^{_{. .}} sixteen ^{_{. .}}

“How are you holding up?”

Hyukjae sits at the dinner table, holding a packet of ice over his eye and nose. It’s been a few hours since Donghae’s mother showed up at his apartment, and asked if they wanted to spend the night at their place; the woman had generously offered to look after Jaemin for the rest of the day, so Hyukjae could have a moment to rest.

Mrs. Lee had cooked them lunch, and the delicious scent still remains in the kitchen that’s at least three times bigger than his own. The woman leaning her jaw against her palm, observes Hyukjae across the table. Jaemin’s still napping, now brought to the guest room next to the kitchen, and even if Hyukjae knows there’s nothing to worry about, he feels a little unsettled when the girl’s not in his sight. His head is so full of garbage, all the thoughts and emotions bundled up and giving him a headache.

So how on earth is he supposed to describe how he feels?

“I don’t know,” he finally grumbles, voice a little unsteady. The painkillers Donghae has given him have eased all the pain all over his body, but the distress inside hasn’t lessened. The bile on his throat hasn’t gone away. The churning down on his stomach is still there, too. But he’s grateful for the help Donghae’s mother has offered them. He doesn’t think he has any energy left for anything else. For the first time in a while, he has the opportunity to take a breath.

He doesn’t hear the soft footsteps approaching, until Donghae opens his mouth at the doorstep.

“I found something to prop your wrist with,” the brunet notes, “Since mom forgot to bring everything I asked for.” Donghae gives her mother a look of disapproval, as she had frogotten to bring any of the medical supplies to Hyukjae’s place.

Hyukjae gazes up to the male, looking at the wooden splint with a grimace. “Is that really necessary?”

Donghae sits down on the chair next to him, taking Hyukjae’s hand on to his own.

“It will heal faster if it keeps steady,” he mutters, placing the splint against the wrist and putting a bandage over it. “You’d just make it worse if I don’t put this on.”

“Fine,” Hyukjae scoffs, eyeing the splint.

“How’s your head?”

“Still aching,” Hyukjae replies, but the ache is rather manageable. He’s more worried about the fact how emotional he feels inside. He’s not one to express his feelings, especially the more personal ones. This time, everything that has happened, has hit a bit too close to home. For the first time it is a bit too much, the deeply hid emotions lurking beyond the appearances, waiting for him to crack.

Donghae’s mother watches them, until she stands up to bring her empty tea cup to the sink.

“I’ll go to make a bed for you,” she says with a comforting smile.

Hyukjae nods, relieved that she’s asked for them to stay the night. At the moment, he wants to be anywhere else than home.

“Thanks. I could use a nap,” he mutters. He’s gotten quite used to the afternoon naps with his daughter, and today, he feels especially weary and ready to sink on to a mattress.

The woman watches her son for a moment, who’s currently collecting the spare bandages away.

“Donghae would you come help me with it?” she asks.

Donghae turns to look at her, shrugging. “Sure.”

Upstairs, as Donghae puts the pillows on top of the made bed, she speaks again, but Donghae’s already seen it coming.

“You should talk with him,” she says, giving him a pleading look.

Donghae bites the insides of his cheeks.

The woman sighs. “He’s had a hell of a day.”

“I know, mom,” Donghae hisses, sitting on the bed. “I just...” he starts, but he doesn’t know how to keep going.

“Hyukjae trusts you. He needs a friend, and you do care about him, so why are you trying so hard to push him away?” she asks, although she thinks she knows the reason. Donghae is her son after all, and in her eyes Donghae is very obvious, whereas Hyukjae is the oblivious one.

“Mom, I…” Donghae swallows, although there’s nothing to swallow. He knows he should talk with him, he doesn’t know how to. He wants to, but he’s too afraid of so many things. Especially of himself.

“Sweetie,” she sits next to him, as Donghae leans down and buries his face into his hands, frustrated. “You pushed him away in high school on purpose, didn’t you?” she continues, placing her hand on her son’s shoulder lovingly.

“Mom,” Donghae grunts in slight annoyance, letting out a tired exhale. He has never talked about it. He’s never told her about it, yet she knows. She always does.

“You know I love you, no matter what?” she notes gently, observing her son who shifts under the touch, uncomfortable. “Be honest with me, okay?”

“About what?” he asks, giving her a side eye.

“Do you love him?”

Donghae stiffens, cursing under his breath.

