blossom

by sofwrites

Summary:

If someone or something blossoms, they develop good, attractive, or successful qualities. Synonyms: flower, bloom, prosper, thrive.

Blossom: to come into one's own.

Notes:

Partly for my dad, who will thankfully never know of this site's existence. Not everything but quite a lot is inspired by my father-daughter relationship which is why writing this from the dad's pov was nicer than anticipated. I love you and may you never find this acc <3

Partly - mostly - also for the anniversary of the fic that started all this if love is blind, and i love you, then why bother with rose-tainted glasses? because most of what I've written since then wouldn't exist if this fic didn't. Thanks for showing so much interest in it and I hope this final part answers some of the inquiries from the last one!

 

Enjoy <3

14

“Daddy?”

 

“Mmm?” Minho replies, a little distractedly. “Yeah?”

 

“Can you bring my bag of toiletries?” Heejin asks from the bathroom she’s currently occupying, having locked herself in there before checking out the place they’re set to spend the next week. “It’s the red one. Please.”

 

Darting his eyes over her open suitcase, Minho quickly finds the bag and heads over to the bathroom, knocking twice to make her open the door just the tiniest smidge. He hands it over wordlessly and then she shuts the door instantly, turning the sink on inside. Minho sighs.

 

You’d think that bringing your teenage daughter to Bali would raise her spirits just a little, but no. Not his teenage daughter at least.

 

“Everything okay?” Hyunjin asks once Minho returns to their room, almost finished with unpacking his own suitcase.

 

“Not sure,” Minho replies truthfully. “Doesn’t she seem upset to you? She’s been quiet all day. I know that the whole traveling thing is a lot, but…”

 

He trails off, realizing that he might just have to drop it. Heejin doesn’t like talking about everything, and as hard as that is to accept sometimes, he just has to deal with it. He can’t force her to share things she’s reluctant to share, but… But Minho can’t help thinking that it would be easier for all of them if she did.

 

“She’ll get over it,” Hyunjin says with a smile, seemingly not too worried. “I know you wanna fix everything, but she’ll come around when she decides to. If she wants to be miserable for this trip, you can’t stop her. Let her be miserable.”

 

“What if I don’t want her to be miserable?” Minho sulks, glaring at his own suitcase while his husband laughs and rounds the bed to hug him from behind.

 

“She knows that too, I’m sure,” Hyunjin assures him, chuckling close to his ear. “Let’s just give her some space. You know she’ll throw a fit if we smother her. And you can always smother me instead.”

 

“Thanks,” Minho says, unable to stop his own laughter, and leans into the kiss Hyunjin leaves on his jaw. It’s nice. He wouldn’t mind another. “‘Seems like you’re smothering me, though.”

 

Just like that, Minho sort of forgets about it. Hyunjin helps him unpack and they eventually hear Heejin leave her bathroom to do the same in her own bedroom of the week, so after a while Hyunjin heads over to ask her to pick the dinner for today. Things sort of turn around after that and she mentions how nice the bathroom was and how comfortable the bed felt as they eat, so Minho figures that she must have just been tired and wanted to wash up after the flight.

 

The next day, he realizes how wrong he was.

 

“Come to the pool with us,” he tries persuading his daughter who has - once again - locked herself inside the bathroom. Except this time, it’s been forty minutes since she disappeared after breakfast. “It’s tempered and I know you were excited to wear your swimsuit and you brought all those sunglasses with you. Come on, angel, I’ll help you carry everything.”

 

“No!” she calls from the other side of the door, and Minho sighs, slumping against it. “I don’t wanna go to the pool, why can’t you go without me? I’ll have lunch with you later, just text me.”

 

“Why don’t you wanna come?” Minho insists, because he really wasn’t lying about her excitement. He has no idea what’s happening right now and that’s what bothers him; not her desire to stay inside. If she’d been the type to avoid the sun and cuddle up beneath blankets with some books, he wouldn’t have cared if she wanted to stay up here.

 

But she’s not that type, and that’s why Minho can’t seem to let it go.

 

“That’s none of your business!” Heejin tells him promptly, which makes Hyunjin laugh behind him where he’s practically stomping his feet to get outside.

 

Minho sighs. Does he really just leave her?

 

“Heejinnie,” he starts, giving it one last go, but he doesn’t get very far before he’s interrupted by that familiar voice inside the bathroom.

 

“Can you just leave me alone?” she shouts, definitely upset, and Minho didn’t want that, but-- “The trip is already ruined, so can you just let me stay here and be upset by myself so I don’t have to ruin your trip as well? Just go, dad! I’ll be fine.”

 

Before Minho can fully process what she’s telling him, Hyunjin has dropped his bag to the floor and is frowning as well, flickering hesitant eyes between Minho’s and the door concealing their agitated daughter. It’s evident that neither of them are entirely sure what to do, because listening and leaving her alone might be the best cause of action, but… But Heejin doesn’t really like being alone either. Even when she’s reluctant to share what’s bothering her, she’ll seek comfort from them. Right now, Minho can’t think of a single scenario where she’s told them to go so she wouldn’t ruin anything for them. That’s new.

 

The sight of his torn and worried husband settles it for Minho, though. He needs to get to the bottom of this and figure out what’s going on before deciding what to do.

 

“Listen to me,” he says into the crack between the door and its frame. “If your dad and I were to go downstairs, I can promise you that both of us will be thinking about you either way. Either you come with us so we can keep an eye on you and whatever this is, or you tell me right now what’s going on and then I’ll decide whether to leave you or not.”

 

“But you won’t even get it!” she argues, clearly frustrated.

 

“Then explain it to me,” Minho argues right back.

 

“No!”

 

Minho turns around and makes a face that has Hyunjin smiling faintly in amusement, before taking a deep breath and returning to the door.

 

“Lee Heejin,” he manages, with all the patience the parent of a teenage girl can muster, “if you don’t open this door right now, I--”

 

“Fine!” she shouts, unlocking it and glaring viciously at both of them. Minho sort of glares back, he’s pretty sure.

 

Then his face softens, because he spots the sheen of wetness in her eyes, and Heejin doesn’t protest when he pulls her into his arms, bathrobe and all. She actually cries a little, and that makes Minho grateful that he pushed. He doesn’t want her to be alone with this.

 

“Oh, precious,” Hyunjin murmurs, coming up to stroke her hair and rest the other hand on her shoulder. “What’s got you so sad, hmm? How can we make this better?”

 

“You can’t,” she tells them, finally spilling the beans. “My stupid period wasn’t supposed to come yet, but it did, so now I can’t go in the pool and I don’t wanna wear my new swimsuit because it might get ruined and I don’t wanna go in the stupid sun and be even more uncomfortable than I already am. So, there. You can leave now. I’ll stay here with my stupid body and be miserable by myself.”

 

Minho pinches his eyebrows together. How did he not realize that?

 

“Of course you’re not,” Hyunjin says, before Minho can. “We’ll sit down and you can explain what you’re feeling since you’re completely right in that we don’t know that, and then we’ll figure out how to make this vacation enjoyable for all of us. You included, little lady.”

 

“Hmph,” Heejin says, but then she nods. Minho breathes a sigh of relief. Thank God for his husband.

 

He guides them over to the couch, Hyunjin sitting down on the floor in front of them, while Minho keeps rubbing Heejin’s back with his hand. Of course she doesn’t want to go in the pool. Of course she doesn’t want to undress in a public spot. Of course she doesn’t want to be sweating in that sun.

 

Of course she’d be upset that Minho insisted on her doing all those things before accusing him of not understanding.

 

Their daughter sighs heavily before grabbing the nearest pillow and scrunching it up on her lap, hugging it close to her as she starts explaining. She’s definitely correct in stating that they don’t really know what she’s going through, but Minho also knows that he was right in asking for an explanation because otherwise things definitely won’t get any easier.

 

“It feels like I’m being stabbed in the stomach,” she says bluntly, which Minho thinks is an exaggeration because a) she’s never been stabbed anywhere and b) surely not. He’s smart enough not to say that, though. “The pain meds we have at home help, but those can’t be brought on the plane, right?”

 

“No, but we can find other ones,” he assures, since they all contain the same thing anyway. He’ll just ask for the nearest pharmacy down in the reception. “I’ll figure that out once we’re done talking.”

 

“Okay,” Heejin nods. “Well, the cramps and pain’s one part of it. That’s gonna be the worst today and tomorrow, I think. I won’t wanna do anything for those two days.”

 

“Guess what, sunflower,” Hyunjin smiles from the floor, “‘not doing anything’ is exactly what we came here to do.”

 

More nods, as this thankfully seems to please her.

 

“Then there’s the… blood,” she says, already squirming. Minho’s heart goes out to her.

 

Heejin is so squeamish, which most of the time can be helped by him doing literally everything for her - including putting on band-aids - but this is just something she’s gonna have to live with for the upcoming thirty-five years, give or take. That’s just tragic. And awful. If Minho could take that part of her future away from her, he would.

 

But she explains how she never feels completely relaxed and comfortable and how she worries constantly that clothes or furniture will get ruined, that someone will see, that she’ll need a bathroom and there isn’t one, and so on. They each nod and listen for this part as well, which is where Minho supposes there’s most to be done.

 

(She doesn’t go further into her mood swings or hormones running wild, but she doesn’t need to. Hyunjin has always been in touch with his emotions, so to speak, so that’s nothing new, and Minho is used to interacting with people in various stages of worry, sadness, and frustration. It’s whatever.)

 

“If we went down to the pool area and made sure there was a parasol or some other kind of shade,” Hyunjin suggests, “would that make it easier to be outside?”

 

“Yeah,” Heejin replies, thankfully calm again. “I’m still pissed that this vacation won’t go the way I wanted it to, but… Yeah, it’d feel better.”

 

“Good enough for me,” Hyunjin tells her. “Do you wanna do a quick shopping spree? For other swimsuits or robes or shorts or anything? We can go look while your dad finds painkillers and stuff. Right now or after lunch or tomorrow, whenever you want.”

 

“Okay,” she says quietly, leaning into Minho’s shoulder as he wraps his arms around her fully, holding her close. “Yeah, I think… I think that would be good.”

 

Silence falls upon them for a moment after that, all of them calming down after the explosive start to the conversation earlier. Minho feels like he hasn’t said as much as he should have in comparison to how insistent he was earlier, but he’s also not entirely sure what to say. She doesn’t seem to be upset with him anymore, at least.

 

“Sorry for bickering earlier,” he murmurs, kissing the top of her head. “You were right, we don’t get it. That’s why we want you to explain, though. To help however we can.”

 

“Sorry for yelling at you,” she replies, just as quietly. Minho squeezes her arm. “I don’t actually want to spend the whole week up here, even though it’s a really nice place.”

 

“I know, honey,” Minho smiles. “Shall we start off by going downstairs and get milkshakes to check out the place, and then get a cab to run our errands, hmm? I’m sure there’s a supermarket with some fun snacks nearby too. What do you think?”

 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Heejin agrees, even sporting a faint smile of her own. “Thank you.”

 

“Don’t mention it,” Hyunjin says with a hand to her knee.

 

“‘Love you,” Minho says into her hair.

 

Heejin smiles properly, and thankfully declares herself really happy with their stay one week later, once they’re on the flight back home, since not even nature can work against her apparently with the parents she’s got.

 

---

 

14.5

“Daddy?”

 

“In here,” Minho calls from their home office and the bills he’s in the middle of going through. “What’s up?”

 

Heejin enters a second later, leaning against the doorframe with a huff exaggerated enough to blow her hair out of her face. “I think there’s something on my butt and I need you to check because I can’t see.”

 

There’s no resisting the amused chuckle in Minho’s chest, so he lets it out before smacking his palms onto his thighs and getting up to follow her into her room.

 

“The things I do for you, babygirl,” he says as she lays down on her stomach on the bed, pulling her shorts and underwear slightly sideways before pointing excessively at the tiny red dot just above her thigh. “That’s the culprit?”

 

“Yes!” she exclaims, pointing harder. “What the hell is that?”

 

“Honey, that’s a pimple.”

 

“What?” she bursts, seemingly very confused by this. Minho is secretly glad that she can’t see how entertained he is. “Well, why is there a pimple… there?”

 

“I don’t know,” Minho replies calmly, “should I tell it to go away?”

 

The sigh she heaves is so deep that the blanket beside her flutters, which only amuses her dad further. It seems like she needs a moment to figure out exactly what it is that she wants to do now that Minho has identified the issue, so he leaves her to her thoughts for a bit.

 

“Well,” she says after a while, “can’t you just pop it?”

 

“Mmm,” Minho hums, because he can. “No, I think it wants to stay there for a little longer actually, it does look quite comfortable.”

 

“Dad, please remove it, I literally can’t sit on my butt.”

 

He does laugh at that, but Minho also leans slightly closer to get a better look at this thing. He could probably remove it, even if it’s a little early. The location of it is simply that unfortunate.

 

“Don’t move,” he tells her, “I’ll go grab my emergency surgery kit.”

 

“Oh, my God, please don’t do surgery on my butt!”

 

“I thought you wanted it gone.”

 

She pauses. She does want it gone, that much is obvious. And laying down like this, she’s probably realizing that she wouldn’t even see him doing whatever it is he’s gonna do, which is a clear advantage considering how squeamish she is. ‘Whatever it is he’s gonna do’ is pop the damn pimple, obviously, but Minho isn’t about to tell her that yet. He’s currently busy having a little too much fun at his daughter’s expense.

 

“Please do gentle surgery on my butt,” she relents after some contemplation, huffing into her crossed arms. “And get the numbing band-aid things!”

 

“Of course, my love.”

 

About fifteen minutes, two band-aids, and one numbing gel later, Minho starts working on the pimple. The preparations are just as exaggerated as her reactions, but he’s always been a little too good at indulging her. What the hell does it matter if he uses some of that stuff sort of unnecessarily when it gives Heejin some piece of mind and the sense that he listens to and respects her opinion? Not one bit.

 

He’s only just breaking through the skin of the stubborn thing when a familiar voice is heard right through the open door, and Minho has to keep a straight face because if he bursts out laughing now, Heejin will most likely get mad at him.

 

“Uhm.”

 

Minho doesn’t look up, but he can hear the confusion in his husband’s voice as he most likely stares at his 14-year-old on her bed and his co-parent with both hands and eyes closely fixated on her butt.

 

“Hi, baby,” Minho greets him when Heejin only waves. “As you can see, I’m performing surgery on our daughter, so please speak calmly because this is officially my OR.”

 

“Clearly,” Hyunjin replies, slowly entering and sitting down cross-legged by the foot end of her bed, close to where Heejin’s head is resting. “What’s going on, little one?”

 

“There’s a pimple I can’t see or reach,” Heejin explains, “and I can’t sit down because it hurts so I asked daddy to remove it and he offered gentle surgery and now you’re here so we’re all here.”

 

“I see,” Hyunjin says. Minho doesn’t see his face, but he can still recognize the smile in Hyunjin’s voice. “That was nice of him.”

 

She must nod, because her body moves sort of unexpectedly and Minho is really glad he’s not actually performing surgery. Tweezers and gloved hands and whatever that other thing she insisted on getting is called are by far enough.

 

“He said ‘the things I do for you, babygirl’,” she informs Hyunjin on the floor.

 

“Sounds like something he’d say, yes,” his husband agrees. “You okay? ‘Wanna talk about something else?”

 

“Yeah,” Heejin replies, sounding grateful. The feeling quickly spreads to Minho as well, who is grateful for having a husband who both knows Heejin so well and also how to distract her. “How was your day?”

