Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

jinyoung has had a habit of always, always, always coming to things on time. he’s insanely punctual, with a sixth sense for all the different ways the world can possibly impede him: he knows when there’ll be a bad storm, when there’s a subway delay, when his rice cooker is acting up in the morning again, and he plans accordingly. point is, he’s got a bit of a superpower: he’s not late. not ever.

so when he shows up late to work one thursday morning, everyone swarms around him the moment his fine pale blue scrubs colored ass walks into the children’s ward. by everyone, he means everyone.

“bambam,” jinyoung grits out as he fights to keep the hold on his pretty expensive coffee, “if you don’t let go of me in a second i’m going to make sure all your shifts for the next week are going to be helping yugyeom with diaper changing.”

bambam immediately backs off, even as he stares at jinyoung with eyes full of mischief and worry in turns.

“i’m fine, you guys,” jinyoung rolls his eyes. “slept in late, is all.”

it’s so silent you could hear a pin drop. in fact, jinyoung hears the tell-tale sniffle of someone crying.

he raises an eyebrow. “is no one going to get that?”

“hyung,” yugyeom starts, “you don’t just sleep in.”

“oh my god, who are you and what have you done with jinyoung,” bambam whispers, his hands reaching up to cover his mouth in faux surprise. with how far his dramatics goes, jinyoung is wholly unsurprised that bambam is so popular with the kids as he is.

“well, i slept in today,” jinyoung grumbles. he smacks yugyeom’s shoulder. “okay, now move. i want to sit down.”

jinyoung’s favorite part of his job is his chair. since he’s head nurse, he doesn’t have to walk around as much as the other nurses. there’s leeway in how many rounds he has to do and how many people he has to see. most of the time, he can sit at his chair and take care of all the paperwork. his chair, which has padded, warmed seating, a true haven in the frosty days of winter. with its lovely lumbar support and arm rests, jinyoung always feels like he can take on any distressed parent and sniffly child when he’s got some sitting time down.

while sipping on his hazelnut latte, jinyoung checks the check-in scorecard. first for his nurses, and then for the people they have in the ward. there’s been a couple of updates to some patients highlighted in green, and one or two people have been checked out, too. the ones that tend to stick around reside in the ICU or one of their specialized wards.

jinyoung smiles as he sees the doctors that are currently present.

they have three attendings at the moment, two of whom are finishing a pretty solid fellowship at their hospital from overseas. jinyoung peers at the screen over the top of his coffee cup, squinting at the nurses listed under each attending. quietly, he gets rid of kihyun’s name under im jaebum, MD/PhD and writes his own in. much better. why would anyone else but jinyoung ever be assigned to jaebum anyways? 

he settles back and gets to work on some insurance papers that have come in yesterday, changing patient reports, and answering phone calls with a deceptively pleasant voice. some days he feels more like a receptionist than he does a nurse.

but then when he leaves his desk in the front to the next morning nurse on shift – a peppy girl named nayeon who greets jinyoung enthusiastically every morning without fail – he remembers why he enjoys his job in the first place.

jinyoung heads inside the general playroom with an armful of approved snacks. he calls out, “where are all the kiddos today?”

“nyoungie!” the collective group of toddlers and kids yell back at him. jinyoung can’t help but smile. 

they swarm around his ankles, tugging at his pants and anywhere else they can reach. he laughs when one of them gives a particularly hard tug around his lanyard, and when their tiny bodies have pressed on him with enough insistence, jinyoung pretends to fall down in the midst of them all, groaning as if put upon.

one of the babies curls up underneath his arm, snuggling right into his side, and another sits on top of his waist. jinyoung laughs and shoos them away even as his cold insides begin to melt almost immediately.

“come on, if you’re all on top of me, how will i give you all your snacks?”

“snacks!” they crow, before finally lining up or sitting on the carpet to wait for their turn.

jinyoung watches with fondness building in his chest as the kids rip apart their bags of chips, chocolate, or cookies. everything has been vetted down to the ingredients list, something jinyoung would have done himself if the hospital hadn’t gotten there first. these kids are precious. all of them are like little stars he wants to keep shining bright, even if their light is a little dim with the ever hanging threat of sickness and antiseptic.

“did nurse park get you all something to eat?” a familiar voice calls out at the door. jinyoung’s smile goes from his wide, eye crinkled one for the kids to something smaller but no less genuine. “i hope we all said thanks, right?”

“thank you,” a mismatched solemn chorus rings out.

jaebum walks in chuckling, looking a bit worse for wear. when he meets jinyoung’s eyes, however, he offers a comforting look that says: don’t worry about me, i’m okay. just need a nap or something. jinyoung tilts his head back in response. okay, try to get some time for yourself, then. his eyes flick to the bright eyed and bushy tailed resident peering behind jaebum. mark or jackson can handle your workload.

“doubt it,” jaebum says in a low voice, affectionately gripping the back of jinyoung’s neck as he passes. his hands aren’t firm, but rather gentle, like a brief brush of his fingertips against the thin skin there.

youngjae blinks, looking lost. “did you guys have a conversation somehow? did i just miss all of it?”

“better get used to it,” yugyeom says breezily from the corner where he’s helping the children open their packets. his hair is mussed, as if someone’s tugged on it. “you know how our parents are.”

“no, he doesn’t, that’s why he’s asking,” bambam clicks his tongue.

“huh,” yugyeom pauses. “well, that’s what you get for being the new baby of the family.”

“don’t be ridiculous,” jinyoung says crossly, before a simpering smile grows on his lips. he coos, “you’ll always be my baby, gyeommie.”

yugyeom looks at him in thinly disguised horror. “please stop. hyung, really, that’s just – “

“why am i not your baby,” bambam cuts in, stomping his foot a little. the mischievous gleam in his eyes is enough to make the kids surrounding him laugh. jinyoung rolls his eyes and stands up, brushing the lint and crumbs off his lap. he waves to the babies before patting youngjae on the shoulder. the younger sends him a quick confused smile before heading over to one of the children in the corner to check on his breathing. jinyoung dallies by jaebum’s side, unsure if youngjae even knows jinyoung's name. they haven't really talked to one another in any given length of time. 

he doesn’t wait for long. jaebum’s fingers wrap around his wrist, pressing against his pulse point. he’s doing it to ground himself in the steady beat of jinyoung’s heart while in public, so he doesn’t break down in front of the kids and their parents or their hoobaes. jinyoung lets him.

“suji passed away yesterday,” jaebum says, voice low. his fingers might leave bruises if he squeezes any tighter, but like always, jaebum always knows how much to push. his grip loosens until he’s only holding onto jinyoung now instead of digging into his pulse. “at 2 am.”

jinyoung puts a hand on his shoulder. “i know,” he replies. after a while, it’s easy to get used to the signs, the impeding sense of falling down a cliff. watching light snuff out behind soulful eyes. jinyoung knows, because he had pushed jaebum out to tell the parents and was waiting when jaebum came back to tuck his head in the crook of jinyoung’s neck. jinyoung had slept in this morning, but it looks like jaebum hadn’t.

they move away from each other the next moment, moving to opposite ends of the room. the day goes on.

/

mark treats them out to a drink later on that week. he’s riding high on the lives of the two twins he had saved recently as one of their best pediatric surgeons currently on roll – and for good reason, jinyoung thinks. mark’s the type of surgeon that doesn’t think god is eating from his hands. he’s sweet, quiet but observant, and has a wistful way with kids that speaks of a past. jinyoung doesn’t ask. he doesn’t pry too much into the doctors’ personal lives, especially if they don’t want to talk about it.

(his only exception is jaebum.)

jackson tags along, and jinyoung knows more than he needs to about jackson’s life since the other is a pretty open book. when it comes to the little details about his life, at least, jinyoung thinks he knows too much about jackson’s new protein shake diet or the leaking faucet in his bathroom. but jackson never talks about his family, or how he feels whenever he loses a patient. jinyoung sees his quiet, tense form for one day, and by the time twenty-four hours is up, jackson has reset back to the man jinyoung is familiar with.

(jaebum can’t hide from jinyoung the same way jackson can.)

their friendship had stemmed from working numerous shifts together for a year or so, seeing each other and their professional best and worst. jinyoung still remembers the shitshow of his first two years in the pediatric ward; working under a much older doctor with the same name as him (who also happened to be the director of the pediatric surgery department) and running around after the head nurse at the time, sunmi. they were short-staffed after a particularly bad scandal the hospital had gotten into with certain doctors accepting bribes, and jinyoung had been thrown together with numerous other doctors.

multiple nurses had quit, on a pay strike, and jinyoung was too new to afford giving up the job. he had been shoved into the position of head nurse out of necessity, given new hires, and came back to his apartment at night to cry in bed. at the sheer stress. it had gotten so bad that jaebum, who was working under dr. park jinyoung directly, had to step in. he never left.

things got better. he and jaebum, they work together like a well-oiled machine. for a while it had just been the two of them holding up the ward for the most part, worked to the bone and exhausted by the end of the day. and then mark had come over from america for his fellowship in surgery, wanting to train under the director’s prodigy; jackson followed half a year later, and multiple others joined their department full time instead of rotating around or being called from other wings of the hospital. jinyoung was able to train more nurses, yugyeom being one of the first ones he had taught personally.

and yet, while they all have their faults, and may perhaps not know each other as well as a group of friends who had been forced together should, jinyoung finds himself fond of all these idiots.

sitting around the table, jinyoung downs his bowl of rice wine and sighs in content. he smacks jaebum’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “hyung, can you grill more pork belly? i want to make a wrap.”

jaebum grunts in acquiescence, adding more pieces of meat on the grill to sizzle. unfazed, mark twirls his chopsticks in his ramen before slurping it up like a teenager instead of the thirty year old that he is.

“you know, this is what we call whipped culture,” jackson points his chopsticks at jinyoung like an old man. probably too scared to point them at jaebum, since jinyoung lets disrespect like that slide more easily. “jaebum-ah, make me pork belly too!”

“make it yourself,” jaebum sighs. “also, it’s hyung, you brat.”

jackson, predictably, explodes. “i’m barely younger than you!”

“he has to keep up appearances with the kids,” jinyoung says.

“you’re barely younger than him, why are you taking his side?!”

mark pats jackson on the head, as if it’ll cool him down somehow. “jinyoung has to take his husband’s side, don’t be stupid.”

jaebum and jinyoung splutter in unison; jinyoung reaches up to make sure that his ears aren’t turning red, one of the parts of himself that he’s the most self-conscious about. jackson’s previous pouting demeaner smooths over into a smirk.

“how many years has it been now?” he says gleefully, “fifteen years?”

“we met fifteen years ago,” jaebum grumbles, rolling his eyes at jackson. “we’ve been working together for what? five, i think?”

“yeah, five,” jinyoung confirms. “we have this conversation every time we have dinner together. old age catching up to you?”

“please, don’t make him start,” mark sighs, despite being the oldest out of them all.

fifteen years together, jinyoung thinks, and he still hasn’t built up the courage to tell jaebum how he feels.

jaebum reaching over to place perfectly grilled pork belly on his plate doesn’t help the swooping feeling in jinyoung’s stomach at all. in fact, it just makes it worse – makes him feel like he’s sixteen again and skipping class again to eat out at his uncle’s restaurant with jaebum. jinyoung likes it best when jaebum grills for him; the perfect amount of well done and outside crispiness is just to his taste. that’s all, really.

mark watches with a raised eyebrow as jinyoung makes a wrap and leaves it on jaebum’s plate. the judgement makes jinyoung raise an eyebrow in turn, eyes flicking to jackson. jaebum gave him all of the pork belly – it’s only kind to reciprocate.

this is a song and dance all of them have replayed for years, now. every month that passes by, he learns something new about mark, jackson, and jaebum, just like the way they learn something new about him. today’s new fact is: jinyoung makes the best wraps, as evident by the way jaebum sighs in happiness as he chomps down.

jinyoung watches him eat with a familiar sense of pride, before pulling up a napkin and forcefully wiping his mouth. “why are you so goddamn messy? are you an adult or what?”

he misses the exasperated look mark and jackson send each other.

mark pays for their soju and all the other drinks that they order, including jinyoung’s increasing bowls of sweetened rice wine. jaebum pays for all the meat, jackson pays for the banchan. jinyoung pitches in with the tip and the pancakes they demolished early on in the night.

“damn, i’m full,” mark sighs as he sits back. jinyoung has never met anyone who enjoys korean barbeque as much as mark does, despite not having a drop of korean blood in him. he speaks it really well too, with the same amount of derision and sharp wit that’s usually found in natives. “good thing i’m not on shift tomorrow.”

“yeah, me and the others have it all covered,” jaebum says. “hyunwoo says he’s going to pull shifts this week to take next week off, and we have a bunch of new residents after youngjae. i might assign one of them to you or jackson.”

“babies,” jackson mumbles, before breaking out into a giggle. “i love my job.”

so jackson is drunk, jinyoung surmises.

they pour jackson into a cab, waving goodbye to mark as he joins the other to make sure he gets home safe. jinyoung pulls the sleeves of his coat further over his hands, waving with balled up fists to get rid of the cold.

“come on,” jaebum starts when the cab disappears, “you’re going to catch a cold if we stay out here any longer.”

“i’m fine!”

“you catch colds way too easily,” jaebum scolds. his mouth curling up in a small smile, he says, “don’t argue with me, i’m a doctor.”

jinyoung stares at him incredulously. “did that actually just come out of your mouth? did you just say what i think you said?”

jaebum breaks out into laughter. his arm winds its way around jinyoung’s shoulders, pulling him closer to the warm line of jaebum’s side. jinyoung knocks onto his hip and rubs his quickly freezing fingers together. they talk about useless, senseless things as they walk back together to jinyoung’s apartment first, since it’s closer to the bar and restaurant they frequent on nights like these. at some point, jaebum quiets down and jinyoung follows after, naturally more reticent. he soaks in jaebum’s presence instead of pushing for conversation.

“want to come in?” jinyoung asks, twisting his head to look at the curve of jaebum’s ear. “you could stay the night and we can head into work together.”

“sounds good,” jaebum says. while jinyoung is fishing around for his keys, he asks, “did i leave a pair of my scrubs here?”

“yeah, i have them where they usually are. you left your good pair here.”

“huh, i figured. i couldn’t find them yesterday…” his voice trails off as they head inside jinyoung’s warm apartment.

/

jinyoung, of course, is not late. he walks in with his morning latte – bought by jaebum this time around, since jinyoung had offered up his bed and his home – and as per usual, no one is confused by jaebum trailing after him.

“good morning,” yugyeom calls out. in the morning, when the shift is just starting and he’s sleepy and quiet, jinyoung thinks yugyeom is like a cute child himself: wanting attention, warmth, and a nice word. jinyoung offers it up too easily, unable to help himself. jinyoung smooths down yugyeom’s hair as he separates from jaebum, mumbling a greeting in return.

“do you have any tea, hyung?” yugyeom asks blearily, rubbing his eyes. jinyoung fixes a stray hair on his head. “we ran out in the break room.”

“don’t think so. it’s soohyun’s turn to bring the tea from the cafeteria, maybe ask her?”

“i’ll text jungkook to get me some from the ER,” yugyeom yawns. “they always have caffeine stocked there.”

which is why jinyoung isn’t surprised when jungkook shows up an hour later, holding three boxes of tea. his nose is scrunched up in annoyance, most likely at yugyeom, but when he spots jinyoung at his chair (his lovely, favorite chair) his expression smooths over. visibly brightening, jungkook heads over to jinyoung. “jinyoung-sunbaenim,” he starts, ducking his chin toward his chest. if jinyoung remembers correctly, jungkook had started the same year yugyeom did. “do you know where gyeom is? he said he would be here for his fix.”

“i sent him off to grab some more IV bags from the stock room,” jinyoung says. “he needs the exercise. how are you doing jungkook-ah? i thought i told you multiple times to call me hyung.”

“i’m okay,” jungkook replies quietly. he sets the tea down on the desk. “i’m working on hour 13 of my shift, so starting to get a little tired.”

jinyoung shakes his head. “i’ll never understand how you guys do it.” jinyoung’s own brief stint as an ER nurse during his rotations had left him reeling, feeling more like a zombie and prone to fits of random crying. seokjin had always managed it way better than jinyoung ever could. “while we’re on the topic, how is seokjin-hyung? i haven’t seen him in a bit.”

jungkook shrugs, but there’s a glimmer of something in his eyes that endears jinyoung to him, just like it had when seokjin first introduced them. “last i saw him, he was dumping coffee over taehyung-hyung, so who knows. i think that means he’s in a great mood.”

jinyoung snorts. jungkook breaks out into a wide smile, looking much younger in a snap of his fingers. “tell yugyeom that i dropped off his tea and that he owes me! i need to go back to the ER. see you later, sunbaenim.”

jinyoung shakes his head. “bye, jungkook-ah.”

he’s in the midst of taking a picture of the tea and sending it to the group chat that he has with some of the head nurses from other wings when yugyeom drags himself in, yawning. he looks dead on his feet. taking pity on him, jinyoung pats one of the boxes of green tea. jinyoung finishes up his message with, why can’t i have seokjin-hyung’s kids? mine are too much trouble lol before turning off his phone and asking, “where’s bambam?”

yugyeom’s dunking his tea bag in and out of the hot water he’s poured for himself. he groans, “how would i know? i’m not his keeper.”

of course. one sip of caffeine, even the smell of it, and the snuggly yugyeom jinyoung knows is gone. jinyoung doesn’t bother following up with him, turning his attention to a mother who is asking for the whereabouts of her daughter.

for the most part, their ward keeps the kids that are too sick to be released to the outside world, too chronic to be kept for a short amount of time, or those who are recovering from surgery. the kids who may not have anyone to look after them all the time. the kids who are born with illness, the kids who some parents think are too much trouble to keep. too much heartbreak to possess.

jinyoung hurts for them instead. he pats yugyeom on the shoulder and tells him to take over the benchwork for a moment, shrugging on a cardigan in order to make his rounds. he handles all of jaebum’s patients, making sure that they’re well fed and not getting any worse. hopefully, getting better.

“how are you, seungmin?” jinyoung hums as he takes the kid’s blood pressure and checks his breathing. seungmin makes a little noise and starts blabbering about the new game his mom brought him for his nintendo switch. jinyoung listens patiently while nodding all the while. “oh, look at that – think you grew a little!”

“i’m gonna be taller than my hyung,” seungmin says proudly, huffing when jinyoung pushes his fingers close together to show how much he’s grown. “no, no! more than that! i grew more than that!”

most of the day goes about the same. jinyoung reads to some of the kids after a short lunch and continues to update their charts, checking jaebum’s truly atrocious handwriting once in a while on medication changes. he juggles teary-eyed, angry, sullen, and nervous parents for most of the morning; jinyoung has gotten the art of staring down a hysterical mother down to a science.

which is why when he gets to his next patient, he’s taken aback for the first time in a long, long while.

“hwang hyunjin?” jinyoung reads off the chart, flipping it down so that he can smile at the child resting on the bed. “my name is jinyoung. you can call me nurse park, but that sounds so stuff,” he crinkles his nose, meeting wide eyes. “so jinyoungie or hyung is okay, too.”

hyunjin is a small child with thin, delicate limbs, barely six years old. he looks like he’s four, with wide watery eyes that stare at jinyoung as if he’s made of light, and a small mouth. his dark black hair flops endearingly in front of his eyes and reminds jinyoung of a small domesticated animal.

like the professional he is, jinyoung resists the urge to coo. that can be saved for later interactions, he tells himself insistently.

when the kid still isn’t answering, jinyoung’s smile falters a little. he peers behind him, wondering if someone has walked after him (if yugyeom is making bunny ears behind him, which he has done before), but there’s no one. jinyoung turns back around to see hyunjin startlingly and alarmingly red, the flush working up from his neck to his ears.

jinyoung rushes to the kid’s side, immediately reaching forward to press a hand to hyunjin’s forehead. it’s warm, but not feverish. just in case, jinyoung sets his chart aside to take out the thermometer. “hyunjin-ah, are you okay? are you feeling dizzy, cold, or like you have to throw up?”

“n-no,” hyunjin stutters out. his voice is tiny and shy. jinyoung just wants to pinch his cheeks. “i’m o-okay. sorry…”

“oh, what are you sorry for? here, let me take your temperature.”

hyunjin thankfully doesn’t have a fever, but he doesn’t lose the flush. jinyoung shuffles in a bit closer. “are you allergic to anything, hyunjin-ah? you’re just very flushed.”

alarmingly, tears spring up in the corner of hyunjin’s eyes, and he sniffles. jinyoung hurriedly wipes away any stray wetness from the corner of his eyes.

“sorry,” hyunjin says again, “i’m… i’m… youngie-hyung is p-pretty,” hyunjin stutters, a small lisp causing his ‘r’s to sound like ‘w’s. he holds his palms to his cheeks and squishes them together as jinyoung rears back in surprise. “sorry…”

“no, don’t be sorry,” jinyoung laughs. so he had been blushing. he smooths down the side of hyunjin’s hair. “let’s check how you’re doing, yeah?”

other than the early mishap, hyunjin has nothing else physically wrong with him from jinyoung’s check up. jaebum has yet to come visit him, since hyunjin had been admitted earlier today, and jinyoung writes down his height and weight – both a little too low for a kid his age – and hums as he pours a glass of water for hyunjin and covers his feet with the blankets properly.

“is your mom or dad around here?” jinyoung asks kindly as he prepares to leave. “should i call them in for you to see the doctor?” mildly, he wonders where they’ve gone if hyunjin already has a room.

but hyunjin doesn’t answer with the same kind of bright eyed enthusiasm most kids here have when their parents are mentioned. instead, he fidgets in his blankets, wrapping his pinky finger around the edge. quietly, he says, “hyunjinnie doesn’t have a mommy or daddy.”

jinyoung freezes, truly not expecting that answer. hyunjin doesn’t seem sad about it, just sullen and uncomfortable in a way that tells jinyoung’s quickly dropping stomach that this is something that has long been a well-known fact rather than a recent event.

“mister park took me here,” he finishes. “i was sick an’ he took me to doctor to get better. then he said i was very sick, and that here the doctor will make me better.” he blinks at jinyoung.

jinyoung’s mouth is dry. “oh, i see.” he makes an abortive movement toward hyunjin before stilling. “would you like something to eat, hyunjin? i can try getting it for you. do you like pancakes? we had pancakes for all the good boys and girls this morning.”

“never had a pancake,” hyunjin says shyly. jinyoung smiles at him again. he heads out with his head rattling full of thoughts, walking toward their food stash in order to grab something for hyunjin. they have orphans, of course, but most have already been adopted by a couple in order for the kids to stay in the long-term facility that they run here. jinyoung’s heart goes out to hyunjin almost immediately. that’s probably what drives him to include a carton of chocolate milk instead of the regular water and juice that they serve in the mornings along with a plate of pancakes, butter syrup, and fruit.

“hyunjin-ah,” jinyoung knocks on the door before entering, “here’s something for you to eat!”

hyunjin eats really well, jinyoung notices. he’s already well through his cup of fruit when he turns to jinyoung and tugs on the end of his sleeve. “can…can you stay?” he asks shyly, holding onto the fork. “an’ help?”

jinyoung knows that he shouldn’t, that he should really finish what he has to do for the hour before his own lunch break, but the way hyunjin looks at him – so trusting, so wide eyed and lost in a way that most kids don’t look at him – has jinyoung sitting at the edge of the bed and gently taking the fork from him.

it’s not like he hasn’t fed other kids, he reasons to himself. he’s fed a bunch of the other babies before – when they can’t feed themselves, when they’re crying and sullen, he’s done it all. so this isn’t out of the ordinary or strange, he tells himself.

hyunjin is obedient like a baby bird, eating whatever jinyoung gives him in small bites and puffed cheeks. jinyoung can’t resist the urge any longer and pinches him fondly, laughing when the boy makes a sound.

“hyunjin eats so well,” jinyoung praises, feeding him some applesauce to help wash down the sweetness of the pancakes. “do you like anchovies, hyunjin-ah? do you want some as a snack after your dinner?”

“yeah,” hyunjin says brightly, tangling his fingers together in a sticky mess.

“i hope those anchovies don’t swim around in your stomach after you eat them,” jaebum says from the door. jinyoung digs a little too deep in the applesauce container at the unexpected addition, and hyunjin’s smile fades immediately at the stranger.

“ah,” jaebum starts, “did i interrupt something?”

“no, no,” jinyoung laughs. “hyunjin, this is your doctor that mister park took you here to see, dr. im.”

“doctor im,” hyunjin repeats dutifully. “is he a nice doctor? he won’t give me shots?”

jaebum solemnly holds his palm to his chest. “cross my heart and hope to die, hyunjin. jinyoung is the one who gives shots.”

hyunjin gasps. “no! nyoung is nice! shots are bad!”

“when i give them, they don’t hurt at all,” jinyoung promises. he wiggles his fingers and tickles hyunjin briefly, a flash of something indecipherable crossing his face as he realizes he can feel ribs through hyunjin’s small gown. “i’ll be right outside. be good for doctor im, okay?”

hyunjin nods, his eyes trailing after jinyoung as he leaves. he can hear jaebum’s voice trail off as he walks away from the room go, “so hyunjin-ah, let’s listen to your breathing, okay? can you sit up for me? ….”

bambam is waiting for him near his desk, typing away at the computer. he looks a little bit worse for wear, his hair curling at the edges. it’s been dyed a nice dark magenta purple, a color that suits his skin tone very well. jinyoung settles down into his chair and begins his own reports, but his mind travels back to hyunjin and the way he had clutched onto jinyoung’s sleeve.

“hyung?”

jinyoung turns around to face bambam. the other pauses. “you okay?”

“yeah, i’m fine. why?”

“nothing,” bambam says slowly. “you just look a little – unnerved.”

jinyoung tries his best to smooth his expression over, but that’s the worst rookie move in the book. that means that he had been unnerved by something.

“really, i’m fine,” jinyoung says, turning his attention to his phone. it’s a clear dismissal that jinyoung doesn’t want to talk about it, and for all that bambam can be over the top, he knows when to let things be when it matters. jinyoung focuses on the responses in his group chat; haha you can take these fuckers except for jungkook and eunha, says seokijn, why don’t any of you want my girls? i’m ready to retire, says taeyeon, the eldest of them all. the rest of the conversation is comprised of emojis and stickers.

jinyoung knows that he shouldn’t, but when he gets to hyunjin’s records while putting them into the computer, he hesitates. he takes the opportunity to look over the numbers closely, reading into the lines about the reasons that hyunjin is here: excess bruising, coughing up blood, weakness and fatigue… he hasn’t been diagnosed with anything, but had just gotten his tonsils removed and they had found that he was bleeding way, way too much without clotting. jinyoung fills in the details about his visit today, adding in the low numbers that make up his weight and height. so small for a six-year-old.

when jaebum comes back out, a frown on his face and his left hand clicking incessantly at the end of his pen, he meets jinyoung’s eyes.

i need you to be strong, his gaze says. there’s no way jaebum, who has known him for almost half of jinyoung’s entire lifetime, didn’t pick up on the fact that jinyoung had coddled hyunjin a little more than the other children.

just tell me what i have to do, jinyoung raises an eyebrow and drums his fingers on the desk.

“i’ll need these blood tests,” jaebum says, setting down a list of ordered labels. “it shouldn’t be too much, just two vials. i have a hunch about something. hyunjin asked if you could be the one to do it.” jaebum is quiet, considers something for a second. “i’ll come with you.”

“right – right now?” jinyoung hasn’t done a blood draw in a hot minute, especially since they have staff for that specific purpose – a whole department, really – but jaebum seems so sure. he doesn’t want to do it himself; he wants jinyoung specifically to do it. bambam looks in between them, confused, but not willing to pitch in.

“yeah,” jaebum says, “it has to be you.”

while they’re walking down the hallway, away from most prying eyes, jaebum holds onto his wrist again before they make it to hyunjin’s room. he doesn’t say anything, just gives jinyoung a look. eyes serious, his mouth pursed in a line. and then he lets go.

“i’m going to go see where jackson is,” jaebum says, and leaves.

hyunjin doesn’t look like he’s been crying, thankfully, but he does seem a bit more disheartened than before. upon seeing jinyoung, though, a rosy flush rises to his face and he smiles widely. “hi!”

“hi, hyunjin,” jinyoung laughs, and closes the door behind him. he doesn’t know what jaebum was trying to tell him out there; he’s fine. not unnerved. he’s just fine.

/

hyunjin is playing with the other kids the next day, already making friends with seungmin and another older child named bangchan. they’ve made themsleves the beginning of a little group in the corner. jinyoung would usually be at his desk for his lunch break after giving the kids their snacks, but he finds himself dallying today. there’s gauze and a batman band-aid at the crook of hyunjin’s elbow.

yugyeom finds him first, pushing his shoulder gently so jinyoung will move over. well, gently for yugyeom, which means that jinyoung nearly topples over his ottoman.

“for god’s sake, watch yourself,” he mumbles, shooting yugyeom a sharp glare.

blithely, yugyeom goes, “it’s not my fault you’re such a delicate flower, hyung. maybe try one of jackson’s chicken breast protein shakes?” he giggles at the end, all haughty and bratty in one.

jinyoung flicks him on the forehead, earning a yelp from yugyeom and a red spot where his quick fingers had been. “what are you doing here? i though you were going on your rounds.”

“i finished,” yugyeom says. “i wanted to play with the kids!”

“don’t stay for too long, make sure you’re doing whatever jackson says.”

“yes, i know,” yugyeom rolls his eyes. he works closely with jackson, who’s loud and exuberant personality is enough to keep some of yugyeom’s mischievous and teasing nature in check. most of it, jinyoung thinks, but not all. “did you see the baby doctor anywhere? jackson said that he wants supposed to be in charge of him today but true to form, he has no idea what’s going on.”

“jackson-hyung,” jinyoung corrects, pinching yugyeom’s ear. “and why are you tracking down jackson’s residents for him? he should be doing it himself.”

“why are you blaming me? that’s what i told him,” yugyeom whines. “i have better things to do with my time, you know. people are sick,” he sighs, holding the back of his head to his forehead. “maybe my talents are best used elsewhere. maybe i should just quit this department and join the ER, or the endocrinology department, or – “

“just try it, kim yugyeom,” jinyoung says, amused despite himself. “go find youngjae and tell jackson to take responsibility already.”

yugyeom salutes him. “i’ll let him know i have explicit permission to disrespect him from mom. thanks bye!” he rushes off in a mess of long limbs before jinyoung can open his mouth to protest.

jinyoung shakes his head, amused despite himself. hyunjin walks up to him while jinyoung is peeling apples for the kids, deftly holding the knife in his hand as the peel comes off in one smooth motion. hyunjin stares wide eyed at him as if it’s the coolest thing he’s ever seen.

“how?” he marvels, fingers pressing on the crook of jinyoung’s elbow.

“i don’t know,” jinyoung admits. “it’s just something i always knew. does hyunjinnie want an apple?”

he cuts the next one into bunny apples, eating the remnants of his art with glinting eyes. the kids filter in and out, some of them getting apple mush all over their front, but hyunjin remains next to jinyoung with wide eyes. he asks questions about the room, the other kids, how long he’ll be here, why did they paint the walls yellow, how come they don’t have the same chocolate pudding for dessert every lunch, and more insistently, about jinyoung.

finally, after jinyoung answers hyunjin’s cute questions about his favorite type of ice cream, he laughs and says, “don’t you want to ask your new friends these questions, hyunjinnie? i’m old and boring, aren’t i?”

“no,” hyunjin mumbles, looking shy. he suppresses a yawn, and jinyoung affectionately smooths a hand over the crown of his head.

“okay, do as you like, then.”

jinyoung’s attention gets stolen by a minor scuffle on the side with two of the girls and a pretty old doll that they both like to share – he calls out in a gentle reprimanding voice not to fight, and that they could both experience time out if they won’t share – before a weight falls onto his lap. jinyoung looks down to see hyunjin fast asleep, his thumb securely in his mouth.

he snorts, gently pushing it out and wiping it down with the side of his sleeve. it feels like a quiet, unobtrusive moment, despite the noise around them. he wonders briefly about how this has tired hyunjin out so easily, despite it only being around 1 in the afternoon, but the thoughts disappear as hyunjin breathes quietly as he sleeps. his chest rises quickly, just like a baby’s. jinyoung tucks his hair behind his ear.

“jinyoung,” jaebum says quietly above him to grasp his attention. jerking, jinyoung pushes a finger up to his lips to tell jaebum to be quiet, but when he looks around, the ringing silence of the room greets him. everyone has cleaned up and shuffled out back to their rooms. yugyeom is sweeping the floor and placing toys back where they belong. it says a lot that he won’t look at jinyoung, which means that he had been the one to call jaebum over. “come on, we need to bring hyunjin back to his room.”

“is…lunchtime is over,” jinyoung says, more of a reminder to himself than an actual question.

jaebum still answers. “yeah, it’s over. come on.”

how long had jinyoung been sitting there, stroking hyunjin’s hair and watching him sleep peacefully?

“i…” jinyoung’s mouth works open and close for a moment, at a loss. “i think my leg is asleep.”

wordlessly, jaebum nods and kneels down to slide his arm under the nape of hyunjin’s neck, another around the back of his knees. he holds hyunjin carefully in his arms, making sure not to ruffle him too much. jinyoung presses the heel of his palm against his thigh, trying to get rid of the pins and needles running down his leg.

jaebum patiently waits. jinyoung stumbles up a moment later, feeling wrong footed and off, his heart pounding at the way jaebum looks with a child cradled carefully in his arms.

“come on,” the older says, and they go to put hyunjin to bed. if it weren’t for the bright white walls, the linoleum floor, and the feeling of his pager against his thigh, jinyoung would have fooled himself into thinking this was one of his wistful dreams. the ones where he had jaebum as a best friend and more, where jaebum would curl his fingers around jinyoung’s waist or hide his smoky laughter at the crook of his neck at some antics done by foggy remnants of wanted family.

hyunjin doesn’t make much noise as he rests, simply snuffling a little before allowing himself to be tucked in by jinyoung.

jaebum reaches out to hold onto jinyoung’s wrist as he leaves. he feels his pulse skyrocket, but jaebum only pulls him closer. he reaches up to press his thumb under jinyoung’s right eye, the rest of his fingers gently curling around his face.

“take the rest of the day off,” jaebum says.

“i’m fine,” jinyoung argues.

“please. go home and sleep, nyoung.”

and jinyoung, because he is a fool, just nods.

/

mark decides to visit that night, bringing with him a bag full of home run ball and a bottle of wine since jinyoung doesn’t like beer all too much. jinyoung takes one look at him standing at the entrance of jinyoung’s admittedly small apartment, still in his scrubs, and mulls over the feeling in his stomach.

“can i come in?” mark asks finally, and jinyoung steps aside.

his apartment is small and cosy, and he knows that technically he could afford better, but jinyoung has gotten too used to this space. two bedrooms is enough for himself and one more guest, and each corner of his apartment has enough of him and his little touches for it to feel like home.

“is that jaebum’s computer?” mark asks as he sits on the couch.

“yeah, he left it here two days ago,” jinyoung takes the offered provisions to his kitchen. “i just made dinner. do you want any?”

“no, i’m okay,” mark says, but his stomach rumbles at the smell of kimchi jjigae that jinyoung has on the stove a moment later. with a raised eyebrow, jinyoung gives mark a look and opens the package of snacks, unable to help himself just before dinner. sheepishly, the other goes, “i really can’t handle spicy food. yours always taste like a nuclear reactor in my mouth.”

jinyoung rolls his eyes. “it’s not that spicy!” jinyoung has eaten korean food all throughout his life growing up, especially in his hometown, and he knows that the amount of spice he can take is perfectly normal. jaebum can have it, after all, and he likes korean food more than jinyoung does. quietly, jinyoung is determined not to mention to mark that the only reason he makes kimchi jjigaeso much is because it’s the only dish he can pull off after learning it extensively from jaebum. “i can make you a sandwich if you want, though.”

“if you have any coffee, i’ll take that,” mark suggests.

embarrassed, jinyoung scratches the back of his head. “actually, i don’t have any coffee at home…is tea okay?”

“what? but you always have a coffee cup when you’re heading in to work?”

“i get it because it’s necessary, not because i love it,” jinyoung pours himself a bowl of stew and preps another bowl of rice. “i like tea a lot more. jaebum-hyung likes having coffee in the morning.”

“shouldn’t you have it then regardless?” mark quips under his breath, and jinyoung whirls around to glare at him. mark looks like he hadn’t said anything at all, a picture of pure innocence.

jinyoung sets out to make him a cup of tea anyways, sighing to himself when he realizes that he won’t have enough rice. deciding to just make do for tonight, he pours himself a glass of water. “what’s up with the visit?”

mark makes a noise. “what, i can’t just come visit?”

he could, jinyoung thinks, but mark’s visits are usually dotted with other reasons behind it. he likes his privacy, his introverted time to just sit back and unwind, and that is usually after his shift ends. when he can finally take his scrubs off, jinyoung knows that he’s no longer doctor tuan, but just…mark. and mark showed up in full grandeur. and mark wouldn’t be coming if it jinyoung hadn’t been told to go home early.

jinyoung’s silence is enough of an answer. mark sighs. “listen, jinyoung… our jobs aren’t easy. you know this better than anyone, getting the bad end of things when you first started. and what we do is arguably even harder.” he stands up and rests against the counter opposite jinyoung, who won’t look at him. a feeling of dread rises in his stomach. he seems like he’s waiting for an answer, however, and jinyoung has no choice but to respond.

“i love doing it, though,” he says. he couldn’t have asked for a better job.

“i know,” mark half smiles. even when tired, jinyoung thinks, he’s astoundingly handsome. “but working with kids? not a lot of people could do it. i know a lot of doctors that wanted to go in as pediatricians, gynecologists, pediatric surgeons… but it’s hard. kids are a different battle all together from adults, who can give as good as they get. and i know you know this.”

jinyoung’s bottom lip trembles.

mark must notice because his burgeoning tone takes a step back. “i’m just saying, jinyoung. please, please be careful.”

“i am careful.”

mark lets that sit in the air for a while. jinyoung washes bowls for a lack of anything better to do. “you usually are, yeah,” he starts slowly. “but i think you know why i’m here. why jaebum told you to go home early.”

jinyoung’s shoulders stiffen. “if you’re going to stand here and – “

“you usually act like you’re above all that pain, that distress,” mark continues blithely, “that none of that misery can touch you. that you’re a rock, unable to be swayed by the kind of suffering and death we see in those rooms, but you’re not. you feel way too much, jinyoung, and they had put you in a high position too early. they had made you shove back everything you were supposed to learn how to deal with.”

“i can deal with it just fine,” jinyoung’s tone is icy.

“at work, yeah. you could be the poster child for not getting attached. but i know different. we all do.” mark presses his lips together. “and i don’t know if this kid will be the one to finally tear that all down. i don’t want that to happen to you.”

“did – “ jinyoung’s knuckles are white with how hard he grips his chopsticks. “did jaebum-hyung send you here?”

“you sat at that spot with hyunjin in your lap for an hour and a half, jinyoung,” mark tells him. when jinyoung meets his eyes in surprise, there’s something pitying in mark’s eyes, but also understanding. “you didn’t even realize you were there. jaebum wasn’t the only one who saw.”

jinyoung’s mouth feels dry. he thinks about hyunjin, his sweet smile, and how he clings to jinyoung.

“please, be careful,” mark says, reaching forward to engulf jinyoung in a hug. “forget the tea. i’m going home.”

mark leaves, and jinyoung stops the kimchi jjigae from boiling over on the stove. he’s lost all of his appetite, so he packs it all up and keeps it in his fridge, eating the snacks mark had brought sparingly.

jinyoung remembers his first patient death. it had been in nursing school, when he had been doing his rotations and still had not learned how to properly set an IV in a living, breathing human being. a ten year old girl had been wheeled into the surgical department – it had been a typical appendicitis case, and jinyoung’s job was to following around the senior nurse and make sure the kid was comfortable. what they couldn’t have predicted was her body’s weak immune system brought on by chemotherapy as a child. she had a ruptured appendix that devolved into sepsis so quickly that jinyoung still wonders, to this day, if she felt pain. if she had just passed like that, blinking one moment and quietly fading away the next.

it was why he wanted to go into pediatrics. it was why he wanted to work with kids. seeing her pallid face on the cot, the way she had whimpered and then breathed easy under morphine, still sometimes flashes in his memory.

jinyoung tries to think of hyunjin like that, his rosy cheeks wan. he’s seen the death of many, many children. some of them stick. some of them don’t.

he resolutely doesn’t think about mark’s parting words; you feel way too much, jinyoung. he’s wrong. jinyoung feels the perfect amount, he tells himself. he feels just enough.

/

jinyoung isn’t quite sure how to feel when he hears the news from jaebum: that hyunjin needs to stay permanently in their ward, that he’s being moved to a new room where everything has been sterilized and wiped. that his food will be checked all the time, that he’ll only be allowed to see a handful of people that have been checked off.

