so, it has finally come to end. xD hope you liked this (especially you, purapupurr), this entire story--that would mean a lot. and also, i have decided to bring back another story from the dead, and if you’re interested to check it out, too, perhaps, it will start any day. take care. until then.

chapter four: springs

Sehun had known of the feeling long before it knocked on his silenced door, and perhaps that was why it was so easy to accept it back in his life; with more love, feeling, and emotions than he did before. What was that they said about this feeling?--that it came only once. Sehun believed it, too. Until came Jongin. Long before Jongin, Sehun had loved a man; not to be named, because it would inflict pain on his already wounded heart. He had loved the man, and he had felt for him, too, long before he had realised what a fraud he was. Though, it happened anyway. He loved, and he felt. His heart was broken, and then he moved on. It was the only option; moving on usually was. Then came Jongin, and the warning bell rang quicker than he had expected. Since the feeling was known, he did not try to fight; he accepted, and then surrendered to his fate. Whatever would happen of it only time would tell, but Sehun was sure as hell by the passing months that he would fight for it if it came to that.

Jongin was a bubbling mess; of happiness, sunshine, anxiety, sadness, frankness, beauty, and so much more that Sehun often had difficulties understanding what and how to take the first step to understand him. His friends advised him to not even try, some things could never be understood, and so he left at that. He allowed himself to fall, but his heart took a deep plunge instead. The funniest thing was it did not even hurt; it did not hurt, but it brought so much back to him that Sehun was often unsure if it was real at all. Then Jongin had to shove him into the deep abyss of his own life; the past that centered around nothing but pain and suffering; full of betrayal, distrust, heartbreak, and nightmares. Jongin brought that into Sehun’s world, and perhaps that was why he felt everything tenfold.

Jongin’s sadness became his own; his past became a part of his own; his sufferings, his pain; everything belonged to Sehun, too. The nightmares that Jongin dreamt, but rarely woke up from, were felt by Sehun through the tremors of the night when Jongin would pass those little blubbering mess of nonsense into his chest instead. He would not wake up, but he would wake Sehun up instead. Then, Sehun would feel; it would be so easy, too: Jongin’s hand clutching onto his chest as if afraid; his fluttering eyes, as if he wanted to wake up but he couldn’t because he was afraid that the reality would be just as cruel; his heavy breaths; and, on rare occasions, the bouts of tears that Sehun would wipe with the back of his hand. What could he do more than that anyway? Sehun knew what happened, he perhaps felt the pain, the anger, the frustration, suffering that Jongin did, but was it him who went through what Jongin did? no. The answer was a big no, and that was what made the difference.

There was a thing Sehun knew (he did not know if others felt that too), when the heart loved, and mind aimed, everything of the loved one became one with own. With him, that happened too. Jongin’s past was a conversation between them; something horrible that Jongin went through was merely a conversation between them two; exchange of words, an exchange of a story untold before; and the transfer of a bunch of emotions from the speaker to the listener. That was what it was, to put it bluntly. What Jongin went through, Sehun could not feel it personally. That was where the helplessness came from. That was exactly where he felt useless in his role in this transition, and this tragedy of Jongin’s life. What could he do? What could he do? The question was a permanent part of his life, and it was not easy to answer, too.

Often at nights, he would wake up and tuck away the worries of the waking life somewhere in the back of his mind, and then he would give the right mind to Jongin. Jongin alone. He would watch him sleep soundly like a baby boy, and he would watch him struggle like a baby boy. The juxtaposition was so glaring: the first brought relief, the second immense confusion, anger, stress, and anxiety. He would sleep soundly, and Sehun would watch; he would struggle in his sleep, and Sehun would still watch. There it was, the hopelessness. What could he do to help him? Nothing. No amount of research on the ‘almighty’ internet could tell him how to help someone through their horrible nightmares. In the world of connectivity on the internet, Sehun knew they all had lost the touch of humanity.

So, as useless as he was in such a situation, he would wipe Jongin’s tears, a recurring thing during some nights, or he would hold his hand. Sometimes when looking at Jongin would get particularly difficult, he would hug him to his chest and then stare at the wall in the dim lighting of the moonlight for the next several hours.

