Chapter Text
Saturday Morning
Jungkook had a fetish.
He liked being woken up with wet kisses on his groin.
He liked being sucked; having his cock taken into a warm, wet mouth while his consciousness was still hazy, suspended between the world of dreams and reality.
He liked to wake up with that throbbing sensation; with the natural movements he made with his hips, seeking more of that pleasure.
He liked to wake up writhing beneath the sheets, spreading his legs wider, undulating his hips, seeking that sensation more and more until he came and, finally, woke up for good.
But for this fetish to be fulfilled, Jungkook needed someone he could trust completely. Someone he knew he could entrust his body to entirely because that person would know what he liked, how he liked it, and what his limits were. Someone who respected him.
And he found that person years ago. Namjoon.
Namjoon knew exactly how to please Jungkook.
That’s why, that morning, when he woke up feeling his cock swelling inside his husband’s mouth, Jungkook smiled.
His left hand held his husband’s damp locks firmly in place as he continued to sway his hips lazily, penetrating his depths ever more deeply, that warm, moist cavity that always welcomed him so warmly.
Although the air conditioner was set to maximum power, due to the sensual atmosphere that enveloped the room, Jungkook felt his body gradually heat up from the inside out, causing a flushing sensation at the base of his spine and on his forehead, making a few strands of his bangs stick to his skin, along with his crimson-tinged cheeks.
There was only one phrase that defined the man at that moment: burning with lust.
So, wanting to satisfy him for the moment, Jungkook stuck his tongue out of his mouth, bringing two fingers from his right hand to the wet muscle, rubbing them against it and then sucking them eagerly, harmoniously mimicking the way his husband did to him down there.
With his mouth occupied, he smiled contentedly because... damn, how he loved being woken up that way.
About five minutes had passed since he’d woken up feeling an immeasurable wave of heat throughout his body, especially in the area below his hips. His member throbbed, wet, and still half-asleep, he thought all those sensations were just a dream.
A very delicious dream.
However, as he felt long fingers grip his thighs while full lips rained kisses and even light bites over the inner parts of that voluptuous area, Jungkook realized this wasn’t just a dream, which was much better.
Soon his left hand traveled to the strands of hair at the nape of his neck, where he wrapped his fingers around them and pulled hard, speaking softly so that only the other could hear him:
“Make me come, baby. Make me come really good.” with narrowed eyes, a furrowed brow, and a mix of pain and pleasure, Jungkook writhed on the bed, reveling in the thought of himself cumming in Namjoon’s mouth.
“And since when has your man ever let you down?” his husband asked rhetorically, his voice hoarse, a telltale sign of someone who, just seconds ago, had been choking on a cock.
Since then, they had been there trying to make the most of that time, since, given the fleeting nature of their routines, it had become difficult to find private moments like that, with the aim of enjoying each other’s company to the fullest, in a more intimate and passionate way. So, when they managed to find this free moment, they teased each other to the max, arousing one another until they reached the peak of their limits.
Feeling his fingers sufficiently lubricated, Jungkook pulled them out of his mouth, making a wet, obscene popping sound.
Namjoon, delighted by that sound, moaned against Jungkook’s cock, sending vibrations down its entire length, culminating in an electric shock; sending shivers through his entire body all the way to his toes, which wiggled restlessly.
Jungkook smiled, intoxicated, delighted. He loved the way Namjoon devoured him, choked on him, and yet kept going because he was hungry. Namjoon was hungry for Jungkook. And just with his hands all over his body, and his hungry mouth sucking his cock tighter and tighter, he had the power to disorient all his senses, leaving Jungkook drunk with love. Insigne was the perfect definition for that man who was so good to him in every little detail.
And so feeling his member being greedily swallowed, Jungkook ran his lubricated fingers along his jawline down to his neck, tracing his collarbone until he reached his brownish nipple, unleashing all the pent-up desire he’d been building up for days onto that tiny, yet incredibly erogenous spot.
He started by massaging in very slow circles, then tried pinching it, feeling a pleasant little pain that made his hair stand on end and caused him to writhe on the already rumpled white sheets.
“Joonie...” he didn’t know if his voice had sounded like a call or a moan, but he said nothing more after his husband’s name, preferring to enjoy the sensations he was causing in your own body.
Namjoon, hearing his name slip sinfully from that little mouth, pulled his hard cock out of his own mouth only to stick out his tongue, letting the tip brush against the swollen glans.
