what started out as a casual fling between teenagers led to a somewhat inevitable downturn of events. jinri called him one evening, sobbing uncontrollably through the static, 'i'm with child,' and sehun slumped to the floor of his dorm in utter disbelief. jongin threw him a concerned look from his side of the room before sehun bolted right out the door, running 'til his legs ached and his body collapsed in the biting cold of february.

he is to be a father.






‘chanyeolie,’ sehun affectionately coaxes his son awake, a mess of dark locks and a pair of protruding ears atop the star wars bed sheets on a cloudless monday morn. ‘wake up, wake up, it’s your first day of school!’

the five-year-old grumbles, squirming to break free from his father’s threatening hands to his sides. ‘appa, no tickling!’ but sehun ignores his plea, jabbing playful fingers on his ribs to wake him. chanyeol cackles and wriggles, ‘no, appa—ack! i’m up, i’m up!’

sehun stops to embrace him, flooding his little prince with “cooties” that chanyeol breaks into peals of laughter once more. ‘alright, yoda bear, time to get ready!’

chanyeol shrieks at the first sight of lucky charms come breakfast, running down the steps to the kitchen table in haste. ‘slow down, tiger,’ sehun calls out, amused. ‘you wouldn’t wanna make a mess out of your new shirt, right?’

milk and cereal pieces dribble down chanyeol’s chin. sehun dabs a paper towel on his face, chuckling as he did so. he unties his apron with a hand, and packs chanyeol’s lunch box with a ham-and-cheese-with-extra-ham-and-cheese sandwich and a carton of apple juice. dirty dishes are put to the sink, dirty clothes are thrown in the hamper, and for finality, sehun leaves jongin a post-it note by the fridge: there’s leftover lasagna, make sure to eat before you leave. ‘ready to go?’

chanyeol jumps from his seat enthusiastically and takes his appa’s hand in his. ‘ready!’






his son was born in the winter, november snow cascading down in soft showers at dawn as sehun runs through the ill-lit streets of metropolitan seoul. he made it to the hospital in his pajamas, gasping for air past the white corridors in an attempt to steady his breathing. he took a careful step inside the room, feet heavy with tension and uncertainty. jinri refused to look at him, kept a steady gaze outside the window as if pleading for an escape from a sin—a mistake. sehun heard a faint sound of wailing from the other side of the room as the nurse approached him with a fond smile, ‘it’s a boy.’

there were tears in sehun’s eyes, warmth in his fingertips, and he whispered chanyeol like the name came as natural as breathing.

and just as the sun began to rise, sehun held his son for the first time.






‘here we are.’ the sign reads sunnyside preschool in red bolded font, its exterior wall painted with a smiling yellow sun with children frolicking in the vast meadow of flowers—tulips, sehun notes—below. ‘wow,’ chanyeol seems pleased with the mural, and so was sehun that neither noticed they were staring ‘til a petite brunette looks up at them from his crouched position. ‘hello!’

sehun almost jumps out of his skin when his eyes land on a shorter man, paint staining his yellow apron in colorful disarray. he hadn’t even seen anyone there, but the first thing he does notice about the stranger is his smile, lips pulled back in a beam bright enough to put the morning sun to shame. ‘h-hi.’

bowing slightly at sehun’s greeting, the stranger bends down to chanyeol’s level, hands on his knees, and asks, ‘will you be joining us here at sunnyside?’

chanyeol flashes him a set of pearly whites and nods. ‘my name is chanyeol! nice to meet you!’

‘what a beautiful name! i’m baekhyun and i’ll be one of your teachers here,’ he pats the child’s head affectionately. ‘you’re just in time, chanyeol-ah. welcome to sunnyside!’

baekhyun leads them in, ‘let me give you a quick tour of the place,’ and stepping inside the room was like some sort of childlike wonderland—the room was littered with toys of various kinds, puzzle mats and shelves of books strewn and neatly arranged on almost every corner. in the middle was a small picket fence, separating the equally small round work tables and chairs from the mini indoor playground.

‘we’re quite new, so we’ve only got a handful of students for now,’ baekhyun pipes in, gesturing for chanyeol to wander about, but kisses his appa goodbye before joining the other kids for a game of marco polo. baekhyun reads sehun’s wary expression like an open book, which anyone would consider a talent, given his rather stoic facade. ‘don’t worry,’ he smiles at him reassuringly, ‘he’ll be safe here, i can promise you that.’

sehun merely nods, somewhat surprised, and puts his faith and trust in this man. he offers a handshake and a diffident smile. ‘i’m sehun, by the way.’

‘baekhyun.’

and sehun thinks he’s never seen a smile so breathtaking.

he is captivated—entranced, attracted, what have you—as he comes back the next day, and the day after that. it is a much different wave of emotions, of butterflies and warmth and baekhyun, altogether familiar and true and something so much more.

he inadvertently thinks it's love at first sight.

 

for a good two weeks, sehun arrives a few minutes before chanyeol’s class starts and ends just so he could spare a glance at the preschool teacher who teaches with love and happiness in his eyes. he learns of their two-year , and in between his visits does he meet teachers "angry bird" yifan, “little deer” luhan, and “dimple guy” yixing, who have art, sports, and music to offer the too-eager students of sunnyside. the school owner, “junmen” junmyeon, makes himself known, as well. ‘why these dorks call me junmen,’ he tells sehun, head tilted towards the teachers amusedly, ‘is a mystery to me. but i trust them, so i guess it’s alright.'

sometimes, in the afternoon, sehun would race to the preschool, having been held back for extra minutes because your grades have been dropping, sehun-ah, and his professor had this pitied look, and he hated it. he would leave in haste with an apology and a promise to do better, crumpled answer sheet between his fingers.

when he would arrive, chanyeol would be sitting with baekhyun on the sidewalk, entranced by what sehun would overhear as fire-breathing dragons clashing with swordsmen in the dead of winter or true love’s kiss working its magic to break the evil witch’s wretched curse, and there is warmth pooling in the pit of his stomach as he watches them from a few steps away.

it is baekhyun who notices him first, approaches him with a pleased smile with chanyeol in tow, 'he's a wonderful kid. he has easily become my favorite, to be honest,’ he says gleefully, sehun ducking down to carry his son in his arms. ‘you might want to consider enrolling him in a music school. he's grown quite fond of yixing's guitar.'

