Chapter Text
Despite letting his heart take the reins over his life and prioritizing his emotions, Sangwon prides himself on still being a rational person–meaning, he doesn’t do or think things without any basis. That is why it is very out of character for him to start developing an odd dislike towards his daughter’s, Haeun’s, singing teacher who he has not even met before.
“He’s so–so cool! He told us he started performing when he was nine.” She says with sparkling eyes as he looks up at Sangwon, a happy tilt in her voice. The twintails he tied her long, dark hair into this morning sway along her hops as they walk towards their apartment, his hand tightly holding onto her smaller one. “I wanna do that too…,” she mumbles away.
“I’m sure–”
Sangwon doesn’t get to finish his sentence before she bursts out in another, “And! He complimented me twice today!” Her hops come to a stop with a stomp in her excitement in the middle of the sidewalk, body turning towards him fully. “We were doing… um, pi–peech...”
“Pitch?” He asks, and gets an enthusiastic nod in response. Before she could continue, he leans down to pick her up–he knows by now from experience, if he stands around to wait until she finishes raving about Mr. Exceptionally Cool and Kind and Perfect Teacher to resume their way home, they are never getting home. As he pulls her into his arms, he is once again hit with the reality of how rapidly she has started growing lately. It’s a realization he has had more times than he can count in the past few months, and it still leaves him a bit emotional without exception. It hasn’t been long since she started walking (in Sangwon’s perception of time), and now suddenly her height reaches his hips, and she has started school, and is attending singing lessons.
“Pitch! We were doing pitch practice. He told me I was really good! Like, one of the best among his students ever!”
Sangwon hums, a proud smile making its way onto his face. “My talented girl,” he presses a soft kiss to her temple, “Keep that up and you will be performing by eight.”
She giggles into his neck, and his heart swells with love at the sound. As much as he hates to admit, Mr. Exceptionally Cool and Kind and Perfect Teacher can easily bring out a side of Haeun that even Sangwon has a hard time evoking, a side that is rare to see. One that is all giggly, excited, carefree, loud, animated–the complete opposite of her usual quiet, shy demeanor. Sangwon has long accepted his daughter saw and took his introverted qualities and made it hers amplified by a thousand, nothing wrong with that, but at times it made him worried about all kinds of things, like whether she’s alright, or telling him everything, or how other people might perceive her, especially kids of the same age.
As she recently started school, his concerns increased even more. He wanted Haeun to have no trouble fitting in or making friends, but he knew it’s not easy doing that when you are shy and quiet. Turns out, his worries weren’t unfounded, since the first few weeks every time Sangwon asked her what she did in school, did she talk to anyone new, did she make any friends, the answers were all ‘no’ and ‘nothing’ and their varieties and while it didn’t seem like Haeun has had a particularly bad or difficult time, it still added a great pile of stress to his life. Worst thing is, Sangwon had no idea what to do about it, or even to do anything about it–constantly bothering her with the idea of making friends might make it an unnatural process and make her feel like he’s pressuring her, which he wanted to avoid at all costs. He couldn’t just barge into school and magically talk people into being friends with her either. It was entirely out of his control and he had a hard time accepting that–it has been just the two of them for so long and he could always make sure everything goes the way it’d benefit Haeun the most, but now that she’s starting to grow up, he can’t do anything about some things, but wait them out. It’s a fact that has been hard to swallow.
When Sangwon’s worries reached their peak, Mr. Exceptionally Cool and Kind and Perfect Teacher (whose actual name is Anxin, or whatever, Sangwon just prefers using the moniker in his head, because there he can allow himself to be a little petty) entered the picture. Haeun started attending group singing lessons around the same time she started school, an unusually blunt desire she expressed one weekend afternoon when they were at home, music faintly playing in the background. As she hummed along to the songs, a habit of hers that appeared more and more, Sangwon finally asked her if she likes singing, and if she wants to go to classes for it. He saw the way her eyes widened and brightened with realization that that is even a possibility that exists, and she questioned in her small voice, can I, please? and Sangwon was never known for being able to say no to his daughter–by the end of the day, she was signed up for class. For the first few weeks, she behaved as usual, generally enjoying her lessons, but it wasn’t like she was extremely excited about them. Then, their teacher went on maternity leave, and was replaced by a new one–Anxin.
