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Jeonghan groans and rolls over in bed as he hears the baby monitor go off, again, checking his phone only to see that it’s the ungodly hour of 3 am.
“Eugh, Mingoo-yaaah, Mingguri, wake up. It’s your turn.” In response he hears one of Mingyu’s irritating–cute, adorable–snuffling snorts as his warm body draws closer to Jeonghan, nose unconsciously nuzzling into his neck to scent him and his hands, instinctively so gentle even in sleep, stroking over Jeonghan’s soft belly. But no matter how cute Mingyu may be, it’s 3 am, the baby is crying, and it’s not Jeonghan’s turn.
Jeonghan immediately twists back to face Mingyu and starts poking at him until he blearily pulls his eyes open. “Ah, little Haneullie, when will you let your poor parents sleep for more than an hour at a time.”
Jeonghan’s pushing and prodding–and kicking–gets more insistent until Mingyu pushes himself off the bed, grabbing the screaming baby monitor, and pressing a kiss to Jeonghan’s head as he nestles back into the pillows in his garish pink, oversized, and fleecy pajamas.
“Go back to sleep, I’ve got our girl.”
At this, Jeonghan’s heart swells uncomfortably in his chest and he hides his soft smile against the pillows with a grumble about how she’s Mingyu’s child when she keeps him up at all hours of the night, even as he reaches a bony hand out behind him, Mingyu knowing to squeeze it on his way out of the room.
“Remember if she doesn’t burp after her bottle you can t—“
“Try supporting her tummy and walking around, I know, jagiyah. Go back to sleep.”
When Jeonghan opens his eyes sometime later, it’s to a silent apartment and the first early rays of dawn beginning to filter through the curtains. He stretches, luxuriating in a few hours of consecutive sleep and rolls over to look at the other half of the bed, empty with the sheets undisturbed since Mingyu got up hours before. He scowls at Mingyu’s stubbornness before sliding into his My Melody slippers, padding out of bed to go find his family.
The door to Haneul’s nursery is ajar and Jeonghan is ready to, quietly of course, berate Mingyu for not coming back to switch off Haneul shifts. Mingyu, in his foolish strong headedness, will often stay up to let Jeonghan get more rest while the baby goes through her four month sleep regression (a month early, prompting Mingyu to declare loudly, to anyone in earshot, that their daughter is already a genius).
As the door swings open, a whispered rant about the importance of Mingyu’s sleep and splitting the sleepless night equally on the tip of his tongue, Jeonghan stops short. Mingyu is in the rocker next to the window overlooking Seoul’s skyline, Haneul resting peacefully in her crib next to him, both of them fast asleep. Mingyu’s hand is still stretched out towards her in sleep, clearly having nodded off while holding her tiny hand.
It’s moments like this that remind Jeonghan how far they’ve come, and of everything still stretching out in front of them. That they’re the same people they used to be, that this is where they’ve ended up (Jeonghan needling and provoking, and desperately clutching all his cards far too close to his chest. Mingyu easy to rile with heart worn out on his sleeve for anyone to hurt, on purpose or otherwise ) is sometimes hard for even him to believe.
___
Jeonghan had never really wanted kids, to be honest. This surprised people whenever they found out, but frankly if he had a burning desire for children he would have chosen a different career path. Idolhood and parenthood don’t mix well, at least not until after your group starts military enlistment and you have both more time and less notoriety. So between Seventeen and his irregular heat cycle, vicious cramps, and chronic low iron, Jeonghan had been certain for years that getting knocked up just wasn’t in his future.
Which isn’t to say he doesn’t like kids, because he does. Loves them even. He’s good with them too. He always figured he’d be a great uncle to his sister’s and omega packmates’ children one day and that would be enough.
However.
What Jeonghan failed to consider was the cocktail of an unexpected early-even-for-him heat, a few too many drinks after a late night schedule, and Kim Mingyu.
Jeonghan sits on the closed toilet lid as he watches the time tick forward on his phone screen. It’s been four minutes now. One minute longer than the box says to wait. He could look now. He should look now. It’s ten minutes past Seungkwan’s normal bed time routine and he’ll be annoyed soon if Jeonghan hogs the bathroom any longer.
Five minutes.
He steels himself, takes a long, slow breath and starts to reach out with an only slightly tremulous hand toward the innocuous little stick sitting on the edge of the bathroom sink.
Suddenly an impatient flurry of knocks sound against the door of the bathroom and Jeonghan knocks the pregnancy test onto the floor, muttering a flustered curse under his breath as he scrambles to pick it up.
“Jeonghan-hyung, you’ve seriously been in there forever and I need to start my skin care routine! Did you forget we have an early schedule in the morning?”
The rest of Seungkwan’s exasperated rant fades to the back of Jeonghan’s mind as his eyes catch on the now upturned test on the floor.
Two pink lines. Clear as day.
He sinks down to the floor with the confirmation of what he’s suspected, no, known, for weeks. He must stay there too long for Seungkwan’s comfort. Jeonghan still doesn’t know what he’s saying, maybe he’s frustrated at the lack of an appropriately contrite response to delaying his lengthy before bed routine, or maybe he’s simply worried.
The door bursts open in a flurry of still ranting Seungkwan.
“Hyung really something better be wrong with you to sit in here ignoring me when I just need to get my products and—“ he stops short, seeing Jeonghan curled up clutching the test in his hands.
“What are you… what’s going on, is something wrong?” As he often does when worried about Jeonghan, Seungkwan suddenly, somehow, looks startlingly young.
Jeonghan lets out a subdued impression of his normal cackle. “Well Seungkwan-ah, that depends. How do you feel about being an uncle?”
Seungkwan, to his credit, takes the news with more grace than could reasonably be expected of him under the circumstances. He simply folds himself down onto the floor next to Jeonghan and leans against him, a familiar and grounding weight at his side. Jeonghan can tell, though, that the silence is akin to torture for him and after a moment he bursts.
“Are you going to tell him, hyung?”
“What makes you think you know who the father is Seungkwan-ah?” Jeonghan’s voice warbles and lilts at the attempt at… he doesn’t really know. Deception? Of course Seungkwan knows, Seungkwan knows both him and Mingyu better than they know themselves. A joke? Not great timing, even for him.
Seungkwan doesn’t reply, and silence hangs in the air while Jeonghan contemplates how deeply and truly gross it is that he’s holding an object he just peed on in his bare hand. Like yeah, there’s a cap on it and everything, but still.
“Yeah. I’m going to tell him.”