‘i will, hyung.’ sehun thanks him for the umpteenth time, and apologizes for his delay. baekhyun opens his mouth as if to say something, but nothing comes out to fill the silence. he shakes his head and sends them off with a wave, still smiling despite the uncertainty. 'i’ll see you tomorrow!’

‘you should just ask him out, you know,’ jongin suggests that evening, cradling a rubber ducky as he sits through another one of sehun’s spiels about the petite brunette with eyes that shine like stars, ‘and an awfully adorable smile, jongin,’ while the latter, kneeling, plays with chanyeol in his bubble bath. the water was lukewarm and foamy, much to chanyeol’s delight.

‘i can’t just ask him out,’ sehun wrinkles his nose, the tips of his ears flushing a deep red. ‘we haven’t even gone past salutations and parent-teacher talks.’ he pulls the drain plug, and stands to carry chanyeol off the water. jongin rubs the child’s head with a towel so recklessly that it causes chanyeol to laugh out loud in protest, squishes his cheeks in between his hands. ‘aigoo, our chanyeolie is adorable.’

‘it’s still worth a shot,’ jongin pushes, closing the last buttons of chanyeol’s pajamas. sehun hands his son his C3PO toothbrush and brushes away. sehun knows he wants nothing more than to fill that void of longing in his chest—the delicate emptiness he chooses to ignore because chanyeol is much more important than himself. it isn’t until they’ve tucked chanyeol in bed that sehun responds with a rather undecided, ‘we’ll see.’

jongin’s eyes shift to the floor for a second, then looks sehun in the eye. ‘also, uhmm,’ he pulls his best friend by the elbow to the hallway, somewhat rattled and unsure. ‘i’m moving out.’

in the dim light, sehun’s eyes grow suspiciously red, and for a moment he could hardly breathe. ‘b-but, jongin, you said we would raise chanyeol together,’ he quivers, clutching on jongin’s arms as if his life depended on it. ‘how am i supposed to—where do i—i can’t do this alone, jongin-ah, not yet—’

‘sehun,’ jongin could hardly contain his laughter, cups sehun’s cheeks in his hands. ‘sehun, relax, i’m moving out to the apartment across! mrs. hwang is moving out soon. i’m literally a couple of steps away!’

you dumb big-shot dance choreographer, sehun punches his arm rather forcefully, and jongin yelps, but laughs it off, anyway. ‘i’m keeping my promise,’ he tells sehun, linking their pinkies. ‘i’ll still help you raise chanyeol, even if it means fighting for his attention from baekhyun.’

it earns jongin a more forceful sock in the arm. ‘ow!’

they stifle their laughter as they wrestle each other onto the floor, the way they always do, and with tired limbs and heavy breathing, the match comes to a draw.

‘jerk,’ sehun curls against jongin, rubbing sleep off his eyes with his sweater. ‘i’m beat.’

sehun is more than grateful for this friendship, reflecting on how far they’ve come—how despite having been held back for a year in university, jongin stuck with him while he vigorously trained himself to be one of korea's most sought-after choreographers, how they can easily slip naturally into intimacy from merrymaking without transition. sehun learns to accept the possibility of jongin moving on that it dawns to him that he owes his best friend the space, the short extent of distance to welcome possibilities for the latter. the thought leaves uncertainty and a dull ache on sehun’s chest.

in his fingers are jongin’s, hold somewhat pleading and unsure. but in a soft murmur, he says in earnest, ‘thank you, jongin. you mean the world to me.'

jongin manages a low chuckle, ‘likewise,’ and basks in the silence as nostalgia and fatigue slowly seep in.






they moved into a two-bedroom apartment when chanyeol e—a humble abode big enough for three, but lacking space for a growing boy to frolic as he grows out of his onesies. glow-in-the-dark stickers of rocket ships and twinkling stars are plastered on the ceiling of sehun and chanyeol's room, pillowcases and bedsheets blending with their four-walled galactic fortress which alien jongin-appa chooses to conquer with his intergalactic battleship that transcends through time and warp holes!

‘jongin—no, this is how—’

‘i’m trying, i’m trying!’

chanyeol was turning two in a few months yet jongin still struggled to put diapers on him properly. 'you’re bound to become seoul’s ultimate dance choreographer,’ sehun huffed, clearly exasperated, ‘and you can’t even put a toot-ing diaper on!’

sehun had established house rules in lieu of chanyeol’s arrival, and one of them had been to avoid swearing while his son was within earshot, but if the need arises, do use ‘toot’, instead. ‘this isn’t exactly something i can toot-ing learn overnight, sehun-ah,’ jongin told him, pouts unnecessarily. sehun held a wooden spoon on one hand and his history notes on another as he reprimanded jongin for being a “useless ” without him. ‘if i can do it with my eyes closed, so can you.’

with a few adjustments and a final tug on the tape later, jongin succeeded. sehun made him three servings of bibimbap that day.






it’s a good hour before dismissal time that sehun finds himself at the preschool one afternoon. ‘ah, what am i doing—pull yourself together, oh sehun!’ he paces to and fro nervously, earning him a dubious glare from yifan from behind the glass window. it’s me, sehun waves, no need to worry. yifan raises his eyebrows at him (sometimes sehun wonders how children manage to not get intimidated by his eyebrows), gestures for him to come in, so he does. ‘the children aren’t dismissed for another hour—’

‘yeah, i know, i just—’

‘sehun?’ baekhyun appears from behind his coworker, grinning inquisitively. ‘you’re here early.’

