SO MUCH and he's SO PRECIOUS and I just- AHHHHHH

Kay I'm done now.

Chapter 27

Notes:

I am so sorry that this is coming to you late. I struggled so much with this chapter. I honestly had no idea what to do with it and writing it was even harder when I got the idea. I still don't like it and I think it's the weakest chapter I've written, but I have nothing else to offer so please look past the flaws. I'll come back to fix it in a moment.

Also... sigh.
I can't defend Heejin anymore.

CW; minor physical abuse

She tried approaching him after breakfast with a gentle, “Can we talk?”

“No.”

Jeongguk didn’t even look at her as he walked away. She respected his answer, leaving him in peace. He helped Heeseung take his medicine, watched a movie with him, settled Jungwon for a nap, and accidentally took his own. His mother woke him up to take Jungwon from him, the baby having been entertaining himself by eating his hair. Jeongguk passed out again until Heeseung woke him up, demanding he join them for dinner. He made it two steps out the door before a door down the hall opened and Heejin stepped out.

Heeseung went quiet and still in his arms. Jeongguk tightened his grip on him, jaw clenching.

“Hey,” she began hesitantly. “Did you sleep-?”

“Still not ready,” he answered curtly, turning his back to her to start down the stairs. Over his shoulder he tossed, “Maybe apologize to your son before you try to get my forgiveness.”

Dinner was a sordid affair. Jeongguk blatantly ignored her, focusing intensely on getting Jungwon to eat everything he offered to him. They were making great progress, and Jeongguk noticed his teeth were gaining prominence. He didn’t know how they hadn’t been dealing with the teething menaces yet, but Jungwon proved to be an angel compared to the horrors Jeongguk experienced with Heeseung.

His parents attempted to keep conversation light and flowing. Heejin dissuaded it with short replies, shoving her food around her plate without actually eating it. Jeongguk’s fuse grew shorter and shorter. His parents opened up their home to her and didn’t express any of their true feelings about her and her actions. At the very least she could thank them for their hospitality but to his knowledge she hadn’t. Instead, she chose to sulk like Heeseung when he didn’t get his way.

Maybe he was reading too much into it. He had a splitting headache that didn’t help his irritation. Not getting any sleep and then taking a five hour nap at the wrong time of day made him grumpy. If he took a moment to calm down maybe things would-

No. They wouldn’t. He was allowed to be angry and upset. She promised she wouldn’t take it out on the kids and she did. She couldn’t be outside herself for five minutes to smile and say thank you to her hosts. She’d holed herself up in the guest bedroom all afternoon passing off the responsibility of the kids to his parents. He told her she needed to change when it came to them. If she didn’t, he couldn’t trust her with them. He needed to know they’d be taken care of when he wasn’t-

Her cutting words and Heeseung’s flinch rolled to the forefront of his mind. His fork clattered on the plate as he abruptly sat back, eying the whole expanse of the table. The people sitting around it. Eyes snapped up to him, the building tension crescendoing to one, grand peak.

He locked eyes with his son across the table.

Heeseung stared back with matching doe eyes, slowly blinking as he continued to chew on his rice.

Jeongguk knew nothing about divorce. He didn’t know how it worked. He didn’t know how long it would take. He didn’t even know all of the after effects it might have on him and his children.

But he did know, right then and there, that he would fight to have sole custody of his children.

Jeongguk sat forward, picking his fork back up.

“Everything alright?” his dad asked slowly.

He nodded and finished eating.

---

“It’s getting late.”

Jeongguk didn’t even turn. “Did you apologize?”

“...no,” she answered with a puffed sigh. 

He added another line to his sketchbook, ignoring her. He shouldn’t be drawing outside under this kind of lighting, but he needed the open space. Bam was the focus of his sketch, but it was difficult to not add his owner. Part of Jeongguk wanted to draw him, just to get it out of his system, but he worried that once he started he wouldn’t be able to step. He also didn’t want his feelings staring him in the face. The more he ignored them the faster they’d go away, right?

“Come on, Jeongguk,” she pleaded after a long moment of silence. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

Knowing she’d bug him until he gave her a clear answer, he glanced over his shoulder. “I told you. You’d have a better chance talking to me if you’d apologize to your son.”

“He's asleep now.”

Jeongguk shrugged. “Then I guess you’ll have to do it tomorrow.”

“You’re being petty,” she muttered, on the edge of anger.  “He probably doesn’t even remember anymore.”

The lead in his pencil broke. He set it aside, calmly closing his sketchbook. She hugged herself at the sliding door, bathed in the yellow porchlight. It was only because she blocked his lighting that he noticed her at all. He’d tuned out everything and everyone.

“Except that he will. He always remembers. He notices when you’re gone. He notices when you don’t give him the time of the day. He begs for your affection and is willing to forgive you for the worst of what you do even when you don’t deserve it. Because he loves you. Because he’s just a kid who wants his mom to love him,” he whispered the words, soft in volume but heavy in impact. “The mom that can’t even say sorry for something she did wrong.”

“Jeongguk-”

“If I’m petty, you match me with misplaced pride.”

“Look, I’m-”

“Don’t apologize to me.” He gathered up his things and hauled himself to his feet. Passing her to head back inside, he muttered, “I’m sick of hoping you mean it.”

She didn’t hesitate. “I’ve always meant it.”

He shook his head, sliding the door open wider. Light seeped into the kitchen from the living room, indicating that one or both of his parents were awake.

“Jeongguk,” Heejin called, demanding in her tone. “Think what you want about me, but I’ve meant every sorry I’ve ever said. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Is that why you’re not saying it to Heeseung? Because you wouldn’t mean it? You don’t care that you snapped at a five-year-old for wanting to stay with his dad?”

In thinking it over, Jeongguk wasn’t surprised Heeseung wanted to stay with him. He’s always been there. Even though he craved Heejin’s attention while she was there, he wasn’t distressed when she was gone. Sure, he missed her, but he always had his dad. Jeongguk had always been there, and even when he hadn’t been—the very rare occurrence—he knew Jeongguk would come back. If Jeongguk sat down and asked him whether he wanted to live with mom or dad, would he hesitate?

He would never ask though. He’d never put him in that situation.

“Why do you always have to bring them into our arguments?"

The sketchbook slapped against the table, outward evidence of Jeongguk’s irk. Apathy and emotional exhaustion kept him from expressing it otherwise.

“Your treatment of Heeseung is the foundation of why I’m mad.”

“I’m not just talking about now. It seems like every time we fight it’s about the kids. Never solely about you and me.”

Jeongguk’s tongue rolled in his cheek, clicking against his teeth as he fought not to break into delirious laughter.

“Of course they’re always going to get brought up because that’s the issue,” he stressed each word, trying to get it through her self centered head. “Your involvement in their lives. Or lack of it.”

Heejin groaned, long and exasperated. “We’ve talked about this! Repeatedly! You’re beating a dead horse-”

“Evidently not because nothing is changing. I asked you to spend more time with them, you continued to flaunt off with another man. I asked you to fix it in the hospital, and you snapped at him a few days later-”

“You can’t expect me to change in a fortnight. Change doesn’t look like that. Besides, I told you that I’m not mother material-”

Jeongguk held up a hand. “No. You don’t get to use that as an excuse. Motherhood may make you uncomfortable but you’ve had five years to settle into that discomfort even if you didn’t understand what it was until later. Not wanting to be a mom doesn’t take away the responsibility of being one and doesn’t greenlight treating them however you want. And if you don’t want to be their mom, we can easily arrange that.”

He didn’t mean to broach the subject right away. He wanted to look into it more and figure out how he could make it happen. Admittedly he wanted to blindsight her, but jumping into it blindsighted both of them. Jeongguk didn’t know what he was doing.

It didn’t take long at all for Heejin’s initial confusion to broaden into horrified understanding.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

“Spell it out for me. What do you mean?”

He fixed her with the most serious expression he could muster up. “I want sole custody. You’ve proved that you can’t keep yourself emotionally stable around them-”

“Did you ever pause to question why I’m an emotional wreck? I’m coming to terms with the fact that we’re getting divorced. A decision you made. I’m dealing with a lot! You can’t just-”

“We’re both dealing with a lot, yet I’m not over here yelling at my kids!” He finally lost it, everything he’d been agonizing over spilling out. “I’m losing my marriage, losing my best friend to feelings I had no control over, and I have to think about the future of my life—my kids lives—when I have nothing! No degree, no job, and the only support I have in friends and family all live in an entirely different country! I don’t even know who I am because everything I thought I had figured out turned out to be a big. Fat. Lie.

“So, no, you don’t get to tell me that you’re dealing with a lot. Not when you’ve made me question my own judgment in every decision I’ve made in life. You put yourself in this situation through the choices you’ve made—not just one, but several. Grow up and own up to it instead of pinning the blame on me. If it weren’t for the kids I would have asked for a divorce the second I learned you were cheating. I don’t deserve your bullshit. Heaven forbid you get married again because I pity the next man you set your sights on-”

His mind whited out. His ears rang. His entire body locked up in shock as he went from staring at her shaking, trembling face, to the light spilling across the floor from the living room. Fingers brushed against his cheek, coming in contact with unusual warmth, joined by a slight sting. His tongue rolled into his cheek, absently checking if he’d bitten the inside of it. He tasted iron.

“Shit.”

He almost didn’t hear her. Didn’t quite register it until she spoke again.

“Damn it, I didn’t- I didn’t mean to-”

Oh.

His stomach tumbled, heart crumbling. He’d never felt this small before. Not even when a nightmare he’d never dreamed came to life in vivid technicolor. He thought the nightmare couldn’t get worse, but Heejin had an unwelcome way of surprising him.

The pads of his fingers didn’t feel real against his skin, touching the same spot her palm had made contact. It hadn’t… no. It hurt. A sharp sting. He’d definitely had worse physically, but emotionally, this hit harder than words ever had before. He handled verbal sparring, hell, he’d handled mild verbal abuse from her, looking back on their relationship.

They’d never raised their hands against each other. It’d never crossed his mind. She’d never threatened it with words or abrupt movements. They’d talked about it, once, after a man in their neighborhood got arrested for domestic violence. Their twin shudders, horrified whispers, and impossibly gentle touches in the aftermath of the news told him it was never something he had to worry about.

She loved to prove him wrong.

“You hit me.”

“Jeongguk,” she practically breathed. “It was an accident. I’d never- I don’t know what-”

He somehow found his voice again.

“You hit me.”

Her fingers curled into her palm, as if they were foreign to her.

“I didn’t mean to,” she babbled, face drained of any color. Her hand, still slightly raised, trembled violently. “I can’t believe I just- did I hurt you-?”

It wasn’t abrupt. It was slow and cautious, the movement to touch him. He flinched anyway. Hard, tense, and overspilling with panic.

Heejin halted.

“Jeongguk.”

He couldn't do this. He couldn’t be in the room with her. He couldn’t have her under this roof. He couldn’t-

“Jeongguk, please, I didn’t-”

“You just hit me.” Stronger. Louder. He didn’t feel it. He felt tiny. A speck of dust in the universe.

“I didn't mean to!”

He never wanted to be alone with her ever again.

“What’s going on here?”

His eyes fled to the kitchen entrance, the light blocked by the frame of his dad.

His ears stopped ringing. The muted tones of the T.V hit, nearly overwhelmed by his own stuttered breathing and Heejin’s sharp inhale.

The light over their heads burst to life as he hit the switch. Jeongguk blinked rapidly.

Jeongho’s eyes cut between them, one hand lightly braced against the wall. He tilted his chin up. “Is someone going to answer my question?”

“It was an acci-”

“Either you get a hotel or one of my parents will drive you to the airport tonight.”

He couldn’t recognize his own croaking voice. He didn’t want to claim it as his own, as weak as it was. He’d pretended to be strong this entire time, but Heejin cut down his walls faster than he could ever build them.

This wiped out everything.

“Pick, Heejin. No matter what you choose you’re leaving.”

“Jeongguk, son, let’s talk about this-”

“No, dad,” he nearly sobbed, tears slipping acridly down his cheeks. He was quickly losing the tiny bit of composure he’d managed to grasp out of thin air. “I need her out of here.”

“Aiport,” she choked out, strangled and breathless. She roughly brushed past his father, her own sob unmuffled.

Jeongguk sank down to the kitchen floor, all the strength leaving him in a heartbeat. His dad crouched in front of him, grasping his shoulders.

He didn’t flinch.

His dad was warm. Safe. He’d never, ever hurt him.

“Guk-ah, tell appa what happened. You’re shaking so much- did something happen to your cheek? You keep touching it-”

“She hit me.”

He went stock still, face twisting into an expression Jeongguk had never seen before and never wanted to. It disappeared as his father crushed him in a hug, tight, desperate, and positively livid.

He didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say. No words could fix it. Jeongguk hid in his chest until his mother joined on the other side, one parent transferring to the other. At that point he’d retreated into his own head. It was easier than focusing on what just happened.

“Drive safe,” he heard his mother whisper. “But fast. The faster you get her on a plane, the less likely it is that I’ll come after her.”

“Junghee-”

“Get her out of my house, Jeongho.”

His dad complied. 

After the front door shut, Jeongguk dissolved.

---

Due to his mother’s quick thinking and gentle care with a bag of ice, it barely bruised. The only evidence he’d been slapped was a slight reddish tinge to his cheek. Yet Jeongguk’s eyes snapped to it every time he caught a reflection of himself. He continued to brush his fingers over it, swiping his tongue over the inside of his cheek to the healing tissue.

He had the hard talk with his parents where they asked if she’d ever done it before.

It was even harder trying to ask Heeseung.

But no. It was the first time and it would be the last. He would make sure of it.

He knew he worried his parents when he commandeered their computer and filled the search history with articles. He planted himself on the couch, hunched over to reach the laptop on the coffee table. He barely paused to eat and got far too little sleep.

He always pulled away for his children.

Heeseung only asked once where mom was. He lied by omission as he answered, “She went back home, buddy. We’ll go back soon too.”

He accepted the answer happily. Jeongguk had to lie again when he asked to call her, one night.

“Mom is really busy, but we’ll see her when we get home, okay?”

That one went over with a few tears, complaining, and an evening of pouting, but he didn’t ask again.

Late one evening Jeongguk psyched himself up to call the office he’d found and settled on. He held his phone in sweaty hands, the number already typed. All he would have to do is call, schedule an appointment and-

He nearly chucked his phone across the room as it began buzzing against his palm. He barely caught the name flashing across the screen as he answered on autopilot, registering it at the last second when it was too late.

Jeongguk didn't breathe.

An awkward beat of silence crossed between the line before the caller cleared his throat.

“I remember someone telling me they’d text me when they returned to Florida.”

The memory of his voice wasn’t anything like the real thing, even if it was watered down by technology. Jeongguk curled his fingers into his jeans, pinching his own skin to make sure he hadn’t slipped into a dream.

“I—I’m still in Korea.”

He didn’t know how he found the words, let alone the evenness of his tone.

“Are you really?!” Jimin’s surprise wasn’t hidden at all. “Did I wake you up then? I’m so sorry, I called you now because of the time difference-”

He cast a glance at the time nestled in the corner of the laptop screen. Midnight had long since past. It’d be around one in the afternoon in Florida.

He paid attention to the time difference.

“I was awake,” he cut off Jimin’s ramblings, pinching himself again to try and center himself. Trying to regain presence. “What are you- I mean, how did you call-”

He pressed his mouth into a thin line. Everything felt scrambled. His throat was dry, his heart turned into a racehorse, and he couldn’t fight the grin trying to cross over a face that didn’t know how to smile anymore.

If he had a simple explanation for this, it was that Jimin made him feel stupid in all the best ways.

Jimin chuckled on the other side. Jeongguk leaned back into the couch, the used cushions heaven on his hunched back.

“How am I?” he deciphered what Jeongguk was trying to say easily. “I’m doing good. Things were a bit rattled when I got back but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. I was… my heads a bit clearer now.” He cleared his throat again. “Which is why I’m calling.”

He read in between the lines.

It’s safe to call you now.

He didn’t know if it was safe for Jeongguk to talk to him without saying something he shouldn’t say. But he missed him. He missed his friend, and after everything that happened he just wanted things to be normal. Two friends talking. Nothing more. If Jimin could do it for two weeks, so could Jeongguk for however long this conversation lasted.

“How are you doing?”

“Honestly, hyung, I could be doing better, but I’m getting there.” He didn’t know how far away that was but he didn’t falter in his walk towards it.

“What’s been going on?”

There were so many ways Jeongguk could answer that question. It certainly would lead to more. He could easily see himself laying out everything in front of him and Jimin would listen. He’d listen, care, and sympathize.

But Jeongguk didn’t want to do that.

He wanted to flip the script and take control of the narrative he’d let himself fall into.

“Hmm. I will pass on that question. Ask a different one.”

A pause and then spluttering laughter. Jeongguk grinned, relaxing further into the couch.

“That’s not how it works!”

“I guess not. How’s Bam, by the way? I miss him.”

I miss you.

“He’s sleeping with that toy you bought him. Spoilt baby. Speaking of babies? How are my nephews?”

“Heeseung tried sliding down the stair railing today, so I think that sums up how his life is.” Jimin giggled. “And Jungwon is attempting to make me go bald by chewing on my hair. I think that’s the only sign of him teething.”

They asked questions back and forth, as if no time passed between them at all. As if there wasn’t a solid week of silence on both ends.

Jeongguk got updated on the rest of their friends, putting him on speaker to scroll through all the messages he’d missed. He admitted to being terrible with texting and Jimin demanded he write an apology and explanation to them. Jeonogguk sent along a cute picture of Heeseung doing a peace sign in his hospital gown as a way of letting them know it was all good.

They didn’t broach the subject of Heejin or the divorce. They didn’t mention Jimin’s feelings or what happened in Jeju. Instead they laughed until they were breathless and Jeongguk’s cheeks and stomach ached from pleasant joy.

“-nervous. I’ve never participated in something like this before. And I know that I’ll have Hobi-hyung with me but it’s still daunting,” Jimin murmured. It almost sounded like he was sitting next to him on the couch. Jeongguk had given up on sitting up, laying down to stare at the darkened ceiling with his phone on his chest, Jimin still on speaker. “The idols I work with already know how to dance, and these people will too, but I’m supposed to help them improve and get better. I’m worried I’m going to say or do something that impedes their progress.”

“I hear what you’re saying,” he reassured after making sure he’d gotten it all off his chest. “But Jimin, I doubt you could ever do that to someone. Even on accident. They might falter under constructive criticism, but it’ll only serve to make them stronger. You wouldn’t have been picked for this if they didn’t trust you’d shape them into something amazing. You’re going to be in your element. I’ve seen you dance and I’m not lying when I say that I learned so much just by watching. Getting taught by you? That’s not something anyone is going to get impeded by.”

“You’re right,” Jimin breathed out shakily after a moment of consideration. “How do you always have the right thing to say?”

