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Seokjin and Yoongi's day started with counting. While Seokjin was still in bed, pushing the pillow over his head as he tried to cling onto the last threads of his dream, Yoongi entered his bedroom and started to count his books. 

Yoongi was better than any alarm clock Seokjin ever had. He came in at 6:30 every morning and sat in front of Seokjin's bookcase to count the books on his shelf. 

"...19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24," Yoongi was counting, his voice monotone. Seokjin peeked out from underneath his pillow to look at his son as he dragged his finger over the spines of the books from side to side. 

He couldn't get out of bed yet, not until Yoongi finished counting. If he did, there would be hell to pay in the form of an anxious 11-year-old who would cry until he could count again. So he waited, watching Yoongi as he continued to count. 

"50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 60," his finger stopped at the last book on Seokjin's shelf, and he saw his son's shoulders slump in relief. If Seokjin ever got any new books, Yoongi had to put them in the shelf. He had to be able to see where they were, how they fit with the other books and then had to count them to get the number in his mind. 

"Dad?" Yoongi was by the bed now. Seokjin hummed, cracking open an eye. He must have dozed off while Yoongi finished counting. 

"Yeah, buddy?" He asked, sitting up slowly with a yawn. Yoongi watched him with dark eyes, then blinked. 

"I want Fruity Pebbles."

Seokjin huffed out a loud, clearing his throat loudly a few times until the urge went away, and swung his legs out of bed. He huffed a few times, shook his head from side to side a few times and cracked his knuckles before he was ready to get out of bed. 

"Alright," he said, "do we have milk?" He asked, following Yoongi out of the bedroom. 

Their small apartment, two rooms and a bathroom. It was pretty barren, with a few moving boxes still scattered about. They had moved to Seoul for Seokjin's job. Getting a job at BigHit, even just as a secretary, was a big thing. 

BigHit had risen in popularity over a short amount of time with their hit music from artists. The one many people knew well was RM, a self-made producer who owned the company. He was a rapper, and someone Yoongi looked up to greatly. He built the company from the ground up and made BigHit into what it was now. 

Seokjin didn't bother too much with it. He had done singing in high school and in college, even was scouted by a few companies, but he never became a trainee. No one wanted an Idol to be someone with Tourettes. Especially not in South Korea, where judgement over something as small as medication for an illness rose eyebrows and had the potential to cause scandals in celebrities. 

Seokjin had been diagnosed with Tourettes when he was thirteen. His parents tried to give him all the opportunities they could. His father made him go to therapy and his mother was constantly supportive of what he did in life. Seokjin could feel their worry, however. 

They were worried that their son wouldn't be able to do much in life. Like many parents who didn't know much about neurological disorders, they hadn't done many things right for Seokjin. There wasn't a whole lot of support at home, and there was a lot of bullying. 

Even Seokjin's ex-wife, who left him after finding a guy who didn't clear his throat every five seconds or tap his fingers against his forehead until it made an audible noise. She left him with newborn Yoongi, stealing a quarter of the money in their shared account and then running off to marry some foreign guy. 

He hadn't heard from her, but that was fine. He and Yoongi were happy with this life. They didn't need anyone else. 

Yoongi's life hadn't been pitch-perfect either. An early diagnose of OCD and depressive disorders gave him prescriptions of medications that Seokjin just couldn't afford, and both of them had been troubled by that. Yoongi's burst of emotional roller coasters had gotten him kicked out of schools more times than Seokjin could count, and whenever he tried to explain Yoongi's OCD or Depression to any adult at a school, they put him into a special needs class where he was held back multiple years and was labelled as mentally retarded for two years. 

Seokjin had taken to hiring homeschoolers. They came in every day except for the weekends, and holidays, and were more well adjusted to Yoongi's learning needs and adaptations. Yoongi was very smart, a prodigy in some eyes. One of Yoongi's good friends, Im Jaebum, gave them a piano he was getting rid of and Yoongi bloomed. 

He was wonderful at the piano and taught himself from YouTube videos and tutorials. It was good for him, good for both of them. 

Seokjin stumbled into the kitchen, yawning into his hand and rubbing the sleep out of his face as he grabbed the cereal and milk. He gave them to Yoongi who started to make himself some breakfast and Seokjin left the room, shuffling out of the room and into his own. 

