The parking lot is blanketed in that 2 am silence, where every movement seems muffled and slow. Yawning blearily, Jimin pulls into the closest available spot and throws the car into park. Thankfully, little Jihoo is sound asleep in his car seat. His interminable fussing and crying were slowly rocked into sweet silence by the quiet rumbling of the engine ten minutes into the drive.

 

Jimin is about to ruin that by getting him out, but he can’t leave his kid in the car. Some other shopper would see how cute he is and kidnap him, not to mention it’s below freezing outside.

 

“Stay asleep, stay asleep, stay asleep,” he chants softly, ever-so-carefully unbuckling and unsnapping the car seat from the base. He expertly tucks Jihoo’s favorite blanket around him, up to his chin, and lovingly adjusts the baby’s Batman beanie. He looks like a tiny, bundled up meat bun. Hopefully the cold won’t wake him.

 

“Jihoo, you cute lil’ monster,” Jimin mumbles, doing his best to extract the ungainly seat without whacking it on the door frame, something he’s done more times than he can count. “Let’s go get some food for baby and some food for daddy.” The door is shut with the barest thud and click. Sighing with relief when Jihoo doesn’t stir, Jimin pockets his keys and slogs to the door, trying not to bump the carrier with his leg.

 

Despite the late hour, he finds himself following someone inside through the snow and slush. It looks to be a guy in a hoodie, so like he always does when Jihoo is with him, Jimin goes into instant suspicious-alert mode.

 

If anyone tries to hurt his kid, he will kick them in the shins until they die.

 

This guy is extra questionable based on his appalling lack of proper winter attire. A hoodie! People have frozen to death in more.

 

The man –very unsuspiciously- enters the front doors and grabs the nearest cart. It’s not until Jimin drags his suspicious eyes away from the man’s back that he realizes that the last cart is quickly rolling away under the hands of Mr. Hoodie.

 

Jimin clutches Jihoo’s carrier and blinks in despair.

 

“Oh, hey.”

 

He startles from his anguished stupor by slightly-suspicious hoodie man, who’s turned back, one hand on the cart.

 

“Wuh?” Jimin half-grunts in surprise.

 

“You can have my cart,” Mr. Hoodie offers, pulling it back toward Jimin. “I’ll go grab another one. I can see your hands are full.” He smiles and Jimin knows he’s just found Jesus on Earth. The second coming of Christ is here and now.

 

“Are you sure?” Jimin asks, switching the heavy carrier to his other hand. Little Jihoo is slumbering away, chubby face almost completely hidden behind his hat and blanket.

 

“Of course,” the man assures him, taking a step away from the glorious cart.

 

Jimin bites the inside of his cheek. A hoodie is really too sad to bear.

 

“Wait!”

 

The meat bun wiggles and Jimin freezes in for a second. “Wait,” he repeats in a much quieter voice. “You shouldn’t go back in that cold hell in just a hoodie. We can share. I’ve got a short list.”

 

“Are you-“

 

“Yes, c’mon. This child is literally growing before my eyes. He’ll be in first grade before you get back over here if you keep dawdling.” Jimin easily lifts the car seat to the cart and makes sure it’s secure before setting off, the newly-introduced Yoongi by his side.

 

It’s only as they reach the bananas, which both men need, that a thought occurs to Jimin. If he needed to buy anything embarrassing, this would be quite the exercise in humiliation. As it stands, he can’t help but take note of and judge everything Yoongi puts into his side of the cart: bananas (low on postassium or just a fan of fruit?), a seven pound bag of Starburst candy (??), juice (a compensation for a diet of candy?), granola bars (not the healthy kind), coffee beans (who grinds their own damn coffee?), three, no four boxes of noodles, a carton of six eggs (now we’re getting to real food), and a choice cut of beef.

 

Not that anything Jimin’s putting in the cart is that much better.