“Hyung, I’m pulling this out of thin air and hoping it makes sense.”

“It does. Thank you.”

A moment of silence lulled between them. Jeongguk knew their conversation would come to a close soon. He wasn’t ready to let him go yet.

“I drew Bam the other day. Do you want to see it?”

“I’m offended you even asked.”

Jeongguk quickly sent over the picture he’d taken of the sketch, waiting eagerly for his reaction. He knew Jimin got it when he went really quiet, followed by a low hum.

“Jeongguk. You’re really, really good at art. If dance is my thing, this is yours.”

He bit back a stupid smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re not allowed to give me drawings anymore. Not without me paying you for them.”

“What? Hyung, no, that’s stupid. It’s simple and not worth much-”

“No, what’s stupid is that you’re giving this away for free thinking it wouldn’t get you at least a hundred—you know what, I’m sending this to Yoongi. He’s going to price it for me—don’t ask me how he knows art rates or whatever it is. You’re going to see how much you’re missing out on.”

“I don’t really care. It’s not like I need the-”

He shut his mouth, the familiar phrase cutting short.

He did need the money. He needed a job. Jeongguk dreaded the thought of going back into the food industry but he’d do it in a heartbeat to provide for his family. He’d already planned on applying to a few places as soon as he got back, but…

What if he didn’t need to? What if he could do what he enjoyed and still make a living?

“-don’t, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t know how much your talent is worth. Come on, Jeongguk. You just spent the past thirty minutes hyping me up when I’m scared about being an instructor at a dance camp. I need to repay the favor.”

“You really, really don’t,” he replied  absently. “There’s no favors between us, hyung. Anything I do with you or for you is because I want to and because I care about you.”

He’d done so, so well on not crossing a line. That edged the border of it. Wincing, he tucked away the feelings that spilled over the edges of the box he tried to keep them in.

“I…” Jimin’s voice was so, so quiet. “...I know you care. It’s because I care too that I don’t want you to think that your art isn’t worth much. Because all biases aside, getting a portrait like this is something I’d pay pretty good money for.”

He knew he could trust those words. Jimin had never been anything but sincere with him. He wouldn’t lie to him. Not about this.

“Jimin, do you think I could make this a job?” he asked, almost desperate. “Honest opinion, could I make a living off of this?”

Jimin took the time to consider it. Jeongguk’s heart flopped in his chest, almost impatient in his wait.

“I’m not a professional. I don’t know anything about art,” he prefaced, cautious and slow. “But yes. I- Jeongguk, have you even looked at your Instagram lately?”

Not since he had dinner with his friends. He tapped on the app now, sitting up in shock at how many notifications he had.

He balked.

“I assume you’re looking at it now. Before you even think of it, no, it’s not solely because all of us followed you. People genuinely love your art, we just had to let them know you existed.”

He couldn’t process it.

“Jeongguk? Are you alive? Did I kill you? Are you staring into the void? I don’t know if you noticed you do that sometimes but-”

“I can’t even begin to tell you how much stress you took off my shoulders,” he rasped, staring at the daunting 42.5M followers decorating his screen. “Holy shit I could kiss you-”

Nope. Take that back.

“-all of you!” he finished loudly, panicking.

Jimin, to his credit, laughed delightedly. “Remember, Jeongguk-ah, it wasn’t us. Most fans would have just stalked your account, but if they followed you that means they actually liked what they saw-”

“But they never would have found me if it wasn’t for you guys. I owe you—all of you—so so much. You don’t even-” his voice cracked under the emotion. His phone dropped into his lap as he pressed his palms into his eyes. “-this saves my life.”

He was buying him flowers. All of them. When he had the money, of course. And when he saw all of them again he’d tackle them in hugs. He had to do something to express how much they just saved him.

“We’re here to help, Jeongguk,” Jimin added softly. “Not just me, but everyone. They adore you and want to see you  happy. You’re not alone, okay?”

He proved that he knew more than he let Jeongguk believe. He’d somehow seen how much he was struggling through the slips in the cracks, even at a distance. He imagined that he didn’t know how to help, and hesitated reaching out because of that.

Jeongguk didn’t need him to do anything in particular. No one did. He knew now that they just needed to be there. Not necessarily talking about what was going on, but choosing to care. Choosing to be there and talk about other things. Asking after him and his kids and offering up their lives in return.

A support system.

He needed to call Seokjin and Namjoon to thank them. Maybe ask for advice. They both knew and he had a feeling Seokjin expected him to tell him what the final verdict was when it came.

He glanced at the time and went bug-eyed.

“Jimin. It’s four in the morning.”

He heard rustling and a gasp as Jimin also checked the time. Then he whined. “I have work in three hours.”

“I’m so sorry I kept you up again-”

“Yah, I’m the one who called you, remember?” More rustling before Jimin’s voice came closer. “I’ll need to let you go though. Don’t be a stranger and call me sometime. Better yet, have Heeseung call me. I’m going through withdrawals.”

“I will.”

“Okay. Bye Jeongguk, I love you!”

“Love you too-”

He bit his tongue.

Silence strangled between them. Jeongguk’s body hurt with how still he held himself, unwilling to even breathe.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin choked out. “I didn’t- it- I say that to almost every one before I hang up-”

“I know. I- it’s an automatic response.”

It hurt more than he expected.

“Okay. So not weird? I think I made it weird. Nope, it’s definitely weird-”

He hadn’t heard Jimin this flustered before. It loosened his tongue.

“Jimin, it’s only weird if you make it weird. I love you too.” He forced the words out, knowing they were true but not in quite the same context that Jimin could say them under.

They could be though. If he let them.

“See?” he pushed. “Not weird.”

He could hear Jimin exhale slowly.

“Yeah,” he agreed gingerly. “Not weird.”

“Have a good day at work, okay?”

“I will. Say hello to the boys for me.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, repeating Jimin’s soft bye and waited for the dial tone to signal the call ending. It came a few seconds later than he expected; Jimin stayed on the phone a little longer. When Jeongguk lowered his phone, he buried his burning face in his hands to hide his obvious blush. Even if there was no one to see it.

Notes:

In the earlier draft, Jk's mom was going to say, "Get that bitch out of my house, Jeongho." but I didn't think it fit.

I'm sure you all are happy to see Jimin return to the scene after two chapters without him.

These next few chapters are going to be hard to write as I bridge the gap of time and healing so please have patience with me. You can check my twitter for updates. I'll let you know if a chapter is going to be late/not coming that week. I'm also moving to Provo this week and starting college again the following week. I'm not sure what that will do to my update schedule as I readjust to school (I'm taking a Korean language class! :D ). I might have to go back to every other week, but once again, I'll let you know!
(I'd hate to do that because we're so close!!!

Chapter 28

Notes:

Hey! We're keeping the streak alive! I wrote this on Monday when I was supposed to be packing, but I didn't stop until I finished the chapter. 6K monster right here. It was actually really easy to write and I'm very happy with how it came out, so I hope you enjoy it too!

I start college this week, so we'll see what happens! (Note: I haven't written this all week since Monday 0_0 )

Disclaimer: I don't know anything about divorce laws or attorneys, so forgive me if it's inaccurate.

CW: author's oc's aside from Heejin XD

It Is What It Is - Jamie Miller

“Mom, I can’t accept this.”

She ignored him, forcing his fingers to curl over the card. He tried to hand it back, but she sidestepped him and hid behind his dad, grinning cheekily. Jungwon matched her grin on her hip. The lump in his throat grew with choked emotion.

“Until you get back on your feet, don’t hesitate to use it,” his dad added, not at all helping Jeongguk’s case. “And don’t even think about trying to pay us back. You’ll disgrace us and make us think we’re horrible parents who failed in life because we couldn’t raise our son to accept gifts or any form of help-”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” he cut him off, knowing he would continue to go on until Jeongguk genuinely felt guilty for not being more accepting of their help. He’d rather feel guilty for the amount of help they’ve given him already. Thinking of it made him automatically press in for a hug, which his dad eagerly accepted. They squeezed each other tightly before his mom got tired of waiting and wormed her way in between, making both men laugh as she handed Jungwon to his dad.

“You are always welcome here,” she whispered before they parted. “And if you need us just say the word and we’ll be there.”

He grew taller than her a long time ago, but it still surprised him in moments like this. He felt all too small, wanting to cuddle into his mom’s arms, but found himself physically too big to do so comfortably. 

A tug at the edge of his shirt had him looking down. Heeseung frowned up at him.

“It’s my turn for hugs and kisses,” he politely informed him, making the adults laugh. Jeongguk hugged his mom one more time before relinquishing his parents to his son. He accepted their hugs and kisses with bright eyes and a wide toothy smile. A vast difference from yesterday when Jeongguk told him that they were going home and that they’d be leaving halmeoni and harabeoji behind. Heeseung was definitely his son. He got attached to people quickly. A double edged sword because it hurt more when he had to leave them behind.

The sword twisted as he watched Heeseung bury his face into his dad’s shoulder, the older man rubbing a hand over his back with misty eyes. A month with their grandchildren didn’t make up for five years without them. They could demand all the videos, pictures, and video calls they wanted, but it was different than having them physically there. Jeongguk’s heart ached with the desire to change that. He didn’t tell his parents his plans to move back to Korea as soon as he was able. He didn’t want to get their hopes up or make them anticipate if it took a few months. Jeongguk expected it to take a while because getting Heejin’s legal permission would be near impossible.

His fingers twitched with the urge to touch his cheek. The bruising had long since faded, the inside of his cheek healed, but he felt phantom pain. It was startling, how the habit of rubbing his ring finger when he thought of her had been overwritten to touching his cheek. It changed into something darker and more emotionally damaging.

He hadn’t heard a word from her. He didn’t want to. He’d become increasingly aware that his life became exponentially easier without her present. The constant tiptoing the household had done with her under the roof all but disappeared. Smiles, laughter, and positive emotions came without hindrance. Jeongguk had been able to focus on himself, his children, and his preparation for the upcoming divorce. Where he once felt unsure, he became confident.

He felt more like himself than he had in years.

“Keep us updated, Jeongguk,” his mom demanded after Jeongguk armed himself with the carry-ons and Jungwon. “I want a phone call everyday.”

“You know you’ll get one.”

“I better or you and I are going to have issues, young man.” She arched an eyebrow at him, mouth pulled in a stern line. She held it for an almost uncomfortable amount of time while Jeongguk simply smiled at her. It broke as she rushed forward. “One last hug.”

After getting squeezed to death, she released him. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Eomma. Appa.”

“Fly safe.”

---

Jeongguk and his children landed in the Orlando, Florida airport, officially marking what had been a two week trip into a month long stay. Once loaded up in the van—it took a sheepish request for security to help find it in the parking garage; he nearly cried paying the parking ticket—he and his jet lagged kids drove home. Not to the blue house with the white picket fence they’d called home for four years, but to a small hostel in the form of a mobile home. For the next month—and possibly longer—that was where they’d stay.

Understandably, Heeseung was not amused.

“This isn’t our house,” he informed him empathetically, following him up the ramp. He had to raise his voice to be heard over Jungwon’s screams. He’d gotten fussy in the grocery store and lost it three miles from their destination. Distracted by him, Heeseung, and his own racing thoughts, he struggled to get the key into the lock. He was also balancing Jungwon, groceries, and their carry-ons. He didn’t believe in second trips as long as Jungwon was in no danger of getting dropped. Which he wasn’t. The eggs on the other hand…

“I know, buddy, but we’re going to stay here for a bit.”

“Are we on another vaycaytion?”

“Something like that,” Jeongguk muttered, distracted. His tired eyes couldn’t get the key to line up in the lock. The flight back had been far more exhausting than the flight in. This time he hadn’t had a kind stranger helping him along the way. Instead, they’d gotten seated next to a woman who thought she had to talk to her seat mate for the whole flight. She’d finally shut up when Heeseung promptly told her that he was trying to sleep and she was being too loud. The three of them had to put up with her indignant huffs for seven more hours, but those were much easier to ignore than her blabbering.

“When can we go home?”

“Soon, buddy we just need- finally.”

He twisted the key hard enough to get the doorknob to turn and kicked it open the rest of the way. It swung easily, and he braced his back against it to encourage Heeseung to enter first. He did so with stomping feet, crossed arms, and a prominent pout. He’d whined the entire time in the store. Jeongguk took a deep breath to keep his patience. He couldn’t blame him because they’d flown in less than two hours ago and the layover kept them both up when they should have been sleeping.

Jungwon didn’t have those issues, but he sure acted like it with how loud he was screaming. He’d been fed, changed, and didn’t have any signs of illness, so Jeongguk was mostly deaf to it.

Or just deaf completely. Jungwon had an impressive set of lungs on him and he used them. Almost as if he had to prove there weren't any lingering issues with him being a premie. Jeongguk had a feeling he’d be an excellent singer.

“Is mom here?”

The carton of eggs he’d been precariously holding slipped from his grip at the same time he’d been lifting the groceries onto the counter. They fell into the sink. At the sight of darkening soft cardboard, Jeongguk winced.

“No, Heeseung. She isn’t.”

“Workiting?”

“Probably,” he answered, preoccupied with worming his arm out of the plastic handles of the grocery bags. Some of them had gotten twisted, trying their hardest to cut off his circulation. They were mostly succeeding. “Can you take your brother?”

“No.”

“Please. I need my other hand right now and I can’t set him down-”

Jungwon hit an impressive decibel, right in Jeongguk’s ear. The thin wick of patience he ran on flickered out.

Before he could say anything he'd regret, Heeseung reached up. Blinking, Jeongguk crouched as much as he could to allow him to take his brother. Jungwon continued to wail, but it tampered with confusion as he was transferred. In the middle of the floor, Heeseung sat, put him in his lap and patted his cheeks.

“You are loud, Jungie. Daddy has a headouch so you need to be in quiet time.”

Heeseung proved more and more everyday that he saw things children his age didn’t. Jeongguk hadn't realized he’d been rubbing his temples or wincing every time Jungwon screamed particularly loud—signs that he had a headache. Heeseung did. Even more impressive, with his words Jungwon’s cries quieted as he stared at his older brother with blotchy red cheeks.

The wick of patience re-lit, joined by a small ounce of shame. He’d been about to snap at him, simply because he’d been overwhelmed. He didn’t want to think about what he would have said. Instead, he got his arm free and plopped down on the ground and pulled both of them into his lap. Groceries forgotten, he pressed fluttering kisses to their faces, making both of them giggle.

“You boys mean the world to me, you know that?” he murmured, stroking a finger along a tear stained cheek. Jungwon grabbed his finger, squeezing with more strength than ever before. “The stars in my little universe.”

“Sa!”

He pecked Jungwon’s nose, grinning. “That’s right. Star.” He hugged them tighter. “My precious, sweet, little stars.”

“Dad, you're squishing me.”

“Enjoy it, Heeseung. One day you’re going to be too big for me to squish.”

“I’m going to grow big enough to squish you!”

“I don’t doubt that for a moment.” He meant every word. “Do you know what will help you grow big?”

“Milk!”

“...yes. But also helping dad put away the groceries.” He chuckled, kissing the top of his head and loosening his tight bear hug on the two of them. Jungwon squirmed, nose scrunching as if he were going to start crying again. Without thinking, Jeongguk dragged a finger down from between his eyebrows to the tip of his nose, letting his other fingers lightly trail over his eyes. They forcibly closed and he settled. A trick he’d learned two weeks ago.

With an aching heart, Jeongguk fished his phone out of his back pocket. At the sight of it, Heeseung automatically posed. Absently wondering if he’d conditioned his kid, he snapped a photo of him before flipping the camera and putting all three of them in focus.

It got sent to three places. To his parents, to the group chat with his friends, and to Jimin with a special attachment of: Made it to Florida. We miss you.

---

Terrance insisted Jeongguk call him by his name when they first met over the phone. Before calling the office he expected the divorce attorney to be slick, oily, and hellbent on making sure Jeongguk got as much as possible out of the divorce. That’s the kind of attorney he saw on T.V, at least. But Terrance wasn’t like that, and he solidified it with their first in-person meeting. He greeted both of Jeongguk’s children on his knees, asking their names and ages. He let Heeseung babble at him for five minutes with a wide, delighted smile that crinkled his aged eyes. He couldn’t be older than Jeongguk's dad.

When an assistant took his kids to the small daycare they had, Terrance got back to his feet with a small groan and a quipped, “My knees aren’t what they used to be, but I promise my mind’s still sharp.”

It dragged a laugh out of him. “I didn’t doubt you for a moment Mr- uh. Terrance.”

They shook hands, exchanging pleasantries before Terrance gestured for him to enter the office. As the door closed behind them, he wasted no time launching into business.

“I’ve already established contact with your spouse's attorney. By the sounds of it, we’re looking at a clean divorce under collaborative law. Meaning this won’t turn into a court battle and we can discuss and handle all of the necessary issues between the four of us and other professionals hired. It’s already been petitioned to the court and I’ve got the papers for us to sign here.” He tapped a folder on his desk. “Once those are signed, we can begin the negotiation process. There are two ways we can do that. All of us can meet together, or, if you don’t want to see her during the proceedings, information will be passed between me and her attorney. It will take longer, especially if there are disagreements, but you have that option.” 

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” Terrance nodded. “The only conflicts I can foresee at this moment as we discuss is your financial standing-” Jeongguk winced. “-and the children. That’s going to be our hardest battle. You requested sole custody, but your spouse wants joint. Both physical and legal.”

A week ago, Jeongguk wouldn’t have understood the difference.

“What do I have to do to make sure I get sole custody?”

“Under collaborative law, you yell it out with your spouse,” he joked despite being entirely serious. “If that doesn’t work and we can’t come to an agreement, we take it to court. It’s a more expensive option and you have to convince the judge, not your wife, that it would be better for the children. Given the history you shared with me and all that happened in the last month, I have no doubt that you’d win.”

Jeongguk couldn’t fight the cringe or the twitch of his hand towards his face before he let it drop back into his lap. Terrance’s smile grew strained and sympathetic. Domestic abuse had been one of the first questions asked when they went over the history of his marriage. Jeongguk didn’t think one slap counted. His parents assured him it did, and Terrance wholeheartedly agreed with a chilling, “If it happened once, it’s likely to happen again.”

Presently, Terrance laced his fingers over his stomach. Regarding him across the small table, he leaned back in his creaky chair. “With that in mind, do you want to settle this in court?”

He hesitated only a moment before shaking his head. He’d like to stay out of court if possible. That would make it messier than he wanted it to be. How this could get any messier he didn’t know, but he didn’t want to find out.

“Collaberative law is fine. For now. Can we reassess later down the road?”

“Certainly. I shouldn’t tell you this, but I’m far more comfortable with collaborative—I’m not good at public speaking under pressure.”

Jeongguk found himself lucky that out of all the offices in Florida he could have called, Terrance’s had somehow ended up at the top of his list. With each smile and humorous comment the stress slipped off his shoulders. 

