It's ten on a cold, winter morning. Daylight is starting to filter through the window panes, casting shadows onto the office floor; yet Taemin is paying no attention to it. Neither does he pay any attention to the employees outside his little corner office, filing in with greetings as they start their work day.

While everyone is just starting to clock in, Taemin has been sitting focused on the computer screen in front of him for three hours. Technically, he has absolutely no need to come in so early. He just has so much to do. He's busy; there's nothing else he can say to describe his situation. There's the Spring program to finalize, the Fall program to conceptualize, and topping that off, he still has to revise the choreography he made for one of the Spring shows— so he's going to have to hit the studios after finishing paperwork.

Since seven in the morning, he has been stressing about how the program in his hand still doesn't feel right, but he only has three months to go until the start of the Spring season. The words written on paper, the rough choreography in his head and in videos from other choreographers, the design sketches—nothing's matching up to his vision.

And it's not like the program can just not match up. His creative vision is what this dance company is paying him for; if he can't make it come to life, then he's not doing his job properly. He's already getting enough flack for being the youngest artistic director in the company's history—he can't give the board of directors even more excuses to tell him that he's 'too young to have the emotional maturity required to lead this premier dance company to the peak of artistry.'

"Yah, Lee Taemin."

Taemin's little stress-out session is interrupted when his slightly ajar door is pushed open, and a figure clad in elaborate clothes as white as the snow outside walks in loudly without invitation. He doesn't even need to look up to know that it's Kibum—one of his closest friends since college, who also happens to be the board's favorite marketing director.

"Good morning to you too, hyung. And no, I haven't posted on Instagram today—or last night. Too busy to upload rehearsal videos on my personal accounts."

Kibum rolls his eyes and closes the door behind him. "Okay… But that's not why I'm here for, you workaholic."

"Then what is it?" he stops staring at his computer screen, his eyes following his colleague's movements. Kibum sits on one of the chairs across from his desk, crossing his legs.

"I just… heard some things," Kibum says. Taemin tilts his head and waits, urging him to go on.

"It's about Jongin," the older man continues. His eyebrows quirk inwards in disbelief as he leans over, continuing in a hushed tone. "I heard he's having a baby. Is that true? " 

Taemin blinks. That's certainly quite surprising. Not the fact that Jongin is having a baby; that's not surprising. Jongin is his best friend since birth—and also the dancer he headlined this company with, his almost-permanent dance partner before their retirement two years ago—so he has known about it for a while now.

What surprised him is that Kibum knows about it, because he and Jongin are not very close. Now that Jongin doesn't work with them anymore, they probably don't see each other; so how the news spread out so far as to reach his ears, Taemin has no idea. It certainly didn't come out of Taemin's zipped lips.

"How did you know?"

"Definitely didn't get the news from you," Kibum snorts at his question, resting his elbows on the table. "What a nice guy, you are. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, it's not really my place to tell. It's his baby, not mine," he scoffs and shakes his head, returning his attention to his laptop screen. He starts typing random words to pretend to look busy, despite being unable to focus—Kibum's probing of Jongin's whole baby situation isn't helping his already slightly stressed out mind. "Besides, why are you assuming I already knew about it?"

It's a useless question, because everyone knows Taemin and Jongin are inseparable—they know everything about each other, and there's no reason he wouldn't know about this. Kibum doesn't even miss a beat before he barks out in laughter.

"Please. You're literally his husband, why wouldn't you know?"

The man opposite him shakes his head, amusement evident in his expression. Here it goes again. Kibum's 'jokes' about his very close friendship with Jongin.

"I'm not. We're—"

"Just best friends, I know," Kibum cuts him off with a flick of his finger. "But only because he's still too dumb to realize you've been in love with him since you guys were… I don't know, four years old? Come on."

Taemin sighs.

Sure, Kibum's right. Taemin was in love with Jongin, at a certain point in his life; emphasis on the past tense. It was a long time ago, before work consumed him to the bone. That was a time when his world only revolved around Jongin and dance, although this friend of his still brings it up as a joke even now.

After a decade of getting teased for his feelings, it's not like Taemin's not used to the jokes. Normally he would just laugh it off, but with everything going on in his head, he's not exactly in the correct mood for that.

