The sniffles continue to resound in the bedroom, followed by a small body crawling up across the mattress to plop underneath the curve of Taemin’s arm, seeking a makeshift hideout.

 

Taemin has half the heart to laugh, but he recoils from doing it as he embraces the little boy closer.

 

“Are you not done crying?” He asks through a poorly veiled amusement while carding his fingers through the small tufts of hair. “Your eyes will hurt if you go on for another minute, Kyo.”

 

Leaving no room for negotiation, the boy only shakes his head ardently as an answer. He keeps on diving further into that small space under Taemin’s armpit until he stumbles forward onto the pillow, up, still crying.

 

“D-dada is bad.”

 

The 5-year-old says through choked sobs, and Taemin feels oddly guilty even for having the intention to laugh earlier.

 

“Papa must… p-papa must be with Kyo, okay?" He adds shakily. Two fists press against his temples as he speaks. “Kyo will protect Papa.”

 

His words earn him a soft pat on the head which he inevitably preens under, but still stubbornly keeps his face hidden away so he could continue to cry. Kyo might be a little boy, but he’s a man by heart, and he will do anything to keep his Papa safe.

 

Even if it means, protecting him from his own Dada.

 

For him, Dada is bad for saying that. It doesn’t matter what warrants those words because he knows his parents love each other so much. Still, Dada jokes about it, laughs at it, and it makes Kyo angry. It could potentially make Papa sad, too.

 

So, Papa cannot be alone with Dada.

 

“Kyo, don’t you think you’re being too harsh on Dada?” Taemin’s question skips past his attention and he shakes his head again. “But you love Dada, don’t you?”

 

Silence.

 

Of course, Kyo loves Dada. These days, Dada is the one who wakes him up, whips something up for breakfast and carries him around. Even when Dada goes to work, he never forgets to buy Kyo’s favourite cheesecake and vanilla milkshake on his way back home. At night, Dada will hoist Kyo high on his shoulders and walk him out of the master bedroom so Papa could rest. He reads interesting bedtime stories, he accompanies Kyo until he falls asleep – he does everything.

 

So, of course. Naturally, Kyo loves Dada. There’s no denying it.

 

But, still, his mind refuses.

 

As if on comedic cue, someone knocks on the door. Kyo quickly lifts his head, cheeks pink and nose practically red before he scurries to fit himself under Taemin’s hold again. He stays careful not to accidentally kick his Papa along the way.

 

“Taemin, love? Kyo?”

 

Tears well up in the boy’s eyes when he sees his Dada step in.

 

“Here,” Taemin responds while reaching out for the other, smiling slowly when it is accepted. A warm hand engulfs his smaller one before Minho sits and gives him a kiss on the forehead. “What did you do to Kyo, baby?”

 

“Is he still crying?”

 

“He never stops.”

 

“Oh, my son.” Laughing fondly, Minho tries to peek at the boy whose face is still tucked away from his sight. He touches his head gently. “Kyo, hey.”

 

“N-no! Don’t want,” Kyo’s lips quiver as he pulls his knees to his chest. “Don’t want to talk to Dada.”

 

“No? But Dada doesn’t have any other friends,” Minho persuades. He caresses Taemin’s knuckles with one thumb while his other hand remains on Kyo’s head, patting methodically. “Doesn’t Kyo like playing with Dada?”

 

The boy sniffles. “Kyo does… b-but Dadaㅡ”

 

“Come here and let Dada explain, would you please?”

 

Begrudgingly, Kyo lowers his pudgy fists and peers at his Dada while Taemin spectates the entire scene with a knowing smile. It might not look like it, but even he knows Kyo is such a Dada’s boy. There’s no way he’d be able to deny his Dada. During his absence? Sure, he could lash out and cry and kick around. But with his Dada within reach? He’s as soft and fragile as sand, and his Dada is like the constant waves which extend to caress him every time. 

 

As a product of all those facts, very slowly, he softens, wiping the remnants of his tears before glancing up at Taemin. It almost looks like he’s asking for permission, so Taemin nods anyway and watches as Kyo reaches out for Minho, grabby hands stretching.

 

“That’s my boy.” Minho coos and embraces the boy warmly in his arms, pausing at times to press multiple kisses on top of his son’s head. “Still angry?”

 

“Eung…”

 

The small arms tighten around his neck, face buried in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. Minho glances at Taemin and chuckles in exasperation.

 

“Now tell me,” the younger of the two lovebirds demands with a wrinkle of his nose. “What did you say, Min?”

 

Kyo stiffens at the question. Alarmingly, he lifts his head, shakes it and leans to Minho’s ear to stop him. Maybe he intends to whisper his words, just so they could keep it a secret, but his voice is loud enough that even Taemin could hear it from a distance. He says:

 

“D-don’t say it to Papa. Papa will get sad. I-if… ungh.. if Dada says it, Papa will cry. Just ssh…”

 

Minho stares at Taemin amusedly as he tries to decipher Kyo’s smashed words. “Is that so?” He feigns secretiveness before turning his head to face his son who nods quickly. He then whispers back just as equally loud, “So… Dada must lie?”

 

“N-not that, too. Papa said lying is bad,” Kyo mumbles. The beet-red tone on his nose has reduced to that of a faint pink as he glances at Taemin, and the adult gets it immediately. Those round doe eyes, sparkling from crystal clear tears. He’s practically begging.

