Chapter Text
“You’ve improved.”
“Still can’t bend myself in half like you can.” Jeongguk grumbled, glaring at Jimin. He snickered, reaching over to poke at the top of Jeongguk’s grass stained shoe. Jimin sat in the grass in a side split, elbows digging into the ground, chin in his hands. Jeongguk, on the other hand, had both his legs stretched out in front of him, pulling his toes towards his body. It hurt like hell, but at least he could do it. Bam, who Jimin had brought along that morning, rolled around in the grass a few feet away, content.
This was their third day stretching together, not counting the first. Jimin had been surprisingly grumpy the past two mornings, in which Jeongguk learned that he was not a morning person. Seven a.m was in fact, too early for him. Jeongguk offered to change the time, but Jimin waved him off with nothing more than a smile. He quickly learned that Jimin didn’t mind pushing aside his own personal preferences for the people he liked. Well, Jeongguk assumed Jimin liked him. He didn’t seem irritated during any of the times they had hung out together.
“You also, as I have observed, tend not to stretch properly.” Jimin eased himself up, sliding his legs into a criss cross. Jeongguk took that as a sign to relieve his own position, which he did with a groan.
“Now I am, so you can’t ridicule me.” Bam saw them move and bounded over, immediately plopping himself into Jimin’s lap. He giggled, running a hand over his head. Jeongguk smiled at the two of them, leaning over to give Bam his own affection. “So do we have a plan for Lotte World?”
“To get the most time in the park, we probably want to get on the earliest train, so we need to be at the station by eight. What time do you usually get Heeseung to bed?”
“Since we’re on vacation, ten.”
Jimin tilted his head squinting as he did the math in head. “So we’ll need to be out of the park by six p.m, which gives us roughly six hours to mess around.”
“Heeseung will most definitely be exhausted.” Jeongguk sighed happily. “I will have the easiest time getting him to sleep.”
Jimin giggled. “You know, for as much as you say you love your kids, you sure seem happier when they’re not awake.”
“I love them whether they’re awake or asleep. I just know how to appreciate the hours I don’t need to watch them to the fullest.” He lifted his head from Bam’s back, putting it on Jimin’s knee instead. “You’ll understand when you have a wife and kids of your own—alone time is precious.”
Jimin chuckled. “Jeongguk, I’m not ever getting a wife.”
“Don’t say that!” Jeongguk gasped. “Hyung, I know you think you’re old,”—he made an offended noise Jeongguk ignored— “But that doesn’t mean that you should give up hope. You’ll find a beautiful girl who likes kids just as much as you do. Who knows, maybe she’ll be one of the idols you work with.”
Jimin’s smile was slow to take place and seemed a bit… forced to him. “Thank’s Jeongguk.”
Jeongguk was starting to think that he was seriously missing something. Jimin kept making these comments that he thought he understood but Jimin seemed disappointed in his answers. Like it was a code that he failed time and time again to crack.
But if it was really important, Jimin would tell him, right?
“Are you doing anything this evening?”
Jimin’s face scrunched as Bam licked his chin. He pushed him away gently, urging the dog to go run around. “Not really. Why?”
“Do you want to come over and watch a movie? My parents and I used to always do Thursday evening movie nights because my dad always had the day off.” He grinned. “I thought it would be something fun to introduce to the boys while we’re here. Might continue it at home if they like it.”
It would be a good way to cement more time together as a family—Jeongguk would insist that Heejin ask for Thursday evenings off. It might repair some of the frayed edges of their relationship…
“Sure,” he paused. “Actually, what time?”
“Around seven. It would be enough time for one movie for the boys and then after they go to bed us adults can watch something a bit more risque.” He wiggled his eyebrows, making Jimin laugh.
“And what would you consider to be risque?” Jimin challenged, a glint in his eyes that Jeongguk didn’t think he'd seen before.
“Uh, I don’t know. Dirty Dancing?”
“You’re such a parent.” He reached out, poking Jeongguk in the cheek and making him scowl. “Come on Jeonggukie, that’s such an innocent movie.”
He pouted. “Then what were you thinking?”
“Fifty Shades of Grey,” was his immediate response and Jeongguk choked on nothing, coughing violently. Jimin threw his head back in laughter, flopping back in the grass. He writhed with giggles while Jeongguk tried to get his face under control. He swore he had gone through the five stages of grief in that one moment.
“Holy shit, Jimin,” he croaked, burying his face in his hands. “That was not what I was expecting you to say at all.”
