the sound of wind biting the edge of their building is what wakes yoongi up in the middle of december. he’s finally on vacation. the last of his christmas songs, cheesy as they were, have been sent off to be edited by another songwriter and checked over. he doesn’t have much work to do anymore around this time, which is fine by him. he doesn’t want to leave his house, most of the time.

jungkook is off work too, and they both sleep in and spend their days with their daughter. they’re both strangely awake, shaken by the sounds outside of some blizzard, and jungkook is drawing characters on yoongi’s bare chest. their bed is warm.

“we should make a blanket fort today,” jungkook comments, looking up at him and grinning. “what do you think?”

“i’m twenty-nine,” yoongi mutters. “i think that’s a little too old for blanket forts.”

“what else are we going to do, hm?” jungkook rolls over so his body weight is on top of yoongi’s. yoongi’s eyes stray to the hollow of his throat. “what would you do, have all day?”

“doesn’t sound too bad,” yoongi scoffs, expecting jungkook’s flick to the forehead and taking it in stride.

“c’mon - we can practice for when hana can walk.”

“we should practice walking with her anyway,” yoongi states. “she’s going to be nine months by the end of the month, right? shouldn’t she start walking by january?”

“you have great faith in our daughter,” says jungkook, voice muffled. “twelve months, i think it is. when she starts walking by herself, at least. we’re gonna practice with her.” eventually.

yoongi huffs out a laugh, imagining hayoung’s little legs tumbling across the floor. then, he turns a little nostalgic. “god, our little girl is going to be walking.”

“next thing you know, she’s going to be graduating and getting married and saying goodbye,” jungkook elaborates on his thought. yoongi doesn’t want to say that part out loud, but it was exactly what he was thinking. “i’m not looking forward to it, honestly.”

“it’s a wonder how your parents let you go,” yoongi muses. he brushes aside jungkook’s bangs. “i don’t think i’d ever be able to do it.”

“we’ll have to eventually,” jungkook looks at the little crib in their room. hayoung is sleeping. the stars glitter above her. “besides, i think i’d want her to live life after we raise her to appreciate it.”

yoongi runs a hand down jungkook’s shoulder. in his hair, he murmurs, “you’re a wonderful father.”

it’s a reassurance, a comfort to him; to let him hear the words that he’s been dying to hear ever since they brought hayoung home: you’re doing well. their daughter is growing up healthy and active, happy and loved.

jungkook links their fingers together. “ditto.”

/

they do end up building a blanket fort, hayoung in her rocker with tchaikovsky once again playing in the background. jungkook hauls all the blankets from their bed and the pillows as well as the extra pillows in the closet, the quilts, the afghans. there’s the yellow and red patched quilt that taehyung made for them, and the pillow that yoongi’s mother embroidered with cherry blossom petals all in the messy pile on the floor. jungkook beams and tugs at yoongi’s shoulder.

“c’mon, choose where to start first!” he exclaims, gesturing to the pillows.

they build up a little hut with the pillows, using the blankets as a rooftop. the light’s been dimmed, so it casts a sweet glow on them when they’re inside. it’s big enough for both of them to cuddle up together and relax, their vision allowing them to simultaneously watch television and keep an eye on hayoung. she’s been watching her parents fight and hit each other with pillows, roll around on the ground, and then shrieks with glee when yoongi grabs jungkook by the ankle and drags him down into the hut.

“it’s fort yoonkook,” jungkook announces solemnly, even ripping a piece of paper from yoongi’s notepad (left on the couch) and putting it in front of the fort. “the only people allowed in shall be those persons who are associated with the yoonkook family.”

“did that take you effort to come up with, babe?” yoongi snorts, yelling when jungkook dives his whole body into yoongi’s side in retaliation.

“you wanna keep this for the day?” he laughs, tugging at yoongi’s dark hair. “ah, i miss your blondeness.”

“that was a long time ago,” yoongi snorts. “and yeah, why not? might as well.” he’s not spending more energy on tearing this thing down, that’s for sure.

“you looked good blonde,” jungkook hums. yoongi hears his heartbeat through his palms.