The day Haeun first met her new teacher is a day that Sangwon will probably have a hard time forgetting–she was so bubbly and talkative, Sangwon’s brain had to take a good five minutes to process what was happening. She rambled on about how his voice is soooooooo pretty! and he’s so gentle, and soft-spoken (she didn’t say it exactly like that, but Sangwon got the gist of it), and he came from Sh… Shan’hai (Shanghai, Sangwon corrected her quietly, although it made no difference, since she was so thrilled she didn’t even hear it–to this day, she pronounces it like Shan’hai), and that is so. cool., and by the way, he’s also very pretty. (That last part made him stumble from shock while walking, because it is not everyday his daughter comments on people’s looks. She does often stare at him for a while and mumble mom’s the prettiest and it never fails in making Sangwon melt, but other than that it’s always just surprised notes on some details in people’s appearance, such as woah, her hair is pink or bringing attention to keychains on someone’s bag and similarities, never general descriptions like pretty.) Sangwon thought her excitement would be short-lived and soon disappear, after all it is only natural to be amazed when you meet someone you are interested in, but it continued and everyday when Sangwon picked her up after a singing lesson, she was all smiles, sunshine and sparkles.
By all means, Sangwon should have no problem with Anxin. If anything, he should have a positive opinion of him, he should be grateful–after all, based on Haeun’s stories, all he does is praise his daughter and make her happy, and anyone who does those cannot be a bad person in Sangwon’s eyes. Still, he cannot help, but feel a strange sense of possessiveness and envy, and blame himself for the fact that this stranger who has known his daughter for only a short amount of time can make her this cheerful, but he can’t, no matter how he tries. It’s an evil, tiring cycle of repetition, being happy and relieved that his daughter genuinely enjoys her time spent in her classes, then suddenly catching himself thinking she’s mine, only mine, as if someone is trying to take her away from him. Sangwon feels guilty, and knows those thoughts are probably unhealthy, but Haeun is truly all he has–it’s strange to suddenly be confronted with the reality that it might not be the same for his daughter.
They arrive at their apartment complex, snapping Sangwon out of his thoughts. He puts Haeun down, who is still as bubbly as before as she continues mumbling tunes under her nose, and reaches for Sangwon’s free hand, the one that is not busy opening the door, to swing their interlocked hands up and down. His lips quirk up at the cute gesture and he lightly pulls her into their home. She quickly fights off her shoes and places them neatly next to the door, then waddles away to change her clothes and Sangwon watches her small figure go. After that, he reaches for his neck, fingers hovering over his scent gland, tearing off the scent blockers and the relief is immediate. Sangwon hates wearing it, makes him feel all stuffy and groggy, but it is mandatory at his job as a dance instructor–they all get so warm and heated during classes, and pheromones get stronger in such situations. To avoid any incidents, they all must wear scent blockers, much to Sangwon’s dismay. Wearing it so much made him experience all kinds of symptoms, like his scent isn’t even that strong anymore, and he’s much easier to be overwhelmed when entering spaces where scent blockers aren’t mandatory, or sometimes his heats are irregular, or sometimes his body just entirely skips them. He should visit a doctor, but frankly, he’s too busy for it nowadays.
Their days with Haeun usually have a routine they are both already very accustomed to: in the mornings Sangwon wakes up early, gets ready for his day, then wakes Haeun up when it’s time and while she is getting ready for her own day, he makes her a small breakfast, then drops her off at school. In the afternoons, Sangwon tries picking her up on his own, but it’s not everyday he succeeds with that, considering his schedule can get pretty all over the place at the dance studio, depending on whether they have new projects for idols and artists coming up or not–those times, his best friend, Junseo, entertains her until Sangwon is finally free from his job. On the days she has her singing lessons, Sangwon tries sneaking out for a quick break to get her from school and bring her to her lessons. Once they get home, she does her homework, he cooks dinner, and they spend a quiet time together in their living room, either reading, or watching TV, or listening to each other tell stories about their day, or Sangwon trying to do different hairstyles on her whenever she is in the mood. It’s not particularly exciting, but it’s simple, and comfortable, and easy, and enough, and it’s been like that for forever–just the two of them, quietly living their life, with the occasional help from Junseo.