 

Easily and sort of magnified, Hyunjin proceeds to describe his day in intricate detail. He starts off with complaining about how Minho snored in his sleep, and then how the traffic was awful that morning, and then how a kid in his first class got violently sick and it was a whole thing. The day seem to have turned around after that at least, and Hyunjin sounds far more excited when he tells her about the progress his most advanced class is making, and that’s where Minho loses track of the conversation because Heejin understands the techniques and asks the right questions while Minho can barely follow when he’s paying full attention.

 

Even once he considers himself done, he simply sits up beside her on the bed and rests his hand on the back of her knee in a silent indication that it’s over, choosing to let them finish the conversation.

 

When there’s a lull in it, Heejin slowly peeks over her shoulder. Minho gives her an encouraging smile and is satisfied when she falls back to the bed with a relieved sigh.

 

“All gone, angel,” he assures her. “Do you want aloe vera or soothing gel or anything?”

 

“Is it red and angry-looking?”

 

“A little,” he tells her truthfully.

 

She hums in thought.

 

“Then yes, please,” she decides, and Hyunjin quickly gets back to his feet.

 

“I’ll grab some from the bathroom,” he explains before disappearing, and when he returns, he hands the bottle directly to Minho. Their squeamish daughter would most likely have done it otherwise, they know her well enough for that.

 

It doesn’t take much, but Minho makes sure there’s a coated layer covering the area either way. With this as well as the preparations earlier, he doesn’t really see the point in arguing or withholding all the medical assistance there is.

 

“Okay?” he asks once he’s all done, putting the lid back on. “Better?”

 

“Yeah,” Heejin says quietly, her smile a little subdued but present. “Thanks.”

 

“Anytime,” he promises.

---

 

15

“Daddy?”

 

“What’s up?” Minho responds, looking over his shoulder as Heejin comes up to bury her face in his back. “Hmm? ‘Something happen, angel?”

 

She nods mutely, nose digging into Minho’s spine, so he turns around until it’s poking at his sternum instead.

 

“‘Wanna tell me what about?”

 

This time, she mutters something intelligible. It’s not enough for Minho to catch on, but it is enough to gather that she is, in fact, going to tell him about it.

 

“I didn’t catch that,” he confides, quietly, and she sighs before turning her head sideways to speak up again.

 

“I failed my exam,” she mumbles, and Minho’s heart instantly drops. Oh, no.

 

“What?” he asks, tugging her back into his chest. “Everything okay? Come here.”

 

“Are you mad?” she whispers, probably on the verge of tears, and Minho can’t help but feel the same way.

 

“Of course not, Heejinnie,” he reassures her calmly. “Of course not. Nobody’s perfect, we can’t do everything all the time. ‘Wanna tell me what it’s about? Did you not study hard enough or is there something else going on?”

 

Sighing and definitely close to tears, Heejin explains that no matter how hard she tries or how many times she repeats the math teacher’s instructions, she just doesn’t seem to get it. And that makes her feel stupid, so she doesn’t dare ask anyone else either. And Minho had been so tired after two emergency surgeries that particular week so she didn’t want to ask him either. And then she’d told herself that it’d probably be fine, but…

 

Then it wasn’t.

 

“First of all, you can always ask me,” Minho tells her firmly, stroking her hair. “Let me decide if I’m too tired or not. If I am, we’ll find some other time. And second of all, you’re not the first or last person to struggle with math. There are tutors, there are other books, there’s videos online, you have classmates… We’ll figure out what works best for you, yeah?”

 

“Okay,” Heejin whispers, digging her face into his shoulder again. She nods, though. “I’m supposed to retake the test in two weeks. I’m gonna ask Jisoo and Jimin how they did. And maybe Chaewonnie too.”

 

“Sounds good, little flower,” Minho replies softly. “I’m sure they’d help out if you asked them to. You’d help them if they asked you for it, right?”

 

Somewhere inside his chest, Heejin snorts.

 

“They don’t have to because I suck at math, remember?”

 

“You don’t suck at English or Japanese though, do you, honey?”

 

She mutters something intelligible once more, which is how Minho knows that she sees his point. Figuring it’s safe to smile since she can’t see his face anyway, he does just that.

 

“We’ll figure it out,” he settles, “and if not, your dad will happily sue your teacher for not doing his job correctly.”

 

“Oh, God,” Heejin laughs, shoulders trembling with it, “oh, he would, wouldn’t he?”

 

“Probably,” Minho chuckles. “Let’s consider that Plan… C, yes?”

 

---

 

15.5

“Daddy?”

 

“Hi, honey.”

 

“Hi!” Heejin calls, entering the living room where Minho is sitting with his laptop propped up in his lap. “When’d you get here? Did you have dinner yet?”

 

“Mm,” Minho replies, closing his screen. “Yeah, the last of the leftovers. How was your night with daddy, hmm? Did you have fun?”

 

Predictably, Heejin just about bursts with excitement as she immediately starts rambling about the exhibition they went to, and her impression of the artists and then of their respective pieces, and then the outfits of some of the visitors, and then the glass of champagne she was handed because she must have been assumed older than she is and how disgusting it was, and then--

 

Somewhere in there, Hyunjin joins them on the couch, leaning his head over Minho’s shoulders as he mostly listens as well and fills some gaps here and there while their daughter nods energetically. Minho has no idea how she’s supposed to fall asleep later since it’s a school night and all, but figures she’s old enough to power through her drowsiness otherwise. She’s been looking forward to this exhibition and since Hyunjin sort of was too, attending the opening seemed reasonable enough.

 

He estimates that they walked through the door around 10pm, and it takes Heejin at least an hour to get it all out. Despite that, Minho has a hard time letting his own exhaustion after his workday get the better of him once they get ready for bed and turns everything off for the night, which, naturally, his husband is fairly quick to notice.

 

“Hyung,” Hyunjin says after closing the door to their bedroom, resting his hands on Minho’s shoulders to knead them slowly. “‘Wanna tell me what’s bothering you?”

 

“It’s silly,” Minho mumbles, because it is. Hyunjin’s hands are working their own wonders, and maybe that’s enough? “Nothing, really.”

 

“Why do I get the feeling that that’s not true?”

 

Minho is torn between scoffing and smiling, and ends up somewhere in between.

 

“Minho, love,” Hyunjin whispers, wrapping both arms around Minho’s frame to hold him properly. “Talk to me. Is it about tonight? Did you change your mind about wanting to come?”

 

“No,” Minho replies truthfully, but… “It’s… related to that. Sort of.”

 

This seems to confuse Hyunjin, who makes an inquisitive sound before guiding Minho over to the bed, pushing gently until their legs are dangling off the edge and he can get the whole story out of him. It’s not the first time. They haven’t been married for twenty years for nothing.

 

“It’s more about Heejinnie than the exhibition,” Minho sighs, messing up his hair in a familiar habit before shaking it out over his eyes. “How she… Oh, this is stupid. Never mind.”

 

“Let me be the judge of that,” Hyunjin insists. “Spit it out.”

 

“Fine,” Minho relents, helpless against the smile pulling at his lips. “Ever since she quit dancing a few years ago, it sort of feels like… Like I don’t have much in common with her. Which sucks, actually. I’m jealous. Which really sucks, because it’s not like…”

 

He trails off, but maybe he doesn’t need to explain any further than that. With a large hand over his chest and another gentle push downwards, Minho falls back on top of their covers and opens his arms when Hyunjin follows behind, holding him close enough for Minho to smell the cologne on his husband’s shirt.

 

The familiar scent is comforting in itself.

 

“It’s not like I don’t want you to have that,” Minho mumbles into the thin fabric over Hyunjin’s shoulder. “I just want it too. Maybe I’m exaggerating, but it kind of feels like she comes to me for the hard things. For schoolwork she hates and medical stuff that scares her. And I’m glad that she evidently trusts me with that and wants to rely on me when things are difficult and frightening, but…

 

“But it’d be nice to do fun things too,” he admits, in the safety of Hyunjin’s arms. “I think it would be nice if she tugged on my sleeve to come do something she found exciting, not something she wishes didn’t exist. But she goes to you for that, because you usually like the same things and she knows that. I know that too. It’s not like I don’t get it, I just… wish things were a little different, I suppose.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin murmurs against him, pressing a soft kiss to Minho’s cheek. “I didn’t realize you felt that way. It doesn’t show. There’s no way Heejinnie’s ever thought of it like that.”

 

“I know,” Minho says quietly, because he doesn’t think their daughter is doing it on purpose or anything similar. “I know, she’s just oblivious to it. I don’t blame her, I’m not mad at her or anything, it’s more like… I’m just sad about it. All these ‘could’ve been’-situations.”

 

Beside him, Hyunjin hums in validation and understanding. He sounds a little sad about it too, but not otherwise upset, which is a relief. Minho doesn’t want this to be a big deal. It’s not a big deal. There are larger issues in the world.

 

“Do you wanna talk to her about it?” Hyunjin asks with another butterfly kiss to Minho’s cheek. “Do you want me to?”

 

“No,” Minho sighs. “No, neither. I don’t want her to feel bad about it and I don’t want her to force anything either. It’s no one’s fault that things are this way. It’ll be okay.”

 

“Mmm,” Hyunjin says, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

 

That’s fine. Minho knows that his husband wants to fix it, but he really doesn’t have to. He’s a grown man, he will live. He adores their daughter and loves when she calls for him for whichever reason, and he’ll never cease to be there for her. He’ll show up and help her out and keep being her reliable, trustworthy parent for as long as he lives. There’s absolutely no doubt about that, and he’s grateful that he gets to have that in itself. He really, really is.

 

He loves her with all his heart, and he knows that she loves him too. That’s all that matters.

 

“It’ll be okay,” he whispers, and he believes it. Hyunjin doesn’t reply, but he holds Minho tenderly before kissing him even sweeter, and Minho finds that to be enough as well.

 

*

 

Hyunjin waits almost twenty-four hours before setting his plan in motion, and Minho doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry when it dawns on him what his husband is doing. In some extremely strange kind of way, it feels a little bit like being set up for a blind date by his own parents rather than to hang out with his own daughter one-on-one, but at least Heejin doesn’t bat an eye when Hyunjin mentions that it’s been a while since they visited Minho at work, so maybe they should swing by after school?

 

Kind of predictably, she instantly agrees and they make plans for it, and Minho can’t deny that it feels good to watch them walk through the door to the clinic in the afternoon. Also very predictably, Hyunjin finds an excuse to leave so it’s just the two of them for most of the time, and just like that, Heejin’s interest in the animals and things Minho treats them for has been re-awakened.

 

When she asks to follow him in over breakfast the week after - skipping school because of awful cramps - he takes her without question, mostly stealing glances at her feeding and playing with the animals resting up after surgery until his lunch break where he takes her out, and then Heejin spends most of the afternoon hanging over his shoulder in his office or lounging in the armchair.

 

Minho makes a mental note to make the effort of asking her every now and then, since she doesn’t bother him in any way and is good with all the animals. Of course she can come if she wants to. And he thinks that Heejin does want to, considering the questions she asks and little things she seems to pick up on over the course of the day.

 

At the very least, he decides, he’ll take Heejin to a bunch of various animal cafés when there’s time for it, whether that’s a random weekend or simply a night where his husband wants to hole up in his studio and paint without either of them knocking on his door every five minutes. They’re a little codependent like that, Minho supposes, so it might be good for all of them.

 

Besides, cafés that have both cute animals and milkshakes are a safe bet with his daughter, so Minho promptly thanks his husband later that night for nudging him into action, because it takes no more than a week or two until Minho feels more back on track with his daughter than he has in years.

 

---

 

16

“Daddy?”

 

“Yeah, little love?”

 

“Can we go visit mom?”

 

Minho closes his eyes briefly, since his back is to Heejin either way, and takes a deep breath.

 

“Yeah, of course,” he replies, shutting down his laptop and getting up to face his daughter in the doorway, currently staring at the floor. “You should get your coat, though, yeah? And more, if you wanna stay for a bit.”

 

“Okay,” she mumbles, nodding a little, before turning on her feet and heading down the hallway.

 

Once again, Minho sighs. He’s been doing an awful lot of that lately. It’s hard not to when Heejin spends most of her time buried in bed or walking around like the living dead, nothing but a shell of the bright and energetic girl she usually is.

 

He figures that getting one’s heart broken will do that.

 

(He doesn’t actually know; doesn’t really consider anything in his life to have affected him that way. But this…)

 

“Dad, are you coming?”

 

“Yeah,” he calls back, dressing quickly for an hour or so outside. “Yeah, just a sec.”

 

*

 

“Hi, mom,” Heejin says heavily, putting her hand on the tombstone the way she usually greets her biological parents. “And dad. You’re not supposed to hear all this, though. Girls only.”

 

Minho can’t help his soft smile.

 

“I’m gonna go for a walk and maybe make a phone call,” he tells her, catching Heejin’s attention for a moment. “Take the car keys in case you get cold. Call me when you wanna go home if I’m not back yet.”

 

“Okay,” she nods. Nothing more, nothing less.

 

Despite that, Minho can’t help but lean in to hold her small face in his hands in order to leave a light kiss on her forehead, before leaving her alone with all her grief. His sixteen-year-old, who already knows more grief than he does around forty-five.

 

Calling it ‘unfair’ would be the understatement of the century.

 

He checks the time on his phone before calling his husband, and thankfully, it’s late enough that he should be heading home any second now. Thanking his own ability to think ahead, Minho takes the little ear buds out of their case and plops them into each ear before pressing ‘dial’.

 

“Hyung,” Hyunjin greets as soon as he picks up, and sure enough, Minho can hear the background noise consisting of afternoon traffic. “Hi. How’s she doing?”

 

“Not sure,” Minho replies with a huff. “We’re at the cemetery. She asked to see her mom.”

 

The absolute silence on the other end of the line sort of echoes how empty and drained Minho feels as well. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so helpless in his entire life. Which is saying quite a lot, in his opinion, considering his profession.

 

“Oh, God,” Hyunjin finally says, and Minho nods along on the small trail he’s walking. “Oh, honey. My little baby. God, my heart hurts. Boys are the worst, seriously.”

 

“Tell me about it,” Minho scoffs, kicking his feet into the dirty ground. “There is not one teenage boy who deserves her tears, and yet… Here we are. I guess it’s a good thing that her being sad makes me sad, because otherwise I’d be so angry that I genuinely wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

 

“Same,” Hyunjin huffs from his car. “I can’t talk about this. She asked for her mom. Christ. When’s the last time she did that?”

 

“Impromptu like this? Probably when she first got her period. It’s when she feels like she needs to practice talking about whatever’s going on with someone else before us, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah,” Hyunjin agrees quietly. “Yeah, it is, I know. I’m just… upset. Ugh. I wanna do something but I don’t know what. What do we do? We need to cheer her up, Minho. We need to make her smile again before we forget what she looks like smiling.”

 

Personally, Minho doesn’t think he’s capable of forgetting what Heejin’s smile looks like. He’s getting increasingly desperate to see it again, on the other hand, he can’t deny that.

 

“I don’t know,” he sighs into the phone call. “Can you stop by the store and get her more ice cream? That’s always a start with both of you, isn’t it? We’ll watch some dumb action movie with zero romance and that’s the plan for tonight. Long-term, though… I don’t know. I was actually thinking on the way over that we should just take her away for a week or two. Just get her head off of it. School’s been fine lately either way, so it should be okay, right? I honestly think it’d do her some good.”

 

“Agreed,” Hyunjin hums back. “Let’s suggest it later, see what she thinks. It’s not like we’d be leaving tomorrow either way, so… Yeah. Let’s do that. But ice cream first.”

