It’s a normal Saturday morning – Yixing is off at work, teaching children richer than theirs how to dance, while praying he doesn’t come home to hear his own children have committed yet another terrifying infraction, and Jongdae is left to deal with the kids at home.

Jongdae does not mind this. In fact, he rather enjoys having his family to himself, if only to reiterate the fact that he is the best daddy in the world. Not that that has ever worked – his children cannot be bought. It’s a sad fact of life.

Ever since Shang came along, he’s made sure that he has Saturdays off – it’s non-negotiable, seeing as Saturdays are Yixing’s busiest day of the week, and they will always need the money he brings in. Jongdae might finally have a steady job, but it will never be enough to pay for three children, not by a long shot.

He is, however,  perfectly capable of taking care of his children by himself. So Saturdays are Jongdae’s, and that’s how it’s always been.

It’s funny how comforting his routines have become.

***

He’s frying bacon – because Saturdays mean brunch, and brunch means bacon – when Shang eventually appears, hair a mess and yawning like a small, skinny lion. “Morning, dad.” He yawns again, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. “Is bà at work already?”

Jongdae nods, flipping the bacon onto a plate neatly – he most definitely has moves, moves he’d really like to try out on Yixing tonight, children permitting – and turns around to hand it to his eldest son, who takes it eagerly. “Yep. He’ll be back usual time though!” He’s surprisingly cheerful today, although he has no idea why. He’s pretty sure he’s got a cold coming on, if his stuffed-up nose is anything to go by.

He sets the frying pan and spatula aside for washing later, turning the knob off on the cooker to make sure he doesn’t have any more accidents with flaming hot ovens. Yixing’s still not let go of the last time, and he’s getting really tired of being told to sit down while Yixing takes over cooking. It’s not fair. He can play chef too!

“Oh. Kay.” Shang is clearly too tired to bother asking anymore questions, instead trudging to sit next to his younger brother at the kitchen table. Jongseok is happily bouncing up and down in his booster seat, face covered in mush and a gigantic grin on his face. Jongdae only sighs; he’ll clean his youngest son up soon, but right now, he has to concentrate on feeding his daughter and then himself.

The newest addition to the family is a tiny baby girl, barely a month old; right now, she’s lying in her Moses basket, wide eyes curiously staring around the room, a small fist in . He smiles at her, smile becoming a grin when she focuses her gaze on him.

“Hey, pretty one,” he says softly, bending down over the crib. She fusses ever so slightly, making a small whimpering noise as he the little hand not covered in drool. “Are you hungry?” He asks, knowing she can’t possibly reply, but not caring; he’s always done talked like that to the kids.

He’s already mixed the bottle of formula; he left it to warm as he finished up the bacon, and so – after he rolls up his sleeve to check the temperature on the crease of his elbow – he brings the bottle back over. Setting it on the table, he pulls a chair out and sits down, leaning over the basket to pick Sunhwa up.

She’s still small enough to fit within the confines of his elbow; he keeps her close to his side, one arm over her belly as he holds the bottle in his other hand. She’s kicking her feet, little pink socks in danger of falling off – he knew he should have gotten the smaller ones – small mouth opening to whine unhappily.

Of course, as soon as the bottle is placed in , she gives up on complaining because a) it’s food – and no child of Jongdae’s could ever refuse food – and b) it’s something to put in . Sunhwa is a child of simple pleasures – those pleasures being on things, food and screaming at insane hours in the morning when her daddies would really, really like to be asleep.

Not that she cares, obviously. Jongdae shakes his head, amused by how easily pleased his daughter is. The boys are also immersed in their food – Shang wolfing his down like a particularly eager puppy, and Jongseok occasionally getting food in his mouth but mostly on the floor. He sighs. Guess he’s going to have to get the mop out today, as usual.

It’s moments like this that he realises he’s thirty-seven year old gay man with three kids and a partner he couldn’t imagine living without – just when did he become so domestic?