“It’s Jimin hyung,” he corrected, popping back out of the grass. Jeongguk peeked at him through his fingers. “And it was worth it—the look on your face.”
Jeongguk lowered his hands grimacing. “I will never forget when I was introduced to that movie. My friend Isaiah and I were on a double blind date. They were doing a special showing of it in the theaters—the girls said they wanted to see it.”
“Jeongguk, no.” Jimin gasped, eyes widening and lips trembling.
“We had no idea what we were walking into.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Scarred for life.”
Jimin snorted. “I don’t know what to be more impressed by, the fact that you stayed through the whole movie or that you didn’t know what it was in the first place.”
“I don’t typically pay attention to fan-fiction turned book turned movie things,” he huffed. “All I know is that I’m never watching it again. Especially not with my parents in the room.” He shuddered at the thought.
“It’s alright Jeongguk-ah, I’m not particularly fond of the movie either.” He chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. “How about we pick a movie with your parents? That way everyone’s happy.”
“We’re going to end up watching Legally Blonde.” Jeongguk already knew. It was the movie his dad always wanted to watch and because his mom was a sap, she’d always agree. He was outvoted every time.
Jimin shrugged. “I could watch a movie with Luke Wilson.”
“He’s not too bad on the eyes,” Jeongguk said thoughtlessly. Jimin’s eyes snapped to him, wide and surprised. Jeongguk fumbled, face heating. “I mean, in an objective sense. Because objectively, he’s attractive. According to other people. Yeah.”
“Right,” Jimin breathed, looking away. Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek, watching him. It looked like he was trying to figure something out, like Jeongguk’s words were a puzzle to him. He physically shook his head, eyes clearing. He cleared his throat. “Well, I should actually get going. I’ve got to catch the KTX to Seoul.”
Jeongguk’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh, then I shouldn’t keep you. Though, I thought you were on vacation…?”
“Meeting up with my friends,” he explained with a fond smile. “Most of them are pretty busy so when we’re all free we never miss an opportunity to get together.”
“That sounds nice.” Jeongguk smiled, ignoring the ping of envy in his chest. He didn’t see his friends from college much anymore—hadn’t really since he became a full time dad.
Jimin peered at him thoughtfully. “You can come, if you’d like. I’m sure they’d love to meet you-”
Jeongguk immediately waved his hands in protest. “Oh no, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t be intruding.” He said softly. “I think you’d fit right in—we clicked together pretty fast so I’m sure you’d do the same with everyone else.”
It was a tempting offer, one that he didn’t want to refuse. Sure, the idea of going into a social situation with people he didn’t know wasn’t ideal, but Jimin would be there. And Jimin made things easier.
Confused by the warmth in his chest, Jeongguk flashed him a grateful smile. “Thanks hyung, but I think I’ll sit this one out. I don’t think my kids would forgive me if I was gone for too long.”
“Having kids doesn’t mean that you can’t go out and have fun,” he pointed out gently. Jeongguk opened his mouth to protest, but Jimin just shook his head with a small smile. “But I can respect your decision.”
He relaxed. “Thank you, hyung.”
“No worries,” he got to his feet. “But if I invite you out again, don’t turn me down.”
He reached down, small hand clapping around Jeongguk’s wrist as he helped him up. Stronger than he was expecting, Jeongguk ended up bumping chests with him. Their close proximity made him strangely nervous, stomach flipping at the fact that Jimin had to tilt his head up to keep eye contact. His eye smile was a bit dangerous, fueled by the smirk on his lips.
“You were, after all, the one who wanted to hang out.”
He didn’t know why his mouth was suddenly dry. Jimin’s eyes flickered down—just a brief second—before snapping back up with a flash of guilt and panic. He stepped away, letting his fingers fall from Jeongguk’s skin.
“So seven?”
The bright, cheery voice was a large contrast to the teasing murmur. Jeongguk felt like he had experienced whiplash, and it took him a moment to understand what Jimin was referring to.
“Yeah, seven,” he forced out.
“I’ll be there. Might be a little late though,” he laughed. “I always am no matter how early I leave.”
Jeongguk chuckled. “Does that mean you’re going to be late to your meeting with friends?”
“Probably.” Jimin grinned before calling Bam over. “I’ll see you tonight, Jeongguk-ah.”
“See you later.”