"Can we not keep talking about this, hyung? Please," he pleads. Slowly, he raises his head to meet Kibum's gaze. "I got over him years ago. You know that."

Kibum looks him in the eye for a long second, before he rolls it away. The other man knows him all too well; he may not believe his words completely, even if it's true.

"Fine, I'll stop—but only because you asked so nicely," his friend sighs. "Since you don't want to talk about it, I'm going back to my office. You're not the only one with work to do."

Kibum gets up with a swift movement, walking back to the door after the quick conversation. Right before he steps out, though, he turns back.

"And don't forget to post on Instagram today!" he shouts, pointing at Taemin. "You haven't posted in two months—if you don't do it today, I swear I'll find someone to hack into your account."

Taemin rolls his eyes. "Fine. Prepare the caption for me."

"Good," Kibum huffs, then walks away with a wave.

The door closes behind his colleague's figure, and Taemin sighs again. Time to go back to stressing out.

-

Jongin's declaration came as sudden as lightning.

"I'm having a baby," the younger man announces, while cuddled under a blanket on Taemin's couch.

His best friend's mouth was full of chicken as he speaks, and nothing can be more out of the blue than dropping important news with a mouth full of chicken, in the middle of their weekly dinner. Nothing.

"What." Taemin chokes on his water. "How— when— with who— "

As per the tradition they've had since college, they're sitting in Taemin's living room, having chicken and pizza while an old movie plays on the TV, the volume turned down so it becomes background noise to their conversations about their week. They talk about lots of things during these dinners—from work to celebrity gossip—but the last thing Taemin expected to hear tonight was that Jongin's having a baby. In fact, he didn't expect it at all. 

Within the split second of silence, his mind goes haywire trying to figure out what happened. He doesn't know what shocks him more—the fact that Jongin is having a baby or that he had someone he could have a baby with. It's been years since the last time his best friend dated anyone, and he definitely would have known if Jongin was with someone. He keeps track, plus he knows everything about Jongin. Everything. 

Or at least he thought he did, because he didn't know Jongin was having a baby.

Jongin cuts off his train of thought with a bark of laughter, most likely reading off of his expression.

"I didn't knock anyone up, if that's what you're thinking. Relax."

A relieved sigh escapes Taemin's lips. It feels like all the air is coming back to his lungs, despite not knowing when he started holding his breath in the first place.

So, it's not like he missed too many things and didn't know that Jongin was seeing someone. He didn't have anyone.

"I'm adopting," his best friend goes on. "...As a single parent."

Taemin gapes. His mind starts whirring again.

"Is that even possible?" 

"Yeah, I looked it up, and turns out it's a thing," Jongin says, casually sitting up to take another piece of chicken from the box, as if this conversation is nothing. "I'm done with all the necessary procedures, but I'm still waiting for a match."

"Wait—" Now that's another surprise. "How long have you been planning this?"

Taemin may not know anything about adoption, but he knows that it doesn't only take a week—or two weeks, or even a month—to plan out . It's surely a long process, and if everything's already done, that means Jongin has been at it for a while. 

He watches as Jongin scratches his ear and avoids his gaze. His suspicions are probably right, since he's reacting like this.

"For a year? A little more, maybe."

Taemin's jaw loosens. Unbelievable. Jongin had hidden this for him for so long. He doesn't even have to say anything for Jongin to know what he's thinking. It's probably written all over his face.

"Sorry for keeping it from you," Jongin glances at him apologetically. "I didn't tell anyone except my parents and sisters… I just— I thought if I told you, you'd… I don't know, change my mind?"

Taemin doesn't know what to say to that. The reasoning isn't good enough to make his frown go away, but he gets it. They value each other's opinions more than anything; it would have been way too easy for Taemin to sway his best friend's decision if he knew.

It's still a little disappointing, though. He would have supported Jongin through thick or thin, on whatever he decided to do, with or without him; just like that time he fought hard to open his very own dance studio.

He thought Jongin knew that.

"Sorry, Taemin-ah," Jongin repeats solemnly. "I can't believe I managed to keep it hidden for so long either."

A moment of silence passes, before Taemin finally lets out a sigh.

"It's okay," he says. Then h