It's quiet when Kyungsoo wakes up.

 

He doesn't open his eyes as he slowly adopts consciousness, because these types of mornings are scarce, and he's learned to appreciate this kind of calmness, now that it's become a rarity. The opportunity to relish in tranquil silence should never be wasted.

 

The heater whirrs in the background, its purr the only sound palpable in his little bubble of solace.

 

It's quiet, he thinks, calmly. And then, suspiciously. Too quiet.

 

It's Saturday, so Jongin should be in bed next to him. But the empty space beside him indicates that his husband is anywhere but cuddling him, where he should be.

 

There's some rustling somewhere around his feet, followed by a million muffled giggles. Ah, Kyungsoo thinks, so that's what he's up to so early in the morning. He fights the smile threatening to take over his face. By the sound of the overdramatic “He's awake!” he hears surround the room, Kyungsoo assumes he's failed.

 

He opens his eyes.

 

He expects to see Jongin. What he doesn't expect is Jongin standing at the foot of their bed with Kangwoo and Taeoh, the two of them pointing plastic swords at Kyungsoo. Jongin has a spatula in his hand. It's amusing, but mostly endearing. Something about seeing Jongin use their kitchen utensils to play pretend with the kids makes him fall a little more in love with the man. He stares at the blanket tied around his husband's neck—really, what a pathetic excuse for a cape—and bursts into a fit full of laughter. Jongin, however, fully immersed in his role, remains undeterred by Kyungsoo's reaction, and continues pointing his weapon.

 

“Surrender!” He continues, voice merciless, but mostly full of mirth. 

 

It's too early in the morning for this, Kyungsoo groans internally, but as Jongin jumps onto the bed and right on top of him, he guesses there really is no turning back. His hurts from Jongin's little stunt, so he's gonna win this for his .

 

“Never!” He shouts back defiantly.

 

“Then face the wrath of my army!” Jongin pins the shorter's two hands against their pillows. It's a hold Kyungsoo can easily break out of, but he waits, letting the younger have his fun first, however short-lived. “Attack at full force!”

 

Kangwoo and Taeoh jump unceremoniously onto the bed in the same fashion Jongin had before them, meaning to say that they land themselves right onto Kyungsoo's stomach, behind where Jongin's sitting, and Kyungsoo's starts to hurt even more. Okay, now he's definitely going to win this.

 

The two of them start tickling Kyungsoo since their leader's hands are rendered useless, holding the enemy down. But not for long, since Kyungsoo surprises the three of them by rolling Jongin over and holding him down instead.

 

Kyungsoo smirks at him. “Kids,” he keeps his gaze on Jongin, taunting him, “you know what to do.”

 

The two of them immediately take action on Jongin instead, and as Jongin writhes in defeat and chokes on his own giggles, Kyungsoo thinks about why the younger thought this plan would end up well for him in the first place.

 

“Traitors!” He laughs, fighting to breathe. He writhes even more when Kyungsoo tells the two to go harder. “Mercy!” Jongin shouts instead the moment he's gained breath, and the tickles cease.

 

“You hear that?” Kyungsoo says in that tone he uses when he's in the mood to pick on Jongin. He's a little too happy for someone who's gotten justice for their . “Daddy's going to clean up the mess we made while Papa brings you two out to play!”

 

His sentence is followed by a chorus of cheers and Jongin smiles, defeated, to himself. Kyungsoo looks at him. Really, Jongin should have known.

 

The kids run to their room to bundle up, and Kyungsoo plops himself onto Jongin in bed. He snuggles into Jongin's neck. “Think you can handle this mess on your own?”

 

“Yeah.” His arms rub at Kyungsoo's back lazily, making up for the cuddle session they missed out on. “Plus I owe you one for that body slam. That was fun. We should do it more often.”

 

Kyungsoo pinches the skin closest to his reach and Jongin yelps. “Yeah, when you're on the receiving end of it.”

 

~

 

When Kyungsoo's figured he can't stand the cold anymore, he gathers his two children and tells them their time is up.

 

Not without a few protests from said children, that is.