 

Jihoo generously remains asleep until the bread aisle. While heading for the croutons, an essential ingredient that makes salads worth eating, Jimin accidentally catches the corner of the cart on a display. The wheels screech and poor Jihoo is jarred awake, blinking up at his dad with vaguely irritated yet curious baby eyes.

 

Jimin makes sure to smile down at him because showing a child you’re upset just clues them in that they should be upset too, so Jimin smiles and says, “Sorry about that, lil’ guy.” He lets the waving fist catch his finger and rubs his thumb over the soft knuckles. “How about we go back to sleep and let Dad finish shopping?”

 

Always contrary and not likely to understand human speech, Jihoo cranes his head as best as he’s able (not much) to get a better view of Yoongi. Yoongi, who to his credit, doesn’t look petrified at the sight of a conscious, spit-bubble blowing, wiggly meat bun with grabby hands. If anything, he’s smiling.

 

Jimin totally catches it when he sticks his tongue out at Jihoo and scrunches his face up. Jihoo flails excitedly and Jimin makes a quick grab for the croutons while they’re both distracted.

 

“I see you’ve met Jihoo,” he comments, dumping two bags into the cart.

 

Yoongi doesn’t reach out to touch Jihoo, something Jimin’s grateful for. Many other people aren’t so considerate; they seem to view the baby as a doll or adorable toy instead of a person with boundaries and a protective father that will splatter you if you step out of line with his kid.

 

However, Mr. Hoodie Yoongi says, “He’s pretty much the cutest kid I’ve ever seen in my life,” smiles completely unsuspiciously, and lopes down the aisle to procure a loaf of bread.

 

Well, of course, Jimin thinks, because he totally is! He boops Jihoo’s nose and the baby protests with nonsensical babble.

 

They’re scooting along the baby supply aisle when Yoongi, who’s been sleepily silent most of the time asks, “So what’s got you out so late? His mom send you?”

 

It takes Jimin a long second to realize that Yoongi’s referring to Jihoo’s mom aka Jimin’s girlfriend/wife/partner. “Oh ho ho, God no!” Jimin chuckles. He should be used to the assumption that there’s a baby momma attached to their unit of two, but it catches him off guard because he can’t imagine sharing Jihoo with anyone else full time.

 

“No other daddy or mommy in the picture. Just a Jihoo crew of two!” He fist bumps Jihoo, who isn’t old enough to really understand or actively participate yet. “Seeing as I don’t have s and Jihoo needs to eat, when the formula’s out, you gotta go to the store no matter what time it is.”

 

“Oh,” Yoongi says, turning away and poking at a package of diapers. “Sorry for asking. It isn’t really my business.”

 

“Don’t worry about it. I couldn’t be prouder of being a single parent, anyway.” Jimin easily waves the apology away. “I’ll just poke into your business and we’ll be even. Why are you shopping at two in the morning?”

 

Yoongi chuckles and shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets. “My shift at my second job ends at two and I left a few minutes early this morning. I’d rather shop now while I’m still awake than get up early tomorrow and do it before work.”

 

“Ah, that makes sense. that you have to work until the ugly hours of the morning, though.”

 

Shrugging, Yoongi just says, “I’m used to it.”

 

They fall into a comfortable silence. Yoongi makes more faces at Jihoo and Jimin tries to remember everything on his list.

 

When they both agree they’re done, the pair meanders to the cashier and pay separately. Jimin loads the bags into the cart and waits for Yoongi to finish with the cashier and catch up.

 

“You can grab your groceries if you want, or I can take the cart to your car,” Jimin offers. He re-tucks Jihoo’s blanket around his sides and arms and tugs his tiny black hat down over his eyebrows. The baby squirms, but he can’t escape the burrito of blankets.

 

“No, just go to your car,” Yoongi says, huddling further into his hoodie.