“it’s called bone marrow aplasia,” jaebum says, pinching the bridge of his nose. his fingers curl over the edge of hyunjin’s case file. “all of his blood cell counts are down. any further down and he’ll be a bubble boy. he’s hypoplastic right now, so we just need to be careful about treating him. the hematologist i conferred with thought the same thing.”

jinyoung pauses from where he’s preparing syringes. “shouldn’t he be switched to the hematology department then?”

jaebum gives him a slow, considering look. then he says, “i didn’t think that was a good idea. hyunjin would be alone there, and we have plenty of kids here that also go through aplastic anemia due to chemo. we’ll know better about how to respond to a situation if he’s kept here rather than with the guys upstairs who are used to adults.”

“right,” jinyoung says. “i imagine they’re not used to tiny vessels.”

jaebum grimaces, a feeling jinyoung shares. “no, and they’re too full of themselves to own up to their mistakes.”

“well, isn’t that every doctor?” jinyoung teases, rolling his eyes when jaebum looks offended. “come off it, you thought you were the greatest piece of shit when you finished your surgery rotation. jinyoung-ah, it was so…life changing. i can’t describe it. just holding that brain in my hands…” jinyoung makes a mock dreamy sigh of how jaebum had been fascinated at his first surgery.

jaebum shoves him. “i held the liver, you dumbass, and you know it.”

“sorry, the brain sounded way cooler. who gets excited about holding a liver?”

they’re crowded in the small backroom where jinyoung has unofficially deemed their backup room. the patient bed doesn’t work, so they never bring anyone here. the cabinets are instead stocked with everything jinyoung needs to keep everything working: emergency medication, shots, syringes, gauze, you name it – it’s stuffed in one of those cabinets in the disarmingly organized way jinyoung keeps all of his things. no one else touches it without his express permission, not even jaebum.

jaebum, who is sitting on the edge of the patient bed now, arms crossed over his chest in such a way that makes his arms strain against the material of his white coat. jinyoung hates this jaebum the most: the jaebum that is so easily professional but scruffy, wearing worn out scrubs and his ‘scope haphazardly worn around his neck, hair looking like he’s run his fingers through them multiple times today. two day old stubble on his chin and cheeks that makes jinyoung want to rub his face against the other's, just to see how the beard burn would feel.

almost immediately, he accidentally sticks himself with a syringe. swearing, thankful that there was nothing in it and he had just been too rough with the packaging, jinyoung throws it aside and glares down at the bead of blood welling up at his fingertip.

“hey, don’t do that,” jaebum chastises, pulling jinyoung’s hand away from where he was going to stick his finger in his mouth. “aren’t you a nurse?”

“it’ll stop bleeding in a minute,” he mumbles.

jaebum tugs at one of his overly large ears, which turn red at the attention. jaebum grabs a bandaid from one of the drawers and an alcohol pad, carefully swiping away the blood and wrapping a bandaid around his wound. jinyoung marvels, always, at how jaebum’s slightly tanned fingers look over his own pale ones, how their palms could match in size but jaebum’s fingers are stubbier, how there are intense calluses in the curve of his hands. and yet, his touches are feather light.

“all better,” jaebum declares, throwing away the paper wrapper. “really, you should know better. you take care of the kids all the time!”

“guess i need hyung to take care of me,” jinyoung says. it’s supposed to be humorous, but the way jaebum looks at him them doesn’t feel like a joke. it feels almost –

but then he looks away, and jinyoung is thrown back to his numerous years of pining, of uncertainty.

“so basically, nothing’s changed,” jaebum quips.

he doesn’t get to answer, because jaebum’s pager goes off for a surgery he has scheduled for today. with a brief goodbye, jaebum leaves jinyoung alone in the room, left to continue putting away syringes as if his finger doesn’t still sting.

he makes it a point to visit hyunjin as soon as he can, right after he’s looked after the other kids under jaebum’s patient list. hyunjin is reading a picture book, looking slightly bored. he yawns every moment or two, and jinyoung smiles at how similar to a small kitten he seems.

“hyunjinnie,” jinyoung says, “good afternoon. how are you today?”

hyunjin turns to look at him, brightening. he closes his book. “nyoung!”

jinyoung spends the next hour with hyunjin, turning the pages of one of the books that they have in reserve. hyunjin had been allowed to keep it. le petit prince, the title says, in curling french script that hyunjin can’t really read, but traces over regardless.

“that’s quite a big book,” jinyoung remarks, but he can’t help but trace his fingers over the edge of the gold lettering on the front. from the inked pages, a flaxen haired boy grins up at him. he remembers this book from numerous, numerous literature classes in college. it’s a wonder of wonders, he thinks, that hyunjin has chosen the one book that jinyoung had donated to the children’s center years ago. “are you sure you’ll be able to read it?”

“yes!” hyunjin insists, even though he probably can’t make out most of his korean letters. jinyoung raises an eyebrow and smiles when hyunjin points to the cover and says in heavily accented french, “la pateet prince!” he’s pointing at the wrong thing, too.

jinyoung stifles a giggle. “le petit prince,” he corrects the pronunciation. “how far did you get in class, huh?” he squeezes hyunjin’s nose to let him know that he means no harm, and hyunjin laughs.

“can you read to me?” he asks shyly, sinking into his pillows even as the query escapes his mouth. “first page?”

“i think it’s your nap time,” jinyoung looks at the clock and notes that this is when hyunjin usually feels the heaviest fatigue, owed mostly to the fact that he’s got nothing carrying his fuel around.

“please,” hyunjin says, puppy eyes wide, and jinyoung startles at how they remind him – they remind him, just briefly, of jaebum.

it must be their eye shape, jinyoung thinks to himself as he settles in the bed with hyunjin delicately, making sure not to rustle it too much. hyunjin clambers into his lap easily, tucking his head into jinyoung’s chest. “wanna see the pictures,” he says, and pats the front of the book.

jinyoung opens it to the first place. lowering his voice so it remains a soothing balm for hyunjin, his fingers smooth over the edges of the well worn, well read, and well loved pages. jinyoung didn’t think he would ever see this book again. “once,” he starts, “when i was six years old, i saw a magnificent picture in a book…”

hyunjin’s breath evens out by the fourth page. he can’t help it, jinyoung knows. he’s a very good listening, following jinyoung’s fingers with his eyes and moving his own hands to copy the other, but he falls asleep with his ear pressed against jinyoung’s heart.

“what a good boy,” jinyoung whispers, running his hands through hyunjin’s hair. he breathes quick and easy, as always, like a baby.

it’s a bit of a relief that no one has caught jinyoung in the last hour and a half he’s been in here. he tucks hyunjin in, makes sure that his IV bag is full, and that everything else is okay. he leaves the book with a folded corner at hyunjin’s bedside.

yugyeom is outside at the front desk, handling a mother who wants to see her son, when jinyoung is back. he meets eyes with jinyoung briefly and the other can see the panic rising in them; yugyeom has never really learned how to deal with demanding, scared parents. jinyoung feels the strange vulnerability that had gripped him in hyunjin’s room shift back inside to leave jinyoung, senior nurse, in place.

“here, ma’am, i can help you,” he assures, gently pushing yugyeom aside to another computer.

when he’s done with her, jinyoung turns around to raise an eyebrow at yugyeom.

“she was so pushy,” yugyeom defends himself, voice high. “i didn’t know what to say!”

“it’s a wonder how you’re a functioning human being.”

yugyeom sticks his tongue out at jinyoung, but slides a mug over of freshly made black tea to him anyway.

it’s a relatively easy and quiet day in their ward. afternoon slips easily into evening. jinyoung watches as some of the other nurses start to sign out for the day for the night shift nurses to take their place. jinyoung won’t be done until he’s seen them change shifts, so he settles in and hums in response when yugyeom and bambam wave goodbye at him from the door. they stand around for a moment, eyes shifty, until jinyoung spots jungkook rushing up to join them a moment later.

“the kids are heading out?” jaebum asks, tearing open one of the lollipops that they keep in a glass jar on the counter. he looks a bit worse for wear (when doesn’t he?) which may be the reason why jinyoung lets the blatant theft go. “yugyeom said that they were heading to a bar tonight.”

“i hope he gets a monster of a hangover,” jinyoung says amiably.

“how mean,” jackson says as he sidles up next to jaebum. when he goes to take a lollipop as well, jinyoung reaches out to smack the back of his palm. “what! you let jaebum hyung have one!”

“are you a child?” jinyoung asks crossly. “why are you whining so much?”

“you’re – “ jackson splutters, “you’re avoiding the question! why can jaebum take one and i can’t? no one is even around! this thing has been here for ages!”

“are you saying that i would feed my children stale candy?”

“yes! no?” jackson huffs, rolling his eyes. “you know what, forget it. you two are gross.”

jaebum raises an eyebrow, offended, “what, exactly, did i do?”

“he’s just insecure, jaebum-hyung,” jinyoung says, clacking away at his keyboard with a vindictive sense of fulfillment. jackson turns around again to splutter at them, the dramatic ass he is, and jinyoung just smiles with his eye crinkles on full force. “don’t worry, jackson, i’m sure youngjae loves working with you.”

jackson points a finger at him, shockingly wordless. betrayed, he goes, “your mouth is too sharp, park jinyoung.”

jaebum can’t help but cackle, throwing his head back and stifling his snickers with the back of his hand. jinyoung’s overly sweet smile turns into something genuine just from watching him. “remember, we want youngjae to work with us, not switch into another department as soon as possible.” jaebum says.

“that means you should probably teach him something once in a while,” jinyoung adds.

“if there’s anything up there, that is.”

“i hate both of you,” jackson announces, throwing mock dirty looks at both jinyoung and jaebum. he reaches forward, quick as a whip, and grabs three lollipops out of jinyoung’s specialized candy jar. bringing up his fencing past, he dances out of reach from jinyoung’s sharp slaps. “screw you both. bye!”

“damn, messing with jackson is just too easy,” jaebum sighs. he’s almost done with the lollipop, having cracked down on it like a heathen instead of like a normal human being. jinyoung places a pack of tissues in front of him wordlessly. “i’ve missed it. he’s been busy with the residents, although i don’t know why. from what i remember, youngjae was the only one who seemed interested enough to shadow more than his designated hours.”

“do you think he’ll make a good addition to the team?”

“maybe,” jaebum says. he leans over the edge of the counter, resting all his weight on his elbows. jinyoung, from where he’s sitting, still has to crane his head up to look at him. jaebum has a piece of hair in front of his forehead that is constantly getting into his eyes, although he doesn’t make a move to fix it. jinyoung reaches forward and fluffs it up a little so that it’ll stop getting in the way. “i think he’s shy, and doesn’t know how to talk to his fellow peers. he’s brilliant, yes, but he has to learn how to work with others if he wants to be successful.”

“put him in a room with yugyeom and bambam,” jinyoung suggests. “they’ll pry him open quick.”

“you mean eat him alive,” jaebum says wryly. “you raised yugyeom to be a little hellion, and bambam is just as bad. either way, having good relationships with the nurses and medical staff is one thing, but he also needs to be able to talk to his cohort. i haven’t really seen much of that. i tried parting some wise advice before he was shipped off to jackson, but i don’t think it really stuck.”

“do you have good relationships with your nurses and medical staff, doctor im?” jinyoung puts a palm underneath his chin, pressing his lips together in a considering smile.

jaebum grins instead, the one that makes his eyes disappear. jinyoung falters, heart skipping a beat. “i think i have a pretty good relationship with my nurse.”

“shut up,” jinyoung says, leaning back in his chair, unwilling to admit that he’s flustered. the redness rising to his ears might be too much of a giveaway.

jaebum leans forward a little more, the expression on his face foreign. jinyoung doesn’t know what to make of it, really, and he likes to think that he’s the master of all of jaebum’s different facial expressions and tics. (he’s unwilling to admit, too, how much of his life he’s spent documenting it all.) it’s a mix between hopeful and intrigued, intense and curious. but whatever jaebum is going to say gets cut off by the sound of his pager.

he clears his throat. “i have about an hour left on shift.”

“great,” jaebum rocks back on his heels. “it looks like they’re ready to move hyunjin now. could you start on moving his stuff? i asked one of the staff to get a wheelchair for him.”

jinyoung’s eyes brighten at the mention of hyunjin. “that’s at night? he’ll be so tired… well, he slept all day anyways. did he get dinner? i’ll put an order for it to be ready.”

busy with his sudden task, he doesn’t notice the way jaebum’s eyes focus on him, warm and wanting. “be finished within the hour, jinyoungie. i’ll take us out for chicken.”

jinyoung holds up an ‘ok’ sign, grabbing his cardigan as he heads to hyunjin’s room.

hyunjin is pleasantly surprised to see jinyoung back in his room, his eyes crinkling up with his wide smile. jinyoung has been careful to only come by to his room once a day, after all, in between all of the other important things that his job entails. hyunjin looks a little bit worse for wear, though, coughing into his sleeve as jinyoung folds his blankets.

immediately, he frets a little; “are you feeling okay, hyunjinnie?”

“yeah!”

“okay…well, if your cough gets worse, just let me know. don’t try to hold it in.”

“okay,” hyunjin hums, but it’s almost absent. jinyoung’s eyes trail down to his tiny wrists, pale enough for jinyoung to see thin veins underneath. he places the blanket that was on his bed over hyunjin’s knees and tries not to think about how he’s bringing hyunjin to a better sanitized, cleaner, isolated room.

/

jaebum is waiting for him at the entrance of the pediatric ward, already changed into a white shirt, jeans, and a comfortable bomber jacket. jinyoung rushes to place his cardigan at the back of his chair to stake his claim (even the night shift nurses know not to sit on it) and checks that all of the shifts to make sure no one is missing.

when he sees that no one is, jinyoung rushes past jaebum – who holds out his bag for him, thank god he’s grabbed it – to change quickly into the sweater and slacks that he had worn to work this morning.

“it’s cold outside,” is the first thing jaebum says when he comes back. “where’s your jacket?”

“the sweater is enough,” jinyoung argues. “it’s like, mid autumn. i’ll be fine.”

“it gets colder at night, jinyoungie.”

“i checked this morning – it’s not going to get any colder. i’ll be fine.”

“you’re going to get sick,” jaebum grumbles, but eventually lets it go. “my car is parked out back, i’ll go get it. wait here.”

jinyoung checks his email while he’s waiting, answers some text messages from his nuisances (read: yugyeom and bambam) and chuckles over a couple of funny photos sent in the group chat between head nurses. the night sets in early with a little bit of a chill, but nothing to get worked up over. jinyoung hums a song that he’s had stuck in his head since morning.

this might be the reason why he doesn’t realize when his namesake, park jinyoung, appears next to him. the elder bops a little to the song jinyoung is lowkey singing under his breath, going, “is that from the 90s? i wouldn’t have expected that of you, junior!”

jinyoung startles, almost dropping his phone. “doctor – director park,” he starts, bewildered. “what are you - ?”

“ah, didn’t we work together? what’s that director crap?” park jinyoung, or jyp as jinyoung has long called him in his head, chuckles. “i hate being called director as much as you hate being called junior.”

“then why do it, sir,” jinyoung deadpans.

“ah, for that look of utter derision, of course. it’s always so amusing,” jyp grins, raising an eyebrow at jinyoung.

he shakes his head, but jinyoung knows that the older is just joking. despite having worked together with him first, jinyoung has never been able to be fully comfortable in his presence. it might be that they share the same name, but jinyoung thinks it also has to do with the fact that they’re just from two different times, two different levels of experience. he’s seen some of the younger nurses that work under jyp – such as bae suji, one of the most no nonsense yet sweet woman he’s ever met – be able to boss him around without thinking about it, but jinyoung had never been able to. not the way that he does with jaebum, at least.

“waiting on a ride?” jyp asks.

“yes, from doctor im.”

“right, right. i recall you two being very close,” jyp says. “he’s taken on one of my cases, i’m sure you know the kid. hwang hyunjin?”

jinyoung’s head snaps around. “you – you’re the one who recommended hyunjin to him?” mister park, hyunjin's small voice rings in his head.

“mhm,” if jyp is surprised by jinyoung’s sudden interest, he doesn’t mention it. “hyunjin’s parents were old patients of mine. both of them got very sick as children, and they had hyunjin young. unfortunately, both of them passed away and left hyunjin in my care, as he didn’t have other close family that wanted to take him. i figured that he would be best kept under someone’s care, which is why i left him to jaebum, even if he doesn’t require much surgery.” the strange, dissonant feeling of not yet, at least, rises in jinyoung. he swallows thickly.

“that’s terrible, to go through that much at such a young age,” jinyoung says quietly.

jyp smiles then, patting jinyoung on the shoulder. “which is why he’s been given the best of the best. hopefully, if he gets better, we can find him a new family.”

if he gets better.

a car pulls up in front of them; jinyoung sees jaebum wave at him before freezing upon seeing his mentor. “ah, director park – “

jyp waves him off, his countenance not as open as it had been with jinyoung. “i’ll talk to you later, jaebum. see you around.” he heads to a different car that’s just pulled up, a sleek black thing fitting of jyp’s status. jinyoung clambers inside next to jaebum, whose hands are clenched tightly around the wheel. they don’t leave until they see jyp’s car move out of sight. jinyoung keeps himself busy so it seems like he’s the one that’s keeping jaebum behind.

“i didn’t know he was going to be there,” jinyoung tells him. “he just … popped up behind me.”

“i believe you,” jaebum says tightly. a beat or two later, his tense shoulders loosen. in a softer voice, he continues, “i believe you, jinyoung.”

jinyoung doesn’t know everything about the relationship between jaebum and his mentor, but he knows enough. he knows that jaebum works himself to death in order to please him, seeks his approval, and wants to do the best – to be the best – so director park can look at him and be proud of who he’s raised professionally. he knows that jyp is hard on jaebum, and that his criticism – and his praise – is what jaebum cherishes most.

“hyung,” jinyoung starts, breaking jaebum and himself out of that strange melancholy mood that rests above them. “let’s go get chicken. we can eat it at your place.”

“ah, well,” jaebum starts the car. “my place isn’t the most… clean right now? can we just do it at yours? or we can eat it at the restaurant.”

“how long has it been since you’ve last been at your place, exactly?”

“jinyoungie,” jaebum groans, smiling even as he pulls away from the hospital.

Chapter Text

it’s strange, now. he’s in charge of giving hyunjin his medication, a cocktail of chemicals that drip steadily from his IV and small white pills in a cup. jinyoung has to change his scrubs to sterile ones, wash his hands until they’re pink and raw, and shower in the specialized washes before he can head inside. this means he’s always cold, always wet – but the smile on hyunjin’s face is so, so worth it.

jinyoung stays for hours at a time when he can. jaebum’s other patients take up a lot of his morning and handling the nurses take up his afternoon. hyunjin is the dwindling hours of the end of his shift, moving from pink skies to indigo clouds. he still sees his friends, still chastises yugyeom and bambam when they do stupid things, still comes in at exactly eight am on the dot with his expensive coffee. still sits in his chair, still handles all of jaebum’s loose ends with effortless experience.

but hyunjin is different. hyunjin is clumsiness, jinyoung laughing too loud, hyunjin is story books and jinyoung is gentle hands on his shoulders. it delves from reading through le petit prince into singing lullabies for him, patting his chest when he’s dry coughing, wiping away the snot and tears from his face.

it’s jinyoung, needles and blood draws, hyunjin squeezing his eyes shut as he looks away.

“it’s over, hyunjinnie,” jinyoung says soothingly, placing the tubes of blood to the side where hyunjin can’t see them anymore. he smooths a bandaid over hyunjin’s vein. presses so it’ll stop bleeding faster, even though it hurts more.

hyunjin whimpers little, but it’s far from the crying that had been their first time. he screams - screams - when someone else other than jinyoung tries to draw blood from him.

“what a good boy,” jinyoung says, smiling.

“it’s over,” hyunjin repeats under his breath, blinking long eyelashes awake. he’s tired, no doubt. he always is, even though jinyoung knows he’s got energy like any other child.

“it’s almost time for dinner, and then bed,” he pulls up the blankets to cover hyunjin’s cold knees. he’s been coughing too much recently. they’re not at the point where he has to breathe with help, but jinyoung worries anyway.

“i’m not hungry,” hyunjin insists stubbornly, something that he’s been doing for the past few days. it’s started when one of the other nurses charged with hyunjin’s care, nayeon, had come to jinyoung with her worries about his plate remaining mostly untouched.

“that’s not a good attitude to have if you want to grow bigger,” says a voice that definitely doesn’t come out of jinyoung’s mouth, but would have been just as good as his own with the way hyunjin pouts. he swivels around to see jaebum standing at the door, already washed down and dressed in nurse’s scrubs. he puts his hands in his pockets. “how are you, hyunjinnie?”

“doctor im,” hyunjin greets almost shyly, but not without excitement. “i’m full! i had cookies!”

“ah, but those are snacks, not real food,” jaebum says. “i’m your doctor, and i say that you need some soup!”

“ew,” hyunjin crinkles his nose adorably, “soup is just flavor water.”

jinyoung chuckles. “soup can be really good! our cooks here make really good soup, you know?”

jaebum preens, looking way too proud of himself as hyunjin looks furrows his brows. jinyoung just wants to pinch his cheeks. after a moment, hyunjin looks up at jinyoung beseechingly, “nyoung make soup too?”

“i – “ jinyoung’s cheeks burn. “i’m not a great cook, hyunjinnie.”

“wanna eat nyoung soup,” hyunjin insists, his tongue tripping over the words as his delayed speech comes into play the more insistent he is. jinyoung pats his thigh. “okay, okay. i’ll try to learn and make it for you one day, okay?” it’s no small promise. jinyoung is half a disaster in the kitchen, unable to do anything but follow simple instructions, make ramen, and heat up take out.

“maybe if you ate here, jinyoung would make you soup,” jaebum suggests. there’s a twinkle in his eye that tells jinyoung he’s enjoying this far too much. “how does that sound, hyunjinnie?”

“great!”

“i thought you were trying to save him, not kill him,” jinyoung murmurs to jaebum heatedly. “what are you telling him?”

“you’re not that bad,” jaebum whispers back in the same tone. “come on, look how happy he is! the kid loves you.”

it’s jarring, to hear it said so plainly. no fanfare, no big revelation. yes, jinyoung loves hyunjin.

“i love nyoung too!” hyunjin says, and jinyoung’s heart starts beating again. he doesn’t realize how long he’s been staring at jaebum, utterly listless, until he hears hyunjin’s voice again.

he shares one look with jaebum, a fleeting glance as he turns to face hyunjin. jaebum reaches out to grasp his wrist, pressing his fingers deep into jinyoung’s pulse to ground him. he knows what he sees in that split second: vulnerability. jinyoung is terrified.

“i love hyunjinnie too,” jinyoung says, and he senses jaebum about to pull away and leave, let them be on their way as they finish up routine. except jinyoung is off kilter, and he pulls jaebum closer by virtue of the other’s grasp. “i can read you one book, hyunjinnie. what would you like to read?”

“kongjwi and patjwi,” he says in slow, meticulous words.

jinyoung removes the book from the small bookshelf they’ve created out of the cart that always remains in hyunjin’s room. he sits down right next to hyunjin’s bedside, leaning over so that the child can see the pictures as well. after a moment, jaebum sits on hyunjin’s opposing side, also leaning over so the both of them can cradle hyunjin between them.

jinyoung begins reading slowly, knowing that they’ll be able to finish the book in time. his voice is low and soothing, the way hyunjin likes it, and in no time, he spots the tell-tale signs of hyunjin getting sleepier; his hands don’t move around the pages as much and jinyoung has to turn them for himself.

what comes as a surprise, though, is the small giggle that breaks his concentration. jinyoung’s voice falters on the stepmother’s words and he turns to hyunjin questioningly, only to be met with the sight of jaebum’s head sinking into the pillow.

it’s highly unprofessional and somewhat surprising, but…jinyoung stares at the shadows underneath jaebum’s eyes, how his shoulders are so tense with an unknown burden. he looks intensely worn down, and jinyoung doesn’t know why. hyunjin squirms. “doctor im’s snore tickles,” he informs jinyoung imploringly.

staring down so close to him, next to jaebum, jinyoung startles a little at how the curve of hyunjin’s eyes are similar to jaebum’s. his gaze flickers back and forth to the both of them, feeling a bit like someone’s hit him over a head. “he’s in a pretty deep sleep,” jinyoung whispers, automatically trying to keep quiet for jaebum after a lifetime of getting into the very habit.

“shh,” hyunjin agrees, like it’s a secret between them.

jinyoung smiles. “well, what do you want to do then, hyunjinnie? it’s supposed to be your bedtime soon, anyway.”

hyunjin is stubbornly kicking sleep away, possibly trying to get the last few minutes he can with jinyoung. he’s more often than not sleeping, so boggled down with the fatigue of an old man that doesn’t fit his six year old self.

“wanna look out the window.”

so jinyoung takes his hand and carefully moves the IV line around jaebum, whose body slumps further into the uncomfortable hospital beds, and helps hyunjin walk over to the large window at the side of his bed. hyunjin craws up to sit in the window’s crawl space, allowing jinyoung to pad it down with some pillows and warm blankets. it’s a window that doesn’t open, but the glass is so clean that jinyoung feels as though he can reach out and touch the seoul skyline.

“pretty,” hyunjin marvels, pressing his nose against the cold glass. jinyoung pulls him away with a quick chastisement. “but there are no stars, nyoung.”

“they’re up there, you just can’t see them.”

“why?”

“they’re hidden by the lights of the city. it’s so bright down here that it drowns out the starlight up there.”

“oh,” hyunjin says slowly. “could we go to the beach? or the forest? then can we see them?”

“yes, we could. if we went somewhere else.”

“oh,” hyunjin takes a moment to consider this and then moves closer to jinyoung, curling into his side. almost immediately, jinyoung presses a hand to the top of his head and makes sure that his IV hasn’t slipped out. hyunjin is much warmer than he expected. “can i go there one day with nyoung?”

a pause.

“maybe,” jinyoung responds. “when you feel better, hyunjin. then we’ll go to the beach and i’ll show you all the stars.”

“what else is up with the stars?”

“up there, you mean?”

“yeah.”

“there’s the sun,” jinyoung draws out a little sun on the window with his finger, and they both watch as the shape appears and disappears. “and then the moon, which we can see right there in the sky. and then the planets. there’s many of them surrounding the sun, and our planet – earth – is one of them.”

hyunjin brightens. “so they all move around the sun?”

“yes,” jinyoung says. “it’s called being in orbit. when they can’t help but move around each other.”

“wow. even when they’re so big? they still move around each other? why can’t we feel it?”

jinyoung giggles, the sound extracted from the childish sweetness that hyunjin exhibits. “even when they’re that big, they still do that. we can’t feel it because we’re so, so tiny – “ punctured by little tickles to hyunjin’s stomach, which makes him laugh, “ – and the solar system is so, so much bigger than us. we’re like ants on the ground. a breeze to us is like a storm to them.”

“i don’t get it,” hyunjin says, frowning. he has a little wrinkle between his brows that jinyoung smooths out with a thumb.

“think of it like this,” he starts, “there are a lot of things out there bigger than us, that don’t need our help. the sun comes up, goes down, and then the moon comes up again. it’ll do that every day and night, right?” hyunjin nods. “and all we do is watch it happen. sometimes things just happen, and you and i are just little ants on the ground, watching it happen. and we can be happy or sad, but the sun will still come up, go down, and then the moon comes up again.”

hyunjin huffs. “well if nyoung is sad, then – then i’ll make the sun stay up or go back so the day can start over and nyoung can do it again!”

jinyoung laughs, giving into the love, the affection. he rubs his cheek against hyunjin’s. “well, thank you. i don’t think you can, but if anyone can do it,” he yawns, “you can, hyunjinnie.”

“i’ll write a letter,” hyunjin continues, the plans sprouting behind his eyes. “an’ i’ll send it to the sun every day, an’ i’ll tell him – “

“or her.”

“ – or her that we don’t make nyoung sad!”

“i’ll tell them every day to make hyunjin happy,” jinyoung says, the words bursting out of him like a dam, reaching forward so he can squeeze hyunjin in his arms. the boy obviously doesn’t mind, giggling. “i’ll ask them to brighten up the day so hyunjin can see, and to make it warm so hyunjin isn’t cold.”

“gotta listen to both of us!” hyunjin says solemnly, as if either he or jinyoung has that much power. slowly, clumsily, hyunjin reaches up and presses a kiss to the edge of jinyoung’s jaw, as if aiming for his cheek but was too small to reach it. he yawns in turn, a delayed response to jinyoung earlier. “i like the sun. moon makes us sleepy.”

“that’s because it’s night time, when little boys like you should be asleep.”

“doctor im is asleep too,” hyunjin mumbles. he’s been talking so much, recently, even with his slight delay. jinyoung loves that he’s beginning to feel more comfortable. somewhere, in the back of his mind, jyp’s words whisper find him a new family.

“doctor im is secretly a child, like you,” jinyoung whispers mischievously. hyunjin gives an aborted giggle. it really is way past time for him to fall asleep, even though it would be much too early for other people. gently, jinyoung coaxes, “come on now, hyunjin. what can i do to help you go to sleep?”

hyunjin doesn’t respond for a while, just simply breathes. he’s all curled up in jinyoung’s arms, the both of them sinking into the steadily warming comfort of the window. seoul blinks her pretty lights at them, yet it’s still dark enough for jinyoung to see endless shadows. he rests his chin on top of hyunjin’s head. he smells like baby shampoo.

“can you sing a lullaby?” hyunjin asks, a little timid. “the nice auntie at the old house sang songs for sleep.”

at his orphanage, jinyoung realizes. where he must have been for an indefinite amount of time. “of course,” jinyoung says. his brain scrambles to come up with a slow ballad, because he doesn’t know many children’s lullabies, but it seems to work. it takes two repetitions of the song, but hyunjin falls asleep under jinyoung’s soft voice and rhythmic rubbing of his back. it’s so soothing, the motion repetitive and quaint, that jinyoung barely notices when he falls asleep too.

/

jinyoung wakes up briefly, when he feels weightless. there are warm hands underneath his knees and his back. he smells someone familiar, like cologne but a hint of soap clean skin. jinyoung buries his nose against it.

“you haven’t changed at all, jinyoungie,” says the owner of the voice. jinyoung knows him, too. the answer – and the name – resides in the corner of his memory, but he’s too tired to dig it up. he just knows that this is someone he’s known his entire life, so familiar that the essence of him is forever imprinted in jinyoung’s person.

when jinyoung is jostled a little too roughly, something brushing against his ankle, he groans. everything stops for a moment. he tries to open his eyes, but his lids are so, so heavy.

“sorry,” the voice whispers. warm, dry lips press against his forehead. jinyoung thinks this feels more like a fever dream, like the dreams where you’re standing on the edge of a cliff and then falling. “go back to sleep, jinyoungie.”

/

“and then she fell into the well,” jackson sniffles, pulling apart his lobster tail with chopsticks instead of his hands. “and forgot everything about him. everything from her past life, she forgot, just like that!”

mark hums, somewhat into the conversation, somewhat not.

jinyoung, knowing exactly what jackson is talking about, feels a little insulted on behalf of the main heroine’s choices. “well, can you blame her? she had been tortured in the heavenly palace for being mortal and bearing his son, and then she loses her eyes?”

jaebum sighs and puts a piece of grilled scallop of jinyoung’s plate, although he doesn’t even bothering trying to get him to eat it.

“i’m not saying it was undeserved, but - ! but she was a goddess anyways, and they would have returned her divinity to her after the mortal trial, and she just left her son– “

jinyoung’s breath hitches. “the whole point of that arc was so she would fall in the well and then pass the mortal trial. that was the whole point!”

jackson, with surprisingly wet eyes, glares at him. jinyoung glares back.

“and then the prince just acts like that – “

“he just lost his wife!”

“and she lost her son!”

“i don’t know what side they’re arguing for anymore,” jaebum tells mark.

they’re at a seafood buffet to change up their sporadic dinners together. jinyoung feels warmth all along his side as jaebum shuffles in closer than necessary, but he’s the one sitting closest to the window and probably feels the worsening cold draft. mark is still in his scarf, after all. jackson had brought up his morose mood, which is largely due to finishing eternal love after a ten hour binge for the last few episodes. jinyoung, the avid drama fan, had jumped on the topic after remembering his own vices on the show (alongside the other nights he had spent just. crying. on his sofa).

jackson drops the glare after a moment, fundamentally unable to stand being jokingly upset at jinyoung, and then leans forward. “have you seen – “ he blathers off into the title of a chinese drama, the syllables spilling from his mouth easily.

“when in the world would i have a chance to see that? is it on kbs?” jinyoung demands, as if he knows what jackson is talking about. “write it down on a piece of paper and show me subs, you coward.”

“it has english subs,” jackson says challengingly.

“my english is better than yours,” jinyoung sniffs. “historical dramas? murder dramas? mystery dramas? 70 episode long dramas? bring it on.”

“okay,” jaebum starts, this time shoving a mouthful of crab kimbap into jinyoung’s mouth. “at least eat if you two are going to argue like two middle aged ladies.”

“dramas are for everyone,” jackson says, and jinyoung is suddenly on his side again, nodding.

“i watched yanxi palace,” jinyoung admits, leaning forward as if sharing a secret with jackson. “it was good. better than the historical dramas here, honestly.”

“i told you!”

jinyoung hisses. “but the other genre types? absolute garbage. korean dramas are still superior.”

“i think they put out another plate of lobster,” mark says, pushing jackson’s shoulder insistently in a blatant attempt to make him leave the table. when jackson takes it, mark cracks a smile. “jinyoung-ah, you need to stop baiting him.”

“we’re having a perfectly civil conversation.”

“i’m pretty sure i saw your hand holding that knife a little too tightly,” jaebum, the traitor, says.

“civil,” jinyoung starts, “doesn’t mean correct.”

“okay, change of conversation,” mark taps the table with the side of his hand as if he’s slicing it in half, effectively ending the conversation. “if you can make peacemaker jackson want to throw you off a roof – over a drama, no less – i’m calling it a forbidden topic of conversation.”

jinyoung grumbles, although he’s also starting to laugh at how ridiculous they are. “but who else am i going to talk about my dramas with?”

mark’s eyes flicker to jaebum. jinyoung turns to face him at the same time, and both of them stare, unimpressed, as jaebum stops in the middle of shoving a particularly large shrimp in his mouth. “can you at least chew,” jinyoung grits out, reaching over to close his jaw so that he’d actually bite. jaebum has an intensely large mouth, capable of fitting entire cookies and sometimes all of the kimbap his mom makes for him.

whatever the other is about to say is drowned out by the sound of mark snorting. he’s a little tipsy on beer, even though the rest of them decided not to drink due to early shifts. “listen to your better half, jaebum-ah,” he says, wagging a finger.

jinyoung doesn’t deem this with a response. he thinks that some of his food must be too spicy, because he feels his ears heat up. he’s heard this incessantly from countless people – teasing, lightly, about him and jaebum and how comfortable they are with each other, and he should be used to it by now. key word: should be.

“this reminds me,” jinyoung says as soon as jackson sits down, his face brightened by the prospect of more seafood, “i signed up for a cooking class this saturday. the first class had a buy one get one free, so jaebum-hyung, you’re coming with me.”

jaebum chokes. he may say something like, “me?” but jinyoung thinks all he hears is crumbs. with a grimace, he shoves a tissue at jaebum.

“wow,” jackson stares at them. “what did i miss? did i break jinyoung’s brain?”

“i think,” mark starts contemplatively despite aiming his chopsticks incorrectly and picking up nothing but spare pieces of lettuce, “that jinyoung-ah is making a difference in his life.” with that wise set of words, he nods his head – pleased – and focuses on his food again.

jaebum pats his chest to stop coughing. “sorry, run that by me again? why – why am i going to a cooking class?”

without missing a beat, jackson goes, “cause your better half said so, duh.”

jinyoung ignores both of them. he hates all his friends.

“hyung,” jinyoung starts plaintively, “you suck ass at cooking.”

jaebum looks betrayed. “i taught you how to make kimchi jjigae!”

“and that’s all you know how to make. it’s sadder that you know two dishes and how to make rice; at least i’m a clean slate, but you’re just lazy.”

jaebum splutters, but what’s done is done. jinyoung pats him on the shoulder. “be at my place by 10am and bring your car, please. i don’t want to pay for the bus.”

/

jinyoung reads a book while he’s waiting for jaebum at his apartment. he’s a bit too nervous, and it shows in the way he’s combed his hair (sweetly, to the side, with a touch of orange scented pomade), the clothes he’s wearing (maybe a little stiff? he wore comfortable wide legged slacks before cursing at himself and changing into a pair of jeans to match a v-neck white and red striped shirt), and the way his knee is vibrating. he can barely focus on the words of his book.

the thought of him going out and trying something new is a little out there. it’s not like jinyoung doesn’t try new things once in a while – whenever bambam brings over thai snacks, he’s always the first one to try them out. when someone gives him something new to do, he’s always ready to give it a chance. but to seek out something new of his own volition? well, that’s a skill he’s admittedly a bit rusty in.

but it’s not like he’s going out clubbing, or whatever. he hasn’t done that in ages, and he thinks that the initial interest in it that he had in his early twenties has long faded and sizzled into an appreciation for quieter, simpler hobbies that make him happy none-the-less. (sometimes, he still thinks about dancing, about moving his body sinuous and slow, about stretching his limbs until they’re ready to tear.)

jinyoung stares down at the front cover of his book, tracing a finger on the title, remembering hyunjin and the way he had done the same thing with le petit prince. jinyoung lives alone, in relative comfortability, because he was able to finish his dual degree in literature and health sciences without student debt. his scholarship had coasted him through it all. for that, he’s grateful, thinking of all the days he had paid for jaebum’s meal, all the nights he had lent the other half of his bed in his tiny studio room to jaebum so he could escape his dorm curfew and work on his assignments.

then, he thinks about the cooking class. a little annoyed, jinyoung sends out a text to jaebum at a quarter to 10. where are you???

you said at 10am ): i have time

just get your ass here please i hate being late, jinyoung texts back. he throws his book aside, watching it bounce off the couch to fall to the floor. he steps over it and does another check, patting his pockets for his wallet, keys, and phone.

he’s more nervous to see jaebum, to face the inevitable onslaught of questions that he knows jaebum will have.

he grabs his long gray overcoat and a pale beige scarf. after a moment of thought, he grabs another dark gray scarf as well, balling it up in his hands.

jaebum is blinking awake sleepily, just as jinyoung knew he would be. he has a cup of coffee in his hands. his ring makes soft tap tap noises as he drums his fingers against the side of it. other than his own long coat and an admittedly soft looking sweater, jaebum’s got nothing else to keep him warm except for his car. jinyoung picks up the second coffee cup resting in the cup holder between them.

“earl gray milk tea,” jaebum says, sighing and taking another sip of his coffee. he sets the cup down where jinyoung’s had been, shifting the car into drive. “can you put the place into the gps?”

“wait,” jinyoung swats his hands and puts them in park, reaching over to wrap the gray scarf around jaebum’s neck. “why do you always forget? i can’t spend any more money buying these, im jaebum.”

“scarves are for losers,” jaebum mumbles, barely reacting when jinyoung smacks the back of his head. “seriously, gps, please.”

jinyoung does as he asks, also plugging in his aux cord and putting up a soft pop rock song for them to listen to. he settles back in his seat, butt warm, glad that the constant thrum of anxiety is starting to slowly lessen the more jaebum is quiet. he shouldn’t have been too worried now – jaebum is quiet in the mornings when he doesn’t need his brain to be on all the time.

instead, jinyoung takes this moment to relax and sip at his tea, which is on the right side of just hot and milky. he almost wishes he had some boba to add with it. he wonders if you can make boba.

“can you make boba?”

“i’m sure you can,” jaebum answers, “but i also think i’d rather just buy it.”

jinyoung thinks on this. “you can also buy the ones that you soak, right? i imagine that’s a lot easier, and tea is just tea. maybe i’ll invest.”

“ask the teacher when we get to this class,” jaebum suggests, turning to look at him with a devastatingly handsome raised eyebrow. jinyoung stares at it, marveling quietly at how sharp jaebum’s side profile is. “jinyoungie?”

“i need to learn how to make real food, not boba tea,” jinyoung says abruptly to cover up his staring. he’s so used to it at this point that it doesn’t even embarrass him anymore. he knows that sometimes he gets – swept up, one could say, by jaebum. “like stew. or korean pancakes. noodles. soup.”

jaebum hums. after a moment, he asks as easy as you please, “so what’s with the sudden interest in cooking?”

it’s a lot smoother than jinyoung had been expecting, he’ll give jaebum that. he knew that the question had been coming, he was just unsure of where and when it would be. if it would take him aback or not. but this is jaebum, jinyoung tells himself, and he shouldn’t have worried at all, because jaebum would never make him uncomfortable on purpose.

“i just think it’s about time i learned,” jinyoung says, shifting. “can’t survive on take out and eomoni’s food forever, right? it would be nice to learn in case i wanted to cook for someone else, too.”

he might be imagining it, but jaebum’s fingers tighten over the wheel as he makes a turn. “for someone else?”