He got dressed, his fingers flexing a little as another clearing throat tic came through. If he got a lot of his tics out of his body, hopefully, he could do his work without any problems. 

Ha. Probably not. 

He got dressed, a simple nice white shirt with a blue tie, dark pants, and some nice shoes. He cleaned his face, combed his hair until it was out of his face and dabbed a little bit of concealer over his face, covering any imperfections that dotted his face. 

There wasn't any shame in doing makeup or wearing it as a man. It made him more attractive to others and made him feel better about his face and skin. After doing his makeup and making sure it was set and not moving, he left the room. 

The things he needed for his job were simple. Key-card, company phone, and a folder where he would put information for his boss. The folder was nice, having a planner for the day and the month, easy to mark up and enough space for Seokjin's slightly janky handwriting. 

He looked through his things a final time before looking to Yoongi who was eating his cereal and reading through a book. "I'm headed out," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of Yoongi's head. Yoongi's head arched up, kissing his cheek. 

"I love you," Seokjin said. 

"I love you, too," Yoongi repeated. 

That was another one of Yoongi's anxieties. If he wasn't the one to say 'I love you' last, he was terrified that something would happen to Seokjin, that he would die and Yoongi would be left alone. The fear came from his mother leaving them. Yoongi hadn't said he loved her last, and she vanished. In Yoongi's eyes, she was dead.

That was probably for the better. 

Seokjin took a last look of inventory before he left the house, locking it behind him. Yoongi's teacher had a key, and Yoongi knew not to let in people he didn't know, so Seokjin was confident about Yoongi's ability to take care of himself until Jackson arrived. 

He left, locking the door behind him and let out a final tick of clearing his throat before he prepared for a whole day of suppressing them. At least until he found a bathroom or somewhere private. 

He made the commute in silence. Not too many people were out this early, those who were were the same as him. Going to work. Most people worked later in the morning, Seokjin was part of the early commute. 

He sighed softly and closed his eyes and braced himself for the day ahead of him. 

BigHit was big. 

It was a tall building with the logo out front in big letters with lights around them. A few people who walked by the building would stop to take pictures of it, others would stop to take pictures of him. 

Seokjin ignored them in favour of swiping his keycard and opening the door. He heads been photographed by people before, people who were in awe of his beauty. It flattered Seokjin to no end, but he didn't let it get to his head. He wasn't an idol, he was just a normal guy who was working a normal job. 

Inside of BigHit was busy. Famous Idols that Seokjin recognized walked through the floor, talking to one another. Businessmen and women walked around doing their work, and Seokjin quickly joined them. No one batted an eye at him, people already knew who he was from his key card and his ability to even get through the front door. 

They were all packed into an elevator as Seokjin went over his training in his head. He just had to log into his computer at his new desk and start to punch in numbers. The constant movement of clicking and typing would be nice for his tics. One of them was a typing motion that was fulfilled by typing. 

"Hey," a voice next to him said. Seokjin looked over, seeing a tall man. His face was slightly narrow, making him look like he was glaring, but Seokjin suspected that was just how his face looked. 

"Are you new?" The man asked. His voice was surprisingly high for his voice, but it was gentle and not angry at all. 

"Yes," Seokjin replied, "this is my first day."

The man smiled, "oh, you're Seokjin?" He asked. Seokjin nodded, and the man's smile grew, "great! I'm Jung Taekwoon, but you can call me Leo. I'm your seat buddy, next to Ken, too," he nudged his shoulder up, tapping the man beside him. 

The man looked over, who must have been Ken. He had slightly sleepy looking eyes, and silver hair that made Seokjin mistake him for an idol at first. 

"It's good to meet you," Seokjin said softly, "I'm Kim Seokjin, 92 liner."

Ken grinned, "I'm Lee Jaehwan, but everyone just calls me Ken. I'm a 92 liner as well," he replied. Seokjin turned to Leo, who after a second read the room. 

"I'm a 90 liner," he said, "so I'm both of your hyungs," he said, smiling slightly. 

"It's good to meet you both, Leo-hyung, Kenie," he said, bowing slightly, or as much as he could bow with the other people surrounding him. 

Leo and Ken bowed back, and then the elevator doors opened and they were pushed out by the swarm of people. Leo and Ken led Seokjin through the department until the reached an open office space. People were already starting to take their places in their seats, and Leo and Ken were no different. 