 

*

 

“Did you get what you came for?” Minho asks softly once they’re back in the car, reversing out of the parking lot to pick up some food on the way home.

 

“Yeah, I think so,” Heejin replies with a sigh. “Thanks for taking me.”

 

“Anytime you want, little flower,” Minho promises. “I just spoke to your dad on the phone, he wanted take-out from that place he’s been obsessed with lately. What do you think?”

 

“Sounds good,” she agrees, which makes Minho’s hands heavy on the steering wheel.

 

She doesn’t really care what they eat, and he can tell. Just like he can tell that she hasn’t been eating like usual, either. How she’s lost her appetite along with her smile, and her energy along with her brightness. It’s devastating, frankly, to watch. To stand beside her and know that he can’t fix this for her. It breaks Minho’s heart, if anything ever did.

 

“Daddy?” she says only moments later, and Minho feels all hope of a normal evening seep out of him at the sound of her teary voice. It started over. “D’you think it’s…? Can I…? Would it be okay if I slept with you guys tonight?”

 

“Of course, precious,” he says gently, tempted to pull over but resisting the urge since they’re almost by the restaurant. “As many nights as you want, yeah? Your dad bought that thing a ridiculous size anyway, we could probably fit Jisoo and Nayeon noona as well if you wanted a sleepover.”

 

“No sleepovers,” Heejin protests, but it’s with a wet laugh that she does so. “I’ll probably go there this weekend. I don’t know yet.”

 

“That’s okay,” Minho hums, taking a left until he can finally stop the car and turn Heejin’s way. “You know they’re welcome, though. Maybe not in our bed, but you get the idea. And you can stay there if you want. We’ll probably bother you with memories of the first night you fell asleep in between us though.”

 

Heejin nods at this, wiping once at each eye.

 

“I’d like that,” she says quietly. “It’s so hard to fall asleep. It might be easier if you take turns boring me to sleep.”

 

“Well, you can count on that,” Minho promises. “If that’s what you want, we’ll do our best to deliver.”

 

“Thanks,” she whispers, and Minho wishes she wouldn’t. He wishes she wouldn’t thank them for their affection.

 

He doesn’t say that, though. Instead, he gets out of the car and shuts the door behind him, surprised to find his daughter doing the same. It’s a pleasant surprise, so he throws an arm over her shoulders and tugs her into his side for a second as she leans into him, finally opening up to the idea of her dads doing their best to help her out.

 

She just needed to clear things up with her mom first, and Minho supposes that he can live with that. As long as she comes back to him afterwards, safe and healthy and cuddly, he thinks he’ll be fine with driving her around and letting her do her thing.

 

“What’s on tonight’s menu, then?” he asks, prompting her to pick for him, which makes her concentrate on the task more seriously than when it was only her food she was responsible for. “You pick mine and I’ll pick yours? What do you say?”

 

“Game on,” Heejin mutters, already scanning the menu for something Minho will surely hate, and so, he smiles.

 

Mission accomplished.

 

---

 

16.5

“Daddy?”

 

“I’m coming!” Minho calls back, promptly staring at the sign beside him just for the excuse of not having to stare down the narrow trail they need to hike back down. “Just a sec.”

 

Neither his husband nor his daughter respond to that, so Minho figures that he needs to get a grip and head down this mountain to catch up with them again. Good Lord.

 

“There you are!” Heejin bursts once he rounds that final corner, practically skipping up to him and linking their arms together. “I thought we lost you to the forest sprites there for a minute. Hold onto me, ‘kay? We can’t lose you in Hawaii of all places.”

 

“Okay,” Minho chuckles, playing along, “where would you find it acceptable to lose me, may I ask?”

 

“In your car, maybe,” Hyunjin teases when they reach him and continue heading back down together. “Certainly not my studio. There’s no good outcome to that one.”

 

It’s easier to cope with the acrophobia when Hyunjin’s chatter and Heejin’s arm help to distract him from the steep decline beside the trail they’re hiking, but it’s admittedly harder to get back down and have to see how far they still have to go until they reach the ground again, as compared to when they climbed the mountain and Minho could kind of ignore the height since it wasn’t as unyieldingly in his vision.

 

“You’re holding me, right?” he asks Heejin, waving his arm until she tightens the grip and reaches over to hold his elbow with her free arm. “Who’s gonna help the medic if the medic gets injured?”

 

“Not me,” she giggles, making Hyunjin laugh on Minho’s other side as well. “‘Suppose that means I do have to hold onto you, dad.”

 

“I think it does,” he agrees, noticing the soft tan on her skin that’s just a shade lighter than his own. “If you’re not gonna carry me back to the hotel or stitch me up, the least you can do is keep me steady, right?”

 

“Mmmhm,” she promises, tightening her hold again. “We can’t have that. Who’s gonna teach me how to drive if you’re casted for months?”

 

“Uhm,” Hyunjin scoffs loudly on Minho’s other side, “gee, I don’t know, imagine having two parents, huh? Wild.”

 

Both Minho and Heejin laugh at that, but Minho hopes that his husband means it jokingly as well. He’s honestly not sure. Even though Minho taught him how to drive once upon a time, that was twenty years ago and they’ve owned multiple cars since then out of which Hyunjin has driven all of them regularly. He’s a good, solid driver. The initial nerves can’t possibly have stayed, right? He must know that he’d be a great teacher too?

 

“I think we should co-teach you,” Minho chimes in. “One of us in the passenger seat and one in the backseat. At all times. That wouldn’t be stressful to you at all, right, Heejinnie?”

 

“Oh, God,” she groans beside him, but Hyunjin laughs quietly on Minho’s left. “One is enough, thank you. And we should definitely alternate because otherwise one of us is gonna cut all ties with the other one.”

 

Minho can’t help but snicker. They’re similar in their stubbornness like that; always have been.

 

“Probably,” he agrees. “You can ask your dad how teaching him went.”

 

“I divorced you three times,” Hyunjin replies without missing a beat. “During the first hour, that is.”

 

Immediately, their daughter bursts into loud laughter - especially when Minho nods in her direction to confirm it -  and it doesn’t really let go of her until they’re all the way down and hailing a cab back to their hotel. He doesn’t say much else, but it’s largely because he’s so relieved to have her back. This funny, sweet, familiar girl that he loves so badly who pretty much went missing for a solid pair of months has finally returned to them, and he’s just as relieved as he is grateful. Hyunjin’s suggestion to take her to Hawaii, which is somewhere she’s always wanted to go, came at just the right time for her eyes to go wide and her mind to start to forget all of that heartache she carried for so long.

 

Now, Minho thinks that this version of her might be his favorite one yet.

 

---

 

17

“Daddy?”

 

“Yeah, lovey?”

 

“Oh, great,” Heejin blurts, approaching him in the living room. “You’re in a good mood.”

 

“That’s suspicious,” Minho teases her, raising his eyebrow as she sits down beside him on the couch and pulls a pillow to her lap immediately. She avoids his eyes the entire time. “What are you up to, Lee Heejin? Or rather, what did you do?”

 

“Nothing!” she exclaims, but Minho can tell that it’s a lie.

 

He twists until he’s facing her, pulling his legs up off the floor and resting his head in his palm so he can wait her out. It seems like she’s been waiting for the right moment to ask something of him then, doesn’t it? Or to tell him something she doesn’t think he’ll like?

 

“What do you want to do, then?” he rephrases his question. “What are you about to ask me? If you’re telling me that you want a tattoo, the answer is no. They have age limits for a reason.”

 

“It’s not a tattoo,” Heejin denies quickly, which definitely tells Minho that she’s about to ask for something else. “It’s just… you know. There’s a… party. This girl in my class is throwing it as a ‘back to school’-kind of thing. And I really wanna go. Can I please go?”

 

Minho pauses. That’s not as bad as a tattoo, but… She’s still underage. There will absolutely be alcohol at this party. Maybe other stuff too. Most of his instincts are screaming at him to tell her ‘no’ and put an end to it here and now, but not… not all of them, Minho must admit. The majority, but not every single one. He knows that saying ‘no’ might mean that she doesn’t ask him next time, and he really doesn’t want that.

 

“Dad,” she says quietly, worrying her lower lip at his lack of reply, “what do you need from me in order to say ‘yes’?”

A sigh leaves him before the smile tugs at his lips. Oh, she’s too good. That’s such a clever question, he can’t even be upset with her for it. How can she convince him to let her go? What does she have to do to get his permission?

 

Besides, she did come to him in the first place. That must mean that she’s at least hopeful to get a ‘yes’, and willing to compromise for it. And Minho is just a parent. He loves her so goddamn much.

 

He sighs again.

 

“Updates, first of all,” he says as sternly as he can, because that’s definitely hope in her eyes now but he needs Heejin to listen. “The location, getting there, any changes of location. A phone number to someone else who’s going. Screenshots of your battery.”

 

“Okay,” she nods, unable to completely stop her eagerness from coming through. “Yes, I can do that. Are you coming to pick me up?”

 

Minho snorts.

 

“Hell yeah, I’m coming to pick you up.” She laughs, squeezing the pillow in her lap. “Call me when you wanna go home, and do it before 2AM. I am not sleeping or staying put to wait for you if you haven’t called me before 2AM. Hyunjinnie probably isn’t either, but I’m not speaking for him right now.”

 

Heejin agrees without any arguments.

 

“Please don’t drink too much,” Minho says carefully, because he doesn’t want to ask her not to drink anything since she probably will and then she’ll either end up lying or thinking she disappointed him, both of which are bad options in his opinion, “and always alternate with water. Absolutely do not leave your drink unattended. Get a new one. Never accept one from someone else.”

 

“I promise,” she replies, sobered up by his no-nonsense tone. “Dad, I promise, I won’t.”

 

“Call me,” he finally insists, as serious as can be while he looks at her. “Call me, Lee Heejin. Anytime, wherever you are. I’ll always come get you. The hour is never too late, you’ll never be too out of it, it’ll never be too embarrassing. I’m on your side. Always. The last thing I want is for you to feel like ‘oh, my parents are gonna kill me’. Your parents will show up and help you and be there and only want honesty in return. So no matter what happens, you call me, sunflower. I will pick up and I will come.”

 

Words can’t describe how genuinely Minho feels all that he’s telling her, but he prays that Heejin receives it that way as well. That she understands how much he trusts her for the sole reason that he wants her to be happy and to trust him in return; that she asked him for something and he wants to give it to her because he’s not her parent to hold her back from experiencing things. But he is her parent to keep her safe, to be responsible for what happens to her, and the line between overprotective to keep her close by and naive enough to let her into the world is so much thinner right now than it usually is.

 

“I love you,” Heejin mumbles as she puts the pillow aside and hugs him tightly, easily folding into his answering arms around her back and cheek against her hair. “Thank you. I promise to do all of it. I want you to trust me too. I’ll keep you posted, I promise.”

 

“Oh, you better,” Minho murmurs with a kiss to some glossy strands, “because I’ll simply lock you up otherwise.”

 

“Daddy!” she bursts, falling into familiar giggles while he holds her close.

 

“Don’t worry,” he grins. “I’m mostly kidding.”

 

She scoffs teasingly. “Sure.”

 

She seems intent on staying there for a little bit, so Minho lets himself enjoy it. Cuddling is something she’s mostly grown out of - at least compared to when she was younger - but he supposes every kid does. In some sense, at least. But it also means that every hug Heejin initiates takes him by pleasant surprise, and he cherishes them a lot. Every chance to hold his daughter is a welcome one.

 

“I love you too, Heejinnie,” he tells her, running his fingers slowly up and down her back. “You don’t know how much we love you. Of course I’ll come. Even if you were in Busan, I’d come. You’re my kid. That’s for life.”

 

“You know,” she drawls somewhere into his shoulder, “there’s this festival in Busan in Octob--”

 

“Nice try.”

 

Laughing, she wiggles a little before hugging him tighter.

 

“Thanks, dad,” she mumbles one more time.

 

“Don’t make me regret it, please.”

 

“I won’t,” Heejin promises. “I’ll let you know everything. You’re so observant and you know how daddy’s such a gossip, too. Nothing can escape either of you. Might as well be truthful from the start.”

 

“Perfect,” Minho smiles. “Maybe I’ll look forward to it, then.”

 

(Little over a week later, Heejin calls him about half an hour past midnight and begs him to pick her up so she can go home and sleep. She’s not made for this, she declares in the car while Minho laughs, but when she tries to explain the dance moves one random kid tried to pull she giggles so hard the tears run down her cheeks almost the entire way home, and that’s how Minho finds out that his daughter is a giggly drunk. In the backseat, Jisoo sighs at her best friend before giving Minho a proper description and proceeding to ask angelically if he might perhaps have some food for them to heat up real quick, so he tells her to call Hyunjin who’s waiting for them. Overall, Minho decides that it’s a pretty good night, and Heejin agrees when she drags Jisoo out of bed for breakfast the next morning. That settles it, really.)

 

---

 

17.5

“Daddy?”

 

Minho freezes immediately. He knows that tone. He’s fully aware of what his daughter sounds like when she’s happy, when she’s confused, when she’s upset.

 

He also knows what she sounds like when she’s scared.

 

“Hi, angel,” he says, turning around and leaving his meal prep in favor of leaning against the counter as she slowly comes up to him, cardigan tightly wrapped around her frame. “What’s up, hmm?”

 

“Daddy, there’s--”

 

She cuts herself off and Minho barely sees the tears that trickle down her cheeks before she’s burying her face in his chest and he’s already holding her tightly. Minho is unsure whether it’s his heart or her pulse beating away that quickly.

 

“There’s what, Heejinnie?” he tries, quiet and soft, because he doesn’t yet know how worried he should be. “Talk to me.”

 

“There’s something,” she replies, just as quietly but definitely choked up as she clings to him. “I don’t know. I was just doing my routine after showering when I… when I found it.”

 

“When you found what?” Minho asks, bracing himself. It could be a tick. It could be a bruise. It could be a protruding bone. It could be--

 

“There’s a lump,” she whimpers, and Minho’s heart drops. “Daddy, there’s… There’s some kind of lump. Between my armpit and my… And my chest.”

 

Minho draws the steadiest breath he can manage before replying. His teenage daughter found a lump on her chest that isn’t supposed to be there. Now he has to go from here.

 

“Okay,” he says, willing himself into work mode rather than dad mode. Dad Minho is pretty freaked out, truth be told. Vet Minho is not. “Is it just the one?”

 

“I don’t know,” she whispers, writhing for an uncomfortable second. “I think so, but I’m not sure.”

 

“Can you check for more?” he asks, as gently as possible, because Minho needs to know what they’re dealing with. On the other hand, considering her reaction--

 

Heejin shakes her head. Then she cries harder, for real, and Minho slips back into dad mode. He hasn’t seen her like this many times and it really is awful to witness. He needs to find some middle ground in order to deal with this in a way that she’ll approve of as well, because dad mode will keep him too distracted to focus and work mode will keep him too focused and could potentially scare her even more. That would mean it’s serious.

 

“I can’t,” she admits, trembling in Minho’s arms. “I don’t want to. What if there’s more? What if it’s… what if it’s…?”

 

“We don’t know that, angel,” he responds, even though Heejin didn’t actually say it. She doesn’t have to. The non-existent fear of 17-year-old Heejin having breast cancer is suddenly very, very real. Even though Minho knows how unlikely it should be. “Do you want to check later? Do you want me to check instead? Do you want to see a doctor who can do it?”