‘hi, hyung,’ when baekhyun’s eyes meet his, as if he had been waiting for a while, sehun could only surrender in the moment. with careful steps, he walks towards him and pauses. 'uhmm, i—'

yifan takes it as his cue to leave, but sehun doesn’t miss his mischievous smile before ducking back to the children.

‘what is it?’ baekhyun asks. ‘is something the matter?’

‘i,’ sehun struggles, shifting nervously from foot to foot under baekhyun’s gaze. ‘there's a new ice cream parlor down the street. w-we could maybe bring the kids there for a trip? you know, like a field trip o-or something?' sehuh wants to castrate himself for his cowardice, i'm a poor excuse of a man.

but baekhyun's smile is bright and warm, all kinds of reassuring, just like the first. 'hmm, maybe. but we'll need to hand out permission slips for their parents to sign, then we’d have to leave tomorrow. right?’

'i—oh. yeah, ' sehun deflates.

'we could just buy them ice cream sundaes together,' baekhyun’s eyes light up at his own idea, a sly grin tugging on his lips.

sehun's smile mirrors baekhyun’s, figures it’s a start. 'sure.'

the weather is sehun’s kind of cold, the kind that lets him put on his comfort clothes, yet leaves just a little longing for warmth. the trip was rather short for a proper conversation, yet at a quick span of time, sehun knows how baekhyun ended up as a preschool teacher, the course he took, and the many adventures he had back in university. ‘it’s only been a year since i graduated, actually,' he says. 'i could leave sunnyside, but i’ve grown to really like it there. yifan, yixing, junymeon, and luhan aren’t bad company, either.’

baekhyun is quite the animated talker, sehun discovers, and finds delight in every story told as the smaller man flails his arms about excitedly with every tale. sehun could only spare him a few stories of his own, of how he is where he is at (‘i work at the school library in between classes, and also as a barista at a starbucks nearby on weekends,’), of how chanyeol came to be.

‘i wouldn’t call it bad luck, really,’ sehun continues as they step inside the quaint ice cream parlor, queuing behind two other customers. ‘chanyeol is the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me.’ he tells baekhyun that jinri left for the states to pursue her studies, though the truth behind her motive had clearly been to flee. ‘she just went away, you know? i was left to fend for chanyeol and i. it’s me and him against the world—oh, well, there’s jongin.’

something odd and hollow settles in baekhyun's chest. biting his lip, he eyes sehun inquiringly. ‘jongin?’

‘we grew up together, known each other our whole lives,’ sehun breathes, feeling the sudden need to explain. ‘we’re practically siblings. he was there when no one else was.’

baekhyun struggles to keep himself from smiling, the taller man’s words some sort of assurance. he orders a dozen cups of oreo sundaes for the children and his coworkers, and holds out a sundae cone to sehun, who only manages to throw him a questioning look. ‘what’s this for?’

‘for being a good father to chanyeol,’ baekhyun raises his own cone to bump lightly against sehun’s, as if to give a toast to his good deeds, smiling all the while. ‘he’s one lucky duck to have you.’

sehun laughs wholeheartedly, ‘you’re silly, hyung.’ it’s been tough being a father and a working student bound to graduate a couple of semesters away, but sehun never treated chanyeol as a burden or mistake, but rather, as a blessing. he says thank you and means it.

‘c’mon,’ baekhyun nudges, hooking his arm with sehun’s all too naturally. it takes sehun by surprise, but he accepts it, anyway. ‘we gotta get back before these melt.’

in the sun, baekhyun’s smiles are magnified, reflecting on the curve of sehun’s lips. it is that smile that sehun brings with him everywhere, keeping it in his pocket, in the recesses of his mind—what he sees when he closes his eyes. it is because of that smile that he is able to sit through rounds of boring lecture, and it is that smile that he attempts to wear for himself on a regular basis, and what jongin would mouth as whipped, so ing whipped.
 

baekhyun is the type to wear his heart on his sleeve.

when sehun pays him a visit, he feels light, walking with a spring in his step that even when jongdae and zitao mistakenly stick glue-on eyes on his well-maintained apron or when kyungsoo (‘it was minseok-hyung!’) spills milk all over the floor, there is a blissful smile on his lips as he deals with the damages committed by the “little rascals”. there is something about the younger man that baekhyun is drawn to that he cannot seem to put his finger on, only knowing that he no longer felt a stranger to him, that he wants him there. that he wants him much closer than he’d ever hoped for.

it is yifan who often catches him smiling to himself, allowing the children to paint on his apron, watercolors in haphazard patterns across the yellow. junmyeon hears him humming to love songs to which yixing would play his guitar to, and luhan would roll his eyes, somewhat delighted, because if that’s what love does, i’m not sure i’m up for it.

 

‘hyung!’ sehun arrives late again, leaning on his knees as he catches his breath from running, collecting the droopy-eyed chanyeol in his arms with heated cheeks. ‘i-i’m sorry, my professor, he—’

‘sehun,’ baekhyun starts, albeit anxiously, throwing him a pointed look. ‘are you having trouble with your studies?’

by how pale sehun gets, baekhyun receives an answer. he checks his watch, sighs, ‘wait here,’ and disappears back inside the preschool. after a moment, he emerges free of his yellow apron and a backpack slung on one shoulder. ‘let’s go. i’m tutoring you.’

sehun blinks. ‘what?’

‘don’t play dumb,’ baekhyun teases, pulling him along the sidewalk with a hand to the small of his back, chanyeol sleeping soundly on sehun’s shoulder. ‘you need help, and i’m here to do so.’

