Chanyeol rubbed tiredly at his temple and sighed. He wished his husband were home—Junmyeon always was so much better with the boys than Chanyeol seemed to be, and frankly Chanyeol just missed him—but Junmyeon was away for business and wouldn't be home for another day at least.

"Please, love?" Chanyeol pleaded with his son, who was all of four years old and still apparently impossible to reason with. "Just one bite?"

Jongdae shook his head. His breath shuddered slightly and Chanyeol's panic grew; Jongdae could probably cause a black out if he got upset enough—they figured he'd manifest with electrokinesis, once he was old enough. Desperate, Chanyeol turned to his slightly younger son.

"Sehun, baby, why don't you tell your brother how yummy your dinner is?"

Sehun complied, smiling widely to show Jongdae all of the delicious food stuck in between his teeth. Good enough, Chanyeol figured, though he knew Junmyeon would chide their child ever so gently were he home. At this point, Chanyeol couldn't care less about three-year-old Sehun's table manners, not if that brilliant smile got Jongdae off the precipice of an oncoming storm.

"I know it's yummy, Appa," Jongdae told his father. His voice was a whimper and Chanyeol knew he'd lost the fight when Jongdae began to cry. "That's why I'm sad!"

Chanyeol didn't understand that reasoning exactly, but Jongdae had been pretty excited by the flame Chanyeol had produced to grill the sausages in the first place, so Chanyeol didn't really understand any of this.

"You're sad because you can't eat the yummy food that Appa made for you?" Chanyeol just had to ask. "Why don't you eat what's right there, on your plate?"

The lights flickered where they say together at the kitchen table; Jongdae sniffled; Sehun continued to make a mess as he ate, happily oblivious.

"It's to cute," Jongdae whispered tearfully. "Like Sehunnie. I can't eat Sehunnie!"

Sehun shrieked in laughter. He evidently thought the whole thing was a game, and even lifted his shirt up so his brother could have prime access to blowing raspberries onto his belly.

"Can't eat Sehunnie?" He asked curiously when Jongdae continued to sniffle.

"Not today, baby," Chanyeol cooed to his younger son as he tried to avoid a second breakdown. To Jongdae he said softly, "What would you like Appa to do, Dae?" He looked down at the sausage cut into small slices and arranged into a smile. "Should I make the face sad?"

The power cut off; that would be a no, then.

Chanyeol was quick to produce a little flame for light so Sehun wouldn't also start to cry.

"It's too cute to be sad," Jongdae informed Chanyeol. "I want it to keep its smile."

"But what about your smile, love?" Chanyeol asked his son as he reached across the table to light a candle they always kept around for moments just like this.

"Hyung," Sehun piped up, mouth full of food, "Smile!" The younger boy smiled broadly again and this time Chanyeol felt the need to speak up, in case open-mouthed eating became a habit.

"Sehun," he began. He was interrupted.

"Baby, you know Appa and I would prefer if you ate with your mouth closed." Junmyeon was home, an entire day early. Chanyeol felt he'd never been so happy to see his husband.

Junmyeon rubbed his thumb over Jongdae's tear-stained cheeks, literally evaporating the dampness from his son's face. "And you. Jongdae, love, how are you going to grow big and tall like your Appa if you don't eat your dinner?"

Chanyeol wasn't sure if the genetics of Jongdae's birth parents promised height in his son's future, but the mere possibility was miraculously enough to get some food into Jongdae's mouth.

The power flickered back on the moment Jongdae calmed down, and Chanyeol snuffed the candle.

"Welcome home," he greeted his husband, finally. Junmyeon leaned over his shoulder from behind and kissed the corner of Chanyeol's mouth. Jongdae and Sehun both giggled. "You're a miracle worker," Chanyeol breathed in relief.

Junmyeon pecked him again, this time square on the mouth. "Flatterer," he whispered against his husband's lips.