 

He doesn’t want his Dada to lie.

 

“Okay, okay. Never mind, you both don’t have to tell me,” Taemin huffs and stops himself from pouting not to gauge a different reaction from their kid. He’s way too adorable. “I’ll just assume things are peachy now that Kyo is no longer crying and back to snuggling his Dada, hm?”

 

And the boy beams like a sunrise, pleased with the dismissal. That means they don’t have to lie. “Mm! Things are pinky!”

 

“Peachy, Kyo.”

 

“Pinchy, Dada!”

 

Minho ends up snickering as he ruffles Kyo’s hair swiftly. “Okay, fine, pinchy. Now would you help Dada to get the milk from the dining table?”

 

“Oh?”

 

He jerks his chin to gesture at Taemin. “It’s for Papa.”

 

Just like that, his eyes light up again, and his head bobs in an enthusiastic nod. “Okay! Kyo will do it!” He gives Minho a kiss on the cheek before wiggling off onto his feet, fixing his hiked up shirt and waving back at Taemin. “Wait for Kyo, okay?! And Dada, don’t say anything! Dada promised! Don’t make Papa sad!”

 

Loud words tumble out of the boy’s mouth like a never ending train. His small, hurried footsteps echo as he exits the room, baiting more laughter from his parents until silence fills in again.

 

Taemin is the first to break it as he pokes Minho’s cheek gently. “He got that from you,” he says matter-of-factly.

 

“Rich coming from you, love,” Minho teases back before leaning in to kiss his lover squarely, smiling into it. “I think he’s got the crying habit from you, though? A pretty crier, too.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“I see that you agree.”

 

“Minho!”

 

He grins mischievously and folds one leg on the bed while their hands remain clasped on his lap. “That aside, you wanna know what happened?”

 

“I’m going to tell Kyo you broke the secret to me.”

 

“I mean…” Minho barks yet another guffaw before cupping Taemin’s cheek next. “Three more cheesecakes and he will let it slide. Anyway. I told him it’s national boyfriend’s day today, so he perked up and asked if I wanted to get you anything.”

 

Taemin couldn’t help but smile slowly. “He still thinks we’re boyfriends?”

 

“Apparently.” Minho humorously hums then kisses the beauty mole on the other’s shapely nose. “But I said no. I said, we’re not boyfriends - which is right. We're husbands. But his world collapsed at that. He just stared at me, wide eyes filled with tears, betrayed, then he stormed away. He left his chocolates to melt on the countertop too, and didn’t come back for one whole hour.”

 

The mental image gets Taemin stalling, but he breaks into another fits of laughter when the details resurface and he imagines it.

 

He imagines his first newborn Kyo pulling himself away from his favourite Dada, all teary-eyed and dejected with the “no-no-no” before sprinting down the hallway towards his bed with his fingers smeared in chocolate and all. Like a tiny kitten flying into the rage, except he sobs simultaneously.

 

“You shouldn’t have joked like that with him, baby, he doesn’t understand,” Taemin chides, though he can’t stop wheezing at every given opportunity. That will take a while to disappear from his brain. “He still doesn’t get it, does he?”

 

“Nope.” Minho’s smile is non-apologetic, though, and really, Taemin expects nothing more. It’s the truth, except Kyo is too young to get it. “But this shows how much he loves his Papa. It warms my heart all the same.”

 

“Oh, don’t start with that,” Taemin whines, warm all over. “He’s truly my little protector, that – ”

 

“Papa! Dada!”

 

Unlike his loud calling, Kyo walks clumsily slowly into the bedroom, one arm spreading as though he tries to balance himself while fetching the glass of milk. He’s being very careful with his task. “Uh… oh… milk is too full.”

 

“Shall Dada help?”

 

“No, no! Kyo got this. It’s pinchy.”

 

Minho hangs his head low to stifle his laugh, yet his shoulders shake evidently to make it known nonetheless. Soon enough, the boy reaches the bedside table, puts it down carefully and claps his hands ceremoniously afterwards.

 

One mission, completed!

 

“Did you get this for me, Kyo?” Taemin lifts the glass as the boy nods, beaming cherubically. “You’re the sweetest. I’ll drink it well.”

 

“Mm! And then Papa must rest. Dada says Papa must rest enough,” he says as he latches himself to Minho again like a velcro. “So Kyo will ask Dada to play outside.”

 

“Are you trying to separate me from Papa again, Kyo?”

 

“Nn, no! But Papa must rest!” Then he bounces off to pull Minho along. “Come on, come on! Kyo’s favourite cartoon is starting soon!”

 

“Okay – Kyo, alright – hold on.”

 

Managing to halt the boy with one arm, Minho uses another to give Taemin another long kiss on the lips. “You rest first, okay? Call me if there’s anything. I’ll be outside.” Then he dips his head to kiss Taemin’s distended belly and caresses the side with a loving smile. “And you too, princess. Enough of kickboxing, seriously. Let Papa rest, too, hm?”

 

A whine rings again, impatiently this time, along with a relentless tug on Minho’s hand, “Dada!”

 

“Okay, yes. We’ll be in the living room, love.”

 

“Yes, gentlemen. Do have fun, please.” Taemin chuckles and waves a hand at both of them, watching the mess unfold before they disappear out of the room.

 

Only then he gets to relax, leaning against the pile of pillows as he the swell of his stomach repeatedly.

 

He never stops smiling.

 

♡