Taemin was somewhat worried that Minho wouldn’t fully accept him and that Minho would still act like the three years had happened. The more Taemin thought about it, the more he realised how hard this must be for the elder. Taemin had those three years to think about what he would do and convince himself that Minho still cared, while Minho had used those three years to think the opposite.

            Minho didn’t smile at Taemin the way he had before, though he still did smile. He performed fatherly duties with ease once taught, though it was hard to suddenly be a father to a three year old. But Taemin stayed awake at night, listening to his son’s even breathing, haunted by the thought that Minho didn’t love him anymore.

            Minho was in the room next over, also awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling that he couldn’t see and worrying over his relationship with Taemin. He couldn’t just pretend that those years hadn’t happened and as much as he liked Inho, the small child was a reminder of what he could have had if Inho hadn’t come along. Minho knew there were also certain things that he wouldn’t have if Taemin had returned right away. They wouldn’t have a child at this point, whether the child was adopted or not. Taemin was just too young, Minho thought and Minho wouldn’t have allowed them to become responsible until Taemin had finished school

            The next morning came too quickly and both men emerged from their rooms with messy hair, baggy eyes and wrinkled pyjamas.

            “Looks like you didn’t sleep well,” Minho said, observing Taemin as the younger sleepily rubbed his eyes.

            “You’re one to talk.” Taemin replied, collapsing onto the loveseat in front of the television.

            “Did Inho keep you up?” Minho asked, handing Taemin a cup of coffee.

            “Yeah,” Taemin lied, sitting up. He sipped the coffee and scowled in disgust. “I haven’t had it this bitter in years, hyung.”

            Minho chuckled. “Were you spoiled back there? Four cubes of sugar for Taemin?”

            Taemin scowled again. “Three cubes! How many are in here?” He swirled the coffee around in the mug.

            “One. Just drink it; you’ll get used to it. That’s how we used to drink it.”

            Taemin frowned and sipped it again, pretending to gag. “That was so long ago, hyung. Can’t I have two more?”

            “You didn’t buy any sugar yesterday,” Minho grimaced.

            “You didn’t tell me to,” Taemin protested.

            “I didn’t tell you to buy flavoured milk either, but you did. I told you to get what you needed, and if you wanted three sugars, you should have bought more sugars.”

            Taemin raised an eyebrow. “Okay? I’ll pay you back for the milk if it’s such a problem.”

            “It’s the principle of the thing, Taemin.” Minho put his mug down. “If we’re going to exist together, we need to think of each other as one person. Instead of ‘what do I want?’, it needs to be ‘what do we need?’ I’m not used to supporting three people, okay? The money isn’t going to go far if we buy things that we don’t need.”

            Taemin sighed. “Since when did you talk so much?”

            “Since my best friend left me,” he retorted.

            “I already explained it to you, hyung.” Taemin stood and walked towards his hyung.

            “Just because you explained it, it doesn’t make me feel any better. Jeez, Taemin, couldn’t you have been more careful? If you had made rational decisions, you could have come home.”

            Taemin clenched his fist. “I know it doesn’t justify what I did. You know I would have come home that day.”

            “If it wasn’t for Inho, we wou--” Minho was cut off by a harsh, hard slap. He looked up at Taemin in awe, ignoring his burning cheek. Had Taemin, his innocent Taemin, really slapped him?

            “Don’t you dare say anything about Inho! None of this is his fault! He’s just a baby, hyung. Blame me all you want! Don’t blame him!” Taemin shouted, anger evident in his normally calm features.

            Minho stepped back, his hand on his stinging face. “Sorry.” He mumbled in shock.

            “I know nothing will ever give us those years back, but we’re together now! Can’t you make that count?”

            Minho ignored him, staring harshly at the carpet beneath their feet. He wiggled his toes.

            “Hyung.” Taemin said in that peculiar tone of voice that only parents mysteriously acquired. It made Minho want to go stand in a corner and think about what he did wrong. “Hyung, you need to answer me. Yes or no? If you say no, I’ll take Inho and we’ll leave.” He threatened, voice still steadily low and calm, like a mother inconspicuously telling her child that he could either calm down from an embarrassing temper tantrum or that they would leave the park that instant. Minho cringed at the tone, having not heard it for years, and the way Taemin was speaking to him angered him. He was a 23 year old man, not decades younger. But he felt forced to comply. “Hyung, yes or no?”

            “I’m not your child, Taemin. Don’t talk to me like that.” Minho kept staring at the floor, inspecting his toes with great interest, fighting the urge to apologise.