“yeah,” jinyoung’s voice is suddenly small. he can’t help himself; the sudden change makes jaebum turn to look at him in surprise. “like, um. like hyunjin.”

they hit a red light. jaebum is staring at him in surprise, mouth slightly open. “hyun – hyunjin?”

jinyoung’s face is burning now, he’s sure of it. he’s in his late twenties and here he is, trying to learn how to cook just because – just because – “this is your fault anyways,” jinyoung hisses, “if you didn’t tell hyunjin that i would make him soup if he ate properly, we wouldn’t be here!”

something in jaebum’s countenance eases, like a tension had been building in his shoulders that suddenly loosen considerably. he laughs, the husky, full laughter that always chills jinyoung down to his bones. “for – you’re learning how to cook for hyunjin? aw, jinyoungie, don’t look like that, that’s adorable.” the smile remains on his face even as he slides into the parking lot of the studio they’re supposed to be in. “i’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

“it wasn’t just for him,” jinyoung says, but it sounds weak at this point. he had been mulling on the idea on and off, but hyunjin had been the final push he needed to sign up. “shut up.”

“and i’m glad you chose me to be your moral support.”

“i didn’t,” even though jinyoung completely had, “shut up.”

their teacher for the day, a good looking man with numerous ear piercings named taeyong, greets them cheerfully as jinyoung grasps jaebum’s sleeve with a death grip and manhandles him through the door. jaebum is still grumbling and finishing up his coffee, unable to drink while driving, and jinyoung has long finished his own cup.

taeyong makes them all introduce themselves to their partners, a step that jinyoung primly avoids no matter how much jaebum turns to him and seriously starts to introduce himself (“my name is im jaebum, i’m twenty-nine, i’m currently a pediatric surgeon – “ “hyung, i’m going to shove you down a flight of stairs.”)

“great! we’re all going to start out slowly, and finish a couple of meals today. i want you guys to get right into it, since most of you are already aware of the basics and this is a sort of intermediate level course.” jinyoung didn’t need help discerning which knife was what, thanks. he just needed recipes. basic knowledge on how to put food together in a way that didn’t make him want to throw up. “as a surprise, we’re also going to be making kimchi, as that’s a pretty big staple. i have the ingredients here and a list of ingredients for my favorite kimchi recipe, which i’ll show you, but feel free to play around with the taste. now, take your onion…”

jinyoung likes this class. taeyong is straight to the point and no nonsense, but clear enough that jinyoung can use his abilities of following directions easily. jinyoung isn’t good at putting together recipes out of nowhere. he needs guidelines. measurements.

jaebum pushes up his sleeves, the silver charm bracelet jinyoung had gotten him for his eighteenth birthday jangling against his wrist bone. “okay,” jaebum says, looking down balefully at their ingredients. “what do i do?”

even though jinyoung’s dragged him here, he tries his best, which is something jinyoung loves about him. he indulges in jinyoung’s whims even though it’s obvious he’s flailing. jaebum isn’t good at following directions as well as jinyoung is, so used to making things up on the fly. he’s like jinyoung’s perfect opposite.

“see, now it tastes good,” jaebum sighs, dipping his finger in the marinade that will be used for the kimchi. “nice and spicy.”

“i hope you don’t mind a little bit of staining,” jinyoung says, slapping his plastic gloves on the counter. “cause that’s not going to come out for days.”

“ah, shit.”

“it looks like you guys are doing well,” the voice of their instructor distracts them from their own little world. jinyoung dutifully shows him their mix. they’ve got the napa cabbage ready to stuff, and a huge plastic container to take the kimchi home in. his money really didn’t go to waste. “once you’re done, we can move onto making mapo tofu and some bases commonly used in most stews.”

“sounds good,” jaebum says, washing his hands and wincing as he starts to feel the chili oil burn. the idiot’s love for spicy food is backfiring on him. jinyoung ignores him and turns to taeyong, asking, “in any of the future classes…will we be learning how to make soup? like gamja ongsimi or galbitang?”

taeyong smiles warmly at him, which completely rids him of his previously distant and slightly cold façade. must be a resting face, jinyoung thinks as he blinks. “yes, of course. one the of the soup bases i’ll be showing you guys today is good for almost all fish soups, and one of the future lessons involves how to make galbitang.”

“which lesson in the future?”

“the fourth,” taeyong pauses, looking between jinyoung and jaebum, who is sneaking pieces of cabbage in his mouth. “but i can try to push it up a little further for an interested student. making food is always better when it’s someone important you’re making it for.”

“yeah,” jinyoung smiles a small, private smile, thinking about how happy hyunjin would be to have something hearty and homemade. that’s the whole reason he’s doing this, anyway.

taeyong laughs quietly. “you and your husband are cute,” he smiles one more time, meeting jinyoung’s wide, blinking eyes. “if you need any help, let me know. i think you guys have got this well-handled.”

by the time jinyoung’s brain is online enough for him to stutter out, “oh, we’re not – we’re not married – “ taeyong is long gone, and jaebum has already started working on the kimchi.

jinyoung wants to yell, why didn’t you say anything and left me there to flail?! but that would be calling attention to it if jaebum hadn’t heard. instead, jaebum looks up at jinyoung and says, “it still doesn’t taste right, the kimchi.”

he resists the urge to laugh and cry simultaneously. “it’s not the one your mom makes, hyung. of course it’s not going to taste right.”

jaebum takes this into account, but he still looks unhappy about it. most of their day is spent like that, bickering low under their breath but working like a well oiled machine. they can understand each other without words at work, but the ability translates over to every other part of their lives, too. jinyoung doesn’t remember a time where he hasn’t found himself on jaebum’s wavelength.

when it’s almost evening, that sweet spot of twilight, jaebum carries two of their huge bags (complimentary from the class itself, too) to the car, jinyoung following behind him with the kimchi container and a pot of stew that he’s excited to try out (it had turned out to be the most delicious thing they had made).

“you’re never going to be able to get here and back with the bus,” jaebum sighs as they settled in the front seats of his car. he peers at jinyoung. “let me know when your next class starts and ends, i’ll pick you up.”

“you just want to eat whatever’s left over,” jinyoung says.

“yeah, but i’m offering my baby,” he pats his steering wheel, “and the added bonus of my presence. c’mon, jinyoungie.”

despite himself, jinyoung softens. “alright, i’ll text you.” he fiddles with his phone as he sends off the schedule for the next few classes as well as the address, and after a moment, opens up a chat with jaebum’s mom before he can think too deeply about it. eomoni, he starts, this may be really sudden, but…what’s your kimchi recipe?

then he shuts his phone and abruptly places it face down on his lap. jaebum doesn’t even blink, bopping his head along to a bubblegum pop song on the radio and singing quite loudly. jinyoung is glad that the ping of his phone answering – because jaebum’s mom loves him, and will answer him before her own actual flesh and blood son – is covered by the sounds of cheer up baby, cheer up baby!

she’s texted him an entire list, down to the amounts and how long she leaves it to ferment. jinyoung goes through it all with growing awe and respect for such a formidable woman. he gets to her most recent message, however, where she says very sweetly, if you need help making it for my son, feel free to call me! i’m sure he’ll love it anyway, jinyoung-ah. complete with a heart.

jinyoung’s ears flush red.

“you okay, jinyoung?”

“fine,” he grunts, shoving his phone in his back pocket. “let’s just go home, the food is going to get cold and then all of that would have been for nothing. can’t you drive faster? also pay attention to the traffic light!” he adds on breathlessly as jaebum makes a slightly risky curve. jaebum just laughs.

/

“ooh, hyung, is that for us?” bambam says as jinyoung sets down a white plastic bag with a tin of soup. it’s warmed his hands considerably. jinyoung looks around, pleased with the autumn decorations they had put up in time for the end of november, having taken their sweet time getting rid of the halloween decorations that the kids loved oh so much. bambam comes poking around with curious fingers, his hair a pretty shade of peroxide blond now.

jinyoung slaps his fingers away. “is it not enough that you steal my candy, you have to steal my food now too?”

“who made that for you, hyung?” yugyeom asks in a sing-songy tune.

“i’ll have you know i made it myself,” he says coolly, taking a sip of his latte and sighing as it wakes him up immediately. it’s nice and warm, too, melting down his fingers as he’d forgotten his gloves that morning on the way to the subway.

“and it’s not poisoned?” bambam asks reproachfully. he pokes at the metal tins now as if it’ll blow up on him. “sounds like a lie, but alright.”

“i can cook,” jinyoung grumbles, pushing bambam back with a pointed finger to the head so he’ll sit on his seat. “have you logged in yet? how many of your patients have you seen?”

“all the babies are accounted for and have gotten food,” bambam straightens and says in his best militant tone. yugyeom giggles behind him, the little shit. “although there was no applesauce this morning and we had a bit of a mutiny. but gyeommie solved it real quick, so we should be okay. i ordered more, hope you don’t mind.”

“good job,” jinyoung hums. he eyes yugyeom, who is coming closer and closer with every passing second. “okay, what do you want?”

“can i try some?” yugyeom says, hunching a little so he’s eye level with jinyoung. with a level of cuteness that jinyoung didn’t know was possible for him, yugyeom pouts, “can i try some hyung pleaseeeeeeee?”

jinyoung can’t help but laugh incredulously, smacking him on the head but also coughing because how fucking adorable. yugyeom used to do that all the time when he had just started out under jinyoung. in fact, bambam used to be cuter a couple years back, too. they don’t do this crap anymore. “wow, what is this aegyo, huh?”

“gyeom, that’s not fair!” bambam hisses. “you can’t just act cute to get what you want!”

under his breath, yugyeom mutters, “get on my level, bitch.”

before jinyoung can hypocritically tell him off for cursing at the workplace, yugyeom continues, “yes i can! besides, it’s not like we don’t all do it. you do it to jackson-hyung, and jinyoungie does it to jaebum-hyung!”

“jinyoung-hyung,” he corrects automatically. “if you wanted to try some of my soup, you’re really not doing yourself any favors.”

yugyeom scoffs. “very interesting how you didn’t deny the thing with jaebum-hyung, though. very suspicious – “

“morning, my favorite colleagues,” jackson lays his body over the edge of the counter that separates the morning nurses and their computers from prying patient eyes. he’s in a pair of oddly colored scrubs (what kind of department uses neon yellow?) with patterned ducks all over them. his hair is a mess, he looks like he hasn’t shaved in three days, and there’s a smudge of pizza sauce on his chin. at least jinyoung hopes that’s pizza sauce. he’s got a look in his eye that speaks of a long, long shift that he’s just barely survived.

“i need to sign off soon and get some goddamn sleep,” jackson sighs. “i had to go and do something for namjoon, so – “

“no one asked,” bambam interrupts, and makes a face when jackson glares at him. it’s cute enough that jackson lets it go completely. jinyoung is faced with yugyeom’s smug, knowing look, which says something along the lines of yeah you’re that easy with jaebum, too. he can hear it in the informal language and everything.

“ – so i am starving and possibly the most sleep deprived i’ve been since like, my fourth year of medical school,” jackson finishes blithely. “i just dropped by to say hi. and that we need more saline.”

“i ordered saline last week,” jinyoung says. “they should be in the backup storage.”

“just checked, they weren’t there. jaebum told me to tell you about it, although it’s probably the shitty delivery service again.”

“they keep getting the blood bags wrong, too,” yugyeom pipes up, frowning. “i’ve had to go to the department over to get shipments meant for us. it’s really not good, hyung. also, how could you mess something like that up?”

jinyoung is well aware of the abysmal system of delivery that goes in in the hospital. he groans, thinking about all the shit he’ll have to go through and the people he’ll have to use his best disappointed parent voice in order to get that all settled out. even if he does, it tends to reset back to the original shitty service, leaving the rest of them chasing after their proper orders.

“i’ll take care of it,” he waves away yugyeom’s wandering hands grouchily. “stop it, you child, it’s not for you.”

“who is it for, then?” yugyeom whines.

“morning,” doctor im jaebum himself drops by, looking as fresh as a raindrop. a very rare look for him, admittedly. jinyoung knows this is because he’s moved his shifts to jackson long enough to get some decent sleep and spend time with his cats. (jinyoung’s gotten at least fourteen photos of nora in the last few hours alone.) jaebum takes one of the lollipops as usual, unwrapping it and sticking it straight in his mouth.

“why are all my coworkers children,” jinyoung wonders out loud, looking down at his now empty latte cup sadly. if only he had gotten a bigger size to deal with this bullshit. “really, why? should i just switch to taeyeon’s department? to seokjin’s department, with all his hellions?”

“i think i’m a pretty well-adjusted kid,” jaebum says. jinyoung cocks an eyebrow, sighing as jackson also steals a lollipop. he fist bumps to himself and jinyoung doesn’t stop him this time. honestly, jackson looks like he needs the sugar boost.

when jaebum’s eyes catch onto the metal tins that jinyoung’s got resting on the counter, away from yugyeom’s insistent hands but way too close to bambam now for jinyoung’s comfort, he brightens. “oh, is that the galbitang you made on saturday? the top one is mine, right?”

jaebum hadn’t been able to pick jinyoung up from his most recent cooking class, which had left jinyoung taking a taxi home with all of his new foodstuffs. he still has the batch of kimchi he made on the first day, but he hasn’t been spending as much money on take out since he’s started to clumsily implement cooking into his life (and the subsequent burns, messes, spills, and disgusting sugar-salt switches that has followed). he’s been able to buy himself a bunch of new books as a good job getting this far park jinyoung gift.

“there’s also rice in the top one,” jinyoung says as confirmation. “it’s leftovers…” since you hadn’t picked me up, is what he doesn’t say, but jaebum ignores it and grins. he looks like a child that’s been given a present, although jinyoung can’t wrap his head around jaebum’s happiness at receiving food he made that’s honestly not even all that good. he’s tasted some of taeyong’s dishes, and jinyoung is pretty sure his own doesn’t taste anything like that. it only makes him more determined to wrangle this skill into his belt of adulthood.

“nah, i’m sick of the cafeteria food,” jaebum unlocks the metal contraption keeping everything together and takes his share. “thank you for the food,” he salutes loosely. “oh, do you know about the saline – “

“i’ll take care of it.”

jaebum makes a noise of utter awe, which jinyoung accepts as his rightfully glowing praise. jaebum and jackson's pager goes off at the same time; jaebum answers it immediately, but when jinyoung turns to jackson, he sees the other staring at them with his eyebrows at his hairline.

“what?” jinyoung asks, immediately defensive.

“nothing,” jackson says immediately, too fast for it to be natural. he looks at yugyeom and bambam quickly, who are also staring at jinyoung with wide eyes. “gotta go grab this, uh, bye!”

“when did this happen?” bambam starts, jumping up in his seat so that he’s closer to jinyoung as soon as the doctors leave, like they’re sharing secrets. “oh my god, finally. it’s finally happening– “

“jj cross,” yugyeom whispers, starstruck, meeting bambam’s eyes. “bam, my parents are finally getting together!”

jinyoung smacks the both of them. “get back to work,” he grits out.

bambam grins. “aw, hyung. your entire face is red.”

“cute,” yugyeom coos, pinching his cheeks. jinyoung gives them looks of intense, intense murder, which sends the both of them scrambling.

/

hyunjin has caught a bad case of pneumonia the last jinyoung had checked on him. the sickness had taken him hard and fast, leaving the poor boy to be coughing up half a lung in the span of a couple of hours. for other people, it would have taken them a couple of days at the very least. hyunjin has been getting consistent blood transfusions to help him get along, shots of numerous kinds to help him clot, and a couple of other medications to try and contain his disorder.

but seeing him down with something of an intense cold hits jinyoung in all the places that ache.

regardless, he smiles as he enters hyunjin’s room. he waves away the nurse that’s assigned to him for today, brightening when hyunjin looks up from where he’s building an impressive tower out of legos to give jinyoung a large hug that he reciprocates immediately.

“have you been drinking your tea well?” is the first thing jinyoung asks, referring to the medicinal tea he had brought made specially for little kids to help them with their sicknesses. hyunjin nods, even though he’s hesitant at first. jinyoung can’t help but laugh at him. “it’s bitter, isn’t it?”

“i add honey,” hyunjin says shyly, tugging at the edge of jinyoung’s scrubs to get him to sit down. jinyoung follows dutifully, already happy with how hyunjin’s voice is better from the crackling, weak thing it had been just recently. “nyoung want to build?”

“i’ll help you in a minute, hyunjinnie. but are you hungry?”

hyunjin is sharper than he lets on, jinyoung knows. his appetite is always a little low for a kid his age, but before he can give his typical negative answer, he spots the big bag that jinyoung is hiding poorly behind his back. the child’s eyes brighten. “very hungry!”

“i made soup because hyunjin was such a good boy,” jinyoung waves his admittedly mediocre pot of soup in front of hyunjin excitedly, his mood rubbing off on jinyoung easily. “just like i said i would!”

“soup!” hyunjin jumps up and down, as if it’s the best thing in the world. “for jinnie!”

jinyoung waves him down, laughing, and starts to settle out the washed bowls, chopsticks, and spoons. he’s also brought a thermos of barley tea to help with hyunjin’s throat, something that can be kept in the room since he had made it himself. he’s here for hyunjin until the end of the day. despite his shift usually ending around 6, jinyoung finds himself working overtime much, much more often nowadays. he has a large rappore with the night shift nurses now.

“wash your hands,” jinyoung instructs. “and if you want to eat, make sure you set your place at the table.” hyunjin nods and rushes to do just that. his room at the hospital, while more sterile and controlled than the other rooms, is also large enough to count as a small studio room. there’s a bathroom alongside a small play area for hyunjin. a table and chair pushed to one side. it doesn’t change the rest of the room; the chemical sink, the cabinets full of medication, the beeping of the heart monitor.

jinyoung sets his own place at the table, but then hyunjin sets a place for two. jinyoung makes a questioning noise.

“for doctor im,” hyunjin says, blinking widely at him. “he gonna eat too, right?”

“oh,” so taken aback, jinyoung is unsure of how to answer for a moment or two. “yes, it is dinner time, but – hyunjinnie, i don’t know if doctor im is busy now or not. he’s got a lot of other little boys and girls to look after, you know…”

and just as jinyoung is finishing up his words, who else but jaebum walks through the door to hyunjin’s room?

“i’m here for dinner,” jaebum says solemnly.

“you – “ jinyoung is speechless. “i didn’t – i made only enough for hyunjin – “

“aw,” hyunjin starts, bottom lip out in a pout, looking at jinyoung with doleful eyes. he scurries up to jinyoung easily, pressing against his side as if sorry, as if this whole thing had been his fault. “doctor im can have some of mine…?”

“no need,” jaebum shakes an identical container up; the one jinyoung had given him this morning. “i made sure to save my appetite.”

“ah,” jinyoung, motionless, doesn't answer much more than that. he’s still speechless.

insistently, jaebum sets himself down cross legged on the floor of hyunjin’s play mat, groaning like an old man. “i also bought some drinks for us all, since hyunjin is starting to get a lot better.”

“i made tea,” jinyoung says defensively, holding up his thermos. “he should have some tea.”

“tea, then the drinks i brought,” jaebum says decisively. hyunjin cheers at the amount of spoiling he’s getting, and the sweet, bright happiness on his face after so many days of misery is what defeats jinyoung in the end.

“we can’t sit on the floor! everything is set for the table – “

“aw, come on. the chairs here are always cold, and we can eat comfortably on the floor. hyunjin can squirm around, can’t he?” jaebum pokes his fingers against hyunjin’s side, who stifles laughs. “it’ll be easier to deal with the soup too. come on, jinyoungie,” he pats the area next to him on the mat, giving jinyoung a raised eyebrow.

hyunjin is staring at him expectantly too, so jinyoung can’t say no. he shoots jaebum a dirty look when hyunjin starts moving their utensils over, though. he settles down next to jaebum quickly, since hyunjin looks so comfortable with all his pillows and toys on the other side. all from jyp, no doubt.

“we can’t always do this,” jinyoung whispers to him, pinching jaebum’s thigh to show how displeased he is.

jaebum tucks hair behind his ear and scratches him there like he’s one of jaebum’s pet cats. jinyoung wants to pinch him again. “next time, we’ll be at the table,” he promises lowly.

before jinyoung can even think of the idea of next time, next time, next time, hyunjin is holding out his bowl excitedly. they share the rice that jinyoung has brought (painstakingly made in the morning, since his rice cooker is a piece of shit) and jinyoung makes sure to give hyunjin the best pieces of meat. jaebum already has his small container which he eats from instead, since jinyoung didn’t account for one more person in their shared meal.

“how is it, hyunjin?” he asks, a little anxious.

hyunjin slurps up more soup from his bowl and holds up two thumbs up, his chopsticks dangling awkwardly. “weally good!”

“really,” jinyoung half-corrects, half asks. hyunjin has been getting better with his korean pronunciation in the months that he’s been here, but he still slips when he’s excited.

“really good,” jaebum adds, nudging shoulders with jinyoung.

for a moment, he allows himself a small, genuine smile at seeing the smile on hyunjin’s face. he still remembers the moment he was with jyp outside, waiting for jaebum, and the thought that had been swirling in his mind since then pushes its way to the front of his thoughts. while a mere idea before, the more that he’s here with hyunjin…the more he’s sure of what he wants to do.

it makes him buzz with energy. jinyoung feeds hyunjin, being a tad bit sweeter than him than usual. he’s not supposed to have favorites, he’s supposed to treat all the kids the same, pinch all their cheeks and comfort all of their worries. but jinyoung knows that he has a favorite.

hyunjin has two whole bowls of soup and a bowl and a half of rice, the most he’s ever eaten. jinyoung feels stupidly touched, shifting to the other side to hold hyunjin in his arms and press their cheeks together in an affectionate gesture that he thought he had long trained himself out of. when he first started, he used to be very affectionate with all the kids like this until his supervisor had warned him about getting too close to the kids.

it could be taken the wrong way, jinyoung-ah, he had said. and it’s dangerous. for you and for them, for their parents and everyone’s wellbeing.

well, hyunjin doesn’t have parents. he’s all alone. he’s like jinyoung.

so he’ll squish their cheeks together all he wants, give hyunjin the affection and love that jinyoung desperately wished he had as a child and still doles out to his juniors from time to time.

“i’m sleepy,” hyunjin says, burping slightly and patting his tummy.

“want some tea before bed?” jinyoung pushes, gently running fingers through his hair.

“yeah,” hyunjin sighs, before physically perking out. “and drink!”

jaebum is also patting his stomach, following hyunjin’s example. he grins when hyunjin brings it up, reaching into his pockets to pull out a little box of chocolate banana milk.

“hyung,” jinyoung starts, displeased, but hyunjin gasps and reaches for it almost immediately.

“only once in a while,” jaebum ‘tsks’, placing the milk in hyunjin’s hands before grasping the other’s hands in his own. jinyoung stares at how close jaebum is to the both of them, since hyunjin is still in jinyoung’s arms. there’s a silver ring on jaebum’s thumb. jinyoung had given it to him as a graduation gift. “you have to make sure to take your medicine well and drink all the tea that nurse jinyoung makes for you, okay?”

“always!” hyunjin says, jumping a little in jinyoung’s lap, making the top of his head brush against jinyoung’s chin. he gives a little oof but doesn’t pay much attention to it.

hyunjin watches a show while he’s drinking his milk, sated and happy in the midst of lying down on a particularly large pikachu toy on his play mat. jinyoung cleans up his bowls and utensils while jaebum heads over to check hyunjin’s medical chart, flipping through it with a face clean of all expression. despite seeing it often and knowing that it was the face jaebum put on for parents so they won’t read anything from his expression be it good or bad, jinyoung still feels a shiver of apprehension go down his spine.

finally, when he’s done cleaning up, jinyoung washes his hands well and starts prepping hyunjin’s medicine. the pills are always difficult to go down for him, so jinyoung tries to make it as easy as possible for him.

jaebum finishes while jinyoung is coaxing hyunjin to take his medicine in between sips of his milk, which actually makes the process a lot smoother. his eyelids are heavy and jinyoung is worried he might choke, but he finishes all his pills quite easily.

“hyung,” jinyoung catches jaebum’s attention easily, “do you think you could pick him up and put him to bed?”

“yeah, give me a second.” jaebum sets aside his things and even takes off his stethoscope so he can pick hyunjin up, who mumbles half asleep.

jinyoung winces as he places the IV line back into hyunjin’s tiny hand. now that his mind is made up, it hurts to see the needle go in, despite doing it himself so many times before. jaebum finishes up by keeping the heart monitor on his finger, stretching and grabbing hyunjin’s folder.

in a moment of weakness, jinyoung reaches forward and brushes hyunjin’s bangs to the side. he’s not sweating in his sleep anymore, and when he breathes, the awful crackling sound is gone.

“good night, hyunjinnie,” he says in a low voice. what he doesn’t expect is for hyunjin to sigh and mumble back, “g’night, daddy.”

jinyoung rears back as if hit, but his hand still rests an inch over hyunjin’s forehead. the world gets a little blurry. jinyoung must be shaking, because everything feels slightly shifted to the right.

and then jaebum’s hand is grasping his wrist, pressing down on his pulse, grounding him. grounding each other. jinyoung blinks and looks over at him, feeling – raw. vulnerable. he had to have heard that too, there’s no way he didn’t.

jaebum pulls jinyoung closer to his own body, away from hyunjin, who is sleeping soundly. he doesn’t look upset or worried, only soft as he reaches forward and wipes at jinyoung’s cheek. there’s no tears – jinyoung isn’t crying – but the movement is so familiar of comfort to jinyoung, something that jaebum has done for him countless times, that he feels himself breathe easier at the small motion regardless.

“let’s go outside,” jaebum says. “come on, jinyoung.”

the moment they have all of their things together, the moment they step outside of hyunjin’s room and the door closes behind jinyoung, he blurts out – “i’m adopting him.”

jaebum must know. he must have seen it in jinyoung’s eyes, experience the slow and torturous movement of jinyoung slipping down that slope, the way his heart has never been able to handle children in pain. how he touches hyunjin so carefully, dutifully, with all of his fingers and his attention. jinyoung reaches forward to grasp the front of jaebum’s scrubs, pleading with him. jaebum has to know how much he loves that kid, how much he wants to give hyunjin that family.

he must know, because jaebum looks heartbroken (jinyoung can read it on his face, the impassive thinning of his mouth, his eyes darkening, he knows jaebum’s grief intimately i know you im jaebum - ) when he says, “i’m sorry, jinyoung-ah. it would be hard for them to give him to you.”

jinyoung does know. while he makes just enough for hyunjin to stay with him, he lives in a small apartment, and he works long hours. he can’t devote the time and energy that’s probably required to look after hyunjin, sick or not sick. probably, probably. but jinyoung would try. god, jinyoung would try. 

“he’s getting better,” jaebum admits, and jinyoung holds back a dry sob. he knows this too: that hyunjin is getting over his opportunistic infections really well, like a normal child with a healthy immune system. his blood tests are coming back better than ever. it’s like his body had bloomed under jinyoung’s attentive care. “a lot better. i don’t think director park wants to take him back to that orphanage, and he’s going to look for a good family to adopt hyunjin because of his parents. jinyoung – jinyoungie – “

jinyoung presses his forehead against jaebum’s shoulder. he’s breathing in and out heavily. g’night, daddy.

“they want to give him to a married couple, a real family,” jinyoung’s voice cracks at the end. “a nice young couple who can’t have kids.”

“jinyoung – “

“who can take him to the amusement park and help him with school. maybe one of his parents knows how to cook and doesn’t need fucking lessons,” he breathes out, and this time the sob is real. jaebum raises his hands almost immediately, wrapping them around jinyoung’s shoulders. he throws himself into it immediately, gripping the back of jaebum’s broad shoulders in the only comforting embrace he’s really known. jinyoung feels small in his arms. “and they’ll help him grow up well.”

“he’ll be happy,” jaebum says in his ear. “jinyoungie, jinyoungie, please stop crying. please.”

but jinyoung won’t. he’d done to himself what he hoped would never happen. they all know it. jaebum did, jinyoung did, hell – even mark had known. he didn’t have it under control. he had nothing under control.

it’s a strange feeling. he’s so used to having everything under a tight wrap. he’s got this, he tells himself continuously. he’s got this, he knows what he’s doing, he’s got this. he’s head nurse, he’s yugyeom and bambam’s rock, he’s jackson’s drama buddy, he’s mark’s wine friend. he’s jaebum’s best friend.

he wishes he was hyunjin’s dad.

jaebum has slowly begun to rock them back and forth, insistently rubbing jinyoung’s back. jaebum is not an easily affectionate person, not like jinyoung. jackson has complained about it before, being just as affectionate as jinyoung; jaebum doesn’t reach out as easily to the others, but jinyoung has been with him for so long that jaebum touches him without a second thought.

jinyoung’s nose feels stuffy. he’s cramped, held between jaebum’s arms and hunched to rest his head in the crook of jaebum’s shoulder and neck, but he feels comforted. no one can see him and his feelings when jaebum is shielding him from it all.

“i could do it,” jinyoung starts, voice starting as a hoarse whisper. “i could… i could get married, i could learn how to be a parent. i just – “

jaebum stiffens under him. “jinyoungie.”

“i just. he feels like my baby,” he admits. “he feels like my family. like you, jaebum-hyung, can’t you see that?”

and when he turns to meet jaebum’s eyes to plead, as if jaebum can fix it somehow – because jaebum is his hyung, he’s always been able to fix jinyoung’s most desperate problems, hasn’t he? – he comes face to face with a similar expression of utter devastation.

abruptly, jinyoung wonders when hyunjin had wormed his way into both their hearts.

“i know, jinyoung,” jaebum says. “i know.”

Chapter Text

the stress of the last week and a half is probably what leads jinyoung here, to the bar, at nearly midnight. he feels stuffy in his turtleneck and borrowed brown leather jacket, but his own jacket had an unfortunate accident and yugyeom’s spare had been the only thing he could wear. yugyeom and bambam like to frequent bars often after work, but this is the first in a long time that jinyoung has actually joined them on their excursion.

he immediately sets to himself to drink, running a hand through his hair. he probably looks stupid with all stuck up, but he can’t find himself to care. he downs three shots in one go, feeling the burn of it at the back of his neck.

“ah, hyung,” yugyeom starts, voice high and worried in the dim bar, “shouldn’t you slow down? you’re kind of a light weight…”

“i’m fine,” jinyoung says, and he’s glad that his words are still coming out clear. the alcohol must not have hit yet.

“let him be,” bambam says, but still shifts the shot glass aside a little. “he’s had a bad week, didn’t you notice?”

“it’s not an excuse to drink himself to death,” yugyeom mumbles. “and that’s not what he does, anyway. you know he doesn’t drink much.”

“keep jaebum-hyung on speed dial?” bambam suggests. “jinyoung-hyung is an adult. all we can do is be here and look out for him. are you going to dance or what?”

yugyeom looks at the dance floor a little wistfully, but shakes his head. “no, i’m going to stay here with him.”

bambam wanders off to the dance floor but ends up making his way back to them eventually, a haughty excuse ready on his lips up until the moment he spots jinyoung with his third bottle of soju. then his expression moves from speculative to downright worried.

“jesus,” he mumbles in thai.

“i’m calling jaebum-hyung,” yugyeom stands up and grabs jinyoung’s phone out of his pocket. “this isn’t normal for hyung, and i’m worried. i know you are too, bam.”

the fact that bambam only goes, “what has he been saying all night?” proves that yugyeom is right. jinyoung groans and moves him off briefly before blinking, recognizing it as bambam. his face brightens, and he purses his lips in an imitation of a kiss. “bammie!”

“oh, jesus,” bambam says, this time in korean.

“bammie, my baby. you used t’ kiss hyung aaaaaall the time, righ’ here,” jinyoung pokes his own cheek, giggling at how bloated he feels. must be the soju. or the crying that he’s been suppressing for the past few days. “but now you don’ do it anymore!”

“you did what?” yugyeom yelps.

bambam glares, but his face is pink. “jinyoung-hyung used to baby me a lot, is all!”

“but, but – “ yugyeom splutters, “i’m his baby?”

“what?”

“wait, that didn’t come out how i wanted it to – “

“you’re bof my babies,” jinyoung slurs, reaching over to sling the tall monsters under his arms. why do they have so much leg? “i rose you from the groun’ up. taugh’ you everythin’ about bein’ a nurse. gyeommie used t’ back hug me all the time. now neither of you do it anymore,” he pouts, sniffling a little. it’s just so sad. jinyoung wants as much affection as he gives others.

“jaebum-hyung, pick up,” yugyeom hisses at jinyoung’s phone, but his ears and nose are a cute shade of red. jinyoung reaches over to pinch his ear, sniffling all the while.

“but now i have a new baby but i can’t have him anymore and – “ jinyoung hiccups, “- it hurts.”

jaebum arrives some time later. jinyoung’s world is made of fuzzy colors and tilted on an axis. he has the strangest urge to write something down in a notebook like he had done when he was younger just to rip it all apart. he’s hanging on a loose, loose thread. jinyoung didn’t realize how much the last few days – hell, the last few weeks – has been hanging on his mind. he just wanted a night to forget. he wanted to forget hyunjin’s sweet smile and the way jinyoung feels so warm when watching him; he wants to forget jaebum’s happy grin at eating jinyoung’s leftover food from cooking class; he wants to rip out his own heart and stomp on it to death. tell it to stop feeling this way. stop feeling at all.

seeing jaebum rears all that ugliness up. he remembers why he doesn’t get drunk: he’s emotional, he’s ripping at the seams, he’s uncontrollable. all of his feelings are out there on the floor, and he can’t do anything but watch the wreckage. even now, as he stares up into jaebum’s eyes as the other grasps his elbow, he remembers other times (third year of undergrad, first year nursing school, jaebum’s graduation, them sixteen years old at his parents funeral, sneaking out of the temporary house jinyoung had been placed in) that jaebum had hauled his sorry drunk ass back into bed. most often, jaebum’s bed. jinyoung doesn’t remember how long he’s been in love with jaebum.

“does your bed have silk sheets,” jinyoung gasps as jaebum pats him down, looking for his phone and his wallet. when jaebum’s hands brush across his ass, jinyoung squirms closer. jaebum’s always been the closest person to jinyoung, no doubt, but when jinyoung is drunk – when jinyoung has his resolve down, it’s hard to repress the shudder that comes with feeling the warmth from jaebum’s hand. he doesn’t even bother trying this time.

“i’m taking you back to mine?”

“yeah,” jinyoung looks down at his shoes, squinting. “am i wearin’ dress shoes?”

“they’re mine, hyung,” yugyeom sighs, resigned. he looks up at the sky. “is this how my parents feel whenever i do something stupid? if so, god, buddha, jesus, i apologize.”

“shut up,” jinyoung mumbles. “what happened to my shoes?”

“alright, that’s enough from you,” jaebum sighs. “jinyoungie, why were you even drinking? you know how you get when you’re drunk.”

“he was just feeling down,” bambam quickly adds before jinyoung can start a ramble on how he can drink whenever the fuck he wants, thanks! “and then gyeommie and i dragged him here. don’t be too harsh on him, hyung.”

yugyeom jumps in eagerly. “yeah, yeah. i also gave him his first shot of soju. really, the best thing to do is just take him home, hyung.”

jaebum sighs. jinyoung tugs on jaebum’s watch, wanting to see the time, when the other pats him on the waist. a slight pinch at his side makes jinyoung groan in discomfort. “come on, get on my back.”

and that’s not something jinyoung would ever say no to, so he welcomes himself to jaebum’s broad back without complaint. jaebum catches him easily, working his knees for a moment, before letting jinyoung’s floppy arms in front of him do as they will. jinyoung settles for patting jaebum’s dark, soft hair.

“are you five?” jaebum asks, unimpressed, but he also sounds fond. jinyoung hopes that jaebum is fond of him. he hopes jaebum is in love with him, even though it really only seems like they’re best best best friends.

the drive home is somewhat lackluster as jinyoung, still in his manic-depressed happy mood hums along to all the songs on the radio. he even sings half key to some of them, coming up with his own adlibs and giggling to himself about his own audience. he’s so, so wasted.

jaebum brings him to his own apartment. it’s messy, messier than jinyoung’s, but it’s also a lot bigger. jaebum can afford more with his salary. jinyoung hates the small part of him that remembers when jaebum had asked him to be roommates and jinyoung had declined, citing that they had shared a space for nearly ten years of their life – shouldn’t they have some space apart?

(jinyoung needed to get over his stupid unrequited love. he needed to get out before he did something stupid, like kiss jaebum senseless. he still wants to do that, but it’s easier to shove down now than if he were to live with the guy.)

jaebum had been half carrying, half dragging him along gently, especially after jinyoung indicated a want and a need to throw up. once in his apartment, jaebum immediately changes him out of his pants, ignoring a wiggling jinyoung, and lets him borrow one of his hoodies to get warm. it’s too broad in the shoulders and hangs over jinyoung’s fingers.

“paw,” he says absentmindedly, flopping his wrist back and forth so the extra material can whip around. the fleece inside is really warm, and it smells just like jaebum. he’s already half asleep.

“no, shit, drink this first,” jaebum forces him to down two glasses of water and hangover medicine. he sighs. “you’re nearly at black out drunk status, jinyoungie.”

“hyung,” jinyoung wheedles out, sidling up to jaebum, pressing against his warmth. “i want ddeokbokki.”

jaebum turns very obviously pink now, flushing. “i can order in some if you want.”

“we could make some – “

“no open flames for you.”

“buzzkill,” he mutters under his breath, which jaebum lets out an incredulous laugh at.

“damn, if yugyeom and bambam – even jackson, for god’s sake – saw how you really are when you’re drunk like this, they’d never believe me. park jinyoung? calling me a buzzkill?” jaebum’s hands move to run through jinyoung’s hair. he leans into it, humming at the feeling. quieter, jaebum says, “you take yourself too seriously. when we started at the hospital together, you were so clingy, and asked for help with everything. you depended on me a lot, but you cried easily. even when we were younger, you were like that. now you’re independent, but so much more closed off, jinyoungie.”

jaebum is speaking too fast; his words stumble together in his brain. “it hurts,” jinyoung mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut.

“i know,” jaebum replies. “i know that you do it because you have no other choice. i know.”

“still depen’ a lot on hyung,” he continues, finding it integral that jaebum knows this for a fact. he pulls away and puts his covered hands on jaebum’s cheeks, bringing their faces real close together. “i go anywhere hyung goes.”

it’s like time stops for a while. jinyoung is still feeling hazy, but he can clearly see the way jaebum’s eyes looks into his own, how he’s holding jinyoung steady by the small of his back. jinyoung has known he’s liked men since he was thirteen. he knows he’s liked jaebum since they were seventeen. when that like turned to love? jinyoung isn’t very sure. jinyoung doesn’t know how long he’s been in love with jaebum.

he smells like warmth and fading cologne. jaebum’s hands are very, very warm, very capable. jinyoung reaches out to trace his fingertips over the two moles over jaebum’s eye, down to the curve of his cheek and the bridge of his nose, while the other’s breath hitches.

“hyung is handsome,” jinyoung says, his words sticking to each other like honey. he brings up his other hand to trace the shape of jaebum’s lips.

“jinyoung,” jaebum’s mouth makes the words of jinyoung’s name, and he follows it intensely. it’s a process, especially since everything still feels like a challenge. but this? being this close to jaebum, drowsy on the high of alcohol and emotion? this is the easiest thing jinyoung has done in ages. and he’s tired, so tired of tightly packing everything away. “jinyoung,” he repeats, this time more desperate. “you feel the same way i do, don’t you? jinyoung.”

jaebum is his best, best, best friend.

“i can’t,” jinyoung meets his eyes, where he sees only black, because jaebum’s eyes are dilated. “i can’t lose you too. i lost hyunjin already, can’t lose you too.”

“please remember this,” jaebum chokes out, like it’s been punched out of him, before he leans forward to press his mouth against jinyoung’s.

his mouth is dry, but warm. it’s like jaebum doesn’t know what to do with himself at first, but at a small noise jinyoung makes, his hands push at the small of jinyoung’s back so they can be pressed closer. closer and closer. he loses himself in the plush of jinyoung’s mouth. jaebum bites at jinyoung’s lower lip until it’s swollen pink, until jinyoung’s breath stutters, until he feels lightheaded.

jaebum pulls away suddenly, as if realizing what he’s done. “shit,” he groans, resting his foreheat against jinyoung’s shoulder. “shit. i’m sorry, i’m sorry, nyoung.”

he’s just kissed jaebum, jinyoung thinks blankly. jaebum just kissed him. he can’t even begin to process the idea.

“i’d do anything to see you happy,” jaebum admits then, breathing in. “you’d never lose me. is that you’ve been thinking, all these years?”

jinyoung doesn’t answer, which is enough of an answer.

“and you,” jaebum falters, “you won’t even remember this when you wake up, will you? jinyoung,” jaebum looks up to press their foreheads together. jinyoung blinks at him, astounded. “i’ve told you this before, too. you’re it for me, park jinyoung. i’m just too much of a coward to tell you when you’re sober because – “ he laughs, but it’s not happy. jinyoung makes an alarmed sound, instinctually wanting to soothe jaebum’s pain. “ – because i’m scared of losing you too.”