It was inexplicable how he knew every part of that body by heart, making it inevitable that Jungkook would roll his eyes every time his husband withdrew his entire length from his mouth just to kiss the tip, sticking his tongue out and letting the mixture of pre-cum and saliva, lubricating his swollen little head to gently blow on it and suck it once more.
“Baby… hmmm… Joonie, don’t tease me like that,” he pleaded in a breathless, eager voice, while continuing to pull hard on the strands of hair at the back of his husband’s neck in a way he knew would cause a pleasurable burning sensation in him, arousing him even more.
In response, Namjoon clenched his hands around that slender waist, scratching with his nails all the way down to his thighs, marking them with red streaks.
That was how they liked it: rough and with a touch of brutality. They enjoyed, to a certain extent, the pain that led them to the most exquisite pleasure.
“Fuck, babe,” he gasped, followed by a very coy moan. “You’re so good to me, Joon… so, so good to me,” he hissed with effort, rolling his eyes once more. It was getting hard to organize his thoughts into coherent speech. “Y-yes, keep going… Like that… just like that… don’t-” he cut himself off as he choked on his own saliva, feeling another jolt in his lower abdomen and a shiver run through his entire body, which led him to increase the rhythm of his thrusts, frantic and intense enough to hit deep into his husband’s throat, causing him to make a choking sound many times.
Namjoon, taking advantage of the fact that his husband was still writhing on the bed’s silky sheets, his hips rising and falling, brought his large hands, slightly calloused from work, to his husband’s perfectly round, muscular buttocks, squeezing them with such force that his fingers would likely leave marks there for quite some time.
That was the final push Jungkook needed to signal that he was close to orgasm. On the verge of coming at any moment, in a desperate move he brought his right hand to his mouth, sinking his teeth into his palm to stifle the lewd moans that might wake the children.
However, he let out a discontented pout at no longer feeling the pressure of hands roughing up his ass. It didn’t last long, though, as he immediately felt his neck being wrapped by his man’s calloused hand, smiling lasciviously at the act.
His legs limp as jelly, his brow furrowed, his hand being bitten by his teeth, his toes curling, and his breathing partially restricted, it was the brief moment needed for Jungkook to tremble and come in seconds, when...
“Daddys!” a soft sweet voice called from behind the door, followed by five timid knocks on the wood.
The grip around his neck loosened the very moment Jungkook’s eyes widened in alarm, and he sat up abruptly, propping himself up on his elbows.
He looked anxiously toward the door, then averted his gaze to the white sheet covering him at the waist, where his husband was hidden, repeating the action once more, thinking that at any moment the door could be opened by their daughter.
He pulled the blanket up, seeing Namjoon staring back at him with eyes just as wide as his own, the erection still in his mouth and a trickle of saliva running down to his chin. It would have been a comical scene, if they weren’t in such circumstances. Maybe this is one of those funny scenes that, in time, they’ll laugh about together. But for now, Jungkook was just very nervous.
“Get out of there, Namjoon, get out!” he urged, tapping the other’s shoulder so he’d do as asked right away. Jungkook felt the softness and warmth that had been so satisfying just seconds ago slowly give way to the freezing air of the room.
“Stay calm, the door is locked,” he said, as if he’d heard his husband’s concern through telepathy, focusing on planting tender kisses on his groin, where he also slid his nose down to his navel, taking in the natural scent of the man he’d been in love with for over ten years.
“Namjoon, not now…” Jungkook complained in a coy voice because he still felt a latent desire to remain in that bubble of lust with his man. However, Sunmi was calling them, and they couldn’t ignore their little girl’s call.
God forbid they be irresponsible parents.
The couple never ignored a request from any of their three children. The kids always came first, even if it was a little frustrating to be interrupted when they were burning with desire; however, they always found a way to make love in private.
“Oh, but just a few seconds ago you weren’t talking like that.”
“That’s because seconds ago our daughter wasn’t knocking on the door calling for us!”
And then three more knocks, this time a little louder and more urgent, were heard.
“We’re coming, sweetie!” Jungkook called out loudly so the little girl could hear him.
Namjoon lifted himself up and crawled until his face was right up against his husband’s, gazing deep into those round black eyes that looked more like marbles.
Placing a little kiss on the tip of his nose, he said softly: “Go take care of that little problem” he glanced at the very obvious erection. “Take a shower and make yourself smell nice. Take your time, I know how much you love those skin care rituals.” Jungkook smiled lovingly, the care and tenderness implicit in those words. “Meanwhile, I’ll keep an eye on our little rascals and make breakfast.”