 

“Can you do it?” Heejin echoes, slumping a little in the embrace. Was she waiting for him to offer? “I want to get it over with, but I… I want to know. But I’m scared. I don’t know, I--”

 

“Of course I’ll do it,” Minho tells her, squeezing her for a second. “Heejinnie, of course. Whatever you want. Whatever feels best. It’s your body, angel. You tell me.”

 

“I want you to do it,” his girl repeats, possibly out of tears for the time being. “Please.”

 

“Okay,” Minho settles, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “Okay, lovey. We’ll figure it out. It’ll be okay. I promise. You’re gonna be fine, whatever it is.”

 

“I’m really scared,” she whispers, voice breaking on another sob, and then she’s crying into Minho’s shoulder again while he tugs her closer.

 

“I know, babygirl,” he murmurs, cradling her against him as if he could absorb all of her hardships like that. “I’m so proud of you for coming to me. We’re gonna fix this. We can get it over with right now if that’s what you want. You can scroll away on your phone and we can put music on and I’ll be as quick and thorough as possible, okay? Do you wanna do that?”

 

She nods.

 

Minho presses his lips to her damp hair one more time before asking if she wants to lay down in her bed, or maybe in theirs, but she picks her own. Then he gently distangles her from his body and pulls his hoodie off to hand it to her, leaving him in the tee he wore beneath.

 

“Change into this, okay? I’m gonna wash these vegetables off my hands before anything else.”

 

Heejin smiles weakly while nodding, and then she visibly steels herself before heading in the direction of her room. Minho sort of feels like doing the same.

 

Washing his hands is a familiar process considering Minho does it a hundred times a week, but his mind is elsewhere while he rubs the soap in. What if she’s actually sick? What the hell is he supposed to do then?

 

Logically, Minho knows that they’ll figure that out. Somehow. He knows that breast cancer isn’t always fatal, that there’s more than one kind of treatment, and he also knows that it usually hits around age forty, not seventeen. ‘Usually’ doesn’t mean ‘always’, though. Things happen. He knows that too. Parents aren’t usually viciously separated from their kids either, but Heejin’s biological parents were gone within the blink of an eye and that’s why she’s with them in the first place.

 

There’s a looming pit inside his stomach as he dries off and makes his way to her room, peeking through the open door to find Heejin sprawled on her back over her covers, both arms above her face as he holds her phone exactly like Minho suggested. She’s wearing his hoodie and the cardigan and tank top from earlier are thrown over her desk chair, and she’s so dear to him that Minho’s heart aches a little. She reminds him of Hyunjin too; the way she trusts him blindingly and proceeds to mess up every space she inhabits. Familiar, beloved habits. She’s so important to him. To them. He can’t fully process how important she is.

 

He knocks once before entering, but she doesn’t look up. The beeping sound of her bluetooth speaker connecting to her phone doesn’t faze her either, as Minho starts it before making his way over to her bedside. He kneels down first, reaching for her, and that’s when he spots the silent tears falling sideways down her face.

 

His fingertips are stained wet as he caresses her cheek, and this time, she leans into it. It’s very calm and undramatic - unlike her - and Minho leaves the moment be. He’s sort of collecting himself; she must be as well.

 

“Do you want me to tell you what I’m doing or what I notice or would you rather know after?”

 

“During,” she replies softly, shaking her head in regard to the latter option. “Tell me. Please.”

 

“Of course,” he promises, calmly explaining his procedure the way he’s done so many times before, and somehow, never really like this. “I’m only gonna use my hands. No cold instruments or even tweezers. No gross gel or anything.”

 

She nods, letting him know that she’s listening even if she can’t quite find the words.

 

“I’m gonna bunch this hoodie up with my hands until it’s below your chin,” he continues, not wanting her to see anything unnecessarily considering her reluctance earlier. “Then I’ll start with one armpit, then your chest, then the other armpit. How does that sound?”

 

“Okay,” she says quietly, still resting into his palm. “It sounds like you’ve done this before.”

 

“Never to any daughters of mine,” he replies, trying to keep it light, and not sure if she succeeds considering Heejin laughs wetly before another few tears meet his skin. “All sorts of mammals have lumps of different kinds though. Usually they’re not dangerous in the slightest. Most I’ve removed because they’re annoying or in the way, not because the lump itself is dangerous.”

 

“Do lots of mammals get breast cancer?”

 

Minho pauses, even though he already knows that he’s not going to lie to her. “Lots of them run the risk of it, yes. Both genders. Mostly dogs and cats are actually affected, though.”

 

She doesn’t reply to that, apart from nodding again. Minho isn’t sure if that helps or not, or if she wants to ask more questions, and he’s not entirely certain how large is the difference between humans and animals in this particular instant. He doesn’t want to make it seem like he’s confident about his skills when he’s only moderately so in this situation, but he also reminds himself that he is well-versed in the symptoms and diagnostics and treatment, even if he doesn’t know the exact prevalence or typical outcome for humans.

 

Depending on what the lump she found looks like, and if there’s any others, Minho is already fairly sure that he’ll want her to see a doctor about this, but he figures he’ll put off that conversation for another couple of minutes.

 

“Okay?” he asks again. “Tell me if you change your mind, angel. Promise.”

 

“I promise,” Heejin replies, blinking her sticky lashes apart to look back at him. “I’m just scared. And I don’t want it to hurt.”

 

“It won’t hurt,” Minho tells her, moving his thumb across her cheekbone. “I’m going to use my index and middle finger to press lightly, like this, and then move them around to make sure I don’t miss anything. That’s it. It’s not supposed to hurt, and if it does, you tell me immediately. I’m not going to hurt you, Heejinnie.”

 

“I know,” she says, blinking back another round of tears, and Minho can’t stop himself from moving in to close his arms around her again, holding her tightly and inhaling her sweetly scented shampoo.

 

“My brave girl,” he murmurs, smiling a little at the small sound of protest that she’s definitely picked up from Hyunjin. “I love you so much. We’re gonna get this over with, okay? Make sure you never have to worry about this again.”

 

She inhales deeply, somewhere inside Minho’s collar, and then exhales before nodding. The loose grip on his shoulders comes off completely as he releases her and backs up, locating her desk chair before pulling it up to her bedside so he can both see and reach properly. The lamp on her nightstand should be bright enough, since Minho thinks it’s mostly about what he will potentially be able to feel either way.

 

“Should I go find some gloves?” he asks right after sitting down, suddenly remembering that he often wears those. “I think we might have some in the bathr--”

 

“No, leave it,” Heejin decides, waving him off. “I don’t care about that. Can we just… do it?”

 

“Yes,” Minho replies, resting his hand over her stomach instead. She tenses up for a second, but not much more.

 

Minho watches her face carefully while he takes the fabric of his hoodie into his hands, lifting slowly until he can see the waistband of her leggings and then her belly button only just above that. Her eyebrows are furrowed and she’s a little tense, but she doesn’t tell him to stop so Minho doesn’t. The speakers on her shelf start playing a melody Minho sort of recognizes from the radio in his office, but can’t identify any further.

 

“Can you lift your arms a bit higher, angel?” he suggests when he spots the shape of her ribcage. “And your back, just a little, so I can lift all the way up?”

 

Wordlessly, she moves according to his instructions, still staring at her phone, so Minho proceeds as he’d explained to her and uncovers the rest of her torso while his hoodie gathers in a heap on top of her collarbones. Heejin’s body moves unsteadily as she sucks a breath in, but she releases it again when Minho puts his hand back on her stomach in a silent reminder to breathe all the way down there.

 

“This is the one you found?” he asks, sliding into that calm, clinical mindset he’s so familiar with as his eyes search the armpit closest to him, and then his hand follows. “On the edge, here?”

 

“Yeah,” Heejin confirms, darting her eyes his way for a second. “I almost didn’t notice at first, but the deodorant caught it. It didn’t hurt, but… It was hard not to notice.”

 

“Makes sense,” Minho hums, tracing the bump with his fingertips.

 

It’s about the same size as just one of his fingertips, and the same color as the rest of her. It’s kind of firm, but her face is the same when he pokes and prods at it so it must not hurt, considering how she’s usually very vocal when things do hurt.

 

The bump isn’t actually in her armpit, though. That’s mostly what Minho finds himself hung up on. It’s hovering in the space between armpit and chest, and he can barely touch it without the rest of his hand falling against the soft rise of her chest. That worries him more than if the bump had been in the center of her armpit. This increases the risk of potential danger slightly, he’s pretty sure about that.

 

“Well, that’s the only one over here,” he tells Heejin, who relaxes a bit more. “I’m gonna move on to your chest and do the same thing there, okay? Probably switch to the other side of the bed halfway. How are you doing?”

 

“I’m okay,” Heejin says, turning her eyes towards him again. She’s not crying anymore, thankfully. Selfishly, Minho finds this to be hard enough anyway. “You were right, it doesn’t hurt. I’m still nervous though.”

 

“Me too, pumpkin,” Minho says, which makes her smile just like he’d hoped. “I don’t want you to hurt either. Because of me or any other reason.”

 

“I know that,” she replies softly, blinking away a new set of tears while laughing at herself. “I know I’m being stupid and exaggerating. Of course I should see a doctor. Of course you’re not making it hurt. And still, I can’t stop crying. Like a baby.”

 

“It’s okay to cry,” he assures her, wiping her cheeks and smiling back in comfort. “Don’t pretend with me, little sunflower. You like being pampered just as much as your dad does.”

 

A bubbling laugh leaves her at that, memories of wanting strawberries and blankets and daddy daddy daddy at the front of both their minds. She’s demanding and blunt and headstrong, and Minho loves that about her. He loves that he can read her so easily, that she’s honest since she can’t hide anything either way, and that she trusts them with her issues and dilemmas and hardships. She’s never really been afraid to call for them to help, and Minho is grateful. Never ever would he prefer not knowing what bothers her. How is he supposed to help then?

 

“Let’s get this over with, hmm?” he murmurs, and she nods, smiling through her tears. “You’ve got your phone and your music, why don’t you let me worry about the rest?”

 

“Okay,” she agrees quietly, leaning back and holding her phone above her head after another breath.

 

Minho takes a breath of his own before turning his focus back on, and moving on to this side of her chest. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wonders when he last saw her entirely topless and figures it must have been two or three years ago; at least counting her front. She’s not particularly shy when it comes to asking for massages or getting rid of tan lines on her back, but that’s different, isn’t it?

 

It is different, Minho knows, because he’s currently checking for signs of breast cancer in his daughter who is too scared to check herself. Of course this is different. From everything he’s ever done, in school and at work and at home. He’s scared, too. He’s nervous. But he doesn’t want those things to make anything worse for Heejin, so he keeps them to himself for now. He also still has to explain all of this to his husband later tonight, and Minho really needs to take one thing at a time.

 

It’s his first time checking for lumps in his daughter’s chest, but not the first time period. He knows that open wounds and fluids that aren’t supposed to be there are symptoms to look out for as well, and Heejin has neither. That’s definitely a good thing. She stays still and breathes evenly when Minho’s fingers push and press as carefully as possible while still making sure there’s nothing hiding beneath the light skin, and he feels himself exhaling in relief when he deems himself finished because there’s nothing there.

 

“I’m gonna use my palm and press a little harder just to make sure,” he tells her, “because there is absolutely nothing wrong so far. Tell me if it hurts.”

 

“Okay,” Heejin replies, visibly relaxing further at the news. “Nothing hurt until now though. Go ahead.”

 

Minho nods, watching closely as he presses his palm flat only to find no lumps or bumps or anything that isn’t muscle, fat, or bone. Not taking any chances, he tries every angle he can think of, wanting to do this properly now that he’s actually doing it, and only sits back with a satisfied hum when he decides that there really isn’t anything abnormal to be found.

 

“Nothing,” he declares, pulling the hoodie down to her middle before removing some hair from her forehead and making eye contact again. “There’s nothing, love. Nothing remotely close to the bump you found and nothing else either.”

 

She lowers her arms, clearly relieved as she nods and lets the words sink in. There’s less shine to her eyes which Minho considers a good thing, and hopes that she’s not as scared anymore. It’s totally valid if she is, obviously, but if he could choose he wouldn’t want her to feel like in the kitchen earlier.

 

“I wanna check the other side too, just to be sure, okay?”

 

“Please,” Heejin says, pulling her arms back up. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

 

“My smart girl,” Minho teases, grinning as she makes a face before smiling.

 

He gets to his feet and takes the chair with him as he rounds the foot end of her bed, sitting back down on her other side and returning his hand to her stomach for a moment. Overall, Heejin seems calmer, but Minho feels the same way. She doesn’t seem to be in pain and she doesn’t seem more uncomfortable than necessary, and both of those things help significantly in easing Minho’s mind.

 

“Entering the second act,” he says in advance, fingering the hem of his hoodie, and Heejin squirms due to the ticklish sensation but also nods before turning her eyes towards her phone again.

 

This time, Minho works a little quicker. He starts off by pressing his two fingers gently down, down, making sure there are no lumps or bumps escaping his touch. He scans for wounds or fluids at the same time - finding neither - and works his way around until he’s satisfied enough that her chest is perfectly normal. He relays this before mentioning his palm again, and Heejin only nods at him to go on.

 

Then she freezes, and Minho has just about removed his hand when she whimpers quietly and makes a face. It sort of feels like his heart stops inside his chest for a moment, but he doesn’t dare touch her again until she explains what caused the abrupt reaction.

 

“What happened?” he can’t help asking, searching her face. No tears. That’s good. “Did that hurt? Where?”

 

“Low,” she says, still making that face but describing it while Minho’s light fingertips return to her skin, “no, lower, almost on my ribs. Press a little. Yeah, there. That hurts.”

 

“What sort of pain is it?” Minho checks, only using the most delicate pressure while he checks extra carefully for bumps or other abnormalities. “Does it sting? Burn? Is it constant or comes and goes? Scale from 1 to 10, how bad is it?”

 

“You have to press harder,” Heejin tells him, reaching for his wrist to demonstrate. Minho tries to mimic the action, and that has her nose scrunching up all over again. “It’s not awful. Maybe three or four. Probably more if you used more force though.”

 

“And what does it feel like?”

 

“It’s constant,” she explains further. “It stings. It feels like… Sort of like you’re pressing on a bruise. Or like a super bad headache.”

 

Minho hides his smile. ‘Or, like, a super bad headache’.

 

“Okay,” he replies, leaving it be for now. “It’s tender then, but there’s really no bump or anything else down there. It doesn’t feel any different. Tenderness can also be caused by a bunch of things, most of which are harmless. Menstrual cycles for example.”

 

“Gross.”

 

He does laugh at that, reaching for the blanket by her feet to throw on top of her while she shrieks in surprise. For safety reasons, he backs up as she struggles to get her head out from beneath the fabric.

 

“Just one more spot and then we’re all set,” he tells his daughter once she reappears, hair a slightly frizzier mess than before. “Can you rest your arm above your head? Yeah, great.”

 

It doesn’t take him very long to realize that there’s actually a second lump, despite not finding any up until this moment. He’s not sure whether Heejin is looking and can read it on his face or not, but Minho does pause when he spots the swollen circle right in the middle of her armpit. It looks exactly the same, no irritation or fluid, and about the same size as well. If it were half its size and red, he’d call it a pimple, but he can’t. This is something else, and he’s not entirely sure what two of these things - and the added tenderness - really means.

 

“Dad,” Heejin calls his attention. “Are you staring at my sideboob?”

 

He’s so surprised by the question that he ends up laughing all over again, sensing a slightly eased tension in his body. It’s a little funny, and she’s ridiculous.

 

“Yeah, I’m trying to figure out which swimsuit to get you for your birthday. What would be flattering but not too inappropriate.”

