Yixing sighs, running a hand through his hair. It's still thick and black, with only a few strands of grey threading through as he gets closer and closer to forty. Jongdae almost had a heart attack when he found his first grey, but Yixing – he expects it. You can't be a father to two impish little boys (and now, a demanding little girl) and not start losing your hair, quite literally. Jongseok likes to tug on it.

It's late afternoon, coming up to the time when he'll have to pick the boys up from school, and he's walked to the small supermarket near their house for a few essentials. Sunhwa is asleep in her pram, chubby hand near , and he thanks god for that – it's almost impossible to shop when she's awake and grabbing things, and the poor cashiers always look so confused when she starts shrieking.

He picks up one loaf of bread, comparing it to the one on the shelf in front of him, blowing out a slow breath as he makes his decision. It's harder than it should be – on the one hand, the first one is less expensive and slightly healthier. On the other hand, the one on the shelf tastes better.

Taste – as it usually does – wins, and, looking around guiltily, he sets the other loaf down on the wrong shelf, tucking his chosen loaf under his arm.

Slowly as he can – so as not to wake up the baby – he turns the pram, sauntering off to the chilled cabinets for the requisite bottle of milk. Jongseok goes through it like nothing else, and Jongdae gets grumpy if there's not enough milk for his cereal in the morning.

Come to think of it, so does Shang. Like father, like son, he muses.

There's an employee kneeling by the cabinet when he gets there, restocking the shelves, and he pauses awkwardly. Oh. Oh no. Now he's got to lean forward, and he might accidentally end up brushing against them when he gets his bottle, and –

“Um,” the boy says, looking just as embarrassed as he does, “can I help you?”

“Er,” Yixing coughs. “I was just going to get a six-pinter of semi-skimmed, but I can wait...”

“No, no problem!” The boy – who can't be more than twenty – grabs him a bottle enthusiastically, and Yixing suppresses a smile. He remembers being the same at his first job.

“Thanks,” he says, meaning it, and carefully swivels the pram around a corner. He regrets his choice as his fingers start to freeze, clutching onto the milk bottle's handle.

“Daddy's not very smart, is he?” He tells a still-sleeping Sunhwa who – for obvious reasons – does not respond. She just makes a fluttering huh noise, her thumb in her sleep. Well, that's babies for you. They don't really give a about anything other than sleep and food. And defecating at inopportune moments.

This time, he makes his way to the freezers, for a frozen pizza he can stick in the oven and call dinner. He does try to feed his kids healthy food, but he only has so much energy, and playing stay-at-home dad while having a part-time job that is very physical does not leave much time for cooking. Especially when he's the only one who can cook.

It's not like Jongdae's terrible...he's just not very good, and when he tried to get Shang to help with dinner, the little sod just deliberately ed it up so he'd never ask him again. He knows that's what he did, because Kyungmi told him he did the exact same at hers, and as her kitchen is messy enough at the best of times (Joonmyun is not a particularly tidy man), she gave in.

Besides, the kids are always happier when it's junk food, which means daddies get an easier evening of it, and honestly, he's willing to sacrifice some of his kids health for less screaming.

Just please. Less screaming. He's dreading the weekend, because he promised Jongseok he and Jongdae would take him to Toys-R-Us so he could scope out birthday gifts, and his youngest son is incapable of making a decision about shiny things. This means that when he can't decide which piece of plastic he wants more, he's going to have a loud tantrum in the middle of the aisle, and they're going to have to smile at judgemental strangers apologetically as they shuffle him out of the shop.

Parenthood is hard. He stares wistfully at the alcohol section, wishing he could buy a bottle (or two) of wine. It's on offer, and he and Jongdae could share it after the kids have gone to bed...oh, it's so tempting.

But the last time he bought a bottle of wine, he managed to smash it all over the pram (hence why there's a large, red stain on the hood) and he's not sure, but he thinks Sunhwa might have got a taste. He does not want to encourage alcoholism in his children, especially not this early so – for the moment – he's abstaining.

Still, maybe Jongdae could buy some on his way home from work. He brightens at the idea.

Cheered, he heads off towards the tills, joining the small queue. His fingers numb, he rests the milk on a shelf as he roots around in his pocket for his wallet. Sunhwa makes a small, whimpering sound, and he starts panicking. Please, no. But she carries on snoozing, and he relaxes. He really doesn't want her awake when he's paying. She gets all grumpy if his attention isn't on her.

Again, very like Jongdae. Like father, like daughter. He wonders if the kids have picked up any habits from him, and then promptly decides he doesn't want to know. It'll probably reflect badly on him.

“Next please!” The woman at the till calls, leaning forward. As he makes his way over, pausing as the previous customer picks up her shopping, she smiles at him. He sets down his shopping in the little partition.“Would you like a bag?”

“Yes, please,” he scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed, “I forgot all my bags-for-life.” As always.

“It's fine,” she says, scanning the first item – the milk – and putting it in a bag. “We all do.”

He swallows, not sure what to say. He's usually good at small talk, but today he's tired and it's just all too much effort. “Yeah,” he replies lamely, and – sensing he's not chatty – the cashier keeps quiet and bags the rest of the items.

She's on the last thing when he glances down and notices a promotion on chocolate. His ears prick up. Oooh. Cadbury's buttons for £1.

Sheepishly, he sets four bags down at the till, and the server smiles as she adds them to his bags. “I can never resist them either.”

He chuckles. “The kids will be happy.” And so will Jongdae. In fact, he might have to hide the other three from them.

“Anything else?” The girl asks.

“Nope,” he shakes his head, pulling his card from its slot in his wallet. He eyes the price.

“Do you have a Nectar card?”

Oh, yes, the Nectar card. It's a lottery of sorts as to whether or not he actually has it. He pats his jeans pockets, before checking his wallet again. “Er, no,” he says contritely, “I think my partner has it.” Jongdae did do a big shop on Saturday, it's probably in his wallet. Or on the floor somewhere.

Come to think of it, he thinks he saw Sunhwa chewing on it yesterday...

“No worries,” she tells him, clicking something on her screen, before telling him the price of his shopping and letting him key in his PIN code.

As she hands him his shopping bags, he sighs. Three bags full of crap.

He only came in for milk.

Sorry about this random chapter. I just had an image of Yixing with a pram shopping. Hope someone gets something out of it.

Technically, I have more time to write, but my job tires me out. If you can't tell from this chapter, I work in a supermarket. xD