“jaebum-hyung,” jinyoung blindly tries to comfort him, but jaebum shakes his head. ever so gently, he places moves jinyoung off of him and tells him to lie down and rest. jinyoung opens his mouth to say something – anything – when has this happened before? when has jaebum told him this before? – but jaebum’s couch is so comfortable. his head is so heavy.

“i’m going to get you that ddeokbokki,” jaebum scratches the back of his head, heaving in a great breath. “wait here for me.”

by the time jaebum gets back, jinyoung is already fast asleep.

/

jinyoung wakes up with a minor headache. it’s a bit of a pulse behind his eyes, nothing too major, and thankfully he doesn’t have any noise or light sensitivity since the television is on. after a couple of blinks, it becomes obvious that he isn’t in his own apartment, but rather his home away from home – jaebum’s place.

the television provides a great source of white noise. when jinyoung wakes up fully, all his upper mental functions online, he realizes that he had gotten blackout drunk after wanting to forget about this hell of a week and that he can’t remember anything past his fourth shot of soju. he swears, pressing the heel of his palm against his eyes. thankfully yugyeom or bambam must have called jaebum to come collect him.

there’s a container of spicy ddeokbokki on the coffee table in front of him with his name written on it. jinyoung must have asked for it, or else jaebum would have never gotten it so late at night. he likes his ddeok fresh.

the man himself is sleeping on the side chair, his head at an odd angle. jinyoung pushes down the strange feeling of warmth that bleeds through him when he sees that jaebum had been watching over him instead of heading back to his room, as normal people would do.

he grabs the container of take out and kicks the blanket off of his legs, shivering when the cold air hits his bare legs. so jaebum had dressed him down, too. he can’t be bothered to find his pants (which were too tight for his liking, anyways – fuck listening to bambam and his “fashion advice” ever again, jinyoung will stick with his comfy jeans and slacks) so he grabs the slippers he keeps in jaebum’s apartment and heads into his kitchen.

jaebum doesn’t keep tea in his cabinets, because he’s uncultured and prefers coffee, but jinyoung manages to scrap together two bags of commercial black tea somewhere in the back. it’s not his tea, but it’ll have to do. he starts the kettle up and fries up some eggs to eat, along with toast from bread that he weasels out of jaebum’s pantry.

the eggs and bread go great with the ddeokbokki, adding a little bit extra to the already spicy flavor. he eats the toast with the leftover sauce, making sure to leave a good amount for jaebum. he’s starving, feels a little bit like ass, but thinking about nothing else but food and getting himself through the next thirty minutes is a nice way to distract himself.

jaebum shuffles in a moment later, and jinyoung can tell because his feet drag on the floor.

“what kind of almost thirty-year-old man acts like he’s five?” jinyoung starts, unknowingly mirroring what jaebum had said just last night.

the other groans, not bothering to answer jinyoung, only barely managing to hug him from behind. jaebum digs his face between jinyoung’s shoulder blades.

jinyoung takes pity on him, softening. he must have given jaebum a hard time. “thank you for taking care of me last night.”

“i’ll always take care of you,” jaebum mutters, bringing back what jinyoung had joked with him about so long ago. jinyoung offers him a rice cake, nudging jaebum with an elbow to straighten his face to properly eat. jaebum shakes his head, saying that he doesn’t want to eat spicy food so early in the morning.

“you’re going to miss your cooking class,” jaebum exhales.

“it’s fine. one day won’t kill me.”

a small silence. “you’re getting a lot better at it. although i never doubted that for a second, the perfectionist you are.”

jinyoung smiles; any other day it would have been tinged with the proud edge of smugness, but with his slowly fading headache at the comfortable warmth seeping into his skin, it’s only amused. “yeah. i was going to start making my own kimchi, too.” it’s a little too close to the truth: that jinyoung had asked jaebum’s mother for her kimchi recipe instead of trying an online recipe. that jinyoung has memorized the ingredients and the steps, but can’t seem to get himself to stop buying packs from the convenience store.

“sounds good,” jaebum steps back, gently pushing at jinyoung’s elbow. his eyes are kind when he asks, “want to tell me what that was about?”

“what?” jinyoung bluffs, but it doesn’t last for very long. he turns away from jaebum almost immediately. “i can’t pretend that i’m not upset about it. i just thought…” for once, maybe, he could just drink it all down. this has never turned out well for jinyoung, but he had been hoping that as an older person, that as someone who has lived through most of the tough times of his life, he should’ve been able to get over it by now. but jinyoung is a lightweight, and he’s never learned the art of shielding his heart past paper thin walls.

jaebum doesn’t let it go, because of course he doesn’t. he digs deep, until he can find the source of the hurt to make it all better. “hyunjin misses you. he knows something is wrong when you didn’t come to visit him yesterday. he was so sad, he didn’t eat all day.”

jinyoung’s breath hitches. “that’s not – he should have eaten anyway.”

“he loves you as much as you love him,” jaebum admits. it hurts, but jinyoung knows this, too. he can see it in the way hyunjin comes to him for everything, taking solace in the circle of his arms. “the best i can do is try to get you in a meeting with the director and his social worker, but that’s about it.”

jinyoung whirls around so fast it gives him whiplash.

“as someone who has worked with hyunjin for ages, and is thinking of his best interest,” jaebum offers with a flicker of a smile. his eyes are oddly sad, and he seems tired, jinyoung thinks, but he can’t seem to feel anything else but the swell in his chest. “i know someone who would be perfect for him.”

“thank you,” jinyoung breathes reaching forward to hug jaebum so hard that it knocks them both clean off their feet.

/

jinyoung does all he can to prepare for that meeting, which is in a month’s time. it’s with director park, who has current guardianship of hyunjin, the social worker on hyunjin’s case, jinyoung and jaebum. he worries over what to say, what to do, and spends the three weeks leading up to the meeting preparing himself – his documents, his bank account statements (which are always spotless), his apartment, everything. he’s prepared himself to talk them into his own responsibility. he’s even made flash cards.

jaebum is the one that talks him down from wearing a suit and a tie, opting instead for a pair of comfortable gray slacks and a white sweater that makes him look “soft and approachable, just like a parent”. jinyoung pinches jaebum’s ear for that, but feels strangely grateful for the help. he can’t wear dress shoes so he opts for a pair of comfy sneakers. he looks smart but casual.

jinyoung worries at his hair, wishing that jaebum was here just so jinyoung could snark something at him and worry like he always does. just to have his presence would have been a great help, but jaebum still had work to do in the morning prior to their meeting. jinyoung had taken the day off, which had appropriately worried every single one of the nurses on his shift (which, rude. he wasn’t that much of a workaholic).

he comes to this hospital every single day, but this time around, jinyoung feels as though he’s heading toward the principal’s office more so than his work place. why is he so nervous? why are the tiles suddenly a different color? were the walls always this white? is this what being here as a civilian feels like?

jyp greets him outside of his office with a smile, running a hand through his spiky hair and outstretching his hand toward jinyoung. there’s a stunning woman standing next to him a half step behind. jinyoung wipes his hands on the seat of his pants before reaching forward to shake jyp’s hand.

“nurse park,” the director nods, giving jinyoung the respect of his title. “sorry for making you wait.”

“no, i haven’t been here long at all,” he assures them.

“i’ve brought hyunjin’s social worker to join us. dr. im will be joining us shortly. miss bae joohyun, this is park jinyoung, who is interested in adopting hyunjin.”

“pleasure to meet you. please call me irene.” her handshake is strong and firm. jinyoung wonders where the nerves he had staring down at gory scenes back in his rotation days have gone.

once heading inside jyp’s office, jinyoung settles for the seat on the far left, whereas irene settles herself down on the far right. there’s a chair in the middle, arguably for jaebum, and jyp settles himself down into his own chair.

“thank you for meeting with me,” irene begins, shuffling something out of her suitcase. “i was able to meet hyunjin this morning once again. he’s a very sweet boy, remembered me even though i hadn’t seen him in almost a month.”

“he is,” jinyoung agrees, only realizing what he’s said when both jyp and irene turn around to stare at him. he presses his lips together and clasps his hands in front of him. maybe he should have worn a suit, he thinks, looking at irene and jyp’s classic silhouettes.

irene stares at him for a beat longer, but then something in her face changes. “mr. park,” she begins, “no – nurse park. i’ve heard a lot from director park about you. he has nothing but good things to say, and so does the rest of your coworkers and doctor im. please, don’t be worried. i’m not here to decide whether or not you’re fit to be a parent; i’m here to expedite the process.”

jinyoung feels as though he’s going to get lightheaded any second. it’s the same uncomfortable feeling he’s sadly familiar with, the one that comes right before the shoe drops. “thank you?”

a flicker of a smile crosses irene’s face. “hyunjin talks about you,” she says as a means of explanation. “he loves you very much.”

jinyoung’s ears are warm.

“all the questions that i’ll be asking are ones that director park hasn’t already answered. they’re just simple questions, and some of them may seem strange to you, for which i apologize. it’s just…” she looks at director park before turning back to jinyoung. “there is, in fact, another couple that wants to adopt hyunjin. and unfortunately, the system prefers two guardians to one for the wellbeing of the child, especially if the parent is a working parent.”

jinyoung nods. “i know, thank you for the clarification.”

“ah,” director park is the first to add in, “but i believe nurse park isn’t single?”

what? blinking blankly, he turns to jyp. that’s the first i’m hearing about it, jinyoung thinks dumbly.

irene is too busy raising an eyebrow at director park to notice jinyoung’s surprise. “oh? it states in his official files that he is unmarried.”

“i believe nurse park has been in a long-standing relationship with my protégé, dr. im? hyunjin mentioned him as well. he’s the main physician on his case.”

“oh, yes,” irene’s eyes light up, turning to look at a slowly reddening jinyoung. what is happening? his mouth opens and closes, but not a single word comes out. not in his wildest imagination would he have thought this would be occurring. irene is openly beaming now. “i didn’t realize, please have my apologies. have you been together long?”

“i – i – we’ve known each other for almost fifteen years,” jinyoung stammers out, because technically that’s true. they just haven’t been a romantic couple for that long.

“wow,” irene says, “longer than most married couples nowadays, if i’ll be honest.”

“that’s great to know,” director park says suggestively, smiling at irene. jinyoung can’t fathom whether he’s aware that he and jaebum are definitely not together or if this is part of his master plan. in fact, he can barely understand what jyp is thinking on a good day, and he had worked for the man for years. “who knows when they’ll be married, you know?” he’s all smiles, but it’s evident now by his words and irene’s reaction that they both believe that jinyoung and jaebum’s “relationship” is one for the long haul. meaning: hyunjin has that stability that irene is looking for. that perhaps both of them falling in love with the same child is just fate.

which would be all fine and well and dandy if he and jaebum were together.

irene is much warmer when she starts, “let me begin those questions now.”

she asks customary things about jinyoung: his financial stability, contact with extended family, how often he’s at home and how flexible his job is (with pointed, assuring noises from jyp), etc. jinyoung answers on autopilot. when they get to his responsibilities of taking care of hyunjin, including the medical care – which is covered by jinyoung’s insurance, and since jaebum is his doctor at the moment, any hassle on that front less than nothing – jinyoung feels as though someone has doused ice water on him. he listens carefully to the rest: the paperwork, the time it would take until they could call hyunjin legally theirs, and by the way his medication is going, how long it would be until jinyoung could take him home.

“of course, there is the issue of space,” irene begins. “as i am aware, your records show that your apartment is currently only under your name, jinyoung-ssi?”

“yes,” jinyoung starts. “that’s where i’ve been living since i started working at the hospital.” he began before jaebum, who at the time was still working through his last few rotations in a completely different hospital before he began to work under director park. irene doesn’t ask why they don’t live together, possibly taking something from the way jinyoung forms his sentences.

“well, this looks all in order – “

so of course, this is when jaebum decides to show up.

he knocks on the door casually, letting himself inside with a sheepish smile. he looks like he’s tried hard to get himself all cleaned up, with his hair smoothed back. he’s in scrubs, though, which makes jinyoung want to throw a paper weight at him. why isn’t he dressed up too?

“sorry for my late arrival,” jaebum apologizes, meeting jinyoung’s eyes. almost immediately, he goes to stand behind his chair. “although it seems like everything is going well?”

“yes, it has been, dr. im. thank you for joining, i know you’re quite busy.” irene shuffles some papers and hands them to jinyoung. “this is the paperwork that requires your signature. once we get these processed in approximately a week or so, you’ll be in full custody of hyunjin.”

jinyoung takes the papers with shaking hands. almost immediately, he meets jaebum’s eyes for something to ground him. jaebum reaches out to squeeze his shoulder. irene’s sharp gaze doesn’t miss this either.

after a moment, jinyoung signs.

“thank you,” irene takes back the papers and then tucks them into her briefcase. “congratulations, nurse park, dr. im. it was a pleasure to go through this process with you. please, here, my business card in case you need to reach me at any given time. i assume you’ll let hyunjin know of the happy news.”

“thank you,” jinyoung repeats back at her, feeling as though all of this is unreal. “thank you – “

he can’t help himself from crying, a little. the tears start up sudden but overwhelming, leaving jinyoung to blink them away endlessly. he wipes at his face, bemused, but irene only looks understanding. she gives them all a hearty handshake as she leaves, and director park walks her out of the room while jinyoung composes himself.

after a beat, jaebum reaches forward and gives him a big bear hug. jinyoung clings to him, feeling insanely, inexplicably happy.

“congratulations, jinyoungie,” jaebum says, laughing loud and bright. he pulls away, and then asks, “although why did she congratulate me too?”

“i – “

“well,” director park cuts in, laughing. he turns to both of them, clapping jaebum on the shoulder. “i’m glad for you, kid. be happy that jinyoung here is great under intense situations; this stuff is hard to go through with your partner, forget being alone! speaking of – jaebum-ah, you should really think about looking for rings, you know? or at least start planning a marriage catalogue! what is it that people do nowadays? pinterest?”

“what,” jinyoung says, although it gets lost in the subsequent confused look jaebum gives his mentor. jinyoung didn’t feel calm and composed at all. he felt like he would explode at any moment.

“with your partner?” jaebum asks, confused and taken aback. jinyoung feels his heart drop. “pinterest? what are you talking about?”

director park looks at the both of them, slightly confused. “aren’t you two together?”

/

they most certainly don’t talk about it. after jaebum’s gob smacked reaction and the subsequent quiet that had fallen over the director’s room after his question (his life altering, changing, why would you ask us that question), both jinyoung and jaebum had found their way out. like clockwork, they had turned away from each other. jinyoung went straight to the pediatric ward without stopping by the lockers to change, and jaebum had rushed back to his operating room.

“wow,” yugyeom, jinyoung’s trusted piece of shit, chortles as jinyoung heads to the front table. “rocking the chaebol’s snobby mom look, hyung!”

“could use some more pizzazz,” bambam says judgmentally. they’re sitting behind the counter with a cup of coffee for bambam and a mug of tea for yugyeom. mark raises his take out cup of coffee in hello to jinyoung. what’s new, however, is the addition of jackson’s resident, youngjae, who is holding a cup similar to mark’s with less of the confidence. in fact, he looks almost like he wants to run into a dark closet and hide.

“if you’re not doing your work properly, i’ll dock your pay so fast that you’ll be assembling catheters from the streets in a day,” jinyoung tells both of his terrors without much inflection in his tone. “hi, mark-hyung.”

youngjae stares wide-eyed at jinyoung and his sharp words, but jinyoung’s terrors just cackle.

“jinyoung-ah,” mark cracks into a smile, reaching forward to pat youngjae’s shoulder fondly. “i know you must have been introduced to youngjae in passing, especially since he worked with jaebum, but i don’t think we ever formally introduced youngjae to you.” with a forgiving little pat, mark pushes youngjae forward. jinyoung thinks the little stumble is uncalled for – he’s not terrifying at all.

“i’m choi youngjae,” he introduces himself, shifting his coffee cup in his hands and meeting jinyoung’s eyes briefly before looking down again. “um, sorry. i’m a resident working with dr. wang right now… i want to eventually be in pediatrics too.”

and maybe it’s the way he’s staring at his feet, or his shuffling, but he reminds jinyoung of a baby animal. he can’t help himself from reaching out and patting youngjae’s head like he’s one of the kids here.

“how cute,” jinyoung says, stepping back and ignoring the way yugyeom and bambam have shut up. youngjae blinks at him. “i can see why jaebum-hyung liked you so much. if you ever work with him again and he gets to be too much – i know he has a temper, even though he’s really good at handling it now – just let me know, this hyung will take care of him for you. i’m park jinyoung, the head nurse here.”

“what the hell,” bambam splutters.

“what is this blatant change in favoritism?” yugyeom says, reaching over to annoyingly pat at jinyoung’s bicep. “hyung! hyung!”

“thanks,” youngjae smiles wide. jinyoung resists the urge to pat him again. he’s like a baby seal, almost. or an otter.

bambam is currently comforting an over dramatic yugyeom (jinyoung ignores them as per usual) and mark is checking something on his phone. “did you two feed the babies yet? it should be around their feeding time.”

“sana is in charge today,” bambam says. “she should be there right now. i think jihyo wanted to say thank you to you, hyung, for labelling the bottles yesterday before you left.”

“i’ll text her later,” jinyoung fixes the bag strap at his shoulder, remembering suddenly that he’s not in his scrubs. it feels almost foreign, to be here without his usual layer of medically sterile armor on. he shifts, uncomfortable, before remembering what had happened just a few moments prior and why he’s even here in the first place. jinyoung looks at bambam. “i’m going to need a visitor’s pass, hospital rules. i’m not here as a nurse today, you guys all know that.”

mark straightens. when he meets jinyoung’s gaze, the other nods. jinyoung’s fingers tighten around his bag strap, unable to help a smile from growing. mark takes a moment to catch on – no doubt jaebum had filled him in at some point, him and jackson both – and then laughs, genuinely happy for jinyoung. they both remember the talk that mark had painstakingly given jinyoung months ago.

“who are you here for?” yugyeom asks, confused.

“hwang hyunjin,” jinyoung says. and then, because he knows that next question they’ll have to ask, “i’m his parent.”

bambam eyes rise to his hairline, and they stay there as his mouth curls into a wide smile. yugyeom, too, looks taken aback for a moment before he jumps up in his seat, voice pitching high as he says, “really? hyung, really?”

jinyoung nods. “we finally fixed up all the papers this morning.”

“oh my god!” yugyeom literally jumps in his spot, rushing over with the visitor’s sticker to haphazardly place on jinyoung’s front. “jinyoung-hyung! that’s so great, i’m so happy for you!” jinyoung is immediately given a whole armful of a tall nurse, clutching at his back and babbling excitedly in his ear. jinyoung hugs back as tight as possible, unable to also keep down the bubble of happiness that continues to burst inside of him.

“i’m taking you there,” yugyeom beams, reaching down to grab jinyoung’s hand and lead him away. jinyoung turns back and waves at bambam, who is doing a little victory dance, mark, and a confused youngjae.

yugyeom talks all the way to hyunjin’s room, which has been changed back to the original one he had been in. this is a good thing, jinyoung tells himself, because that means that hyunjin doesn’t need the overly sterile environment. he can play with the other kids in the wing. he’s getting better. the medication is working.

yugyeom sweeps him up in another hug, right before they reach hyunjin’s door. jinyoung pats his back and chuckles. “i think you’re happier than i am about this, gyeom.”

“no,” yugyeom says, muffled in jinyoung’s shoulder, “i just think you deserve this, hyung.” he pulls away with another small smile. despite how much yugyeom wants to make jinyoung pull his hair clean through, he was also the first person jinyoung had ever taught from the very beginning. he’s jinyoung’s little protégé. jinyoung pats his cheek comfortingly, as if to say that he understands what yugyeom is struggling to put into words.

yugyeom leaves him be at the front of hyunjin’s door. jinyoung inhales, gathering his nerves, before he heads inside.

“nyoung!” hyunjin greets, beaming from where he’s been playing on a tablet. jinyoung laughs and greets him in return, pulling up a seat and settling down next to hyunjin’s bed. he looks a lot better now, and his voice sounds better too. “you came to visit! nurse lee said you weren’t here today…”

“that’s because i was preparing a big surprise for you,” jinyoung says easily. he reaches forward and brushes the long pieces of hyunjin’s fringe out of his face. “say, hyunjin. we never finished that book, did we? le petit prince?”

“we did,” hyunjin argues.

“well, i can’t remember. this old brain, you know,” jinyoung knocks on his own forehead. hyunjin giggles. “want to go grab it?”

hyunjin slides out of bed and quick as a dart, grabs his book from the little shelf. jinyoung thinks about all the books he and jaebum have introduced hyunjin to, a sliver of pride making its way to his smile. jaebum’s name lingers in his mind.

“here,” hyunjin says, pushing the book into jinyoung’s hands.

“thank you, hyunjinnie.” but jinyoung doesn’t move any further to open the book.

hyunjin climbs back into his bed, looking up at jinyoung curiously. when jinyoung smiles at him, he smiles back almost instantly.

“hyunjinnie,” jinyoung starts, his fingers tightening over the edges of the book, “remember how you told me you didn’t have a mommy or a daddy?”

hyunjin blinks. “yeah?”

“i don’t have a mommy or a daddy either.”

“oh,” hyunjin breathes. he frowns, holding onto jinyoung’s pinky finger. his hands are so tiny, so warm. “are you sad?”

jinyoung thinks about it. “well,” he begins, “i had a mommy and a daddy at first. the thing is, hyunjinnie, not all moms and dads love – love their kids. your parents loved you very much, but mine… mine didn’t. for a long time, that hurt my feelings very much. but i thought one day, when i’m a daddy, i’ll love my baby twice as much. it hurt for a long time, hyunjinnie.”

hyunjin blinks at him. jinyoung knows that he won’t understand much of what jinyoung is saying, not at this age, but the way hyunjin hangs onto his words makes the small, reticent part of jinyoung that is so afraid to speak about his childhood start to fold. because something in hyunjin’s eyes tells jinyoung that he knows this is more than a story.

“but it’s okay,” jinyoung breathes out. he reaches forward and cups the side of hyunjin’s face. “it’s okay. i didn’t think i would ever be able to find a baby of my own to love, but i did. i chose to love him. do you know what his name is?”

hyunjin shakes his head. pauses. then nods.

“hyunjinnie,” jinyoung starts gently, “do you want to come home with me?”

it’s a quiet, heart-wrenching moment. jinyoung thinks, i chose you -  but maybe it wasn’t that much of a choice in the first place, looking at hyunjin’s tear stained eyes as he asks, “you’re going to be my daddy?”

“if you want me to,” jinyoung admits. “because i want to be your dad, hyunjin.”

hyunjin shakes his head. pauses. then nods, barreling forward to bury his tear stained face in jinyoung’s sweater. so overcome with his own emotions of happiness, bewilderment, love, he can’t help but cry. jinyoung wraps his arms around him, finally at ease, reveling in the feeling of being able to protect hyunjin the way he’s wanted since the first night they met. running his hand through hyunjin’s dark hair, jinyoung presses a kiss against hyunjin’s head, laughing even through his own vision is blurry.

“nyoung?” hyunjin says, voice cracking. his voice is high, face flushed. “i can go home with you?”

“tomorrow, today, any day you want,” jinyoung grins, pressing his cheek against the top of hyunjin’s hair, “we can go home.”

/

jinyoung doesn’t realize how much he doesn’t see jaebum – how little he really comes face to face with the one man who has been a constant in his entire life – until saturday hits, he’s brewing a mug of tea for himself, and jaebum texts him that he’s outside waiting for jinyoung in his car.

something’s been off for the past few days, but jinyoung had been unable to discern what it was. it’s only when he’s comfortably inside the car, holding a to-go mug of coffee, does he come face to face with jaebum and blurts out, “i haven’t seen you in a while.”

jaebum looks like he doesn’t know how to respond to that, either, so jinyoung abruptly begins to back track.

“i mean, since hyunjin’s adoption – “ the day at jyp’s office, more like. “ – i just haven’t seen hyung around.”

“there were a lot of surgeries back to back,” jaebum replies. he meets jinyoung’s eyes, and the shadows underneath them are more severe than normal. they almost look like bruises. “and one of them ended up being an emergency. i was a bit overwhelmed. sorry.”

“don’t apologize,” jinyoung says, a little bit exasperated at a conversation that they’d had a long, long time ago. “i was just…it was just a comment. i wasn’t thinking when i said it.” his mouth is on the verge of apologizing too, which jaebum must have seen, because he puts the car in drive and shakes his head.

“don’t apologize either, jinyoungie. i’d rather you tell me everything you want to say whether i’d like it or not rather than keeping it in.”

abruptly, jinyoung feels as though this is encroaching on a topic he’d rather forget. he knows that jaebum must have no idea about his feelings (he can’t, jinyoung tells himself, why would he do nothing if he knew? right? right?) and that his comment just happened to hit a place jinyoung has safeguarded close to his chest. jaebum couldn’t know. he doesn’t know.

jinyoung sips at his tea and lets it warm his fingers. he still has a couple more classes that’s paid for, but they can be taken at any time. jinyoung blinks slowly, staring at jaebum, before the other takes a hint and turns to face him at a red light.

“let’s go to the mall strip,” jinyoung says abruptly. “i don’t want to go to that class, today.”

“what for?”

“hyunjin – “ jinyoung swallows, face flushing, “hyunjin doesn’t have any clothes, or toys, or…”

a brief silence, before jaebum snorts. it’s a precursor to his full out laughter, coming from deep in his belly, and jinyoung squeezes his eyes shut even as he smiles too.

“you didn’t think about this beforehand? the always-prepared park jinyoung?” jaebum starts to make a u-turn. “this is not like you, the spontaneity.”

“i think adopting a child is enough spontaneity for a whole decade, thanks,” jinyoung defends himself.

“no one is surprised that hyunjin wanted to go home with you, jinyoung,” jaebum says. “the kid pretty much clung onto you at first glance. what was surprising – although in hindsight, maybe not as much – was how you clung back.”

“i’m not clingy,” jinyoung scowls, pushing the radio buttons to find some pop song to listen to.

jaebum smiles. “you are. you might pretend like you’re not, but you’re clingy. like a cat.”

“ugh, don’t bring your cat fetish into this, jaebum-hyung,” jinyoung begins, but the sentence – which he’s said so, so many times before, since jaebum’s cats were an integral part of his life, suddenly seems too suggestive. aren’t you two together? “i’m not like a cat.”

“i bet there’s really cute cat-themed clothes in the store,” jaebum grins widely, looking excited. jinyoung peeks at his expression and can’t help but smile in return, despite how much he wants to argue that he’s just slightly more affectionate than the rest of their friends, not as clingy as jaebum thinks he is. his smile disappears as something comes to mind. “don’t you dare try to buy anything today, hyung. i’ll bury you.”

“so violent,” jaebum ignores the entire first part of his sentence, heading down the highway all relaxed. “besides, what i do with my money is my business.”

“im jaebum,” jinyoung pokes him in the bicep hard, “if you think for one moment that what is your business is not also my business, you’re sorely wrong.” jaebum blinks at him, surprised. jinyoung sets his jaw, unwilling to budge on this. “what’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is mine. so if i say you’re not buying hyunjin anything, you’re not buying hyunjin anything.”

jaebum puts his car in park; jinyoung doesn’t wait a moment until he’s leaving the stuffy car, stretching and letting his limbs loosen after a particularly long drive. jaebum shrugs on his long coat, scrambling around for a hat in the front seat and his keys, before joining jinyoung at the trunk of his car.

“by your logic then,” jaebum starts as jinyoung stares at his cold nipped cheeks and ears, “then i should be able to buy anything i want for hyunjin because my money is technically your money, so technically i’m not spending my money, i’m spending your money.”

jinyoung shoves jaebum’s clumsy hands away from where they’re buttoning up his coat, opting to do it himself. “that makes no sense,” jinyoung says. “at least think before you say something, yeah?”

“it makes perfect sense,” jaebum argues. “oh, thanks.”

“where’s your scarf? how come you’re always ragging on me for not wearing proper clothes when you barely know how to dress yourself?”

“i don’t get as cold as you do jinyoungie,” jaebum sighs, drawing it out a little until it almost sounds like a whine. jinyoung smacks his chest gently. “and you’re so bad at realizing when the seasons change! you always get sick!”

“at least keep a pair of gloves in your car! your fingers are frozen and you couldn’t even button up your jacket properly. and where’s the scarf i gave you? do you know how many i’ve lost because of you?”

“it’s somewhere,” jaebum mumbles. he’s strangely flushed in the cheeks. “at home, maybe?”

“at home?”

“nora likes your scarves,” jaebum says abruptly, but he won’t meet jinyoung’s eyes. frowning, he goes, “you’re still shivering.”

“we should go inside, not stand out here.”

“agreed. come on,” jaebum links their arms together, taking jinyoung’s hand so he can loop it through the crook of jaebum’s arm as the other keeps his hand in his pocket. it makes jinyoung eerily aware of how close jaebum is to him. “do you have a list of things you need to buy?”

and because jinyoung isn’t the type to be wholly unprepared most of the time, he digs out his phone and pulls up his notes. at first, they get the biggest, most important things – furniture, mainly. jinyoung’s guest room is small (perfect space for a child) with a twin bed, but jinyoung buys a bookshelf and a couple other things that little boys need: a dresser, a toy box, a bean bag chair, a small desk and chair for hyunjin to sit on. the larger desk and chair that’s currently in the room will be moved to jinyoung’s bedroom. he pinches jaebum’s ear halfway to hell when he realizes the other has already paid for half by the time jinyoung gets to the register after filling in his address for the shipping.

the next thing they get is clothes; jinyoung is stuck cycling through the little boys section a little lost, wondering what kind of clothes hyunjin would like. he’s always prided himself on dressing well, but he knows that not everyone likes to dress the way he does, and he doesn’t want to push anything on hyunjin that he wouldn’t like. he would ask jaebum, but jaebum’s disappeared as soon as he gets inside the store, something catching his eye quickly in the electronics section. jinyoung lets him go with a warning not to buy anything for jinyoung or hyunjin.

he starts to go through his phone to look it up (bless naver) when a stray, sudden thought comes to mind: doesn’t he have a nephew?

but god knows how long it’s been since he’s talked to boyoung or soyoung. he had heard about soyoung giving birth to a healthy boy just because of some strange link through mutual friends years back. he doesn’t know how old his nephew must be by now (seven? eight years old?) and he doesn’t know soyoung’s number anyways.

jinyoung asks the workers in the store. they must see something on his face, because the girl that walks him through the necessities a little boy needs – socks, underwear, pajamas – is very soft spoken, as if he’s a startled animal.

jinyoung thanks her profusely and starts going through the haul of pretty neutral, comfortable clothes, thinking that he should probably bring hyunjin back here to decide for himself. they could make a day out of it, maybe.

that’s how jaebum finds him. jinyoung looks at jaebum’s sheepish grin, then at the bags in his hands, and resists the urge to scream.

“hyung,” he starts again, sickly sweet, pointing to the bags that jaebum is trying to hid behind his back, “what’s that?”

jaebum bought hyunjin a tablet.

and not just that – a console, a bunch of games, a watch, toy cars, a dollhouse, blocks, legos. there was so much in jaebum’s hands that jinyoung is – jinyoung is –

“ah,” jaebum starts, panicked. “why – jinyoungie why are you crying?”

“i,” jinyoung inhales shakily, “am going to kill you.”

/

jinyoung pays for lunch, because he’ll actually throttle jaebum if he tries to pay again after spending an exorbitant amount of money, and jaebum can do nothing but sit there and take it. they find a sandwich shop nearby and settle down with a large amount of bags. jinyoung stills has numerous things he wants to take care of, many “t”s to cross and “i”s to dot, but for now he’s satisfied.

“he might want to change the color of his room,” jinyoung says, “or get other things. i might go shopping another day so hyunjin can pick out what he likes exactly.”

“i think he’d like the color blue,” jaebum adds, downing a cookie in one entire go. jinyoung stares at him listlessly, wondering why in the world he’s in the love with this man. “also, let me know which weekend you’re going.”

“you’re not buying the paint this time either.”

“we can split it. jinyoungie, you know i have too much to really know what to do with it.”

jinyoung scoffs. “wow, hyung.”

“i could spend it on you,” jaebum wiggles his eyebrows, “but i know that anything more than a good book and gift certificates, you’d probably choke me to death.”

“spend it on your mom,” jinyoung says, unimpressed. “when was the last time you bought her a present? do you even know what she likes? jewelry, a bag?”

jaebum deflates, settling back in his chair. a little ashamed, he chuckles, mumbling, “is that what moms like…?”

jinyoung throws his wax paper at him, unable to stop himself from being childish in jaebum’s presence. it’s like something about him sends jinyoung into this – this playful, attention-seeking, (dare he really admit it?) clingy person. “what’s the point of having a doctor for a son, then? and how am i supposed to know? just look up what women like to get as presents and buy her something.”

“shit, you’re right,” jaebum groans. “wait, could we do that now?”

“now?”

“mom said that we should come over to see her and dad for christmas,” jaebum puts out there, giving jinyoung a heart attack even though christmas is literally three weeks away. jinyoung opens his mouth slightly to ask whether or not it’d be okay to maybe even try making something (could he ask taeyong what’s appropriate to make?) before jaebum adds after, eyes down at his hands, almost shy– “you could probably bring hyunjin too. since he’s getting released next week.”

hyunjin’s medication and treatment had managed to bring him up to almost a full recovery, leaving him slightly anemic. it was the whole reason jinyoung had applied to be his adoptive father in the first place, knowing that hyunjin’s release was heading toward them at a quick pace. every day the little boy seemed to get a little bit happier.

but jaebum’s words throw jinyoung back to director park’s assumption of them. he knew that they were close, but to assume that they were in a relationship…and the fact that jinyoung hadn’t said anything to contradict his statement during the meeting with irene still hangs guilty over his head. jinyoung knows that he and jaebum tend to be a package: want one, you get the other, regardless of whether or not you want them. and jinyoung had been content with that, with being by jaebum’s side.

sometimes he’d wonder what it would be like, to receive kisses on his mouth from jaebum instead of the forehead or the cheek. sometimes he’d wonder what it would be like to bask in the intimacy that would settle between them on lazy sunday nights with the knowledge of their bond being more than it is now, that beyond friends and confidants, they were lovers. even the word in jinyoung’s brain makes his face heat up as if he were eighteen again instead of twenty eight. sometimes, he thinks he can guess the shape of jaebum’s mouth on his own, like it’s a part of a nostalgic dream.

and he knows he has to talk to jaebum about it. they both were present for director park’s words, and they both know what he insinuated. a slow, rolling feeling of guilt, of uncertainty, remains in jinyoung’s gut. because they gave off the impression of being a long term couple, irene had expedited the process of hyunjin’s adoption. because hyunjin would be getting two parents, like all children deserved.

jinyoung stares at the pile of presents jaebum had for hyunjin. yes, often times, they wouldn’t see each other with a patient. jinyoung saw hyunjin in hours that jaebum didn’t, so the opposite was possibly true as well. and jaebum – jinyoung knows that jaebum loves hyunjin too. he’s been good about hiding his feelings for the past few years, putting on a brave face for his juniors, his patients - but he can’t hide from jinyoung. jaebum adores that little boy.

and so having jinyoung at his parents’ house for christmas, even though jinyoung has been over thousands of times – has called it home for a better portion of his life – with hyunjin, with the little boy that would be his own, that jaebum also loves…

jinyoung ducks his gaze from jaebum, looking down at his half-finished sandwich. “that sounds nice,” he says, ignoring the way his face grows pink. “eomoni didn’t tell me anything about it.”

“she would have mentioned it you eventually. i think she likes you better than she likes me.”

“probably,” jinyoung smiles, thinking of the woman who, for all intents and purposes, is his mother. “which is why i’ll help you find a gift for – “ jinyoung is abruptly cut off by a finger at the corner of his mouth, wiping insistently at the creased pout of his bottom lip. jaebum pulls away, wiping his hand on a napkin, smiling crookedly. “sorry, you had some sauce on you. i couldn’t look at you without laughing.”

“oh,” jinyoung echoes, pressing a finger to the warmth at his mouth. he hates the way that he’s probably turning pink. recently, it’s been too difficult for jinyoung to control what had been so easy for him before, the overflow of feelings he’s had for jaebum since they were young. he wonders if it’s because of everything that’s happening, the way that they’ve been told, point blank, about how their relationship seems like to others. how jinyoung doesn’t have the heart to correct those assumptions. how he wouldn’t even try other than a token fight. how… he doesn’t want to.

jinyoung packs away the rest of the sandwich, smiling at jaebum. “like i was saying, i’m eomoni’s favorite, which is why i’ll graciously help you find a gift for her. i’m pretty sure you could get her this new perfume – she sent it to me over kakaotalk like a month ago to complain that abeoji didn’t buy it for her…” so busy with future plans and gathering all the things they’ve purchased, jinyoung barely sees jaebum’s dazed expression follow behind him at the sight of his full smile.

/

hours later, when it’s begun to shift into nighttime more insistently, jinyoung settles all their packages on the couch haphazardly and rubs his wrist. the collective weight of all the bags has left a red line on them that’s sure to bruise for tomorrow.

jaebum cracks his back and heads to jinyoung’s kitchen immediately, having bought himself some instant brew to keep in jinyoung’s place since he doesn’t have a coffee machine. jinyoung kicks off his shoes and brings his feet underneath his butt if only to keep them warm. he drags over a blanket strewn over the side of the couch, throwing it over his lap and opening up netflix on his tv.

“you’re not going to put anything away?” jaebum asks from the kitchen.

“later,” jinyoung sighs, getting comfy. “i need to not move for an hour or two.”

“hm,” jaebum comes by with a mug of coffee, steaming hot. he eyes all their bought things on the couch pats at jinyoung’s shoulder insistently. “come on, there’s nowhere else to sit.”

he’s not wrong, but jinyoung also doesn’t want to get up. “so? sit on the floor.”

but jaebum continues patting jinyoung until it becomes a rhythm on his shoulder. jinyoung pinches his wrist and jaebum groans, setting down his cup of coffee on the small table in front of them. he shoves himself into the crook between the couch’s arm and jinyoung, forcing the other to change his position in case he falls over onto their gifts for hyunjin and accidentally ruin something.

it leaves jinyoung sitting on top of jaebum’s lap angrily, tugging his hair in response. jaebum pulls the blanket up again, unnecessarily happy about being warm from jinyoung’s body heat, the coffee, and his favorite comforter. jinyoung swears that jaebum is the actual feline rather than his cats.

“hold this,” jaebum says, pushing his mug of coffee in jinyoung’s slender fingers. “that way you won’t get cold either.”

“we’re watching one of my dramas, and you’re not allowed to say no,” jinyoung starts switching to the one that he’s super into now – a drama about someone who can read minds. “that’s the rules of this house. you steal my spot, i steal the show.”

“always,” jaebum laughs, muffled into jinyoung’s shoulder. “can you please help me drink my coffee, your royal highness?”

jaebum’s hands, also cold from the weather outside and the lack of circulation from carrying around so much stuff, are currently bunched in the blankets. jinyoung rolls his eyes but complies, helping jaebum drink from the mug he always uses when over at jinyoung’s apartment. jaebum sighs, pleased.

at some point, jinyoung finds himself relaxing. jaebum’s arms wind their way around his waist to keep him from sliding off, and jinyoung rests his cheek against the top of jaebum’s head so he can watch in relative comfort. jaebum’s breath hits his collarbone every so often, and it’s comfortable, despite both of them still in clothes that shouldn’t be meant for cuddling.

“this show is stupid,” jaebum comments, watching as the male lead fights the second male lead in a back alley. “why are you even watching this?”

“you’re stupid,” with his eyes glued to the screen, jinyoung moves the mug up to jaebum’s lips again to physically quiet him down. “shush, we’re getting to the best part.”

/

jinyoung is running late. he’s running late and he hasn’t had his coffee because he spent an hour this morning trying to decide what set of clothes hyunjin would like to wear as he’s coming back from the hospital. jinyoung is running late and the clock is ticking and he’s packing four different shirts in case hyunjin doesn’t like one of them. jinyoung is going a little insane.

which is why he’s not surprised when he sees jaebum there in the morning, ringing his doorbell incessantly until jinyoung opens the door, frazzled, hair a complete mess. he stares at jaebum for exactly three seconds. “you know where the spare key to my apartment is.”

“i do,” jaebum acknowledges, “but i wanted you to open the door for me. take a deep breath. take five, actually.”

and suddenly, it’s like jinyoung can breathe. the tight, anxious feeling that’s been building up in his chest dissipates, and he reaches forward to grab onto jaebum’s wrist, desperately trying to ground himself.

“you’re going to be fine,” jaebum says, taking his face in both of his palms. he squishes jinyoung’s cheeks a little bit too roughly, making the other squirm uncomfortably. but jinyoung feels less like he’s going to go nuts. jaebum forces them to make eye contact, staring into jinyoung’s wide eyes without abandon. jinyoung, for a moment, is taken aback at how handsome jaebum really is. “look at me, jinyoungie. you’re going to be fine.”