“Have you been in contact with your spouse recently?”

“Not since she left.”

“She hasn’t made any efforts to establish communication with you or your children?”

“No.” He made no efforts to block her. Heeseung had occasionally asked to call her. Jeongguk denied him with excuses every time and he didn’t push the issue. Maybe he should feel guiltier for intentionally keeping them from her, but she’d hurt them enough.

Terrance hummed and ran a hand through his peppered hair. “Under Florida law minor children should have frequent contact with both parents even during separation. At this point she should have been made aware of her rights by her attorney, so if she hasn’t made complaints or requests for contact I would say continue as you are now. This actually helps our case. The longer she goes without making an attempt to see her children, the more basis you have for sole custody.”

For once in his life, Jeongguk thanked his wife for her tendency to let her priorities slip.

“With all that in consideration, let’s sign these papers, shall we? Then the real work can get started.”

Since he met the man, Jeongguk saw no signs of the attorneys portrayed in the media. But when he passed him a pen, he caught the glimmer in the other man’s eyes as he smiled. Like a fox that finished playing a trick. He should have been alarmed by it, but he wasn’t. Not when his smile grew into a shark’s bite as he declared,

“Don’t worry, Mr. Jeon. You can sit back and relax. I’m here to make sure this turns out in your favor and I’m quite good at my job.”

Jeongguk took the pen from his fingers, giving his own sharp smile.

“Please. Call me Jeongguk.”

---

“If I ever get divorced, I’m hiring him.”

“...should I be worried?”

Jeongguk bit back a laugh as he glanced up in time to see Seokjin roll his eyes at his husband. He’d just finished telling the couple about his appointment yesterday, both of them having a night in after finishing their respective schedules. The afternoon he’d reconnected with Jimin, he found the courage to ask them when they were free to talk. The answer had been an immediate phone call in which he ended up spilling his guts. Their reactions had been quite validating and he got reassurance that he was making the right decision. At their request he’d been keeping them updated on all the legal proceedings. He also had to promise to call one of them if he needed someone to talk to. Whether a distraction, a sounding board, a rant buddy—Seokjin called dibs on that one—they made it clear they would be there for him.

Jeongguk had gone into this feeling completely alone. And with one phone call, that changed.

“He can’t divorce you, hyung. That’d ruin the dreams of being a trophy husband.”

While Namjoon choked in laughter, Seokjin only sighed. “You’ve got that backwards, Guk. Joon is the one who wants to be the trophy husband.”

“Despite the negative connotations, it sounds comfortable. I could finally relax.”

He giggled, quickly lifting his pen from the paper so he didn’t make a mistake. A few feet away, both his children were distracted by cartoons. He’d spent the past hour with them at the park before bringing them back to the hostel so he could begin working on the commissions he’d picked up. He spent hours when he was with his parents researching marketing, art pricing, and how to expand his network. He ended up scrolling through all those that followed him and followed back accounts related to art because it showed he cared about the community he was a part of, which would increase credibility, and bring more consumers. Truthfully, Jeongguk didn’t understand any of it, but he had to start somewhere. He was pleased to find the tattoo parlor he’d gone to with Jimin followed him. Following them back, he reposted the picture of his tattoo and opened up commissions for people to request their own design.

Within an hour he’d gotten nearly forty direct messages with requests from all three tiers. He had to close commissions so he didn’t get overwhelmed. The joys of having nearly fifty million followers. But Jeongguk would never, ever complain because they were literally allowing him to financially provide for his children.

This week was a trial run of how much he could take on while still creating high quality pieces, not getting burned out, and staying present in his children’s lives. So far the balancing act was going well, but the business side of it already had some flaws. He’d made the mistake of not factoring shipping costs of delivering non-digital pieces and the packaging—including what type to make sure it wasn’t damaged in transit—to ship it in. Jeongguk would still make a profit, but not as much as he could have.

Oh. And he forgot he didn’t have his drawing tablet with him. That sat in the office in his wife's house. Jeongguk would have to get it at some point during the week to fulfill the three digital designs he’d taken on. The thought made him ill.

“Look at that Joon-ah, he’s in the void again.”

“I’m starting to think he can see spirits.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in that kind of thing.”

It was Jeongguk’s turn to roll his eyes. He gave them his best deadpan look, hoping it was effective through technology. “You both should change careers and get into comedy. You’d be a hit.”

“Baby, I’m already a comedian.” Namjoon snorted then keeled over as Seokjin elbowed him in the gut. “Do you know how many comedy shows I’ve been on? I'm the epitome of comedy. Here, listen to this. What do you call a three humped camel?”

“You’re stealing that from a movie.”

“They stole it from me. Now, what do you call a three humped camel?”

“Pregnant.”

“Aish you stole my line you brat.”

All three of them broke into laughter. Jeongguk mentally filed away the expression on his hyungs’ faces to copy into his family sketchbook, adding it to the others he’d begun drawing. It wouldn’t consist solely of his kids and his wife because Jeongguk was quickly finding that he had more family than he thought.

---

I want to see the boys. Can you bring them by the house today?

No phone call. Just a text that didn't eve explanation why she hadn’t reached out before then. He was surprised she phrased it as a question instead of a demand. It wasn’t the first thing he wanted to see waking up in the morning. He screenshotted the text and sent it to Terrance, asking if he had to try and meet her request. He got an unfortunate yes in response. Jeongguk kept quiet as he got himself ready for the day. When he returned to the bedroom the three of them were sharing, he roused Heeseung with a soft, “Hey buddy. We’re going to go see mom today.”

Jeongguk felt vindictively pleased when Heeseung didn’t get ready faster than he would any other day. He took that as permission to drag his feet in making breakfast, getting his little brother dressed and ready, and even responding to Heejin. As he got them strapped in the van—Heeseung finally exhibiting off-the-rails excitement—he mentally catalogued what he would have to get from the house. Realistically he wouldn’t be able to make a dent in getting his things out of there, never mind having the space to store it, but he could grab the essentials. He needed to look into getting a storage unit and hopefully by the time he needed it he’d have made enough to not need to use his parents card.

Thoughts of what he needed to grab for himself had turned into what he needed to grab for the kids by the time he turned down their street. Everything around him blurred as he focused on the picket fence and blue siding. He’d given the fence a paintjob when they’d first moved in. It was due for a new one.

He didn’t feel present as he parked in the driveway, right behind Heejin’s car. It was a dream. A very lucid dream he could wake up from at any moment. The most disorienting thing was not knowing where he’d be when he woke up. Would he be in the bedroom he shared with her? Would he be in his childhood home? Or maybe his parent's guest room? On someone’s couch? It was startling, realizing he didn’t know what to call home anymore. There were places he held memories, places he felt safe, and places he’d been, but none of them were home.

This had been his home once. The physical aspect of it. Emotionally, it had been Heejin.

Jeongguk never understood the term homewrecker until now. Yugyeom had used it in relation to himself, but it felt wrong. It didn’t apply to him as an unknowing participant. He wasn’t the one who wrecked everything. That was Heejin and her choices. She’d ripped apart their marriage, displacing their children and him physically and emotionally. Took away the comfort, safety, and love they should have felt, connected to her. She fit the definition well.

Seeing her now, waiting in the doorway for them, the complete lack of any feelings towards her shocked him. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even sad. Looking at her now, he simply saw a woman who’d make poor choices and now suffered the consequences. When she said she’d lost everything, she meant it. That wasn’t to say Jeongguk also hadn’t lost things, pieces of his life that at one point had been near and dear to him, but while she continued to lose, Jeongguk gained. He strengthened his relationship with his parents, found an entire group of friends, a select few of them demanding to be a prominent part of his life, and was learning how to be a separate entity from her.

He lied. He did feel something.

Pity.

He pitied her. Not enough to let his walls down, but enough to sorrow over the situation she’d put herself in. They’d never come down for her again, but he wouldn’t forget that he once cared for her. Still did, in a twisted form of obligation. That’s what pushed him to get out of the car, seconds after Heeseung had already opened his door and went streaking to launch himself at her. He watched them out of the corner of his eye as he collected Jungwon.

Heeseung had excitedly launched into a story by the time Jeongguk made it to the door. He knew she wasn’t even listening to him; her eyes were on Jeongguk, pinched in deep seeded pain. She opened her mouth, but Jeongguk beat her to it.

“Heeseung, why don’t you go around back and say hi to Pepper.” He needed to remove him from the situation first. By the set of her shoulders, Jeongguk knew he was in for an argument.

“Okay!” He wiggled until Heejin set him down, racing around the side of the house, screaming for their old dog. Out of sight, Jeongguk let his smile drop. “How long do you want them?”

“I—can’t we discuss that later?” she begged, tiny in ways she’d never been before. “Jeongguk, I want-”

“The only reason I’m here right now is because legally I can’t refuse your requests to see them,” he cut in emotionlessly. “So tell me how long you’ll have them and then I’ll come back to get them. Tomorrow we’ll discuss what system we want to put in place until we come to an agreement on custody-”

“You can’t kick me out of their lives-”

“Don’t argue with me about this without my attorney present.”

“You’re actually doing this right now.” She raked her hands through her hair, the dark strands lacking their usual volume. “Why won’t you talk to me-?”

“Because that’s not what I’m here to do. I’m here to get a few of my things and let you see the kids. I’m not sticking around.” He punctuated it by brushing past her into their home. He’d been gone long enough that it smelled different to him. On autopilot he set Jungwon in his room before heading to his own. Easily finding a backpack, he began packing away the things he’d mentally created a list of.  As he expected, Heejin trailed after him.

“Jeongguk, you haven’t even been home. I didn’t know you came back until Leslie told me. There wasn’t a record of you purchasing plane tickets at all on our accounts. Where have you even been staying?”

“All you need to know is that I’m taking care of myself and the boys. We’re fine. Now, how long are you keeping them? If it’s later than three my parents are expecting to talk with them around seven. I’ll let them know to call you instead-”

“This is ridiculous!”

He didn’t give her outburst a response as he slid into the office. Papers coated almost every surface of the usually spotless area. Seeing that cued him in that all of the rooms he’d been through weren’t as clean as he’d left them. Heejin had gotten used to Jeongguk picking up after her. Another bullet point added to his list of Things I Ignored That Annoyed Me. He brushed papers aside, easily finding the tablet where he’d left it along with the laptop he often connected it to. He crouched to get the charging cable from the powerstrip.

“Jeongguk, please. Can you stop and look at me for two seconds?”

He snapped up from his crouch, cable in hand. He hastily wound it, stacking it on top of his gathered electronics. Raising his eyebrows, he turned to her. Heejin blinked at him, clearly shocked he’d paused to listen. For a moment they stared at each other, then Jeongguk resumed his activity with a bored, “Your two seconds are up.”

She spluttered as he once again brushed past her, jamming the computer and tablet in his bag at the same time. That finished off the art supplies. Now he just needed-

He could have been Spider-Man with how fast he jerked away when she tried to put her hand on his arm. Whether to grab or just to touch, he didn’t know or care to find out. He took several steps from her, holding the bag to his chest as if a shield. She didn’t follow, porcelain pale as her hand dropped back to her side.

“Jeongguk-”

“I’m not here to talk, Heejin. There are no reparations we can make anymore,” he declared, steel-voiced. He took another step back from her, zipping up the bag and throwing it over his shoulder. “You burned that bridge when you hit me. We’re done. Disrespecting the boundaries I’ve set is only going to dig your hole deeper. So I’m going to ask for the last time. How long will you have my kids and when should I retrieve them?”

She trembled where she stood. Jeongguk had no desire to comfort her.

“Tomorrow,” she whispered. “I’ll bring them with me when we meet with our attorneys.”

“Then I’ll let my parents know to call you at seven. I’m going to say bye to the boys. Can you get Heeseung from the yard?”

He didn’t wait to see if she complied, skirting around her to slip back into Jungwon’s room. He’d curled around a blanket left on the floor, staring at the ceiling as if there was something fascinating about it. Jeongguk swiftly kissed his forehead.

“Hey Jungie, dad’s going to leave you with mom, kay? I’ll see you tomorrow though. Be good for her and your brother.” He patted his stomach, trying to ignore the fact that his hands were shaking. “I love you.”

Jungwon blinked, grinned, and tipped Jeongguk’s entire world over when he clearly said, “Love!”

When Heeseung was Jungwon’s age, he was constantly chattering with as many words as he could manage. He’d walked everywhere as if unable to wait for the world to catch up with him. Jungwon proved to be the exact opposite. He should be talking by this point. He should be walking. But he’d been content to take it slow. Jeongguk had expressed concern at a doctor's visit, but they reassured him that the expected timelines weren’t going to fit every child. So he practiced patience and waited for Jungwon when he was ready. His first real cognizant word had been no, followed by incomplete dad’s, mom’s, and syllables of people's names. This marked the second word he’d ever said.

“Did you say love, little guy?” he murmured, trying his hardest not to cry. “Do you love daddy?”

“Da love,” he confirmed with a head bob. It re-righted his world. He scooped him up, rolled onto his back and squeezed him as tight as he dared. Jungwon giggled, open mouthed and delighted.

“Cuddle pile!”

Panic shot through him. “Heeseung, wait-”

His son did not wait. Heeseung jumped on both of them, thankfully angling away from Jungwon but managing to hit Jeongguk in all the worst places. While he groaned in earth shattering pain, Heeseung laughed right along with Jungwon.

Heejin never joined them.

---

Jeongguk regretted putting two appointments on the same day, but he couldn’t put this one off. If he dodged once, it would be far too easy to dodge the second time. That didn’t stop him from waiting in his van until the last possible second, staring blankly at the building in front of him. He wanted to argue that he didn’t have the money to do this; pretty soon he wouldn’t have the insurance to change hundreds of dollars into a small co-pay. All the more reason to back out.

But he’d told his mom he’d try.

Sighing, he pulled the keys out of the ignition. Tucking them away into his hoodie pocket, he entered the small waiting room. The receptionist smiled, alerted by the bell attached to the door.

“Hello! How are you doing today?”

“Good,” he cleared his throat, trying to make himself sound more sure of himself. “How are you?”

“Also doing good, thank you for asking.” He pushed away from his computer, bracing his arms against the desk to give him his full attention. His eyes were very blue. “Are you here for an appointment or to set one up?”

“An appointment. I’m here to see Kennedy?”

“Oh yes, I think I saw you in the system. I’m terrible at name pronunciation if it’s not like, Bob.” He grinned, tilting his head slightly. “Help me out?”

“Jeongguk,” he said slowly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The receptionist, Zachary, if the nametag on his shirt was correct, pushed back his chair with another grin.

“Cute name. I’ll let her know you’re here. You’re welcome to take a seat! I’ll be back in a moment.”

He stood there for a moment, before clumsily sitting down in the nearest chair. That hadn’t been too hard. Definitely not as bad as the first time he’d walked into a therapy office.

He didn’t have to wait long at all, Zachary popping back into the room with a skip in his step. At his heels was a woman with auburn hair who smirked more than smiled as she saw him. She crossed the room in two, sure steps as he rose to his feet. What she lacked in height she made up with presence.

“Jeongguk,” she greeted. “I’m Kennedy. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You as well.”

“If you can follow me we can head into my office and get started. I’m only going to ask a few basic questions today so the appointment won’t be longer than thirty minutes.”

It wasn’t like he had anywhere to be. Since leaving his kids with Heejin, he’d zombied around the hostel, doing nothing but drawing. There wasn’t another way to distract himself from how they were doing. If he wasn’t drawing, he was obsessively checking his phone for texts. He had to move his phone to the other room to stop himself from texting her with demands to know how they were doing. He’d knocked out three commissions that evening and had managed two that morning. He worried about the quality but- he shook his head, trying not to get sucked into work brain as he followed Kennedy into the room.

He zeroed in on the couch loaded up with pillows and blankets, catching the mood light in the middle of the table. There wasn’t a desk, but a small low table situated in front of a beanbag. Kennedy plopped into it crisscrossed and gestured towards the couch while she flipped open the laptop on the surface. Its back was overcrowded with stickers.

“You can sit there or on the floor. I’ve got another beanbag if you want that too. Whatever makes you comfortable. Sucker?”

She pointed to a bowl at the edge of the table. Jeongguk shook his head, gingerly sinking into the couch. Kennedy glanced up at him, mouth twisting into a small frown. She closed her laptop, grabbed something under the table, and tossed it to him. Jeongguk caught it with a jump, blinking down at it. A pack of tissues…?

“Very unprofessional of me, but we can deal with the legal crap later. You look two seconds from crying so let’s talk. Why are you here to talk to me, Jeongguk?”

He sucked in a harsh breath.

"Its... a long story."

She leaned on her elbows giving him an eager look.

"I like stories."

Notes:

1) Most if not all of the divorce information in this chapter comes from my understanding of this article: https://www.floridabar.org/public/consumer/pamphlet010/#child
I thought I'd give it to ya'll in case you wanted to read up on divorce in Florida

2) My autocorrect randomly wanted to change Heeseung's name to Cheeseung. I don't know why or how. I've never had this happen before.

3) Now, I actually don't like the endearment 'baby' and I think I'd get arrested for attempted murder if anyone tried to call me that. But there's something about Seokjin using it as a platonic pet name for his friends that gets to me. I'm completely normal about this I promise.

4) I know people are going to be a little upset that he let Heejin take the kids given what he experienced last chapter, but he doesn't want to make it messy and possibly hinder his own ability to keep his children with him.

5) I almost switched Terrance and Kennedy because I wanted a really awesome bad girl attorney, but it's been done so I let Terrance keep his job. Also, I have this strange head cannon that randomly appeared between him and Leslie, who you have not met yet, in which they totally have crushes on each other and it's cute because they're just two guys in their forties/fifties married to their jobs. Anyway. Who cares about them.

6) SIX CHAPTERS AND AN EPILOGUE LEFT!
(...I also have planned a one shot... in the means that it's in my head and not written down)

7) Sorry there wasn't any Jimin in this chapter! He was there in the background, I promise, just not on screen.

Chapter 29

Notes:

:DDDDDDD
*Looks at word count*
*Looks at this chapter*
HEHEHHEHEHEHHEHEHEHHE THIS CHAPTER IS 10K

10K!!!!! LONGEST CHAPTER TO DATE FOR THIS FIC

I had. SO. MUCH. FUN

So I really, really hope you enjoy this!

(p.s college is fun. but time consuming. My first FULL week is this week and I'm also working early mornings soooo let's see how this goes ahhahahahahhahahhahahhahaha. my brain hurts tho because learning korean is HARD HOLY CRAP WHY COULDN'T I HAVE JUST BEEN RAISED IN THE COUNTRY SO I'D ALREADY KNOW IT. I'm such a 바보. T-T )

There wasn’t a chance of hiding his tear swollen eyes. What had been a thirty minute introductory meeting turned into an hour and a half trauma dump. He’d cried through most of it, using the entire pack of tissues Kennedy had given him. It had been his luck that she didn’t have any appointments until that afternoon. Even luckier that he found the most down to earth therapist on the face of the planet.