‘but, hyung, i don’t have money—’

‘it’s free of charge.’

sehun couldn’t seem to find it in himself to decline, finds out upon settling chanyeol down on his bed that baekhyun was a former TA back in college. ‘are you a nerd or what,’ he jokes, earning him a playful elbow to his ribs from the smaller man.

while sehun boils water for tea, baekhyun finds comfort in looking at picture frames sprawled across an elongated side table, passing each photograph in absolute thought as his eyes land on moments of pure bliss—a candid shot of someone, who he assumes as jongin, and chanyeol laughing, of sehun and chanyeol smiling through half-eaten ice cream cones for what seemed like a first for them, of jongin and sehun in the same uniforms, togetherness immortalized in black and white. he picks one up of the three in matching peace signs and sunny smiles at the top of the namsan tower, traces the frame with his fingers in awe and adoration.

‘hyung,’ sehun distracts him from his trance, sets identical mickey mouse mugs on the table with a small smile.

‘you and jongin, that’s pretty amazing.’ baekhyun murmurs as he leans on the counter, cradling the mug with both hands. what i would give to be so close to you, is what baekhyun wants to say—or sing, perhaps—but bites his tongue and relishes his green tea, instead.

sehun scratches his head, slightly abashed. ‘jongin—he’s, well, how should i say this—my soulmate, for lack of better term. the whole “more than friends, less than lovers” thing.’

the whole time he speaks, baekhyun listens, interjects with ideas and jokes of his own, and in between what seemed like hours of the most random and useless topics of conversation, it felt natural for sehun to invite him for dinner.

‘we’ve forgotten about your studies,’ baekhyun reminds him, though not sounding apologetic at all. sehun shrugs into his third cup of tea, responding rather sheepishly, ‘there’s always tomorrow. besides, i am learning something new.’

baekhyun almost chokes on his tea, stifling a giggle. ‘so am i,’ he says, and volunteers his mediocre cooking skills for supper. ‘i make pretty good kimchi fried rice.’
 

in one of their study sessions, jongin meets baekhyun for the first time, walking in on them bickering over william bramley’s the gods of eden. 'the only extra-terrestrial in this world,’ jongin swears he could hear sehun’s attempt at flirting, ‘is you.’

he clears his throat. both sehun and baekhyun look up to jongin’s impish grin. ‘pardon the intrusion,’ he says, finding pleasure in sehun’s apple red cheeks. ‘i would like to visit my godson, please.’

‘h-he’s in his room,’ sehun gestures for jongin to come over. ‘jongin, this is baekhyun. baekhyun, jongin.’

jongin offers his hand. ‘pleasure. i’ve heard so much about you—’ sehun covers his mouth with a hand, (‘oh, you have?’ baekhyun asks amusedly) and lures him into chanyeol’s room. ‘i’ll be right back!’

jongin his best friend’s fingers, and sehun lets go with a shriek. ‘toot-ing gross, jongin!’

‘go—leave us for your prince charming!’ jongin faints dramatically over a protesting chanyeol upon the bed. sehun kicks his shin. ‘ow!’

‘so, what do you think, what do you think?’ sehun asks through giggles, pulls chanyeol in his R2D2 onesie from jongin’s weight and settles him on his lap. ‘chanyeolie likes baekhyun-seonsangnim, right?’

chanyeol agrees with a fervent nod. ‘he makes the best kimchi fried rice!’

‘yeah, he’s cute—’

sehun claps chanyeol’s hands animatedly. ‘i told you!’

‘if he makes my best friend happy,’ jongin says, sits up and takes sehun’s hand in his. ‘then i’m happy.’

dinner was far more enjoyable that evening.

weeks of struggle go by and finals were fast approaching. in the course of his study sessions, sehun slowly begins to understand further the once unfathomable concepts of philosophical existentialism and the dynamics of quantum mechanics with baekhyun’s patience and constant cheering. conversations hold much more meaning, topics that would easily shift from machiavelli's the prince to personal music preferences and favorite movies over well-cooked bulgogi.

it is in those moments that sehun spares baekhyun glances moments too long, eyes settling on fanned eyelashes, crinkled smiles, and pink lips that laughed like a thousand silver bells; that baekhyun leans in a little bit closer to sehun’s warmth, fingers curling around thin wrists to cheer him on and encourage him to do his best. it is in those moments that sehun’s heart skips a beat—a slow, steady rhythm that lulls hey, this could be all that i’ve waited for.

sometimes, in between classes, sehun comes by the preschool when he is graced with an absentee professor to bring chanyeol gummy bears and a kiss or two. other times he brings a cup of bubble tea for baekhyun with a yellow post-it note on the side (you must be an asymptote, one of his notes had read, i just find myself getting closer and closer to you. baekhyun had laughed loud enough to almost choke on a tapioca pearl). ‘i keep pestering him during work hours for philosophical rationalizations,’ sehun had explained to jongin over dinner once, to which jongin would shake his head to, smiling pitifully at his best friend’s painfully embarrassing attempts at courtship. ‘it’s my only way of repaying him somehow!’

tonight, sehun learns more of what has already been tackled in class, but which he understands better from baekhyun’s clear and concise explanations. exhaustion slowly seeps into his bones—from being a carrier of books from a floor level to another at the library, a barista working overtime concocting overly caffeinated drinks for impatient customers at the café, a student struggling to make it through college with passing marks, to being a doting father to a wonderful five-year-old son. but despite the weariness, there is an unexplainable feeling of joy and contentment that warms his heart.

his head drops to the table with a soft thud, cheek pressed firm on overly read lecture notes that he’s almost so sure he’d wake up with an ink-stained face. he looks at baekyun while he talks of careless miscalculations and the incompetence of the global fiscal policy, lips quirking ever so slightly as his eyes threaten to close to the thrum of his chest. ‘how long do you think it takes for someone to fall in love?’ he murmurs almost inaudibly, smile brightly faint and quiet despite catching his tutor off guard.

breath catches on baekhyun’s throat while he contemplates over the question in intrigue, and as he does so, sehun falls into deep slumber. he catches a glimpse of yet another post-it note from a few days back, are you made of copper and tellurium? it says, because you’re CuTe, and baekhyun had kept it between his note sheets of existential crisis and keynesian economics. baekhyun knows the answer, kept in the recesses of his mind like a secret waiting to be told. sehun is someone special—someone worth keeping. sighing blithely, he tucks a few strands of hair behind sehun’s ear, heartbeat erratic, and presses a lingering kiss on his temple and whispers in all honestly, ‘it only took me a second.’