“Donghae, when you were kids, Hyukjae was your best friend. No one else made you happier than him. I’ve never seen you so happy. And that’s the only thing that matters to me—me and your father both. That you’re happy. And now that he’s back in your life, you look at him the same way, although you try to hide it very well.”

“Oh god, mom,” Donghae whines, massaging his forehead behind his hands. He couldn’t look her in the eye; she makes him feel like a fifteen year old again instead of his actual age of 23.

“You’re clearly important to Hyukjae as well. And he trusts you, but as I see it, he can’t see through you like I do. To be honest, I think he’s a little afraid of you.”

Donghae scoffs, finally courageous enough to look at his mother. “Afraid—of me? As if.”

“What I mean is…” she emphasizes, taking the young man’s hand to her own. “That he’s afraid that you’re going to leave. Again. He seems very insecure around you. Does he know why you stopped being friends?”

Donghae furrows his eyebrows, a thoughtful wrinkle appearing to his forehead.

“No…”

“So if he’d done the same to you, how would you feel?”

Donghae blinks a few times. He never thought about it from Hyukjae’s point of view.

“I… That there was something wrong with me….”

“He probably thinks the same way, you know.” She pets Donghae’s hair, and smiles comfortingly when their gazes meet. “What if he never stopped questioning what he did wrong to cause your friendship to break apart? Be his friend. He wants you to be.”

Donghae stares outside through the window, seeing how it rains again.

She stands up, pecking the young man’s hair swiftly. “I’ve said this before, but I’ll said it again. Just give him a chance. Besides, you’re not kids anymore.” She gives him one last look, a rather meaningful one.

When she leaves the room to go back downstairs, Donghae’s left alone. He can’t believe his mother; like that, he doesn’t need to hide who he is anymore. She’s known all along, and he’s been stupid enough to delay and delay the talk that their son isn’t straight. Now that the cat is out of the bag, he’s able to breathe a little easier – but coming out of the closet has been the easy part. The hard part is letting himself to feel the things he felt.

And he starts to wonder, if he should tell Hyukjae the truth; the reason why he let their friendship wither away. His mother’s words doesn’t leave him alone either, and it’s the one thing that’s hard to grasp to. Hyukjae afraid of him leaving? Why? Why does he want him in his life, after all he’s done? He doesn’t want to go anywhere. No, if it’s up to him – but is it?

Hyukjae has wanted to nap for even a few minutes, but after lying down on the bed he hasn’t been able to shut his eyes. Jiah, the fight, the police, even his neighbors and the fact that his neighbor is actually one of the moms from the park, doesn’t leave him alone. He can’t stop the thoughts racing inside his head; the doubt if he’s ever going to be good enough for his daughter; if he could be any better than Jiah was. He can’t find the confidence to believe in himself, for the sake of the girl. The bile on his throat hasn’t left him, it’s still there, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

Frustrated, he finally jolts up from the bed, deciding to go see if Jaemin is awake. The image of his scared, crying bundle of daughter keeps haunting him. How could he ever make anything right?

Hyukjae walks down the stairs to the first floor, but it’s quiet. He’s only able to hear some distant noises that sounds like a tv. As he reaches the hall, and takes a look towards the spacious living room, he sees the open tv and the back of Donghae’s head on the other side of the couch. He walks up to him, taking a look around. The couch is light gray, set in the middle of the room in front of the tv that’s hanging from the wall between a row of bookshelves. On the right he sees the long windows, that show the scene of their terrace and the backyard. He notices the rain has finally stopped.

“Hey,” he grumbles with a tired voice. “Where’s everyone?” And by everyone, he means his daughter.

Donghae turns to look at Hyukjae, who’s face is still bruised and scratched up, but the worst swelling has already come down.

“Mom took her out for a while,” he answers, facing back to the tv, legs raised on top of the coffee table. Hyukjae can’t focus enough to figure out the show that’s running.

“Where?”

“Probably the park nearby,” Donghae notes.

Hyukjae goes around the couch, and lets himself fall down on it, next to Donghae.

“How was she?”

Donghae turns to look at his old friend for a moment. “Better when she woke up. Kept asking about you, but we told her you were a little tired. Mom got her occupied enough, so you could sleep.”

The older male doesn’t answer back. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest, staring at the tv numbly. Almost half an hour goes by before neither of them says another word, and all the while Donghae has tried to make himself to execute what his mother has suggested. Talking. Not a big word itself, but what it might unleash is a different thing.

“How… How are you?” he finally asks, shutting the tv down without asking Hyukjae’s opinion.

Hyukjae’s throat keeps burning as he stares at the blackened screen in front of them.