After a beat of hesitation Seungkwan ventures another question, “What are you going to do?” And Jeonghan hears the unasked questions behind that one. What about Seventeen? What about the rest of them? What will they all do?
But those are all questions that Jeonghan knows how to answer even less than Seungkwan knows how to ask them.
___
It happens one night after a late schedule, a photoshoot with the two of them and Junhui. Jeonghan thinks it’s for some sort of special photobook coming out later in the year, but to be honest he’s slightly fuzzy on the details of exactly where which photos go after he takes them.
Junhui heads straight home to see Minghao, not wanting to miss out on time with his in-all-ways-but-official mate before he heads to China to film a few episodes of a reality show, but Mingyu and Jeonghan decide to stop for dinner, maybe a drink or two. The chemistry on set had been good, and it feels like they’re both a little unwilling to let the night end.
Quietly, Jeonghan had actually been rather excited to do a unit schedule with Mingyu. They don’t often get paired up for official content, he knows that they aren’t among the most popular duos with fans, but when they do it always turns out well, often among his personal favorites.
The restaurant is warm and inviting, and before he knows it, they’ve both indulged in a few drinks along with their meal. Jeonghan feels full and content, buzzing with the pleasure of Mingyu’s presence. The conversation bounces back and forth, whizzing from one topic to the next, the two of them trading lighthearted jabs as easily as compliments. Nights like these, Jeonghan almost feels like he could lean into this feeling, the electricity whenever they’re together. When they get the balancing act right, it’s like magic.
He pulls lightly at the collar of his shirt and leans closer to Mingyu to be heard over the din of the other patrons. His head swims at the wave of woody, earthy scent that washes over him. There’s an undercurrent of warmth to it, like sitting in front of the hearth of a crackling fire. Jeonghan doesn’t know if the hearth will simply warm him, or burn him right up.
“Minggoo, are you warm? I’m so warm, it’s so warm in here, let’s go, let’s walk home.” He tugs lightly at Mingyu’s sleeve.
Mingyu nods excitedly and stands, pushing his chair back with a screech. His expression melts into a pout though, and he whines, “But my apartment is so far from here, it’s too far to walk when it’s cold out.”
Delightfully tipsy Jeonghan, however, doesn’t see this as an issue. He shrugs, frowning at the sleeve of his jacket where it momentarily refuses to cooperate with him, and then grins up at Mingyu when he succeeds.
“Just stay at my place. Seungkwan’s not even there, I think he’s off with Hansol.” He pauses and scrunches up his eyes. “Or Chan. Maybe both of them?” What the maknaes get up to is somewhat beyond him, but Seungkwan can more than handle the both of them.
They stumble out onto the sidewalk, clutching each other’s arms and giggling at their own drunkenness. They’ve managed to hit the sweet spot where everything feels bigger and brighter, but before it all turns into a bit of a mess.
Jeonghan loses track of their journey back to his building. The trek is a whirlwind of laughter and Mingyu brushing the snowflakes out of Jeonghan’s hair and ever increasing heat at every contact point between their bodies, despite the chill. He’s not wearing his jacket anymore and has a blurry memory of Mingyu telling him he was going to get frostbite and Jeonghan insisting he didn’t need it.
They stumble into the elevator and Jeonghan has to concentrate really hard to both remember the button for his floor and then accurately press it. It’s difficult to think over how hot he is in the small space with Mingyu’s presence engulfing all of his senses.
Mingyu seems affected too. He edges closer to Jeonghan without realizing he’s doing it. When Jeonghan looks up at him, his pupils are blown wide and his scent is coming off of him in waves.
“You smell good, sweet. It’s so strong, like strawberries… and sunshine,” he mumbles, eyes trained on the most sensitive part of Jeonghan’s neck. There’s a part of Jeonghan’s brain that’s telling him they’re entering dangerous territory, but he waves it away. It’s easy to ignore since nothing else manages to seem very important when Mingyu’s in front of him and he’s so close and he could be even closer.
The tension builds, their scents mingling and growing thick in the air. Jeonghan takes a step forward and starts to tip his head to the side to bear his neck.
It’s like it flips a switch and Mingyu is everywhere. His hands on Jeonghan’s waist, his face, in his hair. His nose buried in Jeonghan’s neck, his teeth ghosting over Jeonghan’s scent gland. All Jeonghan can think is Mingyu, Mingyu, Mingyu and more, more, more.
Ding.
The elevator opens.
They pull back just enough to lock eyes, pupils blown wide and breath ragged. The pause only heightens the tension between them, pulling it taught like the bowstring of a violin about to snap.
Mingyu shudders and attempts to put more space between them, but doesn’t get very far. With visible effort, he forces out, “Your heat, hyung, I should– it’s early. That’s why…” He trails off and shake his head a few times like he can clear the pheromones clouding it.
Maybe they shouldn’t do this. It’s a bad idea, and Jeonghan knows that there are probably a lot of really good reasons for that, but now that they’re here, standing at the precipice together, all Jeonghan wants to do is jump. He deliberately lets off more of his heat sweetened scent, strawberries and cream and the smell of a sun drenched summer afternoon.
Now his heat has fully set in, everything is drawn into sharp focus. He can feel the beginnings of slick starting to drip into his underwear. He intends to come off coy and demure, try to play the coquette. In reality, he’s more desperate than anything else.
“Are you going to help me, alpha?”
Mingyu inhales harshly through his nose and lets out a growl. Just as the elevator doors begin to close, he yanks Jeonghan out and starts the short walk down the hall, only to almost immediately lift Jeonghan up, legs clenched tight around Mingyu’s waist, mouth at Mingyu’s throat.
Jeonghan honestly couldn’t explain how they made it to the bed. There’s a blur between the elevator and the bedroom that simply can’t be accounted for. All he does remember is the pounding of his heart, the twin echo of their scents building in intensity, playing off of one another until it’s impossible to know where Mingyu starts and Jeonghan ends.
He comes back to himself when he realizes he’s splayed out across his bed. He looks up at Mingyu through half lidded eyes and unceremoniously yanks his pants off. He throws them somewhere into the distance, he’s not quite sure where, but everything outside of himself and Mingyu feels far away and unimportant. Mingyu echoes his hurried, fumbling undressing and as the last articles of clothing hit the floor, Jeonghan flips over onto his stomach and lets instinct guide him until his knees are drawn up and his ass is up. Presenting. He feels cool air brush over his exposed hole and trembles with the strength of his want.