Jeongguk watched as Jimin walked away with Bam, the loyal dog sticking close to his side. Distracted, his mind returned to that earlier moment. He didn’t know what had happened to make Jimin display those emotions. Despite trying to understand for a few more minutes, Jeongguk gave up. How was he supposed to know Jimin’s thoughts?
“Dad, I wanna talk to mom.”
It was an innocent request, one that shouldn’t cause panic to grab him in a vice grip, but it still did. For a few seconds, Jeongguk could only stare down at Heeseung, crayon clutched tightly in his hand. He set down the coloring object slowly, swallowing back the lump in his throat. He glanced at the time, mentally doing the math—Heejin would probably be awake and getting up for work.
“Sure buddy,” he managed. “We can try, but you have to remember that there’s a time difference. Mom might not answer.”
Heeseung pouted, the excitement in his eyes dimming. “She won’t answer?”
“It’s not that she won’t.” He hurried to reassure, but he knew that it was useless to pick his mood back up unless he heard Heejin’s voice himself. Sighing, Jeongguk got up to go find one of his parents.
He found his dad in the kitchen, sticking his finger into a batch of brownie batter. He looked up in alarm when Jeongguk entered, freezing like a deer caught in headlights. Jeongguk crossed his arms, raising one eyebrow.
“...don’t say anything to your mother.”
“I won’t say a word.” Jeongguk promised. He lost count of how many times his father had caught him doing the same thing when he was younger. “Can I borrow your phone? Heeseung wants to talk to Heejin.”
“What happened to your phone?”
Jeongguk smiled sourly. “Nothing. She blocked me.”
Jeongho’s mouth dropped open in shock before anger flickered over his face. “She blocked you? Why in the world would she-?”
“I have no idea.”
No, that was a lie. He knew. He hadn’t told his parents that Heejin had basically told him that he could break his vows during his little ‘vacation.’ He hadn’t told them that she told him to erase her from his memory. Heejin knew him better than he knew himself sometimes. She had blocked him so that he couldn’t call her and try to keep that connection alive. She wanted to sever it completely for two weeks—in her mind that was helping.
But you couldn’t erase memories.
You couldn’t ignore feelings.
For the past two days he had picked up his phone multiple times with the intent to call her and talk about what was going on, but all of his calls would ring once before going to voicemail. He had left one, telling her to unblock him so they could talk, but because he was still blocked, he knew that she had ignored him. It frustrated him to no end.
“My phone’s on the table.” His father finally muttered, glowering at the brownie batter bowl. He grabbed a spatula, scraping the contents into the pan. Maybe it was a bad thing to feel validated that his dad was showing the same frustration that he felt, but Jeongguk allowed himself to accept this one.
“Thanks dad.”
He swiped the phone up, dialing the number without hesitation. That didn’t mean that his heart wasn’t in his throat. Maybe Heejin would ignore a call from her father-in-law too. Maybe-
The line clicked, signaling that that call went through. A second later, Heejin's hesitant, panic edged voice filled Jeongguk’s ear.
“H-hey dad! You don’t usually call. What-”
“I would have accepted the fact that you blocked me if that didn’t mean that you blocked my way of contacting you when Heeseung wants to talk to you.” Jeongguk interrupted, his tone surprisingly even. Even though he couldn’t see her, the audible sigh of relief filled his mind with her shoulders sagging and lips quirking up into a smile.
“Sorry. I thought it would be easier-”
“I know your reasons. I don’t agree with them.” He said lowly. “But I’ll respect your wishes and just hand you over to Heeseung.” He shifted into the living room, smiling when Heeseung looked up with wide eyes.
“Is that mom?!” He gasped.
“Yeah bud.” Jeongguk glanced up at the time. It was seven, but true to Jimin’s words, he was late. Hopefully Heeseung would be done by the time Jimin arrived.
“Hold on! Give me a second!” The panic had returned to her voice. Jeongguk frowned as he heard a door open and close, like she left a room. It was far too early for her to be at work though. “Okay, you can hand me over now.”
Jeongguk lowered the phone, passing it over to Heeseung. But not before putting it on speaker. He excitedly started babbling into the phone. Jeongguk couldn’t hear what he was saying though, his mind whirling as he sat down on the couch. He blankly watched Jungwon stack blocks, already so meticulous with the placement.
He could understand her panic with the initial call—she wouldn’t have expected him not to tell his parents what happened. She had been expecting some sort of backlash, which cemented the fact that she didn’t know his parents very well. But after that? There was no reason for her to tell him to wait while she left a room-
Unless there had been someone with her.