Seokjin's cubicle, decorated with a big "WELCOME" sign was in between Ken's and Leo's. 

"You can take that down, if you'd like," Leo said softly, peeking up over his cubicle, "no one would think you're weird if you wanted it down."

Seokjin shook his head, smiling, "no, it's fine," he replied, "I like it."

Leo nodded and smiled, and then ducked back down to do work. Seokjin turned to his computer, cleared his throat as quietly as possible, and typed in his computer to start to do work. 

Two hours later, Seokjin was already exhausted. Keeping down tics hadn't gotten any easier as he got older, and just clenching his fingers and blinking three times in a row just wasn't quite enough for him. 

When he couldn't handle it anymore, he left the room and trudged to the bathroom. Along the way, he didn't notice another man walking towards him until their shoulders clicked together. Seokjin hissed between his teeth, eyes scrunching up in pain. 

When he turned to the man he had bumped into, a cold fear seeped into his body. He recognized this guy. Lee Sungho. Seokjin's old bully from college. Sungho seemed to recognize him as well, and his eyes glittered. 

"Oh hey, well if it isn't the s-s-s-tuttery b-b-bitch," he snarled, making fun of Seokjin. Seokjin slumped back, feeling like he was back in college again. The worst years of his entire life. 

"Leave me alone, Sungho," Seokjin said, his fingers flexing. 

Sungo snorted, "or what? You're gonna use your retarded superpowers on me?" He asked, waggling his fingers teasingly, his mouth morphing into a cruel grin. 

Seokjin opened his mouth to speak when he heard footsteps approaching. Sungho caught the person's eye before Seokjin did, grinning. 

"Hey, Joon!" He called, "that fuckin' retard bitch I was telling you about works here!" He cackled. His voice was loud in the office hallway, and no doubt everyone could hear Sungho. 

Seokjin's face burned red and without even looking at Joon, he pushed past Sungho and ran into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and shuffled into the corner into one of the stalls. He sniffled, tears welling up in his eyes and before he could help it, his tics came through. 

He twitched his head from side to side, coughing loudly and clearing his throat and tapping his fingers against his face until the pads made a padding sound against his noise. 

The door to the bathroom opened three sets of footsteps entered the bathroom. Seokjin covered his mouth to muffle his tics as the footsteps continued. There was a gentle knocking on the stall door. 

"Seokjin?" Leo's voice was hesitant and soft, "are you in there?"

Seokjin sniffled, "y...y...y...y...y...yeah," he stammered, tapping his fingers against his face again harder and harder until he was almost slapping himself. 

The stall door opened and Leo stepped in, reaching out and gently catching Seokjin's hand before he could slap himself again. 

"Hey," Leo said softly, "are you alright?" 

Seokjin sniffled, nodding a little, "y-yeah," he said, "I just. Sungho is here," he mumbled. 

"Sungho?" Leo repeated, "from accounting?"

Seokjin nodded again, "I know him from college," he croaked, "he used to bully me."

Leo was quiet for a second, "for what?" He asked.

"I have Tourettes," Seokjin admitted, "he used to bully me when we went to school together. I didn't know that he would be here."

Ken and the other man stepped into the stall as well, not crowding Seokjin but just hovering. Seokjin felt a tic coming on and suppressed it. It felt like trying to suppress a sneeze, but one that came from his brain. It was uncomfortable, and sometimes could even be painful.

"Joon, can you-" Leo started to say, wrapping an arm around Seokjin's shoulder and gently wiping the tears from his cheeks. 

Joon, who was a tall man, just a little taller than Seokjin, typed something into his phone and spoke to someone for a few moments before he turned to Seokjin and Leo. 

"Get back to work," he said softly, "I'll get back to you all later."

Leo nodded and led Seokjin out of the bathroom, Ken trailing after them. 

"Who was that?" Seokjin asked quietly as they stepped back into the office. People were back to work, although there was a weird blanket of a feeling over the entire office. 

"You don't know him?" Ken asked, arching an eyebrow, "that's Kim Namjoon. Our boss and the CEO."



Chapter Text

The rest of Seokjin's day was spent in nervous silence. He didn't talk too much to Leo and Ken and just focused on work. He ticced more often, his anxiety raised up. He had just met his boss, cried in front of him like a baby, and told on a co-worker like he was a grade school kid. 