“Namjoon and breakfast don’t belong in the same sentence. Actually, you and anything involving the kitchen,” he said, teasing his husband as he stretched out on the mattress with a lazy smile.
“I can take care of myself, okay? And I want to spoil you guys today with my cooking skills,” he said as he gently brushed the strands of hair still stuck to Jungkook’s forehead.
They smiled at each other knowingly.
“Daddy, wake up! Sunmi lost her little girl,” she said in a voice already choked with emotion. The girl, or rather, the little girl, was her pacifier, which had a doll design on the clip, paired with a pillow, both of which the Sunmi used at bedtime.
Sunmi couldn’t fall asleep without clutching the soft, cotton-candy-scented pillow and her little pacifier.
“Daddy’s coming, sweetie. I’ll just brush my teeth real quick so I can help you.” It was Namjoon’s turn to try to calm the little one, as he hurriedly got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth, wash his hands and face, and smooth out the strands of hair sticking out in all directions.
Jungkook also got out of bed, though a little more slowly, and wrapped in a sheet, he leaned against the doorframe to watch his husband brush his teeth at lightning speed, getting his white T-shirt dirty in the process.
With a tender smile, he reflected on how beautiful and charming it was that Namjoon still carried within him the clumsy essence of his youth. They had known each other for twelve years, and in that long time together, four years of dating, one of engagement, and seven of marriage, still, every time he looked at his husband, Jungkook still saw that twenty-two-year-old boy, all clumsy, carrying yards of fabric in his arms, blocking his view. And if it weren’t for Jungkook, the performing arts student who had miraculously been wandering around that part of the university, a tall boy with tousled brown hair, he probably would have tumbled down the stairs just like his spools and rolls of fabric.
So that’s how they met: acting out a cliché scene out of a 2000s movie.
And in all those 4.015 days they shared together, without exaggeration, Jungkook, with every sunrise, would catch a glimpse of and fall in love with yet another little detail about Kim Namjoon.
As he stepped out of the bathroom, he walked seductively toward his husband, wearing a sly, mischievous smile that highlighted his dimple and completely disarmed him. Leaning in close, Namjoon whispered in a dangerously hoarse voice, right into his husband’s ear: “We’ll continue later. Get ready because I’m going to fuck you good all night long” he declared, slapping his husband’s ass hard before walking out the bathroom door.
Jungkook walked into the bathroom with a small smile on his face, catching the muffled voices of the two little ones he loved so much as he slipped out of the sheet and tossed it into the brown laundry basket under the sink along with the rest of his dirty clothes.
“Hi, sweetheart! Where’s Daddy’s hug?”
A sweet melodious laugh, followed by clapping, echoed through the room; Sunmi had probably thrown herself into Namjoon’s arms.
“Where are your brothers?”
“Tete and Hobi are sleeping.”
“Hmm, I see. So let’s go find your little girl and then wake up those two lazyboys, and then…”
He couldn’t hear any more of the conversation that followed because the bedroom door had been closed. That was Jungkook’s cue to open the glass door and step into the shower stall, which was separated from the bathtub only by a low partition.
The space was surrounded by glass walls that provided a clear view of the area, and of whoever was showering there, to the person lying in the double tub, which faced the small shower stall. He turned on the faucet, letting the jets of warm water run down his body to the drain. And imagining Namjoon’s hands dancing across his skin, he sighed, surrendered to the very touches that carried him to the heavens in a matter of seconds, finally finding relief for the aching problem between his legs.
Afterward, he washed his hands under the warm running water; he picked up the vanilla-scented soap to wash his whole body, and even though he was worried about his husband being alone, cooking and taking care of the three noisy and mischievous little ones, he allowed himself to take that time to pamper himself.
He conditioned his hair with a red fruit mask, and while it took effect, he took the opportunity to perform his skincare routine.
Jungkook was quite meticulous about his own face. First, because he enjoyed taking such good care of himself, and second, because, in a way, his appearance helped him land roles in new films.
However, the actor had already turned down offers where he would have to undergo cosmetic procedures to land the role. Everything Jungkook did was meant to make him feel comfortable and show himself as he truly was, since he had embraced the mission of conveying a message to his audience about the importance of valuing talent over appearance.
For Jungkook, recognition should come from outstanding work, rather than the contours of his face or whether or not he fits the standards mistakenly set by the industry. Standards that, honestly, to begin with, shouldn’t even exist because no human being on Earth would be capable of meeting all the expectations of billions of other people.
