“Jongdae, what on earth makes you think I’m going to sacrifice my own plans, just so you can get laid?” Kyungmi snorts, tossing her head. Her ponytail swings comically as she does so, and Jongdae has to refrain from batting at it like a cat. How does she get it so…smooth? His hair generally looks a ing mess.

“Because you love me.” It’s his stock answer, pulled out because it’s both true and great for guilt-tripping. “You know we never get to go out on our own,” he wheedles, clutching at her arm pathetically. “Couldn’t you and Joonmyun just…I don’t know, postpone your plans for a little bit?” He holds out two fingers, squeezing them together in an effort to make it seem like a tiny amount of time. Of course, with his kids, it’s going to feel like a whole year has passed by the time he and Yixing get home, but that’s not the point.

Kyungmi just stares at him. He can feel her patented withering look shrivelling his balls right at this moment, but he stands firm. It’s a Saturday! They can’t not go out, that’s what they do every bloody day! “Please?” He says quietly, wishing he could do puppy dog eyes as well as Shang does. Actually, thinking about it, bringing Shang along would have been a great idea – he’d have done his whole ‘Mummy doesn’t love me?’ routine, and then they’d have been set. Damn.

“Cry me a goddamn river if you want, Jongdae, it’s not going to sway me.” . Why does she always figure out his plans before he has a chance to execute them? “I have a lovely evening of salsa-dancing planned with my husband. I’m not giving up on that.”

Suddenly, Jongdae is accosted with visions of Kyungmi in her favourite red dress and Joonmyun’s worried face as he tries to keep going with the music. He blinks. “Salsa?” She nods smugly. “What’s the point in doing that? It’s basically just on the dancefloor. Why not stay home and have actual , ‘cause if you lock the door and go at it really quiet, the kids won’t have a clue.”

“Jongdae, salsa is not just on the dancefloor.” She rolls her eyes, sighing at his idiocy. This tends to happen a lot, but then he does get to sigh right back at her a lot of the time, so he supposes it’s an equal relationship. “That’s just what you do whenever you and Yixing dance.”

He shrugs, grinning wolfishly. “Hey, I don’t have natural rhythm like some people. I’ve got to make up for it somehow.”

“Ew.” Kyungmi’s face screws up. “I don’t need to know anything more about your life. I already know far, far too much.”

Well, that’s obvious, Jongdae thinks, deciding not to point out that the reason they have a son together is because of said life. It’s still way too weird to think about, even a decade later. “Please?” He tries again, desperately wracking his brain for some form of bribery. “You can go to the salsa club any day of the week!”

“We have dinner reservations,” she says cheerfully, patting him on the head in a disgustingly patronising manner. “And we made them weeks ago. I can’t possibly not go.”

“You don’t even like eating out!” It’s true – she always gets confused by the several hundred different types of forks and ends up using the wrong one, which amuses Joonmyun no end. Of course, being the little rich boy he is, he knows the use of every single one of them.

It’s really quite disconcerting to think about just how posh Joonmyun is. He doesn't like it. Why can't he use a soup spoon for dessert like the rest of them?

She waves it off. “It’s only at that Italian place I like. I didn’t let him choose the restaurant, I’m not that stupid.”

“So let me get this straight,” he crosses his arms, pasting on the unimpressed look he uses when Jongseok’s destroyed yet another part of the house. “You’re basically only doing the things you want to do, and Joonmyun gets no say in this whatsoever? That’s hardly fair.”

Kyungmi shrugs, winking in a manner Jongdae can only describe as saucy. “He likes it that way.”

He can't help shuddering at the implications of that wink.