“What do you mean?” he rumbles. He can’t quite take in Donghae’s question. He doesn’t think Donghae wants to know.

“I… I’m just asking how you feel. After...what happened with Jiah,” Donghae replies, a little cautious of his words.

Hyukjae sighs, leaning more into the couch’s armrest. He takes a look of one of the bite marks on his arm. There’s so many thoughts, so many fears, emotions and questions he hasn’t let out before. There hasn’t been anyone to talk about any of them. Now Donghae is asking, but does he want to know? To know what keeps him up at night? How uncertain he is? About nothing and everything?

“I don’t know,” he starts, wavering. “I really don’t know.”

But Donghae waits.

Hyukjae takes a look at the brunet, swallowing. He takes the other’s patience as a sign to keep on talking.

“I… I didn’t think she could be that bad. When I didn’t allow her to see the kid, she went… Nuts. I didn’t think she’d go that far.” He takes a breath, collecting his thoughts, which are a mess. “I can’t stop thinking that what if she’d hurt the girl instead of me. And all that… Everything… How am I ever going to be good enough for the kid?”

Donghae sees how Hyukjae bites his lips tight, and it makes him do the same. But the last sentence surprises him a little. He didn’t think Hyukjae would second guess himself so much.

“I’ve never been so afraid for anyone before,” Hyukjae exhales, clenching his fist. “What if I mess everything up again? I don’t… I don’t want to lose her too. Everyone else’s… Already gone.”

The silence settles down again for ten minutes, until Donghae stands up. He stops next to Hyukjae, giving him a questioning look.

“Do you want a beer?”

“What?”

“Do you want a beer? I could have one, thought you might want one too.”

Hyukjae furrows his brows, as he stares at Donghae. It starts to hit him, that even Donghae is human. He’s not perfect, even he likes his beer and fast food and carbs and whatever the hell he wanted from time to time. And although Hyukjae used to party a lot, it doesn’t make him an alcoholic. He can very well handle his alcohol when he wants, it isn’t a problem. And for real, he could use one right now.

“Sure.”

Donghae has noticed how quiet Hyukjae has been after the incident. But as he ponders it further, he starts to realize it’s not just about Jiah. It’s been a rough week. Hyukjae’s life has turned upside down in a matter of days; he’s had to take responsibility over something he never thought he would. He’s been the only person in Hyukjae’s daily life during that time, and it seems what Hyukjae has said before is true. There is no one else in his life who he could turn to. He hasn’t seen friends asking how he is, not even a phone call.

Donghae grits his teeth, as he blames himself for acting so harsh towards him, and takes two bottles from the fridge. As he walks back into the living room, he hands a beer for Hyukjae and sits next to him.

“You’re not going to lose her,” he finally replies, and Hyukjae looks at him with glossy, doubtful eyes.

“Do you even believe what you say?” Hyukjae grunts.

“I mean it. You’re different with her,” Donghae says, searching for the next words, “You… Those bruises and scratches and that splint on your wrist tells a lot.” The bottle cap hisses as the younger opens his own.

They aren’t on the same wavelengths yet when it comes to talking.

“What I’m trying to say… You fought for her. You were protecting her. That’s what… What dad’s are supposed to do,” he explains, lowering his gaze onto his lap. He isn’t very good at making the other feel better, but he hopes his words would mean something.

It takes a moment before Hyukjae answers.

“You think?”

“I do. You’ll make mistakes… Like everyone else.”

It’s hard to believe Donghae would actually mean it. He has been so adamant about it being a huge mistake to begin with. Would he change his mind so easy?

Donghae watches Hyukjae, hearing the deep inhale and seeing that his attempt to make the other feel better didn’t take. Hyukjae fiddles the bottle, his eyes hauled on to it, and it’s like there’s a dark cloud glooming over him, making him doubt everything. It’s rare, seeing that side of Hyukjae. He’s gotten so used to the confident one, who didn’t care what others thought. But Hyukjae isn’t as tough as Donghae thought he is.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” Hyukjae apologizes, staring at the unopened beer between his hands. “Into our life.”

“It’s...” Donghae tries to explain he doesn’t mind, but he doesn’t get a chance to continue.

“It was too much to ask for you. This has nothing to do with you. You have your own life, and now we’re just… Holding you back...”

Donghae’s rather taken aback by the ashamed tone, the fact it seems to bother Hyukjae. But it’s as if his mouth has been sewn shut, and he can’t make out a word to make Hyukjae think otherwise.