/

the snow finally calms down from it’s previous blizzard state into light drizzles as the weeks go by. yoongi takes toward wearing this one sweater he bought while out in incheon for a previous business trip, loving how warm and soft it is until it stretches and fades in the wash, signs of good use.

hayoung is bundled up constantly now, always wearing socks and caps in various patterns. jungkook gets her a blanket with a reindeer on it. he even buys a tiny santa hat for her plush elephant, which she constantly tears off and throws.

yoongi gets her another rattle. she enjoys it immensely, loving how it makes sounds. she also likes throwing it at yoongi’s feet for him to pick up. she finds pleasure in it, so yoongi endures.

/

jungkook is feeding hayoung while yoongi’s away at work. he knows so because jungkook is sending him pictures and videos of hayoung, shaky while he’s doing it with one hand, but it makes yoongi smile stupidly in the middle of his sessions. he’s started to foray into teaching kids how to rap and how to become more eloquent, which means more hours, but also more money.

in one video, jungkook whispers, “this is the plane, hana. you have to get the plane before it flies away. plane, plane! whoosh!” and he’s flying around the spoon in hayoung’s face. she grabs for it, squealing, yelling “dadada” while it goes into . she looks inordinately too happy to be eating peas and squash.

another video jungkook sends and he’s laughing, phone camera shaking, and hayoung is banging the spoon against her booster seat. she purses her lips and makes tiny sounds that imitate the whoosh that jungkook made earlier.

“hana-yah, give it to daddy,” jungkook asks, holding out a palm, and hayoung stares at it, wide-eyed, before handing it over. when jungkook makes a big deal out of it - his voice going up in surprise and wonder, obviously overdoing it for her sake - she claps her hands.

yoongi is never focused at work anymore. how can he be, when he gets stuff like this every few hours? his coworkers don’t even berate him for doing it anymore, just slyly smirk at him and say, “we like seeing you smile, yoongi-ssi. you’re always so serious, it’s nice to know there’s a loving side of you too!”

yoongi gives his darkest scowl at that, but they all seem unfazed now that they know how much of a er he is for jungkook and hayoung.

well, he thinks as he watches another video of jungkook coaxing hayoung to walk with her body against the sofa, it’s not like it’s a bad thing.

/

by the time their christmas party gets around, jungkook is a frazzled mess. he cleans the house twice over to make sure it’s all nice, changes hayoung’s clothes three times, and forces yoongi to comb his hair. at some point, the entire island that separates their kitchen and their living room is covered in dishes, and yoongi’s head feels numb.

“kookie,” yoongi says, pushing aside jungkook’s hands when they try to put a tie on him, “babe - please. calm down. you made enough stuff and your mom is probably going to bring more, so - “

“jin-hyung, too - “

“yeah, oh god,” yoongi has a brief moment to mourn his stomach later on tonight. “but everything is fine. i helped set up the tree so it won’t fall, hayoung is happy and fed, the door to our bedroom is locked at the moment and i tuned the piano for you so you can play when you feel like it.”

“please tell me you got alcohol,” jungkook mutters, and then sighs when yoongi takes out a bottle from the cabinet. “sorry, sorry, i’m just - antsy, i don’t know why.”

he looks like it too, his knees jittery and his hands folding on each other. yoongi hasn’t seen jungkook his anxious since his first job interview, so he presses his hands to jungkook’s shoulders and kneads them slowly. he’s nowhere near as good as jungkook is when it comes to massages, but he figures he can do the little things.

“calm down,” he pitches his voice lower. “calm down. we’re going to clean up all of this later, i’ve put out the futon and the extra pillows, it’s all okay.”

“i just want this to be a good christmas,” jungkook sighs. “hayoung won’t remember, yeah, but i want it to be a good one anyway. last year you were so busy and i was so busy and we barely saw each other and i didn’t get to talk to my parents that much - “

“it’ll be different,” yoongi assures him, and then they both jump as the doorbell rings.

“time to go,” yoongi grins, bopping jungkook on the those before going to where his daughter is and picking her up easily. she giggles and bumps her head against his. jungkook leaves to open the door.

sounds of cheer and joy filter through the room and into the apartment, and yoongi knows it’ll be a good christmas.

/

hayoung shows off her crawling abilities. jimin almost topples the tree over. jungkook can’t hold his alcohol and plays symphony no. 40 and yoongi sneaks in too much pudding.

it’s a good christmas.