Finally, 3:00 hit and Seokjin was able to leave. He packed up his bags and left the company before Leo or Ken could stop him. He made himself look normal as he left the building, feeling people looking at him again and taking pictures of him again. 

He ignored them and got on the train. His phone quietly buzzed from where it was at his side, and when he picked it up he was pleasantly surprised to find that it was from Jackson. 



Yoongi had a nap today. He's a little stressed out about something, you have any idea what it is?


No clue. 

Were any of his routines disrupted today?



Maybe it's from your new job? He wasn't able to concentrate too well when I got here and you left.



I'll talk to him. Thank you again, Jackson.


:) No problem!!

Yoongi is a cute little kid and he's good at what he does

BTW, I was gonna have one of my buddies come over next session. He plays piano pretty good, and he's got a kid close to Yoongi's age. 


I'll have to meet him, but that's fine with me! 



I'll see you tomorrow, Seokjin <3

Seokjin smiled at his phone before putting it away. Jackson was a sweet man, and Seokjin and Yoongi had been lucky that they didn't move too far away from where Jackson already lived, so Yoongi's routine wasn't further jostled. 

He got off his stop a block near his apartment, but just as he got off the train, he heard footsteps thundering after him. 

"Wait!" A man's voice shouted, making Seokjin pause and look back. There was a tallish man with slightly sleepy, puppy-looking eyes jogging after him. 

He huffed for breath as he approached Seokjin, his hands on his knees as he breathed hard for a few seconds. 

"Thank God I caught up to you," he panted, "I-I wanted to ask you something!"

Seokjin looked at him weirdly, but kept his face as schooled and professional as possible, "alright? What do you need?" He asked calmly. 

"Are you a model?" He asked quickly, his eyes wide, "I-I saw you coming out of BigHit, and I wanted to ask-"

"I'm not a model," Seokjin replied, "I just work there."

The man looked a little startled as he looked at Seokjin. "Are you sure?" He asked, "y-you have the face of a model, and I just assumed-"

Seokjin smiled kindly, hearing the man gasp as he smiled, "thank you, but I don't work in any sort of entertainment, now if you'll excuse me," he nodded to the apartment in front of him. 

The man seemed to panic for a second, "wait!" He almost squeaked, his hand circling around Seokjin's arm, "hear me out for a second, please." He practically got on his knees, holding onto Seokjin and looking up at him like he was a messiah or something. 

"Get up!" Seokjin hissed, his face going pink as people around them started to whisper, "please don't cause a scene," he begged.

The man's face went pink and he got up from where he was kneeling. "Could I come into your home?" He asked bluntly, "I want to discuss a possible opportunity for business."

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, his fingers twitching with a tic, "and just who are you? How do I know this isn't a scam?"

The man grinned brightly, "I'm Choi Seungcheol! CEO of Pledis Entertainment!"

Namjoon sat at his desk, his hands folded in front of him as he quietly stared into space in front of him. His thoughts were busy, full of nothing but Kim Seokjin. A new hire at his company who was made uncomfortable by a man who had been working for him for nearly a year. 

The man, who Namjoon didn't remember the name of, had been fired as soon as Seokjin followed his friends back to his work station. Namjoon had tried to make it clear to him, and anyone else, that harassment based on any sort of disabilities wasn't okay.  

Now, Namjoon couldn't stop thinking. Had he gone too far? He didn't want to make Seokjin uncomfortable, but when he looked at Seokjin and saw his tears and his tics and everything that made Seokjin so beautiful to him. 

He had fallen in love at first sight. Seokjin was a wonder to him, so very beautiful and kind. Namjoon wondered if he was as soft as he looked. He looked up Seokjin's file as soon as he was alone, just having to know more about him. 

Seokjin was two years older than him, recently moved from out of the city into the heart of Seoul to work at BigHit. He had a son younger than him, and from simple digging around, Namjoon found out that Seokjin had no spouse. 

The thought that Seokjin might not even be gay hit him like a truck and made his fingers pause their clenching. He blinked, taking in a breath and sitting back in his seat. There were many people in South Korea who were gay, but most of them weren't accepted by the general public. 

They couldn't marry, could date but would get horribly ridiculed for it, bullied by peers or by adults. Namjoon remembered what it was like when he was younger when he had whispered into the darkness of his room to his pet dog, Monie, about his sexual preferences and then cried for an hour. 