He isn’t judging people who undergo plastic surgery or any other cosmetic procedures to change a part of their body in order to feel happier and more satisfied with themselves. That is not the issue, but rather the reason society operates with imperatives regarding ideal bodies that lead a significant portion of the population to feel guilty, frantically seeking to mold themselves into such a volatile standard of beauty.
Standing in front of the mirror, the actor dried his silky strands, unsure whether to pull them back into a bun that would highlight the shaved sides or let them fall in black, satin-like cascades, just a little below his chin, which was where the length reached at the moment.
He opted for a bun, grabbing a few bobby pins to start styling it, letting a few strands of him bangs fall over her temples to give the look a more relaxed feel. He looked stunning.
Then he applied lip balm, giving his lips a subtle tint; he liked the taste of red berries he pressed one lip against the other. However, his children didn’t appreciate it as much because their cheeks would end up sticky after a flurry of kisses from daddy Kookie.
While he was busy applying a soft pink blush to his cheekbones and lengthening own lashes with mascara, he recalled some of the moments he’d shared with Namjoon over the years, feeling grateful for everything they’d managed to achieve.
In college, he was a free spirit, bold and boisterous. He was true to himself, paying no heed to the judgments of people who added nothing to his life. However, after graduation, Jungkook went through a difficult period of unemployment, during which self-deprecating thoughts took over his mind. He thought the problem lay with him, with his appearance, so he tried to conform to social norms in order to get hired. And he succeeded. However, his first premiere was a fiasco, according to the actor.
He felt suffocated trying to hide his true self during interviews. He even received an absurd request to deepen his voice, as it was somewhat effeminate and might give the wrong impression of him. That day, Jungkook had come home exhausted and with a headache, needing the comfort of Namjoon, who was already his boyfriend at the time.
With him head resting on the stylist’s lap, feeling him stroke your hair, he heard him say:
“If you aren’t yourself, then who else could Jeon Jungkook be? The world needs to get to know you, baby, so please don’t let yourself be silenced just because a bunch of jerks have filled your little head with the idea that your existence isn’t beautiful and precious just the way it is. I love you so much, Jungkook, and as far as I can and as long as you let me, I’ll encourage you and show my support in your battles. I just ask that you stay true to yourself, love, because that is the true beauty of a person.”
He then assured him that he would understand if his boyfriend wanted to continue following their own path, but asked the actor to also reflect on the importance of the representation he could bring to those who, for far too long, have thought of themselves as ugly, wrong, and thus silenced.
Since then Jungkook has regained his self-respect, embracing his free spirit once again.
And as a father, he wanted his children to absorb the same message, striving to instill it in their upbringing.
With these thoughts still swirling in his mind, he put two silver hoops in each ear, a necklace with a simple pendant resting on his chest, and voilà, he was ready.
He walked calmly back to the bedroom, entering his closet to put on a basic outfit: a rose-colored pleated skirt, made especially for him, as well as a black dress shirt with white stripes, which was two sizes too big for him. He buttoned the first four buttons, tying the excess fabric into a knot, leaving the ends loose, and finally rolling up the sleeves to just above his elbows.
Back in the bedroom, he picked up his slightly outdated Canon from the dresser and walked out the door.
As he walked down the stairs, adjusting the camera lens, he heard the symphony of cutlery clinking together, soft yet boisterous laughter, and the sound of clapping; the voices blended into an asynchronous melody, accompanied by the noise of the toaster and a children’s song coming from the TV in the living room.
“Good morning, my loves!” he had to shout so his voice could be heard above the noise.
“Good morning, daddy!” they all replied in unison, with the same enthusiasm as before. It was a scene straight out of a margarine commercial, if those commercials were acted out by gay couples and their children.
First, he approached his youngest daughter, who had recently turned four. The party’s theme had been Enchanted Garden, and the whole family was dressed up as characters from little Sunmi’s favorite cartoons, while she was the most colorful and sparkling little butterfly in that magical little world.
Kim Sunmi had her hair tied in a ponytail, sitting in her little yellow chair with colorful butterflies. She was still wearing her lilac pajamas. In fact, everyone present was wearing their sleepwear, except for Namjoon and Jungkook, who had already taken a shower.