Mingyu’s sharp inhale of breath pierces through him like a bolt of lightning and Jeonghan looks over his shoulder, eyes tracing the lines of Mingyu’s shoulders, down the planes of his chest and across the firm expanse of his stomach before coming to rest on his now fully hard cock. It curves up toward his belly and when Jeonghan sees the precum glistening on the tip he feels his mouth water. He’s big, almost too big, but in the best way, the way where Jeonghan knows the feeling of Mingyu inside him will soothe the fierce aching of emptiness that surges up within him now.
Mingyu’s hands fit over the divots at his waist like they were meant for him and he yanks Jeonghan back toward his cock. Jeonghan moans and his chest falls flat onto the bed, cheek pressed into the mattress. He feels the buzz in his veins intensify when Mingyu slowly, tantalizingly, rubs the tip almost tenderly back and forth across his hole, but never pressing deeper inside where he needs it the most.
“I swear to god Kim Mingyu, if you don’t stick your goddamn dick in me in the next three seconds I’m going to actually kill you,” he whines into his arms, but his threat is belied by his desperation.
Jeonghan probably could flip over and take the lead but for one, he’s tired and already starting to get heat cramps and more than that, what good is a big strong alpha if you don’t even get to lay back and make them do all the work.
Jeonghan lets out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a growl and gracelessly ruts back, seeking any amount of friction and driven by the crazed urge to be fucking filled by something already. Mingyu thrusts up at the same time and they both moan as he finally sinks into Jeonghan’s tight heat. Jeonghan’s eyes roll back in his head and the headboard begins banging out a loud, destructive rhythm against the wall.
Just when Jeonghan thinks he can’t take anymore, Mingyu pauses. Jeonghan bites out a desolate mewl he’d be humiliated by under any other circumstance at the sudden stillness, before Mingyu pulls out and easily flips him onto his back. Jeonghan grabs roughly at any part of Mingyu he can reach and thrusts up blindly as he tries to get his alpha back inside.
“Had to see you,” Mingyu mutters, his voice rough with want. He slides back home and grips Jeonghan’s waist, leaving red imprints in the shape of his hands. Jeonghan can’t help but hope he’ll leave marks behind, that he’ll claim Jeonghan and his body as his own.
It’s like Mingyu is in his head. “Had to see your face, my omega,” he grunts out.
Jeonghan lets himself drop down further into the floaty, blissed out space currently taking over his head. All his omega hears is the alpha he’s chosen claiming him, and he only barely manages to gasp out, “Yours, yes, all yours.”
Jeonghan manages to get a hand up to the back of Mingyu’s head, tangling in his hair and yanking hard. Mingyu whines and thrusts harder, losing his rhythm but making up for it with enthusiasm, the pace turning sloppy, frenzied, delicious. Jeonghan scratches his nails down Mingyu’s back and drifts in a haze of pure pleasure. He noses forward half out of his mind, latching blunt teeth onto Mingyu’s neck and biting and licking a path across, driven by the urge to mark and claim his alpha back.
He almost sobs when he feels Mingyu’s knot catch on his rim, the relief of what he’s been chasing swelling deep inside him. Mingyu shudders and Jeonghan feels the hot pulse of cum filling him up. He wails and pushes himself forward, the craving for his own release reaching new heights. Mingyu bites down hard one more time on Jeonghan’s shoulder and he finally, finally feels the heat crest, riding the wave until he doesn’t even remember his own name.
___
Jeonghan’s phone buzzes where it sits next to him on the floor of the practice room. He glances over at it, exhausted and sweaty and trying to work up the energy to haul himself up and home to shower, and sees Mingyu’s name flash on the screen. He looks swiftly away like Mingyu will know he saw the call. It’s immature, but ever since his heat ended he hasn’t been able to bring himself to talk to Mingyu. And that was before he found out he was pregnant.
He lets out a creaky groan, disgust with the general state of himself after dance practice finally winning out over sheer exhaustion, and pushes himself upright. Knowing how easily exhausted he’s been lately, Jeonghan wouldn’t normally volunteer to stay late, but Wonwoo has been struggling with a in new formation for a live performance they have in a few days, and Jeonghan stayed after practice to work on it with him under the guise of struggling himself.
It was maybe silly, but he’s been feeling more protective than usual over his members, especially those younger than him. When he had originally gone to leave, he found he couldn’t quite stomach the thought of Wonwoo struggling alone. After some extra work, Wonwoo felt better about the new steps, but had to rush off when he remembered another schedule he had now made himself late for.
He turns toward his things to gather them up, jacket, bag, phone case laden with little trinkets and charms, when he hears the door open behind him.
“Hey. Can we talk for a minute? I saw Wonwoo hyung in the hall and he said you might still be here.”
Jeonghan fumbles and drops his phone at the sound of Mingyu’s voice. He curses Wonwoo only a little bit for giving away his whereabouts, but mostly himself for being a coward. Part of him is thrumming with the sensation of Mingyu’s nearness, but that part is at war with the urge to get the hell out of dodge.
He already didn’t know what the hell the two of them were going to do about their friendship. But now he has to find a way to say, Hey Mingyu! You know how we had a one night stand? Guess what? Now we’re tethered together for the rest of our lives! Which I actually think I might want more than I ever fucking knew but would never ever work! Not the least of which because you deserve better than someone who can’t even tell you any of this and resorts to picking childish fights instead!
Speaking of childish little fights, Jeonghan can’t do this right now. He doesn’t know when exactly he can, and he can hear Seungkwan’s voice in the back of his head telling him to just get it over with, that this is the perfect opportunity, but it’s too much.
He picks his phone back up and glances at Mingyu. Trying hard to sound extremely normal about everything, he says, “I’m actually in kind of a hurry. Can we talk later?”
“How are we going to do that when you’re avoiding me like the plague?” Mingyu takes a breath. “Let’s just—it’s just me, hyung. It’ll be okay, this doesn’t have to be a bad thing.” Mingyu’s voice is steady, comforting, and a little hopeful, but the situation is about a thousand times more complicated than he knows.
Jeonghan taps his foot anxiously, frustration bursting out of him and searing across Mingyu’s earnest assurances like wildfire.
“What, Mingyu, like it’s that easy? What is it, exactly, that you think? Because we had sex we’re just going to ride off into the sunset together? That’s not how any of this works, not for people in our positions and especially not for the two of us.” It all comes pouring out of his mouth before he can stop it, a mix of truth and lies. And even Jeonghan doesn’t know where one starts and the other ends.