Just telling it to someone who wouldn't hate him built him up. Two years later, he told some friends in a passing conversation. One of those friends was still near him to this day. Jackson Wang, an exchange student from China who was bright as he would loud. 

Jackson was a special educator, who taught homeschool to kids with disabilities, or kids who couldn't go to school for reasons not disclosed. He sometimes did tracks at BigHit but never signed on. Namjoon didn't make him sign on, and any music he did was his, signed under his name so he could take any of it back if he wanted to. 

Seokjin's son, Kim Yoongi, had been pulled out of school multiple times until Seokjin had no choice to keep him at home and have a teacher come to their house to teach the young boy. There was no information on just why Yoongi didn't go to a public school, but Namjoon could guess. 

He was neurodivergent and was unable to follow any of the instructions at school or participate like students were supposed to, or he was intellectually challenged and the school simply didn't know what to do with him. 

Taehyung was like that. He was stupid or dumb, he was incredibly smart. He lived with Autism in his daily life and went to and from Namjoon's penthouse apartment close to his house to BigHit where he would spend some of his days learning with Jackson. 

Perhaps Namjoon could offer to have Yoongi learn at the workplace with Taehyung? Would that be too invasive? 

He was so lost in thought, he didn't realize someone had entered his office. His secretary, Jung Eubom, stood before him. Eubom was a beautiful woman, slim and tall with long glossy hair and doe-like eyes. She was an okay secretary, but Namjoon did notice the lingering gaze on him when he left his office, or during meetings when she was meant to be taking notes or jotting things down. 

She now stood in his office, her button-down shirt unbuttoned three buttons down so her cleavage was showing. Her hair today was curled, and her makeup even more vibrant than it usually was. She obviously had gone all out before she came to school. 

"Do you need something, Eubom-sii?" Namjoon asked, pushing away the file on Seokjin to hide it underneath a few of his notes. Eubom bit her lip, rubbing her thighs together in a display that was meant to be coy, but she really just looked like she had to pee. 

"I-I wanted to talk to you for a bit, Namjoon-ah," she said, looking up at him through fluttering eyelashes. She smiled at him, her lips were a ruby red but Namjoon didn't really care. 

"Alright," Namjoon said, making himself smile as he folded his hands in front of him calmly, "what is it?"

"Do you have a wife, Namjoon-ah?" She bluntly blurted. 

Namjoon's eyebrow quirked, betraying the irritation that was stirring inside of him. His name on her lips once had been nice, but now it just seemed sour. 

"I don't know why that's any of your business, Eubom-sii," Namjoon said, keeping his voice firm. He narrowed his eyes a little, but that seemed to egg on Eubom. 

"So there is another woman," she continued, walking forward and circling around the desk. Her fingers, with fake nails that were a hideous shade of fluorescent pink, scratched against his clothes as she spun the chair around. 

"Again, that should not be any of your-" Namjoon started, but Eubom pressed a finger on his mouth to silence him. 

"Shh," she whispered, smirking in a way that she must have thought was seductive, "you don't need to think about her anymore, Namjoon-ah," she said, "we can keep this a secret."

Her fingers started to dance down his chest, reaching for his pants. Namjoon caught her hands, squeezing them. She froze, her eyes going wide and her face erupting with a flush.

"Jung Eubom," Namjoon said, his voice deep with authority, "you are exhibiting extremely inappropriate behaviour towards me-"

"I want to be with you!" Eubom whined, trying to wrench her hands-free from his hold, "you can't love your wife! I've never seen her!"

Namjoon stood up, releasing Eubom's hands and stepping away from her. A weird look in her eyes made the hair on the back of his neck raise. 

"She doesn't even take care of your kid!" She hissed through her teeth, "Tae-ah loves me! And he doesn't talk about his 'Eomma' at all-"

"Do not bring Taehyung-ah into this conversation, Eubom-sii," Namjoon growled, but Eubom ignored him. 

"A wife should stay at home and be subservient to her husband!" Eubom cried, stomping her foot on the ground, "why can't you let me be that for you?! I'm already your secretary! In the movies-"

"Did you think it would work out that way," Namjoon's question was cold as ice and cut off anything Eubom was about to say. 


"Did you think this would be like porn?" He asked coolly, "that I would see you and fuck you over my desk the second you waved your ass in my face?" 