Lately, this ‘occasional help from Junseo’ turned into more-than-occassional. For some reason Sangwon is too busy to speculate about, every idol group under the sun decided to make a comeback in the upcoming few months, and they have been tasked with making way too many choreographies for his liking. On top of that, with the new school semester beginning, all parents in South Korea seemingly thought it is the only appropriate time for their children to be enrolled in dancing classes (Sangwon can’t even blame them for this thought process, because Haeun started singing classes the same time) and their studio ended up with more students and classes than expected, making their shortage of instructors painfully obvious. Sangwon had to take on teaching a few more classes, alongside working on new choreographies. Due to that, he has been asking Junseo to pick up Haeun almost everyday–ultimately the reason he has still not met Mr. Exceptionally Cool and Kind and Perfect Anxin.
He looks at his calendar, noting all the red marks on the upcoming week with a defeated sigh. Looks like next week is also a no, he thinks as he stretches his sore muscles lightly.
“Do you want anything specific for dinner, baby?” He sing-songs loudly, already taking a step towards the kitchen.
He spares one last glance at the calendar, his eyes accidentally dropping lower on it and catching on a day towards the end of the month. The ink under that date is blue, a standout from all the red. His eyebrows furrow.
“Can I have pasta?” Haeun peeks out of her room. Sangwon tears his gaze away from the blue writing, muttering an of course.
Almost forgot about my heat, he thinks a second later.
“We can probably leave earlier today,” Harry June, one of his coworkers, says and Sangwon forces himself to not jump out of his skin from joy and pretend that is not the best thing he has heard in weeks. “Just have to smooth out the details, then we are done.”
Sangwon nods, takes a sip from his water, opening his messages quickly in the short break they have.
sangwon:
we are finishing earlier today
so i can pick up haeun from her class
junseo hyung:
Okay!
Let me know if something changes though
sangwon:
of course~
junseo hyung:
You can finally meet Anxin too!
Oh. Sangwon was just simply happy he can finally live up to being a remotely good parent who can pick his daughter up at an appropriate time and completely forgot about meeting Mr. Exceptionally Cool and Kind and Perfect Anxin. He has no idea why Junseo sounds so excited about the prospect of them meeting, though.
“Let’s finish this up, and get the hell out of here,” he hears Harry June clap his hands together as he stands back up and walks to the center of the room again.
sangwon:
you’re right
i have to go
as always thank you for your help hyung
junseo hyung:
No worries:) You know I’m always happy to help, I love her too
Sangwon smiles at the message, then puts his phone down. He stretches his arms and neck, more excited than ever to just get back to work and finish the choreography. He can’t wait to see his baby–they spend every free minute of their day together, yet Sangwon never gets tired of her, and every time he sees her eyes lit up with recognition at the school gates and a soft smile take over her lips, it is a reward like no other.
He and Harry June spend an excruciating time finalizing everything, from formations down to the most miniscule details, and by the time they finish, Sangwon’s eyes widen in shock when he looks at the time and quickly realizes he needs to hurry, otherwise he will be late for Haeun. Not a big deal, but it’s been forever since he was the one who picked her up, and he doesn’t want to make her wait. In his exhausted, sore, sweaty state he bids farewell to Harry June, and bolts out of the building. He thanks the heavens above that his workplace is relatively close to Haeun’s school, so he only needs to pick up his pace.
His clothes stick to him uncomfortably, with his sweater only worn properly on one side, the other half lazily thrown over his shoulder (a dancer’s bad habit), his sweatpants hang low on his hips, and his hair keep bouncing around his face, unstyled–however, he doesn’t really care. Not, when he finally arrives and scans the crowd of parents and children, only to hear an excited “Mom!” behind him in his favourite voice in the whole world. Sangwon turns around, ready to say hi, but before he has the chance to do it, Haeun grabs his hand and starts dragging him somewhere. “Come, come!” She repeats, and Sangwon stumbles on his feet from surprise, but follows anyway.
