“But mine will have things like, let’s see, wings!” Chanyeol exclaimed, bits of birthday cake spewing out of his stuffed mouth.

“Chan, don’t talk while you’re eating.” Yifan said absentmindedly, flipping through the pages of the newspaper as his spastic ten-year-old stopped talking but insisted on rocking his chair back and forth.

“Yeollie, you’re going to hurt yourself.” Yixing muttered as he wiped the green frosting off the sides of Chanyeol’s soft cheek.

“What do you think of cars with wings?”

“What?”

“Cars? Like trucks and trains and BMW’s. But with wings, you know.”

“That’s a stupid idea, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun said curtly.

“Baek, don’t be rude.” came another absentminded response from Yifan as he looked over the sports section of Seoul Express.

Yixing shot Yifan an exasperated look.

“Not as stupid as you!”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Yixing shushed. “No fighting! Especially on a special day like this.”

Baekhyun groaned. “Dad, the party finished an hour ago! Plus Soo’s off playing with his new science-y nerd set—“

“Chemistry set.” Chanyeol corrected his fraternal twin.

“I know that, Chanyeol. I know more than you do. Remember, I’m older.”

Chanyeol sputtered again, cake bits flying everywhere earning another sigh from Yixing as he grabbed a creamy yellow party napkin and dabbed his son’s face for the nth time that day; and it was still one in the afternoon.

“By three minutes!” Chanyeol said holding up three frosting-stained fingers for annoying emphasis. “Three! Not by a bajillion years ,you glutton!”

Yifan lowered his newspaper with a raised brow at the lanky child. Baekhyun blinked in confusion at his younger twin.

Chanyeol had learned that word from a TV show the other day; he had no idea what it meant aside from the fact that it was a funny-sounding insult. This wasn’t the first instance of Chanyeol’s habit of mixing and matching words.

Yixing cringed as he tried to push away the memory of a teacher telling him about Chanyeol’s substitution of the word rims (he was at that Hot Wheels phase) with . Yixing could still remember the light-headedness he felt, sure that all the blood in his body rushed to his cheeks in embarrassment.

Yixing shook his head.

“That doesn’t make any sense, doofus.” Baekhyun snapped.

“You don’t make any sense and you’re a bigger doofus!” Chanyeol responded, sticking his green tongue out.

“Enough!” Yifan boomed, setting down his paper. “Stop fighting; Baekhyun, say sorry to your brother.”

Baekhyun groaned. “But dad—“

“No buts,” Yifan’s brows furrowed sinisterly. “The only but mentioned after this will be a spanked one if you don’t apologize. Do it now, Baekhyun.”

Yixing looked at Yifan and rubbed his tired eyes; although the birthday party was a success, he still couldn’t shake the tiredness of waking up early to set things up.

Baekhyun grumbled. “Sorry Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol blinked with another mouthful of cake and Yixing wondered in awe how this kid could get so tall for his age while eating all the garbage he ate.

He swallowed. “S’okay Hyun.” He mumbled.

“Now go play with the party favors or something and stop being so loud.” Yifan said finally, flapping his paper out and going back to reading.

Chanyeol nodded his head towards the patio as he looked at Baekhyun. The latter smiled and they both scurried off, probably to jump into the inflatable pool.

“I’m beat.” Yixing mumbled, resting his head into his arms.

“I know, Xing.” Yifan said, reading his articles as he carded a hand through Yixing’s hair sympathetically.

“Daddy!” a voice shrieked, making Yixing bump his knee under the table in shock and Yifan to jolt in his chair, glasses angled weirdly on his face now.

Luhan with a mess of what looked like lipstick was running hysterically through the hallway right into Yifan’s lap. His face wet with tears and colored with reds and pinks.

Yifan gasped, hugging the sobbing child closer shushing his sobs. “C’mon sweetie, tell daddy what happened.”

Luhan whimpered in his hold. “S-Sehun—“

“Did Sehun do this to you?” Yifan asked furiously. Yixing really didn’t want his six-foot tall husband going after the nine-year-old neighbor kid.