Eubom's face went red, "I-"

"The reason why Taehyung-ah doesn't speak about his mother is that he doesn't have one," he hissed, "I am not married, I never have been."

Eubom's face was turning white, a look of horror and embarrassment on her face. "Namjoon-" she tried to speak. 

"You have been my secretary for two years, seven months, and one week," Namjoon growled, "through that time, I have never seen you as anything but that."

There was a look of heartbreak on Eubom's face, but Namjoon ignored it. All of the irritation that he felt towards this woman, and the thought that he would cheat on a spouse who didn't exist sickened Namjoon to the core. 

"This is not the movies, Eubom-sii," he said, "please try to learn that life isn't a Kdrama. You're not going to meet your Oppa at a job, and that Oppa will not be me."

Eubom's face went back to red, "why can't you let me be your wife?!" Her voice rose to a screech, no doubt getting the attention of anyone who was working outside, "I care about you, Namjoon-ah!" She howled, "I even care about your retard of a kid-"

"DO NOT," Namjoon boomed, interrupting him, "CALL TAEHYUNG-AH THAT."

Eubom froze, seeming to realize what she had said, "Namjoon-ah, I didn't-"

"Namjoon-sii," Namjoon interrupted her, glowering at her, "now get out of my office. You're fired."

Eubom's face went red again, and she gave a frustrated scream. She grabbed a penknife from Namjoon's desk and raised it above her head, bringing it down. 

Namjoon raised his arms to protect his face, getting slashed across the arms by the knife. He didn't move, waiting until she had tired herself out. Her hands were covered in blood, and his arm was dripping with the red liquid.

There was a horrified scream from the doorway, where Jaebeom, Jackson's boyfriend, was standing in the doorway. Eubom whirled around, the penknife in her hand and realized what she had done. 

"H-he tried to rape me!" She screeched feebly. Jaebeom looked to Namjoon who shook his head calmly, the pain starting to get to him. 

"Call the police," he ordered. 

Jaebeom left in a rush, and Eubom, still trembling with rage, turned back to Namjoon. 

"I'm going to ruin everything you love!" She howled, just as security rushed in, and seeing the mess in front of them, quickly apprehended her. 

"I'm going to find who you love, and I'm going to kill them!" She screeched, so loud that it tapered off into a hoarse scream as she was dragged out of his office. 

Namjoon sighed softly, his hands shaking, and fumbled with his hands to call the police. 

"Hello? Yes, my secretary has just stabbed my arms, can you please send a paramedics team to BigHit entertainment? Yes, thank you."

Namjoon hung up just as the pain hit him. He shakily sat down, careful to not get blood on anything else, and grabbed a roll of gauze from his drawer that he kept just in face Taehyung got hurt or needed something to cough into. 

He clumsily pulled off his suit coat and his shirt, shaking from pain, and wrapped his arms up before he sat on the floor and tried not to faint as he waited for the paramedics to arrive. 

Woah... Shock was one hell of a drug. 

Chapter Text

 Seungcheol looked around Seokjin's apartment curiously, eyes wide as he poked around. Against his better thought, Seokjin had allowed the strange man into his home. Of course, after he had looked up his name and verified that yes, Choi Seungcheol was a real person and not an axe murderer who was trying to kill him. 

Yoongi had run up to Seokjin and hugged his legs as tight as he could, nuzzling his knees and ignoring Seungcheol as the man continued to look around Seokjin's kitchen. 

"Seungcheol-sii," Seokjin said calmly, "could I ask you what you wish to speak about? I need to make Yoongi some dinner, and-"

Seungcheol perked up, "of course!" He said, "sorry, I was just curious," he stood up straight and dug out his wallet and took out a square of paper and unfolded it. 

"I wanted to scout you as a model for my company," he said eagerly, "since you don't work as one for BigHit, I assumed that you were free."

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, his jaw clicking a little with a tic. "I'm sorry, but I'm not," he replied, "I work for BigHit-and I don't plan on doing anything else."

 Seungcheol looked a little put-off, his eyes kind of sad. "are you sure?" He asked, "we would love to have you, at least for an audition. And see if you enjoy it?" 

Seokjin forced himself to smile, even though all he wanted was to push Seungcheol out the door and get on with his day. He could feel Yoongi's presence behind him, holding back a whine as he squeezed his legs. 

"You know what, fine," Seokjin said, holding back a sigh, "I'll come as soon as I can."