            “You’re acting like one, hyung! If you want us to leave, please just say it and we’ll go right now. I’ll wake him up and I’ll take him back to our old city and you’ll never have to be bothered with us again! Just answer me, hyung. Please.” Taemin pleaded, grabbing Minho’s fist. “I came so far for you. I know it took me a long time and I know I broke your heart, but I’m here and I’m back to repair it for you. I’m sorry! I really am so sorry... I know I should have called,” Tears began stinging Taemin’s eyes. “I know I should have contacted you or told my parents to, but God damn hyung, just forgive me already!” His eyes filled with tears and he blinked rapidly and breathed deeply to keep them from falling. His throat burned as he continued. “I love you, hyung. Please, hyung. I love you! I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone before, I’ll love you forever. I’ll do anything for you, hyung! Please forgive me. I don’t know what I would do if I had to leave you again...” His voice cracked as he began crying, pulling Minho towards him and burying his face in the elder’s chest. “Please, hyung. Please.” He pleaded, wetting Minho’s beige shirt.

            Minho bit his lip softly, frowning, his hands hovering over Taemin’s back in a would-be half-hug. Part of him wanted to say ‘Yes, I can work this out with you and I love you, too’ and amorously hug Taemin, hold him close and never, ever let go again. The stubborn, caustic, apathetic, hurt part of Minho wanted so badly to scream ‘Go away! You left me once and I will die if you leave me again!’ But could Minho really let go of his one love? There was the boy he’d loved since he first set eyes on, the boy he swore to stay beside through thick and thin, standing right in front of him, begging, pleading, yearning for Minho’s love. How could Minho even think about saying no?

            “Yes,” he mumbled, eyes still downcast, hands still hovering over Taemin’s quivering frame. He cleared his throat when the younger looked up at him curiously, eyes red with tears, sniffling occasionally. “Y-yeah, I can. It’ll be hard, Tae. And some days, I might want to give up. Don’t let me. You, you don’t give up on me either. Sometimes I might yell at you. And I’m not forgiving you for it yet.” Minho sniffled, too. “But I’m saying you can stay and that you ought to stay and never leave again. You live here now. You and Inh-- I’m sorry about what I said about Inho. He’s our son now, okay?”

            Taemin nodded, wiping tears from his crimson cheeks. “I love you, hyung.”

            “I love you too, Taemin. God, I love you,” he pulled Taemin close to him again and squeezed him tightly. “I’m never letting you go again.”

            “Don’t let me go again, please.” Taemin nestled into the embrace, his head resting against Minho, perfectly content and serene.

            Minho pulled away from the hug, which must have lasted for only 20 seconds but felt like an eternal bliss and held Taemin’s face in his hands. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet, Tae.”

            Taemin blushed furiously, casting his eyes downward. “You know...”

            “It’s okay.” Minho said, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks as well. He moved closer to Taemin, heavy-lidded, slowly moving closer. His breathing slowed as he closed his eyes, feeling Taemin’s body heat. He was so close, millimetres away from losing his first kiss, when he was abruptly interrupted by a small child, wailing, wondering where his daddy was.

            “Appa!” Inho cried from the room. He was scared to be in a new place and to wake up without his father nearby. “Appa!”

            Taemin pulled away from Minho and rolled his eyes. “This kid...” He mumbled. “Coming, Inho!” He jogged away, leaving Minho to stand there, cheeks flushed.

            Taemin returned a few seconds later with his son on his hip and beamed happily at his hyung. “Do you remember who this is?” He asked, directing the toddler’s attention towards the man.

            Inho squinted and writhed. “Inho!”

            “No, you’re Inho. Who is that?”

            “I’m Inho!” He declared, feeling accomplished.

            Minho smiled awkwardly, unsure what to do. He thought Inho was absolutely adorable yet slightly frustrating.

            “That’s right, you are Inho. Who is this old man?” Taemin teased, smirking at Minho.

            “Don’t know~” Inho sang, writhing again, kicking his feet, obviously wanting to escape his father’s interrogation and grasp. “Appa, don’t know!” He said again, face wrinkling in his I’m-going-to-cry-soon expression.

            Taemin sighed and put him down, still holding his son’s hand so the boy couldn’t run away.

            Minho stood, looking down at the boy, reminded so much of Taemin at that age. He squatted until he was near Inho’s level and smiled. “Hi Inho,” he said, bowing slightly.

            Inho squinted back, rocking back and forth, eyes locked on Minho.

            “I’m Minho appa. I’m just like your appa, except my name is Minho,” he explained. “I’m going to help raise you and I’m going to love you and patch up your cuts and feed you and help with everything because I’m also your appa.”

            Inho said nothing and attempted to tug his hand away from Taemin’s hold. “I’m Inho.” he said after a while, still staring at Minho.

            “I’m Minho appa.” Minho said back.

            “Inho!” Inho shouted playfully.

            “Minho appa!” Minho yelled back, grinning.

            “Appa!” Inho squealed, pointing towards his father.

            “Minho appa!” He pointed towards himself.

            “Minho appa!” Inho giggled. “Appa and Minho appa!”

            “That’s right, Inho!” Minho said, full of pride. He hugged Inho softly, kissing his head. “That’s right, son.”