Though it was all natural now, it took some visible effects on him, too. Like, he got some light circles under his eyes, and a tired and sore disposition that was almost impossible to hide. What did Jongin do? He got fussy; he got fussier enough that Sehun worried how much he thought of him. The first thing that Jongin called him was an ugly pig, before he helped him through some make-up while he furiously spouted some much needed apologies of having lied to Sehun, because he was so very handsome. Sehun knew not what made Jongin say and do that, but it could be because of his unusual poutiness around Jongin and his insults. It was default: Jongin would insult, he would pout, Jongin would get flustered, and then get all fussy like a mother hen.

It was all so well, and so easy around Jongin. During his days, he did not need to worry about anything; he only needed to care that Jongin did not overwork himself. During the nights, he could sleep holding him, or when days were particularly hard, he would watch the younger sleep (or struggle). It became a routine of some sort, and Sehun was carelessly getting too much accustomed to it all. So much so that, not having to do all that made me anxious, snappish, and perhaps a lot cocky and rude too. But, it was all well. Because Jongin was there, and it was easy to feel for him.

***

Life returned to the company, too; especially after the downfall of a particular company even though it did affect their company a lot more than they had expected. The company, whose name Sehun did not like to take, had a wider reach around the market and the economy. The company was spread around like an eagle; wild, and hungry for more money. Though its reach was already known to Sehun, the actual realisation only came after Jongin told him the name. Then, it was some sort of mission for him to work day and night to bring their own company up, and the other as down as any company could go, and they did. So much so that Sehun was sure if the family members of the molestor did not find another way to earn money, they would be scraping for waste in the next few years. Though he never did consider himself cruel, the news and the thought were oddly satisfying. Especially the satisfied smile on Jongin’s face.

The knowledge of Jongin’s past hurt him.

It hurt him enough that the event became a part of his waking life, and even of his dreams. Often than not, he would struggle to contain the history to himself; his parents would be sitting on the other side, waiting for him to speak anything, but he would be silenced by an unknown presence of a promise that though he made, he could hardly keep. What was the worst that could happen if his family knew anyway? They could share the same anger, and resentment for the molester, anything else could not happen. He knew it was better if it was a secret, but he was a spoiled child; he never had to keep his thoughts to himself in all his life, and it was proving difficult day by day. But, a promise was a promise, and Sehun swore to protect it for as long as possible.

Then Jongin had to do it.

He himself told his parents about the incident, accepted that Sehun had lied about his health, and that he could not bear children. There it was, all out in the open. Though Sehun had wanted it to be out in front of everyone, it felt like he had been out of life when it actually came in open. He did not know why, but he then wanted it all to go back so that he could turn around and stop Jongin from speaking anything at all. Could that have been possible? Most likely not. Jongin wanted it out, too, and that was why he spoke in the end anyway. Even though he seemed reluctant at first, almost afraid, he knew there was no way they could hide something as big as that for long; for Jongin only had them as parents left, his own had backstabbed him. He wanted to keep them, and that was why he spoke. Still, it detested Sehun gravely.

He should have talked beforehand before taking any step further. He should have. He told himself. But, was Jongin a man who listened to another when he was set on something? No. He was not. The conversation would have been futile. Yet, it should have happened. Anyway, it did not bring any resentment between them, and that was what mattered the most to Sehun.

In fact, it brought them closer than before.

When did he know he was in love? He did not know the exact point, but he knew the moment that desire rushed through his veins at a speed greater than ever before, and when his hands felt empty because he was not holding Jongin against himself. It was so simple, yet almost a watershed moment for him. It was passionate, yes it was. Sehun knew. Jongin, hopefully, knew as well.

It was not really a completely innocuous moment either.

It was right after a tumble on the bed; Jongin, pretty, sweet, and sweaty underneath him, with a whine stuck in his throat, and eyes heavy and cheeks flushed, had said something. Sehun would like to keep it to himself. And, he felt; he felt something right at that moment, something so powerful that it viciously, without mercy, shook his heart. His disposition wavered, and he breathed, and then felt more. Was it exactly how the realisation struck an admirer when he accepted his admiration for someone? Sehun did not know. It was not felt before. He accepted his fate, and he accepted Jongin, too. It was so very easy, too. It was easy to describe what exactly happened,

He hovered over him, covered him with his own beefy frame before he placed a hand over Jongin's eyes; huge, rough, and calloused over the soft skin of the younger man. It was some sort of beauty, the juxtaposition. It silenced Jongin, and aroused him, in more ways than one. Jongin’s breathing grew heavier, as if he felt what he felt too, and his cheeks flushed more, his mouth opened for him. He leaned down, and kissed him like that. That was, perhaps, the most intimate kiss that they shared. Jongin was almost fragile at the moment, he trusted him so much, when Sehun the thirst out of him. Then, made him more thirsty. His mouth soft and succulent was a delight, a treat, and his skin baby soft under his touch. He took care of himself so well, he thought, and looked so much like a beauty that Sehun had never seen before. He was fine. He was stunning, gorgeous. He was Sehun’s.

