Jongdae is asleep when he comes home; Yixing knows that it most definitely has something to do with their argument, because Jongdae always waits up for him. Even if he’s exhausted, he’ll still stay downstairs, with the TV blasting re-runs of crappy sci-fi shows neither of them ever watch. It’s just something they’ve always done, even before the kids.

But this time, Jongdae is snoring softly in their shared bed – with pyjamas on, and Jongdae never wears pyjamas unless the kids are having sleepovers – with Sunhwa tucked under one arm. If he wasn’t so hurt by Jongdae’s obvious dismissal, he’d be able to appreciate how cute they look, with Sunhwa’s thumb in as Jongdae holds her close. Instead, he feels the tiniest bit jealous of his own daughter, because that’s where he should be.

Throat tight, he shuts the door to their bedroom softly, not bothering to take Sunhwa to her own bed; she’ll only wake up and scream, and he doesn’t have the time for tantrums –he’s far too tired. The bathroom light is off when he steps in; he doesn’t bother to turn that on, either, because the heavy thrumming of electricity would just make his headache worse. There’s a rubber ducky in the sink – probably collateral damage from Jongseok’s bath, so he merely chucks it in the direction of the bathtub and sets about brushing his teeth.

He’s greeted by his eldest son when he comes out of the bathroom; he nearly yelps in shock because Shang is far too good at just appearing behind people. The boy smirks, enjoying having caught his father unawares, but his expression turns serious when he opens his mouth. “Is something going on, lǎo diē?” He asks, eyes narrowing suspiciously. Yixing knows he’s in trouble from the use of diē – Shang has always preferred bà, or more simply, dad. “Why wasn’t dad waiting up for you like he normally does?”

Yixing curses himself for having raised such perceptive children; he can only be thankful that Jongseok is fast asleep, judging by the heavy snores coming from his room – poor baby must still have his cold. “I don’t know what you mean, darling.” He brushes it off because he’s not willing to discuss his marital – can they even be called marital when they’re not married? – problems with his ten, nearly eleven year old son. “What are you even doing up, anyway? It’s midnight, you should be in bed right now!”

He’s not afraid to admit that he falls back on the I’m-your-father-you-should-just-listen-to-me ploy rather a lot when the kids get too clever. It’s the only way to deal with them, really. Shang shrugs in response, his insouciance something Yixing and Jongdae are fast becoming used to. Yixing supposes they really should do something about it, but he’s not really being rude – not yet, anyway.

“I was with Joonmyun, planning what to do for mum’s birthday. And she was on the late shift, so it was already really late when she came to say goodnight to me. You know how she likes to say goodnight to us.” He shrugs again, satisfied by his all-too logical reasoning. Yixing huffs, because now he doesn’t even have anything to be annoyed about.

“Besides, you’re at lying. There’s clearly something going on between you and dad. It’s easier when you just come out and say it. You guys aren’t going to split up or something, are you?” His tone is defensive – angry, even – but Yixing can still hear the worry underneath it all.

He immediately feels like the worst father ever, because his baby – and yes, he will always be his baby, even when he’s like a hundred feet taller than him (they all know it’s going to happen – sod’s law) – is scared and it’s all his own stupid fault for making Jongdae feel like crap. “No, no, honey that’s never going to hap – “

“You can’t say that, though. David’s parents split up just last week and they were like, the happiest people ever. You and dad can’t even say you love each other without pointing out how horrible you are to one another!” Shang’s quivering voice no longer sounds mature for his age; instead, he just sounds like the child he is underneath all the bored maturity. “Joonmyun and mum say I love you all the time, why can’t you and dad do that?”

He’s trembling at the end of his little speech, obviously having kept this in all day. Not for the first time, Yixing wishes that he wasn’t so observant – it would save so much hurt. “Come here, baby.” He says, arms beckoning. Shang shakes his head determinedly, arms folded. Yixing sighs. “I’ll just hug you anyway, so you might as well reciprocate.”

Shang doesn’t really hug back, but he doesn’t really back away, either, when Yixing pulls him close. “Stop using big words, dad. I’m only ten.” Yixing tucks him under his chin and laughs, because having children might never have been his plan but their kids have always found ways to amuse him.

“You knew what I meant.” He kisses the top of Shang’s head, pulling away to hold him at arm’s length. “There’s nothing to worry about.” He forces a smile, because he might be worried by the state of Jongdae’s temper, but he can’t let the kids see that.