“i’m going to be fine,” he repeats, following jaebum’s lead. “i’m going to be okay.”

“you’re going to bring home hyunjin today, and he’s going to love his room. he’s going to love being here with you.”

“okay,” jinyoung gulps in one breath after another, calming the clambering of his heart. “okay.”

“great,” jaebum pulls away gently. “now, tell me you’ve packed four outfits for him so i can shuck three out the door.”

jaebum’s taken the day off, apparently, to be able to drive jinyoung to the hospital and back. it’s a tiny detail that jinyoung is warmed by, as he had been planning to take a taxi home, but he won’t complain. the whole process is supposed to be quick, since hyunjin’s doctor is currently grabbing the to-go bag jinyoung’s prepared for hyunjin, and jinyoung knows more than enough about hyunjin’s still lingering medical issues. but hyunjin is coming home with him. hyunjin is coming home.

“thanks, hyung,” jinyoung says as he climbs into the passenger seat of jaebum’s car. he has to do a double take when a large, bulky seat catches his eye. flabbergasted, jinyoung turns to jaebum, whose cheeks are pink. “you…”

“car seats are required for kids under nine,” jaebum says defensively.

this, of all things, is what makes jinyoung laugh.

jinyoung waves hello to the nurses on shift as he sees them, bowing first and leaving a small gift of sweet bread on the counter for the nurses to have in celebration. to make sure none of the attendings get their sticky paws on it (aka jackson), jinyoung writes a post it note forbidding the hong kong native away. jaebum gets hissed at too, and jinyoung makes another note to mention this is for the nurses only with a flourish of his name at the bottom. jihyo sends him a thumbs up from where she’s currently eating a piece.

jaebum follows behind him as jinyoung gets lead by sana, who greets them both cheerfully. jaebum looks down at himself as if he can’t believe that he’s actually here without his scrubs – a feeling jinyoung knows all too well. at hyunjin’s door, jinyoung takes a deep breath before gathering up the courage to knock.

“nyoung!”

“hyunjinnie,” jinyoung smiles, kneeling down to greet the boy who literally jumps into his arms. he’s still in his hospital clothes, a state that jinyoung will be changing soon enough.

“dr. im is here too!”

“hi, kiddo,” jaebum greets, reaching forward to ruffle hyunjin’s hair. “wow, you’re going to need a haircut, you know that?”

hyunjin is scurried away to change into the clothes jinyoung brought for him – which he loves, jinyoung really shouldn’t have doubted, hyunjin’s the sweetest kid he’s ever met – and jaebum signs off a couple more things that sana gives him. jinyoung signs the release forms in the meanwhile.

when hyunjin slips his hand into jinyoung’s, they smile at each other. tucked in one hand is jinyoung’s old copy of le petit prince. “i’m ready to go!”

“yeah?” jinyoung says, moving his hand out. “you’re bringing that old thing with you?”

“yeah,” hyunjin replies shyly. strangely, he looks pink cheeked at jaebum, who only coughs and smiles. jinyoung stares between the both of them suspiciously before rolling his eyes. “it’s my favorite.”

“it’s my favorite too,” jaebum says solemnly, ignoring the way jinyoung shoots him a look.

“okay, keep your secrets,” jinyoung sighs, but outstretches his hand anyway. hyunjin trips a little in his haste, but wraps one tiny hand around jinyoung’s finger. to all of their surprise, hyunjin reaches over to take jaebum’s finger in the other. the expression on jaebum’s face, stripped raw and quiet, takes jinyoung aback for a moment. they meet eyes, and jaebum smiles. jinyoung opens his mouth to ask if something is wrong, but shakes his head.

“let’s go home,” jinyoung says instead, tugging hyunjin out the door, who makes sure jaebum is following along.

Chapter Text

hyunjin likes spicy food.

it comes as a surprise, because he’d eaten the bland hospital fare with such gusto, but jinyoung should have known better. hyunjin likes the flavor, the taste, and doesn’t mind when jinyoung accidentally adds too much spice to their noodles, or accidentally pours sesame oil, or hasn’t let the kimchi ferment enough. jinyoung is struggling with getting the kimchi recipe right, often adding too much or too little of something. sometimes he burns food, sometimes he forgets to cook and just orders out - but hyunjin doesn’t mind.

he likes his room too, the first day they take him home and show him his new space. he jumps on his bed immediately, laughing, sleeves pushed up to his elbows so jinyoung can see the tiny pinpricks of needle scars littering his arm. he settles his books into the bookshelf immediately, rolls around in his bed, and gives jinyoung the biggest hug for giving him a room of his own. he especially likes the little windowsill that’s been covered in pillows and blankets. jinyoung knew he would.

hyunjin had said, one day, “these blocks are so cool!” while pointing to the oddly shaped ones on the floor of his room, his new favorite place, and tracing the emoji shapes.

jinyoung had smiled, sitting cross legged in a corner to read a book, and said, “doctor im bought those for you.”

since then, hyunjin has taken to mulling over the dinner table, the couch, the bathroom in the morning – “when is doctor im comin’ back?” and jinyoung can’t say anything to those big, sad eyes.

he’s taken an extended vacation to take care of hyunjin for the first few weeks, just until the new year. he has a kindergarten set up and ready for hyunjin to attend after the turn of the year, coinciding perfectly with his shifts. jinyoung will be able to take the bus route home and pick hyunjin up at the same time. they’re already gotten some books for him, carefully reading through them before classes are due to start, and hyunjin is excited to read with jinyoung even if he isn’t looking forward to school all that much.

since he isn’t available, yugyeom and bambam take it upon themselves to give jinyoung constant hour by hour updates that he definitely did not ask for. one would think that they would get tired of it after the first week, but the messages are still going strong. jinyoung plans murder in his free time for the phone bill that will inevitably come in that month. mark and jackson have dropped by a couple of times to introduce themselves to hyunjin, happy to be uncles, bringing snacks and toys as gifts. but hyunjin’s favorite, jaebum, hasn’t been able to take much time off due to his heavy schedule.

“i miss doctor im,” hyunjin says, curled up next to jinyoung as they watch moana. hyunjin is still all sleepy, but he’s clingy with jinyoung, not wanting to let him out of his sight for any little thing. almost as if he’s scared that if he blinks, jinyoung won’t be there anymore, and this will all be a dream. “when’s he comin’ back?”

so jinyoung texts jaebum, asking him to show his face once in a while, why doesn’t he, and jaebum sends him a picture of nora. jinyoung sends him a picture of hyunjin, sleeping in a little ball next to jinyoung. that’s right, jinyoung thinks triumphantly, i also have someone cute to send photos of when i don’t want to answer something.

it’s around an hour later, jinyoung still watching the movie even though hyunjin has long fallen asleep, that his doorbell rings. jaebum is standing on the other side, ruffled but grinning wide and roguishly handsome.

“i brought chicken,” he shakes the box of greasy, heavenly smelling food in front of jinyoung as a peace offering. “now, where’s the kiddo?”

“nice to see you too, hyung,” jinyoung says sarcastically, but takes the chicken with his cardigan sleeves pulled over his fingers so they don’t burn from the warmth of the box. he has to admit, jaebum bringing chicken – arguably jinyoung’s favorite food in the history of ever – sweetens any grumpiness he’d been ready to throw his way. “and he’s sleeping, don’t bother him.”

jinyoung sets the food out in the kitchen and steals a bite or two. it’s still warm and crispy, just how he likes it. he watches lazily as jaebum strokes hyunjin’s bangs, unconsciously smiling at the way hyunjin breathes through his nose while he sleeps and curls his fingers underneath his cheek. jinyoung can relate; hyunjin is unbearably adorable when he naps.

“he looks healthy,” jaebum sidles up next to jinyoung to steal the piece of chicken right from his fingers. “and like he gained some weight. that’s really good news. hopefully he’ll be able to grow a little bit more once he gets to school. is the kindergarten letting you pack food for him?”

hyunjin will need to be careful about what he eats for a while, since he tends to get sick easily. this means jinyoung will either have to buy food for him or pack lunches, even though he can’t control the sicknesses the other will inevitably get from the other kids.

“yeah,” jinyoung’s fingers already ache. “he likes the shitty food i make, strangely.”

“hey, i think you’re getting better,” jaebum pokes his side. “and the fact that you’re trying hard for him… kids notice that kind of thing, too. that probably makes everything taste good.”

“sure,” jinyoung snorts, but the sentiment is warming.

“don’t eat all of it,” jaebum pulls jinyoung’s fingers away from another piece of chicken, redirecting it into his own mouth. “c’mon, i brought this for me too.”

jaebum comes a bit too close, causing jinyoung to wrinkle his nose. “jeez, you need a shower. you smell like sweat and organs.”

“the scent of a life saver.”

“go shower,” jinyoung points to his bathroom. “i have some of your clothes here, i’ll pull them out for you.”

“thank you,” jaebum groans, already pulling off his shirt to take a much needed rinse in jinyoung’s tiny bathroom.

he nibbles on a couple more pieces of chicken before setting them aside. he brings out a dinner plate since jinyoung is trying to be more of a functional adult, but he almost drops it twice. by the time jinyoung is placing pieces of chicken carefully on the plate, second guessing himself with the number of pieces (and what kind of pieces) that he wants to give jaebum, the other is already walking into jinyoung’s living room and dripping water everywhere.

“hyung,” jinyoung starts disapprovingly, because if there’s one thing he’s gotten down at the very least, it’s being clean. his organizational skills outside of his job has a lot left to be desired, but jinyoung can’t stand dust.

“sorry, jinyoungie,” jaebum says sheepishly, knowing very well that this is one of jinyoung’s pet peeves that drives him absolutely insane. what’s worse, though, is when jaebum throws the towel that had been drying his hair to the floor, nudging it slightly with his toe.

“hyung!”

jaebum laughs, reaching down to grab the towel before jinyoung can reach him. their scuffle is a little loud and childish, jinyoung grasping the other’s shirt at jaebum’s broad shoulders to jump on his back and wrestle him into a headlock. jaebum chokes a little, but retaliates by shaking his hair and getting water all over jinyoung’s face. they stumble as one unit before jaebum’s palms find their way beneath jinyoung’s knees to steady him.

“do that again, i dare you im jaebum,” jinyoung bares his teeth, tightening his hold a little to wretch jaebum’s head back. the curve of it knocks against jinyoung’s collarbones.

“you’re going to put it in the laundry anyways,” jaebum says hoarsely, pinching jinyoung at the soft skin behind his knees. it’s sharp and painful, making jinyoung kick him in reflex. “you’re worse than my cats, jinyoungie.”

“you – “

“nyoung…?”

hyunjin peeks at them over the couch where he had been dozing a moment earlier, his hair sticking up every which way. his cheek has couch patterns on it. jinyoung muffles a little scream in jaebum’s hair, who chortles at his inability to ignore how cute hyunjin is.

“put me down,” jinyoung smacks at jaebum’s upper chest, removing him from his choke hold. he doesn’t exactly want to be violent in front of his lovely, innocent son. (his son!) “hyunjinnie, doctor im got us chicken!”

“chick’n?” hyunjin yawns sleepily. “i wan’ soup…”

“don’t call me doctor im,” jaebum suddenly wretches jinyoung forward, causing him to bump closer against jaebum’s back. his hands move from behind his knees to his upper thighs. not an inch of jinyoung isn’t touching jaebum’s slowly warming shirt, his cheek pressed against the back of the other’s head. “bum-hyung is fine, hyunjinnie, remember? i’m not your doctor here, okay?”

“okay,” hyunjin says, beginning to wake up and look excited. “piggyback! i wan’ piggyback too!”

jinyoung pats insistently at jaebum’s chest, moving forward to pinch his nose and cheeks. he can’t see the other’s face, but it must be funny enough for hyunjin to break out into squealing peals of laughter and fall over, out of sight, on the couch.

jaebum deposits jinyoung on the cough next to hyunjin with an easy, almost careless flourish, causing jinyoung to bounce a little before he settles. jaebum reaches for hyunjin almost immediately, holding the tyke by his waist before turning him over and wrenching him over his left shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“the world is upside down!” hyunjin cries, his bangs flapping away from his face as he throws his arms out. jinyoung, still catching his breath, laughs.

jaebum pats hyunjin’s soft stomach. “dinner time,” he announces, marching over to the kitchen. jinyoung watches them go and folds his arms over the edge of the couch, fond smile on his face.

/

“are you excited, hyunjinnie?” jinyoung asks, buttoning up hyunjin’s new wool, allergy-resistant coat. he’s combed hyunjin’s hair four times today, styling it the way jinyoung does so often to himself; bangs swooped to the side, handsomely framing his chubby cheeks. hyunjin had seen jinyoung do his full skin care routine for the last couple of days so he wouldn’t look crusty for their time at the im house, leading him to stand stubbornly by jinyoung’s side and wash his own face with water.

when jinyoung put on some concealer to hide his dark circles and tint to cover the paleness of his mouth with the set of winter, hyunjin vehemently asked for the same treatment. jinyoung thought he looked unbearably cute, wiping excess tint onto his cheeks and nose for a red rouged air that made jinyoung want to squeeze him to death.

hyunjin even wanted to copy jinyoung’s clothes, wanting to wear a similar white button down and blue sweater with poofy sleeves. jinyoung had to get him to settle with promises of finding a sweater just like his own (which would be difficult, as jaebum’s mother had given him this sweater, the main reason why he was wearing it now) and a similar powder blue sweater vest to go over his tiny white and blue pinstripe button down. he hadn’t fought on the jeans, since jinyoung had been wearing them, or the black and white converse shoes. jinyoung didn’t care what anyone else said or thought of them. he and hyunjin were matching.

standing outside of the im family house, running eyes up and down jaebum’s similar blue shirt, opened at the collar to show off a silver chain. hyunjin peers through the layers of clothes jinyoung had piled on him, including a cat-eared green hat, a pair of black earmuffs, and jinyoung’s own muffler wrapped around his neck and covering his nose when jinyoung realized that he had left hyunjin’s at home on the bus.

“bumji!” hyunjin says, muffled, leaning out of jinyoung’s arms to reach for jaebum.

jaebum takes him easily, grinning at jinyoung before frowning. “where’s your scarf?”

“don’t start with me,” jinyoung warns, closing the door behind him. he stomps off the light dust of snow on his shoulders and beneath his feet, glad that his converse aren’t soaked. jaebum waits patiently as jinyoung takes off hyunjin’s shoes for him, rubbing at his baby’s ankles. when he straightens himself from placing their shoes (and jaebum’s shoes, why doesn’t he ever straighten his shoes?) at the front, jinyoung’s eyes catch a familiar woven cloth.

“looks like it’s right here,” he deadpans, running his hand under the gray scarf that jinyoung had lent jaebum ages ago. “i thought nora had – “

“time to go meet your halmeoni,” jaebum says loudly, cutting jinyoung off. with one hand, jaebum undoes hyunjin’s zipper and slides away all his excess padding. “are you excited, hyunjin?”

hyunjin stares at jinyoung, then turns back to jaebum, who pinches his red cheek and then his red mouth. “bumji’s mama?”

so he was saying ‘bumji’, jinyoung thinks to himself, hanging his coat at the closet. it hadn’t been something else? what happened to bum-hyung?

“yes,” jaebum says, kissing his forehead, “my mom. jinyoungie’s eomoni.”

that. that just sounds like – that just sounds –

“bumji’s dad too?” hyunjin chirps, bouncing a little in jaebum’s arms like a little bird. jinyoung hopes that his good mood lasts the entire night, since he’s becoming somewhat familiar with hyunjin’s swinging moods. he’s not always a happy, bubbly child. “like hyunjinnie’s appa?”

and that. that’s also sounds like –

jaebum turns to him, smiling softly at the way jinyoung looks helplessly at them both. “yes. my dad, too. they’ll love you.”

of course they would, jinyoung thinks as jaebum’s mother greets him first, rushing him into a hug that forces him to reach down so she can hold him tightly and kiss his face. of course they would love hyunjin, because jinyoung knows first hand how much love jaebum’s parents have to give. jaebum’s father chuckles and brings jinyoung in for a hug. his shoulders are as broad as jaebum’s, if not broader, and he smells spicy and warm, the way jinyoung has always thought a father should smell like. he settles into it easily, letting abeoji run a hand through his hair fondly and place a kiss on his forehead.

“you never come by anymore, jinyoung-ah,” eomoni twitters, pushing her husband away. “look at you, you’ve gotten skinnier! is jaebum not taking care of you? has my foolish son been buying you food?”

“he buys me lots of food, eomoni,” jinyoung assures her while jaebum whines in the background (“mom, dad, why do you always love jinyoung more than me?”). jinyoung smiles. “i brought someone to meet you, eomoni, abeoji.”

hyunjin is shy, hiding in the crook of jaebum’s neck. eomoni is the one that reaches out first, her smile kind, her hands shaking a little. she settles her fingers on hyunjin’s hand, covering it with her own.

“hyunjinnie,” she begins, “it’s so nice to meet you, sweetie. i’m your halmeoni.”

“halme,” hyunjin mumbles, looking at her with wide eyes.

“halme,” she repeats, brushing aside a lock of his hair the way jinyoung does. it’s a startling similarity that hits jinyoung dumbstruck. when eomoni pinches his cheek, pressings their palms flat together, jinyoung sees the similarities again. he supposes, though, if there was anyone that he’d want to emulate as a parent, it would be jaebum’s mother. “i made all your favorite foods. your appa told me everything you like!”

hyunjin looks at jinyoung, as if in permission, and jinyoung just nods encouragingly at him.

it takes no time at all for him to get used to the love and spoiling that jaebum’s parents descend on hyunjin. it’s almost like with the presence of the new baby, jinyoung and jaebum are completely forgotten in the dust. jinyoung doesn’t know who he’s more jealous of: eomoni for holding all of hyunjin’s attention, or hyunjin for holding all of eomoni’s.

“now you know how i feel whenever you’re in the room,” jaebum sighs dramatically when he sees jinyoung huffing. “they always used to forget i existed when their nicer, prettier son was around.”

“shut up,” jinyoung says, hoping the redness high on his cheeks can be attributed to the cold. “that’s not true.”

“my mom kissed you in four places when you came in through the door. she only kissed my cheek after she saw me after a month!”

“maybe you should call her more, then.”

“jinyoungie,” jaebum begins beseechingly, ignoring the way jinyoung’s lips twitch into a smile.

their house isn’t decorated for christmas, but jaebum’s parents have bought them a cake regardless. hyunjin loves the fawning he gets, his cheek turning a genuine shy pink under the excess color he’d asked for. eomoni smooths his hair down the same way jinyoung does, which soothes hyunjin greatly, and abeoji gently rocks him in his lap while letting hyunjin play with the rings on his fingers.

jinyoung feels more comfortable letting hyunjin out of his sight. he’s been a mess in the mornings just having hyunjin sleep in a different room. it’ll be a different fight to feel comfortable letting hyunjin go to school.

eomoni has made all of their favorites. jinyoung, with his new found interest in cooking, takings more kimchi than normal to try and pinpoint what exactly is different about hers compared to his own. if she notices, she doesn’t comment on it out loud.

despite not being very religious, jinyoung has bought gifts for them anyway. for abeoji, he has a new sturdy jacket that will keep him warm; for eomoni, jinyoung’s saved up to buy her a simple diamond bracelet. they both love their gifts amongst twitters of you - ! jinyoung-ah, why did you spend so much money? you have a little boy to look after! that leaves jinyoung feeling warm and loved.

eomoni pinches jaebum’s ear and blames him for the gifts she’s gotten from jinyoung, leading the elder to very childishly whine that jinyoung makes his own decisions, do you think he listens to anything i say, mom?!

“bumji is funny,” hyunjin giggles, stuffing himself with cake. he’s the one to blow it out too, watching with shining eyes as everyone sang and clapped around him. “his mama pinch him!”

“like this?” jinyoung pinches hyunjin’s white cheek, pulling away to lick at his frosting covered finger.

“ewww,” hyunjin says, before climbing over to settle into jinyoung’s lap. “i like here.”

“yeah?” jinyoung says softly, inhaling the scent of his baby shampoo. “i’m glad, hyunjinnie.”

“thank you,” hyunjin mumbles, humming along with the song on the television screen. his coated, sticky fingers reach up to curl into jinyoung’s shirt, but he can’t find himself to care.

that’s how jaebum finds them a couple of moments later, settling down beside jinyoung and pressing their knees together. like he can’t help himself, jaebum reaches for hyunjin’s cheek. the child gives a small, tired giggle.

“someone’s sleepy,” jaebum remarks, smoothing over the mark he makes rich after pinching hyunjin’s other cheek.

“no i’m not,” hyunjin argues, showing jaebum a fist to demonstrate his might. “i’m not sleepy!”

eomoni is holding in a laugh from the doorway. jinyoung feels as though he’s currently floating, somewhere outside of his body, watching from the inside in. he’s warm, sated, surrounded by the people he loves and who love him back. he’s happy, on a cloud nine that’s never stopping to wait.

“stay the night,” eomoni suggests, waving a hand toward the dark hallway behind her. “we have plenty of space, jinyoung-ah. and it’s cold outside; jaebum will give you a ride home tomorrow, or your abeoji will.”

“okay,” jinyoung agrees readily. he presses a kiss against hyunjin’s hair, who mumbles something into the fabric of his sweater, wiping his dirty face on jinyoung. “could i get some clothes, too?”

“mom, i’ll help clean up,” jaebum offers, pulling jinyoung up by his elbow.

he manages to wrangle hyunjin into the bathroom to wash his face and hands, taking off his pants and top. eomoni brings one of jaebum’s shirts from when he was a child, pointedly not looking at jinyoung’s raised eyebrows of surprise, before hurrying out of the bathroom while tittering at her husband. jinyoung smooths the cloth over hyunjin’s tiny shoulders, marveling how it reaches toward his knees. he’ll need to have extra blankets to stay warm, jinyoung thinks. he helps hyunjin brush his teeth and wash his face before bed too.

routine is what helps kids, jinyoung thinks. routine, a sense of safety, a bit of laughter. trust, warmth, home. that’s what he aims to give the children in the ward every day – but that’s also what he wants to give hyunjin all the time, as much as he can, for as long as he can.

“stay,” hyunjin mumbles, gripping the edge of jinyoung’s shirt after he pulls away from hyunjin’s good-night kiss. “please don’t go.”

jinyoung doesn’t know what his heart is doing right now. his chest feels tight. “i won’t,” he whispers. “hyunjinnie, i won’t leave.”

and he doesn’t, standing in that half kneeling position until his legs hurt, watching as hyunjin’s breathing evens out. the dim glow of the dusty yellow lamp in jinyoung’s old room casts a golden shadow over hyunjin’s pink face. he’s happy, healthy. he’s grown half a centimeter since living with jinyoung. his fingers hold on so, so tight, with a strength that jinyoung didn’t think was possible for him. eventually, he kneels down fully and settles his head against the edge of the bed. he gently pulls hyunjin’s fingers away from his shirt and curls them over his index finger instead.

jinyoung falls into a strange trance of sleep, the way he does sometimes when he’s attempting to stay awake. it’s a moot point, but his body is so comfortable at this twisted ankle, even though his joints will complain in the morning. he wants cover hyunjin in a proper blanket, he wants to tell jaebum’s parents good night, he wants to make sure that jaebum isn’t going to finish all the leftovers and that he’s given his mom the present they picked out together.

he does none of these things. instead, he chooses to let himself sink.

someone must come in, because the door creaks. jinyoung wants to open his eyes and see who it is, but he’s drifting too far away now, and everything sounds like it’s coming through a tunnel.

“oh my,” eomoni’s soft voice remarks. “won’t his knees hurt?”

“jinyoung always sleeps in odd positions,” jaebum sighs, put-upon. it’s true, jinyoung finds himself comfortable in the weirdest of ways. “it’s fine, i can carry him back up. i’m used to it.”

eomoni hums at that, choosing to say nothing. jinyoung hears them come closer, footsteps soft on his carpet. he feels someone’s hand on his forehead. it’s too broad to be eomoni’s, so it must be jaebum.

“oh, how precious,” eomoni breathes, before sighing softly. “hyunjin has some separation anxiety, doesn’t he? you did too, as a child.”

“it’s normal,” jaebum replies quietly, “he’s trying to hold onto whatever familiarity he can. lots of kids tend to get it after spending time at the hospital, or even after being sick.”

eomoni sighs agains, as if exasperated by her son. “i didn’t ask doctor im about how children react to stress,” his mother chides. gentler, she continues, “i was telling hyunjin’s father that his son might want his parents to sleep with him.”

a brief pause. jinyoung shuffles a little, wanting to wake up, but his limbs feel too heavy. jaebum’s palm moves from his forehead to his hair, digging his fingers in to the roots. he rarely does this, jinyoung thinks. jaebum likes it better when jinyoung plays with his hair, and for good reason, if this is how it feels like.

“i’m not – mom, i’m not.”

“oh, baby. if you think for one second both of them don’t love you as much as you love them, you’re blind. and i didn’t raise an ignorant son.”

“mom,” jaebum chokes out. “please.”

“you should tell him,” eomoni starts, sounding distant, “what are you so scared of, baby?”

“losing this,” jaebum says, and jinyoung drifts away.

/

when jinyoung wakes, it’s to hyunjin curled up against his armpit. he’s a heavy feeling against his side, with tiny toes pressed against his hip. jinyoung groans at the stuffiness inside his brain, noting that he’s still in the clothes that he had come in, down to the socks. a moment later, he turns to the other heavy weight on his opposite side, putting him in the middle of two warm bodies.

jaebum’s forehead is pressed against the nape of his neck, an arm thrown across the dip of his waist. his fingers brush gently across hyunjin’s bum, where jinyoung thinks he was probably patting before he’d fallen asleep. jaebum’s hair is a crazy mess, tickling whatever spare inch of skin it reaches, and he’s snoring.

jinyoung turns to stare at his features and feels like he’s missing something. there’s a faint impression that jaebum had been with him last night, but he can’t remember. it’s all hazy, but it feels like something jinyoung should recall. it frustrates him that the details are fuzzy, because it feels important.

hyunjin yawns, settling more toward his side, and jinyoung brushes a lock of his hair away to kiss his forehead.

“appa,” hyunjin mumbles, curling hands into his shirt. “morning.”

“morning,” jinyoung greets, his voice hoarse. “are you hungry, hyunjinnie?”

hyunjin mumbles something in return, snuggling in deeper. jinyoung smiles despite himself. unfortunately, when he moves, he ends up squishing jaebum just a little bit. they’re a mess of tangled limbs, knees, and the ever-present wall of jaebum’s wide shoulders that always seem to get in the way. jaebum grows, startling awake, and the sound of his pained groan as jinyoung accidentally elbows him makes hyunjin sleepily giggle.

“that’s what you get for being clingy,” jinyoung says, a bit cross.

“hyunjinnie,” jaebum groans, “your appa is so mean to me.”

“appa is nice,” hyunjin argues, waking up a little bit more as his eyes start sparkling, little chipmunk he is. “abeoji is the one that’s mean!”

jinyoung feels like the wind has been knocked out of him.

but jaebum just mumbles something and rolls over, taking the sheets off of jinyoung to make himself a burrito. the sudden cold is a welcome to the burn at his ears and the following heat that shoots through his veins.

“hyunjinnie,” jinyoung croaks out, clearing his throat, “lets – lets wash our face, okay?”

it comes to him while he’s helping hyunjin brush his teeth after stealing a pair of jaebum’s pajamas. bumji, jinyoung thinks. jaebum-abeoji.

hyunjin rinses his mouth the way jinyoung taught him to, dutifully sloshing the water in mouth a couple times before spitting it out in the sink. as soon as he’s done, jinyoung kneels to his level and wipes his face with a towelette. he asks, “when did you start calling jaebum-hyung abeoji, huh?”

“he’s hyunjin’s abeoji,” hyunjin argues, wrapping his arms around jinyoung’s neck to place a wet kiss on his cheek. “because he loves appa and loves me, so he’s part of our family, and he’s my abeoji.”

“ah, hyunjin-ah, that’s not how it works,” he tries to be gentle.

hyunjin frowns. “but bumji said it was okay! it was okay if it was our secret,” he mumbles, looking at jinyoung with wide watery eyes. “because abeoji didn’t want to make appa mad. but appa loves us too!”

“okay,” jinyoung says, inhales to stave off the coming panic, and tries not to – to feel, to get hyunjin to stop before he barrels into the tenderest part of jinyoung that he’s spent half a lifetime hiding away. “okay, hyunjin – that’s, that’s enough.”

they plan to go home the next morning after jaebum finishes washing the dishes, but it quickly falls short. abeoji – jaebum’s father, not jaebum (god hyunjin called him abeoji – his son, his son called jaebum abeoji - ) makes them korean pancakes for a savory breakfast. hyunjin calls it the best thing he’s ever tasted, puffing his cheeks out while he stuffs his face with greasy fingers. abeoji laughs when jinyoung turns to stare at him imploringly.

“ask my son to make it for you,” abeoji says, patting jaebum on one broad shoulder. between the two of them standing around in the kitchen, there’s no room for jinyoung or eomoni to squeeze in with their broad backs. “i’m sure he’s made it for himself on one too many rough mornings, hm?”

“dad,” jaebum hisses, flicking him with soapy water, “not in front of jinyoung!”

“why? it isn’t like jinyoung hasn’t been hungover before.”

“what’s hungover?” hyunjin prattles. jinyoung shushes him and tells him to finish eating the pancakes that hanabeoji made for him.

“besides,” abeoji chuckles, “shouldn’t you be saying ‘not in front of hyunjin’?”

“i’m hyunjin!” the child whose name is hyunjin chirps.

“im hyunjin?” eomoni says, cooing at him. hyunjin giggles, even if he doesn’t fully understand the meaning behind eomoni’s pointed teasing. “come to halme, baby, before your daddy says you can’t have any of this candy.”

“mom,” jaebum groans, while jinyoung sniffles indignantly, “don’t give him candy!”

/

they end up planning to leave the day before new years, despite wanting to only stay for a couple days over christmas. each time jinyoung thinks of leaving, jaebum’s parents do something soft, sweet, thoughtful toward hyunjin that tugs at his heartstrings and reminds him of all that he owes them for taking him in as if he were their own child. he can never repay the ims for more than a roof over his head and their financial support. abeoji and eomoni didn’t have to love him, but they did.

for many years, jinyoung didn’t know why. he would look at jaebum’s parents and wonder how they could stand having another person’s child in their home, sleeping between their halls, but when he looks at hyunjin – well, jinyoung understands better. sometimes blood isn’t enough to make family. sometimes all it takes is conviction.

he would bleed for hyunjin any day, and to think that jinyoung feels this way about a child he has met only recently frightens him. the depth of his own capability to love frightens him.

so jinyoung stays, simmers in the strange tete-a-tete he has going on with jaebum, lets the im parents coddle him and his son both. hyunjin loves it, of course, delves into the spoiling as if it’s second nature. jinyoung is a bit stranger to it, having never gotten used to it in the first place. sometimes, when he meets jaebum’s eyes across the counter top, jinyoung thinks that he can see them in the same space – same color scheme, same background noise – in ten, twenty, thirty years.

jinyoung’s heartbeat thrums loudly in his veins, the way it hasn’t since they were just eighteen and jinyoung just figured out what it meant to miss someone who is right next to you.

he can’t help it. he’s always known jaebum’s character: an intense man, but sweet and caring underneath an admittedly rough exterior. he’s never managed to gain the same kind of grace that jinyoung had been born with, the innate sensitivity that had been cultivated by the influence of his older sisters and mother, but his hands manage the fine motility required by a prodigious surgeon all the same. he has the excitability and wonder of a young boy, alongside the gentle but firm voice of a man who knows himself after years of searching.

jinyoung is reminded of just how accomplished jaebum is whenever he sees pictures of his best friend framed on the wall; his medical degree and then his doctorate, hanging next to glossy images of jaebum holding jinyoung mid-hug at his graduation. at that point in time, jinyoung had graduated just two years prior from his nursing program. they’re staring at each other, lost in their own world. jinyoung must have seen this pictures thousands of times; he’s grown up with it, had it as the tasteful background of every motion picture movement of his life. but today, right now, it all feels new. he thinks about his son (his son!) calling jaebum “abeoji”, thinks about his own family, and suddenly the pictures show him something he’s never seen before.

it’s strange to think of how large his presence is in this house. he’s never been ambitious like jaebum, content to stay on the sidelines and live a quiet, homebody life. he likes working with kids, the quiet of autumn and spring, and being comfortable. he doesn’t need accolades; he just likes helping people. he likes following jaebum’s lead, trusting with utmost certainty that he will never lead jinyoung astray.

that had been why the first place jinyoung appeared after he had lost his home was at jaebum’s front door. perhaps it had been meant to be that way from the beginning. perhaps there was no other way they were meant to happen. in his gratefulness, he swore never to tell jaebum about his tumbling, helpless adoration that grew into exasperation at jaebum’s faults, indignation when he was wronged, and wistful longing as they painfully grew up, and then grew older.

and he thought that would be it. he would remain at jaebum’s side, even when the other got married and moved on to his own family. jinyoung never thought about falling out of love. jinyoung never imagined stumbling into another. he didn’t think he would ever have children or a family of his own, but here he is.

“we have one more addition,” jaebum voice says, suddenly close, leaning over jinyoung’s shoulder to place a picture of the five of them sitting on the couch just a couple days back. “went out to get this developed. mom wanted me to put it here before i drive us home.”

home. us, plural. jinyoung stares at the image of hyunjin’s sweet, grinning face, his eyes like bright stars. his mouth is sort of shaped like jinyoung’s, but he has fox-like eyes like jaebum. how does he look like them? the strange thrum in jinyoung’s veins starts up again. he feels eighteen years old around jaebum. jinyoung can’t stop staring at the photos.

the other doesn’t pull away or step back, even as jinyoung cranes his head to look at him. they’re the same height, jaebum a smidge taller, but jinyoung always feels small when jaebum goes in for a hug. when he’s so close that jinyoung wants to do nothing else but melt and wish that the warmth could remain forever.

“it’s a pretty picture,” jinyoung admits, reaching out to run fingers over hyunjin’s smile. he pointedly doesn’t look at the other people in the picture, the ones that really catch his breath. “did you print me one too?”

“no,” jaebum says quietly, watching him. waiting for jinyoung’s reaction, he realizes. “if you want to look at it, you have to come by physically to see it. mom’s rules.”

jinyoung’s mouth flickers up into a smile. “manipulative and sweet. sounds like eomoni.”

jaebum huffs out a laugh in turn, his breath warm on jinyoung’s cheek. this is the part where jinyoung turns back around, they continue to stare at the pictures on the wall and on top of the tv stand. where they talk about high school, reminisce about stupid things they’ve done over the year, jaebum fond and nostalgic while jinyoung replies sharp and teasing in turns. but he doesn’t do that. because this isn’t like the other times.

because this time, he’s looking straight at the jaebum in the photo, who is the only person not smiling straight at the camera. instead, he’s smiling at jinyoung, his head tilted, a long arm around jinyoung’s shoulders, and jinyoung is willing to bet that he’s turned to jinyoung when he hasn’t been looking thousands of times before. in fact, he has photographical proof.

“jinyoungie?” jaebum asks, questioning. his hands reach forward to rest themselves on jinyoung’s hips, as if to steady him. jinyoung realizes that he’s taken a step back, swaying a little on his feet.

“jaebum,” jinyoung begins. no hyung, no im jaebum! just... jaebum. “hyunjin called you abeoji.”

jaebum stiffens, almost like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. this close, jinyoung recalls all the notes of jaebum’s face that he’s catalogued before. his nose bridge, his thin mouth, his twin eye moles. he looks nervous now, unable to meet jiinyoung’s eyes. “i – well, i tried to get him to call me hyung, but it felt so strange since you also… and he just started that, i told him to call me something else – “ the creation of ‘bumji’, no doubt. the little secret that they kept before leaving the hospital room. “ – but he’s a kid. he slips up.”

“jaebum,” jinyoung begins, “jaebum-hyung.”

“jinyoung, i swear – it really doesn’t – i mean it means something, yeah, but you’re hyunjin’s appa first and foremost, he loves you more than anything else in the world. even when we’re together he talks about you, how he wants to see you, sometimes he cries for you – “

“director park thought we were together,” jinyoung interrupts, turning around so that they’re face to face now. jinyoung steps closer to him. “he thought we were getting married. that’s why hyunjin is here, because he thought both of us would be there for him. because he assumed we were getting married. because he thought we were together, as a couple, not as friends.”

jaebum just looks at him, helpless.

“and you never told him different, that we weren’t together like that,” jinyoung whispers, meeting his eyes. he’s worried that if he speaks any louder, he might spook jaebum away, even though the fear is baseless; jaebum, for all that jinyoung has tried to shield himself against it as an inevitable outcome, has never left jinyoung’s side. “not even once. in five years, not even once.”

“jinyoungie,” jaebum starts, before he raises his hands to cup jinyoung’s face, bringing them together in a stilted, jerking motion.

jaebum’s mouth is warm, insistent, familiar on jinyoung’s own. he kisses like a dying, starving man, pressing against jinyoung as if he can’t bear to be away. jinyoung anchors them both by twisting his fingers into jaebum’s shirt, holding his footing well enough so they’re not crashing into all the images. jaebum doesn’t let him breathe, unable to let go for even a moment. almost like if he pulls away, jinyoung will disappear from his grasp. which is a silly, ridiculous notion – as if jinyoung would ever leave jaebum’s side, either.

it takes an insistent, pleading noise to slip out of jinyoung’s mouth for jaebum to pull back so jinyoung can breathe, an ugly, splotchy blush overtaking his features. “jinyoung,” jaebum whispers, and his eyes are wide and reverent, his shoulders hunch in as if he’s trying to make himself smaller, to be on jinyoung’s level. jaebum, who has always flown farther and wider than jinyoung could ever hope to reach, only ever wishing to be able to see him from the ground. here he is, opening up the heart jinyoung had fallen for and placing it right into jinyoung’s slim fingers.

“you had to have known,” jaebum mumbles, pressing their foreheads together as jinyoung continues to inhale. god, it’s like jaebum was drowning. “you had to have known how i felt about you. how could i make it any more obvious? why didn’t you ever know?”

“why didn’t you,” jinyoung starts, choking up, “how come you never – hyung.”

“i was scared,” jaebum admits. he blinks quick, like jinyoung will fade in between if he doesn’t get to the next blink fast enough. “do you know that’s my biggest fear?”

“kissing me?”

“losing you.”

jinyoung reaches to press his fingers around jaebum’s wrist, grounding him, grounding them both. he can feel jaebum’s wild, wild pulse. jinyoung can’t really believe it himself, but the picture framed on the wall – eomoni, abeoji sitting on the edges of the couch, hyunjin’s bright smile while situated in jinyoung’s arms, all of them staring at the camera – well, the pictures don’t lie. and right beside hyunjin is jaebum, smiling while staring right at jinyoung. like he had in their graduation photo.

like he had in every frame, in every snapshot of their life. jaebum has never looked away.

jinyoung tilts forward and kisses him again. and again. and again.

/

“halme?” hyunjin mumbles sleepily, waking up from his nap and rubbing an eye with the clothed fist of his rabbit onesie. “where’s appa?”

“shh,” jaebum’s mother hushes, pushing her grandson back into the hall. she smiles down at him, her old and knotted hands still gentle as she cards them through hyunjin’s hair. “your parents are just busy. let’s give them some time together, okay?”

“okay,” hyunjin agrees, slipping his hand into hers and following her back to his warm bed, where appa and abeoji will cuddle him back to sleep eventually.

/

jaebum follows jinyoung home like a puppy. home. us, plural.

his apartment is a little too small for the three of them. jinyoung likes it that way, likes the lack of space. despite how he seems, standoffish and sometimes a bit awkward for other people to approach, jinyoung likes comfort. he likes tactile intimacy, likes the feeling of someone brushing their fingers across the nape of his neck. his affection, more often than not, is to reach out to someone else with his arms and his hands, not his words.

that’s not the way jaebum does it. he rarely reaches out first. jinyoung should have known, in hindsight, that jaebum would not have made the first move until jinyoung reached out first – but then again, jinyoung had never expected them to come to this point. he had been happy supporting jaebum from afar, steady and constant.

“appa,” hyunjin starts, jumping a little in his car seat, “can i have ice-cream?”

“you had a lot of sugar,” jinyoung says disapprovingly. “and if you have ice-cream this late, you’ll get bloated. your first day of school is tomorrow, hyunjinnie.”

“aw,” hyunjin sighs, sulking. jinyoung can’t believe his child. where is the shy, sweet boy he had first met? but jinyoung can’t complain. the mischievous and outspoken hyunjin, unafraid to yell and scream and be happy and throw tantrums and kiss jinyoung’s cheek, is infinitely better than the sick boy waiting for night to fall. “can you read le petit prince to me, then?”

his pronunciation is getting better and better every day. jinyoung smiles and nods at him through the front of the car. it’s nearing 11pm. they’re almost at the turn of the year and they’re still an hour away from home.