He can’t bear to look at Mingyu because he doesn’t know what would be worse, seeing devastation or finding out that Mingyu doesn’t even want him after all. The silence rings after his outburst, and Jeonghan rushes out of the room before he has to find out.
___
How do you tell someone you’re not dating that you’re pregnant? Moreover, how do you tell someone you’re not dating that you’re pregnant when you both happen to be members of an increasingly successful kpop boy group and said pregnancy could spell the untimely end of both of your flourishing careers?
Jeonghan certainly has no fucking clue, so he goes where he always goes when he doesn’t know what to do. He goes to Joshua.
Joshua, who is currently giving him cartoonish, yet somehow delicate, deer caught in the headlight blinks.
“So what do I do Joshuji? How am I supposed to tell him about this? We’ve barely even looked at each other since it happened.” Jeonghan grimaces first at the thought of the tension in the air earlier that day when he spent their entire dance practice studiously avoiding Mingyu and pretending that’s not at all what he was doing, and then at the nausea that threatens to have him retching into the potted plant next to Joshua’s tasteful beige couch.
“I’m sorry, you and Mingyu had sex? On your heat? And you didn’t tell me?”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, we’re a little past that part now. What should I do?”
Joshua gives him a look, one of those best friend looks that pierce right through Jeonghan and all the layers of artifice and evasion that he tries to put between himself and the rest of the world. Sometimes it terrifies Jeonghan how well Joshua can see him, but it’s also why he came here over anywhere else.
“Jeonghan, come on. You know Mingyu, as much as you might pretend not to. You know he’d want to know and you know he’ll be supportive. That’s not why you’re all tied up in knots.”
And Jeonghan really hates when Joshua is right. Because yes, he knows that for all he and Mingyu clash, that Mingyu would be here in a second if Jeonghan asked. That he’d support him through this anyway he needed.
He hesitates, biting his lip. “I don’t know how to make myself do it. Tell him I mean. For so many reasons. I was already dreading talking to him before I knew about the baby. Mingyu is my friend and he’s important. I don’t want to lose him.”
Joshua hums contemplatively. “What makes you think you’ll lose him? Mingyu loves you too.” He says it like it’s a simple fact, and Jeonghan supposes it is, in a way. Among the members, their unofficial pack, they all love each other in a way that no one else can quite understand after all. The way he feels about Mingyu, however, has always been a little bit different.
“I don’t think that it’s… fair, I guess, for me to try to keep him. But now he’s stuck with me whether he wants to be or not.” And that’s the crux of it, really. Jeonghan, as always, is scared to let anyone too close, afraid that if anyone goes shining a light around his darkest parts they won’t like what they find.
“I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I don’t have a magic solution for you,” Joshua says gently. He’s right again, the bastard. Jeonghan really did want a magic solution.
“And I think you know that. This isn’t really about Mingyu, or about the baby, although that does make it more complicated. You have to decide to want it, Hannie. You have to decide you want to be happy more than you’re afraid. I don’t know exactly how you get there, but until you do, I’ll be right here holding your hand. And so will Seungkwan. And Mingyu, if you let him. And anyone else you let within arm’s reach.”
Joshua considers his next words. “You care for all of us so much, in ways that we don’t even realize sometimes. But love, friendship, trust, family? It has to go both ways.”
“I don’t know if I know how to do that,” Jeonghan admits slowly.
“Nobody does at first. It’s hard to be vulnerable. I think we’re all
just sort of fumbling our way through it.” He pauses lightly, eyes sparkling as his lips curl up at the corners, no doubt spelling mischief. “So. Was the sex any good?”
Jeonghan lets out a whine and throws himself backwards on the couch. “Hong Jisoo, we are not talking about that!”
“Hmm.” Joshua replies primly, clearly barely containing his laughter. “That bad huh? How fascinating.”
“I didn’t say that!”
“Oh, so it was good?”
“I don’t know why I even came here.”
Jeonghan feels Joshua’s hand come to rest on his head and senses his calming eucalyptus and mint scent float out to encircle them.
“You came because you wanted a friend.”
___
The thing is Jeonghan does mean to tell Mingyu. He knows, despite all of Seungkwan and Joshua’s nagging to the contrary, that this isn’t something he can just ignore. It’s not going away and the longer he waits the harder it’s going to be. But all of that doesn’t make it any easier.
He can’t even use the excuse of being busy because, although they always have some amount of schedules going on, after their promotion cycle ends, it’s actually a relative down time for them. If anything though, this just means it’s easier to avoid Mingyu.
He wants to take Joshua’s advice, try to let Mingyu in in little ways, microdosing vulnerability if you will. It turns out, however, that wanting something and knowing you should do something doesn’t make that thing easier to do. Especially when you haven’t yet run out of time to run away from your problems.
It’s not all avoidance though, Jeonghan has genuinely felt like shit. As he expected, even these early days of pregnancy have wreaked a small amount of havoc on his body. He’s exhausted and constantly nauseated, though he thankfully rarely actually needs to throw up. Then there’s the dizziness, the headaches and back pain, and the mood swings and chest tenderness. To make matters worse, the most instinctual, omega part of him wants Mingyu near. His body knows what’s going on even if his head and his heart haven’t quite figured it out, and there’s a buzzing of tension under his skin that puts his teeth on edge the longer he goes without having his (but not really his) alpha near.
Much to both Seungkwan and Joshua’s horror, he’s been putting off a doctor’s appointment. But going to a doctor means telling the company. And if he hasn’t even been ready to tell Mingyu, telling the company feels even further out of reach.
So it’s just been easier to beg off the semi-frequent get-togethers, put his phone on do not disturb so he can ignore the texts and calls without feeling as much like a liar, and avoid Mingyu altogether. Or it was easier to avoid Mingyu. Past tense. Because now it’s time for their vaguely monthly meeting (this month the “theme,” insofar as there is one, is chicken and beer, courtesy of Seungcheol) and Jeonghan is out of time.
“He texted me again today. Said you still won’t respond to any of his messages. He sounds worried about you, about your friendship,” Seungkwan tells him as they stand waiting for the elevator. Jeonghan starts jiggling his leg, staring at the elevator doors like he can will them to open.. “You just need to rip the band aid off and tell him. You can’t keep putting this off, hyung. Sooner or later he’s going to find out one way or another.”