That was the moment, when Jongin trusted him so much, that he realised that he felt a lot more than expected; and that, he was in love.

***

Kissing him once like that, his hand covering Jongin’s eyes, became an obsession once it started. He would kiss him like that almost every other day; he would cover his eyes, hover over him, and kiss him; it depended what the mood was like: whether he wanted it to be feather-soft, or messy and thirsty. Jongin almost never said anything, too. He would give in. Sometimes, he would whine, but that was it. Perhaps it was the submissiveness, thatJongin lacked anywhere outside of the bedroom, the reason for it. Whatever it was, Jongin liked it, and Sehun enjoyed it. So, it was easy. Sehun loved. Jongin reciprocated.

Then came Jongin’s family; desperate, though they behaved like they did not need Jongin’s help. Arrogance, and pride perhaps. Their dislike for Jongin was clear and obvious in their expressions, their gaits, and their ways of talking. They did not like Jongin, especially not when the anonymous declaration of ual harassment. The molestor’s image was tarnished, and apparently, Jongin’s family had done some great dealings with him in the past couple of months. Well, there it was: the sinking ship.

“You don’t talk to us anymore,” Jongin’s mother complained, smiling fake and saccharine sweet. It was so annoying a sight that Sehun felt disgusted.

“You don’t call me either,” Jongin answered dryly. “Besides, I am a little busy with the new company. Need to give my husband a hand, now that we know he’s a sore loser.” He looked over at Sehun, tone mocking though it had no bite in it.

He laughed with a roll of his eyes, and passed an unimpressed look at Jongin. “Yeah, need his help. Like tons of it.” It was the truth anyway.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you’ll forget your actual family for your new family, too.” Mrs Kim bit, her irritation and frustration arose. “We don’t call does not mean you won’t either, Jongin. We’re your elders.”

“That I can see.”

“Jongin,” the woman warned.

“Mrs. Kim,” he dived in, “is there something Jongin and I can help you with?”

She must have been ashamed of whatever she was demanding because she kept mum for some time. “Nothing,” she answered finally, “I just came here to see him. You too. Hope you’re taking care of him.” She looked over at Jongin. “Ask for help whenever you need, Jongin. God knows how much you need it.”

Her tone was snappish, mocking even, and it must have hurt Jongin enough that when she left he asked Sehun to leave him alone for some time in their bedroom. Sehun did, and listened to long uneven breathing, and silenced cries through the other side of the door for hours to come. Then, the same evening, they went to the same cafe that Jongin had fallen in love with after that night. He seemed bubly, but lost, too; like he had accepted it, what life threw at him in his face. It must be hard, to accept that, Sehun thought, to accept those who were supposed to love, forgot to love.

“I want to go to Switzerland again,” Jongin began, and recited a few names that he had in his mind before stopping at Goa. “The first time that I went there was with my grandfather, it was the best tour of my life. I was eight back then, so as cool and best it could be for a boy of that age. Anyway! It was beautiful, and it was amazing in a hundred ways. I want to go there again. Can we go there, please?”

“Uh,” he said, “sure, why not.” He sipped on his coffee.

“Also a couple of Russian cities. Have heard a lot about them, so wanna visit them, too.”

“Okay, alright?”

“A couple of European cities, too! Maybe we can go to Canada while we’re at it?”

“They’re far apart,” he reminded.

“Doesn’t matter. Does that matter? What matters is that we can go, and we will go. So, can we go please?”

How could he deny Jongin anything under the stars and the moon when he made a face like that? “Yeah, wherever you say.”

Jongin grinned, and sat back on his seat with great satisfaction. His pout was so lovely, Sehun thought with a sigh. How did he manage to score a life with this man he would never know. “I see you don’t deny me anything anymore,” Jongin murmured, tone almost demure and shy unlike how he usually was. “What do I take it as?”

“Anything that your heart says.”

Jongin swallowed, and looked at him from beneath his eyelashes, coyly. “I will, husband.”

He grinned. "That good, husband."