 

“But Olaf doesn't have a nose yet,” his eldest complains, holding the snowman's head in his arms. He brings it to Kyungsoo and pushes the giant snowball to his dad's face with all the strength he can muster. “Look how sad he is without a nose, Papa. You'd be sad if you didn't have a nose too,” he continues, arms trembling from the weight they hold.

 

Taeoh comes waddling behind his brother, and Kyungsoo can see from the pout on his face that he's starting to get grumpy.

 

He looks at his two sons and smiles. “Tell you what,” he starts, grabbing the snowball from Kangwoo and placing it in its rightful place atop the snowman's body, “we'll leave Olaf here for the day and let him cast more snow clouds, and tomorrow we'll come back with a carrot so he'll finally have a nose. That sound alright to you, champ?”

 

“But he'll be alone on his own!” Kangwoo stomps, whining.

 

“Then you can come back whenver to warm him up. He’ll need a buddy to keep him cozy, after all.” answers Kyungsoo, crouching down to his level.

 

“Whenever I want?” Kangwoo asks, his eyes sparkling. He's been getting ahead of himself with the big boy concept lately, boasting about how he'll be a bus driver and drive himself places soon. Kyungsoo knows he'll have to keep an eye out on this one, he's worried one day his son will prance off when the elder's turned the other way.

 

Kyungsoo laughs nervously at the thought and evades the question. He pulls Taeoh's hood up because the scrunch in his eyebrows tell him that the boy is getting impatient.

 

“We'll bring him a nose tomorrow, kay bud?” He says instead.

 

Kangwoo stands there, contemplating the request. Kyungsoo knows that the boy probably sees this as a stunt to hurry them home, so he pulls out his big guns.

 

“Better hurry, Taeoh's getting grumpy, and the hot chocolate daddy brewed might be cold by the time we get back.”

 

It's like magic. At the mention of hot chocolate, Kangwoo straightens up and beams, giving him the okay. Kyungsoo moves to pick up Taeoh, and they start their journey back with Kangwoo leading the way.

 

“Hurry up Papa! The hot chocolate won't taste good anymore if it's cold!”

 

And Kyungsoo laughs because he's so happy he can't contain it, so happy he can finally call these two gems his own, that he bounces Taeoh on his back and runs. “Me and Taeoh will race you there, Kangwoo!”

 

The cold bites at his fingers, but as Taeoh giggles into his shoulders and Kangwoo yells at their unfair advantage, he realizes that these two will never fail to keep his heart warm.

 

 

~

 

 

They're a mess of melted snow and hearty giggles when they reach the apartment.

 

“There're my two favorite boys!” Jongin greets as the duo run toward him. He crouches down to envelope them into a hug but is toppled over with the force of their enthusiasm.

 

“Oh, then what does that make me?” Kyungsoo says, looming over the three with his arms crossed against his chest. His left eyebrow is drawn up in the way he knows Jongin finds y.

 

Jongin smirks, and the answer he gives makes the older sputter.

 

“My favorite daddy.”

 

Kyungsoo can't help it, he surges forward and wraps both of his palms around Jongin's throat, shaking him back and forth. Jongin just laughs while he does it, ticklish.

 

Kangwoo blanches. “Papa! You’re going to kill Daddy!”

 

“Oh, I'm going to do more than that tonight.” Kyungsoo replies without thinking. He pales when he realizes what he's just said, but before he can fully let the embarrassment sink in the both of his children are tugging on his biceps and toppling him over too.

 

The smile that breaks his face is almost painful. Not nearly as painful as his back, which is hurting almost as much as his did this morning.

 

“You three are plotting against me.” He concludes as he stares at the ceiling fan.

 

Jongin smiles at him, smug. “Someone's finally catching on.”

 

They laze around at the foot of the couch later, and as his three boys fight to cuddle in his lap, he thinks about the way he’d awoken this morning. He closes his eyes, thinks about waking up to something akin to those events every morning, and smiles, because he can’t cry anymore.

 

There had been a time before, in a reality that feels so distant from this one, he'd been told that the possibility of him having a family of his own was close to none. He remembers the cold hospital room, the sound of the doctor's voice, his shaking fingers, linked with Jongin's.

 

“Pet my hair too,” Jongin mumbles in that adorable sleepy voice Kyungsoo is weak to, startling him out of his thoughts. Kyungsoo chortles, but opens his eyes and starts carding his fingers through Jongin’s brown locks anyway.