It’s not fair. And he’s already a bad enough parent as it is; ruining the semi-stability they’ve had for the entirety of their lives for one stupid fight would be unforgiveable. “Your dad and I – “ He swallows, trying to think of the right way to phrase it. “We love each other in a different way to your mum and Joonmyun. They’re more…emotional as a couple, you know that – look at how often they fight! But we – we’re not like that. We like to tease one another in ways that, um, don’t always come across as affectionate.” He can feel his cheeks reddening, because honestly, this is the most awkward conversation he’s ever had with his son. Apart from the time he had to explain that he and daddy were screaming in pleasure, not pain…actually, they’ve had that conversation more than once. Which is a tad worrying.

“So do you love each other less than mum and Joonmyun do?” He hates how Shang’s fingers clench to keep his emotions in check – he never meant to distress the kids so, but he should have factored in how observant they are.

“No!” He shakes his head vigorously. “God, no! I love your dad like no one else, and we’re going to fix this. So please, don’t get upset about this. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Shang just gives him an unconvinced stare. “How are you going to do that when he’s asleep?” He points out, arms folded. “You’re just saying this crap to make me feel better.”

Yixing gives a long-suffering sigh. “I am not saying it just to make you feel better.” He shakes the boy a little bit to get his point across, cutting in when Shang opens his mouth to tell him that’s child abuse – they don’t need another call from Child Services. “We’re not going to split up, we just had a little argument and your dad was too tired to stay up. So go to bed and things will be better tomorrow. I promise.” His smile is a little more real, this time.

It’s enough to get Shang to roll his eyes and make his way to bed; Yixing has learnt from ten years of parenting that sometimes, white lies are necessary.

He just wishes it didn’t feel like this was too big of a lie to be classed as ‘white’.

***

 Yixing has always been the one to forget birthdays and anniversaries – if there’s an important date, then you can be sure he’s forgotten to commemorate it at least once. And it’s not as if Jongdae is amazing at remembering dates either – Yixing’s never going to let him forget the time he nearly missed Shang’s birthday party to go to Star Trek fansigning, of all things – but he tries to cherish them. Jongdae might be sarcastic and prickly and he’s not exactly sentimental – but he cares, and that’s always been obvious.

Yixing may be the one to cry when he’s really emotionally touched, but it’s Jongdae who shows how much he cares in everything he does. Even now, when they’re not talking and seconds from an all-out war, he still makes enough food for five when it’s his turn to cook, still leaves little sticky notes to remind Yixing of Jongseok’s parent’s evening, or Sunhwa’s toddler gym class, or that Shang needs his help to practice guitar for music class.

And it’s sappy, but during this week of freeze-outs and awkward silences, he’s come to appreciate these little interactions more than he should, never mind the judgemental stare of his son when he tucks the latest one in his pocket.

“You know, dad,” Shang starts, the strap of his schoolbag, tone becoming derisive. How did they manage to raise such a patronising little boy? “You could just…apologise, and stop all of this. Just saying.”

Yixing turns from where he was doing up Jongseok’s shoes, remembering to keep a hand on the little boy’s belly and uttering a firm ‘No’ when he tries to get up, because an unsupervised Jongseok is an-even-more-scary-than-usual Jongseok. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll be sure to keep it in mind.” He says, voice clipped and sarcastic, because does his son really think he hasn’t already thought of that?

Shang simply clicks his tongue in response, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Well, I figured if you weren’t going to do anything, I could always remind you how easy it is.”

He gives an exasperated sigh, because he doesn’t have time to deal with one impertinent son when the other is desperately trying to scrabble out of his hold and towards the biscuit tin. And he and Jongdae might not be talking, but they still agree about many things – one of them being no processed sugar for Jongseok in the morning. “Jongseok, sit still!” He tugs the six year old down, trapping him between his knees with one small foot on his thigh so that he can finally put his shoe on.

“Can I get in the car, dad?” Shang’s already through the door before his sentence is even finished, and Yixing takes a second to wonder where he found the car keys when he’d been searching all morning, before he rolls his eyes and hoists Jongseok up by the armpits.

“Alright then, you’re…kind of ready.” He tells his youngest son, setting him down on his own two feet to stand next to him. “I would ask you to go join your brother in the car, but we all know that’s just asking for trouble, don’t we?”

The mischievous grin he gets in return is enough to convince him he’s right, and sends a little shiver of fear through him. “Okay, daddy!” He spins around, intending to grab a hold of something to cause trouble with, but Yixing catches hold of his hand just in time.