/

they’ve gotten nothing prepared for the new years, though, it isn’t the korean new year, so they don’t go all out - they watch the fireworks on television and yoongi buys ice-cream to take home. he’s going to have to start saving up, because hayoung’s first birthday will be in march and then the korean new year is going to be in february and he’s going to have to buy her a hanbok and there’ll be tteokbuk and jeon and jungkook will want to buy a lot of food that will probably hurt both of their wallets.

but now, as the sun year turns from one to the next, yoongi takes his mug of hot chocolate and drinks it steadily, clinking his cup against jungkook’s and kissing him on the forehead. it’s warm, the snow is finally melting somewhat (though they’ll get blizzards later) and hayoung is sleeping.

/

january is cold and dreary and yoongi doesn’t like it at all. the entire month is spent saving and so jungkook doesn’t use the washing machine, doing the laundry by hand in the shower, half-concealed by the glass panelled door. he buys the less expensive brands of food and yoongi cuts down on buying lunch from outside, instead taking the leftovers from yesterday to work. he doesn’t treat as much, and doesn’t go out with his coworkers that much either. it’s alright - everyone is pretty much saving up for the lunar new year.

there’s another blizzard that goes by easily, only staying for a night. hayoung slaps her hands against the table from her high chair, demanding food, her dark eyes blinking wide open from time to time. jungkook feeds her on autopilot, today’s choice of mush spreading across the corner of no matter how hard he tries to get it all in.

“what about her solids?” yoongi asks. hayoung has started to teeth, nearing ten months, and she’s getting bigger and healthier and more demanding as time goes by. she cries from the pain often and will chew on everything; her favorite things to chew on are yoongi’s glasses and the collar of jungkook’s shirt.

“i’m too tired to deal with the mess at the moment.” jungkook sighs, before tapping the plastic, baby-safe spoon against his blue bowl. “besides, i put chunks of sweet potato in this. easy for her to chew.”

“she doesn’t have molars yet,” yoongi pokes at hayoung’s mouth, watching her open it to bite at his finger. “just these cute two bottom teeth. should i get salmon next time i go to the butcher?”

“fish? i’m waiting until she’s a year old before i start on fish. just get the chicken.”

“how about salmon for us?”

jungkook grumbles about prices and not making salmon in a long time and now he’ll have to call up seokjin hyung to get recipes and seokjin will keep him on the phone forever and how will yoongi pay the phone bill then, huh? but yoongi just snorts and laughs because he knows that jungkook is deflecting.

“alright, i’ll buy more fish after the new year, alright?” he smiles, amused, and jungkook scowls. “aw, babe, c’mon - you know i’ll eat whatever you make anyway.”

“that’s because you can’t make anything other than watery ramen and coffee,” jungkook puts a chunk of sweet potato into hayoung’s mouth. “get mackerel, though. i’m going to the supermarket to get vegetables - spinach, and stuff...leeks, maybe. i need to make a list.”

“alright,” yoongi yawns. “i gotta go to work. you gonna be okay?”

“yeah,” jungkook sighs. “hana is probably going to start chewing on jars in the supermarket. i’m just not looking forward to that.”

yoongi laughs, unable to help himself.

/

at night, yoongi is feeding his daughter bits of rice and chicken, smushed together for easy chewing done by two teeth. he finds those teeth - on the bottom of her gums - enormously cute, and will take any precaution to make her smile just to see them. jungkook is napping on the couch, and yoongi is playing with his daughter more than feeding her, which she appreciates. she giggles loudly whenever yoongi bops her nose with the spoon and slaps his hands when he drops it on purpose, splattering food bits over her bib.

jungkook wakes up during one of these laughing sessions, and immediately proceeds to scowl. “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“c’mon, look how cute she is!”

“feed her, min yoongi, are you going to calm her when she wakes up crying because she’s hungry?”

yoongi presses a loud kiss on jungkook’s mouth, a smack sound following after he breaks apart. jungkook looks poleaxed. it’s cute. yoongi grins. “yeah, i will. you’re grumpy when you wake up.”

okay, so he deserved the punch on the arm he got for that one.