 

“When I asked god to give me children,” Kyungsoo whispers, almost losing to sleep, “I didn’t mean for him to marry me off to one too.” Jongin snuggles closer, content in the warmth and affection his husband emits, says, “You love me anyway,” and they both know he’s right.

 

Kyungsoo closes his eyes once again and lets sleep take him. The thought of their last hospital visit flashes through his head as he does so, but he brushes it off before it can really make its presence known. He knows now that the doctor had been wrong. This family, made up of love and warmth and security, is something he'd built with Jongin. And nobody, not a single person, will be able to take it away from him.

 

Or so he thinks.

 

~

 

Family has always been important to Kyungsoo. Growing up in an adoption center had starved him of affection and love only a family could provide, and Jongin knows this. Jongin knows Kyungsoo's desire to have a family of his own is mostly fueled by the fact that he grew up really, really lonely.

 

So when Kyungsoo makes it his own personal goal to make sure their family is loved and warm and happy, Jongin brews hot cocoa on even the sunniest of days to warm them from the inside.

 

When it's Sunday and they're out of pancake mix, Jongin insists they make blueberry waffles instead, and slobbers the stack with heavy maple syrup. He's the one that leads their afternoon ballet sessions and sings out of tune when Kyungsoo's throat gets sore. Jongin reads to Kangwoo before bed even though he mostly ends up sleeping in bed with the younger. He brings Taeoh to the park even when he knows he'll get distracted by the neighborhood dogs. He begs for Kyungsoo to kiss him goodnight even when he's sure the older will without asking. In every step Jongin takes, every wound Jongin kisses better, he teaches this family about laughter, about kindness, about self-love.

 

And because he's read every book written about parenting and nurturing a family, he knows that fights and squabbles are important for development, too. So Jongin purposely leaves the toilet seat up even though Kyungsoo smacks at him every time he does it. He leaves his laundry everywhere in their room and watches as Kangwoo and Taeoh follow his footsteps. He lets himself fall asleep on the cold floor knowing full well that Kyungsoo will get angry and worried, lets them shout at each other for it, then talk their feelings through.

 

Jongin tries, day and night, to make sure that Kyungsoo is never lonely, never empty, never hurt. Because he knows that after losing their first everything, there is a scar under Kyungsoo's shirt that still leaves him crying some nights, and this family is the only antidote that soothes the ache away.

 

So Jongin tries, and tries, and tries.

 

Yet, here they are.

 

“So what if Sehun and Joohyun are having a hard time? You make it sound like it's our fault things aren't working out for them!” The words hurt Jongin, he knows they do, but Jongin doesn't know that they hurt Kyungsoo too, just not in the same way.

 

Kyungsoo knows he wouldn't have said them if this were any other topic. But what Jongin's asking for... it's too much. Kyungsoo doesn't know if he has anything left to give.

 

“Listen, I know what you mean,” Jongin reasons, but it's all bull to Kyungsoo's ears. “I'm just giving them a chance to—”

 

“You might as well give them Kangwoo with what you're offering!” His voice is loud in the room, bouncing against the walls. They're being too loud for the children, he thinks. He should lower his voice. “We're not a ing bank,” he seethes when Jongin doesn't say anything. “We don't owe them anything.” A pause. “Especially not children.”

 

“I know we don't! And I know we're not—” Jongin lets out a breath through his teeth, a sign that he can no longer contain his frustration. “It's just artificial insemination, Kyungsoo. I'm not going to Joohyun if that's what you're worried about.”

 

“And I know it's not about that,” he continues before Kyungsoo can slap him, before Kyungsoo can get another word in. “I'd never disrespect you like that. Sehun and Joohyun too.” He deflates. He lets his next words hang in the air, but they do nothing to help Kyungsoo's lungs from collapsing. “It's just,” says Jongin shakily, “do you remember how it was when we couldn't...?”

 

Kyungsoo bristles without realizing it. One hand flies to his stomach, the other gripping the edge of the table in front of him because he needs something to keep him grounded. He feels like he'll fall over any minute now.