“I get it. You have your work, you’re trying to study… I’m in a different league with my daughter, my mistakes, my ed up mess of a life I’m trying to put back together. I understand why you don’t want anything to do with us. And if everything hadn’t been so messy, I wouldn’t have asked you,” Hyukjae rambles.

The forlorn look in his eyes – the discouragement, the glimmer on top of them – it tugs on Donghae’s heart. And he has to admit he hates the look. He doesn’t want Hyukjae to feel this way.

“And to be honest…” Hyukjae starts, opening his bottle at last, and taking a small sip. “I kinda hoped we could be friends again. But if it’s not something you want, I get it. I totally get it. You probably had your reasons to ditch me in school, although I still don’t...” the older’s voice has lowered to a mere murmur, and it takes an effort to make out the words he’s saying.

“It just… It just nags me that I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

“Hyukjae, it’s not...” Donghae finally opens his mouth, collecting every bit of courage he has inside. But his gaze remains lowered to his tighs, and the other takes it the wrong way as Donghae doesn’t look him in the eye.

“You don’t need to explain,” Hyukjae grunts, “What the heck does it even matter now? I don’t need to know. I don’t want to know. We’re going on our separate ways sooner than later, so why bother.”

Hyukjae rises from the couch, eyebrows furrowed low, his lips in a thin line. His passive aggressiveness is driving Donghae crazy. With Donghae he’s always been like that, even back in the days. Hyukjae always had a temper, but somehow he never let himself be angry with Donghae. And for once, Donghae wishes he would let it out.

“Hey,” Donghae hollers, his voice a bit braver and stronger than before. “You’re not going to let me explain?”

“What is there to explain?” Hyukjae snarls for once, spreading his arms and shrugging. “I was obviously not enough for you. You had new, cooler friends. Isn’t that it? You got bored with me.”

Donghae makes a wry face. His heart is beating way too fast, and he can feel the cold crawling on his back. He’s still not ready to say it out loud. What if it’s worse for Hyukjae than he’s thought? If the truth’s too much compared to what Hyukjae thinks?

“It’s not what you think!” Donghae snaps. His ears are burning, his breathing louder. “I never thought that way.”

“Then what the hell happened?” Hyukjae snarls back.

“I was a coward! I was afraid what you’d think if I told you.”

“Told me what?”

Donghae clenches his fists, burying his fingernails into his palms.

“That I was in love with you.”

Hyukjae halts on his feet, wide-eyed.

“I didn’t want anyone to know that I was – am different, and you were my weakest link. So I pushed you away.”

Hyukjae lets himself fall back on the couch, a puzzled look dominating his face. His head goes entirely blank. Unable to produce a coherent thought, let alone a word to say, he puts the bottle of beer on the table. He doesn’t trust his hands to hold it.

Donghae waits – and waits, and waits, but the man doesn’t say a word. But he doesn’t look mad either, which allows him to stop holding his breath. Hyukjae is everything but angry, far from it, and if Donghae judges him right, he’s just entirely lost. Perplexed.

Minutes go by, and not another word is exchanged. The frontdoor makes a clang, and soon Jaemin rushes in, calling her father with a mig smile.

“Daddy!” She clambers herself on to the couch, and Hyukjae captures her to his embrace, hugging and making the girl giggle. The expression goes from a confused to a smiling one in a nanosecond. Yet, the smile doesn’t reach his eyes in full.

Donghae’s mother follows the girl, laughing and holding four boxes of pizza. But her eyebrow rises, when she senses the strange air around the two men.

“We got some food,” she mutters, exchanging looks from Donghae to Hyukjae. “I also told her we could watch a movie?”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks, it smells awesome,” Hyukjae mutters, letting the girl go from his arms to Donghae’s. Donghae doesn’t look at him, but Hyukjae sees something behind his excited appearances as he talks with the girl, debating about the movie.

Jaemin seems to have forgotten the incident, as they all get together to watch Kung Fu Panda (her choice, not theirs).

The only thing Hyukjae catches about the movie, is the fact that a goose raised up a pretty decent panda bear – and the fact that Donghae loves him. Or loved him? Has he put it behind him – or is it possible the feelings are still there? What the heck is he supposed to think?

When he gives Donghae an inadvertent look and sees him laughing with his daughter, the confusion turns in to a herd of pandas running wild down on his stomach. Donghae’s laugh, his smile, his features, the way he is – they all suddenly seem very different in his eyes.

“The end,” Donghae finishes reading the short bedtime story to Jaemin, and puts the book down on the coffee table, ruffling the dark mess of the girl’s hair.