Kennedy, Terrance, his new friends, Jimin… he was terrified he was using all his luck, draining himself dry. He needed to keep some of it for the divorce proceedings. He was far too exhausted to have any interest in tackling those, but it didn’t stop him from arriving at Knight Family Law.

Approaching the building, he relaxed upon seeing Terrance waiting for him up front, sharp in a dark green suit and classy black tie. He smiled on sight.

“No children with you today?” he questioned once Jeongguk joined him.

“Heejin has them. She’s supposed to bring them to the meeting-”

He jerked back as the door swung open, nearly clocking him in the face. It still could have if Tearrance hadn’t grabbed it lighting fast, stopping it from opening further. They both peered at the opener, Jeongguk having to tilt his chin up to meet their eyes.

“Oops, sorry. I should have looked before trying to bolt outside-”

“Had your eyes glued to your phone again, Mr. Knight?”

The tall man straightened, brown eyes falling to Terrance. He smiled, bringing light into his face.

“You know me a little too well, Tearrance.” He grinned back. The soft, gooeyness of it was certainly not platonic. Jeongguk looked between them in wonder—what was the nature of their relationship? As far as he knew, Terrance wasn’t married. “What’s with this Mr. Knight nonsense? You’ve never had issues calling me by name.”

“Normally I would, Leslie-” their smiles grew. “-but given the clients we represent-” he gestured to Jeongguk. “-let’s engage in a little more professionalism.”

Leslie’s eyes sharpened. His smile shifted from warm and knowing to guarded and polite. It made him look older.  “I see. Mr. Jeon, my apologies for not introducing myself. I’m Leslie Knight, your spouse’s attorney.”

He knew the name sounded familiar.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Knight,” he greeted politely. He didn’t know whether to be on guard or not. Leslie seemed like a kind man, but he also represented Heejin. Jeongguk couldn’t trust him, even if he was just doing a job he was hired for.

“Is your client already here?”

“Yes. I was coming outside just in case you weren't able to find the meeting room. You may know your way around the law, but you certainly don’t know directions.” He stepped back to let them both enter. Jeongguk let himself fade into the background, observing the two men carefully.

“That’s what receptionists are for.”

“Carter’s on lunch. Besides, you know I enjoy a more personal touch.”

“Yes, I suppose you do.”

They spoke with lighthearted innocence, but the glances shared between them spoke of something entirely different. Jeongguk didn’t want to make assumptions, but he was pretty sure they were flirting. Or maybe it was some kind of disarming technique? He was terrified to ask, and frankly, he didn’t want to know.

All thoughts of their strange dynamics fled when they turned the corner. Down the hall stood Heejin and his children. His oldest sat on the floor, humming to himself as he played on her phone. The youngest squirmed in her arms, clearly fussy and miserable while Heejin attempted to keep him calm. It wasn’t difficult at all for him to locate the problem.

“Are you crazy?” he exclaimed, crossing the distance in quick strides. He took Jungwon from her with no resistance and immediately unzipped the snowflake onesie. Jungwon was more than happy to assist in the removal of his arms from the fuzzy sleeves. “It’s the middle of summer!”

“We were going to be inside,” she bit back, sounding just as exhausted as he felt. She hadn’t slept the night before—he could tell. “I didn’t think it’d be an issue-”

“Jungwon already runs hot,” he snapped, peeling it away from his shoulders. He was hot and sweaty in his arms. “You chose literally the hottest article of clothing he owns. And these are pajamas. I left him with you for one day-”

“Jeongguk.”

He almost snapped what at the man, but the warning in Terrance’s eyes made him swallow it back. He jerked his chin, guiding him to look down at Heeseung. He stared up at him with wide eyes, pale hands gripping the phone.

I’m scaring him again, he thought, horrified. He immediately dropped to a crouch.

“Sorry, Heeseung. I shouldn’t have yelled. That was wrong of me.”

“Did mommy do something bad again?” he whispered. Heejin made a small noise that Jeongguk spoke over.

“No, she didn’t-”

“Daddy’s mad tho.” His nose scrunched.

“I know.” He wouldn’t refute it. “I’m mad at myself, Heeseung, because I made a mistake. I don’t like making mistakes so I’m frustrated.”

“Trustfrated?”

He cracked a smile. “Frust-trated.”

“Oh.”

“It’s a big word but you said it well.”

Heeseung brightened and preened under the praise, momentarily distracted from Jeongguk’s ill chosen outburst. But all too soon he leaned forward and whispered,  “Is daddy still hurting? Because mommy and daddy are being mean to each other? Are you going to make up soon?”

That lanced him straight through to the heart.

“Oh boy,” Leslie said under his breath. “Why don’t we move this conversation into the room? Terran—Mr. Porter and I will get everyone some coffee and give you some time to yourselves.”

While Heeseung looked up at the adults in confusion, Jeongguk forced out a quiet thank you before getting back to his feet. He held out his free hand to Heeseung, helping to pick him up as well. Heejin stood back, head hung low and arms crossed. Terrance held open the door for them, mouthing text me to Jeongguk. Supposedly to tell the two attorneys when they were done having a life changing conversation with their children.

Jeongguk had thought this over a million times in his head. What to say. How to approach it. What to do in the aftermath given his reaction. He knew as he sat Heeseung down in one of the fancy padded chairs, pulling one to sit across from him, that this would be the hardest conversation he’d ever had in his life. Everything he had prepared disappeared, leaving him wordless. One glance at Heejin told him that she would be absolutely no help. She stood by the door, wallowing in her own self pity. Not even a part of their sphere.

“Daddy?” Heeseung prompted, childish eyes wide as they could go.

“Heeseung, I-” Tears welled up in his eyes. “Buddy. I want you to know that I love you. So, so much, okay? And I thought about you and your brother a lot when considering this.”

His eyebrows dipped into a furrow. Even Jungwon knew something was up, leaning away from Jeongguk to squint at him.

He took a deep breath.

“Mom and I… we’re not going to make up. We’re… we’re getting divorced.”

He knew he didn’t understand. Not yet. The gears were turning but not yet connecting.

“Have you heard that word before, Heeseung?”

He began to shake his head, but it turned into an abrupt nod with wide eyes.

“Uncle Jiminie said it’s the big word for unmarried.”

Jeongguk’s eyes shuttered shut. He’d forgotten about the conversation they’d had in Heeseung’s hospital room. Even without trying Jimin was helping him.

“What do you remember Uncle Jiminie telling you about that, Heeseung?”

“He—he said it happened when people were bad to each other.” He nodded along. With his eyes closed, he could see himself in the room partially hidden by the door. “When they’re mean. And… and unhappy. Daddy, are you unhappy?” Heeseung asked the question quickly, almost with panic. “Is that why you’re mad at mommy? Is that why you’re getting unmarried?”

Jeongguk needed to answer him, but he couldn’t get his voice to work. All he could do was open his eyes, blinking rapidly to clear the tears that built up. Heeseung’s eyes darted from him to Heejin, clearly becoming more distressed.

“You were bad to each other?” he asked it as if he couldn’t comprehend it. “W-why? Did you do something wrong? Did—did mom? I don’t-” he curled into himself, bottom lip wobbling. “I don’t like this.”

With that declaration, he began to cry. It got Jeongguk finally moving. He nearly tumbled out of his chair, setting Jungwon down to free his hands as he dragged him into a tight hug. Heeseung clung to him, the contact opening the floodgates as he wailed and sobbed.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out. “Heseeung, I’m so, so sorry.”

It broke down the final wall, leaving him entirely vulnerable before him. Stripped bare for him to see just how much Jeongguk had been rotting inside.

I’m sorry.

---

Let’s break this down into truths you believe about yourself. This is the list I got from what you’ve told me. I want you to rank each one on a scale of 1-5. One is that I’m batshit crazy and didn’t understand a thing you said. Five is that I’m spot on and should buy a lottery ticket. So, here’s the list. “I wasn’t good enough, I should have seen the signs, I’ll never be able to move on, I’ll always be paranoid, and my future relationships are doomed.” Yeah, I know. Pretty dramatic, right? Except they aren’t. Because these truths are built on what you feel, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself otherwise.

---

“I don’t know what to do, Appa,” he croaked, staring listlessly at the front door. He had no explanation of why he was sitting underneath the tiny table, caged in by the chairs. Only three numbers glowed green from the microwave, announcing it to be far too early in the morning for him to be awake. But Heeseung had finally fallen asleep after waking up in the middle of the night and having another sobbing fit.

“You need to give it time, Jeongguk. This is going to be a shock to him-”

“I need to do something now. He’s in so much pain. All because I decided to-”

“Jeongguk. Stop. It,” his dad nearly growled. Jeongguk cringed, curling into himself. “Stop torturing yourself. You know that this is the right choice. Yes, it’s going to hurt. For you and for Heeseung. But what would be worse? Severing that line or making him think his parents are happy when they’re not? Do you really want to continue to lie to him?”

“N-no, I just- I never wanted to hurt him. I never want to hurt him. You didn’t see him, appa. When I told him he was crushed. And he didn’t even fully understand. He—he asked if it meant that he’d never see me or Heejin again and I don’t- I don’t think I can do this. This is the second day since and he still hasn’t-”

“Take a deep breath.”

“I can’t-”

“Guk-ah, you need to calm down. You’re working yourself up too much. Breathe in.”

It was disgusting, how difficult it was for him to comply. He forced himself to breathe evenly until he felt exhaustion kick in. He swayed forward, leaning his forehead against the table leg. Breathing normally didn’t stop him from choking on a sob. One that he’d kept buried throughout the whole day every time Heeseung’s smiles dimmed as he remembered his parents were getting unmarried. Jeongguk knew he couldn’t do this if Heeseung kept asking him if it was his fault.

It’s not your fault, he’d told him over and over again. It didn’t seem to make a difference.

“Appa,” he cried, a fresh wave tipping over. “He thinks I don’t love him anymore.”

“Oh Guk…”

“ He asked me if that’s why I left him with Heejin. Before—before I told him. He thinks I’m going to leave him. I don’t- how do I combat that? How do I convince him that I want him when I’m supposed to give him back to Heejin tomorrow?”

His dad was quiet for a long, long time. Eventually, the man Jeongguk looked to for advice in his toughest moments, answered his question with a tear stained,

“There isn’t anything else to do but continue to show him that you love him. Be consistent and don’t give him any reason within your control to doubt.”

His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, terrified to let it fall to ask the question he knew had a yes as its answer. Of course he loved him. That didn’t stop the dark voice in his mind trying to convince him that he didn’t. After all, if he loved his son he wouldn’t be putting him through this. He’d stick it out and…

You deserve to be happy.

Jeongguk squeezed his eyes shut, grasping at the memory. Another surfaced of a red-haired woman vehemently telling him, it is a thousand times more difficult to show care for those around you if you don’t show the same care for yourself. It’s basic math. One times one equals one. If you’re trying to multiply by zero, guess what you’re going to get? A big fat zero, Jeongguk. Stop trying to make an already difficult situation worse by giving yourself nothing. If you continue doing that, you’re going to end up dividing by zero and that NEVER turns out well.

“How did you do it, dad?” he asked, sniffling once he’d calmed down some more. “How did you hold yourself together whenever hyung or I were hurting?”

“I didn’t.” He didn’t hesitate. “Jeongguk, I never did. I cried every time you were hurting and I couldn’t fix it. I—I’m still crying. Because you’re hurting and there’s nothing I can do.”

“Dad, you are doing something though.” The thought of his father crying over him, over this situation, tore out his already tattered heart. “You’re listening to me. You—you’re here-”

“And you’re doing the same for your son. You’re doing everything you possibly can. You don’t even know how proud I am whenever I see you with your boys—you are the best father I know. This rough patch isn’t going to make you less of one.”

“I learned from you,” he rasped. “Appa, you are the best father anyone could ask for.”

His light chuckles were wet. “That’s not what you told me when you were in high school.”

“High school me was an idiot,” he forced out with a wet, choking laugh. “I’m sorry for always being a mess when I call you.”

“I promised that I’d always be here for you, Jeongguk-ah. Never be afraid to show yourself to me at your worst. We can always get through it together.”

“I love you, dad.”

“I love you too. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

“I will.” 

“Jeongguk.” He caught him before could hang up. “That’s what you do. Every opportunity you have, tell Heeseung and Jungwon that you love them. Even if it doesn’t help now, it will help later. Because all they’ll remember is that their dad always told them that he loved them. Just like I remember.”

As Jeongguk crawled into bed next to his sons, the two of them clutching at each other’s shirts, he fell asleep recounting every time he heard his dad tell him he loved him.

He didn’t even get close to the present day.

---

“I should have seen the signs.” This one hurts. You’ve told me a bit about this. The doubts you were beginning to have that you pushed away. You trusted her, and you felt like you were being unfair by having those thoughts. That’s a tough pill to swallow. Especially since in hindsight you have the annoying whisper of “I was right” and “why didn’t I confront her earlier”. The question I have for you is, “What would have changed had you seen them and addressed them?” The fact of the matter is, Jeongguk, that it would have led to you getting divorced earlier. Seeing the signs wouldn’t have changed her decisions or your own.

---

“...financial records from the past three weeks and the expected income by the end of the year. With the selling of the house and the agreement on dividing the accounts equally it’s determined that…”

“...debts are divided between the parties at an unequal value. I’m of the understanding that your client made the request given that my client supported her throughout her schooling. In overviewing the documents provided we are in agreement of this proposal…”

“...durational alimony is irrefutable given my client’s situation with finances, education, and contributions to the home. I understand you’re requesting bridge-the-gap, but it does not provide enough stability for…”

Jeongguk slammed the car door closed, fumbling to shove his keys in his bag as he sped walked through the parking lot to the building. Of all the days to be late, it had to be today. He couldn’t help but be grateful that he didn’t have the boys otherwise he would have been at least another ten minutes behind schedule.

“There you are!” Terrance exclaimed when he burst through the doors into the lobby. “We thought we would have to reschedule-”

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out. “I wasn’t paying attention to the time and my therapy appointment went over-”

The greying attorney waved him off, reaching over to help Jeongguk zip up his bag. His eyes were big and wild as he murmured, “This is the big meeting. We’re talking about-”

“Custody and child support. I know. They still haven’t redacted their initial proposal for joint?”

“No, which means we’re in for a battle. Especially when I show them your proposed parenting plan and the fact that you want to move across the world next summer. I still think you’re crazy, by the way.”

Jeongguk snorted and flashed him a smirk. “I’m paying you to make sure I get what I want, not to advise me against it.”

“Jeongguk, I really think you should look into becoming a lawyer or an attorney.” Terrance nudged him with his shoulder, giving him a now familiar shark grin. Working together for nearly a month would do that. “You’d be disgustingly good at it.”

“Yeah, after drowning myself in student debt and selling my soul. I’ve got two kids to provide for—I don’t have the time or money for that-” Jeongguk cut himself off at the scream of “Daddy!” That echoed down the hall. He dropped to the ground, backpack thumping painfully but he fought it back with a blinding grin as Heeseung slammed into him.

“Hey buddy!” He squeezed him tight, picking him up and swinging him around. He giggled with laughter and not convincing requests to be put down. “How are you doing- oh bud you’ve got a sunburn.”

“Yeah! Mommy took me and Jungie to the beach.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratable whisper. “She forgot to bring some and told me not to tell you.”

“Did she now?” he questioned, lifting his eyes to the woman still sitting in the chairs outside their regular meeting room. She rolled her eyes at him and returned to scrolling through her phone. Jungwon wasn’t in sight. “Where’s-”

“Already in the daycare. Heeseung wanted to wait for you.”

Ignoring her bored drawl, Jeongguk turned back to his son. “Aww thanks buddy. After my meeting we’re going back to my house, okay?”

Heeseung’s smile faltered. “I want to play with Tucker in my room though.”

“Oh. Is it your room you want to play in or with a specific toy?”

It had gotten easier over the weeks for Heeseung to get used to being split between him and Heejin in terms of time and places. Emotionally, he was still all over the place. They didn’t get through a week without at least three breakdowns. Jeongguk didn’t get through a week without three breakdowns.

Therapy helped. His parents helped. Seokjin and Namjoon helped. Hoseok recently joined the charge. He dropped his mixtape last week and Jeongguk got up the courage to call him up and congratulate him, snarkily asking for an autograph. They’d gotten to talking and he’d asked about Heejin. Jeongguk admitted he was in the middle of getting divorced, in which Hoseok made the highest pitched noise he’d ever heard into his ear.

Jeongguk repeated the story, a pro at doing so at this point. Kennedy told him he didn’t need to hide it like a dirty secret. It helped him feel more in control when he didn’t have to force a smile and weave a different tale.

After hearing everything that happened, Hoseok demanded to be added to the conference calls he had with Namjoon and Seokjin. He helped.

Jimin helped.

Jeongguk couldn’t stop the twitch of a smile his mouth attempted to produce at the memory that he’d be calling tonight. They had a schedule now. Monday nights he’d call and talk to the boys—both of them now that Jungwon decided his vow of silence was over. He still didn’t say much, but he always greeted Jimin with a smile and a Min! through the phone. They’d talk until bedtime, in which Jimin would hang up only for Jeongguk to call him back when the boys were asleep. They’d spend the next two hours talking while Jeongguk drew.

As friends. He didn’t let himself think of them as anything more. He knew they were both being careful with what they said to each other. It had been hard in the beginning, but now Jeongguk didn’t fear he’d say something out of line and he no longer tripped over the I love you’s they’d exchange at the end of the phone call. 

He’d been guilty about that for maybe a week before blurting it out to Kennedy. She threatened to hit him for being stupid over a common phrase. He’d gotten used to her threats by now. She was all bark and no bite. Sometimes.

“My room.” Heeseung pouted, a sign he was preparing himself for Jeongguk’s no. He’d had to tell him no a lot lately.

“Heeseung-”

“I’m flying out of Florida tonight for a meeting in Wisconsin,” Heejin spoke up. “You still have a key, don’t you?”

He did. Despite his best attempts to give it back or lose it whenever he came by to clean out more of his things it always ended up back on his keyring. Her attempts at copium, he supposed. It wasn’t difficult to see she was struggling by her unkempt appearances, deep eyebags, and constant frowning. After shutting down her repeated attempts to talk outside of their meetings with their attorney’s, she’d given up on talking to him at all.

By the end of this, Jeongguk would be a king at reading facial expressions. Incoming charade’s champion.

“I do,” he reaffirmed. “How long are you out of town?”

“Two days.”

That would give him enough time to finish moving his things to the storage unit. Then he could get started on the touch-ups on the house so they could get it sold. Then he could finally stop paying for the hostel and have the money to get a two bedroom apartment. He was tired of waking up with bruises from Heeseung’s night kicking.