“Who’s the most beautiful little girl in the whole wide world?” he asked, planting a kiss on her cheek. Sunmi’s eyes widened with joy as she wiggled her little body and clapped her hands upon seeing daddy Kookie. However, despite her excitement, she didn’t take her mouth off her little cup of smoothie, which Jungkook guessed was papaya and banana based on the color. The little girl’s favorite.
He planted several kisses on her neck, inhaling the scent of baby lavender, then turned to Hoseok, the eight-year-old son sitting next to his sister, wearing a pajama set with little carrot prints. Orange was his favorite color at the moment.
Just like his parents, Hobi loved to express himself through his clothes, always asking Namjoon to make his shirts by sewing on a small smiling sunflower with the name “Hope” embroidered underneath. According to him, that would be his stage name when he grew up.
“Look, Dad, look!” he said, opening his mouth and pointing excitedly at a new baby tooth.
“Another one already?” asked the actor, watching his son nod, staring at him with sparkling eyes. “And where are the little windows? Show them to the camera, sunshine,” he asked, zooming in with the lens to emphasize the face, more precisely, the happy, wide smile Hobi was flashing at that moment; bright and warm like a star in the Milky Way.
The boy proudly showed off the tiny holes where two baby teeth had once been. It had been a real tearjerker to have them pulled, but after receiving a tub of chocolate ice cream all to himself, the boy had calmed down.
“Dad, I already told you it’s not Little Sunshine anymore, it’s Hope now,” Jungkook corrected him regarding the change to his stage name. Hobi dreamed of becoming a successful rapper when he grew up, and he was improvising rhymes at any time of the day.
“Oh, yes, how could I have forgotten?” he said, placing his hand on his forehead in a theatrical gesture. “I beg your pardon, dear Mr. Hope,” he added, making a dramatic bow, followed by a wink at the end.
Anyway, Jungkook walked around the ten-seat table to speak with Taehyung, his eldest son, who was twelve years old and also the first to have been adopted by the couple. He was wearing black satin shorts and a shirt of the same color featuring characters from his favorite anime.
“There’s someone here who isn’t following the rule about not using cell phones while we’re eating at the table” with one hand on his hip and the other holding the camera, he called out to his son, who was so engrossed in his phone that he had barely touched his food.
“So does that mean if I go to the living room, I can start using it again?”
“Hahaha, smarty-pants.” Jungkook looked at him with a serious expression. “Turn that phone off right now.”
“Sorry, Dad,” he said, already turning off the screen and setting the phone aside on the table.
Jungkook moved closer to the boy, ruffling his wavy chocolate-brown hair, then giving him a little kiss.
“So, tell us, how are your guitar lessons going?”
“Uncle Yoongi is cool; he’s really good at playing.” He gave a thumbs-up. “He said I’m learning really fast.”
“That’s great, son! I can’t wait to hear you play, but until then, be careful with your fingers, Tae. This is already the third one you’ve hurt, and dad’s worried about you,” he said as he took his son’s injured hand, stroking the three fingers wrapped in band-aids.
“Relax, Dad, it’s no big deal.” Tae reassured Jungkook, pulling his hand away and going back to eating.
Indeed, a determined boy. Every single day, without exception, Taehyung practiced the notes on his guitar. Whether at Uncle Min’s house or in his own room, he was always striving to improve as much as possible.
Jungkook didn’t quite understand why there was such a rush to learn a song so quickly, but the boy would just shrug every time his father asked, and go back to strumming the strings. After planting another little kiss on the top of his son’s head, the actor went to join his husband.
“Carrot one, Namjoon zero,” he teased as he walked into the kitchen, watching the stylist struggling to cut the vegetable and failing at every attempt, looking slightly irritated.
“This is harder than it looks, okay?”
“Of course it’s going to be hard, honey. I’ve never seen anyone cut a carrot like they’re cutting meat,” he laughed loudly. “You have to cut it in half, then you decide if you want to make rounds or strips.”
“Aaaah” he exclaimed in understanding. “I hadn’t thought of that, thanks.” He thanked him, setting about doing it the way Jungkook had advised.
“What do you want to make?”
“ I want to get a head start on the kids’ afternoon snack. So I thought I’d make that chicken and carrot pâté as a filling for the sandwiches.
“I think it would be better to use the grater; it’ll be much faster and easier for you,” he advised him once again as he turned off the camera, placing the grater on a high shelf so the children wouldn’t be able to reach it.
After grabbing the grater and handing it to him husband, he approached him very quietly, pressing her chest against the other man’s broad back, hugging him from behind.