“N-no!” Luhan blubbered, “Listen, listen!”

“I’m listening, baby.” Yifan cooed, rocking Luhan back and forth, kissing the top of his head. “I’m listening, go ahead.”

“F-found Auntie’s make-up k-kit in Daddy’s bedroom.” Luhan said, rubbing his small fists all over his tear-stained face, smudging the make-up. “W-wanted to look pretty for S-Sehunnie a-and s-said—“he coughed and Yifan pat his back affectionately, staring at him like he was a rare diamond on the edge of a cliff, so close to breaking. “Sehunnie, said weird; said I look weird.”

He broke into the most heart-wrenching sobs and Yifan’s face contorted in a way that nearly made Yixing burst into laughter with the seriousness of it. His eyes were blown wide and his mouth was open and it was all so dramatic.

“Is Sehun still here?” Yixing asked curiously, craning his head to look down the hallway; he’d thought all the kids went home.

“Went home.” Luhan sobbed louder, burying his face into Yifan’s chest.

Yifan shushed him and gave Yixing a glance. Yixing nodded and Yifan got up to carry Luhan to his room. The door shut and Yixing could still hear the child’s sobs.

Yixing rolled his eyes; Luhan was their princess of the arts. He was always a drama queen, very sensitive and Yifan never admitted to Luhan being his favorite.

Yixing suspected it was because Yifan wanted to employ the loving father image, but in a house with five boys Yifan was nothing but stern. Out of the five, Luhan was the youngest but he was also the most delicate which was what Yifan adored about him. Yixing wouldn’t kid if he said Yifan sort of had a complex.

Yixing heard the front door open and shut. He sipped some coffee from his mug, a Father’s Day gift from Jongin, scrawled across the porcelain surface in black writing was ‘World’s Okayest Dad’; it was an extremely Jongin thing to give.

Speaking of the devil, Jongin had emerged and took one look at the state of the house; streamers, balloons, confetti, discarded plastic cups and wrapping paper splayed everywhere.

“Did the party explode or something?” Jongin asked in the very drawl way he spoke in.

Yixing chuckled, looking at his son; dark clothes, leather boots, eyeliner and ripped jeans with a hint of dark circles from a night of probably little sleep at his ‘friend’s’ place.

“How was Joonmyun’s?

Jongin’s peach-colored cheeks flushed red. “None of your business.” He snapped in all the fourteen-year old rebelliousness he could muster even with the crack in his voice.

“Alright, Alice Cooper—“ Who? Jongin asked. “You look like you’ve just risen from the dead so go you can stop punishing yourself and end the awkward moment to sleep the entire day. Again.”

Jongin groaned in annoyance.

“Where’s Soo?”

Yixing raised a brow. “In his room playing with his presents. Did you get him anything?”

“No.” Jongin spat, his hand rushing to his back pocket.

“Well just make sure to wish him a happy birthday,” Yixing sighed. “He was pretty upset you weren’t at the party.”

Jongin’s face fell momentarily and Yixing tried to grin at this instance of vulnerable Jongin. Sure Luhan might’ve been Yifan’s little boy, but nothing could really compare the relationship Jongin had with his twelve-year-old brother.

Jongin was a moody teenager; Metallica posters, Marilyn Manson CD’s, a weird interest in Charles Manson among other variously odd quirks but he still loved his younger brother to an embarrassing degree, evident of the way he still called him Soo, even though Chanyeol was Chanyeol and Baekhyun was Demon Spawn.

“Go give him your present.” Yixing nudged his head towards Kyungsoo’s closed door and Jongin frowned.

He fished the little necklace out of his pocket, the silver chain glinting in the afternoon light. It was a modest thing, with a little silver charm at the end in the shape of a shiny little book.

“It’s a locket.” Jongin grumbled. “Since he likes reading and —“

“And stuff.”

“And stuff.” Jongin huffed. “Can I go now?”

Yixing shrugged and sipped his mug as Jongin stalked down the hallway, knocking on Kyungsoo’s door and opening it with a soft ‘Soo?’