 

“Daddy’s good at that,” she remarks, to which Minho has to agree.

 

Hyunjin does have an eye for those things; the ‘things’ being fashion and body types and measurements. He rarely needs to try anything on, and it sort of extends to when he gets stuff for either of them. It’s very practical.

 

“Aren’t you the luckiest girl in the world, hmm? Benefitting from both of your gay dads?”

 

“Definitely,” Heejin laughs good-naturedly. “Pretty sure both of you keep better tabs on my body than I do. You for health reasons and daddy for styling reasons.”

 

“Well, someone has to,” Minho plays along, running a fingertip down her side just to tickle her. She holds onto the blanket while she wriggles around, giggling. “You should tell us to stop if we’re being annoying, though.”

 

“I usually do, don’t I?”

 

Minho hums. Yeah, he supposes she does.

 

“Can I take my arm down now? My circulation isn’t good enough for this.”

 

“Sure,” he allows, sobering up a little. “You should know that there’s one more bump there, same as the first one. They don’t look irritated or infected or inflamed in any way, but since there’s two of them and some potential tenderness, I think we should have it checked out by a professional.”

 

“Okay,” Heejin says quietly, nodding twice as the words settle around them. Minho thinks there’s some cause for worry, and now she knows that. They can’t pretend otherwise. “Can you push for an appointment as soon as possible?”

 

“Count on it,” Minho tells her, mentally scanning their best options. “I’m also going to tell your dad about it later, unless you want to do it instead?”

 

Predictably, Heejin shakes her head. “No, you do it. I want him to know, but…”

 

“Okay,” Minho says, leaving it at that. “Do you want one or both of us to join you for the doctor’s appointment? Since you’re still underage, I’m not sure you can go all by yourself.”

 

“Just you,” she replies as her eyes flicker nervously between Minho’s. “Is that… Is that okay?”

 

“Yeah, angel, that’s okay,” Minho promises, reaching for her hand. “Hyunjinnie will understand. He’ll be worried just like me, but if that’s what you want, he’ll respect it. Whatever’s up it’s weird and new and scary. Whatever makes you most comfortable.”

 

She heaves a frustrated sigh, holding tighter to Minho’s much thicker fingers.

 

“I just don’t want him to see all of that,” she explains, “or hear about it. I don’t want to show him. I want him to know what’s going on, it’s not that, it’s just… I don’t know.”

 

“That’s okay, Heejinnie,” Minho repeats. “That’s okay. I’ll make the appointment and be right there with you. I’ll explain it to your dad. It’ll be fine. This might very well have been the worst part.”

 

“You think so?”

 

“When have I ever lied to you, babygirl?”

 

Her mouth closes rather than argue Minho’s very valid point, and before he knows it, she’s got both arms raised in a very similar position to when she used to beg him to lift her up into his arms. The last time that happened was probably ten years ago, but maybe that’s why the action warms his own chest from the inside now.

 

It’s hard to reach properly from the chair he’s in, so he motions for her to scoot over before climbing onto her queen-sized bed and pulling her against him until Minho is half on his side, half beneath her. The skin of Heejin’s back is warm beneath his hand and he draws mindless patterns with his fingers as she rests on his shoulder, exhaling warm air into his neck. It tickles a little, but nothing he can’t handle. Hyunjin sleeps half on top of Minho every other night, so needless to say, he’s used to it.

 

“Thanks, dad,” she mumbles, hiding in the blanket and Minho’s hoodie and Minho’s chest. “I love you. Thank you.”

 

“You don’t have to thank me for this,” he breathes against her forehead, kissing it lightly and pulling the hoodie all the way down her body as her temperature drops after all the exposure. “Or anything. I appreciate it, sure, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Lee Heejin. I’ll check every weird thing you find until you’re sixty and my eyesight’s too bad.”

 

“Deal,” she whispers, smiling against him.

 

*

 

No sooner than the next day, they check it out. Minho calls in sick, calls Heejin in sick, and Hyunjin does the same over the breakfast table which neither of them are very keen on touching. Obviously, Hyunjin is upset over the situation. Even more obviously, he’s not upset with his daughter.

 

“Call me the second you’re in the car,” he makes Minho promise while Heejin brushes her teeth, and Minho promises the same thing for the fifth time. “I’m so serious, Lee Minho, I will divorce you if you make me wait one minute longer than absolutely necessary.”

 

“And we can’t have that,” Minho agrees, tangling their fingers together over the tablecloth.

 

Hyunjin looks absolutely sick with worry, which partially is due to him barely sleeping last night, but it’s hard to bear either way. Minho feels like he’s carrying all of their worries on his own shoulders. He cares so much that he doesn’t know how not to.

 

“I’m ready,” Heejin declares from the doorway a minute later, fiddling with her bangs. Minho can’t help but notice that she’s wearing really high-waisted jeans and a sort of cropped sweater, clearly dressed for this particular occasion. “Can we go? I’d rather get called in early.”

 

“Agreed,” Minho says, letting his husband follow him into the hallway before crossing his arms petulantly while he watches them put their shoes on.

 

“Bye, dad,” Heejin says, hand on the doorknob.

 

Then she turns and spots the look on said dad’s face, and immediately drops her hand in favor of walking over to Hyunjin and throwing her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug. Minho can only hope that she doesn’t feel bad or guilty or like she owes it to Hyunjin - or Minho, for that matter - to invite him along. He really hopes that’s not the case. The line between supportive and pressuring is a thin one, he often finds. The one between present and overbearing the same.

 

“I’ll be okay,” he can hear her say, and then Hyunjin snorts. Minho suppresses his laughter.

 

“I know that,” he protests. “I’m worried about me! My nerves can’t handle this. Having a kid has made me age five years every five months. This wasn’t in the job description.”

 

“I’m funky like that,” Heejin tells him, which makes all of them laugh. Hyunjin pulls her back in to kiss her forehead, her cheek, her other cheek, and then he all but pushes her into Minho instead.

 

“We’ll call from the car,” Minho assures before Hyunjin can demand another promise. “You should clean the bathroom if you’re super restless. The shower drain’s clogged again.”

 

Hyunjin’s tongue is still sticking out when Minho closes the door behind them, following his giggling daughter down to the garage. Today is probably not the day to offer her a driving lesson, so he refrains from that and watches her take the passenger seat before they’re on their way. The clinic is not the first one Minho called - because they couldn’t receive them until next week - but it is the second one, and while the first one is simply closer to their apartment, he knows that Chan and Felix have frequented this one over the years.

 

The closer they get, the quieter is his daughter. Minho doesn’t try to lure anything out of her because he doesn’t see the point, and also because he’s feeling a bit similar himself. He wants to get this over with, yes, but he’s scared, too. Maybe not as much as Heejin is, but he’s not convinced. He genuinely can’t picture anything more terrifying than losing her for whichever reason. It’s the worst, worst, worst thing he can imagine. Hyunjin is definitely the closest thing, but they’re the same age and Hyunjin has lived a good life no matter what happens next.

 

Heejin is seventeen. She’s a child, technically. She’s mature and grown and sort of funny when she wants to be, but that’s his kid. Parents don’t outlive their children. That’s not how it works. Minho physically cannot fathom how it could work that way.

 

Of course, even if this is cancerous in some way, that doesn’t mean certain death. Minho knows that. He knows a lot of things, but it’s exceptionally difficult to remember and also believe it all when they’re in direct correlation to his daughter. These aren’t statistics or numbers or chances or risks; this is Heejin. Minho gets the feeling that his entire life is hanging in balance. Just like hers.

 

In the end it doesn’t matter that they’re thirty minutes early, because they need to sit that time out in the waiting room rather than at home. Heejin fiddles with her bracelets and her hair, and Minho with his wedding ring. The engagement one is much harder to twist, seeing how it’s below his wedding band, but it’s a habit he’s not very good at breaking. Lack of practice, most likely. Minho hardly ever gets nervous to this extent.

 

A female doctor appears and calls Heejin’s name about two minutes later than their appointed time, which is fine; Minho knows that things happen in this business. Both of them stand up and it occurs to Minho that he doesn’t actually know if Heejin wants him in the room or not, but the way she turns around to nudge him along when he doesn’t naturally follow is a clear enough sign to get him moving again.

 

The doctor introduces herself briefly and then starts off with the basics; name, age, occupation, reason why they’re there today. Heejin explains how she noticed the lump, just like she did to Minho yesterday, but when the doctor asks if she found any others, Heejin falls silent and looks his way for the first time. Minho can feel his eyebrows raise in silent question, and she shakes her head minutely. It’s hard to explain then, same as Hyunjin?

 

“After you found that one, you came and told me about it, didn’t you, baby?”

 

“Yeah,” she confirms, nodding slightly before looking nervously in the direction of the doctor, who turns a bit in Minho’s direction for the first time. “Yeah, I didn’t know what it was and I got really freaked out because… Well, because it could be dangerous, right? It could be cancerous?”

 

“It’s possible, yes,” the doctor confirms, nodding encouragingly. “So you discovered something abnormal that you didn’t recognize and then told your dad about it?”

 

Heejin nods.

 

“Well, that’s good,” the doctor continues, smiling a little. “That’s very observant of you, Heejin-ssi. And it’s a really good thing that you told someone too. It’s tempting to pretend it doesn’t exist, isn’t it? To ignore it and hope it goes away?”

 

More nods. Minho realizes that he barely even considered that option before. She really could have just ignored it and they would never know. Maybe it wouldn’t matter, or maybe they’d find out when it was too late.

 

A chill moves down his spine.

 

“So what did your dad say?” the doctor continues, eyes flickering between them.

 

“He asked me to check for more,” Heejin relays while Minho nods in confirmation, watching her tell the story. “But then I… But I didn’t want to. I was too scared. I was really scared. So he offered to come here, or that I check later, but I didn’t wanna wait that long and not know, so I… So I asked dad to check instead. And he did.”

 

“Okay,” the doctor says a moment later, watching Minho a bit closer. He clears his throat.

 

“I’m a veterinarian,” he explains, watching the relevant piece of information explain the situation slightly better to this stranger. “Not a doctor, obviously, but I’ve seen my fair share of abnormal bumps and lumps. And diagnosed cancer. Too many times.”

 

The doctor nods, scribbling this down for a second before looking back at him with sort of new eyes. There’s more approval than suspicion this time, which he’s grateful for.

 

“Close enough,” she decides, and Minho is inclined to agree. “So what else did you find, hmm?”

 

“One more bump, almost identical,” he explains, watching Heejin nod along. She ended up checking in the mirror later, relieved when Minho’s assessment seemed to coincide with her own. “You mentioned some tenderness as well, low left side. Three or four on the scale, a constant sting. Like pressing on a bruise?”

 

“Yeah, exactly.”

 

The doctor notes this down as well, taking another moment before returning their gazes.

 

“Well, first of all, I’m glad you came here,” she says, and Minho believes her. “Finding weird stuff on your body is usually cause for worry, and asking your medically experienced dad to check it out is a luxury not everyone has. Would it be okay if I double-checked, just to make sure that there’s nothing else to be found? I also have an ultrasound that might help us figure out if that tenderness has any specific origins, if you’d like that.”

 

Heejin immediately looks his way, but Minho only smiles patiently back at her. That’s not his call. The woman didn’t direct the question to him, and Minho doesn’t intend to answer it, because it’s up to Heejin to decide what she wants done to her body.

 

“Okay,” she decides, still looking at Minho as if to make sure it was the right answer. He tries his best to keep his face neutral, even though he’s really glad she’s agreeing to it. “Yeah, that’s okay. I wanna know what it is. If there’s anything to be done about it.”

 

“Brilliant,” the doctor responds. “Would you like your dad to stay or wait outside?”

 

This time, Heejin takes longer both to respond and to look at him again, so Minho makes it easy and decides for her.

 

“I’ll wait outside, yeah?” he says, leaning in to kiss her hair briefly as he gathers his things. “I’ll be right outside, just call for me if you need me.”

 

“Thanks,” she says quietly, so Minho squeezes her shoulder before leaving.

 

As soon as he’s out, he closes his eyes and exhales a long, unsteady breath. Okay. She’s getting a proper examination with someone who seems trustworthy enough, and that’s all Minho can hope for right now. He doesn’t trust his voice enough to call his husband just yet, but he sends Hyunjin a kind of long message to explain what’s going on and that he’ll call once he actually knows something.

 

The waiting room is just down the hall, so he goes for that cup of coffee he was too jittery for earlier. Hyunjin replies while he’s sitting down and they text for a few minutes before Heejin pops her head out and calls for him, waving him back in. She seems perfectly fine as far as he can tell.

 

“Well,” the doctor says, scribbling something briefly, “as I was telling Heejin-ssi, she did good checking in with her dad. There’s nothing to be found apart from what you described earlier.”

 

Minho breathes a huge sigh of relief, which makes Heejin laugh a little. He’ll take it any day.

 

“The ultrasound will take a couple of weeks,” she continues, “and as soon as I get my hands on it, I’ll get in touch. Before that I can’t say anything for sure, but I can say that I don’t think you should spend that time worrying. Either of you.”

 

Easy for you to say, Minho’s mind supplies. He keeps his mouth shut.

 

“The two lumps we did locate,” the doctor explains, “are not cancerous. Those are swollen lymph nodes, which is perfectly normal and usually arises during a virus or bacterial infection, which can mean even a common cold. They usually disappear after a few days, but I’m prescribing a small dose of antibiotics for you to try in case they’re still there in a week.”

 

Heejin nods eagerly, listening with rapt attention and wide eyes as the doctor explains. Personally, Minho is only half-listening. He knows what lymph nodes are and it makes sense to him, so if that’s the doctor’s conclusion, he’ll believe it. At least for now, and possibly during the antibiotics.

 

“I’ll let you know when the results are in,” she finishes off, to which Heejin nods again. She seems relieved and relaxed and really damn happy to get out of there, Minho would say, and he doesn’t blame her. These are very, very good news.

 

They bid her goodbye and thank her for her time before getting back to the car, all the while processing what just happened. Minho feels like a lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours and it’s just about catching up to him. The worry, the sleepless night, the endless scenarios in his head… He can drop it. Most likely, all of it will be over in a week or two.

 

He’s so out of it that he doesn’t notice Heejin calling her dad until he hears Hyunjin’s voice through the car’s speakers, and immediately sends a grateful thought her way for remembering.

 

“Hi!” Hyunjin exclaims immediately. “How did it go? What am I setting up for? Comfort food or a celebration?”

 

“It went well,” Heejin laughs, kicking off her shoes to cross her legs on the seat. “I’m okay, dad. We did an ultrasound which the doctor will call us about in a few weeks, but she didn’t find anything else and said that these two bumps are swollen lymph nodes which isn’t dangerous in itself and should pass within a week. And if they don’t, she gave me antibiotics to try. I’m fine, dad. I’ll be fine.”

 

“You’re okay?” Hyunjin repeats. Minho wonders if their daughter can hear the slight tremble in his voice as well as Minho can. “You had a thorough examination and got medication prescribed?”

 

“Yes,” she confirms. “Yes, yes, and yes. She said that it was good that we came in and that one time too many is always better than one too little, and that dad was right about the two lumps and that they aren’t dangerous.”

 

“What about the tenderness? You said there was some pain too, right? What was that about?”

 

Heejin makes a face, which Hyunjin clearly can’t tell, but it’s enough for Minho to catch it in the corner of his eye and immediately understand that he was right about that too.

 

“Fuckin’ period coming up,” she mutters, which makes Minho laugh. Hyunjin keeps it in, bless him, but he sounds a lot less worried the next time he speaks up.