/

“i just want to take her to all the places,” jimin whines, while taehyung waves a finger in front of hayoung. she tries to grab it intermittently, also busy with jabbing crayons on paper. “the amusement park, the street fairs, a concert...why aren’t you guys super excited about going anywhere at all?”

“so much effort,” jungkook sighs.

“so little time,” yoongi agrees.

“jungkookie,” taehyung suddenly starts, “i want jeon.”

“jeon jungkookie~” jimin sings.

“i’m not making jeon for you,” jungkook grumbles. “i’m tired, hyung.”

“but jeon sounds so good right now, and it’s perfect for cold weather! yoongi-hyung, do you want jeon?”

“not without alcohol,” yoongi groans, “and jungkook won’t let me drink when there’s a child in the house. unless it's a special occasion where i can be foisted off of responsibilities.”

“hayoung is too young to go anywhere, all she’d do is look at everything and then get sick the next day,” jungkook groans. he makes a pained face. “we know from experience.”

“painful experience,” yoongi adds in, remembering the day they went out for a walk in a local street fair only to come home and find out that she had the sniffles two days later. jungkook got sick then, too, and yoongi lived off of cup ramen and the pre-made rations jungkook left in the fridge and convenience store kimbap. he ate like he was suffering in college again. hayoung was inconsolable throughout it all, constantly wailing to tell her parents about the pain in her little lungs and kicking her blankets off.

“i want jeon,” taehyung sniffles. “spicy jeon. i want kimchi jeon and pepper jeon, with the meat in it.”

“taehyung,” jimin huffs, “shut up. please.”

“you’re just mad you didn’t make her laugh as many times as i did,” taehyung prattles. yoongi shares a wince with his husband.

“listen here,” jimin starts, high pitched, “she laughed at me that one time, okay, you’re not even funny all that much except for your face! meanwhile i am the epitome of cute faces and funny smiles.”

“she probably thought you sounded like a cartoon character and laughed at your squeak,” taehyung crumples his nose unattractively, and jimin grabs for his throat.

“your jokes are about as appetizing as bad makgeolli, all chalky and stiff. go take a lesson from hobi-hyung or something, you - you - “

“says the guy that has to do a million things to get a baby to look at him - “

“you do it too you little - “

“i remember having one kid, not three,” yoongi scowls, hitting both 95-ers upside the head. “get over yourselves, please. obviously, she likes jungkook the most.”

they both turn to hayoung, who indeed, has her attention to jungkook. she’s tugging at his sleeve as he’s impassively looking at his phone, amusing herself with how it stretches.

“that’s unfair,” jimin pouts. “jungkook is her dad. we can’t compete with that.”

hayoung realizes she has a crayon in her hand. with a couple more bangs that leave marks on her high chair, she makes an inquiring little sound and then sticks her hand out in yoongi’s direction. with her eyes focused solely on him, she emphatically states, “pa.”

yoongi freezes; she’s said a string of “papapapa”s before, random babbles in the middle of her words, but this time it feels different. she’s looking straight at him, not at her hands or the sky or the wall; she’s motioning toward yoongi, leaning toward him, her fingers reaching out toward him and her crayon in her hand.

the table falls silent when taehyung and jimin notice that yoongi isn’t responding. jungkook looks up from his phone; and in that perfect moment, hayoung once again says, “pa!”

the sound of jungkook’s phone on the countertop shatters the sudden silence.

“it’s her first word,” he yells, voice a little loud in his excitement; yoongi still feels frozen. “oh my god - wait, wait lemme get my camera -goddammit - “

“no don’t curse now kookie your baby might copy you because she’s talking - “

“yoongi-hyung! yoongi-hyung are you okay you look like you got hit by a truck!”

yoongi feels like he got hit by a truck.

jungkook tugs yoongi to his side and hayoung laughs, bright and gummy. she holds out her crayon again toward yoongi and states, once more, “pa! papa!”

“yes, hana, that’s papa,” jungkook is nearly bouncing in his excitement, face alight with glee. “papa. papa. oh my god, her first word is papa. yoongi, yoongi are you even alive, are you okay?”

“she’s talking,” he says numbly. excitement grows in his chest like a vine. “i - what.”

“she said papa,” jungkook whispers, kissing him on the cheek briefly. yoongi grins wide and then whoops, taking the crayon his daughter offered him so sweetly and then raising her out of her chair, throwing her high in the air before catching her again. it makes her laugh loudly, her little baby shrieks music to his ears.