“i forgot what it felt like,” jaebum starts when hyunjin starts humming to himself, playing with a rubix cube to keep himself busy. “to look forward to a new year. remember when we were younger and we’d try to set up the live feed to paris? or new york? to see the fireworks?”

“i want to leave so bad, and every year meant that i was here for another part of my life,” jinyoung reminisces, the feeling of such wanderlust now fizzled away by age and purpose. “you always tried to show me the world, even in our little bedroom.”

jaebum has the heat in the car up on full blast so their palms won’t be chilly. hyunjin is still humming a song, but he sounds drowsy now. they’re driving by the han river; there are loads of people outside, talking and chatting, distinct lights setting the edge of the river aglow.

“i would give you anything you wanted,” jaebum says truthfully. “i don’t even remember when i started wanting to do that, just that… i always have.”

“hyung,” jinyoung pauses, before breaking down into helpless laughter. he’s riding high on the feeling of weightless ecstasy. “hyung. we’ve spent fifteen years like this.”

jaebum’s mouth quirks up in a smile, because he knows what jinyoung isn’t saying: fifteen years spent looking at each other, missing by mere seconds, mere breaths. never having enough courage to potentially ruin a friendship, lose a love and support so strong it’s carried jinyoung through death and loss and grief, and then – and then they grew older, and the stakes grew higher, and it was easier (but more painful) to just not say anything.

“i couldn’t let your son be someone else’s son,” jaebum says finally, a teasing lilt to his tone. “he had to be mine and yours. it would have killed me if it wasn’t, i think.”

jinyoung snorts. “so dramatic – “

“jinyoung,” jaebum’s fingers clutch the wheel tighter, even if his voice’s teasing and easy inflection doesn’t change. “trust me. i’m not being dramatic. i’m not – i’m not that strong enough to watch you be in love with someone else. it would have ruined me, but i wouldn’t have ever told you. not if it would ruin your happiness.”

jinyoung chances a look behind him again. hyunjin is fast asleep in his car seat, the rubix cube slack between his fingers. they’re going to have this conversation in the car, then.

jinyoung wets his mouth. “i would have spent my entire life following you, if you wanted me to.” and he doesn’t need to say the rest, he thinks. i would have ruined my happiness for you, is what he doesn’t say. i would have stayed and watched if you ever needed me. for anything. i would have been there for you even if it killed me. so jinyoung understands. he gets it.

he reaches over and takes jaebum’s hand, interlaces their fingers together. he feels nervous when he does it, like he’s a teenager with his first love, hiding from his parents. like jaebum is the boy he sneaks into his room after school, kisses out back when they share the same cleaning duty, the boy he would skip hagwon for. he feels new, like they’re another jaebum and jinyoung.

and then jaebum’s ears flush pink, rising to the top of his cheeks, and he squeezes jinyoung’s hand back.

“we did this all wrong,” jaebum says. “i think the kid comes after we’re supposed to get married, no?”

jinyoung shakes his head. “i think we did it all right.”

it’s easy to fall into it, like it’s another part of their life that they had put on the backburner, with not enough time to yet consider. the years seem silly, endless, and for naught. but jinyoung can’t regret it, because he wouldn’t have wanted this to happen any other way. the new year passes while they’re still driving home, fireworks lighting up the night sky ablaze with color. hyunjin is fast asleep. jinyoung’s heart thrums loud and wild.

/

jinyoung spends the rest of the night going over the bag that he had packed for hyunjin previously, preparing all his school materials – and even his clothes – well in advance. he smooths down the collar of hyunjin’s blue shirt, the one heh ad chosen out for himself. jaebum goes to put the rest of the clothes that they had brought back in the laundry. jinyoung presses fingers against his mouth and thinks of the kiss he had given hyunjin before bed. then he thinks about the kiss jaebum had given him.

make sure you come over for seollal, is the text jinyoung gets as soon as they leave the house. i need to spoil my grandson!

hyunjin has turned strangely on his side. jinyoung moves him back into a more comfortable position, pinching his sweet red cheeks.

he barely hears jaebum in through the door, and only realizes when the other lays himself across jinyoung’s back to join jinyoung’s hands in pinching hyunjin’s cheek. jaebum’s hand, a bit more tanned than his, has a cut on one finger and the ring that jinyoung has given him a long, long time ago.

“he sleeps well,” jaebum brushes a piece of hair aside. “c’mon, you have to go to sleep early, too. first day back to work.”

“i’m so tired,” jinyoung laughs, even though his chest feels light. “you and your parents are awful enablers. we weren’t supposed to stay that long!”

“happy birthday to me, then,” jaebum smiles. jinyoung feels it against the curve of his ear. if he leaned back, he could hear how fast jaebum’s pulse would be. jinyoung knows the count by memory.

“that’s not your birthday present,” jinyoung says, looking up at him. jaebum catches onto his glance, unable to look away. after a moment, he blinks, as if reminding himself about something, and presses a kiss against jinyoung’s bottom lip.

“i can’t wait,” he says instead.

/

jinyoung isn’t late.

not only isn’t he not late for dropping hyunjin off to his first day of school – which is a lot less anticlimactic than he expected, as hyunjin hadn’t shed a tear at jinyoung’s departure (“it’s because he knows he’ll be coming right back, jinyoungie.” “but he didn’t cry at all! i thought all kids missed their parents on the first day of school! does he not miss me?” “jinyoung.”). jaebum is wearing the extra pair of scrubs that he keeps in jinyoung’s apartment. he ends up being early, latte in hand, when they reach the pediatric ward.

“i’m back,” he announces shortly while he sweeps into the main office, giving yugyeom the stink eye since he stopped typing once jinyoung entered. “what are you doing? shouldn’t you be working?”

“hyung,” yugyeom starts, long suffering, before his face breaks out into a smile. “how was it?! you sent us pictures in the group chat but we didn’t get anything else! can you stop being an old man for half a second to please send me videos on my little bro?”

jaebum, who stumbles a step behind jinyoung, takes a sip of jinyoung’s latte, endlessly amused.

“you’re an uncle,” jinyoung sighs, remembering how yugyeom started posting on every social media site he owns about being an older brother now. “stop trying to pretend that you’re younger than you are.”

“i’m baby,” yugyeom informs him, wrinkling his nose. beside him, jihyo looks like she wants to barf. “oh, stop. you’re jealous jinyoung-hyung likes me more.”

“jinyoung-hyung likes me best,” bambam whispers from where he’s working at his own computer.

“jinyoung-hyung likes me best!” youngjae quips, having been waiting for forms beside bambam. he meets jinyoung’s surprised eyes shyly, as if asking for permission to join in on the fun, and jinyoung just chuckles. “that’s right, i like youngjae the best.”

“that’s rough,” jaebum tells yugyeom and bambam, who both whip their heads around to stare at jinyoung in betrayal.

rolling his eyes, jinyoung pinches yugyeom’s ear fondly. “how was everything in my absence?”

“jihyo-noona looked over us well,” yugyeom says, and jihyo shushes him. jinyoung will have to give her a nice gift card for dealing with the pains that are all the pediatric nurses, despite being the most capable out of all of them. “but we missed our bitchy cult leader!”

youngjae, bug-eyed, stares at them while bambam hands him a file of neatly stapled papers. even jaebum chokes a little at that. pleased, jinyoung nods. “good. as long as you guys remember who’s in charge. im jaebum, give me back my coffee, you leech.”

“i’m going to go do my rounds,” jaebum says, placing jinyoung’s now half empty cup into his hands, to which he makes an outraged noise. before jinyoung can scathingly call him out on his leeching ways – he knows how to cook! abeoji had said so! jaebum has been lying to him all these years – jaebum puts a hand at the nape of his neck and kisses him in parting.

it’s a quick press of the lips, but the scent of his cologne and jinyoung’s toothpaste lingers. he blinks, almost dumbfounded, as jaebum curses at his pager going off and brings his phone up. “jackson, this was not the best time… yeah, youngjae is with me too – “

yugyeom, bambam, and youngjae are now looking at them, bug-eyed. jinyoung doesn’t have a mirror, but he must be matching their expressions.

this is all until youngjae realizes that jaebum had said his name and is on the phone with his direct supervisor, so he scrambles after jaebum with the papers in his hand. yugyeom and bambam continue to stare at jinyoung, jinyoung continues to stare at yugyeom and bambam, and jihyo just yawns.

“bam,” yugyeom says in awe, “i’m not lying this time. now my parents really are together!”

this, of all things, is what makes jinyoung flush to the tip of his ears.

/

“you – you can’t just do that,” jinyoung hisses when it’s lunch time and they’re at the cafeteria. mark and jackson are chatting amiably at the table they have set out while jinyoung and jaebum grab trays for themselves.

“do what?” even though jaebum knows exactly what. jaebum stares guilelessly at jinyoung’s unimpressed face for approximately half a minute before he breaks out into a heart-wrenching smile. jinyoung is pretty sure his ears are turning red at the full force of jaebum’s grin.

jinyoung puts two bowls of rice for himself on his tray. when in doubt, rice is the way to go to eat your feelings. he’s half a step ahead of jaebum, perusing through the meals and wondering if he’s down for curry today or a simple soup, when jaebum sighs forlornly behind him. “the cafeteria food just isn’t as good as a home-made meal.”

primly, jinyoung places a bowl of kimchi on jaebum’s tray. “you want a home-made meal? make it yourself.”

“aw, jinyoung. dad was exaggerating, i really don’t know how to cook that well!”

“you went through months of me giving you subpar food and watching me fail,” jinyoung mutters, unwilling to let it go. “when you could have been helping? or making it yourself? don’t think you’re getting out of this lightly, hyung.”

jaebum attempts to look like a scolded child, but he has nothing on the actual scolded children jinyoung works with every day. instead, jinyoung places a side dish of picked seasoned cucumbers, a dish he knows that jaebum doesn’t particularly like. jaebum, to his credit, doesn’t put the cucumbers back, but only looks at jinyoung fondly at his incessant pettiness.

as soon as they sit down and situate themselves at their usual table, jackson slaps a hand on the table. “show the pictures of the cute baby now.”

“jackson, did you dye your hair?” jinyoung asks, curious at the lighter shade of brown that jackson sports now. he takes a bite of his rice, feeling smug at the upper hand he has with a multitude of hyunjin pictures to share.

“park jinyoung,” jackson starts seriously, pushing aside his mozzarella burger (to which mark makes a surprised noise), “show me the pictures.”

jinyoung grins widely and whips out his phone, scooting over so that he’ll be able to share all the photos he had taken of hyunjin during christmas; in the midst of a warm home and with hyunjin’s ruddy cheeks, he’s too adorable for words. jinyoung presses a finger to his phone screen as if he can squish his baby’s cheeks digitally.

jackson makes a sound like he’s dying, grabbing jinyoung’s phone from him. mark, too, cranes his head and shoulders jackson to get a better look at jinyoung’s phone. jaebum snorts, but when he meets jinyoung’s eyes, there’s a mischievous glint there. jinyoung scrunches his nose at him. we obviously have the superior kid, he tilts his head.

jaebum’s eyebrows quirk up, and he clicks his chopsticks against the edge of his bowl. obviously. who wouldn’t be jealous of having hyunjin as their son?

jinyoung stifles an almost involuntary giggle.

“stop speaking telepathically and tell me about my nephew,” jackson nearly shrieks, waving jinyoung’s phone back at him. “look at him! he’s so healthy! he looks so good! has he started calling you appa yet? have you spent your life savings? do you need money – i can give you money, jinyoung. will my bank account make hyunjin smile like that all the time?”

“jackson,” jinyoung laughs, startled. he feels warm at jackson’s supportive and exuberant response – although, what else did he really expect? his friends to not accept his newest life choice? perhaps some part of him thought so, yes, from mark’s cautious words, but…jinyoung gets it. they want him to be careful to protect his own heart, but jinyoung is – jinyoung is over the moon. he doesn’t think he’s ever felt lighter.

matching jinyoung’s smile, jackson gently bumps shoulders with him. “i’m happy for you, park gae.”

“congratulations, jinyoung-ah,” mark offers, quiet but no less genuine. he reaches over to ruffle jinyoung’s hair, a rare show of affection from mark, who is keeps more to himself at their workplace. “and congrats to you too, jaebummie.”

jackson blinks. “wait, what?”

“ah,” jinyoung starts. “i mean, hyunjin does call me appa now, but he calls jaebum abeoji?”

speechless, jackson just stares, his head flicking between the both of them. jinyoung eats more rice, his red ears the only indication that he’s feeling any embarrassment.

“wait a minute,” jackson says, “wait. are you telling me you – you guys got together – over the new years – i missed it?”

“they kissed this morning, too,” mark adds. “it was kinda cute. and disgusting. you owe me 50,000 won, jackson.”

“what the hell,” jackson goes, just as jinyoung narrows his eyes and jaebum chokes, “you bet on us?”

“this is important, who made the first move?” overtaken by the need to recall his lost money, jackson reaches out to hold onto jinyoung’s forearms pleadingly. he turns to look at jaebum for help, but the other is also glaring daggers at jackson. blithely, mark finishes up his ramyeon. “wait, who confessed? it was jaebum, wasn’t it? jinyoungie would never, he’s a coward.”

“am not!”

“but jaebum is a coward too.”

“mark!”

“bet it was hyunjin,” jackson says, settling down in his seat with his arms crossed. “dammit. i can’t believe i missed it! wait, you two, kiss again, please – let me take a picture!”

jinyoung picks up jackson’s mozzarella burger and shoves it into his mouth.

/

by the time it reaches 5:30pm, jinyoung is struggling around everywhere to grab his things and let jihyo, head of the night shift nurses, take over. he says goodbye to all of his lovely coworkers before leaving to rush to the bus stop to pick up hyunjin from his school. they’ll keep him until 7pm, a very nice perk jinyoung is able to afford with his salary and his years of savings, but he wants to see hyunjin almost immediately.

so in a hurry, jinyoung barely notices jaebum reaching out to clasp a hand around jinyoung’s wrist, digging his fingers into jinyoung’s pulse.

“ah,” jinyoung starts, visibly startled, “hyung – “

“i wish i could go with you,” jaebum says quietly, pushing his way into jinyoung’s space. they scuttle backwards to a corner of the lobby, a strange moment of peace and privacy that seems all too fragile.

“you could come for dinner,” jinyoung says slowly, meeting jaebum’s eyes. “or bring dinner, actually.”

jaebum reaches down to brush their noses together. the tip of jinyoung’s is cold. “i could.”

“you could stay, too.”

jaebum’s mouth crooks up in a happy, boyish smile. “i could stay, too.”

he keeps eye contact with jinyoung until the other pushes him away, embarrassed and giddy at the same time, like a live wire is sparking right under his skin wherever jaebum’s hands reside. “you practically live at my place, anyway. bring in your cats and it’ll be complete.”

“is that an offer?”

jinyoung pauses, his hands falling to the strap of his backback. he had been joking, teasingly prodding fun at jaebum’s tendency to crash at jinyoung’s tiny apartment when he has a perfectly okay one of his own, but now that jinyoung thinks about it – well, all of his jokes and his prodding has always had some level of truth to it, haven’t they?

“always,” jinyoung replies carefully, reaching forward to lean over and kiss jaebum’s cheek. “see you at home.” before he rushes off to the bus stop, leaving jaebum behind to raise a surprised hand to his face.

/

hyunjin likes to blabber about his days at school while jinyoung is on the bus home with him. when they’re leaving, it’s late enough that the bus is pretty much empty save for a couple of people on the line jinyoung uses. hyunjin grabs onto jinyoung’s pinky finger and allows jinyoung to fuss over his hair, look through his lunchbag to see if he’s finished everything, and whine for snacks and sometimes gummies.

jinyoung tells him that if he eats too many gummies, his stomach won’t ever be able to eat real food. and then what will happen to the ddeokbokki jinyoung tried to make for dinner?

(it’s too spicy. hyunjin loves it, even when he’s drinking milk every other second.)

(jaebum takes one look at the red, fiery concoction and downs the bowl clean.)

hyunjin shows him the books that they read in class, the workbook that he did his homework in (“miss kim gave me 90 percent! that’s huge, appa! we learned it’s like a whole candy bar!”). jinyoung shows him pretty pictures that he’s taken today – of the sky, of jaebum, of the flowers one of the moms brought in for the nurses – and gives hyunjin little toys and knickknacks his loving uncles have piled on him. jackson and bambam are most affectionate through their gifts, loading jinyoung with little trinkets (in jackson’s case) and sleek, bright and tastefully colored shirts (in bambam’s case). hyunjin is fascinated by all the gifts he gets.

he especially likes the candid photos jinyoung takes of jaebum, always giggling when jaebum is leaning back against a wall during a brief phone break and his double chins are on display. at home, if jaebum is there, hyunjin will run to his legs and demand to be picked up. when he’s face to face with his father, hyunjin will reach out to tug at jaebum’s split ends or reverently pass his fingers over the cool metal of jaebum’s piercings.

what jinyoung likes most, though, is when hyunjin has too bright of a day; when he’s all tuckered out and tired, and doesn’t fight jinyoung when it’s time to wash up and head to bed. (hyunjin, jinyoung learns, is prone to tantrums like all other children, but he’s easily calmed, too.) that’s when hyunjin will sneak into jinyoung’s rom, little feet patting the floors in an imitation of trying to stay quiet, before a crack of light forms at the edge of jinyoung’s door.

most of the time, jinyoung is half asleep, waiting to fall into slumber from the long day – sometimes, jaebum is with him, already snoring away, his palm pressed against the dip of jinyoung’s waist. either days, hyunjin will run over to jinyoung’s low rise bed and heft himself up, curling underneath jinyoung’s outstretched arms, pushing against jinyoung’s chest.

his favorite nights are when hyunjin curls his little fists against jinyoung’s chest, and jaebum presses his nose against the crown of jinyoung’s head. neither of his boys have to say anything, jinyoung thinks. he marvels at hyunjin’s ten fingers and toes, every strand of hair, his sleeping habit of sucking his thumb. jaebum hasn’t changed since he was a teenager, either, always flopping around to deposit his entire listless body on jinyoung.

but it’s okay, because they’re both right here with him, and the solid weight is enough to convince jinyoung and neither of them are going anywhere.

/

on a particularly short work day (since jinyoung is planning to leave early to spend the long weekend with hyunjin on a day trip or two, maybe) jinyoung opts to bring hyunjin in with him to work. he lets hyunjin marvel at the place that he had been sick enough to stay in just a couple months before, when it was still winter and night came early. now it’s spring, and hyunjin’s converse squeak against the tiled floor as he chases his yugyeom-samchon around the admittedly empty waiting lobby.

“it’s yugyeom-hyung,” yugyeom whines, falling down in a mess of long limbs on one of the sofas. hyunjin jumps on top of him with a battle cry. “call me hyung, you little squirt!”

“bumji says you’re yugyeom-samchon!” hyunjin chirps, placing a tiny hand on yugyeom’s chest to steady himself. “again, let’s do airplane again!”

“jaebum-hyung is so mean,” yugyeom cries.

“if you’re telling hyunjin to call you hyung,” jinyoung starts, finishing up another form and placing it in his work pile, “then you should be calling jaebum appa too.”

yugyeom wrinkles his nose.

jinyoung points the tip of his pen at him. “there, see. that’s why you’re an uncle.”

“but i’m too young to be an uncle! i’m still in the prime time of my age!”

“how was your day at school, jinnie?” bambam asks, reaching down to ruffle hyunjin’s hair. at first, bambam hadn’t known how to act around hyunjin, always remaining at the edges as the others swarmed around jinyoung’s son, but after a moment or two bambam had regained his footing – and his confidence – and was able to connect with hyunjin in his own way.

“great!” hyunjin says, not bothering to fix his bangs. “appa packed me kimbap and strawberry milk, and then i got to share with felix, and then i did really well on my spelling!”

“oh, that’s great,” bambam laughs, patting hyunjin down so he won’t jump around everywhere. jinyoung finishes checking off on the inventory for the week, smiling to himself as hyunjin chatters on and charms all the nurses.

“i got to call halmeoni yesterday, too,” hyunjin says. he tugs on yugyeom’s sweater to tell the other all about his call with jaebum’s mother, which lasted nearly an hour. jaebum had sulked behind the couch the entire time, acting like a complete child when his mother refused to talk to him until she could talk to her grandson. jinyoung remembers it fondly.

but yugyeom’s eyes turn to jinyoung, startled, and he asks, “hyung, your parents - ?”

jinyoung stiffens. “no,” he says shortly, regretting it when yugyeom withers a little at the question. he hadn’t meant to snap, really. “no, gyeom. it was jaebum’s mother.”

“oh,” yugyeom says quietly, but hyunjin had heard the words anyway. he turns to jinyoung, eyes wide, and meets jinyoung’s eyes. he looks like he wants to ask – what about appa’s parents? – but something older, almost understanding reflects in his eyes, and hyunjin just smiles shyly at jinyoung. jinyoung wants to reach out and smooth away his bangs, to remove that look in his eyes, to return hyunjin to the life of a child as he deserves.

“what’s wrong, hyunjinnie?” bambam asks, tweaking his ear, “does your legs hurt?”

“a little,” hyunjin pouts. “felix bumped into me on the playground yesterday an’ i got a bruise!”

“you have to be more careful,” jinyoung sighs, remembering the tizzy he had been sent into when looking at the bruise on hyunjin’s knees. he’s a kid, jaebum had said, sitting jinyoung down at the kitchen so he could work on patching hyunjin up, he’s going to hurt himself. it’s okay, jinyoungie.

“yeah, little jellybean,” jaebum surprises hyunjin by grabbing him up the middle. hyunjin shrieks in pleasure. “you have to be careful! or else you’ll give your parents a heart attack!”

“nooo,” hyunjin garbles, tugging at jaebum’s awful nest of hair to get him to stop. jaebum settles him against his hip and hyunjin reaches forward to play with the stud in jaebum’s ear.

jaebum chortles, an ugly but lovable sound, and jinyoung rolls his eyes at them as he files away another stack of papers. while he’s making moves to head to the ward with all the babies (it’s their feeding time, after all) he spots yugyeom staring at jaebum with a contemplative look on his face: eyebrows furrowed, his mouth pursed.

“yugyeom?” jinyoung asks, “thinking too hard there, buddy?”

yugyeom blinks and shakes his head. “no,” he mutters to himself, “calling jaebum-hyung ‘dad’ isn’t worth being called hyung. think of the pros versus cons, yugyeom.”

“i think jaebum-hyung is easily daddy material,” bambam snickers.

jaebum’s face turns a shade of red that jinyoung didn’t think was possible; he lets out a bark of laughter before meeting the shocked eyes of his fellow nurses, raising a hand to cover his mouth. jinyoung blinks. yugyeom and bambam blink.

“oh, i didn’t need to know that,” yugyeom looks a little green.

“i don’t call him that,” jinyoung scowls reaching forward to strong arm yugyeom into his arms. he stops immediately after, of course, because jinyoung doesn’t want to teach his son any sort of violence.

jaebum sets hyunjin down, who is giggling a little, perhaps not really understanding what’s going on. “watch your mouths, you two. don’t you work with children?”

jinyoung swats at yugyeom as the other smirks at him, and bambam just sticks out his tongue. they all share a laugh; jinyoung fixes the raised cowlick at the back of yugyeom’s head that he had created. “i’m going off to change the feeding tubes for the babies. i’ll be back in about an hour. watch hyunjin?”

“always,” bambam says.

“i’m scrubbing in for a surgery soon, i just thought i would stop by and say hi to my favorite people,” jaebum smiles, reaching forward to curl a hand around the nape of jinyoung’s neck. they share a small, private look, speaking quickly with their eyes, before turning at once to look at hyunjin. jinyoung wants to remind him to eat his vegetables that they’ve packed for lunch and to listen to bambam and yugyeom, even if it’s something stupid.

but hyunjin is standing strangely still, his eyebrows furrowed, his face ruddy.

ice floods jinyoung’s veins. “hyunjinnie?”

“appa,” hyunjin starts, holding onto his stomach, his voice really quiet in the way that says he’s in pain. “i don’t feel – feel so good.”

and then he drops to the ground.

Chapter Text

“nyoungie,” his mom whispers to him as he’s tucked quietly in bed, “what book do you want to read today?”

“le petit prince!” jinyoung enunciates, his words chosen close and careful. he has the thickest accent amongst his peers, even after they’ve moved from jinhae-gu to seoul, and jinyoung rarely speaks because he wants to rid himself of it quick. seoul is too uncomfortable, too different. everything goes by too fast, and jinyoung is intensely lonely.

his mom laughs, her voice low and husky, running her fingers across jinyoung’s bangs. “again, honey?”

“about the flower and the stars, mom,” jinyoung says, kicking his feet in his blankets so he can get more comfortable. “i like the line about the flower and the stars.”

“and the sheep that eats the flower?” she smiles, her lips pulling over her teeth the same way jinyoung’s does. “that one?”

“yeah,” jinyoung sighs happily, waiting as his mom cracks open the spine of his new favorite book. jinyoung mouths the words along with his mother, blinking endlessly as sleep starts to cast her spell on him.

if someone loves a flower, of which just one example exists among all the millions and millions of stars, that’s enough to make him happy when he looks at the stars.

“mom,” jinyoung says, voice cracking as he stands outside the door, the rain beating down on his back. he’s cold, his veins turned to ice, but nothing that replace the desperation that drowns his lungs. he bangs on the door, crying himself hoarse. “mom, dad, please! open the door!”

and then the door opens, and his mom is standing in front of him with her knuckles white. “no son of mine,” he starts, her small chest heaving with breath, “is a dirty homosexual.” and she shuts the door on him.

jinyoung had seen the tear tracks on her cheeks.

he tells himself, “my flower’s up there somewhere…”

“this is a strange book to write your honors thesis on, jinyoung,” his advisor mulls, looking over the cracked spine of jinyoung’s favorite childhood book. it’s been filled with post-its and blue ink pen. jinyoung’s hands are stained with ink. “are you sure you’d like to do this? usually students who are like you, preparing for a graduate degree in nursing or any other medical field, focus on scientific history.”

“i’m sure,” jinyoung says, voice quiet. his hands tremble as he clutches at his pants, knuckles white. after a moment, he smooths down the fabric with gentle fingers. “i’m very sure.”

but if the sheep eats the flower, then for him it’s as if – suddenly –

jinyoung doesn’t hear himself over the sound of the ringing. the incessant, endless ringing, the rush of water in his lungs and his ears. he barely hears himself scream at all. yugyeom rushes to hold jinyoung back, bambam moves forward with a single-minded determination, and jaebum’s hands tremble as he picks up hyunjin’s slumped form from the cold tile.

“hyung,” yugyeom starts desperately, holding jinyoung back with all the strength he has, “hyung, please, please!”

jinyoung can’t hear him. all he hears is his own voice, hoarse and screaming, begging for another chance.

– suddenly, all the stars went out. and isn’t that important?

/

when mark sits next to him, shuffling his white coat to the side so it won’t tip over jinyoung’s precious state, jinyoung looks blankly from where he’s gripping his phone tightly between his fingers to his squeaky white shoes.

“you were right,” jinyoung starts, flipping his phone over so he won’t have to see the time. “all those months ago.”

mark doesn’t ask him what he was right about.

“that i feel too much. i wasn’t careful at all.”

“jinyoung,” mark rests a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it briefly. when jinyoung meets his eyes, mark looks sorrowful, his eyes red and puffy, like he had been crying. crying for jinyoung, who hasn’t shed a single tear. “that’s not what i wanted for you. i didn’t want you to not care. i was scared of you getting hurt.”

jinyoung pulls away from him, rearranging his arms around himself.

“he’s with jaebum right now. he’s only fallen unconscious,” mark continues. “his vitals are okay. his blood pressure is good, his breathing sounds healthy. it’s something else, jinyoungie. don’t worry.”

“if it’s something else,” jinyoung starts, “it might be something we can’t see.” and then, “i’m not another face you have to calm down, hyung. i know what this all means, what you being out here means.”

“you’re a child’s parent. you’re not a nurse here, jinyoung. so i’ll treat you just like how i treat all my patient’s parents – with the courtesy of telling them the truth based on my expert opinion. and i’m telling you that hyunjin is going to be okay.”

he’s a kid. he’s going to hurt himself. it’s okay, jinyoungie.

jinyoung shakes his head and curls into himself tighter.

/

“appa!” hyunjin greets him, kicking his legs back and forth on the chair that he sits on. when jinyoung comes through the door, hyunjin has to be held down by bambam at the chair so he won’t dislodge the butterfly needle in his vein. “you’re here!”

“i’m here, hyunjinnie,” jinyoung says, pulling a chair over to sit next to him. “i heard that you got something special today, is that right?”

“a – a transpooshun,” hyunjin tells him.

“transfusion, baby,” bambam laughs, pinching hyunjin’s cheek. “it’s to help you feel better. when you go home with your dad, you’ll feel a little queasy, but you should be okay for the next few weeks. no more dizziness for you!”

“yeah!”

jinyoung resolutely doesn’t look at hyunjin’s medical chart, lying on the counter. bambam moves it out of the way and squeezes jinyoung’s shoulder on the way out. “jaebum-hyung will tell you more about his condition, but he’s not allowed to be hyunjin’s primary doctor anymore,” bambam says quietly. “he’s gonna be okay, hyung.”

jinyoung nods blindly, reaching out to hold hyunjin’s hand as his son asks, “appa, why are you crying?”

/

so jinyoung brings hyunjin to the hospital once a month for a transfusion. his white blood cell counts are low, but so are this red blood cells, jaebum tells him, crouching over the medical papers in the dim light of jinyoung’s kitchen table. it’s like they’re sharing a secret, keeping the words quiet between them, in case hyunjin’s cells decide they want to riot. jinyoung rests his head on jaebum’s shoulder. that morning, they had completed their second transfusion for hyunjin.

he thought – well, he thought he could hyunjin a life without needles, without the pinprick bruises up his arms, but it looks like jinyoung can’t even do that. dispassionately, he folds the papers shut where jaebum’s grip is so tight they cause the folder to crinkle in half. jinyoung smooths a hand over jaebum’s knuckles, noting the cuff links jinyoung had given jaebum for his most recent birthday.

hyunjin had hidden the little box underneath his clothes, and jinyoung had placed a little bow on top of hyunjin’s head to give jaebum his “present”. it had been a wild time for everyone.

jaebum wordlessly places the file away, reaching up to wrap an arm around jinyoung’s shoulders. his fingers run through jinyoung’s hair. with his ear pressed against jaebum’s pulse, he can hear every soothing beat of his heart.

“you should change out of your work clothes,” jinyoung says, voice hushed. he reaches forward to play with the cufflinks now, in the shape of a spiral. “get comfortable. did you eat dinner?”

“i did,” jaebum mumbles into jinyoung’s hair. “did hyunjin go to bed easy?”

“a little. he’s been obsessed with having milk before bed.” jinyoung pinches the skin of jaebum’s inner wrist. “i wonder who got him into that habit, huh?”

without even having to look at him, jaebum goes, “don’t pout, nyoungie. or else our kid will learn more bad habits, right?”

jinyoung snorts, but it’s tired. he feels restless, but his limbs are weighed down with something heavy. “he learns all his bad habits from his abeoji. maybe we should kick him out of the house?”

“but then who will tell him that life isn’t just about reading books and judging actresses in period dramas?”

jinyoung pinches him again. then, he pulls away and kisses jaebum soundly, seeking his warmth, his comfort, and some semblance of reassurance. jaebum must be able to feel it. his hands roam until they’re locked at the small of jinyoung’s back, holding him steady, like an anchor. jinyoung breaks their kiss, blinking down at jaebum, counting the little pores on his nose. jinyoung reaches up to trace a finger over his sunkissed cheekbones.

“he’s going to be okay,” jinyoung whispers, eyes wide, his bangs brushing against his eyelashes and tickling the corners. “he’s going to be just fine?”

jaebum doesn’t answer at first, just presses another kiss to the side of jinyoung’s jaw, and gently moves him to go change into a set of sleeping clothes. “even if he isn’t fine, we’ll still be there for him.”

“hyung,” jinyoung starts, causing jaebum to look over at him with a question in his eyes. he wants to ask – how are you so composed? i know you love him as much as i do, why isn’t this breaking you, why isn’t this hurting you like it’s hurting me? – but that just leads him to end up saying, “you can tell me anything, you know that, right? you don’t have to be strong in front of me either. you don’t have to be anyone’s hero.”

jaebum blinks, but doesn’t answer. instead, he nods tightly, but as he shuffles down to the bathroom, rolling up the sleeves of his button up, jinyoung can see him rubbing wetness out of his eyes.

/

one day, months after jinyoung has first started his troublesome foray into cooking, he takes a bite of the kimchi that was left to ferment a couple days back. the taste immediately takes him aback. it tastes of home, saltier and spicier than he’s used to – than eomoni’s kimchi – and jinyoung looks down at the container he had been idly packing away. tastes it again.

it tastes like his mom’s.

perhaps that’s why he’s never managed to make eomoni’s recipe completely right. he had been searching for something entirely different. jinyoung stares down at the chopsticks in his hands.

“appa,” hyunjin starts, tugging at his pants, “where’s abeoji’s stuff?”

jinyoung picks up a good amount of kimchi, placing it in a large bowl for all of them to share. he presses jaebum’s set of chopsticks into hyunjin’s hands. “make sure you wash your hands, hyunjinnie. is your arm hurting?”

hyunjin had gotten a transfusion yesterday, but the scarring over his needle mark had broken again in the middle of the night, staining hyunjin’s sheets with maroon. jinyoung nearly had a heart attack before he realized what happened, and why hyunjin had woken up whining and crying in pain.

although he’s grown an inch or two, hyunjin hasn’t gained much weight. jackson, now hyunjin’s primary physician, tells jinyoung that they need to incorporate more meat and fatty foods into his diet, hopefully get some more meat on his bones.

jaebum’s voice goes, “ah, is that for me?” in jinyoung’s tiny round dining table, fit for four people only. as he prepares three bowls of soup that jaebum had made earlier that night, jinyoung thinks that it might be nice to get jackson and mark over for a group dinner. since hyunjin entered their lives, jinyoung hasn’t had much of a chance to eat with them like they used to.

“yeah,” there are some shuffling sounds, meaning hyunjin has found his way to sit in the chair by himself. “abeoji, i want ice-cream after dinner!”

“did appa say you could?”

hyunjin’s quiet silence cracks a smile on jinyoung’s face. hyunjin is clever enough to realize that while jinyoung spoils him the most, he’s also now less likely to fall for hyunjin’s puppy dog eyes. jaebum, meanwhile, is absolutely powerless against hyunjin’s big, watery gaze. weak, jinyoung thinks to himself, shaking his head.

“whatcha thinking about all to yourself here?” jaebum muses, letting his arms encircle jinyoung’s shoulders. there’s still a lot of elbow room, so jinyoung leans back and pecks him on the nose very quickly.

“hyunjin still needs to do his math homework,” jinyoung says.

“is it the multiplication tables? am i helping tonight?”

“yes please,” jinyoung smiles, accepting a hum and a kiss from jaebum before the arms around him give him one more squeeze. jaebum is quite fond of doing that, jinyoung realizes; even though he’s not as touchy as jinyoung is, whenever he does instigate something, he clings close. “are you off tomorrow?”

“god, yeah,” jaebum mutters. recently, he’s started to form stress lines between his eyebrows. “after that reparation surgery yesterday i don’t think i can be on call. it was eighteen hours. i had to take naps.”

jinyoung pats his cheek, pushing a bowl of soup for jaebum to carry in his hands. “poor baby,” he coos, half sarcastic and half genuine. “life must be so hard, being a successful surgeon.”

“it is,” jaebum continues, his tone on the edge of a whine (god, just like the kids in their ward) but his mouth pulling up in a smile.

“until you have to deal with fourteen different angry parents in one day,” jinyoung fixes the straw cowlick at the top of jaebum’s head, “i don’t want to hear it. i don’t see you going in to fix up any of the surgical trays.”

“that’s what residents and nurses are for. scut work.”

jinyoung pinches his ear and holds onto it. “want to repeat that?”

jaebum winces, curling a little bit under jinyoung’s onslaught. “i said that you’re absolutely amazing and ethereal, that’s what i said! the backbone of our hospital, really!”

“better,” jinyoung lets go, patting his cheek and laughing at how red jaebum’s ear has gotten.

jinyoung should have known better, seeing as how tired jaebum is. after dinner he thumbs through all the bills, wondering if it’s worth telling jaebum to move in already so they can start splitting on the exorbitantly rising cost of their three people living. he places the credit card bills and any hospital bills to the side to take of them later. jaebum has put on some quiet piano music in the living room, where he and hyunjin are sitting on the carpet to do hyunjin’s homework. it’s friday night, and jinyoung says if hyunjin can finish his work in the late hours (and tucker himself out) he has the rest of the weekend to do whatever he likes.

“hyung,” jinyoung starts, distracted, “do you think that we should – “

well, it’s not like jaebum could answer. there he resides, absolutely conked out on the carpet floor, his head turned to the side. jaebum is a quiet sleeper, his breaths even and steady, but his brows are still furrowed. hyunjin looks up at jinyoung, blinking slowly.

“abeoji fell asleep.”

“hmm,” jinyoung hums, setting down the bills to pinch the edge of hyunjin’s ear in a gentler mimicry of what he had done to jaebum earlier. “did he help you with your tables?”

“yeah,” hyunjin mumbles, yawning.

“go on, wash up.”

jinyoung slips jaebum’s arm around his shoulders, another around his waist before taking in a large breath. jaebum groans, slipping into consciousness briefly to stumble up with jinyoung, but manages to press his entire warm weight on jinyoung’s side and back.

he half walks, half carries jaebum to their bedroom, pushing him on the bed and wiping a faint sheen of sweat off his forehead.

“jaebum-ah,” jinyoung says, exasperated. when jaebum doesn’t answer, he presses a kiss against jaebum’s ear, the same one that he had pinched red earlier, before dinner. “thank you,” he whispers, pressing his cheek against jaebum’s.

jinyoung doesn’t even bother to convince hyunjin to sleep in his own room, as the child makes a beeline for jaebum’s warmth and snuggles in almost immediately. jinyoung stifles a laugh, taking a quick picture on his phone, pressing a kiss to hyunjin’s temple before settling in behind jaebum. he slips a hand underneath jaebum’s shirt, following hyunjin’s lead to steal the elder’s warmth, and presses his nose against jaebum’s shoulder blades.

/ / /

“jinyoung-ah, am i supposed to put the balloons up here like this?”

whipping around from where he’s been trying to unsuccessfully untangle the mess that jaebum had created with balloon strings and his watch, jinyoung blinks at the way mark is now suddenly on jackson’s shoulders and craning his neck so as not to smack himself against the ceiling.

“yes,” jinyoung goes, “make sure that they spell his name right, mark-hyung.” jaebum had tried before that, but – well, this is where they are now, aren’t they?

eomoni comes out of the kitchen wiping her hands on the front of her apron. she insisted on making hyunjin’s birthday cake, just like she does every year, and jinyoung has absolutely no guard against the woman’s ability to make jinyoung do anything she wants. truly, he’s both terrified and amazed of her.

“jinyoung-ah,” eomoni begins, “did you say hyunjin likes chocolate the most?”

“and strawberry,” both jinyoung and jaebum say to her in unison.

“aigoo,” she tsks, “i didn’t bring anymore cooking chocolate. do you have any in the cabinets? or could yugyeomie bring any?”

“he’s not answering his phone, probably too busy with hyunjin,” jaebum sighs. “i’ll ask bambam, though.”

bambam had been sent on a run to go grab confetti and party poppers. all of hyunjin’s friends are going to be coming today, so jinyoung and jaebum had pooled together all of their combined effort to wash down and clean all inches of the apartment, declutter, and make sure that nothing could possibly affect little lungs and hearts. jinyoung invited a couple of the other nurses, alongside some of the parents, and jaebum had told his parents that hyunjin’s eleventh birthday would be his biggest party yet.

yugyeom volunteered to take hyunjin to the amusement park for the day with the rest of his friends, even though it was obvious that hyunjin wanted to go with his parents.

“silly kid,” jinyoung had said, faking a cough so hyunjin wouldn’t insist with his big eyes for both of them to come along, “isn’t this the age that he should start getting rebellious? why is he still so clingy?”

“shut up, you love it,” jaebum had retorted.

jinyoung can’t find it in himself to be annoyed now, even though he’s been working on the mess that his husband created for the past twenty minutes.

“i think,” jinyoung starts, “we’re just going to have to cut it off. it can’t be saved.”

“gosh, doctor, i don’t think i can make it,” jaebum says plaintively, not bothering to sidestep the slap jinyoung gives his shoulder. “ah, i think this is patient abuse?”

“quiet,” jinyoung says, leaning forward to press their noses together briefly in an eskimo kiss. “or i’ll show you how far you can abuse my patience.”

“i love it when you do wordplay,” jaebum laughs, pecking the corner of his eyebrow.

“ugh,” jackson says distantly, behind them, “they’ve been together for like, twenty years, why are they still in the honeymoon phase?”