She leads them to someone with dark hair, dark frames around his eyes, dark leather jacket. He just finishes saying goodbye to some children, when they reach him, and realization very slowly dawns on Sangwon.
Right, he thinks, I forgot. Again.
“Oh,” says the stranger who Sangwon now recognizes as Mr. Exceptionally Cool and Kind and Perfect Anxin. “You must be Haeunie’s–”
“Mom!” She finishes his sentence, her gaze excitedly switching back and forth between the two of them. Anxin looks down at Haeun beside Sangwon, and Sangwon watches as his previously sharp eyes soften and a dimple appears in his right cheek as he lets out an amused chuckle. One side of his mouth quirks up higher than the other, and it looks almost like a smirk. Sangwon shifts on his feet.
“Yup, exactly,” he addresses her, rather than Sangwon. A moment later, he looks back up, right into his eyes, and says, “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m the–her teacher, Zhou Anxin. Just Anxin’s fine, though.”
“Xinie!” Haeun says just to say something.
Anxin bites his lips to hold back a laugh at Haeun’s excited, but useless commentary. He stretches an arm out, a finger coming to tuck a hair strand behind her ear, then falling lower to poke her cheek. Haeun giggles, and something in Sangwon’s stomach shifts uncomfortably at the interaction. “Mhm, Xin’s fine too.”
God is what Sangwon’s brain unhelpfully provides, and he has to swallow to not blurt it out. Instead, he plasters a smile on his face, and settles with “I’m Sangwon. I heard so much about you from Haeun.”
The greeting is painfully formal and boring, but Sangwon’s state of mind is anything, but. He’s suddenly all too aware of how he probably looks like a mess, with his face all flushed from the hurry, and shame sinks deep into his gut even more when he notices Anxin’s gaze shift lower from his eyes, scanning his body for a brief second. Admittedly, this is not the state in which Sangwon planned to meet the man who he has been having one-sided fights for Haeun’s love and affection with for the past month.
Besides that, Sangwon discovers he still has more to learn about himself and the world. Because, despite never really wondering about it directly, he has unknowingly assumed Anxin would be… well, an omega. Thing is, the world is not as progressive as everyone claims it to be, and teaching positions still heavily favor omegas, because they are ‘naturally better with children’ and Haeun’s descriptions did not help–it is not everyday you hear an alpha being described as soft-spoken, and gentle, and pretty.
However, Sangwon’s senses, body, bones, his whole entire being knows that Anxin is, undoubtedly, an alpha. He might not be the exact image of the alphas you can read about in cheesy romcoms, the ones that are three times the size of an average person, hovering over you intimidatingly and their voice is scarily deep and raspy, but he is an alpha in his own rights. He knows it, because omegas (and alphas) don’t need a declaration, or physical cues, to recognize when someone is like them–or not like them.
Another thing his brain decided to make a huge deal of, the most obvious thing anyone can notice: he’s handsome. Like, impossibly so. Sangwon works with all kinds of famous people, dancers and singers, who are all more and more beautiful than the last, so meeting a good-looking person should not come as a surprise–but apparently his daughter’s singing teacher, the one she is obsessed with, a regular person just like him who works approximately five streets away, is good-looking enough to make his brain shut down. He thinks back on how unusual it was for her to comment on his general appearance, her calling him very pretty, and looking at the man in front of Sangwon now, it makes too much sense.
“Oh? Haeunie talks about me?” He asks playfully, his arm once again reaching out to play around with her. She latches onto it, grabs it as if it was her lifeline, with sparkling bright eyes. Her small hand easily gets lost in his big one for a moment, then he opens his fist, letting her mess around with his fingers and palm any way she wants to, bending and poking all over.