‘he’s been working hard.’

baekhyun almost jumps from his chair in surprise, suffering a mini heart attack at the sound of the familiar voice. ‘yah, you scared me!’ his face grows warm by the second as it dawns on him that jongin might have seen and heard his indirect confession. ‘how long have you been standing there?’

‘i just got back from moving the rest of my things.'

baekhyun’s shoulders sag in relief as jongin retrieves a blanket from his former room and drapes it over sehun. ‘it must be hard being a single father,’ baekhyun says through the hush, feeling sort of out of place and opts to unclutter the table of papers and half-drunken mugs of coffee.

‘it is,’ jongin replies in whisper, makes a motion to help baekhyun tidy up as quietly as possible. ‘but that’s why i’m here, hyung, and so are you.’

something in baekhyun stirs—a knot untied, a swarm of butterflies, an immense feeling of understanding and admiration for two lads having to grow out of their childhood hastily because of circumstance. he looks at sehun, sleep calming the scowl on his brow, the creases of tiredness in the crinkle of his eyes. the realization leaves baekhyun locking gazes with jongin in a brief exchange of an unspoken agreement to look after and support that one person they both hold dear.

the bell chime on the door rings on cue at jongin’s arrival, parents and students taking their leave from the school. he is greeted by eager children scurrying past him, among them a chanyeol just as exhilarated. ‘jongin-appa!’

‘chanyeolie!’ jongin kneels as chanyeol runs excitedly into his welcoming arms, fitting himself in the warmth of his embrace. ‘hey there, big guy. how was—’

‘you must be jongin.’

jongin looks up to the direction of the voice, soft and pleasing to the ears, and is greeted by a lopsided grin and crescent moon eyes, the stranger haloed by midday sunlight. ‘sehun told me you’d be picking chanyeol up today.’ he was clad in a yellow apron, much similar to baekhyun’s, and jongin could only assume the said stranger was a preschool teacher, as well.

‘uhmm,’ jongin is mesmerized, dazed, only coming back to his senses for a moment to stand on his feet, hands on chanyeol’s shoulder. ‘i—yeah. sehun got caught up with schoolwork today, and i’m chanyeol’s legal guardian, after all, so. yeah.’

‘i know,’ the stranger offers an outstretched hand, smile sunny and disarming. jongin is reminded of sunflowers. ‘i’m luhan.’

jongin takes it, heat rising to his cheeks, pooling in the pit of his stomach. ‘j-jongin.’

‘jongin-appa, i’m hungry,’ it isn’t until chanyeol tugs at jongin’s sleeve does he realize he’s been holding on for quite a while. ‘oh!’ it startles them both, hands abruptly pulled back to their places. ‘does ice cream sound good to you?’ jongin asks, to which chanyeol gives a fervent nod to, and cautiously looks back at luhan. ‘so, uhmm, i’ll see you around…?’

‘definitely,’ luhan grins, wicked and sweet. ‘i’ll see you around, jongin.’

jongin smiles back easily this time. ‘see you.’

exhausted, sehun comes home that evening to the familiar smell of samgyeopsal and a chorus of laughter from the kitchen. he toes his shoes off, the warmth and comfort of his household welcoming him. ‘i’m home!’

‘ah, sehun-ah!’ jongin calls out from the kitchen. ‘you’re just in time!’

for a moment, sehun feared the fate of his kitchen in jongin’s hands, but to his surprise, everything seemed to be in its place and order. sehun breathes a sigh of relief, walking towards chanyeol who was sitting on the high stool with his crayons sprawled across the granite. ‘hey, yoda,’ he pulls his son in for a kiss on the cheek (‘do i get a kiss, too?’ jongin gets hit by a crayon square on the face. sehun cackles. ‘ow! such violence!’) before collapsing on the stool beside him. ‘baekhyun-seonsangnim taught us how to make paper cranes!’

‘yeah?’ he wraps an arm around his son’s shoulder, watching with mild interest as chanyeol struggles to fold the paper evenly into a crane. he succeeds with a toothy grin, and sehun claps amusedly, giving him a light pat on the head. ‘you should make one for jongin-appa for being good to us—speaking of being good, what are you doing here and why are you cooking?’

‘it’s a friday night, jongin, shouldn’t you be elsewhere?’ sehun walks over, palms jongin’s forehead in mockery. ‘are you sick?’

‘jongin-appa is in love,’ chanyeol blurts out, stretching his little arms as if to say this much. sehun punches jongin’s arm, ‘yah!’ and the latter could only laugh, but his rose-tinted cheeks don’t go unnoticed. ‘alright, jongin, who’s the victim?’

jongin opens his mouth to respond, but chanyeol beats him to it, ears somewhat quirking in amusement. ‘luhan-seonsangnim!’

‘luhan-hyung?’ sehun exclaims, following jongin as he finishes plating the dishes and setting them on the table. ‘wrinkly-smiled luhan? doe-eyed luhan? little deer luhan who teaches my son how to make pastries out of play-doh?’

‘yes,’ jongin pulls sehun on the chair beside him, wrapping thin slices of pork with rinsed lettuce for chanyeol. ‘luhan-hyung with the lovely smile and cute button nose.’

sehun covers his mouth in sheer contemplation. ‘oh, you’ve got it bad.’

‘yes.’ jongin is smiling, still, stuffing his face with his well-deserved samgyeopsal. ‘yes, i do.’

sehun recalls that on weekends, baekhyun had explained in one of his many visits, their student count doubled as they accommodated non-enrollees into their school and would almost always need volunteers to entertain the children.