Seungcheol clapped his hands, his eyes lit with delight. "That's great!" He rifled through his pockets for a moment before pulling out a slightly crumpled business card and handed it out to Seokjin. 

Seokjin took it and looked it over, feeling a tic coming up. He blinked his eyes a few times until they watered a little, then smiled at Seungcheol. 

He pushed away his thoughts as Seungcheol chattered about a few other things before he left, bowing to Seokjin and thanking him again and again. When he was finally gone, Seokjin let go. 

He clicked his fingers, hissed out-breaths through his teeth and cracked his neck until it hurt. As the fit of tics passed, he turned to Yoongi who was still snuggled up against him.

"Mac and cheese?" Yoongi asked quietly. He looked tired, his eyes a little shiny with tears. Seokjin sighed and nodded, softly petting his hair, "I can do that, baby," he said, "go get into some comfy clothes and let daddy get dressed too."

Yoongi nodded once, then paused, and nodded five more times until he was satisfied then ran off to his room, stopping by the fridge to arrange the magnets in order of shape three times before he finally went into his room. 

Seokjin sighed, his entire body felt stiff and rigid. Like it wasn't used to moving at all. The effect of not being able to tic for a period of time and being in an uncomfortable situation made his stomach twist and clench. 

Shifting to the kitchen he got out the macaroni mix and started a pot on the stove before sitting back. His head was pounding from his day of work, and he couldn't wait to just go to bed. 

"Dad?" Yoongi's voice was soft as he entered the kitchen, "are you okay?"

Seokjin smiled and nodded a bit, "I'm fine, sweetie," he replied, "just really tired. Did you have a good time with Jackson?"

Yoongi perked up, his face lighting up. "I did!" He replied, "we went over things that I learned in therapy to help with the bad feelings!"

Seokjin cooed, squeezing Yoongi's cheeks gently, then keeping his hands there as Yoongi made his fingers pinch his cheeks three more times before he was allowed his hands back. Him working with Jackson to understand that things were okay, and to adapt to different situations had made all the difference in their lives. It had taken time, but now Yoongi was more okay with touching new clothing, without worrying about there being dust or dirt on them or any other kind of substance, although he still made Seokjin wash it three times before he would even think about putting anything on. 

"That's wonderful, baby," he said, standing back up, then bending back over when Yoongi reached up to him. He curled his son into his arms, kissing the top of his head as he slowly stirred the pot of noodles, letting the rhythmic motion soothe him as he listened to Yoongi talk about his day. 

"Would you like to talk about your father this time?"

Namjoon watched as Taehyung's hands stilled from where they were playing with the Barbie dolls. They were at therapy, with Namjoon perched on the couch and rubbing occasionally at the healing scratches on his arms. He watched Taehyung's face carefully. He knew which father the therapist was talking about. 

Taehyung's biological father. Not Namjoon. 

Taehyung withdrew his hands to his body, his face twisting a bit. He reached out to the table where the therapist had made a list of feelings, ranging from "😁Happy!"  to " 😡Angry". Taehyung fingers ran across the smooth plastic covered paper before stopping at one Namjoon had seen him pick a few times before. "😰Anxious". 

"You're anxious about him?" The therapist probed gently. She was an older woman, looking at Taehyung with a patient expression on her face, "did he make you feel bad?" She asked in a soft tone. 

Taehyung nodded, moving his finger to Angry. 

"He made you angry?" The therapist asked kindly. Taehyung grunted and shook his head, "he," he huffed out, clenching his fists and starting to kick his legs out behind him in a frantic self-soothing motion. Namjoon reached down and with the most gentle movement, he could muster picked up Taehyung by his sides and held him in his lap. Taehyung grabbed his hands and linked them together in front of his stomach with his own little arms hanging over like a seatbelt, and then nodded for Namjoon to start squeezing. 

A pressure stim. Something good for the both of them. Namjoon needed to squeeze for his anxiety, and Taehyung needed to be squished. 

"He was angry at you," the therapist stated, "do you know why he was angry at you?"

Taehyung craned his head from side to side, clearing his throat and scrunching his face up again, "he," he mumbled, "narcissist."

Namjoon held back a flinch at the word. He knew Taehyung's father, had met the man a few times before he was cleared to adopt Taehyung. The man had been nice at first, but as they talked all he wanted to talk about was himself, and whenever Namjoon said something he didn't like he blew up. 