“Only good things,” Sangwon answers without going into the details. His eyes remain on his daughter, watching just how obvious the adoration on her face is. “I hope she isn’t too much trouble. Usually she’s really shy, but she really likes…,” he pauses, biting back the you. “Singing. She’s always excited to come here.”
“She’s no trouble, none at all,” Anxin answers. Hearing his voice, Sangwon finally looks back up at him, and finds his eyes already on Sangwon. For a second, he asks himself just how long he had been looking at him–he is strangely flustered under his gaze, even though it’s rare that Sangwon gets shy. It feels as if he was caught doing something he shouldn’t, although he was only looking at his daughter. “She’s so cute and funny. Talented, too.” His lips form a smile, still holding the eye contact. “I always wondered who could’ve raised her so well. Now I see where she gets it from–her beauty, too.”
Sangwon blinks once, twice. His thoughts quiet down, contemplating if he did not just mishear or misunderstand anything–and if he didn’t, he fully plans on ignoring the flutter in his stomach, and the heat that rushes to his head. He is about to muster up a chuckle, and divert the topic, or give him a polite thank you and brush it off, when: "I'm pretty, but mom’s prettier,” Haeun interrupts. “The prettiest!”
Oh, God.
Anxin laughs, loud, but not in any way sarcastic. “You both can be the prettiest.”
“Can we?” She asks, tone dripping with genuine curiosity.
“Of course,” he says. “Just the prettiest in different ways.”
Jesus. “I’m–We–Thank you,” Sangwon fumbles to end the conversation, ears red. “I’m glad Haeun isn’t giving you any difficulty–” Haeun quietly huffs I’m not beside him, grabbing onto his sweatpants after she’s done playing with Anxin’s hand. Sangwon looks down at her, eyebrows raised. He has no idea where the sudden bratty, proud persona is coming from, but he guesses that must be another result of having Anxin around–his presence seems to bring all kinds of sides out of her. When he looks up, Anxin has an amused expression on his face. “And that you think she is funny, and cute. And talented. That’s nice to hear.”
Anxin hums, continues watching him with a smile on his face, head tilted, and Sangwon decides alright, time to go. “Me and Haeun should go now. You must have something to return to, we don’t want to hold you up.”
Haeun pouts and whines sadly, as if it hurts her to even talk about the idea of separating from Anxin. Sangwon suddenly questions if Junseo has ever had any problems while picking her up, even if he never mentioned it.
“Not holding me up at all, but alright,” Anxin answers. He reaches into the pocket of his jeans, “Before you go. Could I have your number?” He pulls out his phone, holding it towards Sangwon. He stares at it, unsure, and Anxin must notice his hesitation, because he chuckles, then says, “Just in the case of emergency. I also have Junseo hyung’s. No other intentions.” Sangwon’s lips part in understanding, hand reaching for the phone, and when he’s already grabbing it, he hears, “I mean, no other intentions, unless you want me to.”
Sangwon tries to hold it back, but he can’t help letting out a laugh, finding the situation unbelievable. The thing is, Anxin is… handsome, seemingly genuine and earnest, Haeun loves him and he seems to reciprocate that love. He should have no problem with the idea of him courting him, but it’s been long, too long since Sangwon tried to commit to anything serious–and anything that is not serious cannot happen between them. Not, when he is Haeun’s teacher first and foremost, and not, when Sangwon always has his daughter and the best for her as his first priority.
Still, he takes the phone and starts typing his number, and tells himself because of Haeun, when he does.
Life works in wondrous ways, and that is all Sangwon can blame when a gust of wind blows by, an undeniable effect of spring, and his nose gets hit with a scent he hasn’t noticed before. Something floral, but still musky–it’s almost like Sangwon’s own, except his is softer, warmer, less musky. His hand freezes mid-typing as he realizes just who it is coming from.
He briefly wonders if the scent blocker on his neck is still doing its job after hours of dancing, or it has weakened enough for it being there to not matter anymore, for his scent to leak through. He wonders if Anxin can smell him too, and if he can, does he also think their scents complement each other perfectly?
“You can decide that yourself,” Sangwon says, handing the phone back to him.
It’s as much a yes, I want you to as Anxin can get.