But Hyukjae and Donghae have only shared a few words since their so called conversation. Hyukjae still has no idea what to think about it. How is he supposed to react to something like that, when he has no idea what goes inside his stupid head?

“Okay, it’s time to go to bed,” Hyukjae mutters from the other side of the couch, getting up and lifting the girl to his arms. Jaemin giggles, circling her arm around her father’s shoulder. “Have you washed you teeth?” he asks, and the girl nods.

Donghae smiles at them, brushing his fingers through his hair. He doesn’t look Hyukjae in the eye. His shoulders are stiff.

“Say good night to Donghae,” Hyukjae says, already on his way to the stairs.

“Good night!” Jaemin replies, waving her hand to the younger man.

Donghae’s smile widens for a second. “Good night.”

Their gazes lock for a moment, but Hyukjae’s unable to read, or even guess what the other’s thinking either.

With a sigh, he brings the girl with him to Donghae’s brother’s old room, putting her down on the queen sized bed. The room is bigger than Hyukjae’s living room, and it has probably been newly decorated after Dongwha has moved out. It’s simple and calming – the whole house is. Somehow, it still surprises how welcome he feels there. Donghae’s mother is so nice to him and his daughter, even after all those years and all the mess Hyukjae’s now brought to their life.

Sighing again, he grabs the girl’s packbag and her pyjamas, offering them to the girl. “Put these on, ok?” he requests, and the four year old nods. It’s actually the first time Hyukjae would sleep through the night with his daughter, despite the many naps they’ve already taken during the days, usually on the couch. Sauntering to the other side of the bed where he’s brought his own bag of change of clothes, he ends up changing his jeans to the more comfortable colleges.

As he turns around again, Jaemin’s changed hers and is already snuggling down under the fluffy blanket.

“Doggy?” she asks with wide eyes, pouting her lips.

“Oh,” Hyukjae realizes, eyeing and then crouching down to his bag again, where he remembered to put the plushie. He takes the gray dog, that reminds him of a husky, and passes the Doggy to her.

She smiles, hugging the husky lovingly. Hyukjae smiles back, ruffling his own hair. The earlier conversation with Donghae is still taking a big part of his attention. He still can’t grasp to it.

Sitting down to the bed next to the kid, leaning against the big pillow behind his back, he’s tired but the thought of falling a sleep isn’t at the top of his list. So many thoughts still ran wild inside his head, and he isn’t sure if he regrets pushing Donghae to tell the truth, or is he actually glad knowing.

He peeks a look at the girl whose eyes are already drooping, but somehow, something seems to keep her awake too. Hyukjae pets the plush dog on her arms, absent-minded, pondering another thought that fighting with Jiah has made him realize. Before moving in with him, Jaemin probably didn’t know what having a parent meant. How many times had Jiah acted like a caring, unconditionally loving mother? Never? He wants the girl to know that he cares. That she could actually rely on someone – trust someone.

“Kid… I know today was rough,” Hyukjae starts, though he doesn’t quite trust his voice. All the emotions the day brought to the surface, are still rather fresh and raw for him. “But I… I want you to know that I… That I love you. Okay?” The words burn down on his throat, and he has to bites his lips so he wouldn’t start to cry. But he means it. He knows it. He wouldn’t stop loving her, no matter how ed up he is.

Hyukjae takes a look at the girl, who’s now snuggling against his side.

“Okay,” she says very, very softly, and Hyukjae circles his arm around her. He doesn’t expect her to answer. It feels it might be a bit soon, since she’s still trying to comprehend what the whole word means. Jiah most likely didn’t say it very often to her, and showed even less.

Hyukjae bites his lips harder, gazing to the ceiling as the tears try very hard to escape through his eyelids. For a while, they stay comfortably quiet. Jaemin’s breathing has gotten slower, but Hyukjae knows she’s not asleep yet. She keeps her eyes closed, and Hyukjae listens to Donghae’s voice looping inside his head, over and over again.

It’s the last thing he would’ve expected to hear. For all this time, he’s thought anything else but that. That he wasn’t cool enough, interesting enough, maybe they drifted apart, maybe he was too this and that, that he didn’t play soccer – but not that. He can’t understand it. How is it possible? He isn’t an easy person to love; there’s not much to love. Even the fact that it makes Donghae gay doesn’t bother him at all compared to the fact that someone could feel like that towards him.

And he has no doubt that Donghae has gotten over him. It has been so long. He couldn’t possibly still harbor those feelings, could he?