“i actually, really thought her first word would be no,” jimin says, wondrous. “you two say it so often that i suppose that it was just the logical thing for her to say first.”

“excuse you, i’ve been calling yoongi papa in front of her for ages just for this moment.”

“isn’t she like, ten months? almost ten months?”

“you’re right,” jungkook pulls yoongi so he’s cooing at hayoung too; “she’s a little early. you’re a smart little noodle, aren’t you?”

“she’s gonna go to seoul national university and get a degree in engineering and start the next samsung company,” yoongi tells them gravely. “and she’ll never get married. that’s my baby girl.”

never get married? jimin mouths, while taehyung is jumping around in his own child-like excitement. jungkook shrugs, mouthing back, it’s a long story.

/

they’re in a restaurant; it’s the beginning of february and at the end of the week it’ll be the lunar new year. jungkook’s saved up for a bunch of foods he’s going to make - his mom and dad left to go to his grandparent’s house farther south, so it’s just their little family of three this time around. hayoung is in a cute little dress with tiny boots, a little warm woollen hat and gloves. she’s swaying back and forth, finally getting the hang of sitting and crawling at will, playing with her boots - fascinated at how her feet are covered. or the fact that she has feet at all.

they ordered hweh, because jungkook wanted to go all out, and they’re just waiting for the rest of their order now. jungkook also brought along some of hayoung’s food, because he’s still antsy about feeding her fish, and yoongi is happy to just be able to rest his legs.

when the fish and scallops arrive, yoongi goes straight for the scallop, popping one straight in his mouth without waiting for jungkook. he moans at the taste.

“keep that to yourself, would you,” jungkook mock crinkles his nose in disgust, and yoongi leans forward purposely with his arm slack against the table. he winks greasily, the way he sees namjoon do sometimes, and smiles wide. “i could do it again for you, free of charge.”

jungkook pretends to gag.

“i’ve charmed you into being my husband once, jeon jungkook, i can do it again.”

“the novelty has worn off,” jungkook jokes, and his bunny teeth are on full display. “i know all your secrets now. like how you ball up your socks and throw them underneath the bed, or how you sneak bites of kimchi i put away to ferment. or the way you have a picture of me as your lockscreen.” jungkook plops a piece of fish in his mouth, ignoring yoongi’s sputtering.

“you and hayoung, my daughter,” yoongi corrects haughtily, but that was two months ago; the most recent one is of jungkook, smiling at him from underneath the covers. he took it in the morning when jungkook was awake and too lazy to get up, so they just traded syrupy kisses and ignored their responsibilities.

“mhm,” jungkook sounds way too smug. “you’re so soft, yoongi, no matter how much you still pretend to be a punk.”

“that wounded my pride, babe,” yoongi holds a hand over his heart, where there’s a jolt of pain from the hit. “that really did.”

“aw, we got the small portion of scallops,” jungkook sighs. “okay, okay - rock paper scissors?”

“best two out of three.” it doesn’t work for five rounds, because they put out the same things. each and every time jungkook’s laughter gets louder and the scallops are calling to yoongi, they really are. hayoung also squeals, happy baby she is, and she crawls out of her spot to other patrons. jungkook has to take breaks to crawl after her and bring her back, settling her on yoongi’s lap (to which she lets out a cute little “pa!” again. yoongi’s insides are melting, he doesn’t know what the heck he’s doing, it’s like someone put him in the microwave and left him there for thirty seconds and now he’s a melty pool of melty...meltiness.) and then returning to his spot.

“yes,” jungkook cries, victorious. “yes, that is mine!” yoongi can’t really find himself to be upset, because he did eat more than half, but then jungkook takes a bite and feeds the rest to yoongi anyway, who still doesn't feel full.

“gimme some of your sushi,” yoongi prods. “i’m a hungry man that needs hungry man food.”

“should have ordered more,” jungkook sighs, but then complies in feeding him. yoongi could take hayoung off of his lap and feed himself - or just reach around her and feed himself - but he likes this way much better. (by the way jungkook is staring at him in fond exasperation, he’s sussed yoongi out completely. whatever. he’s still the winner here.)