Title; Heechul’s Meddling Will Be the End of Us All

Pairing; HanHae kid!Henry

Rating; PG-13?

Summary; Donghae’s a single parent with a perfect little son, Henry. He has a steady job and two hyungs that love him very much. Nothing’s going to disrupt that, right?

Warning; The worst I say is .

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“Umma~!” Four year old Henry called from his spot at the table. “I’m finished!”

Donghae put a halt to the paper work he was doing and made his way to the kitchen to see if his son had finished all his food. When he made it over to the table and peered at his son’s plate he smiled brightly and gently pinched his son’s chubby cheeks.

“Aigoo, my son ate all his vegetables.” He cooed at the boy.

Henry nodded and puffed out his chest. “I’m umma’s big boy!”

“And my big boy should get a reward, right?” Donghae asked, squatting down to his son’s level. “How about we go get ice cream tomorrow when umma picks you up from school?”

“Really?” the boy asked with shining eyes and a wide grin. “Two scoops?”

“Of course! Anything for my son.”

“Yay!” the boy squealed and moved to hug his mother around his neck.

Donghae laughed, finding his son’s love of ice cream completely and utterly adorable. He wrapped his arms around his son’s back and stood up. The boy cuddled into his umma.

“Bath time?” Donghae asked.

“Umma too?” the little boy asked in a small voice, knowing his mother said big boys are capable of taking baths by themselves.

Donghae hesitated, recalling his hyung saying he was spoiling the boy too much. His Heechul hyung claimed that his kid was going to become a brat if Donghae continued to give in to whatever the four year old wanted.

But Heechul hyung could shove it.

“Of course baby.” Donghae gave his son a squeeze and told him to go get undressed and grab his towels and he’d be right there. The little boy took off as soon as his feet touched the floor, thoroughly excited at having his mommy bathe with him for the first time in a long time.

Donghae put his son’s dirty dishes in the dishwasher along with the others and went to join his son in the tub.

Donghae sat behind his son in the tub filled with warm water and bubbles. He was washing Henry’s hair, styling it into a Mohawk while the boy made himself a mustache and beard combo out of the bubbles.

“Umma, where’s appa?” the boy asked innocently, continuing to put the bubbles on his face.

Donghae faltered a bit, caught off guard by the question. He couldn’t help but wondered where his son’s sudden interest in his father could have come from. Truth be told, Donghae hadn’t really planned on telling Henry about how his father didn’t even know of his existence. Not yet at least.

“Why do you wanna know, baby?” Donghae asked his son gently.

Henry shrugged. “Father – son sports day is coming.”

“Mochi, I could go with you.”

Henry shook his head. “Umma can’t. Appa has to go.” He turned slightly to look at his mother. “Can you call him?”

“I –“ Donghae struggled to find a way to answer the boy without lying. “I don’t know his number.”

“Can we ask Heechul hyung?”

“Heechul hyung doesn’t know his number either.” Donghae quickly shot down the suggestion.  “Honey, I think it’s time to go to bed.”

Donghae attempted to turn the boy around gently so he could finish washing his son and cut off all this talk about Henry’s father. Henry stubbornly refused to have the subject change. He wanted his appa to be at the sports day festival. He wanted it more than ice cream.

“I wanna talk to appa.” Henry insisted, resisting the hands attempting to turn him around.

“Henry, please.” Donghae begged, not wanting anything to do with Henry’s father.

Henry continued on. “I want appa.”

“Baby, I can’t-“

“I want appa!” The boy yelled and splashed his little fists into the water.

“Henry Lee, if you continue there will be no ice cream tomorrow. I won’t tolerate you shouting at me.” Donghae scolded the boy. Maybe Heechul was right about his kid turning into a brat with all the constant spoiling.

Henry pouted, upset at the thought of not having his appa at sports day and the threat on his ice cream. He turned away from his mother and proceeded to wash his face and hair. When he was finished he refused to look at Donghae.  He got out of the tub, grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his little body. Henry walked out of the bathroom without a glance back at his umma.

Donghae sighed and washed himself quickly before going to dry off and get a change of clothes.

“Mochi?” Donghae called from the other side of the four-year-old’s closed bedroom door. “Can umma come in?”

When he received no answer he sighed and opened the door. When he stepped in the room he saw a little bundle on top of Henry’s bed and went to sit next to it.

“Henry?” he asked the lump, rubbing (what he thinks is) the boy’s back.

A small hand shot out from under the covers and pushed Donghae’s hand away. “Go away.”

Donghae pouted, never having liked when his little hamster was upset with him. He pulled a corner of the cover from under his son and slid under, cuddling his son to his chest when the boy moved to protest.

“Mochi, umma’s sorry he made you upset.” Donghae said softly, running his fingers through Henry’s hair. “But you can’t shout at umma, it hurts my feelings, okay?”

“I’m sorry, mommy.” The boy said in a watery voice and began sobbing.

Donghae panicked, not wanting his baby to cry. “Mochi, it’s okay, don’t cry.” He attempted to console the boy, only for the sobs to get louder.

Donghae removed the covers from over them and sat up with the boy in his lap. He allowed the boy to sob for a few minutes and just took to rubbing his back and repeating calming words into the boy’s ear. He couldn’t help but think the worst, because his Henry wasn’t a crier. He rarely cried when he was an infant, and he certainly didn’t cry now that he considered himself a big boy. Had someone done something to his baby at that school? Donghae sagged with relief when Henry’s sobs settled down to hiccups and sniffles.

“Baby, what’s the matter?” he asked the four year old.

Henry hid his face in his umma’s shirt and mumbled something softly. Donghae had to lean in to hear and all he could make out was something about a boy named Minho.