Jeonghan bristles slightly, like he doesn’t already know that, and jabs at the elevator button probably a bit harder than necessary. A moment passes before he feels Seungkwan’s hand come to circle his wrist tentatively, a wordless apology, before Jeonghan links their fingers. It’s not Seungkwan he’s mad at anyway and he knows it. It’s both a healthy mix of ever stronger pregnancy hormones and a dash of self loathing. He sometimes wishes he could be as brave and forthright as Seungkwan, but the direct approach has never much been his strong suit.
Seungkwan squeezes his hand. He takes a deep breath. Grimaces at the immediate wave of nausea. He can do this.
___
He can’t do this. He can’t tell Mingyu, he can’t tell the members, and he’s only been here for ten minutes and already can’t stand the greasy smell of chicken and haze of alcohol hanging in the air. Even the heavy presence of so many other people’s scents, pack or not, makes him feel immediately overwhelmed. And that’s not to mention that he’s terrified someone will pick up on his own scent, subtly altered already by early pregnancy, although some extensive internet searches assured him it wouldn’t be obvious to others in the first trimester. He has severely overestimated himself and would very much like to slink back to his apartment and contemplate his own failings from the relative safety and comfort of the bathroom floor.
He knows he’s acting weird, edgy and unsettled like a wild horse backed into a corner. Minghao, sitting next to him, keeps shooting extremely unsubtle worried glances his way while Joshua (thank god for Joshua) runs interference chatting with Seokmin and Soonyoung to cover for the fact that Jeonghan has to visibly will himself not to vomit all over the table.
He purposefully chose one of only two open seats when he arrived, the one next to Joshua and across the room from Mingyu, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling the weight of Mingyu’s gaze heavy on the side of his face as he pretends not to notice. Jeonghan has to spend a not inconsiderable amount of his focus on telling his omega (which is practically screaming at him to get closer already) that they are not, under any circumstances, going to go sit in Mingyu’s lap.
He’s attempting to listen to Seokmin’s story about an audition for a musical he’s feeling hopeful about when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mingyu lay a hand on Jihoon’s arm, leaning in slightly while they talk. Under normal circumstances Jeonghan doubts he’d even notice, but he’s feeling, well, the slightest teensiest bit territorial about the alpha that very recently knocked him up. He spares a moment to acknowledge the irony of feeling territorial about someone he’s barely even seen in weeks, but being back in such close proximity to Mingyu has multiplied every sense, every hormone, every instinct tenfold.
So despite the fact that he loves his younger omega packmate with a fierceness that could move mountains, he kind of wants to rush over there and rip Jihoon’s arm off of his body. He only realizes he let out a tiny growl when Seokmin stops talking, the members in their immediate vicinity falling silent. As if noticing the pause, Mingyu and Jihoon turn their attention down to the other side of the table, Mingyu moving his arm in the process. At once Jeonghan feels silly and embarrassed with too many eyes on him. Mingyu makes an aborted attempt to stand when they make eye contact, but Jeonghan swiftly turns away.
He smiles apologetically at Seokmin. “Hyung is sorry Seokminnie, the music in here is so loud, I can barely hear you. What did you say the casting director said when you left?” It’s not his best deflection by a long shot and he can tell it doesn’t particularly convince anyone. Seokmin, however, is sweet by nature and predisposed to give Jeonghan what he wants, so he picks the thread of his story back up and gradually the rhythms of conversation around the table settle back into some sense of normalcy.
He has almost convinced himself that with many small sips of water and deep breaths he can make it through this meal, when Chan spills his beer across the table and it sloshes into Jeonghan’s lap. The smell is immediately overwhelming and he jumps up, ignoring Chan’s apologies and Minghao and Joshua’s attempts to clean up the mess, intensely aware that if he doesn’t get to the bathroom there’s going to be a much worse mess to clean up.
He throws the door shut behind him and heaves, but thankfully, like most of his nausea, the actual sickness seems to evade him. He attempts to rinse the worst of the beer out of his shirt and splash cool water on his face, trying and failing to come up with a reasonable explanation for why a small spill sent him careening away from the table like he’d been set on fire.
The door to the bathroom swings open behind him and he abruptly (and belatedly) realizes he didn’t lock the door behind him.
Rookie mistake, Jeonghan.
He doesn’t need to look to know who followed him. Even without his wood and vetiver scent filling the room and heralding his arrival, Jeonghan has always been attuned to Mingyu, whether he wants to be or not. Since the pregnancy, it’s almost like another sense. He doesn’t need to search, Mingyu’s just there.
“What was that? What’s going on with you?” Mingyu says, voice tinged with both concern and frustration that Jeonghan knows he deserves. It doesn’t stop his defenses from snapping into place.
He also knows that Mingyu isn’t just asking about tonight, but evasion has always been his preferred method of conflict resolution. Tone sharper than he really means it to be, Jeonghan forces out “Just didn’t want to be soaked in beer, is that suddenly a crime?”
Mingyu makes a face at him, mostly annoyed, but hurt too. The annoyance seems to win out when he fires back. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. You’re being so immature about this. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. I’ve called and texted and done everything short of showing up at your goddamned door whether you want me to or not.”
His tone softens, his eyes and the corners of his mouth betraying his uncertainty. “That night was a lot for me too, you know. I didn’t know what any of it meant, to you or to me. And then you were just gone and you’ve barely looked at me since then. What am I supposed to do with that, Jeonghan?” His chest heaves and Jeonghan opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. There’s so much he’s wanted to say to Mingyu, but now, when it matters the most, he just can’t.
Mingyu, however, isn’t done. “And I don’t want to hear about how we’re too different. Too different for what? I don’t even remember a time when you weren’t one of the most important people in my life and I don’t want to. And it’s not easy or hard to be with you Jeonghan, it just is. We, all of us, everyone sitting out there, we all chose each other and that’s what matters.” Jeonghan just looks away.
“I just want my friend back. Even when you’re difficult. Even when you refuse to tell me how you feel. At the end of the day, when you’re not there, I miss you.” It comes out plaintive and he scrubs a hand across his face, suddenly seeming tired. “I feel like I’m losing my mind. Every fiber of my being is screaming at me to go to you, to be near you, and I can’t because you don’t want me. And I don’t even know why!”
Now if Jeonghan weren’t a swirling cocktail of uncertainty and fear and heightened pheromones himself, he’d maybe be more willing to be sensitive to Mingyu’s feelings. But he is a swirling cocktail of uncertainty and fear and pheromones, and some other unpleasant things too, and he’s also the one with a baby inside him! He’s sensitive and vulnerable and still really nauseous actually, and he can’t even begin to untangle the twisted web of feelings that Mingyu’s words roused in him. Especially not in a public bathroom with all their friends waiting in the next room.