***

Going back to the company on days where Jongin was too busy somewhere else was a trouble Sehun wanted to keep away from; it was an anxiety of some sort, and perhaps a little bit of petulant energy that often wavered his focus from the goal of the company. It was not like they had diverted from what was initially their plan for their company, but Sehun--his heart belonged to some place else; with Jongin, and around Jongin. It was hard focusing on anything else, whether it was during long hours of meeting with important people, or his friendly time spent with his friends, or even during the brooding time in the office. It was almost like he withered more in Jongin’s absence, and came back to life only when he was near him. It was a funny sort of feeling. Perhaps that was a side effect of being in love. Sehun would not know. He did not remember the time he was not in love with Jongin; it was nebulous.

Then came the source of the unnecessary headache: Kim Junmyeon; apparently he was the best ex of Jongin, and had left the country to pursue his career in law. He had succeeded in achieving what he was aiming for, and had only come back because he heard about them. Or so he said. Sehun was not impressed, and thus wore a nonchalant expression in his presence. Jongin barely looked his way when Junmyeon was present, and thus there was no one to remind him to behave. He was a grown man, and he knew how to handle things, or so he told himself.

Yet, after the first week passed, and Junmyeon paid a regular visit to them (Jongin, of course not for his husband), and spent quite an unusual time cuddled with Jongin in one corner of the living room couch, Jongin almost in his lap (what the hell in the name of Thor was that kind of behavior!), and left only in the late evening (after Jongin cooked him his favorite dish, with enough love that it had Sehun biting his nails in worry and jealousy), he grabbed Jongin off his wheelchair, his hold possessive around Jongin’s waist, and screwed him over the work table in the mini office he had made in one of the guest bedrooms (which was not a guest bedroom anymore but his mini office to work on papers that he could not at the company). Jongin, dazed and glowly after being ruffled so silly on the work table, came back to his senses only when Sehun had his mouth on his chest. He was mewling, and it was the most delightful of sounds that Sehun had ever heard.

A mewling Jongin reminded Sehun of a kitty scenario that often played in his head, and his girth thickened at the thought of Jongin in laces. Jesus Christ. He was getting adventurous.

Jongin mewled, and grabbed him around his hair, his hold baby like soft. It barely hurt, but it was enough to drive Sehun crazy. “Sehun,” he whined, eyes shining with tears, “what is it?”

“What is.” He stood up straighter, his broad frame hovered over Jongin and his sudden incredibly tiny frame. How did he do that? Sehun often wondered. How did he look so small next to him? He rolled his hands over the thickness on Jongin’s chest, little s that would have swelled a little more had Jongin conceived a baby. He grabbed him around the ankles, and brought his husband closer. “What is what?”

“This is so sudden. Not that I didn’t like it!” He gave a gummy smile, eyes shining with some remaining feistiness and shamelessness. Sehun wanted to screw him further, so that he had nothing but a baby in his arms; devoid of any arrogant and cocky nature, even if that would happen only for some time.

"What bothers you so much?" He slipped back to his initial position, and mapped Sehun's face with his toe. It was, as much as he would deny later, arousing. Jongin poked around on his face with his cute, little toe. It was a slobbering and messy movement; for Jongin's foot could not find the support it needed; his foot slipped several times. Sehun wanted to grab him around his ankle, and kiss him all over his foot. "What got you ruffled so much?"

"You should ask yourself that," he snarled, though there was no heat behind his tone "how is that you spend so much time with your ex?"

Jongin looked surprised for all two seconds before he grinned, proud and amused. "You did not feel it all over again."

He tried to stop himself, but the pout came anyway. "I so did not." He smoothed his hands over Jongin's soft thighs, finding comfort in how heaven-like they felt. Jongin had shaved his legs. When? he did not know. How? he did not know. "You were all over his lap, though. What are you gonna do tomorrow? allow him into our bed, so that he can do you silly all over again?"

Jongin laughed, even though the words were cruel, and uncalled for. "Oh my god. You're jealous again."

"I am not."

"You so are." Jongin giggled. "God, you're such a jealous person." When he tried to leave, Jongin wrapped his thighs around his waist. He could move, he could leave, if he wanted to. But, he wanted to stay, because he was not really angry. It was the truth after all: he was jealous.

"You don't have to worry, though. Junmyeon and I don't share the same feelings anymore."

He knew. Of course. But, then again. Jealousy rarely listened to anyone and anything.

