Seokjin is not having a good day. First this morning at his favorite coffee shop, someone bumped into him sending steaming hot coffee down the front of his work shirt. He is pretty sure the skin is burnt to a crisp, but he is too scared to check. Then he couldn’t remember the password to his computer at work, and was locked out after too many failed attempts. 

The IT guy told him to make his password simpler. Apparently supercalifragilisticexpialidocious is too complicated. The last straw came at lunch when after standing in line twenty minutes because his favorite spaghetti is being served, the person in front of him takes the last bowl. Yeah, Seokjin can’t wait for the day to end. He needs solace and peace; he needs time in his special place where hopefully he will see them.

The man and his son whose names he didn’t know.

One might call it stalking, but Seokjin calls it admiring; it sounded way less creepy that way. It started about a three months ago when he had decided to change his routine from a morning jog before work, to an evening run after work. That was the first time he saw them, the blonde man, and his son. The little boy had caught Seokjin’s eye first he was adorable with red hair and pale skin, and although the child was wide awake, running around and laughing. He looked as though he would fall asleep at any minute without warning, but he never did. The child was a ball of energy and seemed to have a pension for things, a talent Seokjin was extremely grateful to the boy for. If not for the young boy’s tongue at the base of the park’s seesaw Seokjin may never have noticed his father.

The man was tall and blonde, and a stray dimple graced his cheek when he spoke or smiled. There was something about the man that drew Seokjin in, something about the way he interacted with his son, smiling and laughing making the youngster feel like he was the most special person on the planet. Seokjin loved watching the little boy wrap his arms around his dad’s neck giggling from being tickled. He adored the man’s proud smile as the little boy takes a swing at a baseball with his bat hitting the ball on the first try. He loves watching the two play hide and seek. His evening runs had turned into his personal version of family movie night, only the family wasn't his.

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Namjoon loves taking Yoongi to the park. He loves excited smiles, and the random things his four-year-old says. He loves good night hugs and morning snuggles. He loves that right now his little boy thinks he is more amazing than any superhero, because he is, dad.

“Yoongi-ah, hurry up and put on your shoes so we can go to the park.”

He hears his sons excited laughter as he comes barreling to the foyer.

“Yay! The park. Are we gonna play catch? How come I can’t the seesaw, it tastes so good? Dad can I have a squirrel, they’re cute? Dad why is one plus one two, why can’t it be three, it would be more fun if it were.” The little boy happily chatters asking questions he doesn’t really want the answer to, as his dad ties the laces of his shoes.

“Yes, we are going to play catch. No, you cannot, I repeat, cannot the seesaw.” The youngster gives a small pout and shrugs his shoulders. His father continues.

“Squirrels are cute, and no, you cannot have one. They are also dangerous and can bite you and daddy doesn’t want anything to happen to his little boy. And yes I agree three is way more fun than two.” He gives his son a dimpled smile, and in return he gets a gummy smile back.

The man’s heart melts every time he sees that smile; it reminds him of what they have lost. Namjoon meant it when he told the toddler that three was better than two; he believes that every time he sees his son’s smile.

“You coming, dad?” A small voice drags him from his thoughts.

“Yup. Let’s go.” He grabs his son’s tiny hand, and they walk to the park.

“Dad?”

“Mmmm?”

“Do you think the man with the red hair like mine will be there today?”

“Man with red hair man?” Namjoon turns to look at his son, wondering if this was just his over-active imagination.

“Yes, the man with the red hair that sits on the bench. His hair is like ice cream.” The young boy furrows his brows and turns to Namjoon. “Dad, can we get ice cream, red colored ice cream?”

“We’ll see.” Namjoon smiles and ruffles the boy’s hair.

A man with red hair?

Namjoon makes a mental note to be on the lookout.

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Seokjin doesn’t know why he finds the interaction between the two so soothing. But something about the way the blonde man is with his child, usually leaves the older man filled with a sense of warmth, and the feeling that life is not so bad after all.

After the day he has had Seokjin needs his father-son fix, he watches the clock, willing the day to end. 

Finally, the clock obeys, and Seokjin grabs his messenger bag and runs out the door. It took him less than fifteen minutes to shower and change once he reached his apartment, and then he was out the door again. The walk to the park was exhilarating. Seokjin doesn’t know why his stomach is full of butterflies, and there is a feeling of anticipation in the air, it’s not like he plans on making any contact with the two. The man is more than likely happily married, and not at all interested in men.

But still the red-haired man with the thick pouty lips can’t shake the feeling that something is about to happen. He smiles despite himself.

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