Jaebum blinks awake slowly to the sound of birds chirping outside their window.

He starts a little, remembering where he is, looking at the windowsill quickly to confirm that sunlight is, indeed, pouring in through the sheer curtains.

Cursing a little, he struggles out of bed, head pounding, almost knocking over a lamp and a bottle of water on the bedside table in the process-…

…-before the door opens by a crack, and someone peeks in.

“Hyung?”

There’s a moment of silent observation.

Then Jinyoung breaks out into laughter at Jaebum, currently tangled in sheets, and the older man huffs.

“It’s daylight,” he croaks, and Jinyoung gives him a look.

“You didn’t honestly think I’d let you go to work after what you pulled yesterday, right?” he scoffs, pulling him back down onto the bed, pressing a cool hand against Jaebum’s forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” Jaebum admits. Jinyoung hisses a little in pain as he settles on the bed, then, however, and the older man jumps to attention at once, fully awake in a second. He gently eases Jinyoung’s leg over the space between them to get a look at the now peeling burn on his foot, skin still red and scarred from blisters.

“How’s your foot?” Jaebum brushes a thumb over his ankle, and Jinyoung pulls his leg away.

“That tickles,” Jinyoung snipes, smacking his hand. “It’s fine, just a little tender. I’m just glad you came back when you did, though a little less freaking out would’ve been appreciated.”

“The pot fell on your leg and got boiling soup all over your foot, how was I not supposed to freak out?” Jaebum scowls. “I can’t believe you still wanted to go get the car last night, with your foot like this.”

“I suppose,” Jinyoung says, rolling his eyes. “And, fine, yeah, Mark and Jackson did call last night about that- they were at the hospital in town, you know, for Bam’s last check up for that gash he got from our table that night.”

“How’s he doing now?” Jaebum asks, concerned, and Jinyoung chuckles.

“He cried a lot when the doctor changed his dressing, but then they found him wheedling candy out of the nurse outside with aegyo later, so he’s fine,” he smiles. “It rained pretty heavily last night, apparently- started in town, then spread over to the residential areas over here, so they got stuck at the hospital for a bit, waiting it out. Good thing they called- I was about to leave when they did, but driving in the rain with my foot like this didn’t seem all that great of an idea,” Jinyoung pulls a face. “Junho-hyung can wait.”

“Yeah, you tell him that when he starts flooding me with texts,” Jaebum grumbles, rubbing his eyes blearily.

Something clangs outside, then, followed by the patter of little footsteps, and Jaebum looks up at once, grinning, trying to look past the door.

Jinyoung’s smiling widely all of a sudden, hurrying to the door. “I almost forgot,” he says sheepishly, before sliding out through the crack, like he’s trying to hide something outside. “Come on,” he beckons mischievously. “Someone’s got something to show you~”

Jaebum pretends to sigh, taking his time to drink from the bottle on their nightstand, listening to the whispers outside of quick, Daddy’s coming out, and the excited scampering across the floor, before finally getting up, pushing the door open with a smile.

Everything freezes for a moment, like the scene needs a moment to configure properly in Jaebum’s sleep-ridden mind. Then-…

“SURPRISE!” He doesn’t even have to fake the pleasant surprise, here- not when there’s a table prettily laid out with a full breakfast, complete with a full pot of coffee, and nearest to him, an omelette on a plate, messily decorated to form a smiley face with ketchup and a sausage, and Jaebum claps, breaking out into a wide smile, striding over to the other side of the living room.

In one movement, as always, he sweeps Youngjae up into his arms, kissing the boy’s cheek, eliciting a high-pitched laugh as he tries vainly to scrub it off.

“Did you make this?” he asks Youngjae, looking to Jinyoung once for confirmation, and the boy giggles, pressing his face into Jaebum’s neck.

“Jae here helped me spread butter on all the bread, didn’t you?” Jinyoung reaches over to ruffle Youngjae’s hair, nuzzling his cheek. “And with the washing of the fruits, and cracking the eggs, right?”

“Yeah!” Youngjae wriggles out of Jaebum’s grasp, then, pattering over to the table, pointing at the plate with the omelette with a shy smile. “I made that for you, Daddy! I mixed the eggs! And Papa did this, and this, and…” he trails off, little finger pointing at the chopped fruits, apparently deep in thought. “And I helped him peel the apples!”