***

“Hey, Mimi,” he cradles the phone between his ear and shoulder, needing both hands to buckle Sunhwa into her carseat – she might be tiny but she loves to flail her little legs and after the incident when he nearly dropped her, it’s just safer. “Me and the kids are off out to that nature reserve, want to come with us? I know you and Joonmyun are having Shang for the rest of the weekend, but I thought it might be nice…” He trails off for a second, tongue poking out as he tries to slam the bloody fastening together – why won’t it just go in? Ah, finally.

He grins in satisfaction. “So, what do you think?”

She sighs; he can almost hear her pout through the phone line, if that’s possible. “The one with the really cute bunnies and everything?”

“Yep!” He snickers, carefully adjusting the little shoulder straps over Sunhwa; she waves her little hand around in response.

“Dammit,” she groans, sounding genuinely disappointed; this surprises him, because to be honest he thought she’d leap at the chance to escape parenting duties – it is rather terrifying taking the kids on an outing, after all. Especially seeing as Jongseok has a tendency to well – be Jongseok. “I can’t.” She says apologetically, “I promised a friend I’d meet up with her – “

“Oh, you have friends other than me and Xing, now do you?” He teases, not really upset but wanting to make her feel a little bad for abandoning them. He’s never denied that he’s slightly evil. And by slightly, he means totally.

“Don’t be mean.” She grumbles. “I know for a fact you guys have loads more friends than me!”

“Kyungmi, Sunhwa’s ‘Daddy and Tot’ class does not count. I don’t understand why you’re still jealous about that – I spend more time cleaning her spit up than I do talking at those things. And Yixing goes to more of them than I do!” He rolls his eyes, letting Sunhwa curl her hand around one of his fingers; he leans down to the kiss the tiny little knuckles.

“Shut up,” she says gruffly. “I’m hanging up now. You’re going to have to deal without my fabulous presence.”

“Oh, what a shame.” He says tartly. “However will we survive?” His sarcastic tone does not go unnoticed; he can see Shang rolling his eyes at him, looking a little put out that his mother will not be joining them. He’ll never admit it, but he is secretly a bit of a mummy’s boy. And a daddy’s boy. And a bàba’s boy. At least, Jongdae thinks he is.

“Ooh, “she hisses through her teeth. “You’re a nasty little boy, aren’t you?”

“I aim to please.” He snickers, picking up Sunhwa’s carrier with one hand and setting her in front of Shang. He takes the phone in one hand, shifting his shoulder so he can mouth ‘watch over her for a second, will you?’ at his son.

Shang just nods and rolls his eyes again, because clearly he’s eight going on forty-two.

“Love you babe.” She makes kissy noises through the phone. “Tell that gorgeous little boy of mine that mummy will be there to pick him up at six – we’re going to that fancy restaurant he’s taken a liking to before the show, alright? So don’t give him dinner.”

“Uh-huh,” he mutters absently, because , where are the car keys? “Will do. Bye!”

He hangs up, setting the phone down so that he can turn on his heels to look for the keys. He could have sworn he had them just a minute ago, right next to the baby’s carseat – no. Oh god. Of course. “Jongseok,” he says in a tone of forced calm, “did you steal daddy’s car keys again?”

“Why would I do that?” Jongseok gives him an unconvincingly innocent look, wide eyes looking more demonic than anything else. Oh god. What has he done with them?

Shang snorts, unimpressed by his brother’s acting skills – if you’re going to lie, at least do it properly – and so decides to rat him out. They’ll never get out of the house, otherwise, and, despite his protests, he actually kind of really likes the nature reserve. He has a soft spot for owls, even if his bàba refuses to let him have one as a pet, which is so unfair because dad was all for it and everyone has one in Harry Potter. But he digresses; there are other, more pressing matters at hand. “He did. I saw him.”