“Tomorrow will be a very special day,” he murmured against his neck, leaving a simple kiss behind his ear.
“Very, very special indeed. Where it all began…” Namjoon confessed in a passionate voice, stopping his work to intertwine his hands with his husband’s on his hip, turning his face toward him to then whisper against those rosy, delicate lips: “Tomorrow, we’ll have been together for twelve years… A long time, don’t you think?”
“And do you regret it?” Jungkook retorted, joking.
“Never,” Namjoon replied without hesitation. “Every day I wake up by your side, I’m even more certain that I want to share my whole life with you.”
Jungkook’s heart raced, surprised by the sudden declaration, even after years of marriage. Perhaps it was a common reaction when you find your soulmate; no matter how many years they spent together, Jungkook always, irrevocably, felt his body react to Namjoon, as if he were falling in love for the first time.
They brought their faces close until their breaths mingled. The actor gently cupped his husband’s face with his right hand, lightly caressing his cheek with his thumbs. They smiled lovingly, before sealing their lips in a sweet, soft, and delicate kiss.
A kiss that, in a fraction of a second, gave the couple memories of the entire story they had built together, like flashbacks from a saccharine romantic movie, but one neither of them would trade for any other.
After all, just like the cliché afternoon movies, Namjoon and Jungkook never go out of style.
“Always as sweet as apples,” the stylist whispered against his man’s lips. And Jungkook could clearly feel Namjoon smile before their mouths touched once more.
However, they couldn’t prolong that moment for long, due to the high-pitched squeals coming from the kitchen. As they pulled apart, they turned their gaze toward their children, wondering what they were up to this time. And then, the couple was met with a rather unusual scene:
Hoseok with noodles in his hair as if it were a wig, swaying them from side to side while singing the Lazy Town theme song to his sister. And amidst all the chaos the younger ones were causing, Taehyung continued to eat his toast in silence, his eyes lost in the window across from the table where he sat.
“Are we raising them right?” he asked, with a stifled laugh as he watched the scene.
“We’re always doing our best; I think that’s what matters most.”
Jungkook nodded, moving away from Namjoon’s body as he spoke:
“You’re the one who’s going to get scolded this time. I already scolded Tae today for using his phone while eating. I don’t want to always be the mean dad.”
“Okay,” he kissed his husband’s cheek before walking to the kitchen door, adopting a serious posture with his arms crossed over her chest to get her son’s attention.
“Kim Hoseok!”
That was all it took for the little boy to freeze, his eyes wide, with that classic look of someone caught red-handed doing something naughty.
“Whoa! Okay, okay, I’ve stopped,” he said as he picked the strands of pasta off his head one by one and put them back on his plate. “You don’t have to get mad at me.”
“Go get another serving from your dad, you little rascal! And I don’t want to see you playing with your food anymore, got it?”
Hobi got up from his chair, nodding in understanding first, and walked over to the other father, who promptly handed him a new bowl of pasta and also helped his son sit down in the dining room chair.
The actor watched his husband, who was now tending to their youngest daughter, helping her wipe the jam off her little hands, then picking her up and walking toward him.
“Honey, I’m going upstairs to help Sunmi with her bath.”
“Okay. Where’s Taehyung?”
“He must already be up there in the bathroom,” he replied, moving even closer to the actor.
“Shall we give Daddy Kookie a kiss before taking a little bath?” Sunmi smiled radiantly, bouncing on her other daddy’s arm to get closer to Jeon and plant a slobbery kiss on his cheek.
“What a sweet kiss, sweetheart!” he returned the affection, nuzzling the little girl’s cheek and neck, who smiled, claiming it tickled.
Then it was Namjoon’s turn to kiss those thin, apple-colored lips, as sweet as an apple, and soon after, he walked out of the room.
Jungkook turned toward the counter where the cutting board with the grated carrots was sitting, adding them all to the glass bowl containing the rest of the ingredients to finish the pâté. And as he mixed everything together, finished sealing the container, and put it in the fridge, he noticed the strange silence coming from his youngest son.
Jungkook looked at Hobi, finding him with a sulky face, muttering things to himself as he stirred the pasta on his plate.
“What’s bothering my little sunshine so much?” he asked as he approached his son.
“Dad…”
“Tell me, my love,” he encouraged, his voice gentle, as he brushed the little boy’s hair back.