Jeongguk set his jaw, glancing back at Heeseung.
“-and tomorrow, I’m going to Lotte World!”
“Lotte World! Wow that sounds like so much fun my little guy. Your dad is spoiling you.”
“Dad’s not taking me. Uncle Jiminie is!”
Heejin was quiet for a moment. “Uncle Jiminie? Do you mean Junghyun?”
“No?” Heejin pouted. “Uncle Jiminie. Who is Junghyun?”
Jeongguk chuckled quietly to himself, a brief relief from the anger that lined his clenched fists.
“Junghyun is your dad’s older brother… where did you meet Uncle Jiminie?”
“On the plane! He let me sit by the window and then he went with us all the way to grandma and grandpa’s house. He’s grandma and grandpa’s neigh-bor.” He sounded out the word carefully. “Oh! He has a big puppy mom! His name is Bam! He’s a- what was he again dad?”
“A doberman.”
“A doberman! He was as big as me!”
“I-I see.”
“Uncle Jiminie is really pretty too!” Heeseung looked over at Jeongguk. “Right dad?!”
Jeongguk’s eyes widened in shock. “Uh- well I- he-”
“If your dad’s stuttering he must be.” Heejin muttered. There was no mistaking the bitterness in her voice. Jeongguk grit his teeth, unable to stop the growl.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“...nothing.”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing-”
“Jeongguk, don’t pick a fight with me right now. You don’t have to get so defensive over one little comment!”
“It wasn’t the comment!” He snapped. “I’ll admit all day and any day that Jimin is pretty—no, what bothered me was the bitterness in your voice. Like you have any right-”
“Uhm.”
Jeongguk’s head snapped up, body going stone cold the second he caught sight of Jimin with his mother at the edge of the room. Jimin’s cheeks were flushed red as he stared at Jeongguk, bottom lip caught between his teeth. His mother’s own eyes were wide, lips parted in a gasp.
Heejin hadn’t heard him.
“Don’t even start, Jeongguk. We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you-”
Even with an audience, Jeongguk couldn’t let that stand.
“Don’t you even dare tell me I’m doing something wrong by calling someone pretty,” he snapped. “Especially after what you said to me before I left.”
“Jeongguk, take the conversation upstairs or don’t finish it at all.” His mother hissed, cutting off whatever response Heejin was making. Jimin shifted at her side, clearly uncomfortable.
Any other time Jeongguk would be embarrassed and try to shove himself in the nearest trash can, but anger was still flowing through his blood, liquid hot. He reached for the phone.
“I didn't get to finish telling mom about Bam.” Heeseung whined, his eyes growing glassy. Jeongguk’s anger ebbed at the sight of his son tearing up. He sighed heavily.
“Heejin,” he murmured. “Talk with Heeseung a bit more please.”
He didn’t wait to hear her response, getting up off the couch. He ignored the eyes on him, marching straight to the back door. He ripped it open, stepping out into the cooling night.
Jeongguk plopped down at the edge of the porch, releasing the breath that he had been holding. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes.
That had been so stupid of him.
How could he have gotten into an argument with her so quickly? In the presence of his kids too. His mom had been there—his dad was just in the other room… Jimin.
Jeongguk buried his face in his hands, exhaling shakily. He was such a fool. A reckless, idiodic-
The door opened, and Jeongguk groaned, not even lifting his head.
“Mom, I love you, but give me at least five minutes to accept the fact that I screwed up.”
“I’m not your mom.”
Jimin’s quiet voice carried easily across the silent night. Jeongguk lifted his head, looking at him over his shoulder. Jimin had one hand on the door behind him, eyes somewhere on Jeongguk’s shoulder instead of actively looking at him. His lip was still caught between his teeth—something Jeongguk guessed was a nervous habit.
“I didn’t mean to… disturb you.” He murmured. “I just figured it wasn’t right for me to stay in the room while Heeseung talked with her…”
“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk sighed. “I didn’t mean to put you in that position.”
He waited for Jimin to shrug and smile, for him to say it was okay, but it didn’t come. Jimin’s eyes shifted to the ground, shoulders tight. Jeongguk’s stomach churned—it wasn’t okay. Jimin was upset.
“You’re upset.”
Jimin pursed his lips. “Yeah.”
“I’m really sorry.” Jeongguk dragged a hand through his hair. “Heeseung said that you were pretty and then he asked me-”
“I’m not mad that you complimented me.” Jimin tilted his chin up, voice steady, but disappointed. Jeongguk swallowed. “I’m mad that you used it as a weapon against your wife as a way to get back at her for something.”