Jongdae takes a deep breath, closing his eyes in an attempt to stop the irritation about to course through him. “Thanks, Shang, but it’s not very nice to tell on your brother – “

“He put them down the sink when you weren’t looking.” Shang interrupts, glaring at his younger brother. Now he’s going to delay the going out. Why does he get stuck with the idiot sibling?

“He what?”

***

After a perilous half hour of trying to fish the car keys out of the sink – god knows how Jongseok got them down there, because he has no idea – including having to use a coat hanger  to hook the bloody things out, and they’re finally on the road. Sunhwa is strapped in next to Shang – because Jongdae doesn’t trust Jongseok with her since the first time he saw her, he shoved a bear in her face. He knows it wasn’t meant maliciously, and that Jongseok was only trying to play with his new sister but – well, you can’t be too careful.

They’re stuck in traffic, because it’s eleven o’clock in the morning – oh, the days when he actually got to sleep in – and London is never easy to manoeuvre. He’s starting to regret this entire idea of heading out – especially after Jongseok’s little trick with the keys, but at this point, it would take more time to turn back than it would to actually get to the bloody place.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he mutters, fingers tightening on the steering wheel when a car in the lane next to them tries to inch into the space in front of him. “No you bloody well will not.” He shoots forward, smirking with sadistic glee when the driver gives him the finger.

“Daddy – “ Jongseok calls from the back, voice unusually high.

“Not now, honey.” Jongdae says grimly. “We’re actually moving, daddy has to concentrate on – “

“I need a wee,” he whines, kicking his legs into the back of Jongdae’s seat. He grits his teeth.

“Then you’re going to have to hold on.” Jongdae’s sympathy levels are low, after the fiasco with the keys. “We’re nearly there, you can go to the toilet then.”

“Need to go now.” Jongseok twists in his seat, legs crossing and uncrossing in a desperate attempt to make the pee crawl back up. Shang gives him a nervous look, because if he ends up wetting himself then it’s going to go all over him and that’s disgusting. Sunhwa is too young to understand what’s going on, so she simply just wriggles in her carseat.

Jongdae glances at his children through the rearview mirror. Jongseok does look rather antsy, but he’s four now – surely he can control it for that little bit longer? “You say that every time, Jongseok.” He sighs, pressing his foot down so they can edge that bit further forward. “Just wait until we get to the park – “

There’s a small shriek, though whether or not it’s from Shang or Jongseok, he can’t tell. It’s definitely not from Sunhwa – she just looks as bewildered as a baby can. “Boys, what’s going on – “

“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, NO, DON’T YOU DARE – “ Shang throws himself as far away as he can get, crashing into the side of Sunhwa’s carseat; she gives a loud cry, startled by the movement, and begins to sob in earnest, Shang stretching as far as the seatbelt allows.

Jongseok, meanwhile, is snivelling. “I couldn’t hold it in, daddy, I’m sorry – “ When Jongdae looks in the rearview mirror again, there’s a damp patch underneath Jongseok, and his trousers are completely saturated. The sharp smell of urine makes his nose wrinkle, but, unfortunately – it’s far from an unfamiliar situation.

He turns around slowly, grip so tight on the steering wheel that his knuckles have gone white. “Right. Okay.” How is he going to explain to Yixing just why the car smells of piss?

***

Typically, there aren’t any service stations between them and the nature reserve; they’re forced to wait until they get into the carpark, Jongseok sniffling for the rest of the ride, Shang staring at the creeping stain on the upholstery in horror and Sunhwa screaming because she can feel the tension and it’s making her edgy. When they finally come to a stop, Jongdae’s head is throbbing, he’s yet to clean Jongseok up and they haven’t even set foot in the goddamn place yet.

“Right.” He takes a deep breath up through his nose, something he once heard was calming. It doesn’t do much to keep his temper even. “Shang, stay here in the car with your sister while I deal with Jongseok in the bathroom.”