 

Jongin sidles up to him slowly, almost unsure of himself, his voice an echo in Kyungsoo's ears. He knows Jongin's talking. He just can't hear Jongin. Instead he hears the Jongin from over a year ago, petting his hair, holding him tight. He hears the tremble in his voice when Jongin tells him, Kyungsoo, it's going to be all right. You're okay, we're okay. This is a blessing in disguise. We can try again.

 

Kyungsoo holds his stomach. Feels how empty it is. Wills himself not to cry. 

 

He remembers what it felt like when the doctors took his baby away. The before: going to the hospital excited, ready to see their child once again, all the other patients' stares as he left the room crying. And then of course, the after. Waking up to a stiff bed, Jongin next to him, pillowed by his own arms, and the emptiness threatening to swallow him whole. He had cried the moment he woke up. Kyungsoo remembers missing his child so, so much. He misses his baby even now. Especially now.

 

He can't help it. He's crying.

 

The hand on his stomach grips tight onto his shirt. It's empty, void of a child. Jongin's child.

 

“Kyungsoo?”

 

It's Jongin's voice. Jongin of the present, though the tone sounds awfully like Jongin of the past, asking him if he's okay.

 

Jongin treads carefully, like Kyungsoo will break any minute. Kyungsoo thinks he will.

 

“Baby,” Kyungsoo feels the word vibrate through Jongin's chest, and only then realizes that they’re in each other’s embraces, two hearts beating the same rhythm. Any other day he would have swooned being held and hearing Jongin call him that, baby, but right now it just serves as an ugly reminder.

 

“I'm sorry.” And then a bit faster, like he's trying to get all the words out as fast as physically possible, “I'm sorry, I know it's still a sensitive topic between us, but—I—remember.” He whispers his next words, and kisses the tuft of hair closest to him. “And I don’t want them to go through that too. They don't deserve to.”

 

“But did we?” Kyungsoo almost asks. Thinking about the answer makes his heart tremble. What if they did? What if they didn't? He pulls away. Instead he says, “But what about me?”

 

“What about you?” Jongin replies, exasperated, and when he looks back at Kyungsoo, registering his face, the elder knows that Jongin's realized a little too late the insensitivity of his own words.

 

“I want to carry your child! Me! The person married to you!” It sounds selfish to even his own ears, but he can't see past the fury and hurt. “I'm so sorry if that's so much to ask of you, that instead of trying for our own family you're going to someone else to have your baby!”

 

“You know that's not what I meant! I just don’t want them to have to adopt!” Jongin fires back, defending himself.

 

A pause follows his words. Kyungsoo gives himself a minute to fully comprehend them.

 

“What,” Kyungsoo grits out, his next words slicing right through the air, “is so wrong with adopting?”

 

“Nothing!” the younger yells, defensive, and it only makes Kyungsoo angrier. “Nothing, dammit, I was just saying—” He cuts himself off. Kyungsoo almost screams at him to finish his sentence, but he holds back because he doesn’t know if he can handle hearing the end of it.

 

“Whatever, do what you want.” One more word and he'll shatter, fighting this losing battle. Kyungsoo makes for the door and grabs his coat, slamming it shut behind him.

 

And because Jongin's been trying this entire time, as he watches his efforts crumble before him, he cries just as Kyungsoo does, staring at the elder's back as he leaves.

 

~

 

“Daddy?” It's Kangwoo. He lifts his arms out of his blanket as Jongin kisses Taeoh’s forehead. “Where’s Papa?”

 

“Papa’s not feeling well, bud. He’s in bed already.” Lies, Kangwoo thinks. He knows that Kyungsoo isn’t sick.

 

It’s the third night Jongin’s tucked them both in bed alone. He remembers what they said when they were shouting at each other in the living room the other day.

 

You might as well give them Kangwoo. I want to carry your baby.

 

Jongin wants to give him away. Kyungsoo wants a baby. But why were they fighting? Is it because they’re poor?

 

“Daddy, are we poor?” He knows the risk in asking the question, that he might hurt Jongin’s feelings, or worse, make him angry, but he can’t help it. He’s struggling to understand why they would want to give him away. They told him they loved him.

 

“No honey,” Jongin replies. He sounds so tired. Kangwoo wonders why. “I’d say we’re pretty well off. Why?”