“we’ve been married for three years only, jackson, stop exaggerating,” jinyoung says to him, pressing his lips together in a smile so hard that his left dimple shows. jaebum kisses the edge of it too, pulling him closer in an exaggerated fashion. jinyoung wrinkles his nose and laughs at the way jaebum is trying not to cringe out of the cheesiness of his own actions.

jackson makes a mumbled remark to mark in quick mandarin, to which the other laughs. jinyoung pulls away from jaebum and goes to find a scissor to relieve him of his balloon.

yugyeom calls near the end of their preparations. “hyung!” he starts, higher pitched amongst the sound of people in the background. if jinyoung listens hard enough, he can hear his own son yelling in the back. “are you feeling any better? i think it might be time to go home. hyunjin needs some cake!”

that was their code for when the kids would start getting restless. jinyoung looks around at the prep and then at jaebum, who nods. “yeah, come drop by. i’m feeling a lot better now, i took some medicine earlier.”

“hear that, hyunjinnie?”

“abeoji! i won two games and got this huge plush bears – “

“wow, what a baller,” jaebum laughs, “are they a matching set? are you getting one for that girl you like?”

“abeoji!” hyunjin shrieks, before they can’t hear his voice at all from the phone. jinyoung stifles a cackle and shares a look with jaebum; they know all about his little crush on his teacher, but pretend that it’s one of his classmates just to see the look of utter horror on his face. it’s one of the greatest pleasures in his life, really.

“poor kid is going to have the social skills of a sitting duck, with you guys as parents,” jackson sighs, reaching down to grab at nora, who was rubbing herself against jackon’s legs. she likes him quite a bit, possibly because he runs hotter than the rest of them. “it took you this long to get together – how long will it take for hyunjin to confess to his childhood love?”

“when he’s forty,” mark says.

“he’s just shy,” jinyoung argues.

jaebum clears his throat. “besides, he’s not allowed to date. until he’s twenty five.”

at that, everyone in the room turns to look at him, even youngjae, who had been quietly enjoying his music while blowing up more balloons. he’s the only one doing any work; truly, he’s jinyoung’s favorite.

“what?” jaebum asks, defensive.

“hyung,” youngjae tsks, “that’s just…sad. until he’s twenty five?”

“teenagers are dumb!”

jinyoung pats his shoulder. “we can discuss that another time, jaebum-ah.”

spluttering, jaebum holds onto jinyoung’s hand. “jinyoungie, i’m not being funny here. i mean it! he has to get through high school, girls and boys are just distractions, and – “

“are you saying i was a distraction?”

“no,” jaebum blurts, while jackson, mark, and youngjae start falling over themselves laughing, “nooo, that’s not what i – i mean you were distracting, but i wanted to do well in school because you wanted to do medicine and – oh god – “

“stop while you can, son,” eomoni chirps from the kitchen.

jinyoung laughs at the way jaebum has reddened intensely, wrapping an arm around him and pressing their cheeks together affectionately. “okay, okay, i’m sorry. i know what you meant.”

“so mean,” jaebum huffs, but smiles at him regardless.

jinyoung likes this jaebum, too, the jaebum with the ear piercings and the longer hair that swoops into his eyes, the jaebum with the droopy smile and the knotted shoulders that he asks jinyoung to massage away at night. he likes the jaebum who buys whatever he wants when he’s walking home from work for hyunjin, the jaebum that sleeps slumped over on his stomach on the couch with hyunjin on his back and their three cats in various places on his legs. he likes this jaebum so, so much.

jinyoung pulls away from his husband and rushes to get the door, waving everyone away as they try to rush into position for hyunjin’s birthday surprise. he laughs, unlocking the door. “it’s probably the delivery man, we ordered chicken, no way is yugyeom here with the kids. we would have heard them by now.”

“just to be safe!” youngjae goes, panicking as he tries to stuff the bag of balloons somewhere underneath his shirt.

“i’m telling you, it’s not – “ jinyoung opens to the door to a long forgotten face. “ – yugyeom…”

“hi, jinyoung-ah,” boyoung says, smiling weakly at him, “um. long time no see.”

/

jinyoung doesn’t know when he’s gotten taller than his sister. it makes him wonder if he’s taller than soyoung, too, and figures that he probably is. it’s a little strange, to see himself in a female mirror, with all similar facial features but not quite the same. sort of like a distorted reflection of himself.

jinyoung closes the door behind him, ignoring the way that his rowdy friends and family have gone quiet behind him.

“what are you doing here?” he asks quietly. “how did you find me?”

“i just – “ boyoung clears her throat, reaching into her bag to find her phone. she looks well; well fed, well taken care of. all of her clothes look brand new, and she doesn’t seem like she’s wanting for anything. “i just… one of my friends works in the same hospital as you do. she just started and she mentioned your name, and then i…”

“oh,” jinyoung goes, because it sounds plausible. then, “i see.”

they fall into an awkward silence.

“boyoung,” he starts, the name unfamiliar in his mouth, “what do you – what do you want?”

“nothing,” she says, voice quiet. “i just wanted to see you. it’s been many years since…”

jinyoung frowns. “yes,” he starts, a little bit shorter, “it’s been twenty. i don’t know what you want me to say. we’re more like strangers than siblings.”

“i know,” boyoung starts, her lower lip trembling. “i know i haven’t been the best older sister. i know that i have no right to come into your life, into your family, and ask to try and make amends, but i just – i wanted to see you. see if you were doing well.”

“i am,” jinyoung gives her that. “i got married. i have a son.”

“oh,” boyoung’s brows rise to her hairline, but she smiles. her eyes crinkle the same way jinyoung’s does. “oh, congratulations! i can’t believe i missed it. mom will be so glad to hear that she has another daughter and a grandson.”

jinyoung just stares at her.

“boyoung,” he starts, “i have a husband. and my son is adopted.” he looks to the staircase leading up to their apartment, unwilling to pick apart the look on boyoung’s face. “it’s his birthday party today, actually, so i think it’s about time you left. they should be coming in soon.”

“jinyoung, i didn’t – “

he heads back inside and shuts the door behind him.

/

hyunjin’s birthday party goes off without a hitch. aside from the twin terrors that jinyoung has to constantly watch (he’s talking about yugyeom and bambam here, not any of the actual children), the other nurses that jinyoung had invited all find themselves a glass of wine and some cake to talk over in the kitchen. jinyoung stares down at the bottom of his own glass of club soda, wishing that he could have the glass that seokjin is nursing right now.

his pining must be a little too obvious, because the other raises an eyebrow. “should i pour this down your throat?”

“ugh,” jinyoung says, downing his glass and setting it on the counter. “no, no. i need to be sober to talk to those shark moms.” the parents of hyunjin’s schoolfriends, most notably some of the moms and one of the fathers, never fail to get underneath jinyoung’s skin. it’s only due to his numerous years of speaking to patients pleasantly that he even manages to keep up the façade of gentle kindness around them when he really wants to push someone down the stairs.

jinyoung shoves more cake into his mouth. he peers into the living room, where a group of those moms are sitting and chatting on the sofas, all perfectly poised. the kids are all over, rotating between hyunjin’s room and the living room floor for their games. jaebum is helping hyunjin change the songs again on their speakers.

“it was you that wanted the kids,” seokjin says, amused, but he pats jinyoung’s shoulder in commiseration. jinyoung hates how perfectly poised he looks, something that jinyoung knows jungkook – who has been quietly listening to the conversation – definitely agrees on.

they begin to play disney songs. jinyoung groans, because hyunjin is obsessed with a number of them, and his brain wracks with the lyrics of every sweet disney melody ever written. despite himself, jinyoung can’t help but smile.

“i never said i regretted it,” jinyoung remarks, crossing his arms. “it’s just…the older i get, the harder it is to plan these things. most of the time, i want to just lie down and sleep the day away, or watch movies, maybe. but hyunjin likes having big parties on his birthday.” what he doesn’t say is: after most of his life has been spent without parents, without this kind of love, this is the least i can do.

and whatever fatigue he feels is always washed away by hyunjin’s smile.

jinyoung sneaks out his phone when he sees a bunch of little girls and boys pile jaebum with a feather boa and a sailor moon wand. one of the parents begins to laugh. jinyoung thinks that if he were to have this for the rest of his life, he’d be completely okay.

/

“hyunjin!” jinyoung calls, his voice rising over the hurried rush of packing his things for work. “are you ready to go? i’m dropping you off to the bus stop, your dad is going to pick you up today.”

“yes, appa,” hyunjin’s voice calls back, and jinyoung spies him playing on his nintendo switch over his breakfast sandwich and glass of milk. jinyoung gives him a cross look, asking him to put it down, and hyunjin does so with a pout.

“jaebum’s spoiled you,” jinyoung sighs, packing up the console in his backpack. “if your teacher catches it again, you’re not allowed to use it for another month, am i understood?”

“yes, appa,” hyunjin says, looking down at his lap and then up at jinyoung through his lashes. for a moment, jinyoung’s heart gives a loud, resounding thump, before he snorts and leans down to press a kiss against hyunjin’s sweet cheeks. he’s made sure to shave this morning just so any stubble wouldn’t prevent him for getting kisses. hyunjin turns around and kisses jinyoung’s cheek in a thoughtless, habitual motion.

“okay, go on. when is your appointment with doctor wang?”

“at five,” hyunjin squirms as jinyoung buttons his sweater up to the top. hyunjin always hates wearing anything that’s too close to his neck, but it’s supposed to be a little breezy today. “abeoji is gonna be there, right?”

“why? you don’t like uncle jackson?” jinyoung asks, amused. hyunjin flushes, but shakes his head. “no, that’s not it!”

jinyoung suspects that hyunjin may have a tiny crush, the same way he has a tiny crush on his teacher, but he won’t say anything to spare his child’s dignity. instead, he smiles, pushing hyunjin to put on his backpack so they can begin to head out.

they meet up with a couple of other parents waiting at the corner stop. the bus comes creaking in as soon as jinyoung finishes greeting one of the other fathers, speaking quickly about their weekend, and getting an invitation to a dinner party that both he and jaebum will probably be too tired to attend. jaebum’s off early today, after working for four days straight last week, but his schedule can be a little all over the place. jinyoung is just glad that he’s able to follow hyunjin’s schedule better.

they’ve been collecting money to send hyunjin to a good school once he hits high school. after seeing how well both of his parents are in music, hyunjin pleaded to have piano lessons since he was seven. jinyoung has a sneaking suspicion that hyunjin wants to go into the arts, and while some part of jinyoung (the writer in him, maybe) is proud that hyunjin wants to chase after something he loves, he’s scared that it won’t be enough to keep hyunjin in a job.

but those thoughts are about the future, far – far into the future, and as jaebum always reminds him, it’s better to take care of the today than to worry about the tomorrow.

speaking of jaebum, jinyoung sighs, heading to the bus and opening up his phone to text jaebum that he’s leaving earlier. he would have taken the car, but jinyoung feels like going through his usual routine today.

unwillingly, his mind travels back to boyoung. it’s been almost a month since he’s seen her on hyunjin’s birthday, and she hasn’t attempted to contact him since. some part of jinyoung is unsure how to feel about that. on one hand, he can’t forget the look on her face, the anxious slope of her brow, and the stark reminder of their blood relation shown through her frown. on the other hand, she reminded him of his mother, and jinyoung has long buried those feelings in the back corner of his heart.

he turns up his phone, opening up sns and finding his way to boyoung’s page. the friend she had mentioned had been a colleague of taeyeon’s, a new hire that worked in part of the pediatric department that dealt with short term cases. from her page, he had followed his way to boyoung’s.

she has a son, is the first thing jinyoung had noticed. a son and a daughter. a son hyunjin’s age, the daughter three years younger, and she had been married for nearly fifteen years now. jinyoung hadn’t gone to her wedding, had never even met her husband. but he has a brother-in-law, a fact that jinyoung realizes hasn’t really sunk in for him yet. from boyoung’s instagram page, he follows the thread of connection to soyoung’s instagram, which is much less forthright. her icon is her side profile, so starkly similar to jinyoung’s, and the rest of her page is locked. jinyoung doesn’t bother to follow her, or boyoung. his own is only filled with images of jaebum and hyunjin.

jinyoung loses all the courage to even try to reach out. that back corner of his heart, well – it still aches, the way a wound received years ago aches because it hasn’t healed properly.

he doesn’t quite know what to do. jaebum had rubbed his arm and told him that if he wanted to – if he wanted to talk to them again, jaebum would be there for him. that he had a family regardless of whether or not their name began with park. and jinyoung knows this – he knows that eomoni, abeoji, jaebum – they’re his family, so starkly written into his own blood that he feels their pain as keenly as his own.

but he’ll read le petit prince to his son at night, who has never forgotten this story, and jinyoung will hurt. just a little bit of him.

he grabs his latte on the way to work, walking in with a customary ease in his step. he gets numerous greetings from all the nurses on his way in. youngjae is working at the counter, talking to yugyeom, and jinyoung hears him laugh loudly.

“morning,” he says absentmindedly, reaching over to sit in his favorite seat. jinyoung sets his backpack down and fondly touches the edge of the family photo of him, jaebum, and hyunjin that’s always kept on his desk. “did nayeon clock out yet? i wanted to talk to her about the night shift tonight, we might need to switch dahyun in. dr. wang prefers to work with her, and she’s conducting a surgery tonight.”

“fei-noona said that she had to push off the surgery,” youngjae tells him before yugyeom can, who is just beginning to wake up with his customary mug of green tea in his hands. “she came by in the morning to let us know. i think she told nayeon, too.”

“oh, alright, that’s good. yugyeom, are you listening? where’s bambam?”

“how should i know?” yugyeom asks, grumpy and informally. jinyoung reaches over to tug at his hair in warning, before smoothing it down. “hyunggggg.”

“why are you acting like a brat? did the kids rub off on you? do you need to feed the newborns?”

“no,” yugyeom says sullenly.

“he lost in our monopoly game last night,” youngjae fills him in cheerfully.

“why is that so bad?”

“one, yugyeom is really competitive,” here, youngjae smirks, “and two? we were playing with real money, so he lost quite a bit of savings.”

yugyeom sniffs, crying over his mug, “i can’t believe you two sharks. you’re worse than debt collectors!”

jinyoung shakes his head, leaving them to argue amongst themsleves. he’ll never understand the inclination of those three – who had turned into quick, fast friends after youngjae’s decision to stay in the pediatric ward – to somehow incorporate bets into every single game they manage to play. poker, okay. card games? fine. jenga? monopoly? jinyoung starts filling in the forms left on his side of the desk, laughing quietly to himself.

“is this a commentary on my new hair?” jackson asks, running a hand through his admittedly celebrity-level brunette bangs. jinyoung raises an eyebrow. “that little laugh, jinyoung-ah. i heard it!”

“i didn’t notice,” jinyoung replies blandly.

“wh – “ jackson looks offended. “what do you mean you didn’t notice?”

“i mean,” jinyoung says pointedly, clicking into a new tab on his computer, “i didn’t notice.”

“and yet you noticed jaebum-hyung when he cut his hair one inch shorter?!”

jinyoung squints at him. “are you comparing yourself to my husband?”

jackson makes an outraged noise. “yes! i am your best friend, the wang gae to your park gae, does our love and affection mean nothing to you? your son is my god-son!”

“you’re not his godfather.”

“he visits me once a month!”

“jackson,” jinyoung deadpans, “all you did was get highlights. please stop.”

jackson grins. “so you did notice!”

jinyoung doesn’t bother to answer, rolling his eyes and reaching into his backpack to pull out a little bundle of blue plastic tied together by a silver ribbon. he shoves it unceremoniously in jackson’s direction while reading a text from jaebum on his phone. it’s only when jackson goes, “oh, jinyoung-ah, i love you and all but i’m not a homewrecker – and jaebum-hyung is my third best friend after you and mark, so – “

“i’m not hitting on you,” jinyoung scowls. “these are cookies we made last night, hyunjin saved some for you, youngjae, and yugyeom.”

“hyunjin loves me,” yugyeom says blissfully, grinning over his mug. he and youngjae share a high five from being part of hyunjin’s favorites.

jackson snatches the cookies away before jinyoung can finish talking, holding it to his chest. “i’ll cherish them forever,” he says, sighing in happiness. “my godson made me cookies!”

“you’re not his godfather,” jinyoung repeats for possibly the 103^rd time, but he can’t help but giggle at the way jackson kisses the side of the bag and stuffs it in one of his pockets. yugyeom scooches over and starts whining at him to get his cookies now, too, and youngjae looks at him with hopeful eyes until jinyoung absolutely cracks and fends them off with their own bundles.

“bam is gonna be so jealous,” yugyeom says, taking multiple pictures of his cookies. probably to send them off to bambam. jinyoung doesn’t have the heart to tell him that jinyoung and hyunjin had fell asleep after they made more cookies for mark and bambam, leaving them on the counter to cool. jaebum had snuck home at 2 in the morning and ate the rest of the cookies on the counter like the sneaky thief he is.

jinyoung has to physically push jackson away so he can deal with checking on the kids of the ward and making sure they’re all good for lunch time. the in-room orders are already prepared, but some of the other nurses ready the kids that want to eat at the communal play room. he makes general motions for the nurses to tell any waiting parents that they can join in the room if they want to join in or volunteer in lunch and play time.

most politely say no, a few stragglers will agree to come by jut to have a distraction. jinyoung smiles at the line of kids that begin to spread around in a circle, setting themselves down on the floor and preparing for lunchtime. this short time together can make them happy for hours, jinyoung knows.

he’s so taken with beginning the lunchtime duties that jinyoung barely realizes his phone going off. it’s on vibrate, but there are so many moving parts and moving people that he gets no chance to sit down and really go through whatever notifications there are. while he’s wiping down a bit of porridge from one child’s mouth, promising him that it’s okay if he feels sick, jinyoung feels a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“what – “ startled, jinyoung turns around, only to see jackson standing behind him. “what’s wrong? did the shipment of blood bags not come in? if so, let bambam know, he should be able to – “

“jinyoung,” jackson starts, voice ever so gentle. when he shifts to the side, jinyoung sees mark at the entrance, so very still. “jinyoung. please remember to breathe, okay? i’m going to tell you something, and i need you to come away with me, away from the kids. youngjae will handle everything here.” youngjae nods and helps jinyoung up, taking his place with the kids. jinyoung shares a quick look with the other nurses in the room, who seem just as confused as he does. something quick and hot zips down his spine.

“jinyoung-ah,” mark begins once they’re away from the kids, “have you checked your phone yet?”

“n-no,” jinyoung fumbles with it now, pulling it out of his pocket. his phone lights up with thirty two missed calls – oh god thirty two – from jaebum. his fingers shake as he blindly calls jaebum back, who answers immediately. “what – hyung, what’s happening, why – “

“jinyoungie,” jaebum sounds so far, so intensely far away that jinyoung doesn’t quite know what to make of it. “jinyoungie, where are you? hyunjin just fainted at school and his blood pressure and oxygen is dropping – “

/

jaebum immediately pulls him into a hug when they meet eyes in the hospital hallway. jinyoung reaches up to dig his fingers into jaebum’s hair, which has grown long enough to be tied at the nape of his neck. when jinyoung pulls away, meeting jaebum’s worried eyes and crease lines, he asks, “what happened?”

“i don’t know,” jaebum’s chin is jutting out in the way that tells jinyoung that he’s either angry or freaking out, both states of being that has long become a part of jaebum’s past after training himself to the bone. “i got a call from his school saying that he had collapsed during playtime, and the ambulance took him straight here since he had his medical tag on.” beside them, jackson rushes past, already yelling orders at the doctors behind him as they rush into the room where hyunjin must be in. jinyoung watches him go with wide eyes.

“they said he was coughing, had a fever, but nothing else too bad. 39 celsius.”

“he was fine this morning?” jinyoung says, rattled. “he didn’t seem warm at all! and he ate very well, i don’t understand – i don’t understand what could have happened. did he put something else in his mouth?” but hyunjin is way past the age to be putting strange things in his mouth. he possesses a level of alacrity that is unseen in children his age, always knowing what boundaries to touch or stay away from.

“he woke up briefly in the ambulance, hyungwon was telling me. he was lucid, able to say what was going on, and asked for the both of us. he said that his stomach hurt, however, and hyungwon had to put him to sleep to be able to administer pain medication.”

“what is happening,” jinyoung whispers, eyes wide. he meets jaebum’s gaze, which crumples a moment later. jinyoung doesn’t expect jaebum to just drop forward into jinyoung’s arms, his forehead pressing against the crook of jinyoung’s neck, or the almost bruising grip jaebum has on his forearms. it feels like jaebum is placing his entire weight on jinyoung, just for a moment, and jinyoung holds on for dear life.

“hyung,” says a voice behind them, and jinyoung pulls away a little to see taehyung, looking at the both of them with masked concern in his eyes. his hands are clutching a clipboard of papers. “i’m sorry to ask this of you, but since you’re here, would you two be able to fill these in? we have hyunjin on file, but this for more recent information. yoongi-hyung – dr. min – is in with hyunjin now.”

“he just – he had blood work done a few weeks ago,” jaebum says, but reaches out for the papers anyway. “i – i don’t have a pen.”

jinyoung pulls one out of his pocket, pulling jaebum down to sit numbly on the hard-backed plastic blue seats. they do nothing but stare at the linoleum, at jinyoung’s fisted hands on his thighs, and at each other.

taehyung still lingers. after a moment, he says, “we’ll do our absolute best,” he says, voice so quiet with conviction that jinyoung has to double take at him. taehyung nods at him, a single moment of solidarity between them both, as jaebum begins to scribble in hyunjin’s recent information. jinyoung nods back mutely, and taehyung returns to the counter where the new head nurse, jungkook, is staring at jinyoung with a worried press of his lips. seokjin, who is standing right behind him, gazes steadily at jinyoung all the same, unable to cross the border between professionalism and friendship.

and yet still, seokjin mouths to him: he’ll be just fine. trust us. and jinyoung exhales shakily.

/

jinyoung is unsure of how many hours it’s been. he doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting in his plastic chair, his hands intertwined with jaebum’s, unwilling to part for even a single moment. as he looks back dispassionately at the hustle and bustle of the emergency room, jinyoung is reminded at every waking moment why he had forgone working here. the very charged air reeks of anxiety, a tense pause following after every open and closed door, every drip of saline and blood.

jinyoung is no stranger to the worst of people, the wounds that run so deep that they refuse to stop bleeding, but even he is jarred at the continuous flow of injured people that flood into the ER. the rhythm is like a pulsing heartbeat. a rush will come in by pass by without comment. none of the nurses seem to notice this irregularity, but perhaps that’s because they’re all used to it.

jaebum has remained quiet this entire time. they’ve only just managed to chase away the ice cold from each other’s bones by finding their anchor. jinyoung is reluctant to let go.

it’s only when bambam appears in front of him, holding two thermal blankets and a plastic bag of food, does jinyoung finally move. he takes the bag from bambam to hold it in his hands, leaving jaebum free to place his head in his palms. when jinyoung tries to thank him, though, his voice is dry.

“it’s okay, hyung,” bambam says quietly, shaking his head. he reaches forward and squeezes jinyoung as tight as possible with his skin and bones body, as if he could effuse warmth into jinyoung’s very being through sheer willpower alone. “hyunjin is a strong kid. he’s fainted before, right? and he’s always bounced back. we always come here, but we always leave, too.”

“you’re right,” jaebum croaks, looking up to meet bambam’s eyes wearily. “you’re right.”

bambam smiles at them both hesitantly, such emotional endeavors already a feat for someone who is loud and rambunctious to cover up a deep-set longing to rid themselves of loneliness. jinyoung runs a hand through his hair, the way he would to hyunjin.

with that, bambam leaves back to the pediatric ward.

“kids always get hurt,” jaebum says hoarsely. “hyunjin just gets a bit more hurt than the rest of them.”

“that’s why we love him even more,” jinyoung finishes, repeating the mantra they had made for themselves. it’s a comfort to say. a way to tell themselves that they can’t rid the entire world of its horrors, but they can ease the way for hyunjin as much as they can.

jaebum presses a dry kiss against his cheek, and when he pulls away, his mouth is wet. jinyoung reaches surprised fingers up to his face and pulls away to see that they’re littered with tears. he hadn’t realized.

“please don’t,” jaebum says. “please don’t cry, nyoung.” but there’s wetness at the corner of jaebum’s eyes, too, and when jinyoung squeezes his own shut, he feels rather than hears the great shuddering breath that runs through jaebum’s very being. it’s followed by a hiccupping, broken sound.

they’ve been here before, and they’ve always bounced back. but it doesn’t get any easier each time.

/

at some point, jackson and yoongi show up in front of them in operating scrubs. jackson’s yellow ducks are a strange comfort.

“he had a ruptured appendix,” yoongi begins, his low voice still audible over the general noise of the ER. “we performed an appendicitis on him.”

“he was coughing,” jaebum says.

“yeah, the emts told me as they brought him in. i’ll get a scan done of his lungs in just a bit, but he’s currently resting. the fever is gone, too.”

“we took some blood to test his blood counts and some other markers, make sure he’s not going to go into sepsis or experience post-surgery complications,” jackson adds. “we weren’t expecting the surgery, sure, but so far it all looks good. jaebum-hyung,” he starts, “please, breathe.”

jaebum exhales, before laughing. “how can i, when jinyoung is holding onto me this hard?”

abruptly, jinyoung realizes that he’s been clutching jaebum’s wrist for near thirty minutes now, his fingers digging into the skin there, so much so that jinyoung can’t even feel his own hands. he pulls away, snapping, “excuse me? are your lungs connected to your wrist?”

yoongi coughs, looking away when jaebum just quirks up the corner of his mouth and rearranges their fingers.

jackson looks like he has some choice words for the both of them, but thankfully doesn’t say anything, for the most part, he just smiles and reaches forward to bring both jaebum and jinyoung into a crushing hug – jackson is, without a doubt, stronger than both of them combined. yoongi says something in the background, but jinyoung can’t hear him over the sound of relief rushing through his veins. it makes him dizzy, and when he pulls away from jackson the world spins for a brief moment.

“sit, sit, shit,” jaebum swears, pulling jinyoung down onto the seat. “did you eat what bambam sent you?”

“how was i supposed to eat, im jaebum, when hyunjin was inside the operating room?”

“ooh, he broke out the full name,” jackson mutters to himself.

“you made me eat! at least i finished some of the rice and chicken, i thought you would have at least fed yourself – come here, jinyoung – “

“i fed you because i needed to do something, and i wasn’t hungry,” jinyoung insists, pulling away from jaebum as the other tries to spoon rice into his mouth. jackson is just full out grinning at them like a loon, now. “stop, hyung, i’m going to throw up if i eat right now. and it’ll be on you.”

“labors of love,” jaebum tells him seriously, and – well, how can jinyoung resist letting out a small laugh at that?

/

“hyunjinnie,” jinyoung starts softly, pushing aside a lock of hair that falls into his eyes. eomoni is sleeping beside hyunjin, a blanket thrown over her legs, and hyunjin is playing away on his switch without a care in the world. he’s careful not to dislodge the catheter in his right arm or the saline drip. when he spots jinyoung at the door, he beams, which offsets the paleness of his mien.

“oh, hello,” jinyoung breathes, settling down beside hyunjin.

“appa!”

“shh, not so loud,” jinyoung says soothingly, “halme is sleeping. how are you feeling?”

hyunjin squirms in his bed but raises all five fingers on his left hand, the one that isn’t tubed up to machines. jinyoung high fives him, even though a 5 out of 10 isn’t the best in the world – it also isn’t the worst in the world. hyunjin, the slippery thing, manages to lean into jinyoung’s chest and wrap both of his arms around jinyoung’s middle.

“missed you, appa,” hyunjin sounds muffled in jinyoung’s cardigan. he inhales quickly and harshly, as if he can’t get enough air through his lungs. “where did you go? i wanna show you all the villagers i invited! i already showed abeoji and he says he has more villagers than me, but then he wouldn’t show me, so i think he’s lying.”

“your father jokes around too much,” jinyoung mutters, shaking his head at how he has two children rather than just one. “but that’s good. uncle jackson is going to come back with some medicine for you, so make sure you take it well, okay?”

“okay,” hyunjin chirps. “will i have to swallow it?”

“no pills, promise. it’ll be through this,” jinyoung taps the IV line attached to him. “and then your abeoji will be here to watch over you. appa is going to go take care of some forms to fill out, and then we should have you out of here sooner than later!”

“okay,” hyunjin pulls away from him, big eyes wide. “it’s almost nighttime, appa isn’t going to bed?”

“i’ll be back to sleep with you here,” jinyoung whispers, reaching down to press a kiss to hyunjin’s forehead. “be good, okay?”

he tucks the blanket around eomoni a bit tighter, smiling at the way she’s already fast asleep. no doubt, jaebum is somewhere with abeoji. most likely getting snacks in the cafeteria, if jinyoung knows the way hyunjin whines when he doesn’t want to eat the hospital food. since they’re out for so long, jinyoung can only assume they’re having one of their talks together. while jinyoung loves abeoji, while the man has been the father that jinyoung has always cherished, there’s nothing that can touch the bond between jaebum and his father. at some point in the past, jinyoung might have been jealous of that bond, but now –

he looks at hyunjin, who is still playing on his switch. well, now it’s different. now, jinyoung understands what abeoji must have felt from the moment he had laid eyes on jaebum, on his son, on the very pulse of his life. jinyoung didn’t understand how much love was a price until he’s had his own child, until he’s confronted with the knowledge of how far he would go for hyunjin.

jinyoung closes the door to the room quietly, rubbing his eyes as he leans against the glass panel for a brief moment. he texts jaebum to get back whenever he can. jinyoung leans his head back against the glass and takes in a deep, deep breath.

and then he moves away, clutching tightly to the papers that jackson had given him. a peek at words across the top reads hwang hyunjin, complete blood work. jinyoung doesn’t need to read it again. he’s read enough of these to know what the numbers mean.

hyunjin is already half asleep when jinyoung gets back from the financial office. jaebum has climbed into hyunjin’s bed and crowded their son at the side, letting hyunjin rest on the crook of jaebum’s elbow. eomoni has disappeared, and the blanket that had been around her knees is now swallowing up jinyoung’s small family.

he smiles and pulls down the blinds, setting aside the papers he’s refused to let go since morning, when he had gotten them. hyunjin is blinking awake blearily, even though jaebum is humming him a lullaby to sleep. hyunjin is much too lanky now, growing faster than jinyoung had ever expected. he’ll end up taller than the both of them, no doubt.

“c’mere, baby,” jaebum says, voice made of gravel and stone. jinyoung isn’t sure who jaebum is referring to. hyunjin moves closer anyway, shuffling his nose against jaebum’s collar bone, even though jaebum turns to meet jinyoung’s eyes in the dark. his gaze is luminous. he reaches out the hand that is held down by hyunjin, a quiet beckon toward the bed.

“it won’t fit both of us,” jinyoung admonishes.

“we’ve made smaller spaces work.”

they’ve piled up over each other, moving their bodies into the intimate puzzle pieces that make up with little family of three. jinyoung throws off his cardigan, because hyunjin is putting out intense heat, and shuffles in behind his son. hyunjin is too old for this. he hasn’t slept in his parent’s bed for years, now.

hyunjin’s breathing is slow, crackly. jinyoung reaches over to press his flat palm against hyunjin’s sweaty forehead, how he’s trying so hard to breathe.

jinyoung kisses the shell of hyunjin’s ear, his forehead, his hair that smells of baby shampoo even now. he shifts hyunjin’s body so he’s resting more comfortably. “appa, no more movin’,” hyunjin mumbles, coughing a little as it gets stuck in his throat.

“appa’s sorry,” jinyoung whispers, burying his face at the crown of hyunjin’s hair. jaebum is still patting hyunjin’s tiny belly, which has caved in since his long stay at the hospital. it’s been a week since his appendectomy.

“abeoji,” hyunjin whines, his eyes screwing shut, the apples of his cheeks dusted with red. “hurts.”

“sorry, baby,” jaebum says roughly. his hands still. “can you open your eyes for a moment, hyunjinnie?”

“mm,” hyunjin agrees, cracking open his eyes a little. he smiles when he sees how close jinyoung and jaebum are to him. “sleepover!”

“sleepover,” jinyoung agrees, mouth quirking up in a smile. “we love you very much, hyunjinnie.”

“love you more than anything else in the world,” jaebum agrees. “you’re our little star, buddy.”

“i’m a boy,” hyunjin says matter of factly. “not a star! the sun is a star! that’s what missus moon says at school.”

“well, you’re our star,” jaebum tells him, tweaking his nose. “our sun. we revolve around you like all the planets in the sky.”

“and when the sun outside comes up tomorrow morning, like it always does,” jinyoung pinches hyunjin’s cheek lightly, “i’ll tell them to make sure hyunjin is happy every single day.”

“i already am,” hyunjin says drowsily. “i’m really happy, appa, abeoji.”

“good,” jaebum whispers. “good. go to sleep, hyunjinnie. we’ll see you tomorrow morning.” he smiles, putting a broad palm over hyunjin’s eyes to close them.

/

hyunjin doesn’t open them in the morning. jackson calls the time of death as dawn breaks.

Chapter Text

two hands find their way to his shoulders. jinyoung startles at the touch, turning around to see yugyeom behind him, his mouth pressed in a thin line. he’s pale, with shadows underneath his reddened eyes.

“hyung,” yugyeom starts quietly, “i brought you your food. please, eat something.”

“oh,” jinyoung says, taking the box from him. “did – jaebum – “

“i gave him his, too.”

“oh.”

and jinyoung turns back to the folded hands on his lap. that’s all, really.

/

“please, doctor, please save my grandson, please – “

“ma’am – “ jackson’s face is twisted in pain, sweat lining his brow. he looks so clean, so sterile. his scrubs are wrinkled but not dirty with dust, sweat, or blood. his hair, parted well and in the typical way jinyoung has always known jackson to wear his hair. but his eyes are red. his cheeks have paled into a wan shade of translucent white, as if it jinyoung can reach out and touch the veins underneath his brows. he holds his palms out toward eomoni, chest bared, vulnerable. like he’ll take any hit she can give him. “ma’am – he’s – “

he’s gone, jinyoung finishes. he’s gone.

eomoni collapses against jackson’s chest, sobbing loudly, wildly, a grief so loud and encompassing that it’s crippling. jinyoung hears her cries down to the bone, where it shakes him. as it is, he sits in his plastic hard backed chair, the milk scent of hyunjin still stuck on his sleeping clothes. he hasn’t changed. jinyoung hasn’t left the hospital in hours. he’s terribly cold, with a chill that settles over his shoulders as a mantle, his fingers and toes freezing.

“ma’am,” jackson chokes out, and he’s crying, too. fluorescent lighting shines off his cheeks, all along the tear tracks. “ma’am. please. i’m so sorry, ma’am, please. forgive me, i couldn’t save him. i couldn’t – “ jackson shudders, a full body shudder, and crumples into eomoni, holding her close the best he can. the hallway is eerily quiet, no sign of hospital hustle and bustle. for a moment, it feels as though everyone has turned down the volume, paused in a moment of their day to pay respects.

it’s just. it’s just – the silence keeps going, keeps ringing, and jinyoung only hears eomoni’s cries. nothing else filters back in. jinyoung’s own face has been terribly dry, his chest hollow.

/

“jinyoung,” jaebum whispers, pressing his hot hands on jinyoung’s cheeks. “jinyoungie. jinyoungie, please, look at me.”

jinyoung blinks, watching as jaebum’s face comes into focus. what had he been doing? where is he?

“jinyoungie,” jaebum presses a thumb against jinyoung’s dry bottom lip, pressing their foreheads together. he’s unshaven, with bloodshot eyes and his hair grown out in a tangled mess. jinyoung reaches up to hold a hand around jaebum’s wrist, loosely curling his fingers around jaebum’s pulse. he’s so warm, jinyoung thinks.

“jinyoung,” his husband starts again, “please. sweetheart. say something, anything.”

jinyoung has nothing to say. it all feels empty. he can’t bring himself to come up with thoughts comprised of full sentences, much less words, or impressions.

“please,” jaebum says, unsteady, and jinyoung notes that he’s on his knees now, staring up at jinyoung, pleading. “please, please say something. please, jinyoungie, you have to be here, please, where did you go?” jaebum presses his face into the cold ache of jinyoung’s stomach, his hands fisted into the folds of jinyoung’s shirt. “please, please, please. say something, jinyoung, anything. please.”

he notes very strangely, after a beat, that they’re no longer at the hospital. they’re at their home. the walls are the same. hyunjin’s toys spill across the floor, where hyunjin would have cleaned up before dinner time. the windows are closed. jinyoung is at home.

“oh, i,” jinyoung breathes, reaching out to run a hand through jaebum’s hair. “you’re a mess, hyung.”

jaebum sobs into his lap, face turned away from jinyoung, the rug running rough at his knees. jinyoung continues untangling his hair with his fingers, unable to respond as jaebum slowly cracks, façade chipping little by little, bit by bit. until his back is bowed, until he grips onto jinyoung so hard it’ll leave bruises.

“jinyoung,” he gasps, ragged and harsh. jinyoung pauses the hand in his hair. “jinyoung. my baby, i lost my baby.”

jinyoung’s hand trembles.

“i lost my baby,” he continues. “i lost him. he’s gone, he’s gone? how is he gone? he was healthy, i made sure he ate healthy, and he - we ran every day, he was happy and his – blood counts, his blood tests were all okay, jackson said he was okay why did this happen why oh god my baby is gone hyunjin is gone i – “

/

jinyoung’s hand trembles.

jaebum holds onto his wrist, as if to stabilize himself. they sit side by side in front of the funeral director, who speaks only to jaebum’s father, who is soft spoken and kind when they ask what jinyoung and jaebum want for their son’s funeral, who would be there? how long do they want it to be? a tombstone, the memorial, an urn–

abeoji takes care of all the small details. jinyoung closes his eyes and tries to breathe, like he has been for days now, but it’s hard to catch his breath when hyunjin can’t anymore.

/

“jinyoung.”

it’s jackson, standing at the edge of the door. jinyoung looks at himself in the mirror, smoothing down the lapels of his black suit. jackson, who clears his throat and steps inside despite jinyoung not inviting him in.

jinyoung meets his eyes in the mirror.

“i’m so sorry,” jackson whispers after meeting his eyes, looking down at his own shoes. “i was his doctor, and i – i’m so sorry. i couldn’t… i wasn’t there in time, i didn’t see his – there’s no excuse. jinyoung, i – “

for a moment, jinyoung feels the innate, overwhelming and abhorrently new urge to just scream. to open his mouth and dig inside his ribs, deep and heavy, and drag out every ugly, filthy emotion he can dredge up, spit it out between his teeth and hope that if he purged that kind of blackness inside him it would leave space for something new. but jinyoung is a nurse, a healer, and he knows the way these things work. if you try to dig out an infection, it doesn’t do anything. the hurt goes away for a moment before it’s festering anew.

so he doesn’t. he says, quietly, “stop. please.” and then, because jinyoung is jinyoung, hyunjin’s father, he says, “it wasn’t your fault. hyunjin wouldn’t ever blame his uncle jackson for when he had a bad day, or felt awful. don’t blame yourself.”

jackson doesn’t look like he’s ready to believe him. jinyoung knows this just as well: the tendency to place blame when you can’t save one of them. so he doesn’t push.

“i came for a reason,” jackson starts up again. “jaebum hyung, he. in the bathroom, i mean… well. maybe you should just – just go to him.”

jinyoung nods mutely, stepping away from his bed at the mirror nearby, walking past hyunjin’s closed room so quickly he might as well have just tripped. jinyoung opens the bathroom door just in time to hear jaebum curse, leaning over the edge of the sink. from his reflection in the mirror, jinyoung sees the way his jaw clenches.

he’s cut himself on a spare razor blade, jinyoung notices. the razor itself and the shaving cream jaebum likes to use are set on the side.

hyunjin used to watch jinyoung and jaebum shave, the mornings that they were looking a little too scruffy for professional use. he would wonder at the way jaebum would start from his left and then move right, ask why jinyoung didn’t use a shaving cream that was as foamy as jaebum’s, why the “black dots” would appear after a moment, what do you mean that’s just hair appa? am i gonna grow hair on my face too? like hanabeoji? i don’t want hair on my face, that means i’m old!

jinyoung gently pushes his way in front of jaebum, holding both sides of his face in his hands so they can meet eyes. jaebum leans heavily against him, hands still gripping the sides of the sink beside jinyoung.

they would have fought on who would teach hyunjin how to shave, probably. jaebum would insist on it, since he always argued that his way was much better, but jinyoung would raise an eyebrow and show his own clean shaven face – which stays clean shaven for much longer – and jaebum would just splutter that his facial hair just grows back quick, alright? all the more that jaebum should teach him. no, hyung, you already taught him how to take a bath by himself, i want to do this!

jaebum presses his cheek into jinyoung’s hand. jinyoung glances down to see a steady stream of red running from jaebum’s hand to the bowl of the sink, but jinyoung doesn’t dare make him move.

he turns on the sink instead to watch the water wash the blood away. with some hot water, jinyoung dampens his hands and places them on jaebum’s face, over his over lip, gently wetting his skin. he takes care to make sure it doesn’t get on jaebum’s dress shirt.

hyunjin, once, snuck into the bathroom in the morning and attempted to put shaving cream over his face. alarmed at the mess he made right after, he ran a bubble bath to try and cover up the mess he made – it was everywhere, from the tile grit to the showerhead – and most notably, in his hair and behind his ears. jinyoung didn’t have the heart to tell him hyunjin had used a bath bomb – how would that produce white foam?

jinyoung spreads cream across jaebum’s face evenly, over his adam’s apple. jaebum inhales roughly, exhales just a quick. jinyoung snaps in the new razor blade and runs it over jaebum’s skin, left side to right.

hyunjin’s rubber duck, one of the first gifts they had ever given him, resides at the corner of the bathtub. ready to never be used again.