"We really don't," he said again, seriously and carefully. "We separated on friendly terms, and it's been so long that we don't even have the chance. We both have grown so much, Sehun. You don't have to be… jealous." He smiled, as if sharing a secret with himself that Sehun was unaware of.

"Perhaps you're right," he said, and leaned further over Jongin, their faces inches away. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I am just looking for reasons to do you silly."

The whimper that was stuck in his Jongin's throat only came out now. Sehun had his arms around him, and Jongin barely could move. "Sehun," he whined.

“What?” He asked, sounding like he was annoyed when in fact, he was not. He was just… in control, and it was driving him nuts. “I am jealous, so what? Does that make me invalid that I hate your ex because he’s getting too close and personal with you?”

“I never said that,” Jongin laughed, returning back to his usual cockiness. “God, you’re such a whiny child. I like that, though,” he said in hushed whispers as if worried that he might offend Sehun’s ego in some ways. “Should I engage my time with every man that I come across to have you like this?” He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Have me like this or have you like this?”

Jongin’s breath hitched. “It's the same thing,” he claimed, tone pouty and whiny. His face got a deep shade of red though. He grinned.

He shook his head and grabbed around Jongin’s ankles to pull him closer again. “It so is not.”

***

Jongin and Junmyeon used to date three years ago; and dated for nearly two years before they separated on good terms. Jongin had to focus on his company, and Junmyeon on his own future in Law. They still talked though; through calls or messages on a daily basis, before their future separated them a little and the conversations that happened everyday happened on alternate days or, on rare weeks, in the weekend. What Sehun gathered was that they were once in love, a lot, and happened to spend their time with each other more and than on anyone else; Jongin’s situation brought them closer too, because Jongin needed a kind hand, and Junmyeon apparently was the kindest to him, alongside Jung.

Junmyeon and Jongin met in a cafe, and became instant friends. Right before their friendship jumped into the second month, they started dating, and had been blissful together. Junmyeon understood him, though he knew nothing of what actually had transpired, and stood by him, he heard him and listened to him, and Jongin was happy. Then came the choice of separate future; their interests lied in different fields and sense of responsibility too. They separated, and Jongin bid him sweet goodbye on their last meeting.

After that, they met only now. After Jongin and him were married, the news reached overseas. Junmyeon heard, and he came to personally meet Jongin, and him (though he always seemed more interested in Jongin than anyone else around). He was polite, though, and when his parents met Junmyeon (him being introduced as Jongin’s long time friend), his parents wondered if Sehun could ever have been that polite and kind. Sehun had to roll his eyes.

(Apparently, Junmyeon was also amazing at screwing Jongin--as admitted by Jongin himself--and Sehun to trample his jealousy down, because how could he talk about another man like that when Sehun was around! It was clear why Jongin was doing that, but Sehun would rather not hear it at all.)

All in all, Jongin presented Junmyeon as a man who could go as close to perfect as was possible for defaults that were humans. He talked politely to him, too, however many times Sehun dismissed him away with great impoliteness. As much as it hurt Sehun’s ego to admit it, Junmyeon was a good man. He hated him still, though. One day, Junmyeon talked to him about everything; everything that centered around Jongin. He was polite in his manner of speaking, kind and soft-spoken, and as much as Sehun would like to deny it, Sehun envied him. He envied him tons (and perhaps that was where the jealousy came in).

“I am happy that you’re with him,” Junmyeon began, smiling like an adult that he was. “Jongin always wanted to marry someone relient, I guess you are one. Though you definitely need to work on it a lot,” he added with a careful whisper. He grinned, as if he were sharing a joke with a close friend. He rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway. “Are you happy with him?”

“I am,” he replied, without a wasted second.

“Good. That means you try your best to keep him happy, too.”

“I hope.” He laughed, a little thing from the back of his throat. “I guess.”

Junmyeon smiled. “I am glad.” At least he sounded like he was. “I know Jongin more than you, alright,” he began all of a sudden, “and I know things when I see them. You don’t have to be scared of my presence in his life, Sehun. You’ve already made a permanent spot there.”

He swallowed. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s not difficult to understand the easy words, Sehun,” he said kindly, “Jongin considers you important. He considers you a lot more. I am not going to give you advice and reasons, mostly obvious ones--that’s not my job. I would rather tell you to make sure you let your feelings known. Sometimes waiting can ruin potential elements from some things.”

He swallowed, again. “I guess,” he said intengentelly.