‘you might want to volunteer, if you have the time,’ baekhyun had suggested, handing sehun a pink flyer. ‘you can even bring chanyeol.’

sehun had said he would think about it. but maybe, he thinks, sparing a glance at jongin feeding chanyeol another serving of samgyeopsal, some people were meant to be there. he makes sure to slip the pink flyer under jongin’s front door before they leave early the next day for the zoo.
 

kim jongin [7:46 PM]: YOU ARE MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE PERSON IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE, OH SEHUN-SSHI. ♥

oh sehun [7:49 PM]: IKR, what would you do without me? >‿‿◕ how’d it go?

kim jongin [7:54 PM]: not telling. (≧◡≦) but i can tell you that he taught me how to write my name in chinese. (@￣▽￣@)

oh sehun [7:55 PM]: assface, tell me over dinner! we’re having mac and cheese! chanyeolie misses you. o(╥﹏╥)o

kim jongin [7:56 PM]: but so do you. (ノ・ω・)ノ

kim jongin [7:57 PM]: be there in 5!

oh sehun [7:58 PM]: also, i need your help. bring scissors, chu~ (´ε｀ )♡

it was a sunny monday afternoon, and baekhyun is left slightly apprehensive of his coworkers, glancing at their mischievous smirks from teaching one of the students how to draw stick people properly (‘he always draws them with the head between the legs, and i’m still trying to figure out how that came to be,’ junmyeon says wistfully). baekhyun thinks he sees sehun and unconsciously tightens his grip on a teddy bear. yifan, luhan, and yixing steer him away from his stupor as they kneel before him with jongdae, zitao, kyungsoo, minseok, and chanyeol standing in a line. ‘w-what are you doing?’

one by one, they turn their backs on baekhyun, giggling in their hands whilst they canon the words will-go-out-you-with-me-?-<3 taped on their backpacks in cut-out letters. baekhyun laughs at the mishap. sehun palms his face in amused disappointment from behind the group by the door. he fishes out his test papers, flashes them to baekhyun with marks no less than ninety in red ink, smiling bashfully, and baekhyun was at a loss for words. sehun makes his way to his petite brunette and in his arms were tulips in pale yellows and light oranges—the color of life and vibrance sehun thinks baekhyun radiates. with the flowers comes a note card, are you a carbon sample? it asks, because i want to date you, and though overwhelmed and breathless over whether to laugh or cry or do both, baekhyun is flattered and flushed and so damn happy as he breathes, ‘i’d love to.’
 

with the promise of taking chanyeol to the preschool for one saturday (‘luhan would be there, so it’s cool.’), jongin ushers sehun to book tickets days prior to his date. ‘the coex aquarium, you can never go wrong with the coex aquarium.’

they are sprawled across the floor of jongin’s living room, coffee table pushed to the side to make room for a round of monopoly deal, chanyeol’s booming voice akin to the sound of speeding spacecrafts and battleship chaos as a steady background to an intense game of economic strategy. jongin is lying on his stomach, brows furrowed in utter concentration, while sehun sits indian-style on the carpet.

‘appa, the zoo!’ chanyeol prances around with his millenium falcon from his first birthday. ‘the zoo makes me happy, and maybe it will make baekhyun-seonsangnim happy, too!’

‘that’s a lovely suggestion, chanyeolie,’ sehun drops his cards, laughing as he dives for his son, earning him a shriek from the latter. ‘i’ll keep that in mind. thank you.’

jongin stretches, yawning, looking much like an electrocuted starfish as sehun collapses on top of him, a giggling chanyeol following suit to create a tiny dogpile. jongin groans in mock pain, scrambling to sit up and catches chanyeol by the ankle who attempted to flee, claiming victory with tickles.

‘i think i’ll go for something simple,’ sehun’s lips spread in a slow, cheshire-like grin because in that very moment, he has never been more sure. ‘and i know just what to do.’
 

baekhyun marks the date in his calendar on his work desk with a sticker of a giraffe a week before. no amount of words could best describe his excitement—very much like a schoolgirl, yixing would put it for him, and leaves no room for any argument. junmyeon gives him that saturday off holding on to jongin’s promise of being present, much to luhan’s great pleasure.

for sehun, baekhyun deserved the best, and only the best, walking chanyeol to school and back with a faint blush across his cheekbones as he hands baekhyun a tulip with a small note of encouragement or nonsensical words that utter genuine affection tied around its stem first thing in the morning, and for those five weekdays prior to their first date, sehun made baekhyun feel like he’s won the world, and so much more.
 

as far as first dates go, sehun is somewhat clueless, though very well accustomed with being asked then eventually having to reject his potential partners. his dating experience can very well be narrowed down to two: one that lasted for a week (‘because donghae had been a total douchebag in the making,’ jongin comments), and another that blessed him with chanyeol (‘the only good that ever came out of it!’). by sunrise, he’s a nervous wreck, barely catching any sleep as he fusses over what outfit to wear, what words to say, calling a disheveled jongin over to his apartment at an ungodly hour of seven on a saturday. ‘jesus, sehun, it’s toot-ing 7 am—’

‘jongin,’ he panics in whispers so as not to wake his son, throwing pieces of clothing across his room, formerly his best friend’s, in sheer frustration and horridness. ‘jongin, i have nothing to wear.’

with his eyes barely open, jongin fishes out a navy blue plaid button-down and a pair of black skinny jeans from the pile and throwing them on the bed. ‘you’re welcome,’ he pats a gaping sehun on the shoulder before wobbling to the living room, finding comfort on the sofa.
 

his doorbell rings at exactly 9:30 am, and in hurried steps and a breath held back, baekhyun opens the door. sehun smiles through a bouquet of golden tulips, eyes crescent and ever-glowing in the morning sun. ‘g’morning, hyung.’

baekhyun chuckles a ‘good morning’ of his own as he takes them, nods for him to come in and make himself comfortable while he fills an empty vase with water. ‘would you like anything to drink?’