“All grown up now,” Jaebum presses another big, wet kiss on the side of Youngjae’s face, wrapping him in a bear hug, and the little boy laughs, used to this game by now. “Now I have to thank two people for this meal,” he bows to Jinyoung, then to Youngjae, who jumps on the spot, eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Now if you’re done, we pretty much starved waiting for you to wake up,” Jinyoung rolls his eyes as he pulls out Youngjae’s chair, before going to his own, and starting to pour himself a cup of coffee.

“Daddy was tired, it’s okay,” Youngjae explains absently, getting into his seat, and Jinyoung scoffs, while Jaebum grins, spraying a huge swirl of whipped cream from the canister onto a pancake, before setting it on the boy’s plate.

(They eventually settle down to have a good meal, and Jinyoung complains that Youngjae’s becoming more like Jaebum every day.

“It’s the eye-centered mole,” he declares. “I’m all alone now, because both of you can’t appreciate a good book every now and then.”

Jaebum and Youngjae do their super complicated secret fistbump under the table then, and Jinyoung pretends not to notice.)

*

Jaebum’s pulling the final jacket Jinyoung had forced onto him tighter around his shoulders as he steps down into the lobby, feeling much better after that three hour nap he’d taken after accepting his fate that he wouldn’t be able to go in to work today.

“Might as well get the car,” he’d yawned, after promising that he felt a lot better, but apparently not enough for Jinyoung to let him go out of the house without stuffing him into three layers of clothing, despite the afternoon sun.

A commotion outside their lobby door draws his attention- he sees the flash of bright orange construction workers’ jackets, and yellow hard hats, and walks slowly to the doorway, frowning a little.

“Sorry, is something happening here?” he asks, glancing at the workers- a group of them are hefting a bench onto a truck. They’re dismantling the benches in front of the apartment, Jaebum realises.

“Yeah, sorry about the noise,” the head worker shrugs. “A tree fell down last night and caused some damage, so higher-ups decided to take the opportunity to just switch this place up to a basketball court. Apparently these benches have been around since forever, so instead of repairing them, why not change, you know?” he gestures to the grassy patch vaguely with his clipboard. “Move on.”

Jaebum blinks, drawing his jacket closer towards him.

“Huh,” he watches them carry the second last bench away- there’s just one left now: the worn-looking one in the centre, under an old streetlamp and facing the street, now being swarmed by workers armed with shovels and electric screwdrivers, one holding a tow hook attached to one of the construction vehicles on the pavement. “I didn’t think it needed heavy machinery.”

“Just this one,” the head worker squints. “Probably stuck, after all those years. You might want to stand back a bit, sir.”

The workers clear the area, and the vehicle ahead starts to steamroll ahead, dark clouds of exhaust choking the air behind, and Jaebum watches, fascinated, as the metal chain becomes taut, pulling on the bench.

It takes one second, two, then with a tremendous groan of metal and the whip crack of breaking wood, the bench is torn out of the ground. Some of the wood splinters, dragging across the ground, so half of it is dangling behind pathetically by a peeling strip.

“Well, that’s that,” the head worker says, disinterested. The moment is over- the workers pull apart the two broken pieces, discarding them in the back of the truck with the other old benches. “Not like these things were ever much use to anyone,” he looks over at Jaebum conversationally, as the rest of the workers take down the streetlight next, lowering it to the ground after hacking its foundation. “You ever sit on one of these? Or know anyone in this whole street who did?” he rolls his eyes, like the idea is preposterous.

Jaebum shrugs. “No.”

“Thought so,” the head worker chuckles, before nodding towards the now clear path. “Watch your step, sir. Have a good day.”

“You too,” Jaebum walks down the steps towards the road, carefully avoiding the workers’ movements.

He does turn back to give the area one last glance, though- the patches of brown earth are raw, where the grass has been ripped from the ground, almost like the soil is bleeding onto the surrounding meanders of green.

Then Jaebum chuckles at the ridiculous thought, heading towards the bus stop, thinking about the Math problem Youngjae had had difficulty with this morning and bristling at how he’d had to call Jinyoung in for help.

*

They go for a special dinner that night, all three of them, after Jaebum gets back with the car, and as Youngjae bounds into the backseat, Pororo knapsack bouncing on his shoulders, Jinyoung stares at the now empty area in front of the complex.

“They removed the benches,” he observes, and Jaebum grunts, unconcerned- the entire car smells of ddeokbokki, and he has half a mind to back out on his barbeque and soju promise to Junho.

Jinyoung looks like he’s got more on his mind, but then Jaebum’s turning around, making sure Youngjae’s wearing his seat belt, and the other man doesn’t say a word for the rest of the ride, staring in silence out the window.