 

“Celebrating tonight, comfort food for the weekend,” he concludes, and Heejin smiles in her seat. “Got it. I’m already out, so you might get back before me. Are we out of that thing the cats are obsessed with or did I just not find the stash earlier?”

 

“We’re out,” Minho laughs. “You checked the top shelf, right? Where all the other kinds are?”

 

Hyunjin hums in reply, clearly moving around.

 

“Yeah, we’re out,” Heejin supplies, fingers flying over her phone screen. “I used up the last one yesterday.”

 

“Got it,” Hyunjin repeats, definitely shuffling around now. “Alright, drive safely, see you at home! Love you!”

 

“Love you too,” both of them echo before Heejin ends the call, shifting radio stations until she finds a song she likes.

 

Minho is pretty sure he’s never heard this one in his life, but that feeling creeps up on him more often than not these days. He should probably get the radio going when he drives to work in the mornings, but he’s a creature of habit. He likes his calm and quiet before getting surrounded by hysterical animals.

 

“So what else did she ask about, hmm?” he inquires once a song Heejin doesn’t know comes up, judging by how she goes quiet. “Wanna share?”

 

“Not much, really,” Heejin provides, and he can see her turning her attention to him out of the corner of his eye. “She asked if the things she was doing were the same things you did earlier, and I said ‘yes’ because it was. Then she asked some stuff about my period which I guess led her to that conclusion about the tenderness I described. And also if I were on birth control or considered it, since that can help with the cramps and all that too.”

 

Minho nods along, knowing very well how affected Heejin has been from time to time. They’ve never really breached the topic of birth control or other meds or drugs that might affect her hormones, but maybe they should have? 

 

“Oh,” she adds, already grinning, “she asked if we were close and I said ‘yeah, I guess, since I felt more comfortable having my dad squeeze my boobs than doing it myself’.”

 

“You did not say that,” Minho groans, throwing his head against the headrest behind him.

 

“I sure did.”

 

“Oh, my god, who raised you?”

 

“The same dad who agreed to squeeze my boobs.”

 

Minho can’t help laughing, the ridiculous conversation so relieving and anticlimactic after everything they’ve gone through the past day. She’s funny, so sue him. Heejin’s sense of humor is definitely nurture, no matter how much of her might be nature.

 

“That settles it,” he throws right back. “You’re definitely adopted.”

 

To his right, Minho hears the sharp, scandalized intake of breath that hangs in the air for a long moment. Then Heejin breaks out in loud laughter, in obvious disbelief that he would say that to her, and pretty much laughs the entire drive home.

 

Once they’ve parked and Minho has locked the car, he grins while catching Heejin’s hand and pulling her against him. She huffs a little but stays in the embrace, letting him hold her for a while.

 

“You’re my girl,” Minho informs her, no matter how funny or scared or adopted she is, “and I love love love you.”

 

“Even though I’m clearly adopted?” she asks smartly, never giving in without a fight.

 

“Every single second,” Minho assures her, fitting his fingers through the strands of her hair. “I've loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you, babygirl. That’s not gonna change.”

 

“Good,” Heejin says, snuggling into him just another bit. “I forbid it.”

 

---

 

18

“Daddy?”

 

“Hmmm?” Minho replies, somewhat distracted by the stain he’s trying to get out from the sink. “What is it?”

 

“If I call you later tonight, can you come pick me up?”

 

Minho stands up immediately.

 

“Huh?” he calls, turning towards the hallway leading to Heejin’s room. “It’s Wednesday. Where are you going?”

 

“Out,” she replies easily, light footsteps approaching, and then she enters the wide open space of the living area. In the tiniest dress Minho has ever seen in his life. He reaches for the counter to steady himself.

 

Oh, God.

 

“Uh,” he says, and then not much more.

 

Meanwhile, Heejin fiddles with the earrings she’s putting on, seemingly not paying him much attention, which Minho is grateful for because he’s pretty sure his face is turning purple with all the restraint he’s using not to grab her by the shoulders and walk her back into her room. If she was to turn around, Minho is fairly certain that he would probably see her underwear. That’s how short the piece of fabric is. She does not own any shorts or anything else that could fit beneath that non-existent skirt.

 

From the front, the thin line of skin from collarbone to cleavage and suspiciously near belly button is already too much for Minho to handle. What the fuck does he do now?

 

“Uh,” he says one more time, not any clearer on where he’s actually going with it. “Where… did you say you were going?”

 

“Just out,” Heejin laughs, switching ear. “Why? I’ll update you as we go, as usual.”

 

“Mm,” Minho mumbles, feeling a vein tick dangerously in his forehead. Dear God. “Who’s ‘we’ again?”

 

“Just the girls,” Heejin replies, waving a dismissive hand in her dad’s direction. “Seohyun is trying to get over her breakup and we all promised to hang out with her when she needs some distraction. Jisoo might wanna stay the night, though. Is that okay?”

 

“Mmmhm,” Minho replies through his gritted teeth. “‘Course, yeah.”

 

“Great,” Heejin chirps before heading back to her bathroom.

 

Minho exhales unsteadily. What is he supposed to do? Does he just… do nothing and let her hit the streets of Seoul like that? His eighteen-year-old? What would Hyunjin do if he were home?

 

Oh, he’d let her. Minho groans. His husband is no fan of dictating who wears what, and Minho didn’t think he was either, but… Christ. Does he just shut his mouth and hope for the best? Just… ignore the way her entire body is on display for literally any creep who’s in the wrong place this particular night? What are the other girls wearing? Do their parents care?

 

Very unlike him, Minho rips off the gloves to bring his hands to his mouth and start chipping at his cuticles. What does he do? He doesn’t want to be controlling or make her uncomfortable, but he doesn’t want anything to happen to her either. That’d be worse than having Heejin be upset with him, wouldn’t it?

 

Although… Things could happen no matter what she or any other girl wears. Minho knows that too. It probably doesn’t make a huge difference whether she’s in a dress or sweats, is sober or intoxicated, walks this path or that… It’s a powerless and helpless thought, but in some sense comforting as well. It’ll never be her fault. It’ll never be his or Hyunjin’s fault either. It’ll be fine.

 

She’ll be fine.

 

“Hey, dad?” Heejin calls again, just a second later.

 

“Yeah, honey?”

 

“Can you come here? I need your help with something.”

 

Confused, Minho makes his way towards her voice, peeking through the open door to her bathroom where she’s facing the mirror, quickly gesturing for him to come inside. As soon as he does, she turns her back to him pointedly and holds her hair in a tight bun above her shoulders.

 

“I can’t get this dress off,” she sighs, wiggling a little to no avail. “I can reach the zipper but that’s it. It won’t go down. Please help.”

 

“I thought you said you were going out with the girls,” Minho replies, more confused, but he helps her with the uncooperative zipper either way, gently taking hold of her bun as Heejin holds the front of her now-loose dress with both hands.

 

“I am, technically,” Heejin replies, laughing heartily as she turns around while Minho remains completely lost. “Jisoo and I were called in to babysit Minju for a few hours. Something about a case that needed celebrating and not wanting to mess with her bedtime. We were promised that we could order anything. ”

 

“You…,” Minho says, trailing off as Heejin keeps grinning. “You’re just messing with me?”

 

“Yeah,” she admits, seemingly completely guilt-free despite the extremely chaotic inner turmoil she launched her poor dad into. “I’m not going out on a Wednesday and I’m not wearing this dress I grew out of two years ago. I’m gonna meet Jisoo at the subway stop by their place and then we’re staying with Minju until they’re back, but I’d rather ride home with you than take the subway by myself. So you’ll come?”

 

Minho stares at her despite the immense relief that’s washing over him. She’s not gonna run around Itaewon or Hongdae all night? No talking to strangers? No drinking to forget about stupid boys and other sorrows?

 

She’s just going to watch Seungmin and Jeongin’s four-year-old baby girl again?

 

“You little brat,” he finally manages, incredulous, which makes Heejin laugh even harder than before. “Wow. Do you understand what you just put me through? Oh, my fucking God. I need to lie down. Oh, thank God.”

 

All the way down the hall and back to the living room, Heejin’s giggles echo towards the ceiling and bounce off the walls. Minho is completely exhausted. Totally wiped out. What the fuck.

 

When she returns to take a seat on the floor next to him, a large smile still painting her face, Heejin has switched the ungodly excuse of a dress for some loose pants, a tank top and a large cardigan. Minho breathes another sigh of relief. She really was just messing with him then.

 

“Were you really gonna let me leave like that?” she asks curiously, resting her chin on the cushion next to Minho’s arm. “I can’t say that you looked particularly happy, but… You didn’t protest either. Would you have?”

 

“Probably,” he mutters, glaring at the ceiling. “I wouldn’t have been happy about it, but… Hyunjinnie wouldn’t have dictated what you wore and not, so I figured I shouldn’t either just because he wasn’t here. Even if it’s tempting.”

 

“You could have blamed the season,” she teases, which Minho realizes that he didn’t even think of. It’s October. His 47th birthday is next week. “You know me, though, daddy. I like my comfort. And I’ve spent half my life freezing. If I try wearing a short dress outside of summer, you should have me checked for brain tumors.”

 

“Next time,” Minho agrees while she laughs quietly. “And then myself for aneurysms after.”

 

---

 

18.5

“Daddy?”

 

Minho hums, unpacking their groceries as Heejin shows up and takes a seat, grabbing one of the apples before he can pour them into their bowl. 

 

“Can I ask you something?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Does it bother you when I walk around at home without any underwear or alternatively wearing just my underwear?”

 

Minho frowns at the innocent plastic box containing the mandatory strawberries before putting them in the fridge, ignoring his daughter’s protesting noise in the background.

 

“That’s a dumb question,” he states, moving on to the next shopping bag. “Here at home? Where you live? Of course not.”

 

“Well, which option bothers you more then?” she insists, and Minho briefly wonders if he’s being set up for some dumb prank or video. She’s fishing for something.

 

“Uhm,” he says. “What does ‘without underwear’ mean?”

 

“Like wearing a shirt with no bra beneath.”

 

“Got it,” he replies, stacking the ice cream into its delegated box. “Well, my answer’s just your underwear then. You’re just like your dad, too lazy to get clothes when you’re actually freezing. No wonder we have blankets strewn all over the place.”

 

She doesn’t respond to that, which Minho assumes means that she’s providing this information to someone else or saving it for later. He has no clue. She gets up to some weird stuff from time to time.

 

That’s why he’s awfully surprised when he’s being sort of awkwardly hugged from behind, both of Heejin’s arms linked around his middle and trapping his own arms to his sides. He has absolutely no idea what’s going on, but that must’ve been close to a correct answer, then?

 

“Why would you ask me that, angel?” he tries, staying in place. “Did something happen?”

 

“Kind of,” Heejin huffs before letting go, returning to her chair. Minho pauses his task to sit down opposite of her and see what this is about. 

 

She seems a bit agitated, now that Minho is actually looking at her. Closely.

 

“Jimin’s dad tells her to put some clothes on whenever she’s in pajamas or long shirts and hoodies, so she did,” Heejin starts explaining, pushing her dark hair out of her eyes. “But then she went without a bra since she’s all covered up anyway, and then he told her to put on some underwear and dress like a decent person, and she’s like, it’s her house too? Why does she need to be uncomfortable in her own house?”

 

Minho nods, kind of seeing the bigger picture now.

 

“But then he claimed that he was uncomfortable,” Heejin continues, a little louder and more frustrated, “so that her feeling that way shouldn’t take precedence, and she said that her chest is the same whether she’s wearing a bra or not just like his package is dangling between his legs whether he wears boxers or not, and now he’s so mad that he refuses to speak to her. It’s been two weeks.”

 

“That’s messed up,” is Minho’s initial reaction, because what the fuck, “but my question still stands.”

 

“Oh,” Heejin exclaims, suddenly remembering her own questions. “Jimin wanted to know what a normal dad would think, so I said I’d ask you.”

 

“I’m a normal dad, huh?”

 

“Yeah, she’s very jealous of me for having two pretty great dads, actually,” Heejin replies, smiling a little. “You know, since she has one and he fucking sucks.”

 

Unable to help himself, Minho smiles too.

 

“It sounds like it, yeah,” he agrees. “I assume that her dad’s straight, but it’s pretty weird to fixate your gaze on your daughter’s chest either way, isn’t it? Doesn’t his discomfort say more about him than her?”

 

“Exactly!”

 

“His teenage daughter has the chest of half the population and her clothes don’t entirely hide that fact, does he think he’s the first one in that situation?” Minho muses out loud, finding his daughter nodding back at him rapidly. “Why would those body parts draw his eyes any more than her face or hands? And what kind of parent doesn’t put their kid’s comfort above their own anyway?”

 

“Exactly!” Heejin repeats, gesturing sort of comically. Minho tries really hard not to laugh. “So I can tell her that you agree that he’s a sexist asshole and that she should start wearing lingerie around the house?”

 

At that, Minho simply can’t restrain his laughter anymore at his daughter’s wit. Heejin grins victoriously on her end of the table, already texting - presumably - Jimin, and Minho lets her. She’s got a sharp tongue - probably his doing - and is incredibly quick to catch onto and act according to her emotions - definitely Hyunjin’s doing - which has caused some tantrums and conflicts over the years, but far more laughter and amusing situations.

 

“Those words did not leave my mouth,” he argues, even though he does find it kind of funny. “I think she should suggest that her dad get some lingerie and embrace his own body instead, actually. ‘Might do him some good to try out women’s underwear before demanding that she wears it twenty-four seve-- What?”

 

Heejin eyes him closely, eyes narrowed and sort of leaning across the table. Minho mimics the expression back at her.

 

“That’s suspicious,” she tells him. “I know you’re gay and all--”

 

“How observant of you,” Minho deadpans. She sticks her tongue out.

 

“--but have you actually worn women’s lingerie? For real? Do you have any around the house?”

 

This question is somehow trickier, Minho thinks. The answer is quite simple, but he doesn’t really want to out his husband unless it’s unnecessary. He doesn’t want either of them to feel uncomfortable because of what Minho says next. On the other hand, Heejin looks sort of expectant and intrigued rather than weirded out, which is a good thing, and still…

 

“I’ve never worn lingerie, no,” he says, truthfully. “And I don’t have to, because I don’t care what the other people in this household want to wear.”

 

“Oh, my God,” Heejin breathes, practically balancing both elbows on the table as she puts it together. “Oh, my God. Dad has, hasn’t he? Gross, don’t smile like that!”

 

Minho opts to chuckle instead, staring down at his hands until the vivid memories and visuals have more or less left his brain. How to go about this?

 

“Your dad…,” Minho starts, trying to phrase this correctly, “he has, yeah. There was this thing and he considered it a kind of gift to himself. Before we met, but I’ve seen pictures. They’re beautiful. I’m pretty sure it’s a nice memory.”

 

On the other end of the table, Heejin sucks her lips in before chewing on them as she contemplates what to say. It only takes her a couple of seconds to break, just like Minho suspected she would. She used to love bringing the magazines and albums out to check, when she was younger. Hyunjin’s model career has always kept her wide-eyed; especially since she doesn’t really know that version of him personally.

 

“Damn it,” she groans. “Now I’m curious. Do you think I can bother him and ask?”

 

“Sure, go ahead,” Minho replies, nodding towards Hyunjin’s studio. “Maybe he’ll put on the whole show if you ask nicely. I don’t think he’ll let you try any of it, though.”

 

“Why am I so weirdly intrigued by this?” Heejin wonders out loud before rising from her seat and heading off down the hallway with purpose in her steps.