“Then I guess we’re going back to mom’s house.” He grinned at Heeseung, getting an excited wiggle in return. Setting him down, he nudged him towards the receptionist waiting patiently to take him to the daycare. “I’ll see you in an hour or two buddy.”

“Kay! Bye dad. Bye mom!”

He nearly disappeared around the corner before Jeongguk remembered. “I love you!”

He heard a shoe squeak and Heeseung popped back around the corner. “Love you too!”

Jeongguk held onto his smile as he turned back to Terrance, who’d been joined by Leslie. They both gave him tight smiles, making Jeongguk’s dim.

“Shall we get started?” Leslie asked, holding the door open for them. Jeongguk nodded, pressing past them.

“Prepare for war,” Terrance warned him as he passed. Jeongguk took a deep breath, not hesitating as he took the seat that would put him across from Heejin.

He’d been ready for war the minute he hired Terrance.

---

Let’s talk about this one today. “I’ll always be paranoid.” This is very common when relationships experience infidelity. You’re not the only one who has felt this way, and it’s entirely valid to feel that. You had someone you thought you could trust sneaking around behind your back. Hiding messages, lying about where they were, who they were with… so how do you overcome this? Because you will overcome it. Eventually. Hey! Don’t look at me like that; healing is a process.

---

“We do not accept the proposal.” Terrance tapped the paper. Leslie raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t even read it.”

“I didn’t need to. My client has made it clear in this proceeding and others that sole custody is his final decision. This sheet of paper isn't going to convince him otherwise. Your client has continuously shown her lack of care when it comes to-”

“Cut the bullshit,” Heejin interjected, not even looking at Terrance. “You’re doing this because I told you I didn’t want to be a mom, aren’t you?”

“Heejin-”

“No, Leslie. We’re not going to get anywhere today if Jeongguk and I don’t talk about this.”

He glanced over at Terrance. His attorney shrugged his shoulders, clearly giving Jeongguk the opportunity to choose whether he wanted to defer to him or if he wanted to yell it out with his spouse as he fondly described collaborative law. So far they’d managed not to do so, but he knew he wouldn’t get an easy pass on this one.

He engaged.

“I’m not doing this because of that.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. He’d been regaining his control over his patience and emotions throughout the past couple of weeks. “I’m doing it because I believe it’s the best option for our children.”

“And you think the best option is to cut me out of their lives?”

“You won’t be cut out of their lives. If you read the proposal, you’ll have supervised rights. They will be with you every other weekend and then for alternating holidays until I move-”

“To Korea,” she spat the words. “Thousands of miles away from me. Do you hate me that much-”

“It’s not about you. Put aside the self-centeredness for a second-”

“You’re calling me self-centered? When this entire time you’ve only thought about yourself and what you want and-”

“I think it’s a welcome change when I used to only think about what you wanted.” He tilted his head at her, pity welling up again. More and more he realized how much help she needed. He found himself wondering why he hadn't seen the signs of her instability until recently. Probably because he was too close to the situation and she didn’t have too hard of a life until now. “Believe it or not, I’m not thinking about myself. I’m thinking about Heeseung and Jungwon. Right now, I’m the one who can give them the most stable and safe life-”

“You don’t have a job-”

“Actually, I do. We already went over that when we talked about finances. While I might not be able to afford the same luxuries, I can still provide for them physically and emotionally. I’ve proven that I can take care of their needs and have since we had them.”

“And I can’t?”

“Not consistently. You’ve never had them for longer than two days and by the end of those two days, you’ve always been more than willing to give them back.”

“Because it’s the law, Jeongguk. They’re supposed to spend as much time with you as with me-”

“Then why aren’t we already on one of the suggested systems?” he cut her off. He leaned forward again, bracing his arms against the table. Despite his adrenaline filled heart, the rest of him was calm. “I have the texts where I asked if you wanted to do a 3-4-4-3 or even a 2-2-5-5. When you shot those down I asked what you would prefer and you asked to have them on the weekends so they didn’t interfere with work. You could enroll them into daycare—Heeseung starts school this fall—or hire a nanny and then be with them in the evenings. But you didn’t make that effort.

“So what is the difference between what I proposed to what we’re doing now? Other than it being supervised, which I’m sure you’d appreciate.”

“The difference,” she snarled, leaning over the table. “Is that it won’t stay that way. You’re planning on taking them out of the country next year. I’m not okay with that! At all.”

Jeongguk shrugged.

“Either you’re okay with it now, treasure the time you have with them, and make time for holidays, or we take this to court.” His eyes narrowed into a glare. “I’m not budging on my decision.”

“You won’t win if we take this to court.”

Leslie, as good of an attorney as he was, didn’t manage to hide his cringe. Heejin didn’t see it, but Jeongguk and Terrance did.

“I would, actually, with evidence of unfit parenting and domestic violence.”

“Unfit- domestic violence?!”

The rise in volume could have broken glass. The twist of her face snapped Jeongguk right back to that evening. His fingers curled into fists.

He did not touch his cheek.

She had no more power over him.

“I never abused you or our children-”

Terrance dragged a file out from the bottom of his pile. He flipped it open and laid it out on the table, bare to any eyes that fell on it. He could hear Heejin’s teeth click as she shut her mouth.

“Once is enough to classify as such,” Terrance murmured, light yet impossibly dark in context. Across the table, Leslie’s eyes closed, his only outward reaction to the picture of the bruise that had been left on Jeongguk’s cheek. One was a clean, clear picture. The other had been drawn on to outline the faint shape of her hand.

Just another reason for him to hate physical violence.

“You don’t want to take this to court, Heejin,” Jeongguk said empathetically. “Because that means you actually will get cut out of their lives.”

“You’re threatening me,” she whispered, eyes glued to the table.

“I don’t believe you want to carelessly throw around an accusation like that, Ms. Kim.” Terrance closed the folder. “Leslie, I think you might need a moment with your client. Do you need us to leave the room?”

Leslie shook his head, leaning over to Heejin. He whispered words too low for Jeongguk to make out, but he watched the dim light in Heejin’s eyes shift and spark. She nodded, curt and decisive.

“My client and I would like to propose a trial period where she has the children for a week entirely unsupervised-”

“A week?” Jeongguk repeated, aghast.

“-to determine her parenting capabilities. As she has been taking the mandatory parenting classes, we believe we can put to rest Mr. Jeon’s concerns about unfit parenting. After the trial period—in which the children have minimal contact with the father-”

“Now-” Terrance laid a hand on his shoulder, signaling him to be quiet. Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek, almost gnawing with panic and frustration.

“-we can reconvene to reassess the proposals and come to an agreement on what is best for Heeseung and Jungwon. We remain firm that it is in their best interest to have both parents present and involved in their lives.”

The beginning tip of no didn’t even leave his tongue when Terrance’s fingers dug in, tugging him close so he could whisper,

“We’re going to accept.”

“No!” he whispered back, harsh and maybe a little too loud. Terrance pulled him a little closer, forcing him to switch sides so his face wasn’t open to the other two adults. “The whole reason I’m trying to get sole custody is that they aren’t going to be taken care of if left with her for extended periods of time! You’ve seen that throughout this entire month with not putting them in weather appropriate clothes, not making sure they have breakfast, not enough water, the sunburn-”

“I know, Jeongguk, but she doesn’t see that,” he hissed. “And if she doesn’t see that then she’s going to continue to fight this. Leslie is a damn good attorney too—he’ll use all the right words to make you doubt even yourself. Very useful when he’s on our side but downright terrifying if he’s not.

“We’re going to let her prove to herself that she’s incapable. Unless you have any doubt that she’ll turn out to be a decent caretaker, we don’t fight and let it happen.”

“What about my kids, Terrance?”

“You’re going to hate me for saying this, but you’re going to have to let them get hurt-”

“Terrance.”

“Either we do it this way and be finished within two weeks, or we file to go to court and drag this out for another three months. Three months in which she’ll continue to have them.” The pressure on his shoulder decreased, a warning that whatever expression he was wearing would soon be revealed. “Take your pick. You know which one I recommend.”

Terrance leaned away.

“Regarding the proposal, my client and I-”

He didn’t even give Jeongguk time to think. Stupid, oily, no good leech-

Terrance smiled as Jeongguk nodded.

“-accept. What are the dates and times this trial will take place?”

---

“I’ll never be able to move on.”  Well, I think you’ve already debunked this one for yourself within the past couple of weeks. Your rating was a three, but I think if you were to rate it now… yeah. One sounds about right. You’ve fully accepted that you’re not in love with her, and the parts of her that you did still love are overshadowed by her other actions. So, you’ve definitely moved on from her in a relationship sense. But what about the situation? The cheating, the divorce, your children… you’re already starting to look a little haunted. And not in the Casper the friendly ghost kind of way… have you never seen…? Ugh Jeongguk, what am I supposed to do with you?  Write it down, right now. C-A-S-P-E-R. You’re looking for a movie with a ghost on front that looks like the Pillsbury Dough boy—that’s your homework. Watch that movie and then we’ll talk. …okay, where were we? Oh yes, moving on from your trauma of this entire situation.

---

Jeongguk thought he’d been doing well on not spiraling into bad habits and poor choices. He’d stayed away from alcohol, never had the desire to smoke, and didn’t engage in other substances that could have numbed the pain momentarily. He continued to eat all three meals, spent appropriate time outside, and took time to call his parents every day.

It was Monday, the third day that Heejin had the kids, and he was almost at his limit of having the strength to stop himself from doing something dumb. He didn’t know what he’d do, but he’d do… something. Maybe he’d buy a carrier pigeon and send Heeseung a drawing. That sounded reasonable.

They’d agreed that anytime the kids requested to talk to him, contact between them could be established. Jeongguk was allowed to text and call Heejin in case of an emergency, but asking after the kids was considered supervision and wasn’t allowed. She was the one who had free reign to contact him at any point and time.

Jeongguk had been this close to taking a page out of Heeseung’s book and whining, “But that’s not fair!” In the meeting room a week ago. And it wasn’t! But Terrance and Leslie had been grinning like fools to each other as they set the terms. Just thinking about it made his blood pressure rise. Terrance and his stupid old man crush on his colleague that made him weak to his proposals. Jeongguk just had to hire him and Heejin just had to hire Leslie. He swore if they made another inside joke and then reminded each other about professionalism he’d shove them both in a supply closet and lock the door to see just how professional they could get-

The lead in his pencil snapped just as his phone rang. It cued him into the time, the fact that he’d ruined the commission piece he’d been working on since that morning, and that he’d been putting together a 30-step-plan to get his and his wife’s attorneys together so they’d stop pining like lovesick high schoolers and sabotaging his attempts to get divorced with sole custody of his children.

Questioning where his sanity had gone, Jeongguk answered the phone with a sigh.

“This is Jeongguk.”

There was a pause, then a muffled snort of laughter followed by giggles. Jeongguk rolled his eyes, setting down his broken pencil with a twitching smile.

“Someone was in the zone,” Jimin teased. “It’s a good thing this isn’t a video call or I’d probably be looking at the inside of your ear right now.”

“Ha ha, Jimin.” He leaned back in his chair, wincing. He hadn’t noticed how hunched over he’d been, trying to touch his nose to the paper. He didn’t need to be that close to accomplish the dark charcoaled scribbling he’d done. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to the time.”

“That’s alright. I slept through, like, three alarms. I’m surprised Heeseung didn’t call me first, though. He’s always been on top of it.”

Jeongguk’s smile faltered with his grimace. He and Jimin had mutually decided that he wouldn’t share anything about the divorce proceedings with him. They’d never actually come to that conclusion through talking about it, but Jeongguk never mentioned any details other than Heejin having the boys on the weekend when they were scheduling calls. Jimin didn’t ask questions. As a result, he’d completely forgotten to tell Jimin that Heeseung wasn’t available to talk tonight.

“Right. Uhm. About that…” He tugged at the bottom of his shirt, frowning at the graphite smudged into the pads of his fingers and slashed over one knuckle. “Heeseung isn’t here.”

“...he isn’t? I thought she had him on the weekends…? What about-”

“She’s got both of them. We uhm.” He tongued at his cheek, trying to find the best explanation. Jimin waited patiently, but even thousands of miles away, Jeongguk could see the tension in his shoulders. “We’re doing a trail run. She’s got them the entire week.”

“Oh.”

“We talked about custody,” he mumbled. “And-”

“Please don’t tell me the court is trying to give precedence to the mother.” Jeongguk hadn’t heard Jimin speak that harshly in a long time. Not since… the night of Lotte World, really. “If that’s the answer I genuinely don’t want to hear it-”

“Jimin, we’re not even going through the courts. We’re doing collaborative law,” he interrupted quietly. “I’m trying to get sole custody and she wants joint. The reason she has them for the week is because she and her attorney are trying to prove that she’s not unfit for parental responsibility. I—my attorney and I are basically riding this out and waiting for her to crack and admit she can’t do it.”

“...how long has she…?”

He let out a puff of air. “This is day three. So longer than she’s had them before.”

Both of them were quiet for a long, long time. Then, Jimin exhaled shakily.

“I don’t think it’s been a secret that we’ve both avoided talking to each other about it, but I want to know about the divorce proceedings.”

Jeongguk pressed his lips tightly together. Jimin had to have sensed his hesitance because he followed it up with, “If you can’t tell me, can I ask your parents? Or Jin-hyung? If you don’t want me to know at all, then I’ll let it go.”

“Are you sure you’ve got time for this? Don’t you have work-”

“I don’t have to go in until noon today, and even if I have to go in earlier, hearing about this—listening to you—is far more important. I’d be on the phone with you until the last possible second.”

Jimin made it so hard sometimes for Jeongguk to not melt into a puddle of mush. It always caught him off guard, how easy it was for him to grow flustered. To wish and wonder-

No, he scolded himself. It would be a mistake.

“It’s a lot, hyung.”

“I’ve got hours.”

With his encouragement, Jeongguk took a deep breath and rewound to the beginning. From him touching down in Florida, to Terrance, to their meetings, to what happened last time. He’d even told him about Kennedy, some of the things she said, funny anecdotes that stuck with him. Throughout it all, Jimin stayed quiet. He hummed and hawed. He asked for breaks to mute himself and scream into his couch or at the ceiling—or so he told Jeongguk.

He told him about Heejin hitting him. Not intentionally. He’d mentioned the pictures and grounds on which they’d win if they did go to court after all. Jimin had gone very, very quiet while Jeongguk rambled on before interrupting him with a horrified,

“She hit you?”

He needed another break. That one lasted more than thirty minutes. They were pushing eleven Jimin’s time while it was ten p.m for Jeongguk. He’d long since changed and laid in bed, waiting for Jimin to come back. When he did, it was with a wet,

“Jeongguk, why didn’t you tell me this was happening? Any of it?”

“Jimin…”

“I was here. You know I was here for you and I’m not—I get it if you didn’t want to share this with me. I didn’t ask or express any sort of interest-”

Jeongguk sat up, turned on his bedside light and let the phone slip from his ear. He switched from call to video, waiting for Jimin to answer. He did so after two dials. He’d been crying. That much was obvious by his swelling eyes and sniffles. He buried his face in his knees. In the corner of the frame, he could see Bam’s head resting on a couch cushion.

“Jimin,” he murmured. “Hey, can you look at me?”

“I’m not one of your kids, Jeongguk,” he warbled.

“Just because I use this tone with my kids doesn’t mean it’s meant solely for them. Hyung, come on. Let me see you.”

Slowly, the brown-haired man lifted his head. Jeongguk had to swallow back the lump in his throat at the pain he displayed. He knew part of it was empathy and sympathy for his situation. Another was the fear that Jeongguk didn’t trust him with this aspect of his life. He could also guess that he was beating himself up for not asking, for not expressing that he wanted to listen to him about this.

“Jimin, I chose not to tell you about this—about any of it. Not because I didn’t trust you or because I didn’t want you to know. It wasn’t even me trying not to hurt your feelings because of-”

“How I felt about you.”

Jimin was always the one brave enough to say it while Jeongguk danced around the live wire.

“Not even because of that. It wasn’t me trying to pretend that things were normal.” He took a deep breath, trying to remember how he and Kennedy had ended up phrasing it when they talked about it.

Because of course he’d talked about Jimin. He’d never gone so far as to tell Kennedy what he felt, but he knew the therapist was well aware. She was sensitive enough not to bring it up. Jeongguk wasn’t ready to unpack that yet.

But that didn’t mean they didn’t unpack things surrounding that. Parts of their friendship that had been far more prevalent.

“I didn’t want to go back to using you as my emotional support. Because what I did back in Korea? When we met? That wasn’t… it wasn’t okay, Jimin.” He forced himself to continue to look at him instead of just over the tip of the phone where it would look like he was looking at him. He needed to be completely transparent. “I relied too much on you, to the point where not having you around actually made me panic because you were my support.”

Jimin stared at him, wide eyed and gaping. He felt sick. Upset with himself for letting it happen and not apologizing for it sooner.

“I know I had other people around me that were supporting me, but I always went to you. That wasn’t healthy and it wasn’t fair. It was… I was using you. With or without your consent, I was using you as some sort of twisted self medication for my problems and that wasn’t okay. At all.”

“Jeongguk, it-”

“I just want to say I’m sorry,” he blurted, needing to get it out before he gave up on himself. “I’m really sorry for how I treated you. And—and that’s why I didn’t tell you about this. I didn’t want to go back to that. I want what we have to be healthy and genuine and equal. Where I give just as much as I take. Because you deserve that.”

His out of the gates bolstered rambles had turned into quiet mumbles by the end. He hoped Jimin heard everything because he wouldn’t be able to repeat it.

“...why did you tell me about it now, then?”

Jimin went from hiding behind his knees to resting on them, chin tucked over the top of the left. He couldn’t read his expression.

“We’ve had some distance. A… reset? Kennedy’s much better at explaining this but you’re not my emotional support person anymore? You know, like an emotional support dog-” he rubbed his hand over his mouth, groaning. This was going terrible. “I’m relying on other people than just you and myself. That’s the difference. I’ve got a therapist, my parents are involved, I talk to Hobi, Jin, and Namjoon-hyung every week. I’m—I’m dealing with everything in a healthy way now.”

He fiddled with a loose string on the sheets, watching Jimin process. He ran his free hand through his hair three times before his pretty—scratch that—mouth turned upwards in a strained smile.

“I’m sorry too.”

“W-what? Hyung, no why-?”

“I let it happen?” He shrugged. “Taehyung warned me that I was too invested and was taking too much of what you were going through upon myself but I ignored him because I wanted to help… I think we both saw the consequence of that in Jeju.”

That had been the climax of it all, even if it was intermingled with other things.

“I… distance has been good for us. But I’m also-” the strained smile grew genuine, his eyes crinkling in delight. “-I’m glad that we can continue to keep in contact under better circumstances. Truthfully, it’s a lot easier being your friend when I’m not worried about you suddenly bursting into tears.”

“I’m still prone to doing that,” he joked, and was rewarded with a full chested laugh as Jimin threw his head back into the couch.