“Tae’s acting weird. All he cares about is that guitar over there; he’s glued to it all the time and doesn’t pay any attention to me anymore. And every time I ask him to play video games, he says he’s busy, talking to "I don't know who on the phone”, he crossed his little arms, lowered his head, and pouted, just like his dad.
Jungkook stepped closer to his son, wrapping his left arm around his small, slender shoulders, and brushed a few strands of hair from his forehead with his left hand.
“Taehyung is entering a new phase, sunshine, and it’s normal for him to lose interest in some things, like wanting to be alone a little more, and also wanting to hang out with people his own age. That’s called adolescence, and both you and Sunmi will go through this phase too.”
“I don’t want to become as unbearable as he is.”
Jungkook smiled.
He smiled because he knew that behind all that teasing, Hobi was afraid his brother would forget about him. Jungkook had never witnessed such deep camaraderie in a relationship as the one between his sons. They were extremely attached to each other, despite their little squabbles.
That’s why the actor’s heart warmed when he watched them together and saw the bond they shared. It was as transparent as lace, the strong brotherly bond that existed between Taehyung and Hoseok.
Hobi always pointed to his older brother as his best friend, that is, when Taehyung wasn’t around, of course. Besides seeing his brother as someone to look up to. They were always together, whether it was playing video games, doing homework, or competing in swimming meets. And they were together through their mischief and scoldings, too.
“Don’t talk like that, Hobi,” he sighed. “Your brother’s just growing up, and just because he’s a little distant doesn’t mean he loves you any less, hm? Taehyung loves you, sweetie.”
“I doubt it,” he said sulkily, arms crossed, still pouting.
“You doubt it, huh?” he pinched her son’s little nose, hearing him chuckle in response. “Then tell me, who draws those cool posters every time you have a swimming competition?”
It turns out that at all of Hoseok’s competitions, his older brother would always draw encouraging posters with colorful phrases just the way he liked them, followed by drawings depicting Hobi as Sharkboy: the most agile, fastest, and handsomest shark boy of all the seas... Oops! Pools.
“Taetae.”
“Yeah, Taetae, your brother.”
“Okay, Dad, I get it. I’ll give that big-eared guy a break.”
“Hobi…” he scolded “you can’t give someone a nickname based on a part of their body, much less call them names for it. Nicknames are meant to show affection, my son, not to offend someone, especially when you’re pointing out a part of their body. It’s wrong and it hurts a lot. Don’t do that again.”
“Sorry, Dad... but it’s just that the kids at school always do that, so I thought it was okay. But I swear, I promise” he raised his pinky to link it with his father’s “I won’t do that anymore.”
Jungkook hugged his son, planting a little kiss on his forehead.
“Now off to the bath, and don’t jump off the ba-”
Hobi jumped off the bench, nearly falling flat on the floor because of the height, and dashed down the stairs with a smile on his face.
Left alone, the actor took the opportunity to wash the dishes, even though the agreement was that the stylist would be responsible for that task, since he wasn’t very good in the kitchen. However, Namjoon was giving the youngest a bath, so, of course, Jungkook was going to help his husband. That’s how they worked: based on mutuality and companionship.
After finishing washing all the plates, glasses, and cutlery, he wiped away all the excess water from the counter with a squeegee, drying the rest with a dishcloth. Upon completing the task, as if on cue, he saw his children running down the stairs until they reached the living room.
I mean... Only Hobi was running. Sunmi was walking down patiently, step by step, holding Daddy Joon’s hand, while Taehyung walked down oblivious to everyone, with his red headphones on and smiling broadly at something he was looking at on his phone.
They all headed out together to Jungkook’s Range Rover. That’s right, it was just a family car, since Namjoon preferred riding a bike as a means of transportation, even to get to his studio. However, on the occasions when he needed to carry fabrics, mannequins, and folders with the designs for the new collection, or if it was simply raining, it was his husband, Jungkook, who drove him.
After checking that all the children were safe, with their seatbelts fastened, and that Sunmi’s car seat was securely fastened, the couple got into the vehicle and set off toward that day’s three destinations.
🌈 🏠 📹
The first stop was at the apartment of Kim Jangmi, the children’s grandmother and Namjoon’s mother. She was already waiting on the sidewalk for the family to arrive, a gentle smile on her face.
The night before, while the fashion designer was talking to his mother on a video call, the matriarch of the Kim family showed him the pineapple pie she was making for her grandchildren; immediately little Sunmi, who was standing nearby playing with her Woody doll, lit up at the word “pie,” running straight into her father’s arms and holding her little head up to the camera, smiling excitedly and calling out for Grandma Kim.