 

Not even fifteen seconds later, Minho hunches over with the force of his laughter as his husband’s voice echoes through the apartment. Shortly after, Heejin’s giggles join his own.

 

“Lee Minho,” Hyunjin shouts in warning, hastily approaching, “you did not just tell her that!”

 

---

 

19

“Daddy?”

 

“I’m here,” Minho calls from the couch, lifting his eyes from his phone approximately one second before his daughter rounds the corner into the room. She’s in a hoodie so oversized it almost reaches her knees, and Minho is pretty sure that it belongs to his husband. Or that it used to, either way.

 

She plops down on the cushions beside him, curling up and crossing her arms over his chest. He pats his leg in a telling gesture, and she scoots over, sort of worm-like, until her head is just above his knee before coming to a halt.

 

“I can live with you guys until I’m thirty, right?” she mutters, stubbornly keeping her eyes closed.

 

“Til you’re forty, babygirl,” he promises. 

 

“Thanks.”

 

He pulls the hood down over her eyes and wipes some saliva away from the corner of her mouth. Heejin hums something unintelligible in gratitude. The first round of college midterms are certainly taking their toll on her.

 

“Anytime,” he replies softly. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

---

 

19.5

“Daddy?”

 

“Mmm?”

 

“I cannot believe I’m actually doing this.”

 

Minho snickers over his chips, watching his husband enter the living room with a laptop balancing on one arm. Hopefully, the whole thing will be possible to watch through the TV despite the format and all that, seeing how it’s been literal ages since they first received the footage.

 

“It’s about time,” Hyunjin declares, fiddling with the computer. “Personally, I cannot believe that Jisoo and Nayeon noona watched it. That’s so embarrassing. You, on the other hand. You will not escape any longer.”

 

“That was pretty funny,” Heejin laughs as Minho remembers exactly how she’d laughed at both of them when she saw their faces as they found that out. “‘Made me curious, though. I guess there’s no better time than a couple of months before moving out, right?”

 

“Oh, God,” Hyunjin groans from the floor. “Don’t remind me.”

 

Minho hides his smile behind his glass. Not that he’s entirely sure that he will handle it very well, but he’s pretty sure that his husband will handle it even worse. That’s some consolation, for sure. Heejin seems to find their separation anxiety to be the funniest thing in the world, but this 19-year-old version of her wasn’t present when they dropped her off on the first day of preschool.

 

“Oh, wow,” she remarks, slightly impressed. “It’s working! This is from the stone age or something, right? How is it working?”

 

“Watch your mouth,” Minho replies as Heejin snickers into her bag of jellies.

 

“Scoot over!” Hyunjin orders once the laptop is all plugged up and the video has started playing, shooing Minho further into the corner of the couch so he can half-sit, half-lie down next to him. “Wow, I’m a little nervous now. Have we ever watched this apart from that first time?”

 

“I don’t think so,” Minho replies truthfully.

 

It was a lot to watch it just that one time, and while the wedding footage itself has been brought out a handful of times - anniversaries and stuff - that's really it.

 

“Why am I getting nervous?” Heejin giggles from her own corner, grabbing a pillow and setting it on her raised knees beneath the blanket. “As if I’m not the physical manifestation of how this thing ends. Like Chaewonnie. And Noah and Lana. And Jaeminnie and Jinyoungie. And--”

 

“Thanks,” Minho interrupts, “we get it. Lots of happily ever afters from this little thing. You’re welcome, by the way.”

 

“Pfft,” she huffs, getting comfortable as she watches the intro with wide eyes.

 

She can’t tell who’s who from the previews alone since the participants aren’t really revealed yet, but she listens and watches as the rules and the setting gets introduced. When she finally gets her first look at them, piling in two by two on each side of the house, she squeals so loudly that Hyunjin presses pause until all of it is out.

 

“Jesus christ,” Minho mutters. “It’s a good thing we couldn’t see each other. Look at Binnie’s hair. What the fuck.”

 

“Binnie’s?” Hyunjin exclaims. “Look at mine! It’s so… blonde. I look like a baby. What the hell?”

 

“You are a baby,” Minho deadpans, laughing when his husband goes for his ticklish spots immediately. “Okay, sorry! You’re cute though, look at you. And is there a color you haven’t tried? I vividly remember you pulling off pink, red, and blue.”

 

“I cried so much,” Hyunjin whines next, switching lanes and throwing an arm over his eyes. “Christ. Why did I think this was a good idea?”

 

“I think this was a fantastic idea!” Heejin bursts from her end. “I’m gonna make Chaewonnie watch it too. This is amazing.”

 

“Ugh,” Hyunjin huffs, but then he presses ‘play’ again.

 

Whenever Minho sneaks a look in her direction, Heejin seems totally entranced by the drama playing out before her as she hears their hopes and expectations for the eventual outcome, the mindset and approach they had going in, the way they get to know the other participants on their side and then how the (blind) dating begins.

 

“Oh, my God,” she breathes when it becomes apparent that her parents are having their first ever conversation right in front of her eyes. “This is literally crazy. That’s you guys. You’re falling in love. Oh, my God.”

 

“This is the literal first hour,” Minho reminds her, “but I mean… Yeah, it’s pretty crazy.”

 

Apparently, Heejin finds the aligning-future-dates part absolutely hilarious. How Hyunjin clearly struggles by crossing out some names and humming over others, how Minho very evidently writes Hyunjin down first; how literally everyone wrote Hyunjin’s name down which is shown through little clips while the Hyunjin himself of twenty plus years ago agonizes of whether anyone will or not in his little interview.

 

“Wow, dad, you were the blind date, weren’t you?” she remarks, which makes Minho laugh while his husband grumbles. “They didn’t even know how cute you were in your blonde hair, right? Oh, my god, wait. Wait! Am I going to witness the first time you actually got to see each other?”

 

“Mhm,” Minho confirms, finding Hyunjin’s fingers and weaving them through his own. “That’s the 4th episode, if I remember correctly. Give or take one.”

 

By the time their second date pops up on the screen, Heejin is practically bouncing in her seat, sitting up straight and on full alert. She laughs out loud when Hyunjin corrects Minho on what is fate and what is not; what romance is and isn’t. This doesn’t seem to surprise her very much, but the smile stays on her face as she watches the interaction all the way until the question of what the hell Minho is doing is right there on her lips.

 

It never resonates in the rest of the room, because she spots the little box in her dad’s hands right when they do, and Minho isn’t sure whether the little goosebumps on his neck are due to the memory of that moment or the soft kiss Hyunjin leaves on his jaw.

 

“Is that what I think it is?” she demands, tossing her pillow away as she twists her hair into a quick bun and stares at the rest. “Were you gonna propose during the second conversation you guys had? You’re seriously stressing me out here, dad. Were you out of your mind?”

 

“Maybe a little,” Minho allows with a smile. Probably not as handsome as the one he’s sporting on the screen from twenty years ago, but a smile nonetheless. “‘Seems like my instincts steered me right, though, don’t you think?”

 

Heejin doesn’t have any arguments regarding that point.

 

Their third date including a drinking game seems absolutely hilarious to her, as she listens intently and categorizes which things are still true - like how Minho’s never owned a dog - and which ones have changed - like how Hyunjin has learned how to drive. Her mouth shapes a perfect circle when they talk about their past relationships and partners, which it seems like she’s never thought about at all, but she doesn’t ask anything beyond what they discuss.

 

Then Hyunjin’s grandma passes and Minho holds his husband’s hand tighter while past-Hyunjin explains to the camera what’s happened, and Heejin watches in attentive silence.

 

Then, Jisung walks in to see Minho, and her eyes grow wide as saucers as the conversation starts while Minho himself tries to sink down beneath the blanket without anyone noticing. Hyunjin notices, of course, and stops him despite Minho’s groan. On her end, Heejin gasps as Jisung begins to phrase the question, and then again when Minho interrupts him to let him down as gently as possible.

 

“Did this actually happen?” she questions out loud, staring at the screen as the scene plays out. “Did he… What?”

 

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” Hyunjin agrees, thankfully able to laugh about this after all the years that’s passed and how Jisung likes to bring it up and declare how happy he is with Changbin literally every single time he’s drunk. “Imagine if Han Jisung had been your dad, Lee Heejin. You should be grateful.”

 

“I am,” she agrees, nodding while Minho laughs. “He’s so loud, you know? ‘Would’ve driven me nuts. And I do not want him to teach me how to actually drive.”

 

It’s a little funny how self-satisfied Hyunjin seems by that, but Minho doesn’t argue. It’s not like he’s ever second-guessed his actions, not for Jisung or anyone else, and Hyunjin should be pleased with himself. Minho didn’t bring his rings out after an hour and a half for nothing.

 

Without much time to recover, their next date starts playing and the stark difference of Minho’s two meetings that day are very vivid in his memory. The realization that Hyunjin was upset, the relief when he learned that it wasn’t his doing, the joy when he was able to catch the sound of Hyunjin laughing again. Heejin watches and processes all of it in silence, but she laughs a little for their next date; the one where Hyunjin wants to be convinced on what he would gain from marrying Minho.

 

After that, of course, comes the date with the proposal itself. It certainly doesn’t start out that way, as Minho distinctly remembers, but that means that it takes Heejin by surprise which is doubtlessly kind of entertaining.

 

“Oh, my God,” she mumbles, totally entranced, “this is it, isn’t it? Oh, my God, you’re gonna propose. This is the proposal. I’m gonna throw up.”

 

“Please don’t,” Minho tells her. “You know the cushions stain horribly.”

 

She sticks her tongue out. Hyunjin tells her to hush and keep watching. It’s a little funny.

 

“Oh, my God, it’s happening,” Heejin all but shouts, waving her hands in the air. “Look at your faces against the glass! You’re crying! I’m crying! What the fuck!”

 

“Wow,” Hyunjin whispers next to Minho, eyes shining as he watches the screen, same as their daughter. “Wow.”

 

“Dad, you’re on one knee!” she narrates, as if all of their eyes weren’t already glued to the same thing. Minho nods distractedly. “Oh, this is so… It’s so… Oh, my God. What the fuck.”

 

“Agreed,” he says, sensing Hyunjin’s breathless laughter next to him.

 

“Oh, my God,” Heejin echoes, apparently out of words. “What the hell just happened? You’re engaged. You just got engaged. In front of my eyes. Jesus Christ.”

 

“Actually,” Hyunjin teases her, “we’re married.”

 

*

 

When the time comes to watch their first meeting, Minho’s eyes aren’t dry either. This particular moment isn’t one he’s thought of that many times, simply because he was more nervous for other ones that also seemed more monumental, in most ways. But watching Hyunjin the way he looked the very first second Minho laid eyes on him, and watching his own expression when he does, Minho is surprisingly more emotional than anticipated.

 

“This is crazy,” his daughter repeats from the other side of the couch, over and over, munching away on the popcorn that doesn’t fall out of her gaping mouth, “this is actually surreal. Look at you. I feel like I’m watching a drama, but that’s you guys. Dad, you’re literally exactly the same. What the fuck.”

 

“Shut up,” Minho laughs, but his emotions definitely show and Hyunjin ends up cooing at him before throwing his arm around Minho’s shoulder and tugging him closer.

 

“I literally wouldn’t stop crying,” Hyunjin complains when it’s his turn to comment. “Half of this show is me crying. And half of what isn’t in here as well.”

 

“An accurate depiction of you, then,” Heejin laughs, ducking when Hyunjin throws a popcorn of his own at her. “I’m just saying! You had daddy there to comfort you, though. Surely it wasn’t that bad.”

 

“It wasn’t,” Hyunjin agrees with a wry smile. “Just a lot. In a very short amount of time.”

 

“Y’all are crazy,” she sums up, snickering.

 

The next time they’re shown on screen again, they’ve reached the Maldives. Little clips of them napping and having meals, smiling faces without much conversation to be heard, before the infamous grape scene starts rolling.

 

“Oh, no,” Heejin groans, covering her face with her hands but peeking out between her fingers, “you’re about to embarrass me.”

 

“Just a little bit,” Minho allows. “Nothing you haven’t seen before, I’d say.”

 

“There are cameras!” she yells when said camera zooms in a little closer, capturing the firm and sort of messy kiss, if Minho remembers correctly. “Oh, you guys are gross. Wow. Oh, there’s a hug instead. Yeah, that’s better.”

 

Hyunjin only laughs, eyes a little sparkly as he watches his own mischievous self, and Minho decides to leave a little kiss on his husband’s surprised mouth now as well.

 

“Dad!” Heejin bursts; not because of Minho’s peck, he realizes belatedly, but because of Hyunjin’s face as he aggressively sips his drink on the TV. “You’re so…! Wow. Did you think Jisung was gonna steal your man or something?”

 

“Excuse me for not knowing better after two whole days together,” Hyunjin sulks, grabbing his present drink to sip. “I’ll have you know they covered up the pretty mark I left on his neck before that. So rude.”

 

“Oh, my God, is that true?”

 

“It’s true,” Minho confirms with a grin, which sends her into another fit of giggles.

 

Either she doesn’t notice how quiet past-Hyunjin is for the rest of the reunion thing or she doesn’t want to bring light to it, because just like the first time they watched it back, there doesn’t seem to be any need to talk about it. It’s not actually relevant anymore and Heejin doesn’t seem to pick up on it, so Minho settles for smiling softly when Hyunjin briefly brings Minho’s hand to his lips.

 

For the next episode - which Minho can definitely witness and remember the different vibes to the air for - she doesn’t say much either. Heejin is watching with rapt attention, sure, but doesn’t react much to the scenes of them eating and reading and jet-skiing as they get to know each other.

 

Then comes the lovely little clip of them making out in the water, and it doesn’t take her many seconds to scream and hold the pillow to her face.

 

“What is wrong with you!” Heejin wails, giggling while she throws them looks of outrage at the same time. “How could you do this to me! Why would you want me to see this?!”

 

“We’re just kissing a little bit,” Minho defends himself weakly, gesturing vaguely while unable to look away from the screen. “Like I said, nothing you haven’t seen before. And this is the last night, by the way. You know how hard it is to go to sleep on the last night before going home.”

 

She mutters at this, throwing them side-eyes while stubbornly holding her pillow until Minho informs her that the coast is clear. The entire time, Hyunjin stays pretty quiet and simply watches the TV, but when the scene literally starts fading to black he exhales softly and slides down to rest in the crook of Minho’s neck. Part of Minho wants to ask, wants to say something, but Heejin’s presence prevents him from doing so.

 

“‘Love you,” he whispers instead, stroking Hyunjin's hair gently. “Infinitely.”

 

Another soft exhale into his neck is the only answer he gets, but it’s also all the answer Minho needs.

 

*

 

The following episodes showcasing Hyunjin and Minho’s weeks in Seoul before the wedding don’t impress Heejin very much, considering those are… more or less the parents and people she’s already familiar with. It becomes increasingly evident how familiar they became fairly quickly and how well they get along with other participants and each other’s families and so on, how Minho’s workplace has and hasn’t changed since then, and little things about the apartment they first shared that have gotten lost in memory.

 

Heejin does find it funny how visibly nervous Hyunjin was upon meeting Minho’s parents for the first time, but she calls them sappy for Minho’s little speech upon seeing Hyunjin’s parents and accuses him of wanting to worm his way in and not being able to get that past her.

 

“The tricks are there to be used,” Minho grins back, which is a saying he’s stolen from his husband who coincidentally seems to find the exchange kind of funny.