“Yeah, maybe so, but now you have other people to cry to and not just me. Not that I couldn’t handle it or that it annoyed me-”

“I get it, Jimin, it’s okay.”

“You know, you can’t seem to decide whether to call me hyung or not. I want to make it clear that I am older than you-”

“I know, Jimin ah-”

“Hey!”

He burst into his own giggles at Jimin’s indignant face, one eyebrow raised with his threatening fist. But he could see the joy in his eyes, and the smile ghosting his lips.

He could stay here forever.

That meant it was time to let him go.

“Jimin, thank you for listening. And for being my friend.”

His entire body softened at the words, giving him a rare smile, one he saw only when Jimin was particularly happy.

“Anytime, Jeongguk-ah. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Sleep came easy, even as he realized the meaning of his I love you was changing.

---

“I wasn’t good enough.” I’ll tell you now, we aren’t going to get through the entirety of this today. You rated this one a five. Through our conversations this has repeatedly come up. I don’t think this truth was created by your past relationship. I think this grew a long time ago. Your environment, the people in it, and the way that your brain processed those people and situations impacted how you feel and think about yourself today. This is something that is big, heavy, and scary so you’re afraid to take it out of the box. You grew up with a really good family. One that loves you, supports you, protects you, and encourages you. So where did this come from? From your wife cheating? From the mistakes you make as a dad? From being degreeless, jobless, and well, basically homeless? From going to school in a different country and language than one you were familiar with? From exams, tests, and quizzes you didn’t do as good as you thought you would? From your present and past relationships? I think the main branch that creates this truth is your need to be perfect. Guess what? You’re not.

---

Heejin never threw in the towel. The entire week passed without her calling him in tears, frustration, or panic begging him to come over and take the kids. He tried to read her whenever he had video calls with the kids, but she wasn’t in the frame or she was completely stone faced. His stomach sank lower and lower with each day that passed. He never thought giving up was a good thing, but in his case, success wasn’t an option. He needed her to fail.

He’d lashed out at Terrance when they’d met on Thursday, the day before meeting together. The older man let him yell, scream, and shift all the blame to him. When Jeongguk finally collapsed into a chair, out of breath, crying, and choking out apologies, Terrance handed him a handkerchief and gave him permission to dock his pay if it didn’t turn out in their favor. Jeongguk couldn’t legally do that, but the sentiment was appreciated.

Stepping into the law firm, Jeongguk had to ask the receptionist for a trash can—he legitimately thought he’d throw up out of nerves. He did not, but he remained pale and clammy all the way down the hall.

The chairs were empty. The meeting door was open. Terrance and Leslie were inside, doing their weird flirting. Peeking inside, Jeongguk concluded there was progress when Terrance let his fingers linger on the other man's as he passed him a pen. Good for him. That didn’t tell him where Heejin and his children were.

He chose to sit in the chairs, an uncommon occurrence as he always arrived after Heejin if not at the same time. As the minutes passed, he grew more and more anxious. She could be having trouble getting them in the car. Jungwon could be throwing a fit and Heeseung had a habit of being particularly difficult. Or maybe there was a high amount of traffic? An accident, possibly. Hopefully they weren’t in the accident- Oh no. What if they’d been in an accident-!

“Your client is rather late.”

“She had some issues with the children. She should be here soon.”

“It’s been almost twenty minutes… I think you should give her a-”

Jeongguk could have been a rabbit with how fast his ears perked up at the sound of Heeseung’s voice.

“...chair! Can you say it Jungie? Ch-a-ir.”

He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, listening to Heeseung trying to break down chair into syllables when it only had one. Even more endearing was the repeated gurgle from Jungwon. “C-ar.”

“Not car Jungie. Chair. Right mom?”

“Yes, baby.”

She hadn’t used that term for him in a while. The sound of it had memories flooding forward, cramming into a jumble at the forefront of his brain before he pulled the string that would unravel them all again. A smile he reserved for his family came into full bloom when his children appeared around the corner. He could only watch, stunned, as Heeseung bounced down the hall, Jungwon on his back and giggling with each little hop.

“Careful not to drop him, okay?” Heejin counseled, softer than she’d been recently.

 Jeongguk blinked at the sight of her. Throughout the months she’d been unkempt. Hair uncombed, socks mismatching, and only concealer trying to hide the shadows under her eyes. Today, she was dressed simply but beautifully, with a white summer dress skimming her knees and sandals lacing up her calves. There was that lipgloss again—the one that used to drive him crazy.

But the most shocking thing was her hair.

She’d cut it to the chin. The same bob she sported when Jeongguk met her. When they were dating. It hadn’t been much longer than that when he proposed.

He was dumbfounded, left with questions upon questions.

Why did she cut her hair? What made her choose to dress up? Was this an attempt to make him remember how they once were? What happened this week to have her change her attitude?

“Heejin?”

He hated how his voice sounded. As if he was in awe of her when in reality he was only confused. She looked up at him, flashing him a small, tired smile. That was familiar, at least.

“Daddy!” Heeseung exclaimed, echoed by Jungwon with a small, “Dadada!”

His five-year-old waddled up, Jungwon bouncing on his back. “Guess what! Mom said that after today, we’re going to-”

“Heeseung, what did mom say?!” she questioned with a laugh. Jeongguk swore he was in the twilight zone. “Don’t-”

“Spoil the sup-rice.”

“Suprise,” Jeongguk and Heejin corrected together. His mouth clicked shut while she gave him another smile. Heeseung rolled his eyes.

“Baby, why don’t you go with Jungwon to Mikka, okay? Do you remember how to get there?” Heejin gave him a gentle push with her fingers, just lightly brushing his shoulder. Her curled hair tipped over her cheek and Jeongguk was hit with a habitual need to brush it behind her ear.

Holy this was messing with his head. Was that her intention? Was it working? Was this seriously bringing back-?

No. Jeongguk could remember how this was, could remember the memories attached to it, but he didn’t feel that way anymore.

It brought him relief, calming the panic that had been building.

He didn’t want to be in love with her anymore.

This didn’t change that.

“Uhhuh! I remember!” he spun back to Jeongguk. “Dad give me and Jungie and hug and a kiss so we can go play with the blocks with Mikka!”

“O-okay.” Jeongguk complied, still trying to come to terms with whatever the flip was happening right now. He got a slobbery kiss from Jungwon in return until both of his children—or one of them—ran off to the daycare worker patiently waiting for them. As soon as they were gone, he whirled on Heejin.

“You cut your hair.”

Her lips spread in a smile, lipgloss catching in the light. “I did.”

“Why?”

She shrugged, one of the straps from diaper bag slipping down her bare shoulder. She adjusted it as she turned to the conference room. “Let’s get this started, shall we?”

What is your plan?! His brain screamed, even as he remained silent, following her into the room. He watched both attorney’s eyes widen at the sight of her, Terrance’s easy smile slipping. He caught Jeongguk’s gaze, narrowed and searching. He was almost offended. He wasn’t easy. Yes, he could admit that Heejin was insanely beautiful right now—she always had been; dressing like this made it known with dazzling show lights—but that didn’t mean he’d be begging to be her husband again. Too much crap happened for him to consider that.

No. She had something up her sleeve.

“Heejin, you look lovely,” Lelsie complimented. Terrance frowned.

“Thank you, Leslie. I’m sorry that I was late.”

“What is going on?” Terrance hissed as they took their seats.

“I don’t know,” Jeongguk whispered back. “I can’t tell if she’s trying to manipulate me or not.”

“Is it working? As your attorney that’s very vital for me to know.”

“I’m confused and I think I’m in the twilight zone but no.”

She could be wearing nothing and I’d still not feel anything, he thought about saying, but ultimately decided not to.

“Well,” Leslie began after clearing his throat. Heejin rustled in one of the bags. “Today marks the end of the trial run, which in the duration my client proved that she is fit for parental responsibility. As such, we once again request to look at joint-”

A white envelope hit the table with enough force to rattle Leslie’s half empty plastic water bottle. It made all three men jump.

Heejin leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. She smiled, wide and bright, but it didn’t meet her eyes.

“You’re taking the boys to Disney World tomorrow,” she announced, nodding at the envelope. “That should be enough to cover the cost of tickets and the food. There might even be enough for a souvenir or two.”

“What?” all three of them spoke at the same time, blinking at each other. Heejin rolled her eyes and leaned forward to nudge the envelope closer. Jeongguk picked it up with shaking hands, shocked at the weight of it. It was full of cash.

“Why are you giving this to me?” he questioned, meeting her eyes. He saw a flash of pain before it was shoved behind walls.

“I told you. You’re taking the children to Disney World.”

“That’s not—Heejin, did you take money out just so I could take them on a vacation? Is that some kind of reminder that your financial situation is better than mine or-”

“That’s the money I got from selling my wedding and engagement ring on Ebay.”

Jeongguk dropped the envelope back onto the table at the same time Heejin leaned forward again, placing something in front of him. His ring cast a reflection across the smooth table.

He hadn’t seen it since she took it off his finger a month and a half ago.

“Whatever money you get from that.” She nodded at the ring, voice strained. “I want it to go into a savings fund for the boys. It’ll be the only account we still share.”

“Heejin-” Leslie began but she cut him off.

“I’m not cut out to be a mom.” She huffed a pitiful laugh. “That much was made clear to me this past week. I’m not unfit. I could do it but I don’t want to.” Her voice lowered along with her eyes as she stared at her hands in her lap. “I choose not to be a mom.”

Jeongguk couldn’t breathe, gasping when her chin jerked back up to look him in the eye.

“I agree to the terms you set for sole physical custody. Alternating holidays and weekends from Friday evening to Sunday evening. I would hope that when you move to Korea that we can come to our own arrangement of how custody will work out then.”

“And for legal?” Terrance recovered faster than all of them, jumping into the fray. Heejin’s jaw set.

“I still want joint for legal. I want a say in those parts of their lives-”

“Okay,” Jeongguk rasped. He ignored Terrance’s alarmed look. All he could think was, I get to keep them. I get to stay with my sons. “I’m okay with joint legal custody.”

Heejin smiled. The first real smile he’d seen in weeks.

“Thank you.”

Leslie, who obviously had been as blindsided as the rest of them sat back in his chair.

“Well,” he drawled. “With that being put out of the way, should we talk about child support?”

Jeongguk had walked into that meeting room terrified out of his mind that he was going to lose his family. When he walked out, it wasn't a walk but a run as we swept into the daycare and tackled both children into his arms. That wasn't the end of it all, he knew, but he got what he wanted more than anything else.

His children. His boys. The entirety of his universe. No, not the entirety.

But it felt pretty close when Jimin screamed, "Yes!" in his ear when he shared the news.

---

“My future relationships are doomed.” This is certainly a concept. I’ve explained ‘the one’ theory to you, and I think this can stem from that. You also have a unique outlook—kind of old school—that marriage is something meant to happen once, and once it happens a new relationship outside of that is Satan’s spawn and you may as well get the first train ticket to Hell. I think I’m going to tie this in with “I’ll never be able to move on” because this is a truth in direct correlation with dealing with the betrayal of your spouse. In fact, let's toss them all in there, because these truths are the pillars that make up the foundation of this one. Do you see why I left this one for last? We’ve already started to dismantle those pillars. Now… the most curious thing for me is that you rated this as a one. Sooo…

“Tell me about that.” Kennedy lowered the paper she’d been covering her face with. “Why do you not relate to this?”

Jeongguk twisted the chain, looping it over his pointer finger, wrapping it around the thumb, and doubling back to his pinky. Once all of them were encased in gold, he unraveled it.

“To be honest…”

“Oh honesty. Great.”

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Kennedy.” She snorted. “I don’t resonate with it because I don’t see myself having a future relationship. Not that Heejin ruined romance or love for me, but… it’s kind of hard thinking about finding someone when I have two kids that are my main priority. Plus, I got officially divorced not even a month ago. Dating isn’t exactly at the forefront of my mind.”

“That’s fair,” Kennedy amended. “Are you planning on staying a bachelor for the rest of your life then?”

“No.” He shifted on the floor. He found his preferred seat to be with his back against the couch. “At least, I don’t think so? Right now I think my biggest fear about it would be that no one wants to date someone with kids. Which I know isn’t true! It’s just a lot. And I… I don’t know. Thinking about it now—whoever I dated would have to be in it for the long run. I’m not looking for another spouse or someone to parent my kids with me, but I am looking for someone that’s going to stick around. Be a part of our lives.”

Kennedy tilted her head, a sly grin fixing in place. “For someone who hasn’t thought about it you certainly have a list of ideals.”

“It’s easy to build that list. I take all the positives from my marriage and pair it with the things I realized were lacking.” He shook his head, exasperated. “What’s the bad thing about being a single parent? I’m not lonely. I’m not sad. I’m finally getting the chance to figure myself out. I don’t need another person to fix me or complete me.”

“You don’t,” she agreed softly. “And that’s not the point of this. It’s not my intention to shine you off and toss you into the sea of dating. My intention here is to figure out why you’re jailing yourself away from a chance at another relationship.”

The chain slipped. “I-I’m not- Kennedy.”

“Jeongguk,” she parried with a raised eyebrow. It softened. “You’ve got a lot of blocks in place—blocks that used to be iron clad but were shook loose in the light of your divorce. Instead of trying to fix that wall, let’s finally break it down and learn some things about yourself. To do that, I think we need to talk about what we’ve been avoiding for far too long.”

His grip on the chain tightened, squeezing the life out of his fingers. “And what would that be?”

Kennedy put her chin in her hands, grinning.

“Let’s talk about Park Jimin.”

Notes:

1) Terrance + Leslie is my new OTP

2) Kennedy is my favorite, favorite, FAVORITE. I read some of her lines to my sister and she laughed so I'm proud.

3) No joke, while I was writing the part where Heejin comes in with her new haircut I could SEE your eyes narrow in suspicion. I hope the twist was fun :D

4) I am once again, so sorry that Jimin has been in the background for so long. Just with the way things went, he wasn't able to have a major part these last couple of chapters. I think next chapter it might be much of the same, but AFTER THAT HE'LL BE THERE I PROMISE.

5) The conversation that Jimin and Jeongguk had is one I didn't know how to put into words, so I hope that what I wrote did it justice. A hat tip to videostore. Your comments helped me move in this direction and I'm grateful for it.

Chapter 30

Notes:

Struggle to write this chapter was real, but we made it ladies and gentleman and now we're onto the GOOD STUFF.

But first, please enjoy this chapter.

“What is this?” Jeongguk asked around his laughter. On the screen on his laptop, Seokjin held up a banner. Namjoon sat below it with a cake and candles. Hoseok was the other person on the Skype call—on mute—because he was clearly laughing too much for Jeongguk to possibly hear the other two.

“It’s your divorce celebration!” Seokjin announced, flapping the banner. He hadn’t accounted for the flipped camera because instead of reading: Congratulations on your marriage divorce! It read more like: !ecrovid egairram ruoy no snoitalutargnoC.

Jeongguk covered one blush burning cheek with his hand, attempting to hide his grin. He hadn’t been able to talk with the three of them since he announced the official end of his marriage. Finalizing all of the legal elements, like signing the papers and finances, had taken up the better part of the first week. The second his friends had insanely busy schedules and barely had time to eat and sleep. The third… Jeongguk had sent each of them private texts letting them know that he wasn’t up for company. He needed the week to himself and his kids.

He thought he’d been handling the adjustment from married life to single life well. He’d basically been living with just him and the boys for over two months. Heejin had only been in the picture for two and a half weeks within that timeframe. Yet that weekend when Heejin took the boys, Jeongguk found himself unexpectedly slipping into a depressive state.

He didn’t regret getting divorced. He didn’t miss her or their marriage. Still, he couldn’t shake the unexplainable feeling of loss. Kennedy told him to ride it out. Let himself mourn the loss of a connection he once loved. He was tired of crying over her, but even after all this time his brain still needed to make the switch. To stop searching for the person missing from his side.

As for his boys, Heeseung needed a lot of attention. He wasn’t handling the divorce well. It showed with his random bursts of anger, uncontrollable sobbing, and obsessive clingyness to Jeongguk. His heartbreaking questions didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. Jeongguk told his son that he loved him more in one day than he ever managed to do in all five-years of his existence. And he’d always said he loved him.

Jungwon’s pain was quieter, but he’d gone back to being silent. He was more wary around strangers. He almost didn’t let Heejin take him last week—it had been a harrowing experience for both of them.

Although still exhausted and adjusting, Jeongguk knew he couldn’t wallow forever. He’d been tired before and he’d continue to be tired. All he could do was move forward and try his best. One day at a time.

“Thank you,” he said shyly. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“We definitely did.” Namjoon reassured. Seokjin let the banner drop, leaning over his shoulders to blow out the candles. He smacked a kiss against his cheek afterwards. “We tried ordering you a cake but no one did delivery this early in the morning.”

“Which is ridiculous!” Hoseok unmuted. “Anyone should be able to have cake at six in the morning if they want to.”

“Don’t let Heeseung or Jungwon hear that.” He chuckled, risking a glance at the closed bedroom door. His sons were still asleep. The only reason Jeongguk wasn’t dreaming beside them was because of his attempts to fix his sleep schedule early instead of later when Heeseung needed to get up for school. August snuck up on him.

Speaking of August…. “Hobi-hyung, don’t you and Jimin have the dance camp-”

He got cut off by another person joining the Skype call. It took him two seconds to register the squished together faces of Jimin and Taehyung.

All of them started doing these calls together.

Well, all of them except Yoongi.

Jeongguk hadn’t talked to him since the rapper texted him that simple sorry when Heeseung was in the hospital. He’d still priced Jeongguk’s art. He talked in the group chat with all seven of them, but they never interacted with each other. The others didn’t mention it. Not even in passing. Somehow, it made him nervous.

“No way! You started without us?!” Taehyung screeched, pulling away from Jimin and subsequently stealing the camera. “The candles are blown out and everything!”

“You two weren’t answering your phones! We needed to start sooner rather than later—what held you up anyway?!”

“Jimin found a place that-”

A sharp knock on Jeongguk’s door startled him. He glanced at the screen and held up a hand, signaling that he would be back. They barely noticed, too busy arguing over whatever it was.

Still tugging on a jacket, Jeongguk undid the lock and peeked outside. A delivery man stared back at him, cap pulled low over his eyes.

“John Cook?”

Jeongguk didn’t bother to correct him, choosing to nod instead.

“Cool. Here’s your cake. No need to sign for it.”

“Oh, uh, thank you?” He took the box, blinking in confusion. He didn’t order cake- oh wait. The delivery man waved and headed back down the ramp to a vehicle that looked like a revamped mail truck.

Returning to the laptop, he lifted the box with a raised eyebrow.

“You found a place that delivers cake in the morning?” he pointed the question at Jimin, as the camera between the two friends had resettled.

“I did!” He beamed. “It’s a really cute hole in the wall place—I’ll send you the address to it. You might like doing some work in there.”