Jangmi assured her granddaughter that on Monday, as soon as everyone got home from school, they could have a little piece of pie before lunch. But Sunmi, being the sweet tooth that she was, couldn’t wait until Monday to arrive, so she immediately asked her parents to take her to Grandma Kim’s house the very next day. That was why, at that very moment, Jungkook was parking the car in front of the building where his mother-in-law lived.
After greeting everyone, she assured her other two grandchildren that she had saved a piece of pie for each of them and that, later, when they came to pick up their sister, she would give it to them. Then Jangmi took little Sunmi’s hand in hers, heading back to the apartment complex while her granddaughter chattered happily, waving her free little hand.
After making sure they had both safely entered the apartment complex, Jungkook turned the car’s ignition and got back on the road, driving toward their second destination.
“Turn on the music, Dad!” Hobi asked, persistently nudging Namjoon’s shoulder.
“How do you say that?”
“Pleeeease”
The fashion designer then turned on the radio, and immediately the opening chords of Post Malone’s “Circles” began playing at a moderate volume.
“This is the best song to drive to,” he exclaimed with his eyes closed, feeling the music and snapping his fingers to the beat.
“But you don’t even know how to drive,” Hobi remarked from the back seat.
Namjoon put on an indignant face, glancing at his son in the rearview mirror as he retorted: “And my bike doesn’t count?”
“Well, of course not. There’s no air conditioning,” he held up a little finger, “and no radio on the bike,” and another, listing his arguments, which, to him, were quite obvious.
Jungkook laughed out loud, but didn’t get involved in that extremely important debate.
“I can use my headphones. And why do we need air conditioning when we can freely feel the air filling our lungs and blowing through our hair?”
“Are you talking about the same air that’s full of carbon dioxide, which throws our climate out of balance and will likely kill thousands of people a year from cancer and other respiratory diseases?” Taehyung spoke up for the first time.
“Is that so…?” he sighed. “You’re right, my son,” he agreed, feeling a little disheartened as he reflected on the planet’s current state. But at the same time, his heart swelled with pride that Taehyung already possessed such insight.
That’s right… Parents also learn from their children.
“We are living in a time when it is essential to reeducate ourselves about habits that have been harmful to our own home for many years. If we continue like this, consuming the resources the Earth provides us with, ignorant of the fact that they are not inexhaustible, and prioritizing capital over lives, then soon there will be no home left for us.”
Taehyung nodded silently, putting his headphones back on and turning his attention to the window, where he watched the scenery while searching for answers to his trembling hands and racing heart with every message he received on his phone.
Hobi, meanwhile, stood with his arms crossed and a funny, confused expression on his face, trying to process all those difficult words spoken by his father. He hadn’t understood much enough to join in on that adult conversation, but his father Namjoon was a very intelligent man, Hobi thought, so he chose to say:
“That’s so cool, Dad!” with a huge smile on his lips and both thumbs up, giving a thumbs-up sign.
Soon after, Jungkook, with his angelic voice, began to sing along to the upbeat song playing on the radio. And everyone, even Taehyung, who had previously been wearing his inseparable red headphones and lost in thought, sang that song. And so they remained, the whole family singing together until the moment Jungkook had to park his car in front of the swimming pool.
Namjoon said goodbye to his husband with a peck on the cheek and assured him he didn’t need to worry about picking them up, since they’d take a taxi home.
At any other time, Jungkook might have refused and said he’d pick up his husband and son after the club meeting, but this time he agreed, thinking it would be better that way. What if the stylist found out what he was about to do?
Hobi was the last to jump out of the car, not before giving his father a kiss on the cheek, then approaching his older brother and surprising him with a lick on his face. Taehyung screamed in anger
“I wonder if you’re as sour as you look,” said Hobi, hurrying to close the car door and running toward the group of children in front of the gym doors.
Jungkook waved to the two of them, a sweet smile on his lips that lingered until they were out of sight.
When his son and husband disappeared from view, Jungkook pressed the button that slowly raised the car’s tinted windows.
With a serious expression, he waited silently until Taehyung took the passenger seat, already fastening his seatbelt.
Jungkook then leaned over to the glove compartment, pulling out a pair of James Bond-style sunglasses, handing one of them to Taehyung, who rolled his eyes, muttering, “Do we really need this?” before putting them on.
They looked at each other at the same time.
“Alright, what’s the plan?”