“I didn’t mean-”
“Doing that not only turns it into a backhanded compliment, but it also makes me uncomfortable and upset because I’ve now become a point of contention between the two of you.” He sighed heavily. “So much for being able to show up on your doorstep without it being awkward.”
In any other conversation it would have been funny, but neither of them laughed. Jeongguk twisted his fingers, emotion building up behind his eyes. He hurriedly looked down, not wanting Jimin to see his expression faltering.
“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to.” The words were wet. “I never meant to pull you into my family drama. Especially not like that, where I hurt you. That’s unfair and-and cruel.”
There was a light touch on his shoulder. He startled, eyes shooting up. Jimin crouched beside him. He searched his face, worrying into his lip.
“I know you didn’t mean to. Emotions were high—people say things without thinking in those situations all the time.” His hand slipped off his shoulder as he sat down next to him. Their arms pressed together, the touch comforting. “I forgive you.”
Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek, guilt eating away at him even with Jimin’s forgiveness.
Neither of them spoke for a few moments. The quietness of the night helped quell the anger, frustration, and embarrassment that he felt. It helped to have Jimin next to him, a constant comfort. He was lucky to have someone removed from the situation. Jimin could see his faults and call him out on those. It was funny, Jeongguk had expected that from his parents, but they had been so quick to take his side.
“Can I-” Jeongguk looked over at Jimin. He had his head tilted up, eyes on the sky. His cheeks puffed cutely with air before he released it slowly. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Yeah.”
“The reason you came to South Korea… it’s because you and Heejin are fighting, isn’t it?”
His ring finger burned.
“Yes.”
“...it’s not a typical fight, is it?”
Jeongguk laughed bitterly, blinking back harsh tears. “She doesn’t think I love her.”
And that was the issue wasn't it? It was the cause of all of this. It was the reason she cheated—the reason he had even considered divorce. Because he didn’t love her.
“You’re proving her right.”
His head snapped to Jimin in shock. He stared back, unmoved.
“Think about it, Jeongguk. You’re thousands of miles away from her right now. Instead of reassuring her and showing her that you do in fact love her, you’re here. Hurting and angry. You’re making the chasm deeper than it needs to be.”
Oh he wished it was that simple. This was one corner of a darker picture. One that he still didn’t feel right sharing.
“Hyung, if it was just a matter of reassurance, I wouldn’t be here.” He rasped. “I really wouldn’t. It’s a lot more complicated than that.”
“How?” He demanded quietly. “Explain and maybe I’ll understand-”
He couldn’t keep it in anymore.
“She was right.”
Jimin’s eyes widened. Jeongguk’s lower lip wobbled.
“I told her that she’s right. I still love her, but I don’t… I don’t love her like I used to. It’s all platonic now.” The words tumbled out of his mouth, unable to be stopped. “I don’t know what happened. It’s not like I wanted to stop- no, that’s the last thing I want. I loved her so much that it physically hurt sometimes-” he clutched at his shirt, feeling that pain now. But not the same kind of pain. The pain of having an empty void where his love for her used to be. “-but now I don’t and I don’t know what to do.”
“But you- the way you talk about her and that… Jeongguk that wedding photo. How could you not-?”
“I don’t know.” Jeongguk choked on a sob, he pressed his hands to his eyes. “I just stopped. And I don’t know how or why or even how to start again.”
Jimin was silent.
He shifted, their arms brushing as he stood and stepped off the porch. Panic grasped Jeongguk—he had made him even more upset. He should have kept it to himself-
Jimin, standing in front of him, leaned down to pull him into a hug. Jeongguk’s breath stuttered in surprise and a gasp. Jimin guided his head to his shoulder, cheek pressing against his hair.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’ll figure it out. And I’ll be right here if you need any help. If you need someone to talk to, to rant to… to cry with. I’m right here.”
Jeongguk crumpled. He threw his arms around Jimin, burying his face into his shoulder. He wailed, uncaring of judgment or admonishment. Jimin just pulled him closer, one hand reaching up to card through his hair.
Every time Jeongguk cried, it didn’t do anything to relieve the pain and pressure in his chest.
As Jimin held him, comforting him, Jeongguk felt it start to fade.
He had always thought that he needed someone to hold to start to feel okay.
Maybe he was the one that needed to be held.