“Thank you, hyung.”

“Lemme see the cake!” Taehyung demanded, accompanied by Seokjin and Hoseok. Namjoon shook his head fondly, taking out the candles of his own cake. Jimin, interestingly enough, sank against his couch, putting a hand to his face out of embarrassment. That made Jeongguk lift the lid of the cakebox faster.

He couldn’t help but coo and grin like a fool. His reaction made the clamor of the others more pronounced as they demanded to see it. Carefully he lifted and tilted the box, letting the camera focus on the surface of it.

Against white frosting was a step up from stick figures drawing of five figures tackling one in a hug. Despite the lack of artistic ability, it wasn’t hard for Jeongguk to know that it represented his five friends and him. Along the bottom it said you nice, keep going in loopy letters.

“Take a picture of that and send it to me please. That's adorable,” Namjoon crooned. Jeongguk did as asked while the others teased Jimin about the design.

“You're such a sap, Jiminie~”

“Shove off Hobi-hyung. I'm already going to have to deal with you for two weeks.”

“You dare speak to hyung that way? I'll show you-”

“Hyungs, please.” Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “Hoseok-hyung stop teasing Jimin—I think the design is cute. Jimin, try not to strangle Hoseok-hyung because you'll need him.”

“Get parented,” Taehyung declared with a nod and a smug swagger grin.

“This is so not fair. Jimin barely got scolded! I call foul. He always gets preferential treatment!”

“What? No he doesn't-”

“Now now, Hobah, just because Jeongguk likes Jimin more than you-”

Jimin snorted while Jeongguk spluttered. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck, no doubt turning his face red. They were teasing, he knew. But what if one of them actually thought that? What if they knew-

Familiar gut wrenching guilt and shame licked at his insides. He sank into it like reconnecting with a problematic friend. He breathed in denial and exhaled self-disgust. How could he think this? Why did his heart start racing at the thought of someone thinking he had that kind of inclination towards Jimin? He fought against it; he couldn’t desire it. Not when he was marri-

Oh.

Jeongguk rolled his thoughts together, completely tuning out his friends still playfully bickering with each other. He… he didn’t have to push those thoughts away now, did he? Before, yes, but now he was completely separated from Heejin. There wasn’t anything wrong with thinking about it. There wasn’t anything wrong with feeling this way. He could even act on those thoughts if he wanted-

His stomach twisted unpleasantly at the thought, causing his heart to drop out of his chest.

Why did he keep feeling this way? It. Wasn’t. Wrong. He’d come to terms with the fact that he liked Jimin. He liked him more than he probably should—there it was again. A pushback to what he felt. Jeongguk didn’t understand it. He wasn’t homophobic. He loved Seokjin and Namjoon. He loved Jimin in the same sense.

Could it be because he caught feelings when he wasn’t available? When those thoughts had to be pushed away in a desperate attempt to keep fidelity?

None of it mattered. He didn’t want to walk into another relationship. He was content feeling and not acting. Honestly, he’d be happy if his feelings went away. With that in mind, it shouldn’t affect him this much.

But if it didn’t matter, why did it bother him so much? Why did it feel like he was… suppressing himself?

Surely he was alright with himself being attracted to a guy. Wasn’t he? Sure he’d never been attracted to another man aside from Jimin. So maybe it was just him? Or-

“-ggukie! HEY. JE-ON JE-ONG-GUK!”

He startled violently, blinking owlishly. Seokjin’s face was squished to the camera, his eyes narrowed and mouth set in a line.

“Yah. You weren't listening were you? You were off in Jeonland.”

“I’m sorry, hyung. I was just thinking about someo-thing.”

His squint got squintier as he slowly dragged the camera away from himself. It made the others giggle and pull a smile to Jeongguk’s lips. He sank back into the conversation, listening intently as Taehyung described a movie about to hit the theaters where he’d taken on a controversial role. His attention got snagged away by his phone vibrating and lighting up on the table.

Jimin:
Everything ok?

He peeked up at the screen. Jimin appeared to be drawn in by the story, but his eyes flickered down. No doubt finding his message read. Jeongguk dragged his own into his lap, thumbs tapping the sides as he thought.

Jeongguk:
yeah
and not in the “I’m actually dying inside” way but more like the “things are chill” way.

He looked up just in time to see Jimin smile. He covered it with his hand. By the time he moved to ruffle his hair, the smile was gone. Jeongguk bit back his own.

Jimin:
chill

Jeongguk bit back a snort. He focused back on the conversation; Hoseok was now talking about something but Jeongguk couldn’t figure out what he was referring to. It didn’t take long for his eyes to drop back to his phone as he typed another message.

Jeongguk:
Areyou excited for the dance camp? That strs soon right?

Jimin:
yeah

He waited, but when bubbles didn’t pop up, he continued.

Jeongguk:
yeah as in “I’m SOOOOO ready” or yeah as in “I’m having doubts again even though I’m a beautiful, amazing dancer and deserve a thousand times over to be one of the instructors”?
Do u need another peptalk? Because I always have one for you

He watched Jimin as his text came in. He immediately looked down, eyes flickering across his screen. At the end he bit his lip. Jeongguk observed his shoulders tensing. Glancing down at his own screen, the typing bubbles appeared and disappeared in rapid succession. Jimin ran a hand through his hair. Licked his lips. Frowned. He tilted forward, dipping out from the screen. Jeongguk had a feeling he was resting his elbows on his thighs as he typed out a response.

Jimin:
is it dumb that I don’t feel any of that?
I have years and years of dance under my belt but everytime im recognized for it and put on the same list as other dancers I get hit with imposter syndrome.

Jeongguk:
I don’t think that’s dumb at all.
When i share my art with someone, i’m always downplaying it. I genuinely don’t see it in the same way as other people do. I have too much of a critical eye on it. The things that aren’t perfect. A line here or there that came out wonky but I wasn’t able to fix it without redoing the whole thing
Dance is obvs going to be different, but i think any artist suffers from the fate of not seeing the worth of their work.
you might feel like an imposter, but all the others probably do too. it takes asking people you trust to give you genuine feedback on how youre doing
Do you trust Hoesok-hyung to give it to you straight?

Jimin:
nothing about me is straight

This time, Jeongguk couldn’t choke back his laugh. Namjoon paused in what had been a long winded response to whatever Hoseok had been on about. He got several raised eyebrows, causing him to flush and duck his head.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “My mom sent me something funny.”

“Your mom, huh?”

Jeongguk didn’t know how the mic picked up Taehyung’s mutter—it was barely audible to him—but it made him hot all the same. Still slightly out of sight, Jimin shoved at his shoulder, a non-verbal scold. Taehyung grinned lopsidedly, winking at Jeongguk through the screen. No doubt he knew he and Jimin were texting instead of listening. Jeongguk pouted at him and intentionally muted himself.

He finally figured out what they were talking about when his phone vibrated again.

Jimin:
I do, actually. Hyung has never cut corners with me.

Jeongguk:
good news for you, then. Hosekie-hyung has been talking non-stop about how excited he is to do this with you
I don’t think he’d give thaat reaction if you weren’t as good as you are

He began to type something else, re-read it, and hesitated.

I know you’re good because I can’t look away from you when you dance.

That’s what he wanted to type.

But that held too much truth.

Jeongguk:
You got this! ^.^

He put his phone away.

---

You’ve told me about him, I know. But in that version of the story he was a supporting character. The Little John to Robin Hood, or the John Watson to Sherlock-

…but John Watson is the main character-

Shush. I’ve only watched the BBC show. The point is, Jeongguk, that I want you to tell me another story. Not the version about you and Heejin. I want the one of you and Jimin. Where he’s the main character. Because that’s who he really is, isn’t he?

---

Jeongguk’s shoulder got caught on the threshold as he stepped into the office, causing him to nearly trip on the chair pulled slightly out of the line from the rest. He caught himself at the edge of the front desk, the resulting slap catching every eye in the office. The office employee stared wide eyed at him from her chair.

“Sorry,” Jeongguk gasped. Jungwon reached for the pen on the desk and Jeongguk swiped it from him, making him whine. “I- I got a call? My son—he’s in the principal's office?”

He wasn’t aware first-graders could get sent to the office. But there wasn’t mistaking the phone call he’d gotten twenty minutes ago. He’d had her repeat herself three times before his feet unstuck from the floor and he rushed to grab Jungwon and get in the car.

He might have left the stove on.

“Ahh. Are you here for Wilson or He… Heez-ung?”

“Heeseung.” He put the pen further out of reach when Jungwon grabbed for it again.

She nodded like that was what she said. Jeongguk tried to keep a hold of his patience, which was easily slipping with his panic.

“Is—is he okay? What happened-?”

“Da,” Jungwon whined, squirming for the pen. He crumbled the huge calendar sheet, making Jeongguk hiss and pry his hand away.

“I can show you to the principal's office right now. I believe your wife has already arrived-”

“Ex-wife,” he corrected. It was nearly lost in the stumble of his words as he continued. “I was told he—he punched another kid? I don’t- he’s never-”

“Mr. John-”

“Jeon. It’s—it’s Jeon.”

“Principal Tarynn will explain everything. Just right through this door.”

He hurried after her, heart in his throat. They passed the nurses office and Jeongguk’s eyes caught on a small boy, barely bigger than Heeseung, pressing ice to his cheek. His stomach flipped, twisted, and churned.

He wanted to scream that his son would never hit someone. Everyone had seen videos of Karen parents swearing up and down that their children—good little Michael, Sarah, or John—would never be that cruel. Jeongguk was this close to repeating it. He genuinely couldn’t imagine Heeseung hitting someone. Ever since he understood that his limbs could cause pain, Jeongguk doctrinated it into him that words were more important. He’d always been gentle, even when Jungwon was driving him up the wall or Jeongguk wasn’t letting him get his way.

The woman knocked on the door before peeking her head in.

“Mr. Jehon is here.”

“Oh, perfect.”

The door opened wider as the woman ushered him in. He nearly tripped over himself in his haste. His eyes swung from the suited woman beginning to stand from the desk to Heejin, who sat closest to the door. Her face was pinched with displeasure. When he caught sight of Heeseung, all thoughts disappeared.

He sat stiff and still, hands curled tight at the edge of his shorts. The knuckles of his right hand were scratched red. He glared at the floor, mouth pouting with anger, but wobbling with fear.

“Heeseung,” he croaked. 

His small head jerked up, hair flopping in his eyes. Jeongguk hadn’t noticed that he needed a haircut. But that’s not what caused tears to flood his eyes.

As soon as he saw Jeongguk, his eyes grew glassy and he looked away.

Ashamed.

The Karen side of Jeongguk fled. 

“Mr. Jeon,” the principal said kindly. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

---

He isn’t.

…what do you mean by that?

Kennedy, we’re just—we’re just friends. I’m not—we’re not anything more than that. Don’t. Look at me like that. You told me you weren’t tossing me back into the dating pool. Isn’t this the same thing-?

It’s not. Because I’m not telling you to ask him out on a date. I actually think that would be a terrible idea right now. It’s not about your feelings for him and his feelings for you. It’s about the behaviors and thoughts you’re having because of those feelings. Have you noticed that every time you get all ‘sappy voiced’ about him you ‘catch’ yourself and make excuses or straight up deny that it was anything more than platonic?

I—I don’t-

You’re ignoring yourself. Remember, part of moving on is accepting the parts of yourself that you’ve forgotten, hidden, or ignored. Interacting and meeting Jimin obviously brought forward a part of yourself that-

Stop.
Just. Stop.
Please.

…okay. I’m sorry for pushing.

---

His hands were wrist deep in hot soapy water when the music blasting in his ears cut out to a ringtone. Cursing under his breath, Jeongguk twisted his ear to his shoulder. It took a few times to hit the button on his bluetooth headphones to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“You keep doing this. I’m starting to think you never remember that we talk on Mondays.”

Jeongguk stopped vigorously scrubbing the pan he’d ruined when making dinner. The blackened grit stuck to his fingers and the scour pad. He felt it in his soul as he cursed under his breath, resisting the urge to rub at his eyes. Soap and food waste wasn’t a good combination.

“I’m sorry, hyung. I completely spaced it.” His hands went limp in the water as he repeated tiredly, “I’m sorry.”

There was muffled shuffling on the other side as Jimin made a small confused noise. “It’s alright. I was more teasing than anything… are you… is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He resumed scrubbing, shoulders and arms tensing more than they needed to. He couldn’t believe he burned dinner that badly. Cooking had never been an issue before. “Just a long day. Heeseung and Jungwon are already in bed-”

“I would hope so, since it’s nearly midnight.”

Jeongguk hadn’t been aware. He’d been in a haze all weekend long. It had been made worse when Heeseung fought him on going to school today. Weak, tired, and still shellshocked from the events on Friday, Jeongguk had given in. He needed to call the school tomorrow to excuse the absence and maybe talk about getting him switched to a different class and-

“Jeongguk, what’s wrong?”

Jimin’s voice was far too knowing, soft, and sweet in his ear. It sounded different with earbuds in. Almost like Jimin was standing behind him, leaning over his shoulder to whisper the words. He wished he was. He wished Jimin stood with him in the small cramped kitchen. Jeongguk could turn and sink into his arms. Ground himself, for just a moment while he tried to reorient his life. In his weakness, he didn’t push away the desire. He didn’t shove it down like he did with every other impulsive Jimin-centered thought he had.

He didn’t know why it was acceptable for him to admit he was attracted to the man—that he liked him—but it wasn’t acceptable for him to keep those feelings. Every time he was reminded of them, he felt like he had to throw them away. Get rid of them like they never existed in the first place.

Jeongguk was tired of the mental battle with himself.

“You know you can talk to me,” he whispered, gentle and coaxing. Like one would to a distrustful animal. Jimin, being Jimin, it wasn’t hard for Jeongguk to give in.

“I wish you were here.” His tongue let the words slip. He bit the edge of it in reprimand, but it didn’t have any effect. “I—I really miss you.”

Too close to the knot in his chest. It ached with longing and need.

“...I miss you too,” Jimin murmured. Past experiences told Jeongguk it was likely the other man was flustered, hiding behind his hand or turning deeper into his pillow. Sights Jeongguk had seen over the weeks of them video chatting. Nights when Jeongguk had slipped up and said something he shouldn’t. Something that could have been platonic but bordered on the edge of flirtation. Usually when they’d been talking for a while and they’d let themselves go.

He always blamed it on being tired, since his day was ending when Jimin’s was just beginning. He could use the same excuse now.

He didn’t think it was fair to use it right now. He didn’t want to pretend he wasn’t being anything but genuine.

“It’s not just on the bad days,” he added, keeping his voice low and quiet. Not because his children were sleeping behind a closed door a couple of feet away, but rather he wanted to keep it between them. Just for them. “I miss you on the good days too. I—I just want you to know that so you don’t think that-”

“Guk-ah, I understand. Don’t worry.”

His feet hurt from how long he’d been standing still, locked in position against the countertop. His hands were soggy from the water. Charred grit stuck under his nails. The back of his eyes burned with heat, tears desperate to break through.

“Aren’t you supposed to be instructing a group of dancers right now?” he questioned, almost holding his breath. It was nearly two in the afternoon for Jimin.

“They’re learning a dance with Hoseok-hyung all day today. I’m going to watch it tomorrow and critique it. So, I technically have the day off.” His voice lowered. “I actually just woke up. I thought I would have to apologize for disappointing Heeseung that I didn’t call earlier.”

Jeongguk heard what he didn’t say.

“Jimin,” he whispered, almost a warning. “It’s been a really, really long weekend.”

More rustling. He was probably still in bed, if he just woke up. Imagination provided him with an image of Jimin sitting up against a non-descript headboard of a random hotel, covers tucked around his waist with white pillows at his back. Settling in for the story.

“Tell me about it.”

Jeongguk twisted the scour pad in hands, words caught in his throat. He didn’t know where to start. Jimin was patient with him, far too used to their long stretches of silence when he was thinking.

“Heeseung punched a boy in his class on Friday,” he finally murmured. There wasn’t any way to cushion it, and the punch landed with a gasp.

“Heeseung?” Jimin questioned, aghast. “Heeseung as in your son? The same one?”

Jeongguk nodded, remembering too late that they weren’t on a video call right now. Jimin didn’t need it though.

“Is he okay?”

“His knuckles were a little bruised, but other than that…” Jeongguk sighed, heavy and long. “I couldn’t believe it when they called me.”

“How did he- was he provoked in any way?”

“Does it matter?” he let the scour pad drop into the water, pulling his hands free. He wiped them on a hand  towel, hair falling into his eyes. Heeseung wasn’t the only one who needed a haircut. “Violence isn’t okay either way.”

“It isn’t, but it makes a pretty big difference to a child who is still figuring out how to handle their emotions and the proper reactions to them.”

“Still-”

“And it matters because if the kid said something that hurt him enough to cause him to react in that way… that’s something we need to talk about with him.”

 He laid the towel back over the handle of the oven and swiped a hand through his humidity waved hair. On one hand he wanted to cry. On the other, he wanted to take the next flight back to Korea just so he could give Jimin a hug. Both feelings born out of gratitude.

He cared enough to ask why it happened instead of jumping straight to punishment and condemnation. Jeongguk wished he would have had the same foresight. Instead he let Heejin’s solemn, it’s because of the divorce fill any gaps and drag him down into a sticky mess of misery. Talking to Jimin reminded him that the other man helped him think straight.

“He was provoked,” he admitted morosely. “Something happened, he got upset, and the other boy told him that boys don’t cry unless they’re sissies. So he hit him.”

He pulled his phone from his back pocket before, collapsing onto the couch, groaning. “He was defending himself, in a sense, but… I don’t know.”

“He was defending you too.”

“What? How?”

Jimin chuckled. “You cry a lot, Jeongguk-ah.”

“Heyyy,” he whined, pouting. “This isn’t about me. It’s about Heeseung.”

“I don’t know. If I was a kid and someone was talking crap about my dad—whether they knew it or not—I’d be pretty upset too.”

Jeongguk opened his mouth to argue, but he didn’t have one. It made sense. He groaned again, covering his eyes with hands.

“Why didn’t I see that?”

“I’m guessing you were a little busy comforting your son while trying to figure out what happened.”

He grumbled unintelligibly in response, sighing heavily. With his eyes closed, it would be far too easy for him to fall asleep right now. He’d been on his feet all day, trying to keep his mind occupied.

“...Jeongguk?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

He lifted a hand to readjust his earbuds, brushing his hair out of his eyes afterwards.

“I’m okay. Honestly a little shaken, but more worried than anything else.” He lowered his voice. “I decided to take him in to see Kennedy. She sees kids too, so I thought it would be good for him.”

It had been nerve-wracking, scheduling the appointment. Especially since he’d canceled his last two appointments for himself with flimsy excuses. Kennedy knew he was avoiding her, if the message she passed on through Zachary said anything. She reminded him a bit of someone, actually. Another person he was avoiding.