 

“We only have one house. Beomsil has two houses. One for his mom and one for his dad.” It’s true. Beomsil always tells him about spending alternate weekends at his mom’s or his dad’s place.

 

“Well,” Jongin sits on his bed. “That’s because his parents aren’t together anymore. They’re separated.”

 

“But don’t they love each other?”

 

“Kangwoo, honey, sometimes love alone isn’t enough.” His answer leaves the younger silent, so Jongin pets his hair and kisses him goodnight. When he closes the door, Kangwoo finally understands.

 

His parents love him. But they don’t love him enough.

 

~

 

“Kangwoo, why are your eyes swollen?” Said boy pushes his pancakes around his plate, keeping mum.

 

Kyungsoo sits at the table. Kangwoo realizes that he’s not sitting in his usual spot, beside his other father, who has his nose buried in a book. “Were you up late at night?”

 

Kangwoo nods. He doesn’t know what else to say.

 

“But I put him to bed early.” Jongin says, turning a page.

 

“Obviously, if you had put him to bed properly, his eyes wouldn’t be this swollen.” Kyungsoo snaps. Kangwoo watches them both. He’s never seen them this hostile towards each other. It scares him. Maybe they don’t have enough love for each other, too.

 

When he can longer look at his parents, he averts his gaze to Taeoh. He wonders bitterly why they’re not giving him away too. Are they going to give him away once he reaches Kangwoo’s age? Or do they love him more?

 

Do they love him enough?

 

“Papa,” he speaks up. His parents have stopped bickering. Or maybe they haven’t. He doesn’t know. “Can we go out and play today?”

 

The look Kyungsoo gives him is enough of an answer. “Maybe tomorrow, bud. Papa’s tired today.”

 

Kangwoo folds himself in and resumes playing with his food unceremoniously. “Okay.” He feels rejected and disappointed, but he assumes he should get used to feeling this way. Soon, he won’t be waking up to their faces anymore.

 

As if only realizing his eldest son’s odd behavior, Kyungsoo asks what’s wrong. “Do you not like the pancakes?”

 

“No.” Kangwoo says softly. “Do we have carrots?”

 

Jongin puts his book down, surprised. He faces Kangwoo with his eyebrows raised. “You want carrots for breakfast?”

 

“Do you have to make it sound like it’s a bad thing?” Kyungsoo turns around and heads to the kitchen. When he returns, there are two washed carrots in his hand. He gives one to Kangwoo and one to Taeoh. “You should learn from your brother.”

 

“Okay!” Taeoh chirps, oblivious of everything. There aren’t many things Kangwoo likes sharing, but right now he wishes he could share the cluelessness his brother emits. Maybe it would hurt less if he didn’t know all the things he did.

 

The thought tears at him, so as soon as he finishes breakfast, he retreats to his and Taeoh’s room with the carrot in hand, the younger following behind him.

 

He closes the door. His bed is messy and unmade from when we he woke up this morning. Beside it, about a meter away, lies Taeoh’s bed. He and the younger had always used the distance between the two beds to build fortresses and have pretend campfires. He remembers the first time he jumped from his bed to Taeoh’s. A smile forms at the memory. But when he thinks about Kyungsoo having sock fights with his brother, Jongin hiding in their closet, or Taeoh whining at him to play blocks together, the smile dissipates slowly. He thinks about his family. How much they love him. Why can’t it be enough? Kangwoo thinks it’s enough.

 

“Taeoh,” Kangwoo calls. The younger hums in response. “Do you think Papa and Daddy love us enough?”

 

“Silly!” His brother laughs. “Of course they do!”

 

He looks at the carrot in his hand. He wonders if he’s really going to do this. “Do you think they’ll miss me if I leave?”

 

“Why would you have to leave? Papa and Daddy are gonna keep us forever!” But that’s not the answer Kangwoo’s looking for. If anything, it only makes his heart ache more. He grips the carrot in his hand. Maybe if they can’t love him enough, they can miss him enough. And that… has to count for something, right?

 

~

 

It’s quiet when Kyungsoo wakes up.

 

It's Saturday again, the day they sleep in and cuddle and have breakfast after eleven. But this Saturday looks nothing like that; this Saturday Kyungsoo turns to his side of the bed and looks at the window. The light streaming from in between the drapes tell him it's still early—that, and the clock hanging on the wall. It's just past 7am.