“There’s nothing between Jongin and I, if you’re worried about it. It once was, but it could not be anymore. So, don’t worry about that, okay? You just worry about one thing, make sure he knows, alright. He’s slow.”

“Yeah, I guess.” His face reddened. Was he so easy for strangers to read into his thoughts?

“I am pretty sure you know what he has been through. So, help him with his past, will you? He would help you with your life.” Junmyeon stood next to him, his hands tight on the railings. "He's amazing. Jongin, I mean. He hasn't told you everything, because telling one something and experiencing it on your own are two very different things. He would not tell you a lot of things, but don't you worry! You'll learn to understand him in time.

"His family has not treated him the best; their hatred mostly born out of jealousy, and Jongin's immense interest in setting his own standards and boundaries even in a situation like his." He stood silent for some moments, perhaps thinking about something that Sehun could not. "I know what you did with the company--I just don't know why you two did it. But, it was well. He was a bastard anyway. Good thing.

"But, take care of each other, okay? Don't be jealous, and don't question everything that you feel and do not feel. Things will come around."

He turned to look at Sehun with a smile that seemed responsible, and something of his age. He really sounded and looked like a brother, and Sehun wondered if he had judged this man too quick. He was a good person, and Sehun understood why he was one of Jongin's favorites.

Junmyeon smiled, a fire in his eyes and his face flushed with excitement of playing around. "But, yes, it's the truth."

He raised an eyebrow, eyeing the man's current crooked grin. "What is?" He asked, nervously, curiously, and with enough confusion that it should shame Sehun.

"I was amazing at screwing Jongin." He winked, grinned, and left the balcony to find Jongin in the apartment. He was whistling to some cheesy tune, and Sehun could not believe how annoying he was. How could he even let himself believe that this man was any good.

***

Later, when they stood in the terrace: Jongin leaning heavily over the railings, and covered in warmest of clothes, and a bear comforter stretched over his lap; he, eyes ahead at the starless night sky, he thought he could do this for their whole lives. Even old and grey, he would be happy with Jongin. That much was undeniable. Sehun wanted it to prove to his younger husband. The problem was: he was rather clueless but the big question: How? Since the words and thoughts would not come to him, he stayed silent and let it be as it was. Besides, he believed, he did not need to say everything. Some things were meant to be understood by heart, without words and gentle guidance, or insistence and pleas. Jongin would, he knew.

“When are we going to Switzerland?”

He sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know. We can go now, but who would look after the company.”

Jongin pouted, the baby that he was; he thought Jongin’s poutiness was constantly increasing around him. Was that not a good sign of trust? Or perhaps, he thought with a flush, Jongin was just getting more demanding and was perhaps just seeking his attention more and more. What could draw anyone’s attention to Jongin's mouth if not his adorable pouts. Huh. He believed he was a goner. “I really want to visit it though. It has been such a long time.”

“We will, I promise. I will just check in with my parents. They can afford a few weeks of our absence.”

“How about we go and meet my uncle instead?” Jongin suggested, some moments later. “You can finally meet my niece and nephew. They are adorable.” His eyes sparkled. “They’re the loveliest. You’ll find them so cute!”

“Jongin,” he smiled and added, “we met them last week.”

“Can’t we meet them again, though?” He sounded pouty yet again.

“Of course we can. But, you yourself said they’re visiting the town. How would we ever meet them there? I think we can wait for them to come back.”

Jongin pouted. “I was just checking with you, dumb, wanted to check if you remember te affairs of my life or not.”

“Affairs of your life?”

“Affairs of my life,” he agreed with a gummy smile.

Look, one thing was very clear to Sehun: living with Jongin was fun: he was kind and generous with his words; he was soft spoken and he rarely snapped and looked irritated with him; he was beautiful, gorgeous and a hundred things pretty. Jongin was a sight, Sehun was hung up on him. Living with Jongin never felt like a chore, and the more he fell the more he resigned, and the more it felt safe and precious to him.

With the passing time, they all came close in the end, and perhaps the knowledge of Jongin’s past brought his parents near Jongin, too; so much so, that the elder Ohs barely made Jongin feel like he was the new addition in their family; for them, as they said, Jongin was always a part of their little family. In May, after the approval and gentle guidance of both the parents, they decided to adopt a little baby boy from the near orphanage. They named him Baekhyun, and thus their little family was complete, for now.