“You gotta talk to me like a big boy, Henry.” Donghae softly urged the boy.

“Minho and his friends were being mean.” Henry said quietly, clutching Donghae’s shirt.

 Donghae said nothing, letting his son continue when he was ready. “They were saying mean things about umma.”

Glaring at the wall, Donghae figured he had something to do with this. He was the talk of the town when he first moved here six years ago. He was a young, seven-month pregnant, man. He fled Korea and left Super Junior behind in favor of being able to raise his son by himself away from all the prying and judging eyes. Henry’s father, if you could call the jerk that, up and left before Donghae even had a chance to announce that he was pregnant. The up and left during the night, placing a very heartfelt letter beside Donghae’s pillow.

Sorry.

-H

That was the whole note. One ing word. He was with the man for four years and all he gets is a sorry and a half empty closet. So Donghae told the company he was pregnant and had no intention of aborting the child and staying in Super Junior. The company gave him a check to keep quiet and happily let him out of his contract.

Donghae fed the members of Super Junior some bull story of being tired as his ex-boyfriend had claimed for one of his reasons for ditching the group. Some of the members were sympathetic, while others demanded to know why Donghae was being so ing selfish. Nonetheless, Donghae packed his things and left Seoul, left Korea, left Asia. He settled down in a small suburb in some off the chart city in Texas and laid low.  

Apparently judgmental ways weren’t only in Korea. The suburbs Donghae moved to were so small that everyone knew everyone on a first name basis. It was such a close knit community that if some teenager was caught hanging out with that one bad boy from the town over, the small community would stage an intervention and all would be solved. So imagine the field day the people of Wales had when Donghae waddled onto the scene. Of course no one was rude to his face, but the stares and whispers weren’t concealed in the slightest.

“What did they say, Henry?” Donghae asked his son, mentally readying himself for the harsh words.

Henry shook his head and clutched his umma tighter, his way of saying he didn’t want to repeat the words the children were calling Donghae.

“It’s okay, baby. You can tell me.” He urged the boy.

Henry looked up at his umma with glistening eyes and a snotty nose. Donghae wiped the cute little button nose with his shirt.

“They called umma a … .” Donghae flinched at the word. “I asked teacher what it was and she gave me a timeout.”

“Minho said his daddy said you were a coke hungry little Asian twinkle.” Henry struggled to remember the exact words but Donghae understood quite clearly. “Appa will make them stop being mean so he has to come.”

“Mochi,” Donghae turned his son to face him. “Do you think umma is what the mean boys at school said?”

Henry furiously shook his head. “No, umma is pretty and nice and smart and gives the best hugs and helps my tummy stop hurting and makes my owies go away and gives me ice cream and is the best mommy ever.”

Donghae wanted to cry at how cute his son is but settled for hugging the boy tightly. “Then that’s all that matters, we can take care of ourselves.”

Donghae sat with his son for a few minutes, just enjoying the feel of his little baby in his arms. Only when the boys grip on his shirt weakened and he heard the adorable little snores did he let go and put Henry in his bed.

Donghae returned to his study to finish up his paper work that was due at ten o’clock the next morning. Donghae was able to snag a job at a law firm, given he wasn’t a lawyer. But he had his own desk, with his own name plate, and an assistant. The pay was enough for him and his hamster, so Donghae would keep the job – for now.

He made a good size dent in the amount of paper work he needed to complete when his phone rang with whatever current Wonder Girls song the caller was obsessed with at the moment.

“Chullie-hyungie.” Donghae cooed into the phone, happy his hyung called.

“Aigoo, Hae-ah, do you miss hyung?” the man asked, his smug smile loud and clear over the phone.

“Yes~” Donghae sang, put the phone on speaker and continued with his paper work.

“Is that my little princess?” Donghae could hear Heechul’s boyfriend shout from the other side of the phone.

“Kangin-hyung!” Donghae called, excited that both his adoptive parents (and the only ones present at Henry’s birth) were on the phone.

“Yah, don’t shout in my ear.” Heechul could be heard hissing and Donghae chuckled.

“Tsk, It’s not my shouting you’ll be hearing in a second.” Kangin sneered.

“Hyung, what did you do?” Donghae asked fearing the worst – his hyung is just too much sometimes.

Heechul mumbled something about getting a new boyfriend then sighed. “Hae-ah, you know hyung loves you and Mochi, right?”

“…Yes?” It came out as a question.

“What was the one thing Mochi wished for, for his birthday?” Heechul asked, hoping his dongsaeng wouldn’t be too upset with him.

“Um,” Donghae had to think back a few months and was interrupted when the doorbell rang. “I don’t remember hyung, hold on, someone’s at the door.”

Donghae walk from his study on the second floor, down the steps, side stepping one of Henry’s toy trucks that he’ll have to remind the boy to pick up in the morning, and made his way to the front door. Henry asked him for a lot of things, like said toy truck that was abandoned at the foot of the stairs, violin lessons and an ice cream cake. Things he could easily get the boy. But there was something that the boy wished for once he blew out his candles, something that Donghae didn’t -

“His father.” Donghae answered having remembered suddenly. “The only thing Henry really wanted was to have his father here.”

“Well, “ Heechul started dryly as Donghae opened the door and came face to face with the man that left him all those years ago. “He got his wish.”

Donghae let the phone fall from his ear and dangle uselessly at his side as he started wide eyed at the father of his son. He wanted to shout at him, slap him, and curse him for leaving him. He wanted to let that know that he missed out on a big part of Henry’s life. He wanted to say something to hurt the man as much as he had been hurt, but the only thing that came from his mouth was a whispered disbelief of the man’s name.

“Hangeng.”