 

Jongin moves behind him. The younger moves around a lot when he's not sleeping well, and Kyungsoo knows that it has to do with him scooting out of the taller's embrace every night. It's not that he means to hurt his husband by avoiding him, it's just that it hurts Kyungsoo even more to be held by Jongin knowing that Jongin isn't happy with their family. 

 

That he is ashamed.

 

He watches the clock tick, each second echoing into his ears. Then, when he can no longer take the sound, he turns to face Jongin. The urge to smooth over his eyebrows is too strong to ignore, so Kyungsoo surrenders to temptation, the feeling not unlike letting himself fall for Jongin. 

 

There is something so uncharacteristically beautiful about Jongin in his sleep, letting his guard down, vulnerable. He takes a second to admire the raw beauty before he sneaks a kiss to his forehead and makes a home in Jongin's arms. He's had enough of all this sulking. They'll talk it out.

 

Maybe Jongin is ashamed. Maybe he's unhappy. But they'll work it out. They always do, because that's what you do for family. You try and try and try. And Kyungsoo will try for Jongin. With that thought, Kyungsoo snuggles closer and falls back asleep.

 

When he wakes up again, it's because Jongin is shaking his shoulder.

 

He's saying something, sounding almost frantic, but Kyungsoo can't make out his words. Lost in his sleep, Kyungsoo mumbles, forgetting that they haven't officially made up yet, “Go jerk yourself off in the bathroom. It's too early in the morning to .”

 

The shaking stops. And then, it comes back in full force, ten times faster then it was before.

 

“Okay, okay, we'll . But you do all the work.”

 

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin says, a quiver in his voice that resembles panic a little too much. It fully rouses the older. “Kangwoo… Kangwoo's missing. I can't find him.”

 

Kyungsoo hears, before he sees, that Jongin is crying. “What?”

 

He gets up and scurries to his sons' room, completely ignoring the fact that Jongin's checked moments before him. He has to be wrong. They should still be in bed. It's not even ten yet.

 

The younger's voice follows him through the short distance. “Do you think,” he rubs his fingers at the hinge of the door. Kyungsoo’s told him a hundred times over not to do that. “That someone took him?” It’s the worst of his—their—fears. Having their children taken away from them.

 

He pulls Jongin’s fingers into his hands, trying to stop them from shaking, though it’s a little hard when Kyungsoo’s heart trembles all the same. “Hey now, we’ll find him.” But he’s trying to convince himself, too.

 

They ask Taeoh but the youngest says his sibling was gone when he woke up. “Look,” Kyungsoo points to their rack of shoes at the foyer. “His shoes aren’t here.” He turns to Jongin, who hasn’t stopped crying behind him. “If someone took him, they wouldn’t stop for his shoes, okay?” He wipes at Jongin’s tears. “He probably went out by himself.”

 

“But Kangwoo doesn’t know his way around! He’s alone out there somewhere, and probably cold, and lost, and scared…” Jongin’s sobs increase with every one of his words. He sounds so afraid.

 

“Shh,” Kyungsoo soothes. “I know you're scared. I am too.” He almost admits that he’s one second away from crying too. Instead he says, “But he's a smart boy. We taught him well, remember?”

 

“Yeah. Sorry, sorry I—”

 

“It's okay. But I need you to stop crying.” He knows that tears are Jongin's response to most of his fears, but they can't stay put and wallow now. “I need you to get Taeoh in his coat and help me find Kangwoo. You can do that, right?” He says in his calmest voice. He hopes it soothes Jongin, because that way he knows he’s doing at least something right.

 

Jongin nods and Kyungsoo palms his cheek. “I'll head out first. Don't forget your phone.” I love you.

 

“I’ll call you every ten minutes to check on you.” I love you too.

 

~

 

It's been over forty minutes and he still can't find Kangwoo. He's checked the playground, the roof of their apartment complex, the little corner Kangwoo and Taeoh play hopscotch in, but they're all void of a little brown-eyed boy. He's even checked with their neighbors, called all of his son's teachers and contacted the parents of his friends. None of them have seen Kangwoo.