Jaebum’s used to it by now, though- he knows the other man just needs time to think, time to remember and reflect, and it’s not his business to pry, he tells himself.

They end up at a neighbourhood shopping complex for their dinner, a peaceful, amiable affair,as usual. Youngjae asks excitedly for his favourite bubblegum ice cream once they’re done, however, hence landing them near one of the foodstalls at the basement in their search for ice cream.

Jaebum’s loitering to look at a DVD display while Jinyoung and Youngjae buy ther ice cream up ahead when he happens to notice a little boy standing just a few feet away, drowning in an oversized brown winter coat, fraying and stained in odd places, staring at him from the milkshake bar.

He chuckles- kids do stare sometimes, and he’s learned the best thing to do is smile and wave at them. When he does, though, he’s alarmed- instead of smiling shyly and running to his mom or dad, the boy’s eyes light up in a genuine, open smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that reminds him strangely of Jinyoung’s. Jaebum takes an actual step back as the boy starts walking up towards him, reaching out, mouth opening as if to address him-…

“Daddy?”

Jaebum lets out a disbelieving chuckle. “I’m-…I’m not your father, kid.”

He takes another step back, arms folded in front of him awkwardly, as the boy keeps getting closer, looking around for some sign of the boy’s parents. “I’m-…” he addresses the child again, in half a whisper, now looking at him, confused. “I don’t know you, I’m not your father.”

The child’s just staring, now, seemingly rooted to where he’s standing.

“Hyung?” Then it’s Jinyoung, back with Youngjae, holding his cup of ice cream. He glances at Jaebum, about to snicker. “Didn’t think you’d be able to make friends so fast, or at all, to be honest,” he looks at the boy, staring in wide-eyed wonder at him, and smiles gently. “Hey there, are you lost? Where’s your mom?”

The boy looks confused, now, staring from Jaebum, to Jinyoung, then to Youngjae, little fingers winding around a stray thread in his jacket, probably a nervous habit.

“Maybe he wants some ice cream, Papa,” Youngjae says hopefully, scooping a spoon of it and sticking his arm out. “Dongsaengie-yah, have some ice cream!”

The boy stands there, just staring, to the point Jaebum starts to feel uncomfortable, wrapping an arm around Youngjae’s shoulders and murmuring to him. “Jae, I don’t think the little boy wants ice cream.”

There’s a sniff, and Jaebum sees Jinyoung start next to him, alarmed, as hot tears start to roll down the little boy’s cheeks- his eyes are red-rimmed now, grieved lines appearing in his youthful face, but his lips are pressed together tight, like he’s trying not to cry.

“What’s wrong, why are you crying?” Jinyoung says, alarmed, reaching over, arms outstretched, and for a moment it looks like the child’s about to run forward into his arms, when-…

“Yugyeom!”

Jaebum’s utterly relieved when a woman rushes up, dragging a reluctant older boy behind her in one hand. “I’m so sorry,” she apologises. “He’s never been quite right in the head, he’s always dreaming and wandering off-…he didn’t do anything, did he?”

“No, he was fine,” Jaebum says, trying to laugh it off, as the boy blinks, more tears rolling down his face. “Just-…he called me Daddy-…maybe I look like your husband?”

The woman stiffens, and immediately Jaebum senses he must’ve said something wrong- the other boy whose hand she’s holding speaks up defensively.

“We don’t have a father.”

“Hush,” the woman grabs the little boy’s hand, averting Jaebum’s eyes. “Sorry, please excuse us.”

As they’re leaving, in a hurry, Jaebum can hear the woman scolding the first boy in a harsh whisper- don’t make my life harder than it already is, Yugyeom, or I’ll wish I’d just gone through with it- and Jaebum glances first at Jinyoung, staring after the family with a lost sort of look in his eyes, and then at Youngjae, clinging onto Jaebum’s shirt with one hand, the other still holding his ice cream, looking nervous and a little scared.

“Why was the boy crying, Daddy?” they’re forced to move on as a crowd of people come out of the restaurant behind them, and Jaebum shrugs, reaching over to take Jinyoung’s hand reassuringly upon noting the upset look on the other man's face, patting Youngjae’s back with the other.

“I don’t know,” Jaebum mutters, prodding Youngjae when he tries to turn back to look, glancing over to give Jinyoung the same meaningful, warning look.

"Hyung, don't you think-..." Jinyoung glances back over the crowd of people, eyes wide and worried, and Jaebum pulls his hand, moving them forward. 

“Don’t look, Jinyoungie," he clears his throat, looking straight ahead. "It’s not our business to pry.”

FIN