He spins back around toward the sink and bites out, “I’m so sorry to have put you out so much Mingyu. Why don’t we just both forget it ever happened, I’m sure you’ll be much happier that way.” He breathes heavily, glaring down at his hands gripping the edges of the sink. After ten increasingly tense and awkward seconds, though, Mingyu is still standing behind him. Jeonghan finally looks up and meets his eyes in the mirror.
“Did that make you feel better?” Mingyu says flatly, like he’s waiting out a toddler’s temper tantrum, but thought of Mingyu and toddlers doesn’t exactly help Jeonghan calm down. He lets out a wild shout as the tears he’s been fighting back finally get the best of him.
“No Mingyu! No it didn’t actually. Because as much fun as it truly is to stand in this frankly disgusting public bathroom with you and discuss the implications of our one night stand on our relationship, it actually doesn’t distract me, even for a second, from the fact that you and your goddamned alpha dick put a fucking baby in me!” He stands there, chest heaving and tears streaming down his cheeks, staring at Mingyu’s shell shocked face. “Now if you don’t mind, can you please move out of the way.”
But Mingyu just stands there, staring dumbly. He finally seems to come back to himself, locking eyes with Jeonghan. “A baby? You’re pregnant?”
In lieu of an answer, Jeonghan finally loses his war against the chicken restaurant and vomits all over Mingyu’s shoes.
___
They lay in bed after Jeonghan has finished crying himself out, while Mingyu slowly, mindlessly traces patterns on Jeonghan’s arm. He thinks he might be able to figure out at least some of the words Mingyu writes, but after a few letters he stops trying, unwilling to delve any closer to promises he doesn’t know if he can keep. Declarations he doesn’t know if he’s ready for.
He closes his eyes and sighs. “If you tell anyone I cried I’ll tell Seungkwan you’re the one who stole his face cream on tour,” he croaks out, voice scratchy and remnants of tears and snot drying on his face. He wipes it on Mingyu’s t-shirt and takes a deep breath in, soothed by Mingyu’s warm smoky scent. It smells a lot like home.
“I’ll just tell everyone I cried instead.” Jeonghan can hear, but chooses to ignore, the fondness in Mingyu’s voice when he says this. Instead, he snuggles further into Mingyu’s warmth— he’s really just a giant furnace— and wills his silly little heart not to betray him by doing anything stupid like skipping a beat when Mingyu presses one, and then another, gentle kiss to the top of his head.
Jeonghan sniffs. “Well, they would believe it. You’re a huge crybaby.” When Mingyu pinches his side, he pinches back harder. “And I’m sorry I threw up on your shoes.”
He feels Mingyu shrug, a smile in his reply. “Eh. Never really liked those shoes anyway.” They both stay quiet for a moment, the only sounds in the room their quiet breathing and the night breeze ruffling the leaves outside the open window.
“So, a baby.” Mingyu says it like he still can’t quite believe it, and to be fair Jeonghan has quite a leg up on him in terms of processing and he can’t either.
Jeonghan nods and huffs out a small laugh against Mingyu’s chest. “Yeah. A baby. Who would’ve thought it would be the two of us here?” He says it like it should be all but impossible, and in his head it kind of is. If anything, he’d expect Seungkwan and Hansol to turn up in a situation like this. You can only stare someone down like you’re a second away from eating them in public so many times after all.
Jeonghan’s not trying to pick another fight, they’re both too tired for that, but he hopes that Mingyu will disagree again, like he did in the restaurant. He really wants to believe that something about the two of them could just make sense together
Mingyu hums contemplatively. “I already told you Jeonghan, I don’t think it’s so crazy. We’re a good team. And I think you’ll be a really good dad.” Jeonghan closes his eyes against a rush of tenderness in chest. When will he learn not to doubt Mingyu? Maybe it’s getting easier already.
The conversation is starting to veer too close to things Jeonghan still isn’t quite ready to address, but he hears Joshua in his head, reminding him that maybe it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. Maybe he can let Mingyu into this with him, even if only a little, so he asks, “What do you want? A boy or a girl?”
“Well, I’m mostly still trying to wrap my head around the fact that they exist at all, but, I don’t know, it might be nice to have a little girl.” Mingyu’s voice is almost a whisper by the end of his sentence, like he’s afraid to shatter the spell of the moment. Jeonghan can picture it. A little girl with Mingyu’s ears and caring heart and hopefully some of the best parts of himself too. He’s not surprised, exactly, by how fiercely he wants that picture in his head, but the strength of it still manages to knock him back. He wants that life and he wants it with Mingyu.
Trying to hide the shakiness in his voice, he says, “I’d like that too.”
“Are you hungry?” Mingyu, perhaps sensing Jeonghan’s emotional limits, pivots to less charged ground. “We never ended up eating at the restaurant. I can probably come up with something from your fridge.”
At that, Jeonghan snorts against Mingyu’s collar bone. He knows for a fact all that’s in their kitchen right now are some dubiously old eggs, an onion that’s best left unmentioned, and the pickles that Jeonghan had been craving two days ago but now can’t even think about without feeling sick again.
“I really doubt it,” he says. “We can just order something.”
When Mingyu goes to roll away toward his phone, Jeonghan grips him tighter, a soft whine of protest escaping him. “In a minute okay? I just need… can we just stay here for a minute?”
He feels Mingyu’s arms wrap around him, firmer this time.
“Yeah. We can take as long as you want.” He pauses. “But I am hungry though.”
Jeonghan cackles at that and lets himself melt fully down into Mingyu’s embrace. He can’t help but think it’s kind of nice to let yourself let go and hope, almost believe, that someone will be there to carry it all with you.
___
“Can you please sit down? You’re going to wear a path in the floor and honestly you’re stressing me out.” Joshua sits on Jeonghan and Seungkwan’s couch, and despite his objections, his eyes don’t leave his phone where he’s playing some kind of competitive English crossword game against Hansol. They’ve attempted to explain it to Jeonghan, but looking at English words for too long gives him a headache.
Instead of snapping back at Joshua, Jeonghan graciously decides to simply shoot him a dirty look before returning to his convoluted path around the apartment.
Joshua sighs before putting his phone down. “He’s not going to miss this, Jeonghan. He’s actually been really excited about it, it’s sweet.”
That’s not really what Jeonghan is worried about. Mingyu is excited about the doctor’s appointment and it is sweet.