To blow up like that at a child who didn't quite understand how to read emotions off of people, or how to dictate what passive-aggressiveness even was, was unforgivable. It left Taehyung with a lot of scars that he was still recovering for. He was agreeable, did whatever people wanted him to do, but it wasn't out of his free will. It was out of fear of being yelled at. 

The therapist nodded, "he is," she agreed, then looked to Namjoon when she saw that Taehyung wasn't going to listen to him anymore. "Has he tried reaching out at all?"

"A few times," Namjoon replied, "he and Jieun have tried to gain rights to him again. The court ruled in my favour after he threatened to," he covered Taehyung's ears, "kill Taehyung and me in our sleep."

The therapist nodded, keeping a professional look on her face. Namjoon moved his hands back to down to Taehyung's belly and squeezed again. "I've filed for a restraining order against them, and hopefully it'll get finalized by the end of the month."

The therapist nodded again, scribbling something down on her piece of paper, "has Taehyung asked about them at all? I recall a few weeks ago he had a visit with Jieun."

Namjoon pursed his lips, "he hasn't asked about her since then. We didn't stay the whole time, she had to leave to meet with her...Fix."

"Fix?" The therapist repeated, "has she relapsed at all?" 

Namjoon nodded, "she ODed about a week before the meeting, and hasn't gone to any meetings since then. The court decided that she isn't allowed to see Taehyung until she's passed six months of rehab."

The therapist hummed, "I saw on the news that you were attacked at work," she said, "by your secretary?"

Namjoon nodded, "she attacked me in a fit of jealousy. She's been fired and I'll be meeting her in court for a restraining order, and I think she'll be imprisoned for assault."

"Alright,"  the therapist glanced at the clock, "it looks like we're just about of time, what time next do you want to meet?"

"A month?" Namjoon said, picking Taehyung up. Taehyung curled into his chest, stuffing his fingers into his mouth and humming softly, "I'm going to be busy with work and Taehyung's school tutors starting again."

The therapist smiled, "that sounds nice," she said, "bye-bye, Taehyungie," she cooed, waving to him. Taehyung giggled softly and flapped his hand back in greeting. 

Namjoon quickly left after writing her a check, and then they were out of there. Walking out of the therapist office, he was met with his personal limo. His driver, Hoseok, rolled down the window and grinned up at them. 

"Hey, boss! Hey, little man!" He reached out his hand in a fist, which Taehyung smacked with his own then went back to staring off into space, mumbling nonsense to himself. 

"Hey, Hobi," Namjoon sighed, opening the door and setting Taehyung inside. Taehyung was just old enough that he was in a normal seat, humming softly and rocking back and forth slowly. Namjoon buckled him in and kissed Taehyung's forehead. 

Namjoon got close to where the window separating them from Hoseok and buckled himself in, "how are things at the building?"

"It's fine," Hoseok replied, "Eubom-sii is in custody right now, and the press is wanting your side of the story. Apparently, she's spreading some lie that you assaulted her and she attacked you in self-defence, although-" Hoseok tapped a button on the ceiling to bring down a screen in the middle of the car facing Namjoon, "we got her assault on camera."

Namjoon hummed, watching the scene play out. He had seen all the signs with Eubom, her lingering looks, standing by his door psyching herself up, and familiarizing herself with Taehyung and even going so far as to have Taehyung call her 'Noona' once. 

The thought that she had been in the company, nearby him for so long made Namjoon feel ill. He folded the screen up and rubbed his eyes slowly, "I need to find a new secretary. Can we do a screening of the people in our company?"

"Sure thing," Hoseok replied, "oh, Jackson sent me a text about meeting a friend of his. He's got a kid about your age. Do you think you're up to it?"

Namjoon hummed, scrunching his eyebrows together, "it's Tuesday, right?" He asked. 

Hoseok nodded in agreement, "Jackson wants you guys to meet on Thursday. That okay?" He looked in the rear-view mirror to Namjoon. 

Namjoon looked at Taehyung who was still staring out the window, "what do you think, sweetie? Do you wanna see Jackson again?"

Taehyung snapped his head to look at Namjoon, his eyes bright, "Jackson!" He squeaked, bouncing in his seat and starting to flap his hands while squealing and giggling. 

Namjoon smiled, ruffling Taehyung's hair, "I guess that's a yes."