For the same reasons, funnily enough.

“I think so too.”

Silence lulled comfortably between them for a moment. Jeongguk listened to Jimin’s quiet, even breathing, his own slowing to match unconsciously.

“Being a dad is hard, isn’t it.”

“A bit. I get overwhelmed a lot, but then…” he smiled to himself. “You get those moments. When you just look at them or they say something and… it all becomes worth it. The never-ending exhaustion, the constant worry, the inferiority—it gets replaced with pure unadulterated love and satisfaction. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” He paused. “Why do you ask?”

“...I’ve just been thinking about it a lot,” he confided. Almost whispering. “You know that I love kids and I’ve built up this image in my head about having my own, but-” he took on the detrimental tone Jeongguk hated hearing from him. “I’m starting to wonder if I’d even be cut out for it.”

Jeongguk sat up. “Jimin, are you kidding me right now? You’re going to be the best dad. You already are.”

“I’m not a dad, though, Jeongguk-ah.” Jimin huffed in laughter. “I would need kids to hold that title.”

“Like you don’t have mine wrapped around your fingers.” He didn’t think before, barreling on. “Besides, you don’t need to have the title of dad to be a good one. Seeing you interact with my kids makes me jealous of whoever you decide to start a family with.”

“Pft. Jeongguk-ah, that’s a little-”

“I’m not joking. Whoever it ends up being they better keep their guard up or I’ll-”

His self-preservation kicked in at the perfect time. He pressed a hand over his mouth as an added preventative measure. Adrenaline kickstarted his heart into a roar.

“Or you’ll what?” Jimin asked, still laughing. Not at all aware of the crisis he was going through because of his flippant thought.

Or I’ll steal you away.

Jeongguk squeezed his eyes shut, the knot in his chest tightening. 

“Nothing,” he forced out, curling into a ball. His stomach hurt. “You’re just—you’ll be a good dad. When it happens.”

“When it happens,” he repeated, clearly unconvinced and unmotivated. He mumbled something else, something Jeongguk was sure he wasn’t supposed to hear. “I’ve been waiting for it to happen for a long time.”

Hearing Jimin talk like this physically pained him. He wanted to reassure him that it would happen. He wasn’t convinced for a second that there weren’t hundreds of boys out there clamoring for his attention. But he held his breath instead, frustrated by the hurt his own thoughts caused.

Jeongguk figured out a lot of things within the past couple of months. But this… this wasn’t one of them. He put it off because he was scared.

He didn’t want to be scared anymore.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to pull us off topic-”

“Park Jimin,” he cut in firmly. “It will happen. Anyone who tells you otherwise, including yourself, is an idiot. You are irresistibly kind, charming, hilarious, and gorgeous; no sane person wouldn’t want you.”

I want you.

He couldn’t hear his own thoughts, his heart beat too loud in his ears. Wiping his sweaty hands on his sweatpants, he continued, far quieter than before.

“You’re more than enough.” Jimin’s breath hitched. “A very wise person told me that a while ago.”

He listened to the man exhale shakily. Jeongguk wished they weren’t halfway across the world from each other. He wanted more than anything to pull him into his arms and hold him, just as Jimin had done for him.

“You’re doing it again,” Jimin choked out wetly. Jeongguk held his breath, barely able to hold himself still. “Every time I try to let go-”

Jeongguk’s earbuds disconnected. He removed them with a curse, groping for his phone. To his horror, it wasn’t his earbuds that were the problem. A red battery signal blinked up at him from his phone. He bolted off the couch, nearly braining himself when he tripped over the coffee table.

It took him several minutes to find a charger, and several more for his phone to get enough juice to wake up again. Jeongguk had bitten off all the nails on one hand by the time he was able to call him back.

“Hyung,” he gasped as soon as it connected. “I’m so so sorry, my phone died-”

“It’s alright,” Jimin hummed, entirely too calm. “It’s late there. You should go to sleep. Heeseung has school in the morning.”

“W-wait, Jimin what were you saying-”

“It’s not that important.” He knew he was smiling. A forced smile that didn’t reach his eyes and only served to mask emotion he didn’t want Jeongguk to see. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

Those words set him back in a hotel room. Him lying on the couch while Jimin stood at one of the beds, unzipping a suitcase.

Things had changed then.

Things were different now too.

“I’ll talk to you next Monday.”

“Jimin-”

“Jeongguk, please. Let it go.” He pressed his lips together, staring blankly at the table. “I—I’m not ready to talk about it and I shouldn’t have tried to. Give me some time, okay?”

He wanted to push. Especially since it obviously caused him deep seeded pain. But he clearly laid a boundary line and asked him not to cross it.

“Okay,” he rasped. “Just—I’m here, Jimin. Whenever you need me.”

“...thank you.”

The call ended, leaving Jeongguk numb and missing something.

He’d crawled into bed and weaseled the covers from Jungwon when he figured it out.

They hadn’t said I love you.

---

I’m ready to talk about him.

We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have pushed you as much as I did.

I was—well I was scared. I can admit that. And I wanted to avoid it but… I don’t want to avoid it anymore. I don’t want to avoid him. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve half of what I put him through. So whatever I have to do to fix it, to get my head screwed on straight, I want to do it. Not just for him, but for myself.

…you care about him a lot, don’t you.

More than I should. It’s—Kennedy it’s absolutely terrifying. Because I- I feel like I shouldn’t be allowed to move on when—it hasn’t even been two months since I got divorced. I thought I didn’t want anything with him but I. Every time I think about him I just- I want to do everything to ensure his happiness. And I want to be a part of that. I want to help cause it.

Okay. Real question here. How did you ever convince yourself that what you felt for this guy was platonic? Jeongguk you are so gay for him it’s actually painful.

I know. I- Does childhood fear of homophobic slurs, my best friend in college telling me that us making out was a mistake, and trying not to fall in love with someone else while married explain why I might have suppressed the fact that I’m apparently not completely straight?

…well damn. I want the whole story now. Start from the beginning. What is this about high school?

---

When August bled into September, Jeongguk got a call in the middle of the night.

“Jimin?” he garbled, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Is everything-”

“Sorry to wake you up,” he hurried to say, hushed yet brimming with energy. “But go look outside.”

He made a confused noise, but slipped out of bed. He accidently disturbed Jungwon, making him huff and whine. His children may have been small, but they took up a lot of space while sleeping.

“Wha’s outside?” he mumbled, forgoing a shirt. He blindly walked in the dark to the door, cursing when he tripped on a toy left out. Jimin laughed breathily while he whined in pain.

“Just go look!”

His fingers slipped along the lock, but he got the door open and flicked on the small door light. He peered out over the horizon—blocked by other mobile homes—and frowned.

“What am I looking at?”

“Uhm. It should be there? A little box. Oh crap did I get the address wrong-”

Jeongguk looked down at his feet, searching along the ramp porch until he snagged on a box.

“I got it. But why did you-”

“Open it!”

Awake and amused, he jammed the phone between his shoulder and head. It was a small box and clearly not shipped. There was a little ribbon bow that he untied, asking Jimin questions as he went.

“Jimin, seriously, what is this? And how did you get it here? There’s no shipping label. Did you somehow get the contact info of my neighbors and have them plant it-?”

“Shut up,” he groaned. “Just open the box.”

“You’re not being very nice to me, you know. First you wake me up in the middle of the night and then you…”

He trailed off once he lifted the lid.

Inside was a snapped leather keychain. He flicked it open with his finger and pinched out the smooth metal. He flipped it over in his palm, throat tightening after he’d read both engraved sides.

~A little <3 Pocket Hug~
Whenever you find yourself doubting, just remember that you are more than enough.

“Jimin-hyung,” he rasped. “How did you-”

“I know I could have just shipped it and you would have gotten it the same day, but… I don’t know. I wanted- Yoongi’s in Miami for a concert so I asked him to drive down to you and… aah now that I’m thinking of it that was too much wasn’t it-”

“No, Jimin it’s—it’s perfect. I love it.” He closed his palm around the circle of metal, relishing in its cool touch against his palm. “Thank you.”

“...you’re welcome.” He took a deep breath. “It’s midnight now, so… Happy birthday, Jeongguk-ah.”

“Thank you.”

It was as if both of them were holding their breath. Things they could say hanging in the space, but neither of them were brave enough to say it.

“I’ve got to go now… I’m actually in the middle of something but I slipped out for a few minutes.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. Just-” Blinking rapidly, he squinted in the dark. He bit the inside of his cheek, straightening. “Thanks a lot, hyung. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m glad. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Later,” he agreed, eyes still tracking. He hadn’t noticed. “Love you.”

He hung up at the edge of Jimin’s love you and stepped to the edge of the ramp railing, crossing his arms over the top.

“Yoongi-ssi.”

The man stopped, gravel skittering under his boots. Jeongguk heard him sigh heavily before he looked up. He couldn’t meet his eyes because of his ballcap.

“Jimin didn’t know how far a drive it is from Miami to Orlando, did he?” He tried joking, wanting to ease the tension between them.

“He didn’t,” he agreed lowly.

“Yet you still drove out here.”

Yoongi shrugged, bomber jacket shifting with his shoulders. His hands were hidden in his pockets, one shoe tip digging into the ground.

“You got a place to stay?”

“I was planning on getting a hotel.”

“Come inside?” he offered, ignoring his own unease. “I mean. The couch isn’t glorious, but it’ll save you some money.” He licked his lips, feeling stupid. He was talking to a successful artist. But he had ulterior motives and he made them known. “I think we should talk. It’s—it’s a bit long overdue.”

Yoongi visibly hesitated. Jeongguk watched him with tired eyes, waiting for him to reject his offer. To his surprise, he let out the breath he’d been holding and nodded.

“Let’s talk.”

---

Okay. So. There was the boy in high school that you rejected out of fear, then Isaiah. Unfortunately that one didn’t go better, but hindsight is twenty-twenty. You were young, dumb, and-

Hey. Remember I had moved from a country where same-sex relationships are taboo. So hearing “I’m sorry; it was a mistake” wasn’t productive to my growth. Never mind the fact that he was probably talking about the fact that we were wasted out of our minds and he was convinced I was straight.

His first mistake. Never assume. Jimin made that same mistake, didn’t he?

…kind of. 

Hold that thought. I need to ask Zachary for popcorn. By the way, he’s been hitting on you.

Oh. Wait, what?!

You have no gaydar.

---

“You were right.”

Yoongi looked up from the couch, still absently fluffing the pillow Jeongguk had given him. He didn’t tell the other man that it was his own, since they didn’t have a lot of bedding.

“I’m not as straight as I thought.”

He didn’t know why he expected Yoongi to snort, laugh, or say I told you so. When he did none of those things, Jeongguk felt as though the rug had been pulled out from underneath him. He watched him warily, not missing the soul searching gaze Yoongi pinned on him.

“Why haven’t you told him?”

It was the quietest he’d heard him. Jeongguk crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the fridge. He took a controlled breath.

“I’m not ready,” he admitted, ashamed but firm. “I need more time. I haven’t—I haven’t figured myself out fully. I want to be sure so I don’t end up hurting him more than I would by never saying anything.”

He looked down at the peeling linoleum. “I don’t even know if he still-”

“Jeon, he asked me to drive five hours just to give you a damn birthday present at midnight.” There was the snort Jeongguk was waiting for. “I think he’s still in love with you.”

Jeongguk didn’t know what to say in response to that, so his brain snagged the safest information.

“...it’s three and a half-”

“I avoided the tolls.”

“Oh.”

Yoongi sighed, dropping down to the edge of the couch. He scrubbed his hands through his hair. Jeongguk had nearly gasped when he’d taken off his ballcap, revealing a shocking shade of blue. He hadn’t kept up with the rapper since meeting him in person.

“I’m mad at you,” he revealed, looking up with sharp eyes. “Or. I was. I had the drive to think about it and put together the pieces I’ve been hearing from the others.”

“They didn’t tell you?” he asked quietly, unsure of what else to say. He honestly didn’t imagine talking to Min Yoongi again. He thought they’d lit the bridge on fire together, standing on opposite ends and not looking back when the planks fell.

“I kind of made it clear to them that I didn’t care,” he grumbled. “But I still heard things. For the longest time I thought you divorced your wife for him.”

Jeongguk’s jaw clenched.

“Obviously that’s not true. I figured that out when you didn’t make a move on him when things were finalized.” He tilted his head at him. “Your relationship was already screwed up long before Jimin came into the picture.”

“...you know, I was starting to wonder if I overreacted last time, but I don’t think I did.”

“I’ve got a sharp tongue and blunt words.” He shrugged. “It hits harder if it’s true.”

He was right in his assumption. Yoongi and Kennedy were very alike.

“I am sorry for what I said,” he continued quietly, ducking his head to stare at his hands. “I never should have cornered you like that.”

He observed him for a long moment.

“I forgive you. As long as you can forgive me for how manic I was.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-hearted smirk. “Considering what you were dealing with, that’s pretty easy for me to do.”

Jeongguk nodded, breathing out slowly. He pushed off the fridge, crossing the room in two strides.

“Let’s start over?” he held out his hand. “It’s been really awkward listening to your music knowing you didn’t like me very much.”

“I never disliked you,” Yoongi murmured, taking his hand. “I was worried about you.”

His nose tingled and his eyes pinched with unscheduled tears. Yoongi squeezed his hand, a small show of comfort.

“Thank you for worrying, Yoongi-hyung.”

He nodded, squeezing his hand one more time with a small, “Happy birthday, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk retreated back into his room, holding tight to the silver disc in his other hand. Once the door was closed behind him, he brought his closed first to lay over his heart.

He’d gotten his wish.

---

Well, that’s certainly a story. Hey, don’t laugh. That was a lot, Mr. Jimin-is-a-side-character. Not going to lie, I enjoyed listening to this version far more than the last because I feel like I understand you better. Now I know why you gave so much grace to Heejin for cheating. Let’s talk about that. The emotional side about it and then the hug. First off, I want you to stop feeling so guilty. You handled it really well and I hesitate to even call it cheating.

But I-

Let me explain? Emotional cheating is a really complicated subject and a lot of people misunderstand it. And I don’t think the misunderstandings are misplaced. But what you did with Jimin wasn’t full blown. It would have been if you had been saying things like, “I wish I could be with you instead of her” or “It sucks that we can’t kiss right now.” If you hid him from her and if you were actively seeking him out to discuss all the problems you had with Heejin, the frustrations, the things that were missing—all of this with the intent to leave her for him, then it would have been cheating. Instead, you caught yourself multiple times and drove away from the subject. You never shared anything with the intention to start something with him. You both were honest with her about your feelings when they happened. That’s vital.

What about the hug? I was fully aware that I felt something for him and he warned me that-

Yes. I would call that cheating. But-! And people don’t like hearing excuses when it comes to cheating and the “well this happened and I was feeling this way and-” but here’s the difference. At that point, the divorce was settled. You weren't changing your mind. The papers weren't signed, sure, but let’s be honest. There have been so many people who are with another lover during the divorce process. That’s because the decay of the relationship started long before divorce was even talked about. When it is, the relationship is basically over already. I’m not saying you did that—you didn’t. Not to that extent. We can talk about morals all day long, but you didn’t do anything with Jimin intentionally until that point. When you and your wife were in agreement that it was over. I think I’d be harsher on you if it had been anything more than a hug. But it was a hug. There may have been more under the surface…

“...but what was the main intention?”

Jeongguk clasped and unclasped the leather keychain pouch. His eyes stung from the tears he’d let loose. He’d kept his longer hair, wanting to try it out. It did wonders to hide his face.

Kennedy let him sit and think. She twirled a pen around her fingers, attention on his hands. She’d asked about it last time and reveled in Jeongguk’s furious blush.

Gathering himself together, he smoothed a finger over the top of the coin.

“To say goodbye,” he whispered.

He felt more than saw Kennedy nod. She set the pen down on her table, shifting on the beanbag.

“That means a lot more than you think it does,” she hummed. Jeongguk glanced up at her, getting stuck on the severe focus of her gaze. She gave him a small, pained smile.

“Because in a moment of infidelity, you let yourself hold him just to let him go.”

Kennedy let her gaze drop to the papers scattered around her desk. She gathered them up in one fell swoop, much like she’d taken Jeongguk’s breathing. He watched her tuck them into a binder and then shut it. Her elbows went to the table as she laced her fingers together.

“The question is,” she said slowly. “What are you going to do now? You have a semblance of identity. You’ve unpacked the baggage you’ve been carrying. You don’t have an obligation to your ex. What’s the plan?”

Jeongguk snapped the keychain closed.

“I think… I think I’m going to go to Disneyworld.”

Kennedy grinned.

Notes:

1) I wanted to delve much deeper into the Heeseung hitting a kid at school, but I would NOT have finished the chapter and probably added another two to the count. As much as I love the kids, this issss supposed to be a story about Jimin and Jeongguk. So. Sorry boys.

2) The lady at the school that kept mispronouncing names is me doing that on purpose. I didn't understand how easy it is to mispronounce their names until I started learning Korean. There are a lot of vowels/consonants that sound very similar, especially when they're on their own and you don't have other vowels/consonants to change the sound. I've been mispronouncing Heeseung's name my whole life. :'D

3) I spent four hours today on Jimin and Jeongguk's long solo conversation. I have three different full drafts of how it went sitting in my "possible scenes" document. I actually started crying while writing one of them because it just. Hit. the bad thing about being an actress is that I'm used to putting myself in other people's shoes. Combine that with writing and... well. I had one of those moments. Where I was so in the scene that the emotions became my own and I just. Cried. I wish that version would have worked, but it didn't quite align with where I wanted to take the story. Maybe I'll post it as an alternate universe kind of deal later on.

4) Yoongi and Jeongguk are finally friends again!!! Yay!!! At first I was going to have Yoongi just drop off the gift and leave and then Jeongguk hunted him down a day later, but after seeing how long the drive was avoiding the tolls, I went "Nope. Bros getting a sleepover"

5) I actually love pocket hugs. They're a real thing and they're adorable and really good gifts. I bought it one for my mom for Christmas when I was on my mission. She loves it and it's still hanging from her keys today. So. If you need a good gift idea, go to Amazon and look that up.

6) Kennedy talking about emotional cheating is actually me learning more about it. From my initial understanding of it when I wrote what Seokjin said to Jeongguk to how I understand it now after digging a little deeper. I can't say I'm an expert and I probably still don't have it correct, but I'm trying guys. XD

7) I'm really excited for the next couple of chapters!!! We've got 4 left with an epilogue! I can't believe we've come this far in such little time... (excluding when I was. I don't know. Telling people about Jesus Christ for 18 months XD ) I'm super excited to finish this! Honestly, I'm so grateful for each of you. I've said this a few times on Where to Run, but I don't think authors could continue to hold a pen if there wasn't anyone to read what they wrote. So thank you for giving this time and attention. I appreciate it more than you know. <3