“But dad, she’s screaming her head off and the seat’s all wet, can’t I come with you – “ He grimaces, unclicking his seatbelt so that he can sit with his halfway in the air.

“No.” Jongdae says simply, pulling a downcast Jongseok with him. He’s not sure he’s ever seen his youngest son so subdued. He grabs the baby bag, happy he actually had the foresight to bring spare clothes, but then, with Jongseok, it’s just common sense. “We’ll be back soon. Do not get out of the car.”

Of course, Shang doesn’t listen to a word of what he’s just said.

***

Jongseok cleaned up as best he could – new underwear and jeans pulled on, the dirty ones bagged up for washing later – Jongdae deems them ready to enter the sanctuary. “Come on you,” he hoists Jongseok onto his hip, the little boy snuggling into his neck.

“Sorry daddy.” He mumbles, and Jongdae sighs, bringing his other hand up to his son’s hair.

“It’s okay, baby. I should have realised.” He edges out of the changing room – Jongseok’s not really a baby, but it was bigger than the tiny cubicles in the men’s bathroom, and probably cleaner – bag slung over his shoulder. He pivots, ready to march back to the car and sort out the mess that is the back of the car – if that’s even possible – when he starts in surprise. “ –“

Shang is standing outside the bathroom, anxiously grasping Sunhwa’s polka-dot carseat with both hands because it’s almost half his size, a determined look on his face. “I thought I told you to stay in the car.” Jongdae starts warningly, gently bending down to deposit Jongseok next to his brother.

“But the car smells!” Shang shakes his head, grimacing at the very idea. “I wasn’t going to stay in there!”

Jongdae simply stares, because there’s no way he can answer that. The car does smell, and it’s not like he’d of wanted to stay in there either, but it was safer that way, and what if some creep tried to pick up either Shang or Sunhwa for their own nefarious purposes? He shivers a little at the thought. So he gives up – it’s not worth the fight anymore, even if this makes him a crappy parent and a pushover. “Fine.”

Shang and Jongseok just look up at him warily.

***

They’re finally ready to enter the reserve – Jongdae having attempted to make the car smell less and settled Sunhwa in her star-patterned pram – and already he’s wishing he was at home, feet in Yixing’s lap as they watch some inane comedy on TV. He hopes to god that’s what they’ll be doing this evening – Shang will be with his mother, anyway so maybe it’ll happen? Chance would be a fine thing.

Jongseok and Shang run off to look at the giftshop immediately; he’s left to deal with buying the tickets as they look at toy tractors and stuffed animals. He can only pray they behave. He’s pushing his card into the reader, when the cashier takes a second to lean over the counter and coo at Sunhwa, wide-eyed in this new environment.

“Oh, he’s not very old at all, is he?” She says, smiling. “What a beautiful little boy.”

Jongdae blinks, having finished keying in his pin code. “She’s a girl.” He says flatly, because isn’t it obvious? She’s dressed in a pink onesie, for crying out loud, in a red pram, and besides – his little girl is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, just as his sons are best looking boys out there.

No child of Jongdae’s could ever be ugly.

“Oh.” The server looks flustered, straightening up behind the counter. “Oh, um, she’s very pretty.”

“Yes, she is,” Jongdae agrees, tone icy; he pulls his card out and slots it back into his wallet. “Thank you,” he says pointedly, waiting for his tickets. She hands them over with a blush.

“Enjoy your vis – “ She’s cut off by a loud thwack from behind Jongdae. His eyes close, fingers at his temples as he prays that it’s not his kids making that noise. Turning around, however, proves to him that this is just a wistful dream.

Because Jongseok and Shang are both clutching foam swords; Shang takes a running leap at his younger, smaller brother, hissing ‘Glory to Sparta!’ in a voice that sends shivers running through Jongdae.

He should never have let Shang watch 300.

This is most definitely inspired by Outnumbered. I'll continue this if anyone wants me to, it was just getting way too long as it was.