 

Jimin just shrugs, zips his coat up to his chin, and pushes the cart out the doors into a blast of icy cold wind. Jihoo whines but doesn’t begin to cry, thank the lord. The cart bumps and shakes as it’s shoved through the accumulating snow, making Jimin extra careful. He doesn’t care if he dumps the groceries, but he’d die if he tipped the cart over with Jihoo in it. Yoongi holds onto the side to help hold it steady despite the fact it must be turning his fingers into flesh popsicles and Jimin’s a bit grateful.

 

When they arrive at his beat up car, Jimin pulls his keys from his back pocket and unstraps Jihoo’s carrier from the cart. The quicker he’s inside the car and out of the wind, the better.

 

“If you pop the trunk, I’ll pack your groceries while you get him in his car seat,” Yoongi says, breathing hot air onto his fingers.

 

“Thank you!” Jimin opens the trunk and hurries around the side to get Jihoo settled.

 

The trunk lid is closed before he’s done and a glance out the back windshield shows Yoongi standing and looking the other way with two bags of groceries hanging from his wrist.

 

When Jihoo’s secure, Jimin hastily shuts the door and circles back around to Yoongi.

 

“Thank you,” Jimin says sincerely. “Thanks for the cart and the help. And entertaining Jihoo. You made this trip ten times easier than it had any right to be.”

 

“It’s no problem,” Yoongi replies. “It was nice to meet both of you. Stay safe on your way home.” He smiles endearingly, dips his head in a nod, and jogs a few parking spaces over to his own car. Jimin waves before darting into the driver’s seat of his clunker, jamming the key into the ignition and cranking it. It’s a hellish winter wonderscape out here.

 

As he’s driving home, he thinks that maybe he shouldn’t be so suspicious of every stranger he runs into.

 

As he’s unpacking his groceries in the kitchen, he finds two receipts. One is his, but the other lists a seven pound bag of Starbursts, four boxes of noodles, and expensive coffee beans, among other things. Definitely not his. There’s a phone number clearly printed on the back in pen. Also not his.

 

He can’t help the grin that slowly spreads across his face or the hand that automatically goes up to cover it. So maybe he should be suspicious of strangers and their shady ulterior motives after all.

 

 

 

***Four years later***

 

Jimin stepped away from the cart a second ago and now his arms are full of an ungodly number of noodle packages. Out of his peripheral vision, he catches a glimpse of downy brown hair darting the other direction. “Jihoo!” he calls, trying not to make a scene but also get his demon child to hear him. “Jihoo! Get back here!”

 

His plea is ignored and the boy disappears around the corner of the aisle. “Lord help me,” Jimin mutters, dumping the noodles into the cart. He spins it around, practically putting it up on two wheels, and starts for the end of the aisle.

 

“Yoongi!” he shouts quietly.

 

Not a second later, Yoongi pops around the corner with a bag of croutons and a baby in the crook of one arm and the back of Jihoo’s shirt in the other hand. Jihoo’s pouting and clinging to Yoongi’s leg.

 

“Daaaad,” the boy moans, heartbroken that his grand adventure was cut abruptly short.

 

Yoongi looks down and disentangles his leg from the Jihoo’s octopus-like grip. “Don’t ‘Dad’ me,” he says. “Now take this bag and put it in the cart before I drop your sister.”

 

Jihoo reluctantly takes the croutons and manages to get them into the cart on his tip toes.

 

“Nice catch,” Jimin smiles. “I can hold her if your arm’s getting tired.”

 

“Please,” Yoongi groans. Jihoo hangs from the front of the cart as the baby’s exchanged.

 

Yoongi drops a kiss on Jimin and their daughter’s cheeks before taking control of the cart. “I think all we need is soy sauce and rice and we’ll be good.”

 

“Thank goodness,” Jimin says. “You know, considering we met at a grocery store, I should like shopping more, but I hate it.”

 

“You’re not the only one,” Yoongi laughs. He sticks his tongue out at Jihoo, who sticks his out right back, and turns the corner with Jimin and the baby close behind.