 

His voice is hoarse from shouting Kangwoo's name. All he wants is a call back in that tiny voice that asks for play dates every morning. His worry grows with every stride he takes, each minute that passes.

 

When he turns, he sees Jongin running to him with Taeoh on his back. “No luck?”

 

“No,” Kyungsoo says. He thinks his gut is going to collapse in his stomach. “I don't know where else to look.”

 

“Kangwoo hyung's not coming home?” Taeoh asks, looking between both of his parents.

 

“No, it's not that, it's just—” He looks at what his son is holding. “What's this?”

 

Taeoh brings the half-eaten carrot up to his father's face. “Breakfast!”

 

Carrots. Play dates.

 

“I'm such an idiot.” Kyungsoo picks Taeoh up with one arm and grabs Jongin with the other. Then, they run to the last place he can think of, hoping to find their son there.

 

 

When they reach the park, ten minutes later, Kyungsoo lets out a breath of relief upon the sight in front of them. There, in the distance, is the little Olaf they built a week ago, a carrot stuck on its face, and the most precious lump Kyungsoo's ever seen beside it. A lump Kyungsoo calls his son. He passes Taeoh to his husband and runs.

 

“My baby,” he says as he engulfs the boy in his arms, his heart thundering in his chest. The tears finally leak out of his eyes, and he lets them, exhausted. “My baby,” he says again, relishing in it. Kangwoo quivers in his hold, hiccupping. “What are you doing out here all alone?”

 

Kangwoo takes a minute to respond. He sobs out, in the tiniest voice Kyungsoo's ever heard, like he's afraid of the consequences to come, “You said I could keep him warm when I want to.”

 

Kyungsoo holds him tighter.

 

“Hey bud,” Jongin says as he drops to the ground, joining them. Kyungsoo notices that his voice is calmer, steadier. Perhaps because the fear’s morphed into relief, leaving no room for anymore tears. Jongin pushes Kangwoo's bangs back as Taeoh runs in circles around Olaf. “Went on a little adventure on your own?”

 

“Yeah,” he whispers, his nose red.

 

“Well,” Jongin wraps one of Kangwoo's hands in the palms of his own, and blows his hot breath into it, warming it up. “Next time bring Daddy or Papa along, yeah?”

 

“Okay,” Kangwoo nods, and then shivers. “It's really cold.”

 

“Well, we're here now, Kangwoo.” Kyungsoo says as Jongin huddles into the embrace. “We'll warm you better.”

 

~

 

They return home with Kangwoo beaming and Taeoh sulking.

 

“Kangwoo hyung went out to play without Taeoh?” he'd said the moment Kyungsoo told him to give his older brother a big hug. They've had a long day, and it's only half past noon, so the two wash up and head back to bed after lunch and hot cocoa, the excitement from morning draining them.

 

Jongin tucks them in, this time making sure that the two tender hearts give in to sleep before closing the door and heading to his own room where Kyungsoo is waiting.

 

“Hi,” Jongin says, as he sits cross-legged before Kyungsoo on their bed, the normal position for when they talk things through.

 

“Hi,” Kyungsoo says back. He's leaning against the bedframe. “Wanna come a bit closer?”

 

“Sure,” Jongin says, and abides.

 

The two remain silent for a moment. Jongin fidgets where he sits, and Kyungsoo notices, so he holds out his hands for Jongin to grasp. Jongin does, gratefully. It’s a little harder to talk about what they’ve gone through when the matter’s a little more serious than hogging the blanket at night.

 

“Sorry,” says the younger, the apology too loud in their quiet bubble. “I'm really sorry.”

 

“What for? If anything, I should be the one—”

 

Jongin cuts him off. “You know when Kangwoo said, just now, that he left because he thought we didn't love him enough?” Kangwoo had explained, with Cheerios in his mouth, that he overheard them arguing. About giving him away and wanting a baby. He'd said that he'd find family in the snowman they made because he thought that maybe, Kyungsoo and Jongin didn't have enough love for him. That their love could only sustain little Taeoh and the baby Kyungsoo had mentioned wanting.