After, by the first week, they realised that taking care of a baby was not easy; as much as it had been exaggerated in the social circle, it was true that babies needed more care and gentleness than an adult did; even a slight hold on their frame could result in something much more disastrous: their infamous crying session. The first time that he made a mistake was when Jongin was on the phone with the Chief Executive of their company, and he had been asked to take care of the little infant in his absence. He swore he was holding onto Baekhyun the tightest and the gentlest, but Baekhyun was a hyperactive infant; wriggling in his hold as if he wanted to be anywhere but in his Daddy’s arms. Then, he received a call on his own phone, and he had just turned the slightest to check who was the caller when Baekhyun slightly slipped out of his hold and almost fell on the carpeted floor. Scared, he jerked the baby right the next second, but the movement was too tumtulous and perhaps scared and shook Baekhyun, too, for he started crying so loud that Sehun was sure that the entire neighbourhood heard.

Jongin came sooner than he had expected; wide-eyed and so worried Sehun was sure he was going to sleep on the couch if Jongin were to know what exactly happened. He decided to keep his mouth shut as long as Jongin did not prod for an answer. “What happened?” Jongin shrieked, and took Baekhyun from his hands. “Why did he suddenly start crying?”

“Don’t know,” he answered, and swallowed. He watched in silence as Jongin soothed the anxious infant, and cooed at him lovingly. Sehun was sure he could not do either. Bakhyun blabbered something to Jongin, as if complaining about him and then cooed into his cheek. “I think he’s just hungry?” He suggested the lie. Perhaps Jongin would buy into it.

Jongin did. Thank god for small mercies. “Yeah, he could be. Heat the milk will you? I will think about his food.”

“Sure, why not.” He stood up, and after a kiss pressed to Jongin’s forehead (and one on Baekhyun's, which the infant refused with a sob), he made a beeline for the kitchen. That was when Jongin spoke, “next time when you’re with Baekhyun, treat him kindly, will you?”

Oh. God. He sighed and banged his head against the kitchen wall. “Sure, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, good.” Thus, Jongin was lost in the baby duties.

After that, Baekhyun rarely liked being in his arms; every single time he asked for him, he would crawl back, or start crying if he picked him up anyway. Jongin would come, sigh, and take the infant in his arms in the end. Baekhyun would go back to his normal self. It seemed like it would never end, this--whatever dissatisfaction Baekhyun harboured for him. However, it did. Though slowly; so slow that Sehun was sure it was not happening at all. That happened in Jongin’s absence, when he would be at the company and he would be asked to take care of Baekhyun. The infant not having his Papa around anymore would turn to his Daddy for the company. By the fourth time that they were left together, Baekhyun probably had forgotten about the little incident. Thus, they came close, and Baekhyun liked being with him more than ever; if not more than Jongin--because if were to be honest, Jongin was good at winning over children. Baekhyun was the love and life for him, and Jongin was the caregiver.

Thus, the happy little family of Oh was established.

What remained was to share those words between them. That, too, he knew would happen soon enough.

Baekhyun’s arrival in their lives had helped them move further towards each other, almost unknowingly and unconsciously; it happened, but no one noticed; not the bystanders, nor those whom around those changes revolved around. It happened, and it unfolded in front of them all of a sudden; as if it had always been there, though hidden in little boxes that each hid in their chests, and just needed noticing. When they did, it came alive. It was out all in the open. What they needed to do now was accept it, surrender to the sheer power of it, and move on knowing that they were to be together for as long as life (and perhaps death, too) took them.

Sehun had accepted that a long time ago, but he both needed to hear from Jongin and confirm it. Besides, Jongin was the kindest, there was no way he would not feel the same--or so he hoped.

On one late Sunday evening in the late May, when Baekhyun was asleep between them, and he held Jongin’s hand over Baekhyun’s tiny frame, Jongin looked at him sleepy eyed, he promised him that he would stay. Jongin smiled, perhaps did not understand the weight of the words (or he did, but Sehun was too blind with insecurity to feel it or know it), and promised that he would, too.

That was perhaps not all that he expected himself to say or expected to hear in return, but it was precious anyway, and--it mattered. Jongin was his; he was Jongin’s; and Baekhyun was theirs. When he would turn back in time and think about the beginning, he would laugh at the changed circumstances--he had never expected anything to become of their beginning. But, it was all that they had become: everything. Perhaps, that was what mattered, and not those cliche, infamous three words.

But, he would still say and wait for Jongin’s in return: I love you, my dear but insanely dumb husband.