‘no, thank you,’ sehun stands rather awkwardly in the middle of baekhyun’s apartment, all lanky limbs and too much height for a one-man dwelling, but warm and welcoming, nonetheless. ‘this is a nice place you have.’

‘it isn’t much,’ baekhyun emerges from the kitchen, cheeks somewhat pink from flattery and a little something close to seeing sehun in it. ‘but it’s home.’

and with one last smile before they venture to the great outdoors, they brave the day hand-in-hand.
 

they take the subway to myeongdong, the hubbub of the masses not once distracting them as they attempt to eat through every food cart they come across, tornado potatoes still in hand when baekhyun points to a few other stands offering hotteok, odeng, and tteok kochi. they eat like they haven’t in years, ‘slow down, hyung!’ sehun cackles through his mungbean pancake, and by lunchtime, they could hardly breathe.

they window-shop along the district stores, its busy streets abuzz with locals and foreigners eager to satisfy their want for adventure, buying as many small souvenirs of seoul for jongin and chanyeol as their hands can hold. it is a little past noon when sehun takes baekhyun to what he would proudly claim as the highlight of their first date. pulling baekhyun by the hand, he leads him to an art studio unlike any other. sip and gogh, the sign reads, and they are welcomed by a whiff of oil paint and acrylic, cocktails and coffee. it was rather small, but baekhyun gasps in awe at the rows of easels and watercolors in every hue. ‘this is wonderful.’

they are led to their own easels, a couple of glasses of champagne and an array of finger food placed atop a small table, ready for the taking. ‘you shouldn’t spend so much like this, sehun-ah,’ baekhyun says guiltily. ‘we could go some place else—’

‘hyung,’ sehun cuts him off, eyes pleading and confident like baekhyun has never seen before. ‘i want this date to be unforgettable, especially for you. let me do this. besides, you said you’ve always wanted to be a painter,’ he beckons for baekhyun to seat across an easel, hands sliding a black apron over the smaller man and tying it around his waist. ‘this could very well be the start of something new.’

for once, words do not find their way out of baekhyun, as if the very idea of speaking would come out as a choked sob rather than a decent dialogue. so instead, he takes sehun’s hand in his, blinded by his smile, and gives it a gentle squeeze. ‘thank you,’ he manages, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s waist in pure joy and glee. thank you.
 

kim jongin [4:43 PM]: he’s so pretty djfhjdhs but he’d totally sock me in the if i told him that. (✖╭╮✖)

kim jongin [4:44 PM]: i think i’m in love. (｡♥‿♥｡)

kim jongin [4:44 PM]: how’s your date going? (❀◕ ‿ ◕❀)chanyeolie and i miss you!

oh sehun [4:48 PM]: IT’S GOING GREAT ADFJSHKAJHFG ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ i miss you guys, too! baekhyun-hyung says hi!

oh sehun [4:49 PM]: give chanyeol a hug and a kiss for me, will you? (●´ω｀●) i’ll be home soon!
 

they trudge to their last destination with an armful of paper bags, dilly-dallying with more stories and food carts as if time had been cruel enough to run much faster. they make it to the park just as the sun begins to dip low, a little short of breath from laughing. the cherry blossoms were in bloom, pink dotting life onto lush landscapes of green. they settle down on a bench, tired, but happy and content.

'sometimes,' sehun starts, wincing at the sunlit sky as sounds of cheer and merriment echo across the park. 'i feel a little insecure of what jongin could give. he makes so much while i make so little—he practically gives chanyeol what i can't.'

'hey,' baekhyun taps his drink against the side of sehun's face playfully, the cold trickling down in droplets on his cheek. 'jongin does these things for you and chanyeol because you're family. ohana. you're all he has.'

'they're all i have.'

'no, because you have me.’ in a whisper, fearless, baekhyun goes, ‘sehun, i-i want to have more ice cream dates with you. like. i mean, i wanna be with you every waking day! god, i want to be there when chanyeol steps into first grade, until he graduates from ing college,' he pauses, eliciting a soft sigh from the latter as tears threaten to spill. in sehun's eyes, baekhyun sees the world—every nook and cranny a treasure to keep, a gentle reminder of all that is oh sehun. 'i want to be there when your hair turns white, when you're all wrinkled and gross from fatigue, and good heavens, i’m thinking so far ahead, aren’t i, but i find myself not giving a damn,’ he chuckles, the confession coming in all sorts of surprises. ‘i don't want to be just anyone, sehun. i want to be your someone—your person. just like how you’ve become mine. oh, god, i’m gonna throw up.’

‘can i just—please don’t throw up, but can i,’ and just like that, the many months of words and thoughts sehun had kept within himself are splayed out in front of him for all the world to see. ‘i want to—can i kiss you?' sunlight filters through baekhyun's lashes as his eyes flutter close, orange pressing gloriously onto porcelain skin, and sehun thinks he's never seen anything so beautiful, so very real and sublime. on baekhyun's lips, sehun speaks of how much he means to him, of silly pick-up lines and endless laughter and boundless love, and keeps them there between parted lips, holding him closer and closer.

despite the cold, sehun feels peculiarly warm. perhaps because he is reminded of ice cream cones and the laughter of children in the heat of summer with baekhyun’s smile, or the fleeting moments between secret smiles and whispered confessions from a lover to another. or perhaps because when he looks at baekhyun—really looks at him, his brown eyes telling of endless possibilities and promises, sehun feels secure, like he’s worthy, like he’s done something wonderful.

later, when he comes home with a seemingly permanent smile on his face, jongin tackles him to the floor, laughing and poking at his sides for details, every last one of them, don’t leave anything out! and sehun tells him amidst the blissful hysteria of smothering chanyeol with kisses and i love you’s, that he has found something so beautiful, so very real.
 

it comes without warning, the proposal to stay, as baekhyun spends many a night away from his own place to sehun hovering above him with a kiss or two, trapping him in familiar warmth.