 

“I think it's because, a few nights ago, when he asked why Beomsil's parents don't live together, I told him that sometimes love just isn't enough.” He lowers his gaze, ashamed that he thought Kangwoo could handle that information at such a tender age. “I just didn't want to lie to him, is all.” He blinks up at Kyungsoo, then looks away once he's seen the elder's face. “Maybe I said it because I was a little sad that we were still in a fight, too.”

 

Kyungsoo palms his cheeks, bringing their eyes together. “We’re prone to making mistakes, okay?” He brushes Jongin’s hair back, and then there’s that look on his face he gets when he’s thinking. Probably about how to address his behavior these past few days.

 

“I'm sorry I was so cold to you.” Kyungsoo starts. “I know it was childish of me, but when you said you didn't want Sehun and Joohyun to adopt, you said it with so much apprehension, like you couldn't bear the thought of it.” They're holding hands again, except this time, Kyungsoo’s the one who averts his gaze. “It made me feel like you were ashamed that we adopted.”

 

When Kyungsoo's eyes begin to water, Jongin brings him into his arms. “It's really not that, love.” He feels Kyungsoo's fingers clench the back of his shirt, and remembers that Kyungsoo, too, needs assurance at times. All the time. “I don't know if you know this, but Sehun has a record for throwing rocks at his neighbor’s window when he was twelve. I thought it'd be unlikely for them to have a fair shot at adopting because he has a silly record for when he didn't know better.” He realizes that the impact of his words from before have shaken Kyungsoo, remembering the look in the shorter's eyes when he asked what was wrong with adopting.

 

“And I'm sorry if you felt like I was forcing you to let me go through with the artificial insemination.” Jongin continues. “I just wanted for our friends to have a chance.”

 

“You weren't forcing me into anything,” comes Kyungsoo's voice. “It's just... It felt like you’d given up on me. I’m incompetent; not anything you’d find worth fighting for.” And then, in a smaller voice, “I can’t even give you a child.”

 

It’s silent for a moment.

 

Kyungsoo traces the lines of Jongin’s palms, an inaudible pause stretching between the two. Jongin realizes now that Kyungsoo has, somehow, managed to convince himself that he’s never been good enough. His fingers are trembling again, but he can’t will them to stay still. Dummy, Jongin thinks, kissing the top of his head.

 

“But you’ve given me a family, Kyungsoo. More than anything, you’ve given me happiness, a life, love.” He thumbs Kyungsoo’s cheek, and looks at him, really looks at him. They're so close, a hair's breadth apart.

 

Jongin hopes that Kyungsoo can see that he's giving away all his vulnerability. “Maybe it’s not enough for you, and we'll work on that, but for me, it’s everything. Tell me, why wouldn’t I fight for that, love?”

 

He sees Kyungsoo’s hand move to his stomach again, just like he had when they’d fought days ago. “Who cares if we've had a miscarriage? We can try again. We can get me pregnant this time, yeah?” Jongin kisses him, a man quenching his thirst after months of being in a drought, and Kyungsoo melts into him like goo.

 

“We'd better get started then,” Kyungsoo says, and the tears are gone, but all Jongin can focus on as the elder kisses him is the grasp Kyungsoo has on his heart.

 

~

 

It’s quiet when Kyungsoo wakes up.

 

He tries, as he usually does on weekends, to hold onto the remnants of his sleep, so he keeps his eyes closed, feeling for Jongin beside him. When he feels the space where his husband should be void of warmth once again, Kyungsoo pouts. This again, he grumbles in his head. All he wants is to cuddle in the morning. What's so important that Jongin has to attend to that requires him to be up and about so early in the morning and leave Kyungsoo deprived of his morning cuddles?

 

One of these days he's going to sneak in Taeoh's bed and sleep with him instead, if only to get a cuddle session with his youngest the following morning.

 

Some rustling interrupts his thoughts. The sound is awfully familiar. Then, he hears footsteps and some giggles, followed by more rustling.

 

This again, Kyungsoo thinks, and then smiles.

 

---

 

 

AN: Uh, hi? I'm back after two years..?

tbh i'm not really happy with this fic, but I figured I might as well cross-post it here so that you guys (if there even are any of you lmao) know that I'm not dead lol. More kaisoo fics to come (i've got like 11 wips how the heck)! Scream at me on tumblr/twitter!

 

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