A couple minutes later, Yifan emerged from Luhan’s room with red and pink stains on his shirt and frayed hair. “You look well.” Yixing said with a satisfied grin.

Yifan sunk into the chair next to Yixing and tiredly rested his head on his shoulder. “Jesus, kids are tiring.”

“Yeah, try waking up at five in the morning to hang up streamers on ceilings three feet higher than you. I could barely see the banisters; the sun wasn’t even up.”

“Why didn’t you—“

“You wouldn’t wake up no matter how hard I kicked you.”

Yifan rubbed his stomach inattentively mumbling something about that’s where those bruises came from.

“So how’s your Xiaolu?” Yixing teased.

“Damn neighbor kid.” Yifan grumbled. “See if he finds anyone cuter than our Luhan.”

“Kiddy Complex.” Yixing mumbled.

“I’m serious.” Yifan said, throwing an arm up. “Be honest, have you ever seen e prettier kid?”

“Yifan, we have four other children and for the sake of karma and the fact that it would be sort of utterly ed up for me to not think so, I find all of them beautiful.”

“Yeah, but c’mon, Xing, some of them are better off than others aren’t they?”

“Wu Yifan!”

He narrowly dodged the slap to his stomach and laughed heartily. “I’m kidding.”

The door to Kyungsoo’s room opened and out he emerged, with his glasses perched on his head, fiddling with the rubber gloves on his hands.

“Soo?” Yixing said curiously as he watched the kid rifle through the cupboards in the kitchen. The doe-eyed boy turned his head and looked at Yixing.

“Yeah dad?”

“Where’s Jongin?” he asked, eyeing Kyungsoo’s room door curiously.

“He left out the window after giving me my present.” Kyungsoo chirped, showing his parents the silver chain with the book-shaped locket.

“Why does he do that?” Yifan groaned quietly. “It’s not like we don’t let him leave the house.”

“Leave it.” Yixing said, patting his husband on the shoulder. “Let him have his bout of teenage mutiny.”

“Mutiny?” Kyungsoo asked curiously, holding a glass cup in his hand. “Jongin was on a pirate ship?”

“I don’t wanna!” a young voice shrieked as Yixing observed Baekhyun running across the backyard through the sliding glass door and Chanyeol chasing after him with a stick with what looked like a massive caterpillar on it.

“Why do we have so many kids?” Yifan appeared to be staring off into space as he said it.

“Because you wanted an even four but you considered the twins a complete set on their own so we got another three.”

“Dad...?” Kyungsoo said softly, with wide eyes trained on Yifan as he stood frozen in his place.

“Soo, you’re father’s a bit drunk; don’t listen to him. Come here.” Yifan motioned Kyungsoo over. He hesitantly made his way to Yifan and the latter took his small hands. “Happy Birthday, kid.”

“Thanks dad.” Kyungsoo smiled shyly.

Yixing  yawned and looked at the clock. “It’s nearly lunchtime.” He said.

He glanced around the mess of a house they stood in the middle and looked at Kyungsoo.

“Soo Baby?” he said, getting the smaller boy’s attention. “How’s going out for a special birthday lunch sound?”

Kyungsoo’s expression visibly brightened. “At Il Forno’s?” he asked expectantly.

“Sure, why not?”

He squealed in a very un-Kyungsoo way. “I’ll go put my stuff away!” he exclaimed, bolting toward his room.

Yixing nudged Yifan off his shoulder. “We should gather the kids then.”

“I’ll take Luhan.” Yifan said quickly, earning a sharp look from Yixing.

“Luhan isn’t currently running loose in our backyard.”

“Jongin then?” Yifan offered desperately.

“He has a cell phone.” Yixing sang.

Yifan sputtered. “Is Luhan sure that neighbor kid got home alright? I feel like it should be our responsibility to check—“

Yixing silenced him with a simple kiss. “Fan?”

“Yeah?” Yifan asked helplessly as he abstractedly caressed Yixing’s upper arms.

“Get the butterfly net and meet me in the yard.”

“Yes dear.”