‘my bed is big enough for two,’ sehun grazes his fingers over velvet skin, breaths ghosting the crook of baekhyun’s neck. he marks trails, i am here, i am here, ‘til his mouth prods baekhyun’s open, kisses languid and slow. ‘move in with me,’ sehun whispers, and baekhyun responds with a hand running through sehun’s hair, a knowing smile in the bow of the latter’s lips.

soon, parts of baekhyun find their way into their home—the extra set of toiletries all over the vanity, piles of clothing in sehun’s closet, the doubled amount of food in the fridge and the pantry, the other little things strewn subtly about the place like the fresh vase of peony tulips atop the coffee table. baekhyun is warmth and familiarity; he is home and a little something foreign, but inviting and pleasant, settling himself naturally in their lives.

chanyeol easily warms up to baekhyun's origami paper hearts, half-cooked smiley pancakes, extra servings of gerber baby food ('he must've gotten that from me,' sehun confesses. 'i'm 22, and i still crave for it like a madman.'), and ooey-gooey chocolate nutella brownies (‘maybe that, too.’). even jongin welcomes him with open arms because the key to a man's heart is not through his stomach, but through his friends!

sehun couldn't possibly ask for a better life, not even if he has to argue with baekhyun over which ice cream flavor to buy because you can never go wrong with chocolate chip cookie dough, but would easily lose to baekhyun's no, because strawberry shortcake wins at life. in the end, they feast over both flavors 'til chanyeol plays like he was running on a pack of red bull; not even if baekhyun walks in on him dancing to bon jovi or justin bieber, completely making a fool out of himself in just his iron man boxers, because despite the awkward silence that momentarily ensues, they end up laughing and singing and dancing along to the songs on shuffle, chanyeol sandwiched somewhere in between.

and sehun realizes, as months pass by in a blur, that he wouldn’t have it any other way.
 

a few weeks before graduation, sehun connives with jongin into surprising baekhyun with an easel and a set of watercolors and paintbrushes of his own, with jongin installing a much smaller easel for chanyeol in his room. sehun blindfolds baekhyun into their living room, ‘do you trust me?’ and baekhyun had nodded, biting back a grin as he is gently pulled. ‘one, two, three—surprise!’

baekhyun’s eyes adjust from the momentary blur, a gasp behind his hands as he sees a painting set amidst the furnished space. baekhyun tackles him to the floor, smothers him with kisses, with endless thank you’s and you’re awesome’s, and on that same night, they make love to the sound of rain.

sehun graduates with an honorable mention and lands a stable job at a management consulting firm, floating about excitedly in his toga towards his loved ones. jongin has tears in his eyes, you finally made it! i’m not crying, okay, and chanyeol embraces him so tightly around his neck, congratulations, sehun-appa! but when baekhyun stands before him, crying into his toga,i love you, i’m so proud of you, sehun holds him close, i am grateful for you, and never lets him go.
 

jongin enters the classroom in clandestine, the bell chime softly ringing as he saunters in. he stands behind luhan, catching a line or two from a fairytale he reads aloud, and one by one, he is greeted by the students’ delightful smiles. ‘seonsangnim,’ jongdae giggles behind his small hands, pointing to jongin. alarmed, luhan looks behind him and almost collides with a bouquet of sunflowers.

‘hello,’ an all too familiar voice greets, and in a swift motion, luhan is on his feet, eyes settling on jongin’s dark brown ones. luhan takes a cautious step closer, torn between pulling him in for kiss and throwing his arms around him for an embrace because jongin is here. but instead, he collects the flowers in his arms, smile settling in the curves of his eyes, and jongin thinks luhan is beautiful, so damn beautiful, just like this.

‘jongin, i—’

out of nowhere, a soccer ball hits jongin square on the face, causing him to fall on his back and clutch on his nose at the growing pain. ‘jongin!’ luhan gasps at the sight, kneeling before the fallen man, ‘jongin, i’m so sorry! are you alright?’ jongin doesn’t miss the amusement in luhan’s voice, doesn’t miss the murmurs of you have to say sorry, zitao, and i think jongin-appa’s dead, seonsangnim! but true enough, as he peers through his fingers, luhan was biting back a grin. seonsangnim, he’s alive! he sits up brusquely, scrunching his face in mild pain as luhan reaches out to palm his cheek. ‘ah, let me get ice for you—’

luhan is stopped by a grab on his wrist. ‘can i get a kiss, instead, luhan-seonsangnim?’ jongin asks teasingly, nose red, but winning smile still in place. luhan flushes, hesitant at first, but leans in to peck him lightly on the nose, anyway. the schoolchildren hoot and guffaw, circling the pair in glee, and even little chanyeol’s ears seem to perk up at the scene before him as he throws himself in jongin’s arms as if to congratulate him, and he hears, ‘i did it, chanyeolie! the force had been with us!'
 

today, chanyeol turns six. sunnyside is decorated with balloons and streamers of may the force be with you plastered on the walls, chocolate darth vader cupcakes and sugar boba fett cookies filling the stomachs of children as the teachers mingled among the young crowd in matching jedi uniforms. chanyeol is dressed as yoda chasing a frightened kyungsoo with a light saber jongin had bought for him beforehand, while sehun and baekhyun stand out as stormtroopers in the midst of a galactic mayhem.

today, he goes home with a chanyeol-sized stuffed chewbacca, a wagon of gifts and trinkets from his friends, and the perpetual comfort of knowing that home is wherever his appas are—his hand in sehun’s and the other in baekhyun’s with jongin and luhan close behind.

today, before going to bed, he gives luhan and jongin each a kiss on the cheek, even if it almost takes the latter by surprise that his godson had crossed to his apartment just to do so. he gives one to baekhyun, wrapping his arms around his new dad, whispering, ‘take care of my sehun-appa, okay? please don’t hurt him,’ and saves his best kiss for sehun because you're my favorite-est person in the whole galaxy as the three of them settle under the blankets of their king-sized bed. i have the best appas in the world, chanyeol thinks, and he was happy, happy, happy.