“i don’t know where my tie is,” jaebum says, once jinyoung is running the razor under the water. “or my shoes.”

“okay,” he says.

“i was going to shave, i just. i forgot, and then i saw myself in the mirror and realized.”

“mm.”

“i don’t know where my blazer is, either.”

“i know.”

“i don’t think i can drive.”

“jackson is here.”

“i’m still bleeding.”

“bandages are in the top drawer.”

“i can’t do this.”

jinyoung pauses, wiping down jaebum’s now cleanly shaven face. he meets jaebum’s eyes, sinks himself into the familiar darkness he sees there. how jinyoung wants so desperately to sink in, but jaebum is – jaebum is crumbling, so jinyoung can’t.

“neither can i,” he whispers, voice so quiet it could be a mumble against the wind.

jaebum buries his head in the crook of jinyoung’s neck. he doesn’t need to say anything. jinyoung knows very well just how he feels.

jinyoung secures his tie for him, a simple windsor knot at the base of his neck. he smooths his hands over the shoulders of jaebum’s blazer, places a bandage on jaebum’s cut finger the way that’s been burned into muscle memory. and then jaebum presses a dry kiss against his forehead while jinyoung is still holding onto his injured hand, just resting his mouth there. they stand together for a while longer.

/

grief is strange, jinyoung thinks.

when he had left his parent’s home (when they kicked you out) he had ran straight to jaebum’s waiting home. unsure if he would be let in, if he had a place to sleep at night, somehow bereft but liberated but scared but relieved at the same time. jinyoung had shown up at jaebum’s door and nearly collapsed, as he had no money to take a cab or the bus. the upside had been that the rain on his face felt numb, like pinpricks of ice, and had sluiced their way down his skin so quickly that he felt it in every step, every inhale in.

after a warm shower, after eomoni wrapping her arms around him and offering him tea, after jaebum mulling at the edge of his vision worried but unsure of what to do, jinyoung hadn’t felt anything. and that – that felt good.

he got up, went to school. went home and said he would look for a job to pay jaebum’s parents back, have money for food and clothes. he got up, went to work. he got up, studied. he got, wrangled jaebum to the library, and tried to push all the gratefulness he felt for jaebum’s parents onto jaebum – making sure he ate, slept, got good grades, fretted and sunk into complacency by routine and shame and gratefulness.

and then, when jaebum’s parents had come for their graduation but not his own, he felt it: the crushing weight of his chest caving in. it was like he couldn’t breathe, then. every inhale was a struggle, and the more he struggled to inhale, the harder it got to see. when his vision swam, he panicked, and he – he had to sit, he had to get away – and everywhere there were, students and their families, faces that were happy at least for the day if nothing else –

and jinyoung had nothing. he had lost them. and that, he thought while he crouched behind the sinks outside, his shiny borrowed leather shoes gathering sand and dust, that was what grief felt like.

it didn’t feel like this.

it felt like the children that died under his hands, their breath fluttering butterflies that refused to be caged on earth. it felt like whispers in the dark, reminding him of a tumultuous place in the world, in his friend’s lives, in jaebum’s heart, in jaebum’s family. it felt like getting up at four am to write a study guide for jaebum so jinyoung wouldn’t feel guilty for eating lunch at their house and dropping his plate by accident. it felt like nudging the doctor to call the time of death on a woman beaten so bad that death was sweeter. it felt like the rain on his face, cold and sharp and biting.

grief didn’t feel like this. empty. angry. hollow.

jinyoung stares at the shifting colors of the sky and doesn’t process it. jackson is quiet, for once, only speaking at his bluetooth when someone calls, otherwise focused on his hands at the wheel. jaebum is tense, gripping jinyoung’s hand, his other covered across his face. he wears the ring jinyoung gave him for his birthday. he wears the cufflinks that jinyoung and hyunjin gave him for his birthday.

and yet. grief didn’t feel like this.

flower bouquets litter the memorial, and as they walk past, jinyoung thinks of hyunjin and their plan to start a garden together, no matter how much it was likely to die in their inexperienced hands. they would rope jaebum into it, or get eomoni to save them. she’s crying now, jinyoung realizes, spotting her walking through the doors, her face already wet. she’s crying so quietly. abeoji is too. they kiss jinyoung’s forehead and hug him tightly, even before they reach jaebum, whisper words of comfort.

jaebum hugs his parents goodbye as they head inside and prepare to join everyone in welcoming others. mark comes next, reaching out to place a hand on jinyoung’s shoulder. “i’m sorry,” he says, voice low. “i didn’t want this for you, jinyoungie. none of us did.”

jinyoung says nothing, and mark turns away, nodding as if he had expected it. he heads inside.

jinyoung doesn’t speak much at all, really. he stands there and lets jaebum do most of the work, pushing his husband forward when too many people talk to jinyoung, ask jinyoung how he’s feeling, try to parse his emotions, get a rise out of him. jaebum stumbles a little, but only sighs. without looking he motions for jinyoung to step aside, stay out of line of sight if he needs that moment. if he can’t do it.

yugyeom breaches past jaebum’s wall, reaches over to wrap his spindly arms around jinyoung right away. he’s incessantly tall, as per usual, and he has to bend down to really hug jinyoung well, but yugyeom does it all. his sniffs tell jinyoung that yugyeom probably doesn’t look much better off, and he’s right. matching with bambam right behind him, dressed to the nines in a dark suit, his pale face is reddened intensely by tears.

“hyung,” he starts, voice stuffy and tired, high strung. “hyung, please, say anything.”

but jinyoung doesn’t know what to say. he stares at yugyeom, his lips parting, and nothing comes out.

yugyeom sniffs, but it’s bambam who makes a tiny noise, like a wounded animal. then, jinyoung has two of them crying on him, reaching out to crush him between their bodies, and he can do nothing else but reach up and run his fingers through bambam’s hair, a hand at the nape of yugyeom’s neck. they’ll get his suit stained.

(grief didn’t feel like this. disassociated, quiet, desolate.)

youngjae is crying at jaebum’s shoulder, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the tears, but only serving to make them come out worse, faster, more insistent. jackson wraps an arm around youngjae’s shoulders and mark comes by to lead them both away, whispering to youngjae as he goes, and jaebum lets his hands drop to turn to jinyoung.

“hyung,” bambam says, his accent thicker, “hyungie, jinyoungie hyung, jaebum hyung.”

what’s there to say?

jaebum turns them back to the tables, where everyone is slowly being seated. it takes them a moment to be pried away from jinyoung, both of their hands reaching out to grab at jinyoung’s hair, his arms, to try and cling a little longer, to assuage some of their sadness in what seems like jinyoung’s emptiness.

jinyoung watches them go, inhales, and exhales. “i can’t do this,” he says suddenly, grabbing at jaebum’s suit sleeve. “i can’t do this, hyung.”

“jinyoung-ah – “

“please,” he says, but he doesn’t know what he’s begging for.

here they were, hours ago, watching as jaebum broke down in the bathroom as jinyoung held him afloat. here they are now, jinyoung cracking beneath the waves, letting the water pour into his lungs so he can drown.

grief, jinyoung thinks, feels like this: the expression that resides on his mother’s face when he sees her across the hall, the stiff lip of his father, his sisters waiting behind him. his eldest sister has a child with her, one around hyunjin’s age, around hyunjin’s height – the other sister, she holds onto a baby girl in a poufy dress. his mother greets jaebum, who has frozen in place, his eyes wide like he’s seeing a ghost. jinyoung hasn’t seen his parents in a lifetime, it feels like; the years must be growing like the edge of a vivacious, monstrous plant. each year is represented as a wrinkle, a fine line, on his father’s face. he’s become much more tanned and sun-worn. his mother has streaks of grey in her hair. she seems frail, her hands pressed to her chest as she turns to look at jaebum as if he, too, is dead. she seems frightened. jinyoung’s father stands close to his wife but never touches her, and the children that totter behind him – jinyoung’s nieces and nephews, he realizes numbly – look around curiously.

how strange, he thinks distantly, to realize that he’s become an adjacent part of their lives. are there still pictures of him around the house? in the photo books? do they tell their grandkids about him? does jinyoung yet exist inside their hearts?

he was their son once. he was born from their blood, and they raised him and wiped away his tears and rubbed lotion on his elbows and bandaged his cuts. maybe his father let him stay in the bathroom while he shaved.

and jinyoung, who had buried them, feels the dead rise again. hyunjin had been his entire life. he woke to see hyunjin’s smile and slept to dream of his family. when hyunjin threw tantrums jinyoung felt irritated but scared (what if he doesn’t want me anymore? what if i’m not good enough to be his father? what if - ) and when hyunjin cried jinyoung fell over to make it better. his son was everything, his husband - his family is everything.

how could they? how could they let him go?

(if you could lose me, did you love me at all?)

this is what grief feels like, old grief, unburied grief. cold and sharp and biting.

jinyoung pushes past the person who had been expressing their condolences to him, his face blank, feeling a chasm inside him so deep that it frightens him with the extent of its reach. he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, one that he’s gotten used to standing upon, but now he’s being pushed to the edge and there’s no one left to hold him back.

he pushes past jaebum, who lets jinyoung shoulder past him but remains two steps behind. there is still general, distinct chatter, but jinyoung only hears the ringing of his own ears. jaebum’s parents rush over, but jaebum shakes his head and holds them back. telling them to wait.

“you weren’t invited here,” he starts, not bothering with formalities. there is anger, but also apathy, and he’s running off of smoke and fumes, a certain ice in his bones that has yet to melt. “not by me. and i think it would be best if you left.”

“we headed over from jinhae,” boyoung starts, tugging her son forward, and jinyoung can’t look at him – he won’t, he won’t – his mother raises her eyes to meet his own. he gets most of his facial features from her; their wide monolids, their plush mouths, the same large ears. “jinyoung, we’re so – i’m so sorry.”

“sorry?”

“jinyoungie,” jaebum says quietly behind him. jinyoung hasn’t realized how silent the hall has gotten, how loud his own voice his, how he’s trembling.

“save your apologies,” he sneers, his breath coming in heavy and hard, constricting in his lungs. “what are you sorry for?”

“your son,” his mother says thinly, all of a sudden, her fingers clutching her hanbok so tightly that her knuckles turn white. “he – boyoung told us, and then – “ her eyes slide to eomoni, blinking endlessly, the edges turning red.

jaebum pulls jinyoung back, his arms around jinyoung. but you can’t hold back a storm.

jinyoung smiles humorlessly. “i guess you know how well it feels to lose a son,” he says, and oh god does it ache. “but i held onto mine until the very end. i can’t say the same for you.”

“park jinyoung,” his father says harshly on autopilot, as his mother inhales sharply. “don’t speak to your mother like that.”

“jinyoung,” jaebum continues to whisper, his voice a little more urgent.

jinyoung’s smile fades. he turns to eomoni, who is crying silently, who is pleading with jinyoung. for what, he doesn’t know. jinyoung turns back to his parents slowly. “i didn’t say anything to eomoni at all,” he says. “jaebum-ah, did i say anything rude to eomoni?”

“oh, jinyoung-ah, as if you would ever,” eomoni rasps, still standing at the back. the children at boyoung and soyoung’s side shuffle, nervous, aware that the situation is tense but unable to deal with it or process what’s happening. jinyoung resolutely doesn’t look at them.

“then i haven’t spoken to my mother rudely,” he finishes.

“no,” jaebum says, staring straight at jinyoung’s mother and father, “you haven’t. and people who come and want to cause strife aren’t welcome past these doors. we’re grieving for our child,” jaebum breathes harshly. “and this memorial is closed to the public. family only.”

jinyoung turns away, his eyes warm and zinging hot, something wet behind his eyes. he’s still so angry, still so cold. he desperately reaches for the steady beat of jaebum’s pulse, but even that is wild.

jaebum pulls him away. they rush together, shoulders pressed together, and jinyoung stumbles along until they’re pressed together in some distant, empty room. jaebum’s fingers curl around his biceps, brushes against the curve of his jaw. he makes jinyoung look at him instead at the familiar hollow of jaebum’s throat. jinyoung does as jaebum’s unsaid asks of him, meets the eyes of his husband, his lover, his best friend.

jaebum’s mouth is pressed together in a thin line. he roams his gaze over the lines of jinyoung’s face, searching for something. finally, he asks, “are you okay?”

“no,” jinyoung breathes without hesitation. “no, hyung, how could i be okay? hyunjinnie is dead, and the people who i want to bury are back to spite me. hyunjin is gone, but they’re here. how could i be okay? why are they here? i can’t – i don’t want to see them.”

jaebum shakes his head, pressing their foreheads together. “i don’t know why they’re here either,” he admits. “jinyoung, jinyoungie. it’s okay, you know.”

“what is?”

jaebum’s dry lips brushes across his forehead. he brings jinyoung in for a hug, pushing his head against jaebum’s shoulder, holding him down gently with a palm at the back of his head. jinyoung’s breath stutters in his chest. “to cry. you don’t have to be strong all the time, jinyoungie. you and hyunjin taught me that the best, didn’t you?”

jinyoung trembles.

his hands reach up to grasp the back of jaebum’s blazer. the same one he had put on jaebum earlier that day, had smoothed over. he smells like the aftershave that jinyoung had put on him.

it takes him a moment to realize that he’s sobbing.

/

jaebum asks jackson to take him back to the apartment. jinyoung objects to this vehemently, but he also doesn’t want to go back out to see everyone at the memorial. the remnants of his tears are very clear on his face: his eyes are swollen, face still splotchy pink, and his voice is all clogged up. he doesn’t want anyone to see him this way, much less his parents, much less any of their friends. he and jaebum were supposed to be morose, put together, tightly wound together. but jinyoung finds it increasingly hard to act. everything begins to cave in.

eventually, when jaebum pushes just a little bit too much, jinyoung yells that he won’t ever abandon his son, even in death. he won’t send him off without a proper goodbye. and jaebum’s bottom lip twitches, his eyes shiny. it’s the way jinyoung is still crying while he yells, it’s the way his voice turns hoarse as he keeps yelling, keeps screaming, besides who else would be able to hear? who else would even care? all jinyoung has is jaebum, all jinyoung has left of his little family that would understand is jaebum.

and when he’s left there, breathing heavily, wiping madly at his own face and blinking so he can try and see fucking clearly, jaebum is shooing jackson away. they take a moment to compose themselves. jinyoung doesn’t want to go out there with the remnants of tears on his face, but he’ll do it. fuck anyone who thinks less of him for losing his son.

he wishes, almost, that grief would feel like as it did in the hospital, in the days after – empty, and cold. it would be better than this, the persistent ebbing of an open wound.

jinyoung and jaebum both hold onto either side of hyunjin’s small coffin as they walk to the car, placing it inside. his hands are gentle. jaebum places a gloved hand on dark wood. from behind them, jinyoung can hear eomoni’s soft whimpers, abeoji’s hushed whispers.

they climb into the car, where mark and jackson are waiting. they say nothing as they drive away from the memorial, toward the crematory and funeral home.

jaebum reaches over to hold onto jinyoung’s hands. he grips them until his knuckles turn white. jackson turns around to look at them briefly before pressing a button. a dark screen pulls up between the front seats and the back, allowing them a semblance of privacy.

“we’re going to be okay,” jaebum says, voice rough. “we’re going to be okay.”

“we’re going to be okay,” jinyoung repeats, his words coming out thick. drops of wetness fall onto their open connected fingers. he’s not sure if it’s from him or from jaebum. it might be both of them. in the car, where all the windows are blacked out to provide them their semblance of privacy, jinyoung thinks of hyunjin on his last night. how he hurt, how he told them he was happy anyway. how he curled small fingers around jinyoung’s, how he insisted on jaebum’s palm on his stomach. how their little star shined so brightly. how it’s dark here now, without him.

“we’re going to be okay,” jinyoung repeats again, voice thinned out and high, almost desperate. if he tells himself this enough, won’t it come true? (didn’t he tell himself that hyunjin would be okay enough? why didn’t it come true?)

jaebum inhales shakily, the sound of it cracking through his lungs, and they hold onto each other for support through the dark.

/

jinyoung stands behind jaebum as they face hyunjin’s door. there’s a black and white sign that reads hwang hyunjin’s room!! except the hwang is crossed out. he didn’t want to keep his own last name, jinyoung remembers. he wanted to be park hyunjin one month, then im hyunjin the next. in the end they convinced him that trying to change his last name isn’t what would make his parents happy. he just had to be hyunjin. that’s all.

jaebum holds a small white ceramic urn. carved across the widest part of the urn are little stars rising over the largest of them all, a sun. underneath reads an inscription. jaebum’s wedding ring clinks against the side of it. he stares at the sign on hyunjin’s door.

jinyoung opens it for him. the room smells of hyunjin’s shampoo, his baby powder, and his laundry detergent. jinyoung moves slowly to hyunjin’s bed, where his blankets and pillows are still thrown all over the place. jaebum toes aside blocks that are littered across the rug of hyunjin’s floor. the window curtains are open, and it’s dark out.

jaebum places the urn on the small shelf that is part of hyunjin’s headboard. jinyoung runs his hands over the spines of all the books that hyunjin loved, their pages dog-eared and weary. hyunjin never let jinyoung organize his room, insisting that he would do it himself. having inherited his parents’ love of books and writing, hyunjin would ask insistently to buy blank notebooks to write his own stories. jinyoung pulls one of them out now as jaebum places the urn on the top of the shelf, his fingers running over the inscription.

the story is about a little boy, jinyoung reads, looking over hyunjin’s shaky handwriting. a little boy who grew up to be a prince, who travelled into the forest and lost his first family. but it was okay, because he was able to come out on the other side, and he found another family that loved him just as much. together, they painted portraits and ate kimchi stew and lived in a big palace, where the boy – who didn’t remember what he used to be – grew up to be a prince. the prince fell in love with a princess and they got married and lived with the boy’s parents and he was happy.

“the end,” jinyoung whispers. he closes the notebook, placing it back where it belongs. jaebum settles in next to him, voice low as he asks, “what?”

jinyoung’s eyes snag onto a familiar book, now years old, it’s pages yellow. he pulls it out regardless. jaebum follows his movements until his eyes fall upon the book in his hands.

“this was his favorite,” jinyoung says quietly. “he would ask me to read it to him all the time when he was younger, until he memorized the words before he knew how to read properly.”

“our little prince,” jaebum says, repeating the inscription on hyunjin’s urn.

our little prince,
hwang hyunjin.

jaebum pulls the book away from jinyoung, placing it next to the urn. jinyoung knows that he will never touch it again.

they settle into hyunjin’s small bed, pressed close to each other, their legs entangling underneath hyunjin’s small cover.

“we can fit now,” jinyoung says thickly, reaching over to direct jaebum’s arm to fit over the dip of his waist.

“we’ve made smaller spaces work,” jaebum responds, so close that jinyoung hears the whisper of breath up his throat when he speaks. “like when hyunjin tried to sneak into our bed during our time in the cabin. we should have double checked the booking. you were so startled. didn’t you think it was a raccoon?”

“he was insistent on sleeping by himself for six months by then,” jinyoung retorts, shivering at the coolness of jaebum’s fingers as they stroke his skin. “how was i supposed to know? but he never got rid of that habit in the end.”

“i wouldn’t have minded,” jaebum whispers. “if he did that when he was fifteen, eighteen, twenty, thirty. i wouldn’t have minded if he climbed back in and asked us to protect him, or hug him, or just be there.”

“me neither,” jinyoung blinks wildly. “even if he pushed me away, or we fought, or he argued to leave home – “

“rebelled, wanted to leave us when he was teenager because we weren’t cool enough for his friends – “

“wanted to move out for college, dated someone we didn’t approve of – “

“he can’t date until he’s twenty five, jinyoung – “

“he would have dated in high school, hyung, and forgot about his studies. he does that now, all of his crushes – “

“he could have gone to any school he wanted, been anything he wanted, but that doesn’t mean he still doesn’t need good grades – “

“i know, i never said he didn’t. just that he would have dated someone, and maybe we wouldn’t like them, or maybe we would. as long as they made hyunjin happy, as long as they took care of him, i would be okay with it.”

jaebum falls silent, reaches over to brush hair out of jinyoung’s eyes. for a moment, he himself feels like a teenager, careful and small, unsure of what the hell he’s doing or where he’s going, scared of something that he can’t quite name. in jaebum’s presence, in hyunjin’s small bed, jinyoung has never felt more afraid.

“we’re going to be okay,” jaebum says, stretched thin and wide, but his eyes insistent, wanting jinyoung to believe in him enough that their belief turns real. that if he keeps saying it enough, if jinyoung keeps believing in it enough, it might just come true. “jinyoung, we’re going to be okay.”

they sleep in hyunjin’s room that night, their little prince watching over them.

/

there are strange hiccups in their lives that make it hard for jinyoung to forget. not that he ever would, really – hyunjin’s death remains as an ever-present ache, one that isn’t truly whetted by time. sometimes, however, jinyoung can work through it without hurting too much; sometimes, he can pass the day by without having it overwhelm him. but there are strange hiccups, trips in his step, that leads him back toward falling. the pain is akin to scarring his knees – a brief, sharp spike of pain – before it dissipates to the ache again.

like: jaebum will be making breakfast in the morning and jinyoung is half asleep, sinking into the warmth of their bed, when there’s a loud crash from the kitchen that has jinyoung scrambling up to run toward the stove, already hastily pulling on a cardigan while he panics; “hyunjinnie, are you okay – “

and jaebum will just there, staring blankly at the stove, pots on the floor as he holds onto his reddening, burned fingers. jinyoung’s voice will trail away. he’ll look at the counter and see three plates instead of two, a brightly colored pokemon-themed cup. jinyoung will turn and slip his arms across jaebum’s waist, pressing his head and cheek against jaebum’s shoulder blades, just waiting.

and then jaebum will snap out of it, reaching down to place a hand over where jinyoung’s fingers are twisted into his sleep shirt, and he’ll say, “sorry, i was making breakfast half-asleep. burned myself by accident. where’s the burn cream?”

hyunjin’s school calls, one day, and miss moon asks jinyoung about hyunjin, why he hasn’t been at school for the past few weeks, if he’s okay, if he’s in the hospital again. (the last time he missed that much school, hyunjin had gotten pneumonia.) jinyoung says a few short sentences and then hangs up.

they return to work nearly a month later. jaebum drives them both in, pressing a kiss against jinyoung’s mouth. “i’ll see you at lunch,” he says, “i made dumplings yesterday night. i brought the soup that you made for lunch.”

“okay, keep it in the fridge,” jinyoung reminds him. he presses down the sharp fold of jaebum’s button up. “are you wearing a clip-on tie?”

“i’ll just change into scrubs anyway, what does it matter,” jaebum groans.

a faint, reminiscent smile makes its way to jinyoung’s face. “yeah, i guess so. see you later, doctor im.”

“see you later, nurse park.”

yugyeom greets him with a whine and a mug of burning hot tea, complaining that bambam never bought the good kind of tea that he liked – this leads to bambam whining in the background that he doesn’t know where jinyoung buys the tea, okay, and he doesn’t care – “aren’t you supposed to be my best friend? what kind of bff doesn’t know this?!” “you don’t know any luxury brands, kim yugyeom, don’t you dare!” – and the sound of them bickering lightens jinyoung’s mood.

he reaches into the small bag he’s brought with him and places a tin box of tea next to yugyeom. “stop it, bambam was trying his best.”

bambam looks triumphantly at yugyeom, his expression reading haha take that you loser. yugyeom sulks, reaching out an arm to hold the tin close to his chest. when he turns to jinyoung he’s a little uncharacteristically sweet, going, “thank you, jinyoungie hyung.”

“and bambam, if he was bothering you so much, you could have asked me, you know. were you not trying?”

bambam purses his mouth in an almost pout, ready to fight, but then he deflates. with a strange shyness jinyoung hasn’t seen from him in years, not since they first met and bambam spoke in stilted korean, he shrugs and plays with his pen. “i didn’t want to bother you.”

if jinyoung is a bit sweeter to them today than usual, pressing a warm hand to the both of their heads instead of ribbing them, watching over them as they dig into the sweet rice cakes he brought for everyone on his first day back, they don’t make a big deal out of it. in return, they seem to coddle closer to him than normal, careful not to be too much without being too little.

jinyoung tries not to think about why.

going back to work is like slipping into a different skin. there’s a strange hollowness to the gesture, like his limbs are moving without all of his brain there to conduct his movements. after so long, he’s become accustomed to the movement, the routine. mask firmly in place, he runs correspondence between the doctors and nurses, the patients and their parents. the days pass in blurred colors, without outstanding moments. he notices that jackson isn’t around as much. mark tells him that he’s working through some things. youngjae says, quieter, that he’s too afraid to face jinyoung and jaebum.

its all the same, jinyoung thinks as he greets the children, fixing their aches, bringing parents to their child’s side. it’s the same, he thinks as he reads them story books during lunch time and instructs the other nurses on which kids they’re to take care of for the week. it’s the same, he thinks as he laughs at a little girl who insists that she needs a ladybug bandaid because she’s princess of the ladybugs. it’s the same, jinyoung thinks, until he’s left with a woman is yelling at him in the corridor as doctors move her daughter away from the general rooms and into the icu rooms deeper inside the ward after a particularly bad seizure. she doesn’t want to be calmed, despite jinyoung’s best attempts, and when he says, “ma’am, please – we’re going to take care of your daughter as best as we can – “

“don’t touch me!” she yells, distraught, her hair in disarray. she turns to jinyoung after physically pulling herself away. “have you ever had a child?! you don’t understand, my daughter is going to die!”

and jinyoung inhales sharply, staring at her with wide eyes. the woman must see something in them, because she starts crying hysterically, falling in on herself, dropping to the floor. she wails into her hands, but the pain is real, it’s encompassing, it’s so overwhelming that it must leave her limbs without any strength. all she has is the fear, the uncertainty, of losing her child.

and jinyoung understands.

“she’s going to die,” the mother sobs, gripping at her hair. “i know it, i know it. god, please, why are you so cruel, please don’t take her away from me, please.”

jinyoung doesn’t realize that he’s crying silently, a mirror of the mother in front of him, until yugyeom is hurriedly pushing him away, whispering that he’ll take care of this, hyung, just go on. please.

at his little break room, where jinyoung goes to hide, he heads for the sink and splashes water on his face. the image that comes back to him is a ghost of a man. face thinned by lost weight, eyes sunken in, cheeks pale except for two high spots on his cheeks. jinyoung doesn’t recognize this mirror image. it’s as if everything has shifted to the side by one degree, as if there is just something slightly off all the time.

it’s not the same, he thinks.

/

they’re too tired for intimacy by sleeping together. jinyoung is emotionally, physically exhausted to do anything else but trade kisses with jaebum. something above their head lingers; before, it was the thought of hyunjin sneaking into their room one night and being forever scarred at his parents rumbling together in the sheets; now, it’s the thought that he never will.

still, other types of intimacy are okay. jaebum’s aftershave, his warm and sturdy body against jinyoung’s, his hand at the dimple on jinyoung’s lower back. it’s all jinyoung can take, right now. they never sleep in hyunjin’s room again.

/

“excuse me,” a young man says over the edge of the booth. jinyoung turns away from the computer to look at him, smiling. he looks nervous and young. he can’t be any older than a high schooler, with a little girl cradled in his arms, her face buried against the young man’s neck. “my sister, i think she has a fever and – and my parents aren’t home, this was the closest hospital i could find, could someone please look at her?”

“of course,” jinyoung says, standing up. “did you measure her fever?”

“thirty nine degrees,” he says. jinyoung takes a stack of papers and a new file to lead them into a new room. he motions for them to sit down on the bed, the little girl sniffling and pulling away from her brother to lie down on the bed. jinyoung’s eyes slide over to the youngest for a moment before he turns away. “i just need to ask you some questions, okay? what’s her name?”

“choi heeyoung. my name is choi jinyoung.”

“oh, my name is jinyoung too,” he smiles while taking her temperature, insisting the little girl open her mouth to take the thermometer. he checks her blood pressure and notes down both values. “okay, jinyoung. do you think you could fill this form in? it’s just about your sister’s allergies, medicines, any previous health conditions. we’re going to have to call your parents, though, which is why it also asks for their information. but you did good, bringing your sister here. we’ll take care of her well, okay?”

“okay,” choi jinyoung replies, taking the form. “thank you. c-can i stay here until they come?”

“of course.”

jinyoung waits until the younger jinyoung hands him the finished file, focusing on heeyoung, who blinks blearily at the nurse. he smiles down at her. “hey there, are you feeling okay?”

“tired,” the little girl whines. “an’ thirsty. i want mommy.”

“we’re going to call your mommy right now,” jinyoung tweaks her nose gently. “don’t worry. your brother is going to stay here with you.”

he bids them goodbye as he leaves the door, closing it behind him gently. youngjae comes out of a room and quickly meets eyes with jinyoung, who ushers him over. “oh, you’re here. i was going to give this case to you – choi heeyoung, age four. her brother is inside. she looks like she’s got the flu, from what i heard of her lungs and her fever.”

youngjae nods, taking the chart from jinyoung. “are you going to call her parents, hyung?”

“yeah, her older brother gave me their information. i’m assuming he couldn’t reach them before, but a call from the hospital isn’t something most people ignore.” jinyoung flips to the form younger jinyoung filled out. “i’ll let you know when they’re…”

“hyung?” youngjae peers at him questioningly, noting the way jinyoung freezes. “hyung?”

“nothing,” jinyoung smiles, but it’s see-through. youngjae, out of the kindness of his heart, doesn’t point it out. “nothing, youngjae.”

he heads back to the front desk and settles in, meeting yugyeom’s eyes briefly as the other is on the phone. jinyoung sets the form in front of him, staring at the names on the paper, at the neat handwriting that reads out both the numbers of minyoung’s parents in clean font. he takes a moment, thinks about the little girl in the room, and reaches over to punch in the number.

his hands feel unnaturally clammy when a soft, familiar-but-unfamiliar voice picks up on the other side, questioning greeting, “hello? who is this?”

“soyoung,” jinyoung says.

/

his eldest sister was so far apart in age from him that jinyoung sometimes felt as though she were another mother, when they were younger. jinyoung had always been closer with boyoung, once upon a time. soyoung was always a step ahead; in high school when jinyoung was in fifth grade, graduating college as jinyoung started high school. absent, when jinyoung was kicked out of his home. but he remembers how sweet she was to him, how she would laugh with him and push him to do greater things, swing higher, take him out when his parents wouldn’t let him. she was the coolest, he remembers thinking about her once upon a time, the most mysterious, someone he couldn’t touch.

he doesn’t know quite how to feel when soyoung shows up with her husband, the brother in law that jinyoung never knew, obviously rushed. she meets jinyoung’s eyes and it’s like she doesn’t recognize him, which is fine, because he doesn’t recognize her.

“where is she, my daughter?” soyoung asks, frantic. “is she okay?”

“she’s fine,” jinyoung says. “she caught a bad flu, but her doctor gave her some fluids and antivirals. we’ll keep her overnight, but she’s fine. her room is down the hall, to the left, number five.”

soyoung lets out a relieved breath. jinyoung is taller than her, he notices. her hair is longer than he’s ever seen it, colored a rich chestnut brown, and she has multiple wrinkles around her eyes and smile lines around her mouth. her husband looks between the both of them, and rests a hand on soyoung’s shoulder. “i’m going to go check on the kids,” he tells her. she nods, distracted, and stares back at jinyoung, drinking him in.

“you’re a nurse,” soyoung begins, even though it’s the obvious. “you…”

“your daughter is okay,” jinyoung’s eyes slide to where his brother in law is walking away to the room jinyoung has specified for him. “she was brought in by your eldest son. he looks like he has a good head on his shoulders. the flu isn’t that bad, but for little kids, it has the potential to get worse.”

“jinyoung.”

“there is a pharmacy here that you can get the medication easily from.”

“jinyoung – “

“i’ll make sure that it gets there quickly.”

“jinyoung,” soyoung snaps, her voice rising just the tiniest bit, but its enough for jinyoung to flinch. “god, you’re just like you were as a teenager.”

jinyoung’s face hardens. he steps away from his sister, turning back to sit at his desk. he hears her exhale again, worriedly going, “no, that’s not what i meant. just – jinyoung. please, look at me.”

and despite every cell in his body screaming at him not to, jinyoung turns around and looks. he really sees soyoung for the first time in nearly twenty some odd years.

and she looks like him, tired and worn out, like she’s hanging by a thread. like she’s telling herself everyday that it’s going to be okay, and that if she tells herself that it will be okay long enough, it might come true.

he vaguely realizes that yugyeom has turned around to stare at him in worry, his eyes flitting between jinyoung and the woman who looks like him – really, he looks like her – but unsure of when, where, or if he should even butt in. jinyoung asks, “can you take over for a little bit? i’m going to take my lunch break early.”

“of course, hyung,” yugyeom assures him, turning to soyoung and looking straight her when he says, a little curtly, “you know you’re like my brother.”

soyoung very clearly flinches at that.

jinyoung runs a comforting hand on yugyeom’s nape, a silent thank you or maybe you don’t have to do that for me or even a wordless expression of gratitude, just knowing that yugyeom is still by his side after all these years, that they’re still family no matter what. jinyoung motions for soyoung to follow him, and they walk in quiet as jinyoung leads them to a small café on the floor. he buys them both a hot cup of coffee. soyoung doesn’t attempt to convince him not to pay, just watches quietly as jinyoung hands her a to-go cup, as they sit down at a table close to the corner.

she stares down at her hands for some time, hair falling out of the loose bun at the back of her head. jinyoung doesn’t know what to say.

“i’m sorry,” soyoung begins. “for showing up like that. mother had gotten an invitation from your in-laws, and we didn’t know…well, we didn’t know you had gotten married, or had a son. or that he – “ she inhales shakily. “it was a bad decision, but we didn’t see you for years, jinyoung. it hurt quite a bit.”

jinyoung remains quiet, not wanting to say the words that are bubbling right underneath the surface.

“i know that it wasn’t your fault. hell, when i came back from school – “ she laughs bitterly. “i didn’t even know. they never told anyone. the neighbors thought you ran away, and mom and dad just kept that lie going.”

“it wasn’t a lie. i did run away.”

“you were kicked out,” soyoung bites. she softens a moment later. her lips press together the same way jinyoung’s does, sometimes. “don’t pretend like they didn’t do something horrible to you. but it hurt them as much as it hurt you, i think. they never took down your photos.”

“they never looked for me either. they never tried to apologize.”

soyoung tilts her head to the side, acknowledging that. “i did,” she says, muted. “i looked for you for years, but i couldn’t ever find you. i didn’t know if it was because you didn’t want to be found, or if you just disappeared. i didn't know if you were okay, or if you were in trouble, or even dead. and then we got that call for the funeral,” her voice trembles into a whisper. “i’ve never seen mom look like that. it was as if someone had stolen the soul from inside her. she had a grandchild she never knew about.”

jinyoung curls his fingers into a fist at the table.

“it’s fucked up,” soyoung says. “i know it is. they never thought – i can’t tell you how mom and dad feel, jinyoung. i don’t know what they expected, when they showed up. boyoung told me you married a nice doctor, that she had found you, a week before the funeral itself. i was so angry at her for never telling me. she knew i was looking for you for over a decade.”

“you named your son after me.”

soyoung nods mutely. “i missed you terribly,” she says roughly. “my little brother.”

jinyoung doesn’t want to say sorry. he doesn’t want to say that he’s sorry for leaving, or that it doesn’t still hurt, the wound that remains after years, the feeling of cold rain on his skin, the memory of stumbling into jaebum’s family after losing his own. the blood he had so desperately tried to rid himself of. because now? he’s okay. he has jaebum, and jaebum’s parents, and – and – and –

“your daughter,” jinyoung starts, before he loses himself again. “she’s – is she – “

soyoung shakes her head, resting her face in her hands. her shoulders shake, just briefly. “she got sick once, as a baby. it left her immunocompromised for the rest of her life. she’s always going to get sick badly, and i just – i don’t – “ soyoung sighs.

and despite the rage, the hurt that still rumbles in jinyoung like a festering wound, he looks at his sister after twenty years of space between them and has never felt closer to her. he thinks about himself as a teenager, stumbling through the dark, and wonders if he had ever grown out of that hurt like he expected himself to. jinyoung thinks that mark is right, has always been right, about him: he wears his heart too openly on his sleeve, no matter how much he likes to pretend he doesn’t.

jinyoung doesn’t forgive her, doesn’t pretend that he does (not yet, not all of them) – but he does reach over and hold onto his sister’s hand, lets her grip tightly to his fingers, an unexpected anchor.

because jinyoung understands. what it’s like, to lose the tiny stars in your life, to watch as they slowly die out. wondering if there is anything you can do to prevent it from happening, knowing at the back of your mind that no matter what you do it’ll happen anyway. stumbling, again, in the dark. he understands how it feels.

he wouldn’t begrudge his sister of this. it’s different now. time may not have soothed how they hurt him, but it has given him perspective on the pain. he had once thought that he could remove the way they hurt him just by finding a new family, by loving other people, but he’s grown up and learned.

for the matters of the heart, they’ll always be stumbling in the dark, and as long as jinyoung keeps loving his parents and his sisters, their absence from his life will always hurt him.

“i’ll take you back to your kids,” jinyoung says, urging soyoung to stand up on her own feet. this is the best thing he can do for her, as far apart as they are now. “youngjae, their doctor, will take good care of your daughter.”

“thank you,” she sighs, squeezing his hand one more time before letting the connection fall apart.

/

it’s raining.

“what are you thinking about?” jaebum mumbles, pressing a kiss against jinyoung’s bare shoulder. the cool metal of his wedding ring sends shivers dancing across jinyoung’s blanket-warm skin. jaebum’s wild, uncombed hair tickles his neck.

“it’s raining,” jinyoung says, nodding to the open window that allows cool air in. he shifts a little so he can lean against jaebum a bit more, stealing his warmth. “we should close that, it’ll make the room all cold.”

“you can warm me up,” jaebum sleepily mouths at the curve of jinyoung’s ear, down to his jaw. “was that too cheesy?”

“it was disgusting,” jinyoung says, smiling slightly. “you’ve slipped.”

“i don’t have to impress my husband anymore, so what’s the point?”

“as if you ever did in the first place.”

jaebum makes a little hurt sound. he digs his fingers into jinyoung’s side. “jinyoungie.”

“i’m joking,” jinyoung laughs, “you’re very impressive, very impressive. that’s why you do all the cooking now!”

jaebum snorts. “you’re just lazy and don’t want to do it yourself. all those cooking lessons have gone to waste, jinyoung-ah.”

“sure have,” jinyoung agrees. “now i can sit back and enjoy being spoiled.”

“as if you didn’t do that in the first place.”

jinyoung reaches over to pinch jaebum’s ear, daring him to say it again, and jaebum does, mouthing it all over jinyoung’s skin. he turns to the window again, letting jaebum’s familiar and sweet movements calm him into a steady rhythm. the rain rushes harder, harder, and jinyoung’s face turns up in a small smile, but his eyes are downturned.

“do you think hyunjin is happy?”

jaebum pauses. a heartbeat passes between them. “yeah, i think so.”

jinyoung turns to him then, meeting his eyes. “do you think we’ll ever have another one, again?”

“maybe,” jaebum whispers, pressing a kiss against jinyoung’s mouth, searching for an answer. “i don’t know. i still dream about him, sometimes, our little prince.”

“yeah,” jinyoung says, turning back to the window. “me too. it doesn’t stop hurting.”

“i don’t ever want it to,” jaebum admits. he buries himself in jinyoung’s neck, wrapping his arms around jinyoung’s middle, and jinyoung reaches up to run his hands through jaebum’s mess of hair. as long as jinyoung loves him, hyunjin’s absence will always hurt. but that’s good, he thinks. the hurt. it reminds him that jinyoung loved him once upon a time, at all.

outside, it continues to rain, the sky shadowed by gray clouds. the air is cold, biting, and sharp, the way jinyoung’s grief feels, but soon it’ll stop raining. it’ll fade away, even as the petrichor remains behind, and jinyoung will see the sun again. he leans back into jaebum and intertwines their fingers, the both of them mulling over what-ifs, the future, and each other, grounding themselves at each other’s pulse. at the end of the day, jinyoung’s family is right here, curled around him.

they’ll make it through today to see tomorrow. it’s enough, for now.