 

Then it’s time for the wedding, and while Heejin actually has seen that footage once before - around age fifteen or sixteen, Minho thinks - she’s never caught the full story. This is the first time she gets to follow the preparations in terms of suit fitting and cake testing and flower picking, and watch one laughing dad practically skip down the aisle in his casual outfit until he reaches the other one. 

 

Of course, before they get to watch the real walk down the aisle, there’s the clip of Hyunjin’s locked door and his poor mother trying to explain to the camera crew that she has absolutely no idea what’s going on. Despite having seen this particular bit before and also remembering their video chat, Minho can’t help laughing out loud. Hyunjin’s definitely grinning as well.

 

“You know what?” Heejin says thoughtfully from her own corner. “I think this is the single-handedly most undeniable proof of nurture beating nature. Dad, you’ve never locked yourself away where I’ve seen it, but somehow, you’ve passed the trait onto me anyway. How many doors could have been spared from all that shouting?”

 

“Oh, honey,” Minho drawls while Hyunjin laughs, “you have no idea. Trust me.”

 

“Well,” Hyunjin recounts playfully, “this is one time. Also the first time with your parents. Loads of times when you’ve come home from work. A handful of arguments. That one time you didn’t get me ice cream for an entire week and I refused to come out until you got some.”

 

“Good times,” Minho quips. “No wonder your daughter likes to shout at me from the other side of whichever door she’s slammed behind her.”

 

“My daughter?” Hyunjin argues immediately. “Yeah, right. It’s not like she’s got your infuriating, quick wit or anything.”

 

“Gee, guys,” Heejin interrupts, clapping her hands to get their attention. “I’m a brat because of you, thanks, can we move on?”

 

Minho can’t hide his smile.

 

“Just like your dad.”

 

“Lee Minho, I swear t--”

 

*

 

The final episode is the one concerning the reunion, which is possibly the least interesting one to their daughter, who knows all of these people and who appear - in this episode - the most similar to the way she’s also come to know them. She fake-gags when Minho states that Hyunjin is nothing short of perfect, but smiles fondly when she learns how they spent the time after their wedding and listens to what the different couples choose to share in terms of opinions about each other.

 

Then the topic of potential fights comes up, and Minho pauses. It was never explicitly stated that their serious argument was about kids, was it? Is it better if Heejin doesn’t know that? Does it matter if she does?

 

Three seconds later, she asks.

 

“Hey, what’d you fight about?”

 

A sort of innocent, completely unaware question. Minho sees where she’s coming from, having never really watched them fight like they did that night, for the simple reason that they never did again. They both learned their lesson, he’s pretty sure. Arguments and disagreements and some disappointment here and there, yes, but they never fought like that again. Minho remembers the ice cold terror when Hyunjin proclaimed that he was going to leave, those short but endless moments before he added that he would be coming back later.

 

He never wants to relive it, and so far, he’s never had to.

 

“You, ironically,” Hyunjin huffs, turning Heejin’s way with a faint smile. She looks extremely confused by this, and Minho doesn’t blame her. “Remember how I told you once that we almost missed out on you?”

 

“Yeah,” she says slowly, eyeing them suspiciously. “I thought you meant that the adoption process was a slippery slope. Is that… not it?”

 

“Well, it is,” Hyunjin replies, “I vividly remember there being four other families but you wouldn’t stop crying until your dad held you, so… It could’ve been that. But this fight we’re referencing was before that. When I was still convinced that I didn’t want kids. And we forgot to talk about that at all before getting married.”

 

Heejin stares at him, and then at Minho, with a look that sort of says ‘are you being serious right now?’. He shrugs weakly. They kind of are, yeah.

 

“You didn’t talk about having kids before getting married?” she deadpans. Minho shrugs again. “Are you kidding me? You were like teenagers! Making out in the pool, feeding each other grapes for the camera, getting married without discussing kids! Oh, my God. I’m so glad you’re not my kids. You’re crazy, for real.”

 

“Wow,” Minho laughs, “thanks for the judgment, oh, beloved daughter.”

 

“You’re welcome,” she tells them while Hyunjin joins in on the laughter. “You clearly needed some sense knocked into your dummy heads. Thank God I entered the picture.”

 

---

 

20

“Daddy, ‘s that you?”

 

“Yeah,” Minho replies as she shuts the door behind him, tucking his too-long hair behind his ear to get it out of his vision. “Was that the last one?”

 

“Yeah, I think it was,” Heejin replies, shoving the box Minho just sat down on the floor with her foot. “Twenty years and less boxes than that. Not even one box for every year of my life, huh?”

 

“Be grateful,” Minho scoffs. “If we’d kept all the stuff you’ve enjoyed across that timespan, just your first year with us would’ve filled twenty moving boxes. That elephant you were obsessed with and the bunny blanket we had to rip out of your hands and the pink cup you refused to touch and always threw on the floor. Good times.”

 

She laughs at that, gesturing for him to come along into the softly lit living room, Seoul’s afternoon sunlight still brightening most of it. The creamy beige walls probably do their part for the ambience as well, along with her crisp, white bookshelves lining one wall. It may have taken Minho a few hours, but damn, they look steady.

 

“You’re coming again tomorrow to help me with the paintings, right?”

 

“Mmm,” he confirms, still eyeing the room. “Yeah, just pick out some potential places and formations, yeah?”

 

“I will,” Heejin promises. “You’re a fool if you don’t think dad’s already given, like, fifteen suggestions, though.”

 

“True,” Minho chuckles before taking another look at the kitchen and the lighting in there. “Are you sure you’re not coming back with us? It’s not too late to change your mind.”

 

“Dad,” Heejin laughs, coming up behind him to cross her arms in the doorway. “It’s literally two stops on the subway. Two in the other direction and Minju will be waving at me from her window. What was the car ride, ten minutes, tops?”

 

“Eleven,” Minho teases her.

 

She protests a little, mostly muffled, when he crowds her against the door and crushes her for a long, squealing moment that has Hyunjin laughing where he appears from her bedroom, evidently wanting in on the hug as well.

 

“My baby girl!” he calls, making Heejin laugh along as he rounds them and throws one arm around Minho and one around their daughter. “I can’t believe you’re asking me to leave you here. How dare you.”

 

“How dare I?” Heejin agrees, standing there dutifully while they let their separation anxiety finally take over.

 

Her apartment is freshly painted, mostly furnished, and kind of decorated. Minho remembers getting new places for himself, for them, and he knows the impending sensation of needing to fix things and get everything in order, but… he doesn’t really want to leave her. This is permanent. She’s not spending the weekend with a friend or her grandparents or babysitting; she’s moving out.

 

Heejin is officially moving out, into this apartment they’ve scouted for and eventually settled on getting for her, and she won’t be coming back with them. Not even within a couple of days. Saying ‘not ever’ would probably be a bit of an exaggeration, but still, it’s…

 

It’s harder than Minho has allowed himself to think about.

 

“Our precious girl,” he murmurs into her hair, sighing a little. “When did you get all grown-up, hmm? When I wasn’t watching?”

 

“So it would seem,” she plays along, finally wrapping her arms around his middle as well. “I am grown up, though. I’ll be fine, I promise. And if I need to, I’ll just call you, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Minho replies. “Just one call away. And two stops on the subway.”

 

“Perfect,” she laughs, dropping her arms which finally prompts Minho into doing the same.

 

He’s already prepared to have his husband latched onto him all night long, but can’t find it in himself to mind. Minho sort of feels like he’ll need someone to hold onto for his own part.

 

“A little longer,” Hyunjin demands even though Minho takes a step back, exchanging a meaningful look with Heejin before she turns and throws her arms around her other dad as well.

 

Over her shoulder, Minho sees the wetness on his husband’s cheeks, but he doesn’t point it out. When it’s already this hard, why would he make it harder?

 

“We love you,” he catches Hyunjin’s soft murmur, as if she would think they stopped just because she’s not living beneath their roof anymore. “‘Love love love you. And we’re so proud of you. And you’re gonna be so happy with your own space and while taking care of yourself and you’re gonna grow so much and I’m gonna be absolutely miserable thinking about it in the meantime.”

 

“Dad!” Heejin protests, but her laughter is a little emotional too. Minho can tell. “Don’t be silly. I’ll still be around, you’ll see me all the time. Don’t be a mopey mess at home, please?”

 

“Agreed,” Minho chimes in, making both of them giggle. “Please don’t be a mopey mess at home. Sometimes I want that role, too.”

 

“I’ll consider it,” Hyunjin allows. “Although, if you don’t send us daily updates for the first month, I’ll come over here to get them myself. Be so sure.”

 

“Okay,” their daughter agrees, not making any moves to let Hyunjin go just yet. “I will. Daddy’s coming over tomorrow and grandma wants to come see on Wednesday and then on Thursday we’re having dinner as usual, right? Jisoo’s gonna be here all weekend too so you should come by then and say ‘hi’ to her.”

 

Hyunjin nods, seemingly appeased by this. He doesn’t quite let go, however, which Minho can’t really blame him for. Personally, he’s torn between getting back in on the hug and wanting to get out of there so he can be a mopey mess right next to his husband, in the privacy of their own, child-free home.

 

For someone who spent nearly five years living on his own, followed by approximately five years with his husband, Minho wonders how going back to an everyday life without his daughter physically present can feel as awfully devastating as it does. Granted, he’s had her around for twice that time, but still. Still.

 

“You sure you’ll be okay?” he can’t help but ask, lingering by the door in his shoes and jacket and with a husband who is just as reluctant to leave. “Like, we’re just gonna… leave you here? And you’ll be fine?”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Heejin promises with a soft smile, crossing her arms to appear more firm. “My kitchen is stocked with food you’ve left for me and the bed is all set up and I’ll literally see you tomorrow. It’s not the first night we’ve spent in different houses.”

 

“It’s not the same,” Minho murmurs, watching her with fond eyes. “You were always coming back to us for those, little flower.”

 

“I will now, too,” she laughs, as if it’s the most obvious statement in the world. “I’m two subway stops away. And besides, you’ll have each other to obsess over me with, right?”

 

“Bet,” Hyunjin replies instantly, which makes Minho chuckle as well. “If we haven’t seen proof of life in forty-eight hours though, your dad will finally make good on that promise of breaking down doors.”

 

“Wow,” Heejin snickers, eyes flickering between them one more time before coming over to wrap one arm around each of their shoulders. “Go home. I’ll send pictures or whatever. ‘Love you guys. Now let me do this.”

 

Minho sighs into her messy hair, breathing her in one final time. She’s right; of course she is. That’s his bright little girl. Has she ever done anything except flourish? Probably not.

 

“Little sunflower wants to climb the skyscrapers, does she, now?” he teases. Hyunjin releases some shaky but audible laughter on her other side. “‘Suppose it’s time.”

 

Silently, she nods. But she doesn’t yet let go, so Minho holds his ray of light for another long moment before resting his hand on her cheek and kissing her forehead one last time.

 

“I love you,” he mumbles, simply because he can’t help himself. “‘Love love love you. Always. More than anything. ‘d never wanna hold you back.”

 

“I know, dad,” she says quietly, touching his hand briefly. “I know that.”

 

It takes a discernible amount of willpower to cease contact with her, but Minho does it somehow. While his husband mimics the same thing Minho just did, he takes the opportunity to dab at his eyes. He’s not gonna cry in front of Heejin. After this, but not in front of her.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” is the last thing he says before they finally stumble out the door, and his daughter nods with a genuine smile on her face. He knows that this is a good thing. She’s happy; really happy. That’s all Minho’s ever wanted for her.

 

“I’m gonna cry,” Hyunjin whispers as he tangles their fingers together, letting Minho guide him towards the elevator. “Right now, I’m gonna do it. Is that okay?”

 

“Darling,” Minho coos, embracing his husband tightly as soon as they’re inside the elevator and letting him hide in the familiar crook of Minho’s neck. “You can cry all you want. I’m trying to keep it together for the drive home, but after that, I’m gonna catch up quickly.”

 

“Okay,” Hyunjin replies, a muffled but sort of amused little thing, and holds Minho even tighter for a second. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

 

*

 

It takes them a couple of weeks, but soon enough, Minho and Hyunjin find a new normal. It’s different from the years they spent together before Heejin - because that was before Heejin - but Minho finds himself quite fond of it despite that.

 

They aren’t in their mid-twenties anymore, with their whole lives ahead of them and so many things yet to discover about each other. It’s not like that, because they’ve finally reached the point of having known the other person for longer than they haven’t, and Hyunjin’s excitement about that fact is honestly extremely contagious.

 

“Can you believe it?” Hyunjin whispers, playing with the barely-there, really fine strands of hair on Minho’s chest. “I used to wonder where you were, but Minho, I… I’ve spent over half my life with you now. Almost my entire adulthood. I’ve had you for longer than I haven’t, and somehow we have twice that time left. How is that possible?”

 

“I don’t know, darling,” Minho murmurs with a small smile, already waiting when Hyunjin tilts his head up to look at him with soft eyes full of wonder. “How did we get this lucky?”

 

“How?” Hyunjin agrees, gorgeous eyes crinkling with new lines for Minho to discover each year. “And how do you only get more handsome every time I see you?”

 

Chuckling, Minho pulls his husband higher up his torso until he gets the hint and hovers closely above Minho instead, gently touching his face with familiar fingertips.

 

“Good thing you get to wake up next to me everyday then, hmm?”

 

“‘s the best thing,” Hyunjin confides quietly, before grazing Minho’s jaw with a light touch and pressing a slow kiss to his waiting lips. He tastes like the morning glow through the curtains and the warmth of their bodies tightly intertwined.

 

“I love you,” Minho sighs the second they part. “I love that you carry parts of me around with you. I love that you love me. I love you so much more than I could ever tell you.”

 

“Try me,” Hyunjin whispers with a grin, closing in on Minho once more who only tightens the grip of his hands on Hyunjin’s bare waist, holding his husband easily as he lets Hyunjin take what he’s searching for.

 

God, he cherishes mornings such as these. This calm and quiet and tranquil solitude of nothing existing in the world apart from Hyunjin and this feeling inside Minho’s chest is easily the thing that sticks out when he ponders what having a child has meant in terms of sacrifices. Nothing that wasn’t worth it of course, but directing all his focus on his husband and getting the same in return is simply marvelous, and Minho has missed it. When Hyunjin suggested they re-christen the apartment last weekend, Minho genuinely couldn’t imagine anything more tempting in all the world.

 

“‘Love you,” he echoes, muffled and smiling and with Hyunjin’s breathless laughter as his soundtrack. “Love love love you. My love. My husband. My fiancé. My Hyunjinnie.”

 

“I love being your Hyunjinnie,” Minho feels shaped onto his lips, hears swirling around their cocoon of serene affection. “‘Loved being your fiancé. ‘Love being your husband more than anything. ‘Love being the father of your child. And yet, I love you more in this moment than the rest of them combined. My Minho. Mine, mine, mine.”

 

“Yours,” Minho replies, or tries to with the way Hyunjin holds his face in gorgeous hands and trades the air in Minho’s lungs for his own. “Yours, yours, yours. Are you really gonna love me for twice this long?”

 

“I really am,” Hyunjin promises, and the small sound of his wedding band clinking against Minho’s earring confirms it. “Tropical storms couldn’t wash it away. You’re mine, and I’m gonna love you, and I will make sure that you know it every day for as long as you live.”

 

“Thank you,” Minho whispers, because it’s the only thing he hasn’t gotten the chance to say yet. “Hyunjin-ah. Thank you.”

 

“Don’t thank me,” Hyunjin whispers right back. “It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading and don't forget to drop a few words :')

 

(( please don't forget to check your chests every now and then either <3 ))

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of love (love, love)
• Part 22 of author's favs!