As expected of caring, steadfast Mingyu, he’s thrown himself into this headfirst, from cooking Jeonghan little meals and snacks to satisfy his increasingly strange pregnancy cravings to listening patiently to Seungkwan’s detailed research on the pros and cons of various prenatal vitamin regimens. He’d even accompanied Jeonghan to his very first appointment only days after finding out about the baby at all, and he’d handled the whole thing with a lot more fortitude than Jeonghan, who had almost had a panic attack as soon as his feet were up in the stirrups.
He’s not exactly proud of it, especially since the other members still don’t know, but he’s been a bit prone to snapping at everyone around him. Poor Junhui caught the worst of it at practice the day before, unaware that his rambling about the drama he’d been watching was really distracting Jeonghan from his important mission of not puking all over the practice room floor (Jeonghan remembers the good old days a few weeks ago when he thought the worst of his morning sickness would simply be nausea, yeah, not so much anymore). And really, snapping at Junhui is akin to kicking a cute, bouncing stack of kittens, unfathomable and inexcusable.
So no, Jeonghan isn’t particularly worried about Mingyu’s reaction to the appointment. Just. Everything else. His own reaction, the company, the other members, what this means for him and Mingyu not the least of all. They’ve carefully talked about everything but their own relationship over the last few weeks, and the longer they wait the more impossible it seems to become in Jeonghan’s head.
His spiraling is interrupted by Mingyu’s arrival to the apartment, his recently acquired spare key jangling in the lock. He rushes into the living room, looking somehow artfully bedraggled from the rain outside instead of like a drowned rat, long hair waving and making him resemble a puppy as he shakes it back out of his face. His scent is enhanced by the rain and it immediately settles the edges of Jeonghan’s nerves, warming him from the inside out. Jeonghan only realizes he’s staring when Joshua poorly hides his laugh as a cough.
At least Mingyu doesn’t seem to notice, already rambling a mile a minute, “I hope I’m not too late for you, I really thought I left in enough time but I had somewhere to stop on the way and then this rain really came out of nowhere and traffic is kind of crazy, which reminds me we should probably try to leave earlier than you said, just in case. But anyway, I realized I hadn’t really done anything for the baby, and I know it’s still so early and we decided we aren’t even going to tell anyone else right now, but, well, anyway, here.”
He blushes prettily and reaches into the shopping bag in his hand, only to shove a small bundle at Jeonghan. Jeonghan fumbles slightly before he realizes he’s holding a small stuffed animal. He turns it over in his hands, revealing a little pink bunny, able to sit in the palms of his hands. Embarrassingly, he feels his eyes immediately well up with tears as he stares down at the tiny creature. He’s somehow more emotional about this simple gesture than he was for the first ultrasound (probably partially the panic attack and partially the fact that, if he’s honest, whatever the doctor pointed at didn’t look like much of anything at all at 7 weeks).
He vaguely registers Seungkwan and Joshua retreating to the kitchen as Mingyu draws closer, hands fluttering anxiously around Jeonghan.
“Are these happy tears or sad tears? Do you think it’s ugly? There were puppies too, we could go back and exchange it, I just thought this one was nice. It reminded me of you,” he finishes shyly, hands landing on Jeonghan’s waist, a solid, grounding warmth that unfortunately only makes Jeonghan’s silent tears and ragged breath turn to outright crying.
Trust Mingyu to always, always, be thinking of someone else before himself. To see evidence of and connections to the people he loves all around him. It clarifies things for Jeonghan, answering the questions he hadn’t wanted to admit he was asking. After weeks of obsessing and thinking himself into every corner he possibly could, convincing himself that happiness was surely just out of reach for someone like him, things suddenly seem clear. Easy, in a way he couldn’t talk himself around to on his own.
Through his tears he swats at Mingyu’s chest, crying “No we’re not exchanging it! Are you crazy? It’s perfect and it’s sweet and it’s thoughtful and it’s the first thing anyone has gotten for the baby. It’s the very first thing they’ll ever own and it came from you.”
He’s still weakly whacking Mingyu in the chest, overwhelmed with the force and clarity of his feelings, when Mingyu’s hands come up to cover his, holding them over his rapidly beating heart.
As they lock eyes, something in Mingyu seems to resolve, a kind of assuredness settling across his features. He cradles Jeonghan’s hands closer, like they’re something precious to him and trails his nose lightly along Jeonghan’s neck in a gentle scenting.
He murmurs, “I don’t know why it’s a bunny plushie that did it, but are you finally caught up now?”
Jeonghan, snot and tears streaked elegantly across his face, croaks out, “Caught up to what, exactly?”
“To the fact that we’re in love with each other.”
The words are simple, spoken with a quiet kind of earnest affection that Jeonghan can recognize because he feels it too.
“I’m not always nice,” He says instead of answering Mingyu’s question, mouth moving before his brain has even fully decided what he’s going to say. “I can be mean. And petty. I can’t cook and I don’t really want to learn how and I might never remember to put my socks in the hamper after I take them off.” He pauses and looks down. “And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell you how I feel like you do. I’m working on it, but. Maybe I’m just like this.”
Mingyu just smiles. “Yoon Jeonghan, you say this like any of it should be a surprise to me. I can be mean and petty too you know. I’m sensitive and too needy sometimes. And I know you think you’re some master of disguise, but I know you. I’ve seen all the parts of you and I love them all. I want them all. As long as you want me here, you’re not getting rid of me.”
There’s a part of Jeonghan, still, that intrinsically doubts Mingyu. Not his sincerity, but doubts the likelihood that anyone would be able to put up with all of Jeonghan forever, every idiosyncrasy and sharp corner. But he thinks that, now, there’s a bigger part of him that wants to try. Because after all, he wants every part of Mingyu too.
Jeonghan almost expects himself to panic again, but against all odds he feels himself relax into it. He moves ever closer to Mingyu, drawn to him like a magnet and for once not fighting it, marveling at the way their bodies fit together like they were meant to be near. After all this it feels as easy as breathing.
Mingyu’s hands shift, moving to rest carefully against his (still mostly flat) stomach with a kind of reverence usually reserved for far off deities. Jeonghan moves his own hand up to stroke gently through Mingyu’s hair before tugging lightly on the ends. He graciously decides to ignore the way he feels Mingyu’s knees go slightly weak at the action.
Suddenly breathless, he blurts out, “You should kiss me now. We never kissed that night. We’ve never kissed, ever, and you love me and I love you and I’m already knocked up so you should kiss me.” A pause. “Like right now.”