He tucks his house keys into the pocket of his jeans and tugs Jongseok by the hand towards the table, where Sunhwa is happily slamming her plastic spoon up and down. It’s a difficult manoeuvre – picking up one child while still holding onto another – but after years of practice, he’s got it down to a fine art. Keeping a firm hold on Jongseok’s hand, he bends down to sweep the little girl into his other arm, balancing her on his hip as he walks towards the door.

She’s giggling as they step out into the sunshine, his bag dangling from his little finger as he lets Jongseok run for the car. He’s actually impressed about how smoothly his morning is going – for once, he can boast to Kyungmi that he’s got this parenting down – but then he hears the wail of ‘Daddy!’, and he knows that of course things couldn’t work out – of course.

Shang’s only gone and locked Jongseok out of the bloody car, again. Is it too much to ask for a moment’s peace?

***

His eldest son is quick to sprint off in the direction of the playground as soon as they arrive at the school – later than usual, because Yixing forgot to factor in London traffic, which is rather disquieting when you consider how long he’s lived in London – mindful of the lecture he’s going to get as soon as his father can pin him down.

Yixing can only be thankful he remembered his bag. He doesn’t want another call about how Shang’s been ‘misplacing’ his homework.

He’s so exhausted that he can barely get out of the car to unbuckle the other two from their car seats, but he manages it; he’s used to running on autopilot after years of very little sleep. He has Jongseok unstrapped with his Transformers backpack slung over small shoulders in seconds, telling him to stay in a voice that brooks no refusal as he gets his sister out. For once, the small boy is actually obedient, standing still with tiny hands clutching the straps of his backpack as he waits for his father to lead him to his class.

Yixing is quick to take his hand, bestowing a small smile on him for being so well-behaved. Sunhwa is once again resting on his hip as he jogs over to school gate, thankful to see the teacher waiting to usher the late ones in. He hands Jongseok over with a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Be good!” He calls the words out of habit; he has no actual expectations of Jongseok acting in a respectable manner whatsoever.

As if.

***

Yixing is left alone with his daughter for the morning, and so – not able to face the mess the house is in or the telling lack of texts from Jongdae – he decides to drag Kyungmi out for coffee with them. Predictably, she moans about it being her one day off this week and how much she’d really – really – like to sleep in and maybe spend the day sending dirty texts to Joonmyun.

He disregards her complaints; she’s done it to him many a time, so it really is only fair. And besides, it’s not like he’s making her climb mountains or something, no – just get on a too-hot train with him and a fractious three year old.

How is that cruel?

They’re waiting at Mornington Crescent, sweating profusely in the airless tunnel. Kyungmi is currently cooing at Sunhwa, cradled against Yixing’s chest as she plays with his necklace. He has to swat her away from it when she tries to put the cord in , having lost many a necklace to Sunhwa’s chewing habit. “No, baby, no.” He says soothingly, pulling the pendant away from and sighing internally as her face screws up. “No. Don’t cry, don’t cry – “

Oh god. No. He’s not dealing with a crying child on the Tube, not at this time of day when people are probably going to work, . He hands her off to Kyungmi, who cuddles her immediately so that he can rifle around in his bag for something – anything – to distract her from her imminent tantrum. He could have sworn he packed Blue Bear, why the hell isn’t he in here?

She’s whimpering already, bottom lip trembling as Kyungmi bounces her gently to keep her from turning to all out roaring – Sunhwa might be a quiet child, but she’s the loudest of them all when she gets really riled up. All he can find is a dummy in the front pocket of his bag, but it’ll have to do. At least it’s something she can put in (he really should be worried about her obsession with on things – that does not bode well for her teen years).

As she opens to really start screaming, he pops the damn thing in and prays to god it’ll keep her quiet. To his complete and utter surprise, it does, but maybe that’s more to do with the fact that she likes Kyungmi (in fact, she appears to like everyone better than her actual parents) than her being pacified by the dummy in .

The train pulls in just as he’s zipped his bag back up; they board quickly, Kyungmi shoving some random tourist out of the way when he tries to grab a seat by the doors. Yixing is usually more passive-aggressive; he’ll just stand there and send waves of hatred to whoever stole his seat, but of course, he’d never actually say anything. It’s not done. Jongdae instilled that particular practice in him long ago.

He wonders if Jongdae’s going to talk to him at all tonight, because otherwise, getting through Jongseok’s parent’s evening is going to be ridiculously uncomfortable. Still, knowing Jongseok, will they really want to talk about the havoc he’s undoubtedly caused?

No, probably not.