“Daddy…?”

Hyukjae hears a voice coming from his side, as Jaemin calls him, sleepy.

“What is it?” he asks, clearing his thoughts. He’s already put the lights off, and it’s dark in the room, but the street lights outside illuminate the girl’s features enough for him to see her. She gazes up to him, with puppy like, a bit shy eyes.

“Can… Can Donghae come?”

“Come… What?”

Jaemin’s sentences aren’t yet spot on, and she keeps stumbling, but Hyukjae’s glad she’s trying.

“Sleep. Here?” she goes on.

Hyukjae starts to understand what it is about. So far, Jaemin has gotten used to sleeping next to Donghae. It’s the first time without him, and she must miss it; the familiarity.

“With us?” Jaemin continues, as if trying to verify what she is trying to say. But Hyukjae gets it, loud and clear. It’s him who hesitates.

“I… I can ask if he wants to...” he mutters. If Donghae makes her feel more comfortable, he will. But after their talk, or rather, argument, or whatever the hell he should call it, he’s not sure if Donghae wants to. And it makes him feel a little selfish.

Jaemin’s face lightens up a little.

“I’ll go ask him, okay? Wait here,” he says, getting up from the bed. It’s closing to ten pm, and he doesn’t think the man is asleep yet either. But as he leaves the room and walks up to Donghae’s door that's left a little ajar, he stops. Biting his lips and scrathing the side of his neck, unsure, he ends ups knocking the door. Only because he promised to Jaemin.

At first, he doesn’t hear an answer, and he pokes the door a little, peeking inside. Donghae sits on an armchair beside his desk, reading with earbuds in his ears. He looks a little tense, and although it’s as if he should be reading a book, his eyes don’t move. He rather stares at the page, mind somewhere else. Hyukjae swallows, stepping forward.

“Donghae?” he calls him, and finally Donghae takes a note of the figure standing at his pheripheral vision. He lifts up his head, pulling the other earbud out of his ear.

“Hyukjae?” he asks back, a little taken aback. He has reading glasses over his nose, but he takes them off, placing them on the desk. “What is it?” His voice is smooth, yet surprised and a tad tired too.

Donghae doesn’t seem angry, at least. Hyukjae bites his lip between his teeth before he manages to get the question out in the air.

“Jaemin… She was… Asking for you,” Hyukjae mumbles, finding it difficult to find the right words. “I mean, she’s gotten used to sleeping with you...”

Donghae looks more surprised, but the expression is soft, a little abashed.

“Would it be, uhm, too much to ask for you to sleep with us?” Hyukjae grumbles, embarrassed.

“With you?” Donghae repeats.

“Mm.”

It takes a second, but then Donghae puts the book away and takes off the both earbuds, placing them with his phone on the table. As the brunet stands up, Hyukjae notes the gray tank top and the pyjama shorts, and he lets his eyes wander. How would a guy like Donghae have ever had the hots for him?

“Okay,” Donghae says, and Hyukjae wakes up from his stupor as Donghae now stands in front of him. He takes a short inhale, before he marches out of Donghae’s room.

Hyukjae’s tangled mess of a head makes it hard to think anything coherent. Silent, he leads them into their room, where Jaemin sits in the middle of the bed. A beaming smile rises to her lips.

“Donghaii!”

Hyukjae goes around the bed to his side, snorting.

“Now you’re saying it like that on purpose, aren’t you?” he teases, pulling the blanket over his lower body.

The girl giggles, hiding behind her plushie.

Hyukjae gazes back to Donghae, who slides on the other side of the bed with a toothy, curved smile.

“Happy now?” Donghae asks, tickling the girl’s arm.

She giggles again, and Hyukjae shakes his head in disbelief.

Donghae snuggles under the single blanket, lying down sideways. A soft hint of a smile still lingers up on his face, as he buries his arm under the pillow, leaning against it.

“Don’t steal all the blanket, Donghae,” Hyukjae murmurs as he finally slouches on his back, closing his eyes. The queen sized bed is a little tight for three people to fit, but he can manage. He’s been sleeping on his couch for a week, and this is definitely better than that. The clean sheets and the warmness are quickly making him feel sleepy. Somehow, he feels very comfortable, although there is a curious churn down on his stomach now. It almost feels as if they… He bits his tongue, throwing the thoughts out of his head.

“Okay, kiddo. Donghae’s here, time to sleep,” he rumbles, sighing.

“Good night daddy, good night Donghai,” the girl huffs, snuggling between them.

30.11.17
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