And he does.
Mingyu moves closer, a wide, puppyish grin stretching across his face, the joy radiating clearly off of him. Their lips press together once, twice, a tender expression of feelings, the mark of a new beginning.
“You had drunk heat sex and are literally with child right now and you’ve seriously never kissed? Never?” They break apart at the sound of Seungkwan’s incredulous voice, he and Joshua clearly having been shamelessly eavesdropping. Seungkwan shakes his head, muttering, “So that sexual tension really was unresolved, for all of these years! Ah, these hyungs!”
Mingyu just laughs as Jeonghan, shameless in front of their small audience, wedges himself closer to Mingyu’s neck and scents him thoroughly. He surveys his work proudly, and silently dares another omega get near his alpha now. And if he sneaks his hand down to grab Mingyu’s ass a little, who could blame him?
Joshua shakes his head wryly, guessing (correctly) that they’re witnessing the start of a truly disgusting amount of PDA to come. He finally, at his limit of about fifteen additional seconds, interjects.
“You know you’re going to miss your ultrasound right?”
___
Jeonghan allows himself an extra moment to be silly and sentimental in the early morning light that spreads slowly across Haneul’s nursery and banishes the shadows to their dark corners in favor of all the possibilities of a new day. His eyes drift from Mingyu to their daughter, both asleep and making identical tiny snuffling noises every few seconds, and he only walks across the room to them when he actually can’t bear the way his chest seizes with affection anymore.
This is his life. And it’s good. It’s good in the way he never thought he’d get to have, certainly not while keeping his group and his members with him. It still scares him sometimes, in these quiet moments, how badly he wants to keep this. But those moments become fewer and farther in between with Mingyu at his side.
For all that they’re different, for all that Jeonghan can be difficult and prickly, and Mingyu almost unbearably vulnerable and sensitive, he’s come to know that they’re made of complementary parts. Mingyu smooths his jagged edges, shows Jeonghan, and Haneul too, every day what it means to be brave and to love with abandon. And Jeonghan? He builds an island, a refuge, out of every tender feeling for Mingyu and their daughter to come home to, safe from any storm.
He carefully runs his fingers over Mingyu’s head, feeling the silky strands of hair against his skin. “Mingoo-yah, jagiyah, you should go rest.”
When Mingyu doesn’t stir, Jeonghan decides to be annoying instead. He moves across the room, stopping next to Hanuel’s crib to whisper, “One day appa will teach you how to annoy your dad too, but for now you sleep little Hanuellie.”
Jeonghan shifts his attention back to Mingyu, who lets out a snort, a tiny bit of drool finding its way down his chin. He still manages to look like he’s about to step onto the set of a photoshoot.
Jeonghan rolls his eyes affectionately and jabs his fingers into Mingyu’s side.
He’s learned through trial and error which spots on his body are sensitive and which are unbearably ticklish, and knows this spot is definitely the latter. He thinks, briefly, about the simple pleasure of knowing the map of someone’s body like it’s another home to him. And it’s useful for moments like this too, the moments of banter and silliness, the push and pull, that he’d never want them to lose, even if he thought they could.
Mingyu startles awake, squirming away from Jeonghan’s hand and almost falling out of the chair before he rights himself. He looks around blearily, momentarily confused, before seeing Jeonghan and pulling an exaggerated pout and whining, “Aish, Jeonghan you scared the shit out of me.”
Just to be an ass, Jeonghan, who had been stifling his laughter, shushes him and points to the baby. “Ah Minggoo, you’re going to wake her, don’t be so loud!”
Mingyu shoots him a look. “And whose fault would that have been?” Jeonghan affects his most innocent, angelic face, a small smile, eyes looking up at Mingyu from under his lashes. He knows that Mingyu knows what he’s doing, and he also knows that it still gets to him anyway. Mingyu shakes his head indulgently and abruptly reaches out to grab Jeonghan’s waist and pull him down onto his lap.
Before Jeonghan can get his bearings, Mingyu pulls him into a fervent kiss. He wraps a possessive hand around the back of Jeonghan’s neck, making him keen and melt, momentarily submissive and pliant, into Mingyu’s chest. Mingyu bites down gently on his bottom lip and Jeonghan sees stars.
He goes to deepen the kiss when Haneul lets out a cry behind them. Jeonghan pulls away with a groan and drops his forehead to Mingyu’s shoulder, whose body he can feel shaking with silent laughter.
“That’s what you get for waking me up like that after I let you sleep longer!”
At the reminder, Jeonghan raises his head and levels Mingyu his sternest look. It’s not all that effective when he’s still reeling from their embrace, his body wanting nothing more to continue where they left off, but he does his best. “Which you’re absolutely not supposed to do! We agreed to switch off, you need to sleep too Mingyu-yah.”
Mingyu shrugs. “I considered it, but you’ve been having so much trouble sleeping and you looked too peaceful. Haneullie and I were having a good time anyway.”
Jeonghan bites him anyway, half out of admonishment and half out of habit, before Haneul makes it known that she’s not happy with her parents for ignoring her. Mingyu gives him one more swift kiss before standing up out of the chair, taking Jeonghan with him in something of a bridal carry and plopping him gently on his feet. He grins at Jeonghan, the morning sunlight illuminating the handsome planes of his face, before glancing at the baby.
“Get a move on Appa, she’s hungry.” He blows a kiss, pats Jeonghan on the ass, and turns to leave, hopefully headed to get some more sleep, but more likely going to make them both breakfast.
Jeonghan sticks his tongue out at Mingyu’s retreating back and goes to pick Haneul up, cradling his daughter close to his chest and sitting back in the recently abandoned rocker.
She settles quickly once she starts eating, much like Mingyu really. Jeonghan hums quietly to her while she gets her fill, a lullaby Jihoon had presented them with shortly before her birth, recorded with all the members’ help. It’s still the most touching gift he’s ever received and he and Mingyu make sure to sing or play it for Haneul every day without fail.
When she’s done, she opens her eyes and locks onto Jeonghan’s gaze, her hand grasping his in a strong grip.
“Good morning, my love. What do you think? We should go find your papa, hmm?” She blinks. “Ahh, yes Hanuellie, I agree. It is going to be a good day today.”
As if continuing the string of conversation, she lets out a sudden string of happy squawks and gurgles, and Jeonghan laughs along with her, swept up easily in the simple joy of a morning with the people he loves.
Haneul smiles up at him and they rise to greet the day.